“This oregano is best before 1985!” my sister cries, adding it to the pile on the laminate bench. It’s Hervey Bay circa 1991. My family is staying in Gran’s retirement villa, my sisters and I on camp stretchers in the garage. A single pedestal fan brings short bursts of breeze, rotating relief from the December heat.
The town is not yet on the backpacker circuit. There aren’t any cafes, shops or streaming services, and there are only so many games of Scrabble we can take.
