I honestly cannot remember anything we did on Monday. Oh, yeah, in the morning Mom made the scones that Alice had given her a mix for. We added whipped cream and strawberry jam, but the parents were really disappointed. At least I had the advantage of knowing in advance that scones are not SUPPOSED to taste like anything. Later, I went shopping at Bondi Junction while Mom and Dad went off by themselves to hunt down some antique shops. It was a beautiful sunny day. After an hour or so, they spotted a hotel across the road, but couldn’t figure out how to get to it. Five minutes later, they were tottering on tiptoe on what they describe as a tiny strip of concrete in the middle of a highway, cars rushing past in both directions, the force pressing them forward and back, forward and back. They must have wobbled there for half an hour, they say, before Dad just closed his eyes and basically stepped out, forcing cars to screech to a halt. All I can say is, I’m glad I wasn’t there. Lunch, they said, was not worth the danger.
We packed and went to bed super-early, planning to be up at four in the morning to grab a taxi to the airport.
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