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I'm looking forward to this year's Writer's Festival. I'm not making any appearances so I'm going to be a punter and amble around for three days to go to as many sessions as I can. I'm also looking forward to a few social occasions with my mates Robert Dessaix and Richard Flannagan. I know a lot of the visiting writers and presenters as our paths cross briefly at media and publishing events but there's never a lot of time to stop and yarn unless its at a festival. And Byron is renowned as being one of the best festivals for its laid back atmosphere and setting. Let's hope the weather co-operates.
Boris is down in the Manning holidaying with his son and grandkids. They went fishing in a creek and hooked a massive fish that took lines and bit through lead traces. They knew it was not a bull shark. So his son Anthony went back at night determined to land the thing. He came back dripping wet hours later. He'd been pulled into the water by the fish and towed a hundred metres downstream until it dived into the roots along the bank. Anthony's hands were cut so he scrambled onto the bank and tied the line around his boot. He thought he must have an old man flathead that had been living for years in the reaches of the quiet creek. After they both rested, the fish made another rush for freedom and entangled the line in the tree roots and sped away. For the next two nights they set lines that were snapped until the Final Showdown. While they didn't land it, they saw what it was - a five and a half foot conga eel as thick as a man's thigh! Gave the boys a bit of excitement for a few days.
After keeping my head down into my book for so many months, Boris and I are planning to travel. The USA to see my kids, and later in October - Italy. I haven't been there since I headed to London to make my name in journalism and got side-tracked in Rome and worked for Cinecitta Studios....among other adventures.
Cheers.
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