It’s a holiday town where Sydney-siders go to escape, which you can only do if you’ve got cash. There was only the beach, the fisherman’s club and our restaurant. Our role was to service the holiday industry rather than to participate. Toni Collette name-dropped to get a table but we turned her away. The landlord lived next door, she owned all the garbage trucks in the region.

Despite all of this, it was a time of young first love, camaraderie (of being in this shit together), and warmth – both of summer and friends.

SCENT

Dill! Sun, creamy mayo, blokey-ness, hint of bleach, sea air, small wafts of garbage.

By

Boni Cairncross