Well, that’s how I was feeling in the late afternoon after leaving Sale. The last three days had gone smoothly, parking myself discreetly just off the highway about 9klm’s from town. The car battery had been suffering terminal lethargy for several months, bravely soldiering on with the occasional help from our jump starter pak. But last rites were on the cards, so a brand new Century AGM hit the credit card. Still, left Sale, relaxed with all essentials covered and headed for Ninety Mile Beach.
The seaside villages of Diamond Beach and Seaspray bookend a sliver of coastline with a scattering of “campgrounds” along the aptly named Shoreline Drive. Encouraged by the sight of vans in the first few, I drove on looking for a vacant campground. Camp 7 was signposted on my left. Normally I’d park and check, but with nowhere to pull, over and based on previous indicators, turned in.
Imagine, if you will, a giant Venus fly-trap, it’s sweet nectar, the ‘promise’ of a sheltered spot, a dune behind the beach. Sweet enough to lure me in despite the narrowing track…oh the folly. There WAS a site at the end of the track, but to mix the metaphors, it was fools gold. Too small, too tight. I could feel the trap closing. I’m not sure how I managed to escape…we’re talking centimetres either side. Clearly I’d come to rely on my ‘Jiminy Cricket’ counselling caution in these situations. I had no choice but to give myself a bitch slappin’ when back on safe ground and continued my search.
Now, EVERY camp ground option looked treacherous, but just as the sun started dipping, a large and importantly treeless area appeared at Glomar Beach. Grabbed it and fortuitously, a short walk to the beach late in the afternoon, captured the magic moment you see at the top of this story.
She sells seashells….. With a stiff breeze blowing along the beach, long walks we’re the only realistic option. It’s early November and struggling to get to 15C. Just for a change, you’re looking down like a scavenger, not scouring the landscape for a photo op (and to keep the wind blown sand out of your eyes). Didn’t take long to notice the different shells and colours at my feet and soon I was heading back to the van with a clutch of shapes and variations. Normally, its “you’ve seen one seashell you’ve seen ’em all”, but there must have been a novelty factor somewhere, as I can’t recall seeing them for many months.
I had believed that Glomar Beach would be my home for a week, but a polite knock on the van door and a ‘chat’ with two National Parks officers, meant a change of venue (even though it was un-signposted). They reassured me that Campground 9 was a safe option, but I took the precaution of Jeeping it down to check it our myself. On occasions like this, you have to imagine the van behind you, especially turning into entrances. I did the loop around the camp twice and there WAS a perfect spot to set up shop. It was lunchtime on a Friday coming into a long weekend, and I didn’t waste any time getting back to claim it.
As it turned out, the new digs were even better. So ‘betterer’ in fact, that I’m putting this is on my short list for Xmas -New Years. While, now closer to Diamond Beach, Seaspray, apart as well as a cafe/takeaway store, has the one thing every free camper needs – a tap. As a package deal, I can refill my 10 litre containers, empty the rubbish and grab a real coffee. It must be a popular destination. The caravan park looked like a sales yard that weekend, and the beach, normally deserted had a decent smattering of holiday makers.
It was pretty busy back at camp to. Spaces were limited and the groans of the late comers peppered the late afternoon and into the night, as they kerb crawled through the camp ground looking for a site to show them a good time. The wind still had a bite to it and there’s no place to hide on the beach. I can only guess at the water temperature. Despite all the holiday makers, no-one was making a splash, a few likely lads content to re-create our World Cup victory over England.
A few more days here, then heading west to explore locations closer to Wilsons Promontory before looping back to Bairnsdale, ahead of the summer madness when all those ‘lemmings’ head for the coast.
