Obviously, one of the first things that Jack-Patrick had to do on reaching the United Kingdom was to go and see where his antecedents used to live. Here, therefore, you see me looking in one direction, his mum looking in another, his dad adjusting the buggy (complete with ‘festival wheels’) – and the dog and Jack-Patrick completely disinterested in the whole affair.
May Hill, incidentally, is 14 miles away, in the direction I’m looking. Just so we’re all clear.
I discovered last night that Jack-Patrick’s birth certificate, signed by the gloriously named Greg Curry, (registrar of births, marriages and deaths in New South Wales), lists his father’s job as ‘self-employed clown’. I am sure that this will be something Jack-Patrick will be very proud of eventually. But there may be a little embarrassment, I suspect, during his adolescent years…