It is odd to me that (as previously chronicled on these pages) I have only the haziest of memories of previous time spent in Australia EXCEPT it turns out that I remember the tiniest details of the time I spent in Queensland.
I remember Noosa beach,
I remember walking along Hastings St (I even, I’m ashamed to say, remember having breakfast here wearing a blue silk bandana on my head. Why? Why?)
I remember this night club, where my sister Róisín coined the phrase ‘twenty hundred’. She was looking for a snappy comeback to some gormless English kid … but it didn’t come out exactly right.
I remember Wild Horse Mountain where we stopped on our way back to Brisbane to admire the view,
And I took a picture of three lovely ladies, Róisín, Alma and Máire Áine walking back down this path.