In a year that pretty much hasn’t been * – no holidays, no travel, no long lazy days spent wandering from bed to beach to couch with a book in hand, the concept of a beach holiday seems pretty much as far removed from reality as can be.
*Yep, even I take umbrage at this. 2020 has been a year of PLENTY for many reasons, but I’d like to shove those reasons as far down the back of the couch cushions as possible heading into the festive season and pretend just for a bit that a lack of beach holidays has been as bad as it got this year. OK, as you were.
As I sat at my computer trying to dredge up some inspiration to write, I remembered all the half-formed blog posts I had stowed away. Ideas thrown on the screen to be written up properly at a later date when the words flowed a bit more fluidly and I had more time to dedicate. to it And then I laughed and laughed and laughed because anyone with a young toddler in the house knows that excess time simply doesn’t exist. Nevertheless, flicking through photos from our last beach holiday at Angourie seemed like a much more pleasant way to spend a spare 10 minutes than attempting to flesh out freelance pitches that I wasn’t sure I really had the mental space to fulfil for a few more months (insert more internal laughter here. Perhaps I’ll come back to them later).
But back to the beach. A few years ago we had the beginnings of a beautiful annual tradition with Steve’s family, when we’d all pile into a house for a week before Christmas. It was noisy and it was crowded and we’d leave with completely exhausted children, but man it was fun. Plus, beach.
When we packed up almost 12 months ago we were talking about making the Angourie holiday an annual one. But then 2020 hit. So instead I trawled through the few meagre photos I have and wished we were going again. Side note, as much as I like ditching my phone during holidays, I really should get a proper camera so I can capture all the memories. Or, I could just be in the moment.
Anyway, here’s Angourie. It’s pretty fantastic.