And so they were...late, that is. We sat in front of the hotel, watching bus after bus come empty and leave filled with smiling passengers. I think there must be some code of ethics referred to by all tourbus drivers, whereby anyone with the name Henley must be picked up dead last on pain of death (ok, maybe just a hefty fine). Our bald but bountifully mustachioed driver did finally appear, and we groggily climbed into the bus. Staying up late at the observatory last night suddenly seemed like a really dumb idea and we fought for sleep on the two and a half hour ride out to Hunter Valley. It was hard to appreciate how beautiful the country was because the bright green fields and acres of vines were muted into a dull gray by a seemingly permanent covering of clouds. That's kind of been a theme of our time in Sydney so far; there's no doubt in my mind that it's a stupendously beautiful place, but I just can't appreciate it to the full when the sky makes me feel like sleeping 24/7. On the plus side we stayed dry for most of the day, and the sun even made a brief appearance towards the end. There were 12 of us on the bus I think, and we stopped at four different wineries, a cheese shop, and a chocolate shop. Our first tasting was at 10am so we got a nice early start! Most of the wineries were small "boutique" vintners (I hate that term; it basically just means small. And what's the deal with everything having to be called premium or ultra super premium now?) but one of them was a larger commercial producer. You could definitely tell there was a difference, and the tasting -and wines- was probably the least enjoyable of the bunch. I wasn't ever totally blown away by something, which was probably asking a bit much, and I spent most of the day nodding to Brittany in a "not bad, I wouldn't turn it down" kinda way. When something did stand out to me I'd buy a bottle, and I think I wound up with 8 at the end of the day sooooo...maybe I liked them more than I remember! The setting couldn't be beat though, so the wine itself wasn't nearly as important as you'd expect. The Smelly Cheese shop was an especially memorable stop because the old lady that led the tasting was super spunky and had us all laughing in no time. They were selling some really neat cheese boards that I came close to getting, but I wasn't sure they'd fit in the suitcase. Add that to the list of things I need to make myself! In lieu of a board I bought some cheese spreads. It's a really good thing that we're checking bags this time around because they'll be full to bursting with wine, cheese, olive oils, jams, and other assorted calorie bombs :) As beautiful as it all was I couldn't help but think that I might as well be in California or Oregon because nothing stood out to say, "hey, you're in AUSTRALIA." At least that was the case until we turned a corner and saw herds of kangaroo (is that a thing? a kangaroo herd?) hopping through the valley and among the vines. That thirty seconds was probably the highlight of the day and made us remember just how far from home we really are. There's still something hypnotic about watching a kangaroo hop at speed. I've never seen anything like it! The closest I've come was at Busch Gardens where they don't seem to do much but lay under trees and (adorably) scratch their furry butts. By the time we'd finally made all our rounds and headed back to Sydney we were so tired it was hard just to buckle in. Driven by my undeniable genius, I had already arranged to see a movie that would start about half an hour after we got back into the city, meaning we'd have absolutely zero downtime. It had somehow never occurred to me that getting up super early and going to bed super late should not be done back-to-back-to-back. Then, just when we'd finally accepted that we were going to gut out the movie (tickets were nonrefundable) and were actually looking forward to it, I got an email telling us it was cancelled because of "adverse weather". It had sounded like a really neat "local" kinda thing to do. They set up a huge movie screen outside with a view of the city and you sit in bean bag chairs on a grassy field while waiters bring you milk duds and popcorn. I'm a little disappointed we didn't get to experience it, but going back to the hotel instead of rushing out to the next thing was probably the best thing for us. As we lazily flipped though Google restaurant recommendations while attempting to become one with our silky soft bed, we gave in to the inevitable and picked up the room service menu. I love traveling here because everything is included in the prices you see. There's no "add 18% service charge, then add tax, then add gratuity, the add some more just because we can" mumbo jumbo. You see the price? That's what you pay. Done. I love it! The attendant actually set up an entire table for us in the room, fine china and all. I couldn't help but splurge on some Sydney Rock Oysters, and oh man were they good! Japan is still tops in the edible sea-dwelling booger category but these were a REALLY close second. They're totally different from the gritty swallow-it-quickly-so-you-don't-have-to -taste-it oysters we get at home. They have a delicious, creamy texture that completely fills your mouth (in a good way, kind of like goat cheese) and even Brittany thought they were better than usual. A bag of Haribo gummy bears from the minibar closed out the night, and I'm sitting on our balcony as yet another wedding party shimmies into alcohol-induced oblivion. I kid you not we've seen at least twenty brides so far! We're right on the harbor and this is apparently THE place to get your pictures taken. It's been kind of fun professionally rating the dresses as they parade by, but I can't imagine how much it would cost to throw a party here. I imagine the bride-to-be's father nervously asking, "and, ahem, how much will it cost?" only to be told, "your next ten years' income and a dearly beloved body part. Left or right, we don't mind which." Only one full day left and we'll be back on a long-haul flight to the States. As much as we love it here I think we're both feeling ready to go home; three weeks away from the congregation feels like an eternity, and it'll be good to be back.