Robin Park

Robin Park is what a park should be.
In the multi-​layered suburb of Sorrento heading down to the beach the horizon varies from vast blues and greens respectively between snippets of the sea and parks. This splash of green is a vibrant delight. The gums on the out skirts soften the radiating green, which is left largely unoccupied and full of potential.
As well as the opportunity to play in some sand on the edge of the park, just before you hit reeds, are a few cricket pitches — caged off.. . (I’m a bit of a fan of the cage, it implies a certain safety outside linked with impending doom and danger for who ever dares to enter, plus when the bowling grows old you can combine your show of strength and urge to climb things) In my opinion, you don’t see enough of them around the place so thank goodness for that. (Maybe if every park in Aus had a couple of caged cricket pitches off to the side we’d have a hope in hell of getting the ashes back?!)
Robin Park is park perfection!

My girlfriend tells me a story about Robin Park. Actually, it’s not really a story. It’s more a piece of useless information. When she was at primary school, her class painted the park’s bus shelter. You can judge their efforts for yourself. Personally, I think the paint job is impressive, but that the toucan is weird-​looking. Its eye is the same colour as the background. And what’s with the flying spades? («They’re leaves!» my girlfriend protests.) Learn to draw, kids.
Robin Park is essentially a cricket pitch and the wicket is in good nick. There’s also a playground for the kids, but generally speaking it’s less a family picnic spot than a sporting one.