Look a washer /drier

Moving day is upon us again and after another great sleep we set about the task of packing or cases and checking that we remembered to lift the Dove soap from the shower.  Check out was at 11 am and duly at 10.59 am we presented ourselves at the desk and relinquished our bamboo room keys.  These were the same as in Singapore and very different to the ye olde gaol type key in Istanbul.  We parked our cases at reception and decided to head up the main drag to find brunch.  We ended up in a huge shopping centre which initially looked promising. Sadly Mrs Verno was not in the mood of for sushi, noodles, donuts or ramen as a breakfast . More traditional fayre was in order so we headed back down to Tumbalong Park where we knew where eggs could be poached and bacon grilled.  See for yourself. 

The Korean Festival was into its second day and the early turns were in full swing.  After filling my boots with “The Power Brekkie” I spent a while watching the traditional costumes and dances on stage.  Mrs Verno managed to sneak up on me. I stated how impressed I was that she had found me in the crowd. To which she replied that it was not difficult to spot me.  The majority of the crowd were Korean is all I’m saying.  I had to confess that a camera man who was filming the stage for broadcast on to huge screens either side had asked me to get out of the road as I stood smack bang in front of the stage.

We stood for a while waiting for the Korean ABBA tribute gang to come on but instead we got four wonderfully dressed gentlemen who performed a strange minimalist dance that seem to consist mainly of leaning back and waving ones arms and down.  We moved on and had to get out of the sun..While I had slathered sun cream on again like it was free on prescription I could feel the burn on my calves.  We had a very pleasant parambulation around Cockleshell Wharf and then around a small part of Chinatown.  We returned to the hotel and bided our time until the appointed hour of our taxi to the airport.  The young lady who sorted this for us was from Meath and had only been in country for 9 months.  In contrast, the taxi man was from Pakistan and had been 14 years in Australia.He amused us by bemoaning the cost of plumbers after his daughter had blocked his drains with toy slime.  It seems that plumbers have a global reputation.

Anyway Mrs Verno celebrated the fact that Sydney Airport, Terminal 1 s a silent terminal where extraneous noise was frowned upon.  I took this as a personal slight but carried on regardless with all the extraneous noises I could make.

We now find ourselves on board an Air New Zealand flight to Wellington and will arrive at midnight local time so this is me writing up today’s blog on the plane so we don’t fall behind in keeping you good people up to date.  I’ll just need to add images and we should be good to go first thing in the morning.  As they say in New Zealand - Kia Ora and that’s one for the diluted juice lovers out there.

But just before I leave you for the night we were flagged for the Orange lane for Biosecurity checks.  Typical.  We lined up behind a dodgy looking pair of pensioners.  I know.  As their’s and our luggage was excreted from the x-ray machine their’s was flagged as ropey.  Bless the lady she made a grab for my bag in her panic and an attempt to drag us into it all before being summoned for the full day time tv search.  We legged it for a taxi and before you could say raw chicken in a case we were ensconced in our new room/suite/laundrette to be.  I am down to the last pair of kecks again.