The way back from Margaret River

La Serpiente had a sleep over last night, which meant she and another five year old girl occupied the same room and spent ages refusing going to sleep. Once she finally relented I sat in the kitchen for a while, until Destroyer had a fever and La Serpiente reappeared, asking for her mother. A good start to the night.

My wife looked after Destroyer while I shepherded La Serpiente back to bed, and I assumed that was the end of it; La Serpiente averages no more than one wake up call per night. But at three a.m. she was standing at the top of the stairs to our room, tottering about in the darkness and again asking for her mother. So I had to lie next to her in bed for half an hour (she refused to sleep this time unless she was lying on my arm) and then creep out the room.

By seven, I was in bits, La Serpiente was waking up fresh and Destroyer wasn’t feverish any more, so I got in the car and drove to Margaret River with my eldest. The route between our Airbnb and Margaret River is very simple, which didn’t stop me taking the wrong turn at a roundabout and driving in a five kilometre circle back to the roundabout. I guess that’s a roundabout route.

Still, eventually I got my shoes back, and after that got back home, where we were packing to leave. Between the three families we’d bought too much food, including a block of cultured butter, three cans of that idiotically strong stout, and bales of bread. To make things worse, after we left the house we drove to a winery and then a cheesery and bought even more. At least the beer, primed in the freezer, acted as ice packs to keep the cheese cool.

At Busselton we stopped for lunch, then drove to Bunbury to buy yet more groceries (mainly fruit) and then it was just the 150 km drive to the airport. Apart from a five minute delay caused my a major road accident ahead of us (a car had somehow managed to leave six inch deep grooves cut into the freeway, as well as losing its front and rear ends) and later La Serpiente doing dreadful things to her car seat, we got to the airport without much fuss.

I gave away two of the cans of beer to random men in the airport. Then I drank the third while eating smashed avocado on toast (how hipster is that?) before we went to check in. I’d paid an extra $6 for each of us to board first, and this was really worth it. Scoot don’t do anything to make the check-in process comfortable at Perth – there was a line snaking across the terminal as people waited to get checked in, and last time we flew through we lost several hours of our lives, but instead we walked to the head of the queue and were checked through in seconds.

That also meant that everyone else was still queuing up while we went through Immigration and security, which made the experience for us oh-so-pleasant. Except we had to surrender the cultured butter (which we’d not had so much as a taste of) as well as the soft cheese my wife had purchased. At least none of the beer was wasted

And so onto the plane, the kids managing to keep it together and Scoot, for no apparent reason, lighting the inside of the cabin up in rainbow colours. I didn’t just dream that, did I?

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