Yesterday, having escaped from the stinking hot kitchen where making another 120 lamingtons had coated me in sticky sugar while sweat pooled inside my shoes, I drove up the river looking for a swimming hole.
As Jo and I walked from the road down through steep bush to the wide stony river bed it began to rain, all the afternoon's humidity suddenly falling in big heavy drops onto our towels and clothes. Those few degrees of coolness, and the dark cloud above weren't enough to keep us from the river though. After a couple of minutes of knee-deep squealing we dived in and let the swift current carry us along. We didn't linger but we didn't need to, refreshed and exhilarated we gathered our damp things and climbed back up towards the car, arriving just as the rain stopped, the sun emerged and the road began to steam.
My souvenir, unfortunately, is a blocked-up ear causing deafness and irritation, and stubbornly refusing to respond to all folk remedies and pharmaceutical solutions.