Once all the festivities were finished and my family had returned to the city we loaded up the car and headed east. We weren't sure where exactly we would end up. We just knew that we needed to get away. Away from the washing machine and the to-do list; and away from the Easter crowds on a beach somewhere not too far from home. The first two campgrounds we pulled into were heaving with visitors - the beach there so crowded with 4WD's and amateur fisher-folk casting for salmon that it looked more like a supermarket carpark than the remote stretch of coastline it usually passes for. We did a quick u-turn and kept on going. Past Albany a little way, to a protected corner where Grant's uncle worked as a ranger 30 years ago. Nothing much has changed there in that time. Come nightfall you can now see the glow of the city lights against the clouds just over the horizon, but it still feels like you are a million miles away.
We pitched our tent and spent the next three days fossicking along the shore; picking up every piece of rubbish from the long wide crescent of sand that stretches around to a nature reserve and plaiting coits from the salty lengths of rope that had fallen from passing fishing boats. The boys spent most of their time playing with the giant black beetles that crept around the undergrowth and buzzed around our heads come nightfall. They kept sneaking them into the tent, hidden in their ugg boots. We snorkeled around the rocks and watched a pod of dolphins cruising through the bay. On our last morning the sun came out and it was just us and the dolphins under a crisp blue sky. We dived into the icy waves for one last swim before heading home and packing away the towels and bathers for winter.