Welcome to Australia Day 2008. The sun is out, the sea is sparkling, the barbecues are firing (as are the chunks of glorified carbon Rock is "flame-grilling"), the cricket is meandering towards a lazy draw, and John Howard is making his familiar if-you-can't-bowl-a-googly-get-out... hang on, scratch that last one. What hasn't changed is this year's destination - once again it's off to the pristine white sands of Jervis Bay, that slice of beachside paradise 2.5 hrs south of Sydney.
But with digs like this it's a bit hard to summon up the motivation to head out into the blazing Aussie day sun. Even if the surf is only right down the road.
Yeah I know the flowers are a darn sight nicer than looking at Rock in speedos, but can we get get going already? By the time Mei has finished applying her spf five zillion moisturizer/sunblock combo global warming will have melted the polar icecaps and the beach will be submerged.
Here's a shot to separate the true j00ster fan from the pretender. If this doesn't send you racing for the close button on your browser than... you have very little in the way of a life. Here Rock gives the famous sand a run for its money in the Whitest in the World stakes. On the plus side, the paparazzi outbid this website for the speedo pics. See the Beach Body Shockers edition of Women's Weekly if you're interested (as a bonus, once you've thumbed through the titillating centrefold, you can read all about how a 1000 year old intergalactic scientologist conspiracy ended Tom & Nicole's wedded bliss).
More eye candy, albeit not in the same league as the previous pic. I've said it before and I'll say it again. If you're not on the beach today you're un-Australian.
But wait, there's more. Yep, that's what Rock said as he spotted a pack of Mint Slices in the bottom of the beach bag, shortly after dispatching a pack of Jelly Babies with the same disdain that VVS Laxman reserves for the Australian bowling attack. By the end of the fifth mint slice, the Japanese harpooners have a new target.
As they say: "Where the bloody hell are you?". Marketing 101 - put a bikini clad babe and a magnificent beach in the same shot, and wait for the tourists to come flocking. Mei does her best to undo the bad publicity of previous pics.
Mei does her best pelican impression.
"we've golden soil and wealth for toil... our home is girt by sea". Scenes like this almost make you want to stand up and don the baggy green. Until a smug faced Ponting strides out for another annoyingly perfect century. Now that man deserves a classic Filler (in-joke for Channel 9 viewers this season).
Appropriately for this South o' the border excursion, it's Mexican tonight.
The hardest thing about taking this picture was ensuring there was still some food remaining on Mei's plate by the time the light from the flash got there...
Day 2 dawns with a bushwalk down to Hyam's Beach on another glorious summer's day.
Hang on, I think you've got the wrong beach here. Take your agro and your big club down to Cronulla, they'll welcome you with open arms down there.
Another postcard from Jervis. White sands and turquoise water. And not a shark in sight... yet.
Spoken prematurely - this species of lethal tiger shark is known to disguise a deadly bite behind an enormous set of Paris Hilton sunnies.
Rock scans the horizons for bikin... dolphins. Yes, that's it, I'm sure the brochure said there were dolphins out here. Gotta keep a close eye on the beaches in case we miss them.
Words aren't necessary. Especially Rock's words.
Mei standing on a rock. She has lots of practice.
Spot The Rock among mere rocks. Confronted with a scene of stunning beauty, Rock is deep in thought contemplating man's insignificance next to... a perfect bean burrito. You know, that perfect contrast between the crispy golden edges of a tortilla and the molten core of dripping cheese and beans. Err yes, quite.
If this isn't a genuine billabong I dunno what is...
...it even comes complete with a waltzing matilda.
Rock does his best to get sand in the lens with some low angle camera work. And no, this wasn't Rock using the cover of the dunes to approach the nudie beach. Shame on you for even thinking it.
Bring out the chopsticks! Mei finds evidence that the White Sands Walk is merely a throwback from a more innocent age, and not the code name for immigration policy in the Howard era. Or local surfie policy down at Maroubra.
Finally a Mei-sized cottage. These old whaler cottages are famous for their 5 foot 1 inch doors...
...and Mei is famous as one of the few humans who doesn't have to duck on entrance.
Another beach, another babe. Now that's worthy of an Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi.
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