ago now but in the interests of keeping a diary like blog, I feel I must write a little bit about new year in Oz. So look away now if you are bored or have a naked lady to see to.New year was spent in the centre of Adelaide, a chilled out city just right for us older fellas. Some time ago we'd booked a restaurant, Red Ochre Grill overlooking the river for the midnight fireworks. It was such a good setting, well worth the wait. Fancy food, fancy wine and fancy footwork, not from me, just the Aussies trying to do Auld Lang Syne.
The next few days starting off 2011 were to be relaxing ones before coming back to the UK. We managed to stumble onto a namesake beach along from another beach, Normanville named after my late father. Speaking of stumbling, I also managed to stand on a stingray,
the famous fish that finished off Steve Irwin. Irwin would've been proud the way I fought it off by running like the wind back to shore. On the same beach, we saw dolphins and were shat on by some invisible creatures who think it's funny to leave a blob of mustard on your face. Despite this, this was officially our favourite beach of all, Mediterranean, white sand, clear turquoise water. Port Willunga beach, lush.
During all of this, we were staying at McLaren Vale, a wine region, right in the thick of it. It was recommended to use by someone who had heard it through the grapevines. A superb log cabin, The Producers Retreat with a Japanese bath and lots of homely touches. Even Alan the kangaroo started to relax while taking a bath with a glass of wine.
Soon, we were coming home. We've never been on such a great holiday, hard to return to the UK. You can understand why people emigrate, especially when you come back to sub-zero temparatures, roads riddled with pot holes, extraordinary traffic queues, ridiculous fuel prices and a workplace living in the past. Oh god it sounds so bad, now where's that visa...
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