Promised not to leave it another forty two years. Be back a bit sooner. But it was time to return to the road. Continue the journey south. To the seaside town of Bargara. Few days riding. Off to stay with an old school friend of my neighbour Jon.
As much as it’d been simply great to chat to second cousin Ken, and his wife Sue, I’d enjoyed being able to muck in. Digging trenches. Moving rocks. Even a foray into the kitchen. But probably best to skip over my efforts at reversing with a trailer. Or the dubious recipe I’d found for cheesy mash. Interesting flavour Sue had said. I’d agreed. Wholeheartedly. Family can be so terribly polite.
