The waves are always browner, too

The surprisingly named Wave Rock (Perth)

So tomorrow I'm heading back to Australia, that land where not only is the grass usually, if not always, browner, but now it would appear so are the waves. So much for my surfing plans.

Just when you thought you'd seen everything, Australia, the land of wonderful wrongness (see previous 'wonderfully wrong' post for the origins of the term https://onewomanswo.blogspot.co.nz/2015/05/wonderfully-wrong.html) delivers up this rock that must surely have been a wave in a previous life.

Who knew a wave could be turned into a rock as if zapped by the White Witch's stoning wand? I didn't, for one, at least not until now (thank you, Google).

Clearly I don't know everything there is to know about this wonderfully wrong country, which is a worry, as it's not only the country I was born and raised in, but the setting for my first (and wishfully planned third) book. It's also where I'm heading forthwith to be interviewed by the local media about said book.

Never mind; I'm sure the Australians will be wonderfully understanding about my ignorance of their (our) wonderfully wrong country, I just have to remember to emphasise the wonderful over the wrong. How hard can it be?

Don't answer that.