Every good camping trip starts with a trip to the grocery store – and a trusty cheese platter, without that, you’d be missing a cracker of an opportunity.
We arrived at the very end of Hawks Nest beach around 1pm, in the heat of the day with about 20 other four-wheel drives parked up the beach. Families sat in the back of the boots, under their awnings of the car, and scrambled to and from the clear water to cool down.
Mark and I lathered ourselves up with suncream and plonked ourselves on the beach. It wasnt until I read a sign up on the hill that read “DO NOT DRIVE PAST THIS POINT” which happened to be where we entered the beach from…
as soon as they did, we parked Mark’s ute in the corner, where it stayed put for a whole 3 days.
We watched the sun set and listened to Phil Collins and other embarassing 80’s tunes on the Tradio – singing without shame at the top of our lungs.
Check back here in a few weeks when I eventually post part two of the October long weekend edition of Hawks Nest. Next time we ‘drop the kids off at the pool’ and become BFFL with a fisherman that overshared.