#Breakfast in Port Adelaide | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years ago

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Thursday 10 August 1837

7 ¾

11 55

the flags wet – damp morning with small rain F57 ½° at 8 ¾ - sent off at 8 ¾ my note written and dated last night to ‘Charles Priestley Esquire’ compliments – should be glad to see him in the course of tomorrow (i.e. today) if convenient to him; if not, beg him to name the nest earliest time that may suit him – ready in an hour – making memoranda – went downstairs at 9 – A- had Mr. Horner – breakfast at 9 5 with Mr. Gray and sat talking till 10 about the Russian railroad to Moscow (from St. P-) and the colosseum and the Adelaide gallery in London (Mr. G- partly did the artificial water and boat sailing on it) – then planning about the east tower cellaring etc. to be lighted (if light so wanted) by flat-roofed passages under the terrace – then in the wine cellar – had the inner door cased – then on coming out (1 port 1 migma and 1 marsala) had Mr. Garlick, surgeon (H-x) to apply for standage for 2 gigs and if the hotel tenant preferred it stable room for one horse – out about – out then at 11 ¼ – John Booth came back from taking the empty barrels and my note to Mr. Charles Priestley and brought note back – Mr. CP- will be here at 10 on Saturday morning if possible – Letter from Mr. Watson for Messrs. Gray, York, for A- Mr. Jonathan G- from home or A- letters would have been answered sooner – no letter therefore had been written to Mr. W. Priestley but they would claim the money due (£540) and if WP- did not pay the money Messrs. G- would threaten him with a chancery suit – brought the letter in to A- sat talking it over till near 1 – agreed that Mrs. AW- had better write her own instructions to Messrs. G- to proceed as they proposed and to receive the annuity for her in future – I wrote A- copy of what her aunt should write A-‘s pony being galled with the girth and unable to bear the saddle, A- and I set off to walk to Cliff hill (George to follow by and by with the other pony and walk back himself) at 2 ¾ - walked with her to beyond Hardcastle’s (Roydelands) and left her there at 3 23 walked leisurely back – stopt some while at Hipperholme quarry in returning – and a little while at the Listerwick engine pit and wheel-race – the pentrough put up – the head wheelwright promised that all should be ready for Joseph Manns’ going on with the engine pit the end of the next month – 19th August instead of 1 June!!! – home about 4 ½ - with Mr. Gray planning about the glacis on the east side of farmyard and house – then with Sam Booth and Jack Green planting out 2 fine young Ragland oaks on the back road embankment near the back Lodge – then at the Lodge with Mr. Gray and Mawson planning about Lodge-stuff moving at 9d. per yard – about 80 yards will be done when the mass agreed for was [cleared] off – ordered another mass down = about 180 yards at 9d. 180+80 = 260 at 9d. = £13.10.0 – spoke to Zebedee at noon today about taking Franks’ place in going to the post – he said he was no scholar – he would rather go with horses – I said I should have no regular going with horses – but he had best consider whether he would like to stay or not the greatest inconvenience to me would be his not living nearer than Hx- Hinton came at 7 to ask for carts at Northgate and if I wanted the stone that came out of the drains he was going to make – the stone by custom his – no! in that case quite satisfied but did not want it – referred him to Blythe for carts – came in at 7 10 – A- wanted me her aunt had written the letter and A- had written copy of letter to Mr. Gray I wrote her another shorter letter for herself which she copied and sent – Dinner at 7 25 A-‘s Travellers Inn tenant Holt came to ask her if she had a field to let – she had one, but had somebody else in view for it, but would not forget his application – coffee at 9 – read the paper – A- came upstairs before 10 and about or soon after 10 at which hour F57° very fine day – had just written so far of today at 10 40 pm

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breadandbreakfast · 3 years ago

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Hello! This weekend's breakfast was from 'The Banksia Tree' in Port Adelaide. I decided to be boring and get the bacon and egg meal.

This was yet another venue where you can see into the kitchen, which is always cool. They also cooked their food on real wood fires, which is neat! I did find the cafe pretty noisy; I really struggled to hear the far end of the table (though my hearing is lousy, so take that with a grain of salt).

The food was expensive here, but my meal was very nice! It was just your standard eggs and bacon, but it all worked together great. The bacon was nice and had a decent flavour to it apart from "salty". The egg was a nice combo of oily and salty. All in all, it was a very good example of the breed.

One thing I want to complain about is the goddamm brioche! I was thinking of getting the breakfast burger before I realised it was made with my nemisis brioche. And the same goes for many of the dishes here. I can tolerate brioche when it's used in a sweet dish, but otherwise I object on every possible level. Fuck brioche, all my homies hate brioche.

#bread #breakfast #food #foodblog #egg #bacon #egg and bacon

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rileywrites · 4 years ago

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If you’re still doing prompts, this is from your prompt list in the random section — nos. 4 or 14, or from the fluff section, no. 12, in yet another of my reluctantly shipped ships, the Book of Nile. *sigh* (I have fulfilled the requirement of the manifesto) 😆

I wanted to give you options just in case someone already asked for any one of these!

Or, if you want, you could go for my original prompt, which would be: Nile has now learned Italian, Ancient Greek, Modern Greek, perfected her Arabic, etc. When Booker returns to the fold, Nile asks him to teach her French, (which Andy, Joe, and Nicky always said would be his job when he came back) but he basically gives her the “Ask your mother” “Ask your father” treatment, passing the responsibility like a hot potato between the other members of the Guard. After some time has passed, Nile catches him quietly singing songs in his old dialect of French, and oddly, only when the two of them are alone in a room. Since his old dialect has basically died out, she can’t exactly google translate. But she begins to suspect something’s up when Quynh stops dead in her tracks after she walks in on Booker singing something while making breakfast, as Nile sits at the table, enjoying everything, which leads to Quynh disappearing, and quiet laughter coming from the bedrooms. After a confrontation, he admits he didn’t want to teach her French, at least not for a while, because he wanted to have the ability to tell her how he feels about her through singing ancient French love songs, without her knowing, promising himself he’d teach her his language, when or if the day ever came that he could tell her in words.

I’m so sorry it’s a bit long, but this just popped in my head, and I know you’ll do wonders with this, if you decide to do it. No hard feelings at all if you don’t!

Thank you so much, you’re an amazing writer, you capture the voices of the TOG characters so well — I always smile when I see your name pop up with a new BoN story on AO3!

Thank you for this wonderful prompt, darling! I have absolutely run with it. I will write the snippet prompts eventually, but this one grabbed me by the throat.

Read on Ao3 Here.

...

After fifteen years with the Guard, Nile has a pretty good handle on just about any language you could think of.

Nile can give a eulogy in Spanish, ask for directions in Pashto, negotiate a weapons deal in Russian, woo a honeypot target in Italian, con a businessman in Greek, and navigate trade in Arabic. She can read, write, and speak Ancient Greek (circa Nicky and Joe's era) and is passable in several dead languages from the Steppe and Southern Asia. She's decent at Mandarin, getting pretty fucking good at Vietnamese, and doing her damnedest to learn Hindi. (It's a struggle.)

The one language she hasn't picked up yet is French.

It isn't for lack of trying. Her grasp at French is enough to not get her killed, but most of her practice has been with Quebecois or the dialects spoken in Morocco. Basically, if she spoke French in France, they would laugh at her, and her comprehension isn't great

"When Booker comes back, he'll teach you," Andy promises. "He has the most modern French between the five of us. It will do you better to learn from him."

"That doesn't do me any good in the interim," Nile points out.

"He'll be back any day now," Andy says. "Trust me, he'll crack soon."

...

Nile gets to their most recent safehouse late after a long night of schmoozing. She hates long cons, hates that some of humanity's evil can only be taken down with espionage and not brute force.

Her feet are killing her. These sky high boots make her ass look amazing, but her leg muscles regret every life choice she's ever made.

The TV is on, even though Joe and Nicky are supposed to be on recon. With Andy and Quyhn in Istanbul following a lead (to keep a grouchy Andy off of desk duty for a weekend), Nile's senses are on high alert.

She enters carefully, gun drawn.

"Don't shoot," Booker says, hands up. He smiles slightly. "I would have messaged, but I don't have your latest code."

"I still have the Nokia you gave me," Nile points out. "Andy could have told you that."

"Maybe I wanted to surprise you."

"You definitely have too much of a death wish for someone who can't die."

Booker doesn't have a comeback for that. Nile holsters her gun.

"Hug me, you sneaky bastard. It's been literal years."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He crosses the room in two strides and steps into her waiting arms.

When they collide, it knocks the wind out of Nile's lungs. Breathing is irrelevant anyway, when she's in Booker's arms.

"I missed you, asshole," Nile says into his shoulder, probably getting makeup on his dumb denim shirt.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry that I did not visit sooner." Booker rubs one massive hand over her back. "Your feet probably hurt. I should let you get changed."

"One more minute."

Later, when Nile has had time to change into an oversized t-shirt and Nike shorts, her wig back on its mannequin head, Nile sits down with her feet in Booker's lap and grills him for information.

"I got sober about five years ago." Booker rubs her feet without hesitation, well-trained from centuries with Andy. "I haven't had a drop since."

Nile nudges his chest with the foot he isn't massaging.

"I'm proud of you. It can't have been easy."

"It wasn't." Booker bats her foot away. "It was worth it, though. You deserve a better teammate - you all do. Besides, I don't need to spend the rest of my immortality intoxicated. Six thousand years is a long time to be drunk."

"So what have you been doing since?"

"I spent a lot of time Journaling, processing my emotions. I worked in several literacy programs across the world, staying long enough to help but not too long." Booker shrugs. "Safer that way, I guess."

"Did you bring me pictures?"

"Of course. I have no clue how you keep finding film for Polaroid knockoffs though. It's twenty-thirty-five."

"I have my ways." Nile makes grabby hands in his direction. "Pictures. Please tell me there's pictures of you holding cute children you're teaching to read."

"Of course there is." Booker finds the envelope in his bag, careful not to dislodge her.

The tiny gesture is so fucking heartwarming it hurts.

"I have training in literacy coaching in English and French, so I've worked just about everywhere."

The photos are fucking adorable. Nile flips through them with glee, enjoying the tiny humans and huge Booker sharing textbooks and screens. One little girl in particular pops up in several.

"That's Adelaide," Booker says when Nile holds one up. "I stayed in Port Au Prince for almost a solid year, because I couldn't bear being another to abandon them. When she was adopted by a family in the church, I decided it was time for me to come home myself."

"That reminds me. You're back, which means I finally get to learn proper French."

Booker hesitates.

"Come on, Book, I know you have the qualifications." Nile retrieves her feet so she can kneel by his side on the couch. "You promised. Andy promised. No one else will teach me."

"Nicky hates French," Booker points out.

"I know, and everyone else is too stubborn. They all want you to teach me." Nile fidgets with his rolled-up sleeve. "I want you to teach me."

One good bat of her eyelashes later, and Booker finally agrees.

"Fine, fine, I will teach you French."

"Yes!"

"Eventually. For now, you need rest. Andy will insist on a stupidly early call tomorrow."

...

Six months later, and Booker hasn't said three words to Nile in French. He uses it on jobs, with Joe and Andy, when he talks to himself, but not with her.

They end up in Calais for three days, longer than expected, and Nile bugs him to go out with her.

"Come on, you can teach me in the field. I can practice." Nile pokes him in the arm. "You can laugh at my shitty attempts to use your language, and then you can correct me. Fun and educational!"

"I have too much to do, Nile. I have to make sure this program runs properly, or else we can't get on that plane." Booker waves her off. "Go read something. We have more books than sense here."

"That's not hard, when you're dumb." It's petty, infantile, but it gets Booker to smile and that's enough. "Fine. Don't think it's the end of this, though. You promised to teach me."

"I know, ma cherie, and I will. But for now, entertain yourself."

Nile grumbles. "I am forty-one years old. Don't act like I'm a child."

"I know you aren't a child. However, you are being a brat, so shoo."

"Asshole."

Nile pokes through the books in Booker's latest pile and fishes out something newer and trashy. Brainless. It'll do.

(And if she gets him to throw couch pillows at her by doing dramatic readings of the worst bits, all the better.)

...

Booker has been back in the fold for almost a year.

"Booker, you promised."

A year, and Nile is still just as shit with French - except for the curse words. She knows a whole stable of curse words now.

"Ask Andy."

Nile huffs. "I've been asking Andy for almost sixteen years, Booker. She says you'd be the best one to teach me."

"I don't know about that," Booker says, frowning.

"You're the French one."

"They've spoken French since it was invented."

Nile sighs. "Forget it. I'm going for a run."

She slides her ancient Nokia into her armband and pulls on her sneakers. A run will clear her head.

He doesn't say anything when she leaves. Nile tries not to take it personally.

They're in Istanbul, following up on the lead Andy and Quyhn have been chasing down. They're going to the Hippodrome in the morning, but for now, Nile has the evening to herself.

Why does this whole French thing piss her off so much?

(Nile isn't an idiot. She knows why.)

Maybe she'd be less irritated if he hadn't started singing recently.

It's nothing too obvious, just little snippets of old-sounding songs in a version of French that is either impossible for her to spell, too old for Google Translate, or both.

Nile turns a corner, mentally marking her distance as her feet hit the pavement.

Maybe she wouldn't care as much if Booker sang when the others were around, but he doesn't. It's just when it's the two of them.

Booker is asleep in the armchair by the time Nile gets back. She pokes and prods at him until he's awake enough to shuffle back to the bedroom.

"We've got a long day tomorrow." Nile shakes him gently. "Don't fall asleep in your boots."

"M'good," Booker says, then mumbles something incomprehensible in French.

"Goodnight, Booker."

"Bonne nuit, ma cherie," Booker says.

Nile can figure that much out.

...

The next morning, Nile wakes to singing and the smell of breakfast. She pulls on a hoodie and shuffles out of her room, scarf still on because fuck it.

"G'morning," she says, muffled by a yawn. "Coffee?"

Booker pours her a cup as she sits at the table. Before she's done with the coffee, an omelet appears before her.

"You are the fucking best." Nile digs in, content to enjoy the moment.

Good food, good company, and surprisingly good singing.

Nile is halfway through her omelet, Booker still be-bopping around the kitchen singing, when Quyhn and Andy get in from their morning run.

Both freeze in the doorway before Booker can notice, but Nile watches their minds race.

"Good morning," Nile says.

Quyhn whispers something in Andy's ear, and they walk quickly back to their bedroom.

Booker seems to realize they're there about the moment quiet giggling comes down the halls.

Nile didn't realize Andy could do anything other than chuckle gruffly these days.

Booker blushes bright red and his eyes go wide.

"Booker, your breakfast," Nile points out before it can burn.

"Fuck." Booker rescues his omelet. "I should go talk to them."

Nile stands, hemming him into the kitchen.

"Why are they giggling, Book?"

Booker refuses to make eye contact, but Nile doesn't back down.

She's been a mercenary for a decade and a half. She's faced down gangsters and serial killers and oligarchs. She can handle pinning Booker down with a glare.

"They, ah..." Booker rubs the back of his neck. "They speak French?"

"I know they speak French. Why were they giggling?"

Booker finally makes eye contact.

"They're love songs, Nile. I've been... I've been singing sappy shit from my youth, because I knew you wouldn't understand."

"That's why you wouldn't teach me."

It isn't a question, but Booker nods anyway.

"I was scared," he finally admits. "Scared for you to know."

Nile wants to say something meaningful. Wants to sweep him off his feet, wants to kiss him stupid, wants everything in the world.

Instead, she steps back.

"We have a job to do. Tonight, if you want to, if you're ready, I want you to translate your songs for me. Then we can talk, yeah?"

"I-" Booker nods. "Yeah. Yeah, that works for me."

She turns on her heel to go get ready for the day, leaving Booker in the kitchen staring after her, baffled.

...

Later, blood and mud spattered and healing from a sizeable fall from a horse, Nile limps into her bedroom. She manages to get most of her layers off and into a basket to see if they can be salvaged, but her ribs are still healing so bending too much is out of the question.

Getting her bra off is an Olympic event.

Booker doesn't knock until after she's showered.

"Come in."

"I brought you... well, the translations." Booker holds out a new-feeling leather journal. "I wrote down all the ones I could think of. You can read them, and I'll just-"

"Sit," Nile says before he can escape. "Please, stay."

Nile reads, connecting words to tunes he's been singing for weeks.

They're sappy, fond, romantic, saucy. Nile enjoys peeking up at Booker to see him blush almost as much as the love confession she's holding in her hands.

When she reaches the end of the lyrics, Nile crosses the tiny bedroom and looks Booker in the eyes.

"Booker?"

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to teach me French?"

Booker nods, blushing. "If you would like, ma cherie."

Nile finally kisses him. "I would like that very much."

#rileywrites #asked and answered #prompts #Anonymous #RileyWrites Fanfiction #my work #the old guard #tog fanfiction

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

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This isn’t a World Windows post but it could be considered one.

This is for @onereyofstarlight and follows on from a discussion we were having about mangroves and Auckland.

Adelaide sits on the Gulf of St Vincent. North of Adelaide the wave action pretty much disappears and this has enabled mangroves to grow colonies up and down the coast.

Of course, being close to a metropolitan area, the damage to these fragile ecosystems has been massive. There are swaths of coastline where the mangrove forests have been annihilated. Those beaches feel ever so wrong, so sick.

But anyway, some has been saved, and I grew up aware of these places because my father used to visit a place called Port Gawler where stolen cars would be dumped and he would farm them for parts. ::rolls eyes:: (there was an attempt to go crabbing for blue swimmer crabs, but it wasn’t until about five years ago that I actually saw my first live blue swimmer crab and that was 150kms further north and in a different gulf).

Port Gawler was a beautiful place and I learnt so much about estuaries - it is where the Gawler River meets the sea (in any other country it would be Gawler Creek, but us South Australians value whatever freshwater we can get and so therefore it is a River). It is a mangrove swamp with a wide sandy flat in the middle of it and a great place to explore - until they built the motocross park in the sanddunes to formalise the ecological damage random bike riders were doing when I was a kid and now visits to the beach have to listen to the drone of multiple motorbikes - not that I’ve been there since.

But I babble as I am prone to before breakfast. I discovered the tiny mangrove crabs on the shores of tidal creeks at Port Gawler as a kid. The actual beach itself is now part of the Adelaide International Bird Sanctuary (which is up and down the entire north coast of the gulf) so some of it has been saved.

But I don’t have any pictures of Port Gawler, so why am I babbling about it? The pictures above are from a deserted ghost of a port called Port Arthur at the very top of the gulf on the Yorke Peninsula. It is an artificial break in the mangroves that is slowly healing. We stop there for photos and for the kids, because when the tide is out you can walk for miles and the sand is squishy and fun. and full of crabs and wildlife.

The reason I posted this? Cos we was talking about the little mangrove crabs that pepper the mangroves with tiny holes. I remembered I had a photo of one from Port Arthur. We found it digging in the sand/mud.

Then I found a photo of a baby mangrove tree.

Then another slightly blurry photo of a willy wagtail which would likely be related to the NZ fantail and although I have better photos of this quite common bird, this one was in a mangrove swamp, so much more applicable to the discussion :D

Also, Bri and I discovered that apparently our mangroves are the same type - Grey Mangroves. SA has two species, NZ one of them. :D So yay, we share stuff :D

And yeah, I should go get that drink, and possibly food, and really stop babbling all over my blog :D

Nutty

(sense is not a requirement)

#mangroves #south australia #grey mangroves #st vincents gulf #adelaide #WorldWindows2020

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charlesandmartine · 6 years ago

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Thursday 28th February 2019

The train rattled and shook all night as we creaked our way further and further away from Sydney. Somehow nonetheless we slept soundly until the harsh Australian dulcets suddenly aroused us from slumber at 5.20am instructing us to be ready by 6am for our excursion. No amount of slovenly behaviour would be tolerated! Had we been more alert, we could have had greater sympathy for those in our number who were not booked on a trip. We were all treated equally and all received the tannoy. One, however, complained to me that he received more than equal treatment. The staff burst in on him and sang happy birthday and presented him with morning tea. Unfortunately, no fault of his, he shared the same surname as one further down the corridor whose birthday it actually was. He wasn't even going on the trip, still in years to come he might laugh about it, once the trauma had subsided.

We alighted at the platform for Broken Hill, a very individual place. A man in 1885 standing on his land, noticed shiny bits in a lump of rock. By 1889 mining started on that very spot amidst some of the largest quantities of lead, zinc and silver on the planet. Mining continues to this day although due to mechanisation by no means anywhere near the same workforce being required. The raison d'etre for Broken Hill is mining and although the city is desperately trying to encourage tourism, the city of nearly 20,000 population would die without the mines. Our trip took us to the mining union building and we had an enactment of a union meeting in 1919 at which a strike was called resulting in 18mths of no work whilst issues of pay, safety and compensation could be resolved. The miners and their wives showed true solidarity and finally won the consessions they sought. The city has had a proud history of democracy, however in a recent referendum. The good people of Broken Hill were asked if they would like a new water supply to be brought to them from the Murray River, 90% voted No. So the government paid 500 million dollars to have it installed anyway. Goodness knows why they didn't want it. The water out of the taps is supposed to be foul and undrinkable, there being more fluoride in it than in a swimming pool. They need to do something, apparently they have had virtually no rain in the last 3 years.

The train resumed its journey towards Adelaide where some of our number will alight and make their own way in other directions. The rest of us will set off on our second excursion of the day. In the mean time we experienced a full breakfast of bacon, sausage, beans, eggs and spinach. Did you say spinach? We are now in virtual desert, red and yellow soil, Bush Country with the occasional lazy kangaroo keeping as cool as possible in any available shade, their heads and ears just visible. Breakfast will almost merge with a 2 course lunch which has to be early to enable our tour to the Barossa wine fields. Not a lot of fun this hospitality I can tell you.

A few points about this train of ours. I have mentioned that it is 31 coaches in all. That makes it 736m in length. The train divides into carriage groups. One group has 4 coaches comprising 2 sleepers with nine 2 man compartments, one lounge and bar, and one dining coach. Then repeat this till you use the 31 coaches. There is one luggage coach to be accounted for. A very long train, but not a massive number of people; about 200 in all. Average speed is 85km/hr and the journey will use 58,000 litres of fuel.

The train stopped again at Two Wells, just outside Adelaide to release those of us bound for Barossa. Not sure why it is called Two Wells. Coaches were waiting for us in the 37 degree heat, waves of heat radiating off the roof and off we sped to the first winery of the day, Seppeltsfield Wines, founded in 1851 by Joseph Seppelt. We were taken directly to a dining area where places were set out for each of us with a Barossa Vermentino white, a Barossa Grenache, Barossa Shiraz and a Para Grand Tawny Port. Each wine was accompanied by canapés designed to compliment the wine. After brief introductions to the fare, on the word go, we woofed it all down in a sophisticated sort of way showing knowledge and appreciation without looking like we were about to order a crate of the stuff. The port was very good, and should you have more money than sense, you can buy a bottle laid down on the year of your birth. They have stock going back every year to 1878. Clearly they are having difficulty shifting it. Lovely setting for a winery, and the grounds and buildings do them credit.

Our next stop was the Yalumba Winery, where we were to be fed a sumptuous evening meal washed down with adequate supplies of their own products in their Signature Cellar. This is a place where kegs of their very best plonk are held. Very nice too, and this was followed by a tour of the coopering shop where the art of barrel making was explained.

After all this excitement, we piled back onto the coach and some 60 60yr olds with red noses from all the wine, sleepily made their way back to Adelaide to rejoin the train. Plodding along the platform to find carriage M seemed a very long way.

No bar tonight, straight to bed in our tiny bunk beds. Fantastic busy day out and plenty to peruse. Good news is that the

Clocks go back 1.5 hrs to Japan time so more time in bed. Result.

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portadelaideplaza · 3 months ago

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Delightful Breakfast in Port Adelaide plaza

Start your day with Breakfast in Port Adelaide plaza which offers mouthwatering seasonal specials, freshly made wraps , or roll to go with your own remote options either gluten free, dairy free or vegan. For more info visit us.

#breakfast #breakfast in adelaide #breakfast in port adelaide plaza #port adelaide #australia #south australia

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rentcampervan · 2 years ago

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All That You Can Do in Three Days in Adelaide

Three days in Adelaide is a good long time. With your campervan rental Adelaide, you can make the most of the trip. Of course, there is always something that you might not be able to see while traveling. However, with a three-day trip you would have covered most of the places in the town. We have curated a three-day itinerary on all things that you cannot miss while in the city. So, ready to take off with our plan? Pre-requisites for the Trip We would suggest you plan your accommodation before going ahead with the trip. There are several budget places in the town, and you might find a hotel, hostel or homestay that best fits your requirements. Second make sure you visit the city during the season when it will play out cool. You can visit sometime between November and March, when the skies are blue and the beaches are open. If you have already got the motorhome hire Adelaide, you may not have much of a travel issue internally. It will also save you a lot of bucks. First day in the city After checking into your accommodation and getting started with the day, you can begin the tour of the land. Take the first day as light as possible with a trip of the CBD. There you can go to the Botanic garden if you love indulging in plant species. This also houses a mini tropical forest that definitely is a touristy spot. After your little tour of the garden, you can walk into the South Australian Museum nearby followed by a trip to the National Wine Centre. End the day with a trip to the central market with the walk along art trail. Day two in the city You can pace up your day two and engage in some activities. You can go to one or more beaches in the city, and spend your mornings and afternoons. If you have come during the beautiful blue sky time, it would be hard to avoid the beaches. Ensure you take the campervan rental Adelaide to avoid public transport. Glenelg Beach is the most sought after one, where you can go and soak yourself under the sun. you can also try the west beach, which is also another touristry spot in the city. After lunch and some more soaking in, you can visit the Port Adelaide. Keep the pace of day two high, as you are well rested and would move back to the accommodation. The port hosts several historical places such as the Railway Museum, and Aviation Museum. You can also go to the dolphin sanctuary here. Day three in the city You can have a good breakfast at one of the top spots in the city. The end of the trip should be as memorable as the start. So, you should take a trip to the Adelaide hills on the third day. You can take one of the many tours in this place. For example, you can go for the handorf hideaway tour that starts from Adelaide. You can also go wine and cheese tasting. End the day with a nice lunch, and you can take your motorhome hire Adelaide back home.

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danielaxsblog · 1 year ago

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Breakfast Hotspots In Port Adelaide

Port Adelaide Plaza offers a range of shops and services for everyday needs with Coles, Kmart and Aldi, and including finance, health & beauty, child care, speciality stores PLUS over 12 cafes & restaurants. We Provide 900 free on grade car parks, including 250 undercover spaces and direct access to public transport, including taxi ranks, nearby bus stops, and only 100 metres to the Port Adelaide train station.

Please get more information about breakfast in port adelaide

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rhiannecolston-blog · 7 years ago

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Character Questionnaire

BASIC INFORMATION

Full Name: Rhianne (Rhi) Alisah Colston Pronunciation: Ree-ann (Ree) A-lees-ah Cole-ston Meaning: nymph, goddess, young maid // “great happiness” // "swarthy person" or "coal town" Reasoning: They liked the meanings Nickname(s): Rhi Preferred Name(s): Rhi or Rhianne Birth Date: January 11th, 1991 Age: 27 Zodiac: Capricorn Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Romantic Orientation: Heteroromantic Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual Nationality: Australian Ethnicity: Australian Current Location: The Island Living Conditions: Fair but could be better Title(s): Princess of Australia

BACKGROUND

Birth Place: Port Adelaide, Australia Hometown: Adelaide, Australia Social Class: High Class, royalty Education Level: High School Diploma + college classes Father: Arthur Colston Mother: Evelyn Colston Adopted?: No Sibling(s): Two brothers, one sister, one deceased brother Birth Order: Second eldest child, eldest daughter Children: None Pet(s): A Scottish Fold cat named Kimba Other Important Relatives: N/A Previous Relationships: Declan Diallo, Short flings

SKILLS & ABILITIES

Physical Strength: Average strength, enough to surf and swim Teamwork: Fair Talents: Swimming, surfing, dancing, yoga, self defense, and etiquette Shortcomings: Letting things go, sailing, and getting up early Language(s) Spoken: English, ASL, French, and some Greek Drive?: Yes Ride a Bicycle?: Yes Swim?: Extremely well Play an Instrument?: Some piano Play Chess?: Yes but often loses Pick a Lock?: Yes

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

Face Claim: Riley Voelkel Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Blonde Hair Type/Style: Shoulder length, usually wavy Dominant Hand: Right Height: 5′9″ Weight: 123 lb Exercise Habits: Swimming, yoga Skin Tone: Caucasian, tan from being out in the sun Tattoos: 2- water color wave on her right hip, minimalist rose on her left front shoulder Piercings: Ears- Lobes in both, upper lobes in both, cartilage in left ear, daith in left ear Marks/Scars: Freckles, small beauty mark next to left eye, scar on arm from sword fighting Notable Features: Dimples, bright eyes Usual Expression: X Clothing Style: Comfortable yet girly, form fitting X X X X X X Jewelry: Necklace (always), Choker (sometimes), Ring (always), Earrings (always) Allergies: Seasonal Body Temperature: Normal Diet: Usually healthy but normal Physical Ailments: None

PSYCHOLOGY

MBTI Type: ENFJ-T: Tolerant, Reliable, Charismatic, Altruistic, Natural Leaders Enneagram Type: The Helper Moral Alignment: Neutral Good Temperament: Sanguine Element: Air Primary Intelligence Type: Interpersonal Approximate IQ: 125 Mental Conditions/Disorders: Slight ocd Sociability: Sociable Emotional Stability: Fair Obsession(s): Swimming, shopping, chocolate Compulsion(s): Tidiness Phobia(s): None Addiction(s): None Prone to Violence?: Sometimes

MANNERISMS

Speech Style: Usually polite or sarcastic. Proper when around royal adults Accent: Australian Quirks: Lip biting, tidiness Hobbies: Swimming, yoga, reading Habits: Lip biting, straightening clothes/tags Nervous Tics: Bouncy leg, lip biting, playing with hair Drives/Motivations: Her people, her family Fears: Losing someone she loves while powerless Positive Traits: Compassionate, loving, protective Negative Traits: Stubborn, curious, reactive Sense of Humor: Sarcastic, slightly dark Do They Curse Often?: Yes

FAVORITES

Activity: Swimming Animal: Penguin, cats Beverage: Alcoholic- hard lemonade, wine. Non- tea, lemonade, water Book: Harry Potter, Alice in Wonderland, Howl’s Moving Castle Color: Maroon Food: Chinese / Caesar salad Flower: Dahlias Gem: Garnet Holiday: Halloween Mode of Transportation: Car Movie: Pitch Perfect, The Breakfast Club, Beetlejuice, TNBC, Deadpool Musical Artist: Green Day, Halestorm, Linkin Park Quote/Saying: "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live" - Albus Dumbledore Scenery: Beach at sunset Scent: The ocean Sport: Swimming Television Show: iZombie, Archer, Jessica Jones, Criminal Minds, Timeless Weather: Sunny/cool

ATTITUDES

Greatest Dream: To make a comfortable life for all Australians and animals Greatest Fear: Being alone, being tortured Most at Ease When: In water or in bed Least at Ease When: Alone, it storms Worst Possible Thing That Could Happen: She loses everyone she loves Biggest Achievement: Opening a new animal shelter that is funded entirely by donations Biggest Regret: Not seeing what Garrett was planning, not going to college Most Embarrassing Moment: Stepping on her dress at a ball and completely ripping the skirt off Biggest Secret: She broke her fathers throne when she was 12 and never admitted it Top Priorities:Her family, animal rights, pleasure, getting off the damn island

@crown-prince-declan-diallo

#trident;task #about #declan #mention

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chrysaliseuro2018 · 7 years ago

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Noting Marzamemi

Easy and slow start in Syracuse. Georgio our cheerful and friendly host had said there was no rush for us to leave and we could have held on to the apartment for a bit longer into the day but time to move on.

We went virtually next door for breakfast and shared a couple of pastries ( there were only 4 on offer) in a tiny little cafe though there were seats outside but it had rained that morning so we just sat inside. Friendly lady running the joint.

We had arranged to meet Georgio at 11.30 and he duly rolled up we handed over the keys and were on our way. Apartment was a bit dark but a good size and we enjoyed it. Position excellent and free parking which saved 10 euros a night. Georgio a delight to meet too.

Our destination was Noto which we had not been able to get to 4 years before due to a shortage of time. It was really one of the must sees for this trip whereas Catania and Syracuse were slight afterthoughts at least for me though had proved to be very rewarding.

Only a 40 minute drive from Syracuse so we arrived about 1.00 found a park fairly easily in a side street at the top of town and went exploring. Noto is famed for having one of the most beautiful historic centres in Sicily particularly around the Walkway Vittorio Emmanuelle filled with baroque churches and palaces.

We quickly found it but were keen for lunch. A quick explore found that with a fair few tourists the decent lunch places were full so we settled on fresh takeaway rolls made before us in a little deli cafe. Liz’s favourite of tomato and mozzarella (tomatoes are the real McCoy here fresh as a daisy and red red not cool room orangey red). Salami, cheese and some spicy veggies in oil for me - excellent. We sat at a bench and downed them with a soft drink.

Now for town and the sights. Most of the sights seemed to be closed for visitors and we wondered if that was because it was Monday. Anyway we trooped along Corso Vittorio Emmanuelle and there were certainly some grand churches and buildings generally. However as we made our way along we both came to the same conclusion. We were whelmed by it but not overwhelmed. It felt almost a bit clinical, too clean. Lines of buildings a too symmetrical. It was “nice” but it wasn’t setting the pulse racing. We walked the length of the street and on through the gardens at the end which were nothing too special though the various little cafes and so on which might spark up at night were closed.

It wasn’t too hard to decide that we should keep going which was a shock to the system given this was our Number 1 destination for this trip. It may just have been a reelection of the resplendent architecture we had seen already particularly in Catania.

Anyway we pressed on and the next stop was within 30 mins - Marzamemi. This little fishing village had been recommended to us by Adelaide our B&B hostess in Catania. We immediately fell in love with it. Pretty small, fronting on to the sea. It seemed as if heavy rains had been through as one end of town which was where the port was had a street virtually submerged in water. We followed a couple of other cars through and not too deep. This turned out to be the quiet end of town at least from a tourist viewpoint.

We headed the other way to find a livelier (though on a small scale) centre. Quite a few restaurants and a small shopping area. We identified a little hotel on the main street parked up and they offered us a room for 50 euros. Great price and quite low for this time of year. However it was gone 4.00pm and perhaps they had a few vacancies.

Room was fine though was right on the front st so a bit noisy later we found. Still 50 euros a bargain. Having dumped the cases I set off to the nearby car park to park the car which was 10 euros overnight a bit of a shame but whatever. Street parking apparently not an option.

We set off to explore. First thing we noticed was the strong fishy smell. There used to be a tuna factory here which has now gone but they still process fish here in some way or other. We could see trays of what looked like salted fish. Next door to the processing centre was a sort of artisan food store. In a small warehouse set up with jars of everything from anchovies, jam to veggies in oil, cheese, biscuits, local wine and beers and much more. It was one of two outlets in town with the Italian tourists keen acquirers of these tasty tidbits it seemed.

We pressed on and a couple of very upmarket stores in town. One being O bags selling very stylish beach and fashion bags. We nearly bought a beach bag in Noto from the same store but a bit lumpy price wise and we are already running pretty close to our weight limits for next flight on Ryanair to London. I’ll pine for it though. The second shop (LAO) had very stylish jewellery, some dresses and watches as well as various house ornaments. Liz talked me into a watch which didn’t take much doing and shouldn’t trouble the weight constraints of Ryanair. Went back the following day and bought a second strap of different colour for it so two watches in one though inched marginally as a result towards the weight limits.

We continued on just looking at the various little shops and cafes. A lovely moment was on a small inland lake behind the main shopping area where there was a flock of flamingoes fossicking in the shallow water for whatever flamingoes eat. They were doing this by rapidly moving their legs back and fwd in the mud presumably to disturb bugs etc and then sticking their beaks in. In the late afternoon sun it really was a pretty sight.

After a quick change we headed for the lovely little city square. Old and quaint with sort of faded sandstone brick facades. One new building in one corner which had obviously slipped through the town planner’s net but it didn’t spoil the overall effect.

We found a bar/cafe in one corner and settled down for a beer and Aperol. Excellent local artisan beer for me. We people watched and chilled and pinched ourselves yet again. Thanks for the recommendation Adelaide most unlikely we would not have got here otherwise. We were so taken that I quickly nipped back and booked a second night at the hotel.

The restaurant next door looked good with tables and chairs outside so we booked for 8.00pm which was the earliest option. At 7.45 there was not a soul there (we have noticed the Italians like to eat quite late) though clearly they weren’t taking earlier bookings. One reason may have been that at 7.45 what looked like the effluent disposal truck rolled up, unleashed tubing which disappeared into the restaurant, cleared whatever it cleared and headed off by 7.55 ready for the first intake (or is that input) at 8.00. We had a birds eye view of all this form our seat next door.

We were a bit concerned that it might be a bit cool as a degree or two cooler than preferred but slipped a cardy on and Liz her leather jacket and all was good. By 8.30 the place was pretty full and buzzing with a few more tables being put out at the front for latecomers. Dinner was good I had some small red fish(name eludes) and Liz also can’t remember what she had a pasta from memory. The ambience obviously overcame us. A little walk around town at the end of the night and then we retired very happy with our choice.

Next day we breakfasted on some pastries at a little cafe next door. A croissant which was sort of permeated with jam and a pastry with fruit running through. Both yum. Liz was keen to get the beach so we headed for the car and drove out of town to a nearby beach. There was a little cafe bar and beach chairs for hire so Liz settled in. Sunny but a bit blowy. I fancied a drive so headed off along the beach road but not before setting up Narelle on maps fairly carefully. Without my trusty navigator I would have had to find my own way back.

The road runs virtually right beside the beach in the area so I headed west just taking in the scenery which in truth was nothing spectacular though a couple of lovely beach spots. I drove as far as Marina di Modica and on the way found where the car ferry goes to Malta. We could have come that way to Sicily possibly though they tend not to be any cheaper than flights and we didn’t want to take a car from Malta and leave it in Sicily with the added cost of that. I stopped at a pretty little place by the beach near MdM for an Arancini and soft drink and then headed back. All up probably had been a couple of hours with the stop. About 5/6 mins in received a call from Liz, the wind had become pretty strong and she was ready to head back. I put the foot down as I was still about 20 mins away, picked her up and we headed back to Marzamami.

A repeat of the previous day really. Went for a late afternoon stroll after showers. Bought my additional watch strap. Took photos. Soaked it all up. Forked out another 10 euros for the car park and then returned to the same little cafe bar for pre dinner drinks though this time we also had dinner there. This was followed by gelato from one of the little food stores/cafes.

Just a lovely little place Marzamemi. Off the beaten track. Quaint. Most enjoyable.

Next day proved a little trickier at settlement time. Liz headed downstairs to pay only to be confronted by a cost of 80 euros a night not the 50 we were advised. A protracted dispute ensued and clearly the young lady who had advised us either got it wrong, acted on a whim, exceeded her authority, was being mischievous or just decided to cut a deal on a slow day. We will never know. She was nowhere to be seen. It appeared that she was someone of authority as the receptionist at arrival time asked her what the price should be. Neither that receptionist nor the young lady were around.

They indicated that 50 euros was the price for a single and it clearly was as they showed Liz the books. However it was also clear at the time of booking that the two of us were going into the room as we were standing side by side. We also remembered the confirmation of price even the manner with which it was delivered - a slight twitch of the head. Liz was about to concede or suggest 50/50 when with a shrug of the shoulders the receptionist accepted the lower price and we headed off.

Left a bit of a nasty taste in the mouth not through our own doing and we wondered if the truth came out after we left or there were denials all round. Another little mental note get the confirmation in writing or reiterate the price clearly so there is no doubt. I kicked myself also for not reconfirming the price when I booked the second night rather than just assuming it would be the same. At least the issue might have come out earlier. Also, who knows, we might have checked other hotels for prices if the 80 was advised in the first place though probably unlikely. Anyway all part of the experience.

Still a great stop and thoroughly recommend Marzamemi. On to Modica.

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whatdoesshedotothem · 3 years ago

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Thursday 10 August 1837

7 ¾

11 55

I wrote A- copy of what her aunt should write

A-‘s pony being galled with the girth and unable to bear the saddle, A- and I set off to walk to Cliff hill (George to follow by and by with the other pony and walk back himself) at 2 ¾ - walked with her to beyond Hardcastle’s (Roydelands) and left her there at 3 23 walked leisurely back – stopt some while at Hipperholme quarry in returning – and a little while at the Listerwick engine pit and wheel-race – the pentrough put up – the head wheelwright promised that all should be ready for Joseph Manns’ going on with the engine pit the end of the next month – 19

August instead of 1 June!!! – home about 4 ½ - with Mr. Gray planning about the glacis on the east side of farmyard and house – then with Sam Booth and Jack Green planting out 2 fine young Ragland oaks on the back road embankment near the back Lodge – then at the Lodge with Mr. Gray and Mawson planning about Lodge-stuff moving at 9d. per yard – about 80 yards will be done when the mass agreed for was [cleared] off – ordered another mass down = about 180 yards at 9d. 180+80 = 260 at 9d. = £13.10.0 – spoke to Zebedee at noon today about taking Franks’ place in going to the post – he said he was no scholar – he would rather go with horses – I said I should have no regular going with horses – but he had best consider whether he would like to stay or not the greatest inconvenience to me would be his not living nearer than Hx- Hinton came at 7 to ask for carts at Northgate and if I wanted the stone that came out of the drains he was going to make – the stone by custom his – no! in that case quite satisfied but did not want it – referred him to Blythe for carts – came in at 7 10 –

A- wanted me her aunt had written the letter and A- had written copy of letter to Mr. Gray I wrote her another shorter letter for herself which she copied and sent –

Dinner at 7 25 A-‘s Travellers Inn tenant Holt came to ask her if she had a field to let – she had one, but had somebody else in view for it, but would not forget his application – coffee at 9 – read the paper – A- came upstairs before 10 and about or soon after 10 at which hour F57° very fine day – had just written so far of today at 10 40 pm

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