Birthdays, Champagne & Cuban Cigars
The eve of my twenty-something birthday arrived with equal amounts excitement and trepidation and approximately a litre of wine. And when my girlfriend and I ran out of wine I went to the liquor store to get more wine. The older woman behind the counter looked pensively at my ID as I pushed forward a case of pinot noir.
“It’s your birthday tomorrow” she said.
I nodded my head.
“All of the years roll in very quickly from here.”
“One minute you’re living wildly in your early to mid twenties and before you know it you’re my age” she said swiping my debit card with her wrinkly hand.
Well that’s fucking great.
For the last 5 years I had celebrated my birthday in hotels in the city with a small group of girlfriends. It was a great excuse to drink, eat, party and sleep in the same spot while exerting as little energy as possible.
This year I felt it was time to kick it old school…And by old school I mean quite literally get a hotel near my old school.
The next morning I woke up a year older and boarded a plane from Sydney to Noosa.
Of all of the luxurious hotels on Hastings Street my favourite would have to be On The Beach.
Not only is it located directly on the water above my favourite brunch spot, Bistro C but all of the rooms are beautifully appointed with private balconies. On arrival I found this thoughtful card plus a complimentary box of chocolates and bottle of Veuve.
However the stand out feature of this penthouse room was the view…
I barely had time to take a selfie on the upstairs balcony and post it on Facey when my friend, Miss R called…
“Don’t fucking tell me you’re in the room already!?” She said.
“Well if I can’t surprise you then you better come down and help me carry this shit, I’ve got a dozen helium balloons, a box of Cuban cigars and a cake from Fiona Fancies. I’ve just been spotted by two pregnant girls from high school and the last thing I want to do is get caught on Hastings Street talking about fucking babies”. In case you haven’t already noticed Miss R is Noosa’s equivalent of Eddie from the biblical television series, Absolutely Fabulous. And she is every bit my best and most fabulous friend.
The next of my friends to arrive was Miss L, she looked sweet as pie but there is no one in the whole world that can sell a vibrator like her, it must be her calming maternal nature however the only thing she intends on nurturing is a bowl of ravioli. Miss L is my oldest best friend and shares the same love for committing sweet, sweet carbocide in front of the TV. Is there anything better?
So there we were myself, Miss R and Miss L soaking up the view on the balcony with a glass of champagne when in walked the missing piece, Miss J hot off a hiking trip. She was trim and toned and tight like a tiger and none of us could take our eyes off her.
“Nope you have to leave” said Miss L
“You’re way too fucking hot, look at that bod!”.
I couldn’t explain how good it felt to have all of my best friends back together in Noosa for the weekend. None of us had been home in so long and we couldn’t wait to celebrate together.
We kicked things off by getting naked and into our robes.
It wasn’t long ago that we were in the sand dunes getting drunk off our first bottle of passion pop. This year we made a pact to keep it classy at least until 10 o’clock.
While Miss J and I were busy on the balcony causing a scene with our absurd hair curlers, Miss R walked out with a CD and raised it in the air.
“The Best of Prince will be the soundtrack for this weekend” We all threw our glasses up in the air.
“Okay Stop” I said. “We must go and do our eye make up before we get too drunk”.
Now that’s wisdom!
“What is that little orange box?” I asked Miss R as she carefully applied her winged liner in the mirror.
“They’re cigars darling, professionally hand rolled in Cuba Cohibas...” – Whatever the hell that means.
“Didn’t I tell you how I got robbed in Cuba, lost $4000, nearly detained in Cuba and missed my flight and had to do a round trip to Panama and then I met the love of my life, Jose (pronounced ho-say)“. She said running her fingers sensuously across the gold ribbon.
And that’s how smoking a cuban cigar Miss R had smuggled back into the country along with her Spanish lover became the milestone of this birthday.
By 6 pm we were all dressed up and had agreed on a game plan. We’d enjoy the wine, cheese and meats on the top balcony, indulge in a couple of cigars, another bottle or two of French champagne then we’ll all be in bed by midnight so that we could get up early in the morning and go for a jog in the National Park followed by a nice breakfast at Bistro C.
At 7 pm we had finished all the cheese, wine and box of chocolate when the song Sexy MF (Mother Fucker) by Prince came on the CD player.
“I wouldn’t mind going for a walk“. Miss J said.
“I want an espresso martini.” – Miss R.
“I want to see if there’s anywhere I can get Two Minute Noodles after 1 am…Just to be safe.” – Miss L.
“Fuck it, I want to go out and see all the people we went to school with.” – Me.
And that’s how the night really began.
On a rooftop, in Noosa, with my girlfriends and in that moment it was just like we were all sixteen again.