In the past year there have been very few opportunities to get away. Between my work and lockdowns, long weekends are a rarity. However, way back in February, we managed to find a chunk of time and drive further than Adelaide city limits for a little holiday.
I fell asleep as soon as we hit the freeway, heading east out of Adelaide. Having just finished a run of night shifts I was overdue for sleep and so missed most of the drive. Meningie wasn’t our holiday destination, but merely en route to Robe, where we were meeting some friends for a long weekend. I woke up as we drove up to the main street of Meningie, famished and slightly sleep hungover. The town was thriving for a Thursday lunchtime, clearly a stopping point for many tourists.
Now, usually where tourists and their caravans are then bakeries closely follow – and I wasn’t disappointed. Just off the main stretch, set back less than 100 metres, was a bustling bakery. The queue stretched out the door, with many gathered around little tables, brown bags in their hands. Such a queue is usually a positive sign for the quality of baked goods to come, but how deceived we were.
The donut was terrible. Perhaps, it was one leftover from the day, or week, before but I don’t think I would waste my money trying to figure out if it was just a bad batch. However, the seagulls didn’t seem to have as high of donut standard and I’m told, from a non-gull informant, that the finger bun wasn’t too bad.