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When it's so hot you can fry an egg on the footpath.

The temperature hit 41 celsius late Saturday, or 105 fahrenheit (sounds more impressive). Slow to rise, it was still low thirties around lunchtime.

Earlier in the morning we found ourselves at one of the Peninsula markets - a mixture between a farmers' market and a craft market. The farmers seem to be winning at present - who needs another pine knick-knack or a crocheted wall-hanging?

Also quite a few plant nurseries had set up stalls. Shrubs were walking out, must be a lot of planting going on along the bay. Natives, exotics, ornamentals, all kinds of plants. Rose bushes, etc etc. I never know what to buy.

One fruit and vegetable stallholder had a box of button squash in sizes ranging from about three inches to about twelve inches across. However, they were all the same price - a dollar each! I chose a medium-sized one to hopefully get the best compromise between value and flavour. Picked up some nice tomatoes, mushrooms and pale zucchini. Fat stone fruits - peaches and nectarines in several varieties - are sensuous and bursting with juice. You just want to bite them.

Spent the rest of the day on the beach as the temperature rose and rose - alternately sitting in the shade of the ti-tree just metres from the water's edge and strolling out into the water. The beach at Blairgowrie has a gradual drop meaning you can wade out about four hundred metres before it drops away into deep water.

Too hot to eat in, so back to prepare some food around six. Packed a picnic comprising an old-fashioned summer salad (tomatoes, cucumber, coriander, parsley, onion, quartered hardboiled eggs and cubes of cheddar cheese), some risotto with mushrooms (cooled) and a platter of sliced bratwurst and chili sausage. A cold bottle of white wine (didn't stay cold for long in the heat) and for dessert, some strawberries soused in sweet white wine.

Arriving back at the beach, we threw the tartan blanket on the sand, unpacked the goodies and watched the light fade. The heat was still intense. The dogs, Billy and Goldie, lay in the sand beside us, half-opened eyes on our dinner but too hot to show real interest.

Soon, the sea and sky merged into a steamy blue-grey blur as the sun went down. As it did so, the highlight of the evening ... the magnificent QE2 passenger liner, ablaze with lights, slid into view directly on the horizon and proceeded regally down the bay. Its sheer size meant that it seemed to sit lower in the water than the other ships that pass up and down. Maybe the fresh load of provisions on board - the champagne, the truffles, the caviar and the rest - were weighing it down. Does it gradually 'rise' in the water as it nears its next destination and the passengers exhaust supplies? So we speculated as we sat on the sand in the dying light, replete, draining the last of the wine.

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