For lunch we went down to the main road in Picton where we had been told there was a noodle bar that made surprisingly good noodles. I had a tom yum with noodles, which was decent, though much too sweet. The Gentleman Friend had a pad thai which was surprisingly good though also too sweet. Our food came in rooster bowls which made me wonder if the owners were Malaysians.
On returning the door handle came off in our hands. The metal itself had broken, a testament to the set dressing approach to interiors that is typical of short-term rentals.
In the evening, while the GF had a work call I went down to the wharf where a boat was to arrive bringing back some of the things we’d forgotten in the boat house – the GF’s wash bag, my hat, our sunblock (though not the book I was reading, which I forgot to ask for). I lingered by the water for a few minutes, long enough to hear a conversation between two teenaged backpackers, one of whom was clearly hoping that his shared nationality with the stroopwaffel would win him some points with the other.
After dinner we gave up on trying to play Netflix on the very large television and instead watched Grandma on the ipad. We’d watched the first ten minutes earlier, and I must say I didn’t find the rest of it nearly as engaging as that beginning. Very clear beats, predictable characters and story arc, etc. A scene with Grandma’s male friend made me very uncomfortable, it was quite an ugly one. And another character, at the point she was supposed to be most unsynpathetic, just reminded me of women in my extended family, so I immediately found myself agreeing with every word she said. It was like the inevitable scene in 1990s thrillers where the rogue nuclear scientist, dangling over a cliff and about to be knocked down by the hero, said he was a Pakistani and an entire nation’s sympathies veered instantly.