There would have been 200-300 people there already, and was suddenly joined by what seemed another 500 people that had followed the band marching from the city centre 20 minutes earlier.
The local rep from the RSL said his piece and introduced the local Pastor to remind us that we need to be remembering the soldiers and their families, not just the day and the memorial site.
Interestingly enough, he was less that 5 minutes into the spiel, when about a 1000 Corellas decided to fly in and roost in the trees above us. Judging by the noise they were making, I suspect they had heard the speech before and had no intention of shutting up to let the rest of us listen. The Pastor soldiered on though and eventually we got to the bugle playing. There is something about this tune when played live that sends a shiver down my spine and just lets out an amazing flood of emotion as we remember those poor soldiers and what they had to endure in their quest to provide us with the Australia as we know it today.
We finally got back to the Caravan Park and cooked up the last hot breakfast for a while, of sausages, bacon and eggs in the true Anzac spirit.
Then it was time to pack up and go home. I don't like this part for a multitude of reasons - firstly because it symbolises my holiday is over, and secondly because it means my entire afternoon revolves around unpacking and cleaning. According to Tracy, the latter is apparently a chore that needs to be borne by all parties in our family, so complaining about how tired I am and trying to sneak off to lie down, isn't a wise idea.
I did eventually get to lie down at 8:30, and was asleep at 8:35.
I blame it on the hay fever tablets and pain killers for my neck.... It definitely has nothing to do with my age and/or superior fitness levels.
Another holiday over.... Until next time.