We'd already received comments about wind from friends and acquaintances, and when someone from Blowin’ Bowen tells you a place is windy, you better believe it's windy, boys and girls.
Now we could probably have ignored the signs that advised the road loop was for buses and disabled people only and driven further up, but we're law-abiding citizens and we walked from the car park to the summit.
We didn't have much else pencilled in between Grassy Hill and dinner at the Bowls Club and I could probably have stayed up there, meditating on matters historical and the ways of this wicked world until Madam had finished capturing (photographers, in case you didn't know, don't merely take photos, they capture images) the sunset if it wasn't for the wind.
Back in the car we headed back down, pausing for a bit at the second car park and lookout, where the views were almost as spectacular but didn't give you the full three-sixty, and headed down to the shores of the Endeavour to fill in the time until we signed ourselves in at the Bowls Club for dinner.
Sunset turned out to be a bit more spectacular than Madam had expected, given the light conditions when we were atop Grassy Hill and it was around a quarter to six when I managed to prise her away from the setting sun and point us in the direction of dinner.
To the best of my recollection I've never eaten in a bowls club, and I doubt there's a bowls club in any town of a similar size that has an eatery with a menu to match this operation. Actually, there aren't too many restaurants that have a menu that would match what's on offer here. More...