A Mother of a Day

The karting appeared to be so much fun, that immediately upon finishing, we booked to go again the next day. 

The evening at the pub went off without a hitch, although with the addition of several glasses of excellent cab sauv and one of a mediocre pinot noir. 

The next day's adventure commenced with tidying and exiting the accommodation, a lovely place by the beach, to which I inadvertently donated a delightful bottle of sangiovese when I left it in the pantry. We moseyed up the road to try to find a hot chocolate at the Chocolate Factory. Unfortunately, in today's industrial relations environment, the Oompa Loompas apparently don't start until 10, so it was a quick u-turn to a local cafe. 

Then, dear reader, we hit the track. 

It should be stated at the outset, that I had a single goal for the session, and that goal was the completion of a sub 50 second lap. It may be suggested by some that this goal may have resulted in some.. assertive driving on my part, which may or may not be characterised as... less than polite. An accidental shunt into the smaller member of the party, would, in some jurisdictions, have resulted in a Black Flag.

Let it be a lesson, however, to those of us considering such practices, that the outcomes of such an approach were limited to 50.167, most definitely not worth the reputational damage that results from this strategy. 

The karting complete, we headed back up to town, into the whirling vortex of Mother's Day traffic on Melbourne's major arterials. Elly was driving, and she artfully threaded her way through the legions of kamikaze idiots, to deposit our guest at his house, (finding time to duck past a florist to ensure he didn't arrive empty handed). 

Then a rapid series of stops to pick up a dog and drop off a kid and a dog and find a bottle of rose (I can't work out how to make it do the thing but this was wine not some flowers in a bottle I want to make that clear), and then we went to visit my mum.