We had our best beach holiday ever. The house was great, the weather was perfect, the beach was idyllic (apart from that moment on Hyams Beach where there was a shark in the water and everyone had to get out) but we saw dolphins twice, canoed, paddle boarded, ate lunch at Rick Stein's, crawled through rock tunnels to get to a spectacular view, had water balloon fights, went to the fun fair, relaxed in the hot tub, ate more bacon than you'd think humanly possible, had ice cream (scoops as my stepson terms it) every day and finished the final evening with a family viewing of School of Rock. Charlie had the best time, adored by everyone, loved swimming in the sea (not so keen on being put in the canoe), ran 7k every day with L and generally enjoyed being the family dog. The only thing that would have made it better was another week.
Now we're home and the house is empty, two went back to Sydney, three went back to Perth and one is house sitting. I went to bed at 10 last night, missed the midnight fireworks and only woke at 12.30 to the sound of my neighbour putting bottles in his recycling bin.