It’s that time of year again when the winter solstice sunrises are an absolute treat. This year we had a bunch of Millennials and Xennials (most of them journos from Canberra and Sydney) staying at Table House. I offered them a champagne breakfast if they would arise in time to watch this significant event (actually the day after the true solstice sunrise but close enough to count). The deal was they had to be up and about by 6.15 am ready to watch from the very first red streak on the horizon to the minute the sun bursts out of Bass Strait at 7.40 am precisely. Sure enough, they all emerged, mostly still in their PJs. Only problem was, I hadn’t reckoned on the Matildas playing for Australia at the soccer World Cup in France at the same time which totally clashed with my solstice sunrise event. Nevertheless most of them were keen enough to be lured from the nail-biting finale of the World Cup to take pics and drool over the brilliance of the morning.