My father taught me to drive in our old brown 1984 Commodore which was without the benefit of power steering.
I remember once taking a corner rather sharply while on a practice drive with Dad. He still claims to see the look of horror on a fellow driver’s face as I tried to control the brown rank on the Great Western Highway.
My father claims my driving has actually regressed since living overseas, yet he sometimes has no choice.
While home recently I took my father on a day trip to Robertson on the South Coast of NSW. Well Dad actually wanted to visit nearby Bowral, but I heard the cheese was better in Roberston.
Which was true.
Our first stop was the Roberston Cheese Factory where I picked up an excellent chilli cheddar which wound up traveling back to Doha with me. The climate and lush fields around this area are perfect for dairy farming.
We stopped for lunch at the hipster meets retro Rockabellas cafe where Dad was coerced into a burger and I had the pumpkin and feta enchiladas.
I did enjoy the man-bunned waiter trash talking my Dad for ordering a soy decaf cappuccino (I am adopted).
“It’s dairy flavored bean water Dude,” he told my Dad.
The man-bun had a point.
I picked up this amazing chilli flavored cheddar while on the trip. With two kinds of bite – from the cheddar and the chilli, I may have changed my view on non traditional cheese.
Dad exacted revenge on me for comandeering his drive by instructing me to take the “scenic” route back to Sydney. By “scenic” please read “terrifying hair pin turn and steep descents”.
He always wins.
