After a 5 minute lesson - and with a board undoubtedly too short and light for me - we took to the waves for my first attempt at surfing. I spent the rest of the weekend being beaten up by the tides as well as Helena's surf leash that ripped down my arm when one of the largest waves of the day snuck up on us while faffing with a GoPro. I was enjoying myself nonetheless.

To wrap up the first day of surfing attempts Helena and housemate Leila made a hachis parmentier - the french equivalent of shepherd's pie "but better". You can't give the same thing a French name and suddenly it's better I thought to myself... but it might have been. Outside of the growing bruise under my arm it was an easygoing trade on all accounts to wrap up my time in Australia.

Special mention goes to chancing into Anzac day, the Australian equivalent of remembrance day. Until about 10am that is, then the tradition switches into crowds gambling day long on the most intense games of heads or tails I've ever seen as, for lack of a better word, 'arenas' spring up around all over the city.