Having eaten like birds at breakfast time Chris and I were starving when we arrived at Manly, Sydney, at lunchtime (we are staying with my cousin David and Wendy at the Parramatta end of Sydney until Monday, when we will be bound for home in England). Firstly we headed to those “Golden Arches” for a couple of sixty cent ice creams and a dollar frozen pineapple and lime drink, then we went to the fish and chip shop next door for a substantial lunch of two fish and one portion of chips; we had been enticed by the sign outside that said, “You won’t be disappointed!”.

“Is your fish really nice?” I asked the man at the counter.

He smiled and assured me that they were the best in town (like the ugly duckling). Upon going outside to find a table for two we noticed a most disappointed seagull on one of the tables – the table was bereft of anything to eat.

I think the man who served us had taken a shine to me, or he thought I was from the Trade Description Board (if there is still such a place) because six small, but delicious-looking, golden battered cod pieces accompanied by twenty or so crispy brown chips were brought out to our table. Needless to say we didn’t manage to eat them all but, even after feeding the seagull with the broken leg and the hopeful face, the remaining “far from disappointing” left-over pieces were brought back with us.

After wandering through the town, going to the shops and nipping back to the car park twice Chris and I went to the beautiful beach at Manly to sunbathe. Funnily enough, before long Chris and I were feeling peckish again. Luckily I had in my big beach-bag some “Twisties”, the cheesy Australian snack of choice. I put the “Twisties” between us on the towels so that we could reach down and dip in every now and then. My second Twisty was in my hand at head level, and I was just about to pop it into my mouth when the crispy tasty morsel was stolen from me – even Chris turned around because some sand flew into his face.

“Hey!” I thought, believing it to be a horrid child behind us but when I turned around it was a seagull. He turned away as if to pretend it wasn’t him but when I held another Twisty out in my other hand all pretence had disappeared. There were a few titters (not twitters) on the beach as sunbathers raised their tired heads and laughed (or raised their eyebrows). My audacious seagull fought the flock that followed into his territory and suddenly lunch was over… He squawked and stamped his feet.

“He’s in a bit of a twist,” said Chris.

Chris always manages to say the right thing.