Particularly if you're me, so that's handy for me.
After all, a great breakfast at one of my favourite cafes (Retro), Salamanca Place outside the window (later, I notice a delightful breughelian hand in that phoneshot - and those things on pogo sticks? Soul eaters), and plus, I am still in that not-since-Malcolm Fraser-cried afterglow and even the wicked Australian is happy to reinforce my desire to read about where it all went so freakin' right.
