For my actual birthday, Katie took me to a town a bit north of Hobart called Melbourne.
For lunch, we went to a fantastic restaurant called Transport, where I had rabbit, and Katie had Wagyu Beef, washed down with lashings of expensive wine.
After a post-lunch siesta we headed west on Melbourne's fantastic public transprt system (that makes Sydney's look like downtown Berlin, circa August 1945) to my cousin Andrew's pub, Grumpy's Green, where we met up with Alexis, John, Robbie, and Phil. Oh and the landlord, who insisted that I sample all manner of strange ale, lager and porter. Unfortunately, nobody thought to take any photos.
Anyhow, that was my actual birthday, March 25 to be precise. Thank you Katie for making it so amazing, and for helping me to ease into my dotage that little bit easier.
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