Their discussion with our hostess revealed they were off to Hobart and MONA, and subsequent interaction between neighboring tables revealed they were nearing the end of an eight week tour of Australia encompassing Darwin, Kakadu, Port Douglas, Cairns, the Whitsundays, Sydney (I think), Adelaide, the Barossa, Melbourne and Launceston. From Hobart, they were off to Perth via Melbourne and back home.
That's a pretty solid itinerary, so The Astute Reader witless probably grasp the modification in the age assessment above. They looked elderly, but elderly doesn't equate to that sort of independent itinerary.
The conversation was interesting, particularly when Madam asked for a favourite experience. the tall ship in the Whitsundays came as a bit of a surprise, and further justification of the age reassessment.
Equally interesting we the portions of blood pudding and haggis on the side when our bacon and eggs arrived. Our hostess seemed quite determined to offer the two extras to anyone heading towards bacon and eggs. I may have encountered haggis somewhere along the line, but blood pudding was somethingI'd previously gone out of my way to avoid, largely due to an impression that the item in question equated roughly to English stodgy. What arrived on the side plate was surprisingly spicy and while I'm not yet a convert I'm willing to be persuaded.
The haggis wasn't bad either, and subsequent discussion with the hostess covered a close to worldwide tendency to convert offal and the lesser cuts off the beast you've killed into something resembling sausages. We tend not to think of beef sausages, for example, in the same way as haggis or blood pudding regardless of the fact that much of the contents therein are of rather similar origin in the offal department.
The same point, of course, applies to salami, the various forms of wurst, and French charcuterie.
We were ready to depart almost immediately after breakfast, and once the bill had been paid, and the key handed back there was one minor item that needed to be attended to. Those of us about to undertake significant exercise are invariably reminded of the need to maintain adequate levels of hydration, and we needed to pick up a six pack of the ubiquitous bottled water.
After a visit to the IGA on the corner, we were off towards Wineglass Bay, and I made what turned out to be a rash promise to be back for lunch as we passed the fish shop, where I planned to demolish another dozen oysters later in the piece.
There are three wineries north of Swansea, and we could have headed up that way the previous afternoon, which would have sorted out the evening's Riesling issue, but the place I particularly wanted to get to didn't seem to be open for tasting purposes, so I was disinclined to bother. There was nothing to suggest that it was open as we sailed past on the way to Freycinet National Park, but shortly thereafter we passed Freycinet Vineyards, which was or rather would be by the time we were headed in the opposite direction.
When Madam suggested there'd be time to stop there on the return journey I wasn't going to argue.