DorkySon and I have just got back from Adelaide, and my tender mama heart is full.

He turns 15 next month, so hopefully we still have a year or two more of family holidays. But even so, time is starting to feel like a precious commodity, and three full days of his company was a delight.

Last summer, DorkyDad took DorkySon to Canberra for a few days – compensation for a school camp that was cancelled during COVID-19 lockdowns. This year it was my turn and, given the choice of any city in Australia, he went for the city of churches. Although not, actually, for the churches.

(Just for the record, I am well aware that I got a better deal than DorkyDad. And I’ve been reminded of that. More than once.)

I kept an eye out for reasonably priced flights – and at some point late last year I got lucky in a Happy Hour Sale – so on the final weekend of the Tasmanian school holidays, we found ourselves at Hobart Airport. Bags checked in, digital boarding passes saved on our phones, and absolutely spoiled for choice with delicious dinner options.

That last bit might be an exaggeration. DorkySon had a pasta salad from Liv Eat, I had a rice salad from Liv Eat, and we split a KitKat on the plane. It did the job.

Our first impressions of Adelaide were really good. We made it through the airport quickly and easily, immediately found a cab to the city centre, and were settled in the hotel room in time for a room service hot chocolate and a beautiful view of the sunset.

The bargainous air fares I’d found meant that I felt able to splash out a bit on our accommodation, so we had booked in at The Playford on North Terrace.

It’s an absolute gem of a hotel. Huge comfortable room, super friendly and helpful staff, a chilled-out pool and spa area, and a highly regarded restaurant. I feel like I have come to appreciate holidays so much more in the last few years. Just the prospect of a few days in a nice hotel, with someone else making my morning coffee and no laundry to do, felt in itself like a real treat.

Did I mention the breakfast? I bloody love me a hotel buffet breakfast. Where else can you stick a hash brown, a Danish pastry and two chicken chipolatas on the same plate without judgement? The Playford’s breakfast even included a chocolate fountain with marshmallows… DorkySon and I resisted, but we had a great fun watching all the toddlers launch themselves at it, as their parents desperately – and unsuccessfully – tried to tempt them away with bowls Bran Flakes and plates of sliced apple.

The Playford is also perfectly located for first time visitors to Adelaide. It’s right opposite the train station and right beside a tram stop for the days when you want to head out and explore, and it’s just a few minutes’ walk from Adelaide Oval and the beautiful walks and parkland along the River Torrens.

It’s also very close to the many museums and galleries that are spread out along North Terrace – although these will have to wait for our next visit. Were we there for the special collections at the State Library, the world-class exhibits of Aboriginal art at AGSA, or the intersection of science, art and innovation at MOD?

We were not. We were mainly in Adelaide so that DorkySon could visit the South Australian Aviation Museum (SAAM).

Which is why, at 10am on the Saturday morning, with the temperature already well above 30 degrees, I found myself wandering down a gravel path on an industrial estate in Port Adelaide.

The SAAM has recently been forced to change their entrance, due to some nearby construction work. The cab we took from the hotel deposited us at an intersection where there was one signpost for the museum pointing left, and another signpost for the museum pointing right. DorkySon and I looked at each other and shrugged.

“Just drop us here,” I said. “We’ll work it out…”

We did work it out, and spend a very happy morning wandering among the museum’s collection, which included a Gipsy Moth, a Douglas Dakota, and a Fokker Friendship. DorkySon will blog about that visit in more detail, and I’ll include a link here when he does.

Like so many specialist museums, the SAAM is mainly run by a lovely, dedicated group of volunteers. When we’d finished our tour, one of them was kind enough to abandon their gift-shop duties for ten minutes and give us a lift to Port Adelaide station so we could avoid the return taxi fare into the city.

We arrived back into Adelaide in time for lunch and then, as it had reached 36 degrees, DorkySon decided it was time to check out the pool. After cooling off, we ventured out again for a walk along the river and around Adelaide Oval – and then we tucked in for dinner at the hotel and an early night. A mere 15,500 steps clocked up on our first day in the city.

Sunday was due to be another hot one, so rather than sticking with our initial plan of walking up through the parks to check our Adelaide Zoo – where we assumed all the animals would be snoozing in the shade – we caught a tram out to the beach at Glenelg.

What a novelty for these Tasmanian-Scots to dip our toes in water that was actually warm!

I was immediately charmed by the little coastal suburb, with its strip of cafes and restaurants, its joggers and dog walkers, and the long jetty lined on either side by kids with fishing rods. DorkySon took a little more convincing, but after a quick snack stop, a spin on the Ferris Wheel, and the realisation that Glenelg is a top-notch location for watching planes land at the airport, even he was won over and we had a really lovely morning.

That afternoon, it was back for another quiet afternoon in the hotel – avoiding the heat, squeezing in another swim, and watching a Tasmanian JackJumpers game on the TV.

(Ironically enough, they were playing Adelaide – in Hobart.)

We had dinner that night at a casual spot right by the Torrens, then walked it off with another riverside stroll under the gum trees. 18,200 steps done on the Sunday, and the sense that it was all going rather too quickly – although we were also looking forward to getting home to DorkyDad and DorkyDog the following day.

Our flight home on Monday wasn’t until mid-afternoon, so we still had a morning in the city but we didn’t really make the most of it.

I had read online that the famous Adelaide Botanic Gardens were open from 7.15am, so we caught a tram along North Terrace after breakfast – thinking we could pass a couple of hours in the gardens and grab a quick bite to eat there before heading back to the hotel and checking out.

I’m sure they’re a treat if you’re a real plant enthusiast, but my ever-honest 14-year-old declared them to be ‘really shit’. The early opening just meant that the gates were unlocked, not any of the indoor areas like the museum, water lily pavilion, or palm house – so we had pretty much zoomed around by 8.30am, and were out of things to do there before anything else in the city was even thinking about opening.

To pass a bit more time, we caught the tram back to Adelaide Station and went for a final river walk to say cheerio to the bin chickens. Then, out of ideas and keen for a seat, we headed out to the airport with a mere five hours to kill before our flight.

We had always planned to go out there a bit early because there is a new Vickers Vimy Exhibit that DorkySon was keen to see. Unfortunately, this too was ‘really shit’.

(He wasn’t wrong. It was poorly lit, quite cramped, and very uninspiring).

With some degree of resignation, we made our way through security for four and a half hours of planespotting and a small fortune spent at Boost Juice. My mood wasn’t improved by the noisy cherrypicker that seemed to follow us up and down the concourse while airport staff moved artworks around on the walls. Nor was it improved when I realised I’d packed both my books in my check-in bag.

But DorkySon is great company and we were still on good terms – laughing even – when the time finally came to board our flight. 17,100 steps later. He had taken dozens of photos of planes he would never see at Hobart; we’d scored several waves from the ground crew; and we’d had a highly entertaining look at what goes on behind the scenes when a passenger doesn’t show up and their bags are removed from a plane… and then they do show up after all…

I feel so very, very lucky to have the opportunity to enjoy fun experiences with my kiddo. I know there are advantages to big families too – a kind of happy rolling chaos that our quiet family of three will never know. But it feels like such a treat to get one-on-one time with my one-and-only. To make our own plans, without any need to negotiate. To say yes to impromptu ice cream stops. To take silly selfies and as many plane photos as will fit on his memory card.

It was a treat too, to get home. To big hugs from DorkyDad and enthusiastic tail wags from DorkyDog. To an easy pasta dinner from the Farm Gate Market and – blissfully – to my own bed. Not even a chocolate fountain at breakfast is better than that.