To the Blockhouse

Noah and I fairly raced up from Rhodes Memorial to the blockhouse last Monday. And he is not even  five! He was upset that we could not go in to the ‘castle’ to see the treasure. There was no one around, only the bracing wind, and the views far out to sea, and the traffic down below.

I carried him for some of the way down, because I remembered how jelly like your legs feel when you are that age. I guess in a few years we will be going along the Pipe Track and up to Breakfast Rock, like I used to with my dad.


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