Ceci n'est pas un pamplemousse

In two senses, both in the sense that Magritte meant and also in that it's also actually a fat lemon (interestingly, that was apparently the French for grapefruit until they adopted the Dutch word.)

TallGirl was our chosen guinea pig for the homegrown 'grapefruit', which she pronounced "quite sour".

Earlier, after a latish start and a short swim for the kids, off into town for lunch on the beach. The seafood is always fabulous here and, now CarbBoy eats eggs, he just has ham, egg and chips so we're all happy.

And, though we thought we'd never be able to eat again, we somehow found room for a steak dinner, before the Scrabble tournament recommenced and after eons, was finally done and we can get down to some serious farewelling of Mr B, who tomorrow has to quit his first holiday for a year to go and spend a day in Hong Kong.