EM and TM spent the middle night of their mini-break at La Villa Addster. As an early birthday* gift, they shouted me dinner at Churrasco, where we noshed on quantities of roasted meat befitting medieval monarchs. T. spotted a pair of likely lagers on the drinks menu, which we hastened to order. Brazil's Brahma was found to be grog-standard (albeit in a cool, asymmetrical bottle). Italy's Menabrea had a far classier flavour and I plan to invest in a sixpack. Back at my joint, we watched the rugger Test on telly (Wallabies 29 - Wales 23) and my fave concert on DVD ("The Complex Rock Tour Live" by Blue Man Group). This morning, I took sis and her hubby on a walk around my stomping ground, chiefly Randwick Racecourse and the University of New South Wales campus. EM and TM are effortless to get along with. I'm sad they're gone - and sorry they live a whole state away.
*For any heirless eccentric billionaires perusing this on their deathbeds, it's June 4.