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Going 'down the coast'
Mar. 25th, 2008 08:57 pmOver the Easter long weekend, I went to Pebbly Beach, which is about 20 minutes north of Batemans Bay. We left on Friday morning, stopping for lunch in Thirroul with my aunts and cousins on my dad's side of the family. Mimi drove from Sydney to Thirroul, with I was very terrified about (there was some joking about sedating me and making me lie blindfolded in the back seat). Mimi did a great job, and it's nice to see that she's not following in her (gibbering wreck in the face of having to drive to the point of never learning) older sister's footsteps.
Unfortunately, my cousins were both out, Nick bike-riding with his friends on the dirt tracks in another suburb, Viv off to see the ghastly Hannah Montana 3D movie, but we had a good time catching up with the Middleton aunts and uncles. Then we put Mimi on the train back to Sydney and drove on to Pebbly. This should've taken two hours, but because it was Good Friday, the traffic was insane, and crawled between Wollongong and Nowra. By the way, I *hate* Nowra. It's like all of Fyshwick, spread out to make a large country town. The Canberrans will know what I mean.
Pebbly Beach, for those who don't know, is a campground on the NSW south coast. It has an area for tents, and four cabins, which have gas but no electricity, and no hot water. We went there a couple of times when I was younger, with some family friends, who have been going there this time of the year since 1991ish. It has a large population of kangaroos, a beautiful beach and is surrounded by gorgeous bushland. It was so...rejuvenating...to be there, away from technology and...people.
On the Friday, we were there too late to do much besides check out the kangaroos, wander on to the beach and cook dinner. After dinner, some members of the family played Scrabble and I began reading Pyramids by Terry Pratchett. Then I went to sleep on an incredibly saggy mattress. If you sleep on your stomach, you'll know what I mean when I say that hell is quite probably a saggy mattress and soggy pillow.
The next morning, I woke up, and after a quick breakfast, joined the party in Batemans Bay and downgraded saggy mattresses to Purgatory: hell is Batemans Bay on Easter Saturday, full of panicked Canberrans bulk-buying holiday supplies in Coles! But I did manage to get a coffee, which made the whole trip worth it.
Then we went back, had lunch, and walked up Durras Mountain. Strangely, we were able to get phone reception up there. It wasn't really peaceful in the bush, though - everyone who was staying at Pebbly seemed to have the same idea as us, and the path was crowded with hikers (and even one mountain-biker). On the way back down, we gathered kindling for the wood barbecue and cooked chicken. It's astonishing that I can be 23 years old and still fascinated with fire. In a 'hey, I'll spend the entire evening sticking twigs in the fire and watching them burn' kind of way.
After another night on the saggy bed, I woke up to a beautiful sunny day: perfect beach weather. I spent the morning on the beach and the afternoon walking along the beaches to Depot Beach, which is about half an hour away. Then I read (and finished) One Good Turn by Kate Atkinson and helped prepare nachos for dinner.
On Monday, after much nagging from me, we left at 10am, but it wasn't early enough to beat the traffic, which crawled even before we got to Nowra. My mother, who has the Phillips impatience in spades, refused to drive a minute longer in 10km/h traffic, and we peeled off on this gravel road which takes you to Braidwood. But before we got to Braidwood, we peeled off on another small country road to Goulburn, and then another to Marulan, ending up eventually on the Hume Highway. Unfortunately, now I've told you all our secret route, I'll have to kill you!
It still took us six hours to get back to home, but it was worth it.
Unfortunately, my cousins were both out, Nick bike-riding with his friends on the dirt tracks in another suburb, Viv off to see the ghastly Hannah Montana 3D movie, but we had a good time catching up with the Middleton aunts and uncles. Then we put Mimi on the train back to Sydney and drove on to Pebbly. This should've taken two hours, but because it was Good Friday, the traffic was insane, and crawled between Wollongong and Nowra. By the way, I *hate* Nowra. It's like all of Fyshwick, spread out to make a large country town. The Canberrans will know what I mean.
Pebbly Beach, for those who don't know, is a campground on the NSW south coast. It has an area for tents, and four cabins, which have gas but no electricity, and no hot water. We went there a couple of times when I was younger, with some family friends, who have been going there this time of the year since 1991ish. It has a large population of kangaroos, a beautiful beach and is surrounded by gorgeous bushland. It was so...rejuvenating...to be there, away from technology and...people.
On the Friday, we were there too late to do much besides check out the kangaroos, wander on to the beach and cook dinner. After dinner, some members of the family played Scrabble and I began reading Pyramids by Terry Pratchett. Then I went to sleep on an incredibly saggy mattress. If you sleep on your stomach, you'll know what I mean when I say that hell is quite probably a saggy mattress and soggy pillow.
The next morning, I woke up, and after a quick breakfast, joined the party in Batemans Bay and downgraded saggy mattresses to Purgatory: hell is Batemans Bay on Easter Saturday, full of panicked Canberrans bulk-buying holiday supplies in Coles! But I did manage to get a coffee, which made the whole trip worth it.
Then we went back, had lunch, and walked up Durras Mountain. Strangely, we were able to get phone reception up there. It wasn't really peaceful in the bush, though - everyone who was staying at Pebbly seemed to have the same idea as us, and the path was crowded with hikers (and even one mountain-biker). On the way back down, we gathered kindling for the wood barbecue and cooked chicken. It's astonishing that I can be 23 years old and still fascinated with fire. In a 'hey, I'll spend the entire evening sticking twigs in the fire and watching them burn' kind of way.
After another night on the saggy bed, I woke up to a beautiful sunny day: perfect beach weather. I spent the morning on the beach and the afternoon walking along the beaches to Depot Beach, which is about half an hour away. Then I read (and finished) One Good Turn by Kate Atkinson and helped prepare nachos for dinner.
On Monday, after much nagging from me, we left at 10am, but it wasn't early enough to beat the traffic, which crawled even before we got to Nowra. My mother, who has the Phillips impatience in spades, refused to drive a minute longer in 10km/h traffic, and we peeled off on this gravel road which takes you to Braidwood. But before we got to Braidwood, we peeled off on another small country road to Goulburn, and then another to Marulan, ending up eventually on the Hume Highway. Unfortunately, now I've told you all our secret route, I'll have to kill you!
It still took us six hours to get back to home, but it was worth it.
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