Antipodean Courage

Our morning began with a brief further exploration of the neighbourhood in search of garbage bins and a Line 2 tram stop. (The latter, so I could get to the airport this afternoon to meet Josh and Stephen.)

Then it was swimming time. We visited the tourist information centre and then crossed the road to the pebble beach. Lyn went first and, after hobbling across the strand, managed to get wet up to her waist. Everybody else seemed content to lie in the sun. 

Determined to uphold the aquatic reputation of my nation, I took the situation in hand. I am the dot.

The water was warmer than Kiama when we left home.

We then walked home via the inevitable stops to admire or buy food. Here Lyn, displaying some leg and considerable courage, is in full French negotiation with a pasta dude.

After lunch we separated. Lyn to shop and Leon to ride the airport tram.

Josh and Stephen arrived safely after a typically Italian journey (chaotic). We fed them and took them for an explore.

Along the way Lyn decided to pose in front of strange sculptures.

We passed a demonstration gathering on the Promenade des Anglais. Then we passed increasing numbers of police including paramilitary types with covered faces. No photos because it seemed very unwise. Instead we stopped for an aperitif well away from the excitement.