It wasn't hard to fix the problem, but it would have been better it it hadn't happened at all, if you catch my drift.
We found a park at the back of what we presumed were the markets, and set off on foot, with another phone call to establish that we'd arrived. Once inside we found an impressive array of stalls, which could well have consumed a couple of hours if we'd consumed breakfast.
Since we hadn't, something to eat was the first priority, with Madam claiming the last of one line of French pastries before I spotted a Spanish stall in what was, effectively, the Food Court. Abondigas on a bread roll mightn't exactly be authentic Iberian delivery, but the meatballs went down well, the roll provided a bit of filling, and there was room left on both sides of the table for a shared serve of paella.
Fed, the next item on the agenda was a jacket to replace the one Madam had left in Bowen, and Staggy's suggestion that we try looking at a stall called Material Pleasures proved spot on, and provided a straightforward rendezvous once the I'm here, where are you guys? call came through.
After a ramble through the Markets, a pause for coffee at the Canberra glassworks, we were off to the National Gallery, where Madam wasn't sure about catching the last day of the Ballets Russes exhibition, but ended up going in after helpful advice from someone who'd already been.
Mess Stagg and I took a stroll around the rest of the public bit, pausing for a lengthy chat in front of Blue Poles, which, some forty years after the controversy, looked remarkably innocuous amidst the other pieces. Still, it was a reminder of how far things have moved since the Whitlam Era, and reinforced my own aversion to ever going back to anything resembling the fifties.
After the Gallery, it was off to the accommodation in Narrabundah at the Hotel Heritage, and a break for an hour and a half before Staggy's collected us for dinner, ferrying us across to Timmy's Kitchen in Manuka, which delivers a quality and very tasty line in Chinese, Malaysian and Singaporean cuisine, which went down rather well with a Bloodwood Big Men In Tights and a Chardonnay.
A cup of coffee and a chat back in the hotel room, and we were ready for the cot, with the following day's game plan involving a run around some wineries in the morning and something in the regular tourist itinerary in the afternoon.