Australians in the main seem to be very cheerful. Being here is a little like being in the North of England. Shop assistants turn any small encounter into a happy chat. The rising inflection, so familiar to the English since the arrival of 'Neighbours' in the UK in 1985, dispenses warmth with its questioning invitation.

There have been few grumpy Australians on our visit. A hotel receptionist in Melbourne (who did later cheer up and barter her way back into our affections with some Ferrero Rocher chocolates), a restauranteur whose table reservation system we unknowingly bypassed on a hot afternoon, and a grumpy woman in the queue at the zoo who was auditioning for the new “Mrs Mangel”.

These were in the minority and we have been met here with warmth, charm and a big smile. If I have a New Years resolution, and officially I don’t, I think it will be “to be more Australian”.

Today is our last full day and we couldn’t resist the beach once more. Cloudy though it was, it remained hot and the morning was spent at Manly beach - mainly because it’s the only one we’ve found that has sun loungers. I can’t do a towel on the sand anymore. The angle for reading is impossible to get right. So two loungers and a umbrella and lunch on the beach was a fine final day. A visit to Ben and Jerry’s on the esplanade for dessert, and suddenly I think I know what Gallipoli must have been like.

Time to walk back through Sydney and buy something. I have to do retail as part of a holiday. Richard has happily scoured the souvenir shops of Manly with great success, but Central Sydney proves disappointing.Back in Potts Point, yards from our door, we stumble across one of those little neighbourhood shops that are everywhere from Dulwich to Dulwich Hills. There is a shirt that looks very australian (in a plain sort of way) and it’s reduced. Add to that some rather chic trunks to replace the pair that Richard managed to rip his way out of on New Year’s eve morning , and our retail is done.

Packing takes a little of the afternoon. Amazing the number of clothes I thought deserved a trip to Australia, and didn’t deserve to be worn.!

On my one previous visit to Sydney, fourteen years ago, we were taken to a restaurant called Aria over looking the opera house and I had one of the best meals I’ve ever had, so it only seems fitting that tonight, for our final night, I take Richard there to see if it's still as good as I remember.

It turns out that it is. Four brilliant courses served over a leisurely two hours and a chance for us to share our highlights of what has been an amazing holiday.

A rather hectic Uber journey back to the flat, and a few things to look forward to tomorrow before the long journey home.