|Murray Mouth. Or Motor Mouth.|
|Happy snaps at the Murray River Mouth.|
|Murray River ferry.|
The next day was a BIG day though. After an hours drive we would be in the Coonawarra wine district, home of Big Reds and scene of one of the Best Day's of My pre-Trying to Be Responsible Life. I had drunk my way through a wine tour with some great friends back in my mid twenties. Oh life was grand- no kids, no mortgage, and no need to worry about which wine I was tasting : " I'll have a go at No 8 thanks! I believe it's the Peenott Nwaah" Snigger snigger. Needless to say the day ended with a bus full of guffawing twenty-somethings who'd made wine purchases based on the type of bag the bottle came in rather than taste, because let's face it, we stopped tasting at the second winery. I believe a bottle of port I'd bought at the 6th winery served as a doorstop for about eight years. Anyhoo, I digress. This time with kids in tow and a serious red wine buff at the helm, it actually was all about how it tasted (more ho hum).
Quite possibly the worst timed visit ever, FlicknAl were in the middle of selling their house and had an inspection the day after we arrived. But they were just as excited to see us and with Marguerite's head about to explode with anticipation, it was a lovely reunion. With complete understanding we were set up in the shed and the children were given strict instructions to touch ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!!
|Caesar and the Great Life Vest Tantrum.|
|Marguerite and Mac, FlicknAl's harassed dog.|