The camping cherry has been popped! Our kick arse Black Wolf 12 man tent has been christened!
Most importantly, we survived!
And despite my ramblings last week, we didn’t go completely “wild”
There was running water, electricity, public toilets, showers and BBQ’s. (Cheating!)
But hey, packing nothing more than half a sandwich bag for toiletries deserves virtual high fives all around, yes?
A collective “woohoo” at least?
Finally arriving at the camp ground, of course we got into a heated debate about which way the tent should be pitched.
Despite eventually letting Mr Surfer have his way, I quickly discovered that our respective egos would hinder us getting through a round of “Survivor”.
The twinions were completely wired – jumping on the air mattresses, looking out into the stars – our little fort didn’t turn in until 11pm.
Then somewhere around bright moon rising and possums stirring, Mr Surfer’s air mattress deflated and I wound up with two squiggly bodies on my bed. Arms and limbs everywhere.
The lack of sleep didn’t make a lick of difference to how breathtaking One Mile Beach is.
Back in the day of no children, we spent a romantic long weekend in the same place.
Funny how having children changes the dynamics completely.
The love is still there, though.
One Mile Beach Caravan Park is situated right behind the beach and is an ideal family get away.
With the Tomaree National Park close by, we had a few wildlife visitors drop by, including this massive mofo.
The problem with a weekend that’s close to perfect are the inevitable meltdowns encountered when time to depart.
K-Bear cried incessantly as we drove out of the complex. He left his heart at the pool with the slide.
Of course, there’s camping hangover to contend with – the exhaustion of packing up (that bloody tent!), an aching body crying for a proper bed and a long warm bath.
But being in the outdoors is addictive.
No doubt we’ll be back.
Joining Essentially Jess for #IBOT