Camping in the National Parks have so far been the best. Gorgeous, tranquil spots in the thick of the bush with our own private trails down to a long stretch of secluded beach. Honestly feels like no-one inhabits this land, we hardly ever see many people, not even in the towns. The only people we do see are French backpackers in station wagons at free camp spots, they come out in droves in the dark.
We were at Cape Hillsborough National Park, camping out at Smalleys Beach. Bodhi and I collected shells from the ocean floor when the tide was dead low and I made jewellery out of them, I looked like one of the cast from Survivor covered in shells. It was a really relaxed few days at Smalleys, fishing and laughing at kookaburras and long walks along the beach, as unromantic as we could make it. The water here is too beautiful just to look at but unfortunately the jellyfish and crocs love it too so we just have to sit here and watch the tides come and go.
Camp food is definitely a highlight, traveling with a chef really makes the journey more palatable. And I’m not too bad a cook either, a one pot wonder. We’re a pretty good team, me and Jacob, we take everything in turns except breakfast where Bodhi and I wait to be served like the Queen and her young Prince, issuing demands if the tea is too hot or the porridge too tepid for the tongue. Soon enough he’ll get sick of that and breakfast will be done in turns too. It’s quite challenging cooking meals in a 60cm radius especially for an experimental (messy) cook like me. Not enough space to wave the arms when splashing the mixed herbs about.