Driftwood Dreams and Coffee Steam

As we bid farewell to the whimsical Pondering Frog Café, the open road beckoned once more. The familiar streets of Bicheno soon unfolded before us, a town we'd traversed many times before. This visit was brief – a quick pit stop to refuel our trusty bus, our home on wheels, before we continued our journey northward.

True to our leisurely pace, our next destination lay just a half-hour away. As we drove, memories flickered like old film reels – we passed Lagoon Beach, where just two months prior, we had celebrated Anth's birthday under an open sky. The recollection brought smiles to our faces, a reminder of the joy our nomadic life had brought us.

Our wheels soon crunched on the gravel of Little Beach State Reserve. The campsite was a hidden gem, with only one other traveler sharing this slice of paradise. We navigated to the far end of the road, seeking solitude and proximity to the ocean. Though not directly on the water's edge, we were close enough for the rhythmic crashing of waves to serve as our nightly lullaby.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as we explored our temporary home. We meandered through the campsite, our eyes scanning the ground for small twigs – nature's kindling for our trusty solo stove. There was something deeply satisfying about this simple act of foraging, connecting us to the land in a primal way.

As twilight descended, we huddled around our little stove, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the salty sea air. The night that followed was a testament to the tranquility we sought in our travels – peaceful, uneventful, punctuated only by the distant symphony of the ocean.

Morning arrived with a spectacle that took our breath away. We made the short trek to Little Beach itself, our feet sinking into the cool sand. The scene that greeted us was nothing short of magical – powerful waves crashed against the shore, their spray catching the early sunlight. As if nature decided to put on a show just for us, a sun shower began, its gentle drops creating a sparkling curtain. And there, arching across the sky, a vibrant rainbow painted the scene with its ephemeral beauty. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated wonder – the kind that makes all the challenges of life on the road worthwhile.

Reluctantly, we tore ourselves away from the breathtaking vista, returning to our bus. We packed up with practiced efficiency, our hearts light with the memory of the morning's natural spectacle. As we pulled away from Little Beach, anticipation built for our next stop – Trout Creek Reserve.

But beyond that lay a destination that held a special place in our hearts – Swimcart Beach in the Bay of Fires. We had spent a memorable week there before, and it was where we had shared precious moments with Grammy and Fran during their visit. The thought of returning to this beloved spot filled us with a warm nostalgia and eager anticipation.

As we hit the road once more, the landscape unfolding before us, we felt a deep sense of gratitude. Each short drive, each new campsite, was another chapter in our ongoing adventure. The journey to Swimcart Beach was more than just a drive – it was a pilgrimage back to a place that held cherished memories, and the promise of new ones to be made.

With Trout Creek Reserve as our next waypoint, we drove on, our spirits high and our hearts full. The rhythm of the road beneath our wheels seemed to echo the beating of our adventure-seeking hearts, carrying us forward to whatever wonders awaited us next.Meer informatie