A perfect last hurrah

In weird symmetry with New Zealand, our final stop was in a stunning Akaroa-esque secluded bay surrounded by unspoilt green hills. We'd been given a tip by the skipper of our Port Macquarie river boat trip (we thought he'd said Shell Bay, or Shale Bay, but couldn't find those - Kevin finally worked out it was Shoal Bay), so with no better ideas, and as it was about the right distance, we went there.

And we were delighted we had. The first campsite was full (another Akaroa similarity); but the second had spaces, just across the road from glorious Shoal Beach: another curve of soft light yellow sand, that sloped fairly steeply down to relatively calm turquoise sea (you could see the big waves crashing through the narrow entrance to the bay, but for once they were not near the shore), with pretty fringing green hills. The sun was out, the wind had gone: it was absolutely glorious. I read Bill Bryson Down Under (great relevant chuckles) on the sand while Kevin and Jemima played; had a wonderful swim; and we all happily whiled away the afternoon - if we could have stayed here, doing this, for another week, we would have. But all good things must come to an end: the sun went down, and we trailed sand back to the motorhome feeling very content.

A shower, a walk down the road later, and we were sat in a Thai restaurant, still enjoying a spectacular view as the moon rose over the bay. Lovely food on a lovely final night in a lovely place. And it's all over tomorrow.

 

 

 

Port Macquarie to Shoal Bay: