Mole or piercing on the waitress? Still not sure.

Byron Bay, February 2011

Since moving to the farm, days have lost their meaning. We could pop up to Brisbane on a Wednesday and then work the weekend, it doesn't matter. The perks are when you have a night out in Byron on a Tuesday and lie on the beach the next morning, there's no one there. I thought no one worked in Byron anyway? Good point. But this day it was just the dophins, the kayakers trying to take photos of the dolphins, a few crusty surfers and us. We had been to Italian at the Pacific - it's next door to the Beach Hotel on the front there at Byron. Sweet low riding chairs, tasty wine and fresh pasta. Ricey nearly blew a button with his slow cooked lamb shank lasagne. The only bombdive was the creme brulee. Some monkey put pineapple or another other unwelcome fruit in there. Huge mistake. Italian nona's would be turning in their grave. Apart from that delightful. 8/10