As this is the last year that we will live in walking distance of the Royal Melbourne Show, I thought we ought to go. It's on for 10 days every September, and we hadn't been for the last couple of years. It's very tantalising for the children as we can hear the fireworks every night from our house. They race out of their beds and into the back garden and up to the top of the ash tree as fast as they can (in pjamas and slippers, in the pitch dark). But it's not the same as being there, up close.
So, I packed the camera (just for you!) and we braved the crowds.
We were impressed by the craft section. Many preserves. Gloriously coloured preserves.
Incredible cakes. This one was the best. (I was going to say 'this one takes the cake.' But I refrained.) An edible sugary construction of Luna Park. Complete with little folk riding the roller coaster, hands in the air. Breathtaking. But it made me wonder about the person who made it ...
We got up close and personal with a llama,
a cross looking rooster,
and a duck with a very odd coiffure.
The evening 'entertainment' was a monster truck show (gah! Son No. 2 loved it). So did all the people in black t-shirts around us. This was followed by a very young very blonde American woman in a shiny tracksuit whose husband fires her out of a cannon. Rather fast.
Then came the fireworks. We all agreed they weren't as good up close after all, and that actually, when viewed from a tree in your very own garden, they are more enjoyable.
But this was the best. Up there at dusk, with my three wee boys. We could see our house from the top!