A volcano is not a mountain

I always feel so daring and brave when I teeter on the edge of a volcano.  No matter that it probably hasn't made a peep in the last 100,000 years, but you just never know do you!  Nobody else seemed particularly bothered way up there at North Head yesterday though.  Housewives lay around in the grass sipping ciders while their darlings ran riot around the gun emplacements and fired imaginary bullets at enemy ghost ships.
It was such a delicious afternoon!  Of course just as we thought that maybe we had explored enough to be entitled to a cream doughnut from Little and Friday, Ayana decided to crash out in the ergo and we were forced to keep walking!  So we headed in to Devonport for coffee and cake there instead (seriously don't rate the Stone Oven bakery anymore, agh!). 
Yesterday was a taste of what this summer has to offer and boy did it taste good!
xx