There is something so special about swapping ceiling lights for stars. Falling asleep to the crash of the ocean and whoosh of the wind blowing through the trees. Makes me wonder why we don't do it more often. Now we are home, after five glorious days of camping by the seashore with happy, grubby children, I always feel a little wistful on returning that we don't actually live in a humpy by the sea.
There is always good cheese on trips to Bruny, and a friend who provides his home made bacon, because let's be honest, no meal on a camping trip is complete without bacon.
Days were spent with good friends drinking good coffee, fishing, swimming and cooking smokey feasts over a campfire, along with plenty of doing nothing of course.
Just staring out at the sea, cares melting away, and wondering how exactly I could wrangle a life in a humpy. Or at least maybe start up a crab shack. Only open on Sundays of course. I'd be too busy doing nothing on the other days.