JAN
15
About
a kilometre and a half away is an Indian restaurant called Kholi’s. If you are
ever out this way I would recommend it. Good service, no glitz, well presented
food. Opposite is the Soldier’s Club which we couldn’t resist. It is everything
that is tacky, but also in a contrasting way, fabulous as well.
A typical NSW
club that people from Victoria travelled to in droves years ago before poker
machines were introduced everywhere. You show your driver’s licence at the reception.
The kids go off to a child minding room where they can play with toys and other
kids, supervised. What a racket for some parents! Then you go upstairs to be
hit by the razzle dazzle of millions of colourful and noisy gambling machines,
tables everywhere filled with people in smart sandals and shorts, eating roasts
and steaks and salads, and a long window opening up to the incredible vista of
the sparkling bay across the road. J and I put a dollar coin into a machine for
the hell of it and immediately five one dollar coins bounced back at us. So
there you go, the ultimate paradox. Huge NSW clubs that are disgusting and compelling
at the same time.
Outcome: stomach full of Indian food, pockets jingling
and back killing me.
No comments:
Post a Comment