Jumping pillow vs view

We waved a fond farewell to Byron Bay this morning, and continued our journey south with a detour through what they call "the Hinterland", i.e. inland a bit from the populated coast. Apparently this is to where the original Byron hippies have retreated, having been priced out of the Bay. It was a beautiful landscape of undulating green farmed hills, a bit like the Banks Peninsula, and not at all how I pictured Australia. 

But then we got back onto the main Pacific Highway, and the normal landscape reappeared: banana and sugarcane plantations among large stretches of scrubby plain, intersected by wide rivers, and interspersed with eucalyptus forests. These are so pretty, with their pale bark catching the dappled sunlight through the high up puffs of pointed leaves, dancing at the top of slender trunks. There are so many minor variations of shape and size (over 700 different species apparently), but their common features make them all so elegant, especially in their wide-spaced groves (disloyally, I prefer them to English woods).

We had a vague destination in mind, but as we were driving, signs to Yamba kept cropping up. A brief consultation of the Lonely Planet intrigued, so we turned off. Yamba sits among islands at the mouth of an estuary, and we found a campsite right on the river, walking distance to the beach. We walked up a very steep hill for a cliff top pub lunch with a great view over the wild waves, surfers, and a pod of dolphins frolicking near the beach, which was very exciting. Afterwards we wandered through Yamba, a friendly little town, and had a coffee in a lovely little whole foods-style cafe, and a gelato, before wandering back to the motorhome. 

And there was the conundrum: what next. It was mid-afternoon; the campsite didn't really offer any diversions; nor did the rest of Yamba, as it was too cold and windy for their main offerings: the river, beach or pool (our jumpers were out for the first time in weeks). And to be honest, this afternoon I was finding my capacity to entertain Jemima stretched very thin - we've had an amazingly harmonious family time so far; but I'd just hit a brick wall, and my patience was non-existent. So Kevin, wonderfully, suggested packing up and moving on to somewhere a bit more Jemima-friendly.

Two hours later we were in Coffs Harbour. We drove into the campsite past the lagoon swimming pool and two playgrounds, and I knew it was all going to be alright. Straight to the jumping pillow, and I drank tea and chatted to two lovely Australian mums while Jemima had a whale of a time with their 7 year old girls ("your daughter is hilarious!", one came to tell me); and Kevin had an explore of the beach. The location was less picturesque than Yamba; but the facilities were much more what we needed. Sometimes a jumping pillow beats a view...