40 degrees outside. I’m going inside for one of the famous Oak milkshakes we used to stop here for many years ago on the way to holidays in Forster. I’m disappointed I missed the turnoff to Forster on the way here. Well, if they’re not going to signpost it properly, it might be another 20 years before I get there.
It seems our beloved Oak isn’t living here any more. The factory still seems to be here, but the local Hungry Jacks has taken over the franchise, and the famous milkshake menu is relegated to one tiny section of the dining menu. (If you’re visiting here, it’s tucked away on the top left. You have to squint to see it.)
It’s still a brilliant shake, though; exactly as I remember it. I wish I knew the secret.
I’m running about half an hour later than I expected, which isn’t bad for an 800K trip.
A marketing operations expert by day, muso/journo/geekdad by night, who just wants robots and humans to get along
BONWAG 