beaumaris

It may come as a surprise to you to learn that I'm rarely stuck for words. But this morning at Kicko, I couldn't make them go. I couldn't find any words. To be frank, I spent most of the meal blinking at my children, wondering why they couldn't be more like the breakfast I was eating.

For my first breakfast judgement, I headed to malt cafe in Beaumaris. I had been on my way to somewhere in Elwood, but it's such a lovely morning here today that I felt I'd be better served near a beach that doesn't smell like rotting corpses.