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Back at the camp



Towards the end of the week back at the camp the little houses were beginning to fill up with old folk with grandchildren it tow.  The paths started to come alive with pedal powered vehicles.  The windows lit up with Christmas glitter.  The season was starting just as we were bidding this lovely spot good bye.

Comments

  1. What great colors - I like how the house has matching flowers. Feels like vacation to me :)

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  2. Cute cabins and patterns. Where are they?

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  3. Diane, same place as before ... Bermagui on the south coast.

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  4. Yes, it is a lovely little spot, is Bermagui. These little cabins are typical of what is springing up in caravan parks all along the NSW coastline. For people who do not like pulling a van I guess. Although the expense is a bit more.

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  5. Yep they are springing up everywhere and usually grabbing all the waterside spots so the real campers get a lovely view of their walls.

    It certainly is much more expensive than towing a van but as they have cooking facilities better than a motel room.

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The end

I retire from the workforce this week and to celebrate have decided to retire my current blogs and start afresh with a single consolidated blog -  My Bright Field  - to record the delights of my new life adventure. If you are interested follow me over there.  I will still be Sweet Wayfaring and collecting Royal Hotels.  The delights I discover along the way will appear together with my gardens and towns where I live.

But then the grey clouds gather

Mostly there was sunshine but sometimes rain. The long drought is still too close a memory for us to not welcome rain even on holiday. We are still at Shellharbour here, you can see the steelworks at Port Kembla in the distance. Musing: From The Storm by Theodore Roethke "Along the sea-wall, a steady sloshing of the swell, The waves not yet high, but even, Coming closer and closer upon each other; A fine fume of rain driving in from the sea, Riddling the sand, like a wide spray of buckshot, The wind from the sea and the wind from the mountain contending, Flicking the foam from the whitecaps straight upward into the darkness."