City meets country. Literally.

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City meets country. Literally.

Enforced rest. Quiet contemplation as I sit gently swaying in my Peruvian hammock, a keepsake from a former adventure, under the gum trees. Deserved rest I should say. Yesterday, a walk down quiet Mystics Beach reaching the estuary of the Minnamurra river where a very rabble of people met our view, swimming, boating and playing. This morning an early morning stroll to the 'world-famous' surfing beach, The Farm.

This is Killalea State Park nestled on a peninsula between Minnamurra and Shellharbour. A strangely ordered and manicured campsite encroached on one side by the sprawling McMansion estate of Shell Cove. An environmental disaster of monolithic proportions. Look South, look South out to the ….range circling Kiama. It is not hard to see the volcanic crater that this must have been long before you or I were born!

A strange granite-fortified building on the crest overlooking the beach houses a small cafe. Not the most friendly of ambiances but a picture-postcard perfect view over the surfbreak which I am reliably informed seems to have substantially improved since we were down there less than half an hour ago. Maybe the way of all surfbreaks?

Exactly a week since I was pounding away at the computer trying to dot the 'i's and cross the 't's before going away. Exactly a year since we were halfway through our India trip and a exactly a year hence we will be off to England for a year.

A stupendous year. A year of sadness and a year of celebration. An emotional roller-coaster of a year leaving me drained and ready for recharging. I look at the solar panel recharging the car battery and bask in the rays.

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