Heavenly Beverley : Surviving the Sofoulis Soiree...

I have been mysteriously missing in action for the last few days. All can now be revealed. Michael and I have been attendees at a weekend mass gathering of the Sofoulis family. and we have both lived to tell the tale.

Blast off was Friday. I had hoped to open the East End Gallery for a few hours both on Friday and Sunday. Unfortunately, the organisation of forty-eight hours away from home caused a production line of packing, cleaning the kitchen for our French backpackers and the ever-faithful Ryan, giving instructions on when, where and how to feed the Three Stooges, topping up Madame Cat's biscuit and the Pirate Parrot's seed and the actual travelling time torpedoed any chance of opening the Gallery.

If we caused disruption to your plans to visit the Gallery, I apologise profusely. We will be open with bells and whistles from Thursday as per usual.

And Michael was causing me concern. His flushing, sweating and restless sleep had returned last week. I debated trying to squeeze a doctor's appointment into the mix. In the end, I just started him on antibiotics. Tomorrow, we see the quack for a check-up of his chest and see if he can have his annual flu injection.

We set out at two o'clock in the afternoon. Destination - Ledge Point. Accommodation - a house with cousins Zoe, Faye and Penny, Party Central - Nic and Sue Sofoulis' home on the beach.

The journey was long and rather tedious. We stopped for emergency medicinal supplies of vino in Midland. Then Perth traffic made mayhem for another hour. Finally clear of the Big Smoke, we motored along in the evening gloom for another hour. We were relieved just to arrive in one piece.

Our accommodation was utterly delightful. A modernised house and we had our own room and en suite. Nobody bothered with the living room, except Zoe's godson Henry, who was trying to catch forty winks. We all congregated around the dining table which was big enough to sit six with ease and eight if necessary. There was also a huge outdoor area with glass table and multiple chairs.

Not that we were in the house for very long. Enough time to unpack and have a drink and unwind. Then it was off to the Ledge Point Country Club for dinner and First Encounter of the Weekend with the Family.

Any anxiety I had ebbed away as the evening was an absolute blast of very good food, plenty of laughter and animated chatter amongst us all. Some of the cousins, including Michael and Sue, reminisced about previous family gatherings.

The common themes caused great amusement. At a previous weekend in 1974, all the current fifty and sixty somethings had been teenagers or young adults. Staying up all night, sleeping in panel vans and long hair on both the boys and the girls were exhibited for all to see in a hilarious photo album. Later events, when most of the family had become model citizens, were also on display.

Then there was the memorable party at the House that Rocks when Michael was in hospital with pneumonia and I had to run the show without him. At that time, my children, cousin Zoe and sister-in-law Sandra had saved the day. That gathering passed in a whirling dervish of little sleep, minimal preparation and maximum panic. I am pretty sure everyone had a good time....

We returned to our house fairly early. We were both tired. The internet was fading in and out, so I gave up trying to go online. We had a glass of vino and went to bed. An auspicious start.

Saturday morning dawned. There was mass activity in our kitchen. Michael had not had a great night, so I left him sleeping and went to join the flurry. Penny and Faye were in the process of preparing enough food for the Five Thousand. Entire benches were being utilised for this process. There was a minor disaster when one of the door shelves of the fridge gave way. However nothing was spilt and we discovered that particular shelf had been previously glued by Someone Else.

The internet was still unreliable, so after a brief struggle, I gave up. I did run our slideshow of the history of our building and the East End Gallery. Apart from producing exclamations of horror and wonder at the Forbes building's original condition and what we had achieved, sharing these photos was a feel-good exercise for us, finally having reached our goal after all the hard slog.

The party launch and Second Encounter was from eleven. Naturally we arrived at noon. The roar could be heard from the street. The afternoon was a huge success. Four generations of the Sofoulis family were present and enjoying the day at full throttle. The amount of food was truly mammoth, the tables groaning under the weight. Nic, our genial and unflappable host, was in charge of barbecuing crayfish and just about every other savoury morsel of chicken and meat on the planet. Now a very successful crayfisherman, he had been a teacher in a past life.

The afternoon was filled with episodes that will remain with me forever. Grandchildren careering all over the house. The front door handle coming off in my hand - apparently a frequent occurrence. A junior member of the family hurling the same handle from the upstairs balcony, fortunately missing all heads below. Two of the younger set periodically popping in drenched from the outside shower. A dog named Ronnie confined to one of the bedrooms, making a huge fuss of me when I attempted to find the loo. Ronnie later hurtling amongst the family, barking from the balcony at passers-by. The third generation making themselves at home on their own private landing, gearing up for an action-packed night at another venue.

The vino flowed and the noise of chat and laughter increased. At some stage during the day, some very talented members of the family added a guitar and singing to the equation. We were also informed of the progress of a book on the family and I remembered I still had to write a biography of my father-in-law Lucky. I promised Faye I'd e-mail that information to her this week.

Michael's anxiety ebbed and flowed. Occasions such as this were bound to raise memories for him. Every now and then, we would scuttle to the sanctuary of an outside courtyard - the designated smoking area - meet other escapees and have a break from the crush and the noise. During one of these sessions, we caught up with Sue, Nic's wife and their daughters - all smokers.Sue and Michael remembered a party when they had sat up behind the original Ledge Point house all night. Sue had been unfortunately woken by her then small children about an hour later. That morning had been seared in her memory forever as not a well thought-out plan.

Michael wasn't the only guest with anxiety issues. Some of his fellow sufferers were plain to see in their discomfort. Others came out of the woodwork over that afternoon and the following morning. The mix of emotional responses would have been at home in any tragi-comedy.

Michael coped by unwinding with vino, food and the occasional flee to freedom. By mid-afternoon, he announced he was having a great time and became more gregarious in his mixing with the family. I was relieved to see him so relaxed as Judy's funeral and wake (Michael's Mum) had been fraught with emotional unease for him. His confidence was restored.

By six o'clock, I knew he needed to retire for the night. Sue and I herded him down the stairs into the great outdoors. I loaded him into the car and took him back to our digs. He'd drunk too much and smoked too much, but to see a gleefully mischievous glint in his eyes was worth any potential after effects.

He slept, more or less, for fourteen hours straight. He was unaware of his restlessness and dreams during the early part of the night. I knew from past experience he was processing the day's events. Later, his breathing became much deeper and regular. Then I was able to switch off and join him in Cloud Cookoo Land. And, extraordinarily, he woke with no nasty symptoms whatsoever.

The same could not be said for some of the third generation. A night of games, dancing on tables, lots of music and singing and a colander on at least one head had resulted in some very unwell bodies the next morning. I dispensed anti-nausea medication to one of the girls, whose face said it all and was hoping to write a two thousand word uni essay that afternoon. Been there, done that - not fun anymore. For us, hangovers now tend to be truly awful and take at least two days to recover from the unpleasant effects. Unlike the young, we do not bounce back well.

Sunday breakfast was the last hurrah of the celebratory weekend. Once more our kitchen became an assembly line of eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, baked beans and toast. Michael was in charge of the BBQ, frying a colossal pack of bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. Even so, we only just had enough to feed the twelve or so around the table.

We packed up, finished weekend long conversations and participated in extremely lengthy farewells. Not that we were finished with Ledge Point yet. We'd left our esky at Nic and Sue's. Eventually, after twelve, we left the coast and turned Goldie in the direction of home.

The weekend was a stupendous success. Few injuries apart from hangovers, a chance to see far-flung relatives and experience some amazing Greek hospitality. And learn the Greek spelling of Sofoulis. That was quite special - Σοφουλισ (this is not quite the same as "Sofoulis" was written on our name tags but I did Google how to write Greek!)

Now I really feel part of this astonishing family.

Fortunately, we have seven or so months to recover before Lucky's 90th birthday in December. Now, that promises to be another fabulous Sofoulis soiree.