Hanging out with me for the day would inevitably be fairly cruisey (I’m indulging in the fantasy that I’ve got no kids to supervise for the day, humour me, please!). We’d start by spreading out a picnic blanket and taking an early morning breakfast down at the “little markets” in the shady council park right on the beach. You could choose something light and healthful, maybe green coconut milk and a bag of rambutans or a mango. Or the Churchies put on a great stall with cuppas and cake if you want. You can get Thai vegetarian spring rolls and great Greek storchie. If you’re anything like me you won’t have to choose we’ll just spent a leisurely couple of hours slowly eating our way through everything in sight. If you’re interested and a little bit arty I’d suggest we fund our alfresco fresh breakfast buffet by running a kiddies face painting stall. I reckon you might enjoy transforming all those cute upturned little freckled faces into glittery butterflies and masked crusaders.

When we’d had enough of that I’d take you for a twenty minute drive to a local freshwater swimming hole. We could alternate between basking in the sun and freezing our arses off in the creek. We could go for a rock-hop upstream or boogie-board downstream and of course we would have brought some freerange eggs, and homegrown capsicum, eggplant, zucchini and corn to grill on the barbie if we felt hungry again.

By then it’d be time to come home for some chill-out time. We’d lounge around having green tea and peach blossoms and medicate our sunburn with Aloe Vera. We’d make talk over Better Homes and Gardens and celebrity gossip mag’s until it was cool enough to go back outside.

Then we’d choose what we felt like the most. Maybe a bike ride? We could cycle the nine kilometers to get back down the beach and then ride all over the place, taking in the scenery. Or we could walk up the hill to Mum’s. Her place has got the best views around and while we’re there I could slaughter you in table-tennis. Or maybe I could take you to the Sanctuary for a yoga lesson. To get there you have to walk a trail up this hillside in the rainforest and brave the possibility of coming face to face with a cassowary – she’ll be right, I’ll go first.

Come night time I’d stoke up a fire in the yard and we’d invite some friends over to meet you and share our beer battered coral trout. Greg will try insisting that you sample all his homebrews – hazelnut liqueur, coconut rum, “Mia Taria”. He’s even got beer on tap in the carport. He’d probably want you to sample that as well. I’ll tell him off if he gets too pushy. We’ve had grown men turn infantile after a night on Greg’s home brew.

Nadine, 33, North Queensland, Australia