Everyone lays picnic rugs on the sparkling astro - turf (
fark, I reckon there's about a million bucks of the stuff laid on that oval, going on the crazy quote I got for the muddy little patch in our backyard),
drinks wine, scoffs sausage sizzle and fairy floss, and lets their Fred Bare - clad kids run wild.
We also felt a bit tricked by breakfast — it was $ 75 each for the buffet (
fark me
drunk) at the hotel so we headed into town and came across a cafe offering what we thought was a bread / croissant / pastry buffet with
drink (coffee, tea, hot chocolate, orange juice) for the bargain price of around $ 13.