Friday, August 31, 2007


Sometimes the web throws up stuff that is absolutely unbelievable.

A couple of days ago I was trolling about, and, like we all do once in a while, I googled my own name. Now until I started doing the Musica Surfica thing, nothing ever came up.

Talk about a low profile.

This time there where a few, and as I looked down the list, there was an entry that, amidst a sea of french text, was my name and my sister's.

I nearly fell off my chair as this could only be one person in the whole world, and one who I hadn't seen or heard from in over 25 years.

Way back when, I met Muriel when I was doing the surfing through south west Europe thing, and at the time I was in Peniche, Portugal, getting set for some time on the island of Baleal, just north of there. Back then you could rent little cottages for bugger all, and when we arrived on the island my first memory was of a lovely French girl throwing the biggest wobbler you've ever seen,.

Who's that?

That's Muriel. She's cool, but watch her temper.

Muriel was travelling with her boyfriend Steve, another Australian, and another surfer.

That put paid to any bad ideas I had, but over the next month or so, we became great friends, and enjoyed many, many laughs. Come the time we all parted ways as our journeys went on, addresses were exchanged, and off we went.

On the way back through France I'd intended to catch up with her, but as we'd taken so long on the return journey from Morocco, we zipped through, and I missed on seeing her, much to my regret.

We kept in touch for awhile, and indeed my sister Kath made contact when she visited France shortly after and they too became great friends.

Life went on, addresses where lost, I got married, all that stuff, and it seemed that a little bit of my life, and a bit that I always treasured, was gone.

A tiny death.

I always wondered what happened to her, how she was doing, like you do. So to discover this entry so many years later was beyond incredible.

Now I have back someone I thought was lost forever. Thankfully my Sue doesn't mind. Life's too short, she says.

Here's to you dear Muriel. Alive and well.

(She's already calling herself "a bad French auntie" in an effort to get Tom to wear a helmet... though I doubt whether even someone as scary as an angry Muriel will make any difference.)


Gaz said...

Le petite mort, or "little death"........ a French phrase regarding the female orgasm and it's physical affect. Maybe a bit quaint but one I have remembered since reading it years ago. Thanks for reminding me Mick.

Mick said...

Strangely Gaz, the phrase was one I as unaware of. Not surprising considering the quality of my french, as Muriel would attest. I meant it in the literal sense, as it applies to anyone lost to time, and distance.

Gum said...

Ah! Ah! Ah!
The bad aunty had to read twice the translation of "to throw a wobbler". Don't remind at all what about this might have been...Just remember I was trying hard to compose an honorable Xmas tree handling with a strange king of bare bush, a plastic bin, toilette paper, onions and noodles by that time! I swear it can drive everybody mad... me over all!:-D

Mick, don't worry at all about this "tiny death", as very few of us think of the sense "naughty-Gaz" means, reading it!... Gaz, put your helmet on and go to the corner!!!

A deep touched french smiling witch

reverb said...

...great wife that you ve got too...