Wed 26 April. The road north shot out of Sydney like a red corpuscle in the artery of life. Bang, glimpses of the vast tracts of the Haawksbury inlet. Roads carved from mountain ridges, sheer rock on either side. There's always next time. View from yacht would be best. Down into Gosford and Terrigal, where a massive Crown Hotel sits in a suburb. Sat there and read Patrick O'Brian's "Far Side of the World" in the most salubrious of surroundings. Downstairs the two-up square waas hot with betting. One tall guy, shaved head, kept banging it with a $50 note and shouting, 'Fifty, heads, fifty, heads.' Everyone looked happy. I didn't spruik on Anzac Day, required a rest and the hassle wouldn't have been worth it. Terrigal's beaches were beautiful in an unending series of awe-inspiring.
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