A typical picinc day

Youngest and self decided we would catch a couple of trains and have a bit of a picnic lunch at Belair National Park.

It went something like this:

Text daughter (I was in bed in my room and she was in bed in her room), "I Feel like going to Belair on train, picnic, interested?". Ok, I admit my laziness is a bit transparent but daughter isn't exactly a morning person.

Set daughter up with a few little jobs (make the salad bread rolls etc). I was just going to mosey on down to my Sunday morning coffee joint and catch up with a coffee friend (a must Sunday happening). Assured Daughter I would be back in thirty min. Ninety min later (you just can't walk away from great fellowship). Ok, I admit I do tend to talk a lot!

Sitting at the station waiting for train that was, like clockwork, running late. N.B We only had a three min time frame once we arrived at the city to catch the connecting train to Belair. Anyhow, we were sitting and waiting when a group of loud, obnoxious, cocky young hoods came skate-boarding and bike- riding right up to us and asked me (ever so politely) if I had a dollar to cover their leader's train fare home. Apparently his dollar must have fallen out of his ever so well-fitting jeans while he was terrorizing the pedestrians with his 'jumps'. Ok, I admit I could have shown some charity. I could have but I was a little put off by his language and lack of general consideration to safety and welfare of others.

Off the nice young lads went, continuing to 'politely' beg for the money, from other would be train travelers. Clearly, the boys were not having much luck. Eventually, one frightened looking lady offered them fifty cents (that was all the change she had). I was feeling a little guilty so I got some change out of my purse. I was about to call the boys over when I heard them show their gratitude by blatantly laughing out racial comments to the lady who had given them some money (she was Asian). I was so tempted to 'deal' with these boys and certainly would have if they had not moved on to some fellow hoods (it was looking more like a gang by the minute). I kept my eye on them but was also mindful of antagonizing them into more aggressive behavior.

They eventually got enough money and then chanted out that we were all 'suckers!'. Youngest and I were hoping to board a different carriage than pleasant youth. They entered the first carriage and then walked (with bikes) through the entire train. I ignored them. Ok, I admit I may have given them the odd, 'don't mess with me!' stare.

As train was approaching station youngest and I decided to go to the doors and be ready to jump off efficiently if, by some miracle, the connecting train to Belair was still at station. Several of the young lads were also preparing to be the first off the train. As they waited they pushed their bikes backwards and forwards disregarding the feet of fellow passengers. They were holding centre court as they chatted up some very young girls. The young girls were 'impressed' and were 'flirting' back. The language going back and forward was colorful. What saddened me was one of the girls mother was standing close by and was smiling at the interaction between the youths. Ok, I admit my stares got increasingly more judgmental.

With an hour to wait before the next train to Belair (it had left on time) we decided to walk briskly into city centre and look for a windcheater for youngest. As we passed several clothes stores I wondered where we would find this windcheater. "How about in here?" I inquired in between my asthmatic-like wheezing (we were really pacing it up that hill). "No, I don't shop at that store!", replied my youngest in an 'as if' tone. The store we eventually walked into was a surfing shop. I could feel the generation gap syndrome rearing itself into action. I tried to keep the smile on my dial. I tried to not look like a geriatric misfit. I was doing reasonably alright until the lyrics of some song reached my psyche. Was I hearing right? Had somebody actually written, recorded and released a song with the word embryo in it? I looked around and noticed that a lot of young people were bopping along to the music without the slightest notion that they were being insulted with a song about a guy who was not going to hang out with this girl cause she had tricked him into carrying an embryo. Get me out of this store. 'Daughter, get out of that change room ASAP!". Ok, I admit to being firmly lodged in some sort of gap (thankfully daughter was not impressed with song choices either).

Sitting on train (we had secured the front seat which allowed you a nice view of the scenery leading up to Belair) I started to relax again. Just as the train was pulling out of station a man with a small boy in tow started pushing and jostling his way into our space. This dad literally plonked his son in front of us (practically on our laps) and then proceeded to park his kids bike and backpack alongside him (dad informed us that son would not take up too much space). "No worries!", was my response. One minute later dad had wriggled his way next to son (safety reasons apparently) and we all proceeded to enjoy the delights of the 'toot, toot' (every 'toot' was followed by an informative lesson on the sounds trains make).

After hearing the tale of the father and son's last visit to Belair - apparently the son had done a 'you know what!' in his nappy and while the nappy change was in session (on the platform) the train pulled out leaving father and son stranded at an isolated station for 1 hour - I was informed that son had apparently done another 'you know what!' and dad was fairly confident that it was highly likely they would find themselves stranded once more. What to do? I have to admit it almost sounded like dad was waiting for me to volunteer to change nappy(?). Before I got the look from daughter which said (without words), "why are you encouraging them ?" I had given dad directions to the lake as something to do if by some chance they did find themselves abandoned at the station. As the train was pulling into the station, and remembering the look daughter had given me I suggesting that perhaps (upon further consideration) that walking all the way to the lake might be a bit much for the little lad(talk about back pedaling!). I wished them well as daughter and self walked off at a brisk pace. Ok, I admit the cute factor was wearing off a little.

Youngest and I found a nice little spot at the lake and enjoyed our salad rolls. We were now reclining on a (smooth-ish) rock - having a bit of a read. The early afternoon sun was stroking our skin with a warm breeze. We were both relaxed. Suddenly, from the not too far distance, I heard a familiar voice. Correct! Father and son had made it all the way down to the lake in only forty minutes. Ok, I admit it was beginning to feel like a 'stalking' situation.

Father's Son had found some pebbles and were having a great time throwing them in the water. It was a lovely little picture. It was a lovely little picture until the boy discovered the ducks and started hurtling the stones towards them. "Don't throw the stones at the ducks", said the father(repeatedly). The stones landed pretty close to those damn ducks. I could feel my perfect parenting skills rearing their ugly interfering heads. Ok, I admit a major diversion was needed.

After father had a little pathetic whinge (I'm not being mean - he really was sounded like a tosser) about how long it took him to get to the lake, and, how he had no idea how he was going to persuade child to get back to the station; I lost all self control and went into interfering action. I suggested dad walk back about 70 metres and retrieve bike and meantime I would watch child.

As soon as he was gone I gave child a quick (mother lesson) on rock throwing and kindness to ducks and how exciting it was going to be to walk all the way around the lake back to the train that goes 'toot toot'. Phew!

Dad returns with bike, I fill him in with the little details about how to move son on, "Just pick little land marks up ahead and make it an adventure", I suggested. Before you know it they were back on the move. " You can do it!", I chanted. Ok,I admit (maybe) that was a little manipulative?

Daughter and I waited twenty minutes and then started walking back to station. Half way back along the track there was dad and cute kid having a rest. "You'll be right!", I pleaded. "Plenty of time, yet." said I. Ok, I admit I was beginning to think I might have to find a way to delay the trains departure.

Daughter and I were back at station with twenty minutes to spare. So, we had a little lay down on the bench and soaked up a little more sun. Fifteen minutes to go before 'd' time! Ten minutes to go! And then I heard it. I heard the familiar voice proudly whisper, "Go tell the lady we made it!" Ok, I admit we let them have the front window all to themselves on the way back. "Happy 'toot- toot' journey home guys."

I could tell you about the lady we met on the train going back to city - I reckon she would be in the running for the oldest backpacker around - but that might have to be another blog story. Ok, I admit I really do ramble on and on and on and on.......... Never a dull moment.