Brunswick Heads

Valerie from across the road is down on the Tweed Coast at Brunswick Heads in New South Walkes, camping Australian style.

She invited us down there and we drove down today. Nicole minded the shop her from the resplendent pit as she is on nights at the moment and therefore unavailable for daytime amusement.

I had some sort of vague map to work from and Val's instructions delivered via mobile phone in the manner of someone who knows the area very well. Unfortunately I'm the type of person whose brain involuntarily disengages when being given directions.

Still after a couple of hours we got there in one piece, after an uneventful journey during which Eloise failed to sleep, succeeded in eating lots of sweeties (well some) and I got a glimpse of Mount Warning poking its head into the broken low cloud.

We sat down for a cup of coffee with Valerie and her camping buddies in the communal area of a canvas multiplex of tents, some of which were sheltered under sweeping canopies of further canvas, and partook of the weft of conversation involving primarily sensible and eminently helpful instructions, sometimes framed as suggestion, sometimes enticement, to children.

Eloise enjoyed herself after a few minutes of coy shyness and heventuallee we got round, after an eternity of procrastination and prevarication masquerading as preparing mentally and logistically, we went for a walk to the beach.

This involved ambling along the banks of a river, past a fair (sadly abandoned), sheltering from a short but squally shower beneath some pine trees with Val, Susie, Carol, Zac and Rees (note to self: check spelling) and crossing a bridge "of character" whose builders clearly didn't possess a long straight edge against which to level the sides, we got to the beach.

Sand: good quality. Firm underfoot even though tide receded.

Wind: strong.

We got back eventually, stopping only for an ice cream which ended in a chocolate arm, then camped, if that's the right word for inane chatter carried out on canvas furniture underneath a palatial canvas awning whilst eating the cake that Nicole cooked the night before and which I didn't take credit for, really and honestly.

Then home again home again jiggety jig. And back before dark.