‘Class' moment Robert Irwin settles tab after dine & dash saga
The wildlife warrior returned to the Jetty Pavilion in Coffs Harbour to finally pay for his takeaway salad.
Days before, he issued an apology via his Instagram that he accidentally 'dined and dashed'. Robert Irwin has made good on his promise to return to a restaurant and pay for a salad he accidentally forgot to settle during a fan frenzy. 7News Credit: Supplied Robert Irwin has made good on his promise to return to a restaurant and pay for a salad he accidentally forgot to settle during a fan frenzy. 7News Credit: Supplied
Irwin told his 7.6m Instagram followers he stopped into the eatery to order a takeaway salad before getting distracted by fans wanting a selfie and to say 'g'day' to Irwin.
Caught up in the commotion, Irwin quickly said goodbye to the owners and his fans before scurrying off.
In the video, he told his followers: 'The next morning I wake up and realise … I never paid for my salad! I just did the old dine and dash!'
Robert Irwin does an accidental dine and dash in Coffs Harbour, NSW, when a flurry of fans distracted him and he forgot to pay his bill.
He called the venue offering to pay over the phone, but they insisted everything was fine and asked for Irwin to leave a review instead.
Irwin did one better returning to the scene of the crime to pay for his salad.
The owners of the Jetty Pavilion described Irwin as 'class'. Robert Irwin has made good on his promise to return to a restaurant and pay for a salad he accidentally forgot to settle during a fan frenzy. 7News Credit: Supplied
'When Robert Irwin came back to The Pav just to pay for his meal, absolute legend! Humble, kind, and all class,' the venue captioned a video posted to TikTok.
The Jetty Pavilion also said the whole commotion has been good for business.
'Surreal … the outreach from something so simple has been overwhelming,' the owners said to seven news.
The restaurant even joked they would name the salad after him.
'Hopefully it encourages a few more people to come and experience this place,' Mr Irwin said.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Perth Now
17 minutes ago
- Perth Now
Vanessa Hudgens is expecting her second child
Vanessa Hudgens is pregnant with her second child. The High School Musical actress has revealed on Instagram that she and her husband Cole Tucker are going to be parents again. Vanessa confirmed the news with a collection of photos of herself and Cole smiling as she showed off her baby bump. She captioned the snaps: "Round two!!!" Vanessa and Cole welcomed their first child in July 2024, although have kept details about the name and sex private, and the actress expressed disappointment that she was unable to break the news of the birth herself after photographs of her leaving hospital in Santa Monica were circulated online. She wrote on her Instagram Story: "We're disappointed that our family's privacy was disrespected and exploited during this very special time due to the greed of a long lens camera feeding the media. "Despite all of that, mom dad and baby are happy and healthy." Vanessa, 36, previously explained that she made her career choices with her future children at the forefront of her thoughts. She told E! News: "I'll show my kids all my work. That's why I chose things along the way in my career. I wanted to make sure that when I did have kids, there would be something for them to watch at every age." Vanessa married former baseball star Cole in 2023 but revealed beforehand that she expected to tie the knot and have children at an earlier age. She told Nylon in 2022: "I always thought I would be married at 25 because that's when my mom got married, and then when that didn't happen, I was like: 'Oh, okay, so we're just going to shift everything back a bit.' "I always thought that around 36, 37 is when I would want to have kids, and that still plays. I don't feel panicked about it." The Spring Breakers star previously dated Elvis actor Austin Butler for eight years but is grateful that their split "catapulted" her to true love with Cole. Speaking on the She Pivots podcast, Hudgens said: "I feel like so much of my character was built from my break-ups ... I feel like my last break-up has really catapulted me to a very, very special place, obviously. "It pushed me to the right person which I'm so grateful for because he's just the most supportive, real understanding human being that I've ever met."
The Age
an hour ago
- The Age
These farming women are bursting with creative pursuits. Just don't call them ‘trad wives'
In 2022, she expanded into homewares, a 'bit of a gamble' to make her art more accessible, and last year launched a separate clothing business called Far Mer., which features her Wild West-centric art and its rodeo motifs, sepia colours and the occasional Stetson. In the middle of it all, she uploads snippets to Instagram: a short natter about pop culture while she's reversing the ute for Tim, footage of their three sons chasing each other around the yard in gumboots as the peachy sun blooms, her unedited thoughts on Married at First Sight (which screens on Nine, owner of this masthead) or the 'trad wife' movement, which Spicer finds thoroughly entertaining. The growing cultural awareness of country life, spurred in part by those earnest homemaking women, Yellowstone's success and Beyonce's timely switch to Nashville-happy beats, is a source of inspiration for Spicer, whose edgy cotton tees, vibrant bandanas and pastel sarongs sit on shelves in rural boutiques and inner-city stores. 'I really don't know what the future holds, but we're just rolling with it,' she says. 'I definitely feel a huge support from women in rural communities. [My business] started with a rural base, and they're still there. Living in a rural town has not been a hindrance to my business at all; it's because of it that I've been so successful. Rural women just get behind other rural women.' 'I'm happier in the country': Meg Bignell, 50 Before marrying into a big farming family in Tasmania's Bream Creek, 45 minutes from Hobart, author Meg Bignell, whose own father is a hops farmer, worked as a nurse, TV producer and medical adviser for Australian hospital dramas. Dairy cows were not necessarily on her radar. These days, when she's not busy with farm life and raising her three children, Bignell writes novels inspired by the Tasmanian experience. Her latest, The Good Losers, out in July, is loosely inspired by Bignell's weekly journey to Hobart to support her daughter's rowing and schooling. Her previous book, The Angry Women's Choir, captured the power, fury and wonder of the Tasmanian spirit through the voices of 10 passionate women. Writing for both took place on the family's dairy farm, at a small desk in her bedroom overlooking Marion Bay and the milking sheds. While her books don't directly cover agricultural experiences, Bignell says the peace of this landscape, the rhythm of farming operations, and the time she has to herself when the dairy churns to life before the sun rises, enables ideas to flow more freely. 'You can't get much more of a set routine than a dairy farm. You milk twice a day, calving happens twice a year, harvest in the summer, harvest in the autumn; it's just so set,' she says. '[But] no two days are the same … the busier you are, the more you get done. I do tend to go around in circles if I've got too much time, and also I just would never have had any inspiration [for the books] if I didn't have my domestic side.' When it comes to her role on the 2000-acre property, which includes running the family's consumer dairy business, market stall and occasionally moving cattle, Bignell admits to still feeling some imposter syndrome. Loading 'I don't put the cups on the cows to milk them, but in later years it's become clear to me that a farm has to operate with both the farmers as well as the support network that allows the farmers to do what they do,' she says. 'Being the mother and the person who picks up the [machinery] parts from Hobart, and the person who makes sure there's food in the fridge – that is a part of the farm operation. 'When I'm working at the farmer's market, I know that I'm going to see my community, and they're doing the same things. That's so comforting, and I think that's part of the reason why I'm happier in the country. People are just doing their thing.' 'We are not invisible any more': Lisa Addinsall, 64 Creativity and resourcefulness run in the veins of proud sixth-generation farmer Lisa Addinsall. Every morning, on her 2½-acre property in Tarrington, 300 kilometres west of Melbourne, she toils over swelling gardens of dahlias, snapdragons and cosmos. Flowers are one of the great loves of her life, alongside art, teaching and her family. Hours before she welcomes students, who will paint still-lifes of the blooms they pick in these paddocks, she's preparing bouquets for the farmgate store, tending to vegetables, running her floristry business and meeting orders for weddings, events and locals. She documents moments on social media, educating followers about the rural experience (and gardening 101) with humour, grace and colour. 'What I'm doing – and other people are doing this as well – is creating connections between the community and people, so they see farming in a different way,' she says. 'It was a bit of a closed gate [before]; you never got to get on a farm if you didn't have farming friends. I think women have been the leaders of this changing – we have diversified what being in agriculture means.' A lifelong teacher, Addinsall ran art retreats in a woolshed in the 1980s, a natural precursor to the classes she launched on her current farm in 2021. She hosts bouquet-crafting, wreath-making and painting classes alongside flower-growing lessons and farm tours, through which she demonstrates mulching, seed-saving, water preservation, slow and low-tillage farming practices – the same methods that keep her gardens bountiful and replenish the store that sits outside her front gate. A paintbrush and notebook are never far away. 'They're traditional cultural things [in farming], and I'm still working in that way, but I'm using Instagram and Facebook and modern ways of bringing people in to see what I'm doing,' she says. It's a different agricultural industry than the one her mother experienced, and will be different again for her eight grandchildren. 'Behind the scenes, women were always farmers, but it was always the male farmer who was the 'seen' person,' she says. 'My mum had times when the bank manager would only talk to my dad. You can see women in agriculture now – they're not invisible any more.'
Sydney Morning Herald
an hour ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
These farming women are bursting with creative pursuits. Just don't call them ‘trad wives'
In 2022, she expanded into homewares, a 'bit of a gamble' to make her art more accessible, and last year launched a separate clothing business called Far Mer., which features her Wild West-centric art and its rodeo motifs, sepia colours and the occasional Stetson. In the middle of it all, she uploads snippets to Instagram: a short natter about pop culture while she's reversing the ute for Tim, footage of their three sons chasing each other around the yard in gumboots as the peachy sun blooms, her unedited thoughts on Married at First Sight (which screens on Nine, owner of this masthead) or the 'trad wife' movement, which Spicer finds thoroughly entertaining. The growing cultural awareness of country life, spurred in part by those earnest homemaking women, Yellowstone's success and Beyonce's timely switch to Nashville-happy beats, is a source of inspiration for Spicer, whose edgy cotton tees, vibrant bandanas and pastel sarongs sit on shelves in rural boutiques and inner-city stores. 'I really don't know what the future holds, but we're just rolling with it,' she says. 'I definitely feel a huge support from women in rural communities. [My business] started with a rural base, and they're still there. Living in a rural town has not been a hindrance to my business at all; it's because of it that I've been so successful. Rural women just get behind other rural women.' 'I'm happier in the country': Meg Bignell, 50 Before marrying into a big farming family in Tasmania's Bream Creek, 45 minutes from Hobart, author Meg Bignell, whose own father is a hops farmer, worked as a nurse, TV producer and medical adviser for Australian hospital dramas. Dairy cows were not necessarily on her radar. These days, when she's not busy with farm life and raising her three children, Bignell writes novels inspired by the Tasmanian experience. Her latest, The Good Losers, out in July, is loosely inspired by Bignell's weekly journey to Hobart to support her daughter's rowing and schooling. Her previous book, The Angry Women's Choir, captured the power, fury and wonder of the Tasmanian spirit through the voices of 10 passionate women. Writing for both took place on the family's dairy farm, at a small desk in her bedroom overlooking Marion Bay and the milking sheds. While her books don't directly cover agricultural experiences, Bignell says the peace of this landscape, the rhythm of farming operations, and the time she has to herself when the dairy churns to life before the sun rises, enables ideas to flow more freely. 'You can't get much more of a set routine than a dairy farm. You milk twice a day, calving happens twice a year, harvest in the summer, harvest in the autumn; it's just so set,' she says. '[But] no two days are the same … the busier you are, the more you get done. I do tend to go around in circles if I've got too much time, and also I just would never have had any inspiration [for the books] if I didn't have my domestic side.' When it comes to her role on the 2000-acre property, which includes running the family's consumer dairy business, market stall and occasionally moving cattle, Bignell admits to still feeling some imposter syndrome. Loading 'I don't put the cups on the cows to milk them, but in later years it's become clear to me that a farm has to operate with both the farmers as well as the support network that allows the farmers to do what they do,' she says. 'Being the mother and the person who picks up the [machinery] parts from Hobart, and the person who makes sure there's food in the fridge – that is a part of the farm operation. 'When I'm working at the farmer's market, I know that I'm going to see my community, and they're doing the same things. That's so comforting, and I think that's part of the reason why I'm happier in the country. People are just doing their thing.' 'We are not invisible any more': Lisa Addinsall, 64 Creativity and resourcefulness run in the veins of proud sixth-generation farmer Lisa Addinsall. Every morning, on her 2½-acre property in Tarrington, 300 kilometres west of Melbourne, she toils over swelling gardens of dahlias, snapdragons and cosmos. Flowers are one of the great loves of her life, alongside art, teaching and her family. Hours before she welcomes students, who will paint still-lifes of the blooms they pick in these paddocks, she's preparing bouquets for the farmgate store, tending to vegetables, running her floristry business and meeting orders for weddings, events and locals. She documents moments on social media, educating followers about the rural experience (and gardening 101) with humour, grace and colour. 'What I'm doing – and other people are doing this as well – is creating connections between the community and people, so they see farming in a different way,' she says. 'It was a bit of a closed gate [before]; you never got to get on a farm if you didn't have farming friends. I think women have been the leaders of this changing – we have diversified what being in agriculture means.' A lifelong teacher, Addinsall ran art retreats in a woolshed in the 1980s, a natural precursor to the classes she launched on her current farm in 2021. She hosts bouquet-crafting, wreath-making and painting classes alongside flower-growing lessons and farm tours, through which she demonstrates mulching, seed-saving, water preservation, slow and low-tillage farming practices – the same methods that keep her gardens bountiful and replenish the store that sits outside her front gate. A paintbrush and notebook are never far away. 'They're traditional cultural things [in farming], and I'm still working in that way, but I'm using Instagram and Facebook and modern ways of bringing people in to see what I'm doing,' she says. It's a different agricultural industry than the one her mother experienced, and will be different again for her eight grandchildren. 'Behind the scenes, women were always farmers, but it was always the male farmer who was the 'seen' person,' she says. 'My mum had times when the bank manager would only talk to my dad. You can see women in agriculture now – they're not invisible any more.'
