Day 70. 118,823 words. Nope, didn’t make the 70 day “deadline” – but I’m close!

As yesterday’s entry might have led you to suspect, today – Sunday, the 13^th of January – was finally the last day of our epic journey to Western Australia. It was fun, and I thoroughly recommend the place despite all my complaining.

There was a final series of side-quests today, as I finally got word from Perth Highland Pipe Band that I could go and look for a kilt from their old inventory. I did so, and caught up with my old buddy Dave “Reclining” Johnston at the same time. There was a grand total of one kilt that came close to fitting me, so I took it. For a smooth $55, it was an absolute steal and required only slight tailoring once I got home. Reclining also threw in a sporran for $25. Fucking brilliant.

So, I am once again dressed for the occasion and ready to bagpipe in style. The Perth Highland tartan and kilt is the only one I would ever consider wearing.

Finally, just before flying out at dear old intimately-familiar Perth International airport, I treated the family to a feast from Red Rooster, a favourite fast food restaurant available only in Australia. Forget your KFC and Popeye’s, get out of here Chicken Treat and Foghorn’s. Red Rooster is the king.

Anyway, I bought a wide assortment of dishes (I’m afraid Red Rooster’s amazing cheesy chicken nuggets are going to leave Wump and Toop craving), and we sat down at the dinner table like real honest-to-goodness people and ate it. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever eaten Red Rooster somewhere other than in front of the TV or sitting in a car on the way to or from the Australian Southwest. And it was glorious. Anyway, the real reason for the feast was an early celebration of my brother’s up-coming 50^th birthday, which the Hatboy family would sadly be unable to attend.

And so we flew out at midnight, and by some point the next day were semi-conscious (at best) in Hong Kong. And then, at some point after that, dazed and confused on a Sunday afternoon in Helsinki. And yes, this is Toop passed out face-down on the airport floor.

I’ve cropped out Mrs. Hatboy, who is passed out right next to her in the brown jacket, kneeling on the floor and slumped on a seat. In her defence, she was airsick and I found some “medicine” for her at a Hong Kong airport chemist, and the instructions were not in English and the tablets wiped her out. Helped the airsickness, though.

And then, back to work Monday morning.

And here we are.