The Spicy Cough Club Goes For Ice Cream

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Sister woke sneezing and spluttering and soon it was official: we had all joined the Spicy Cough Club. Official Days Off were declared, in effect immediately and until such time as we were all fit to go out in public again. Being the least spluttery person, I put on my N95 mask and did a quick run to the shop for essentials such as Panadol, Iboprufen, herbal tea, and chocolate. Roger drank his lemon and ginger infusion and declared it tolerable in the circumstances.

And then we stayed at home.

We napped, played Quiddler, and swam in the pool.

After a day or two everyone was sufficiently recovered for cabin fever to be setting in, so we declared ourselves capable of open air social distancing and took ourselves for a drive in part to share some of Adelaide with sister and in reality to look for ice cream. And of course looking for ice cream means going to Glenelg, so there we went.

The summer crowds have largely gone, which makes for easy social distancing.

Glenelg was suitably empty for us to be able to avoid all human contact. We walked out on the jetty and watched young boys risk life and limb to a) climb up on and b) jump off rusty piers.

The up.

The down.

Along the waterfront we watched art installations being constructed, part of either the Adelaide Fringe or Adelaide Festival. Adelaide has so many festivals that they have to double up on the calendar and these two are easy to confuse given they share the same initials.

High-vis workers, light and sound systems, obscure visual references to whale ribs: has to be an art installation.

 Declaring ourselves sufficiently exposed to fresh air and exercise, we went home and settled down for the night apart from a brief flurry of activity when sister and I decided to go watch the sunset from Windy Point.  The sun had not got the sunset memo and sank into murky obscurity over the sea, the only bright spot being the lights on the big wheel at Glenelg and the breathless hyperbole left over from the early 1900s.


Naples, Rio de Janiero etc, eat your heart out.


Thoroughly underwhelmed by the not-a-sunset, we took ourselves home again and settled in for the nightly Quiddler match.

She's still beating me, I might add.


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