My final day in Oz started bright and sunny. It ended with thunder and lightning and pouring rain but that’s a bit further down the page.
After a few cups of coffee, mum dragged me 27 miles down Bulcock Street in search of the RACQ office. Just to be a bit tricksy, it had been moved so mum had to ask directions of a woman who had just been to the dentist.
“It’s just down there. Cross the road and walk through the roundabout,” she mumbled through a strategically place hand.
It seems that the RACQ office is a popular destination of a Friday morning. We waited while the queue was gradually whittled down.
Eventually mum was called forward and she cancelled her roadside assistance. Sadly it’s only for vehicles and not wonky knees. We then headed for Gloria Jean’s for a latte.
We sat and watched the world go by, regularly commenting on the appalling parking habits of the drivers and exchanging views on excessively noisy motor bikes with fellow cafenistas.
“You have to wonder what they lack to make so much noise,” I observed.
“I think it’s a very small issue,” suggested a chap sitting behind mum.
Eventually we made our way back to the house where we waited for Denise ahead of my final visit to the bowls club. It was while we were there that the weather turned somewhat vindictive.
Not that it deterred the hardier bowlers, of which there were a few. The hoods went up and they bowled on regardless. We watched in the comfort of the clubhouse and had a very enjoyable lunch.
Actually I had a very enjoyable lunch. Denise and mum had chicken schnitzels which had seen much better days.
Eventually the rain stopped for a bit and we walked home where we sat and waited for my bus to arrive.
While we waited we were treated to a wonderful Skype from my very posh wife, giving us a tour of our lovely lush garden.
Then, five minutes early, a knock at the door and there was my airport ride. Lots of goodbyes later and I was off.
Of course I arrive at the airport a few days early so settled in with a latte, my book and dreams of home.