Cape Hillsborough

Daph and Ern have been super busy with work and catching up on some “us” time, concentrating on eating well, taking time for ourselves and healing from the inside out.

Mackay is just lovely. The sun has been shining every day since we arrived. Daph can wash AND DRY their clothes in three hours! And the surrounding areas are just stunning, perched on the edge of the Great Barrier Reef. Days off have been magical, visiting yet more stunning places and soaking up this beautiful world we live in.

Last week, we camped out at Cape Hillsborough National Park. Daph organised meticulously, knowing that there would be no internet reception. She downloaded maps of bushwalks and tide times to prevent getting lost or stranded. Daph chose to not tell Ern about the four-kilometre dirt track into the campsite, knowing he would stress about flat tyres and dust in the engine. Surprisingly, he took it very well. Maybe he has just resigned himself to Daph always doing this. Maybe he has done it so many times without incident that he’s more confident. Or maybe this week of meditation and self-help has truly zenned him out.

We were off-grid. No power. No showers. Freshening up with a dip in the ocean instead...

Ern: “Ummmm. Crocodiles?”

Ern did eventually follow Daph into the ocean. The water was so calm and crystal clear that Daph was confident she’d spot a croc before it ate her. Ern kept a look out anyhow.

Daph *Rolling around in the ocean, her usual mermaid self: “It’s so lovely! I can’t see any crocodiles!”

Ern: “That’s their M.O.[1] You don’t see them! Until they eat you!”

We went for a long walk on the beach and across the causeway at low tide (thanks to Daph’s research) to Wedge Island to explore the volcanic remains. The walk took us up and around the peninsula, where we saw turtles frolicking in the ocean and found a deserted beach with the softest plush-carpet-like sand, sparkling with glittery mica. The landscape equipped us with our own shady cave in the volcanic rock where Ern could protect his delicate, freckly skin from the harsh rays of the sun. Daph was in paradise as the butterflies fluttered around her head. The world is an abundance of perfection.

Daph was slightly disappointed that there were no shells to collect. Not one. No shells. No seaweed. No debris at all on the beach.

Ern: “The crocodiles have eaten everything.”

Back at the campsite, we had prime position again, backing onto another beach. Daph trotted down to the sand to check it out while Ern was setting up the camp stove for dinner. Daph excitedly runs back to Ern, holding several perfectly formed miniature shells in her hand...

Daph: “Oh my gosh! Look at this! All the shells are on THIS beach! Look at them! LOOK AT THEM!!”

Daph loves shells. And Daph LOVES all things miniature. The evening was spent lying face down on the beach, collecting more tiny shells than Daph knows what to do with.

[1] M.O. stands for “modus operandi”, a Latin phrase that translates to the method of operating. I don’t mean to patronise you if you already knew that. Truly, I explain this for my mum in case she’s not familiar with boy talk. Have you noticed how much boys like to use abbreviations like M.O. and A.S.A.P.?