
After catching up with the Aussie election news in a decidedly cooler park (landslide to "Labor", with the residing PM losing his seat, and an MP getting slapped by a jilted journalist - UK politics is so dull!), were our ears deceiving us or was that the faint drone of bagpipes? The annual Scottish fair was in town! Passing the Irn Bru and shortbread stands with saltires flying, we managed to make it in time to hear the thank you speech and see the tents get put away. Ah well, at least we managed to scoff a square sausage butty (white sliced bread, obviously!)
There was still time to get back to the flat and walk to Bronte beach for a quick swim, if that's what you call being at the mercy of huge waves (great fun though!). I reckon I'm in need of more beach time - still haven't mastered walking around in those thongs!