While their parents, filled with the boundless energy of youth not yet completely spent, combined with a double shot of coffee set off to see the sites, their grandparents who were almost, but not quite as badly in need of a lay day as the boys, sat quietly with them at home.
This was helped by the fact that the Big E had about four years' worth of sleep to catch up on, and Mr Five's until now inexhaustible batteries had reached the sort of low that produces dark rings under the eyes and feet that don't quite lift off the ground when requested by the brain attached to them.
A morning of making treasure maps and pirate hats seemed to lift the spirits of all aboard for a time, but nowhere near as much as the early afternoon nap did. Post nap it was time for Ken and Robyn to track us down fresh from a 4:30am arrival in London from Australia and incredibly barely showing signs of fading when they left us as the sun was beginning to set, which coincidentally is getting pretty close to bedtime for sensible people.
Jetlag, it would appear, is contagious, as those among us who have travelled no faster than eight or nine kilometres per hour were also starting to feel its impact, but there was still some serious arranging to do, so one of us bravely soldiered into the night on risking certain fatigue on the morrow.
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