You’ve got a ute? You’ve got a home.
You just don’t have a toilet.
Wait, you’ve got a shovel? Yep you have a toilet.
After the delightful long weekend in Hawks Nest, Mark and I were dying for another taste of sun and sand. But not just a day trip, we decided at midday on Saturday, to throw our belongings and swag into the back of his ute, and head up the coast to Blacksmiths Beach, Swansea, Newcastle, Australia, Earth… Milky Way – this one’s for my inter-planetary readers.
As we drove up the M1 towards Newcastle, storm clouds were brewing up something nasty for the Central Coast region, but we didnt shy away. Constantly checking the weather app as we drove, I was convinced that the iPhone weatherman inside my device had it wrong. The clouds above our heads were NAAASTY.
We bounced along the soft sand of the beach, searching for the perfect spot to camp. In case you were wondering, Mark and I have a list of criteria for our beach-side camping spots.
- Shruberys that allow for secretive toilet… breaks
- Dunes that will block the evening and morning winds
- A flat yet soft region to dump the swag
- Traces of firewood – that way we know someone has GENIOUSLY camped here before
We stopped in at the Swansea Woolies and grabbed $44 worth of groceries for our overnighter.
- Barbequed chicken and potato salad for dinner
- 2 avocadoes
- Loaf of bread
- 2 x Double Espresso Dare Iced Coffees
- 2 Mangoes
- and 2 giant bags of Jerky for the roadtrip
We set up on top of a dune, with the perfect amount of shrubery behind. Luckily, Mark is a chippy, so he collects left-over firewood from the ‘office’ and brings it on our camping trips. That way we can fire up this little beauty:
We slept with the fly screen zipped up, with the stars twinkling above, and the waves crashing below. As the sun began to rise over the horizon, our ‘room’ lit up – inspiring me to SPRING straight from the swag and capture these money makers:
Sleepy Mark is sleeping in the sleepy place that is the swag. But that’s okay, because this place is so chilled that even the magpies aint hatin, they are literally waddling around the campsite, waiting for breaky. That’s right folks – NO SWOOPERS HERE.
As my tummy grumbles, I think of the kindest way to wake him.
You might hear about that later if I ever – oh I have to post part two of the Cheese Platter Diaries. Soon, my pretties, Soon…