Colin, on the other hand, was a real salt of the earth kind of guy. With his dilapidated straw hat, sun-charred leather skin, cut-off denim shorts and effortless fluency (and versatility) with expletive language, he was a shining example of a true backwater Aussie. Not to say that he was any bit uncultured. I (Ben) was frequently blown away by his almost encyclopedic knowledge of music, as well as by his many experiences traveling abroad. Colin was also really hilarious to talk to, especially after 4 or 5 vodka passionfruit drinks and a baker’s dozen of cigarettes. It was actually a rare occasion when Colin wasn’t accompanied by a can of UDL Vodka Passionfruit and a smoldering hand-rolled cigarette.
Tom had a particularly intimate encounter with the ants. He and Devin were working on a clogged sprinkler head beneath one of the mango trees when Tom noticed a stream of ants crawling out of his hair and down his neck and shoulders. As he began frantically brushing them off, Devin looked up to see that Tom had a grapefruit-sized ant nest resting on his shoulder, with dozens of very pissed-off ants pouring out. With girlish screams, Tom ran wildly out to a clearing, ripping his shirt off and swearing in both German and English, while Devin fell over laughing.