Pancakes, Neat. No, Wait, Make That On The Rocks
2nd Saturday and we're on the move, heading down to Sydney. Kitty and John meet us at the airport, and give us a bus tour of the town.
Steaks for dinner, and chat until way late – not much to write home about, just good for the chattees. So I'll stop writing home about it.
2nd Sunday and Easter is here – one day earlier than if I was still in the states. To show you how shallow my faith is, part of the joy of Easter this year is one day less of Lenten practices.
Ah, welcome back chocolate!
Kitty and John are in the choir, so we head off early to service. Then a trip to a place for pancakes on the rocks. I've had chicken and waffles, but never iced pancakes, so this would be a new experience for me.
Come to find out that "on the rocks" is a location here, across the way from the Opera House, and not slang for "with ice cubes." I still have ice cream with my chocolate pancakes; close enough, thinks I.
(Yes, I said chocolate pancakes. With orange slices, chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream. Worth the trip to Australia for that breakfast alone.)
More wandering the market, then home for some Doctor Who. Ah, perfect day.
Just my thoughts,