And what do any normal people do here in oz on a long weekend - we go to a beach house somewhere.
Our somewhere was Kate P's family beach house in a teeny tiny town called Sandy Point on the Victorian coastline.
When I say teeny tiny I really really mean teeny tiny. The local pub was a half hour drive away inland at a place called Fish Creek.
Alas I was unwell (again) so we didn't stay the whole weekend. But long enough to sit round a fire in the back yard. And go for a stroll along the beach in the glorious but slightly chilly Australian sunshine. And of course collect the ubiquitous shells to sit pretty in a jar at home. And feel generally well rested (although sick).
Beach houses are the way forward me thinks. Although in the UK that means pricing out the locals in Devon and Cornwall and leaving picture post card fishing villages as empty ghost towns Monday to Friday and in the off season.
Yeah maybe not.
Happy Queens Birthday!