We arose before the sparrows had even given into flatulent urges – Dave coughing his guts up in an early and shameless attempt to claim the Crookest Camper Award. We filled up our water bottles at the nearby creek and then began our journey to Little Ramsey.
We had chosen to add an extra day or two into the walk and this meant we were on a fairly short leg. Along the way Paul kept us well up to date with all the different birdlife in the area. He really was a font of knowledge and this added to the whole experience. There were eastern robins, bee eaters, brahminy kites and other assorted birdlife. He did admit to having gaps in his knowledge, though they weren’t apparent (apart from a reference to something like the lesser spotted Furtwangler, which I suspect lived only in Paul’s imagination – damn fine plumage though).
As the novice walker I was really trying not to look a complete tool, coupled with the fact that I’m nearly as far from practical as Tony Abbott is from winning a popularity contest, meant that I was up against it. So what should I do along this leg of the walk? Lose a damn drink bottle. This is really poor form and it wasn’t helped by the fact that one of my other drink bottles leaked like Julian Assange. Yep – tool central.
Anyway, Little Ramsey was a beautiful location. Sprawling beach, good campsite, lagoon, fresh water stream. After we had set up camp, had a meal (cheese, crackers, some form of meat – a fare that we had yet to tire of – that day would come later) we set out to explore. At some stage during this time a young couple walked into camp from the north.
We had chosen to add an extra day or two into the walk and this meant we were on a fairly short leg. Along the way Paul kept us well up to date with all the different birdlife in the area. He really was a font of knowledge and this added to the whole experience. There were eastern robins, bee eaters, brahminy kites and other assorted birdlife. He did admit to having gaps in his knowledge, though they weren’t apparent (apart from a reference to something like the lesser spotted Furtwangler, which I suspect lived only in Paul’s imagination – damn fine plumage though).
As the novice walker I was really trying not to look a complete tool, coupled with the fact that I’m nearly as far from practical as Tony Abbott is from winning a popularity contest, meant that I was up against it. So what should I do along this leg of the walk? Lose a damn drink bottle. This is really poor form and it wasn’t helped by the fact that one of my other drink bottles leaked like Julian Assange. Yep – tool central.
Anyway, Little Ramsey was a beautiful location. Sprawling beach, good campsite, lagoon, fresh water stream. After we had set up camp, had a meal (cheese, crackers, some form of meat – a fare that we had yet to tire of – that day would come later) we set out to explore. At some stage during this time a young couple walked into camp from the north.
We were deeply impressed to note that the woman seemed to be carrying the bulk of the camping gear. This, we realised, was one of things lacking in our preparation. We’d packed camping gear aplenty and more food than can possibly pass through the human body in a month – yet nobody had though to bring along a Sherpa – especially a young female Sherpa. This would definitely be reviewed before our next walk.
Chatting with them revealed that they were taking turns with the big backpack and that they were on a much tighter walking schedule than us. They were a really likeable couple and we’d strike up a friendship with them.
A little while later another really pleasant couple also walked into the camp and they turned out to be good company as well. Better still – they had found my drink bottle – woo hoo. A slight redemption on the tooledness front.
A group of young men – 6 in total – also drifted through, heading further south for the night. More on them later.
That afternoon we toyed with fishing, Dave in the lagoon – me on the beach. The beach did provide some healthy bites, but no fish – BUT it offered far more than that. As I was casting out into a fairly small pool – open to the sea but largely surrounded by rocks – a turtle popped its head out of the water. Peter was nearby and I called him over. Sure enough we both spotted the turtle – but in a slightly different location. Moments later, another head appeared and we realised that there were two green turtles in this small pool. Curious, we watched the turtles come face-to-face. There followed some intriguing flipper-waving and then they either had a disagreement or made love – things were a bit unclear on this front (much the same for people when you think about it).
We ran back and called the others – Dave, Paul, the two other couples- and all managed to spot the turtles. That was one of the highlights of the trip.
We also took the time to write a message on the beach to the elusive Mike. This amused the other campers who had to wonder who-the-Hell Mike was. I shared their doubt.
I must mention the eating arrangements. I had packed standard dried food – not necessarily appetising but effective. Dave and Peter had not. They had bought herbs and spices, oils and freeze-dried, home-cooked mince. Peter even had two cookers running!! Admittedly they were having to carry what looked like their own body weight in food, but they certainly ate well. As I consumed my commercially bought, dried and reconstituted thai curry chicken I watched them with envy. Would this lead to some sort of Lord of the Flies moment later in the walk? Only time would tell.
We settled down for the night, reflecting on a perfect day, with the only downside being a total lack of coconuts.
Chatting with them revealed that they were taking turns with the big backpack and that they were on a much tighter walking schedule than us. They were a really likeable couple and we’d strike up a friendship with them.
A little while later another really pleasant couple also walked into the camp and they turned out to be good company as well. Better still – they had found my drink bottle – woo hoo. A slight redemption on the tooledness front.
A group of young men – 6 in total – also drifted through, heading further south for the night. More on them later.
That afternoon we toyed with fishing, Dave in the lagoon – me on the beach. The beach did provide some healthy bites, but no fish – BUT it offered far more than that. As I was casting out into a fairly small pool – open to the sea but largely surrounded by rocks – a turtle popped its head out of the water. Peter was nearby and I called him over. Sure enough we both spotted the turtle – but in a slightly different location. Moments later, another head appeared and we realised that there were two green turtles in this small pool. Curious, we watched the turtles come face-to-face. There followed some intriguing flipper-waving and then they either had a disagreement or made love – things were a bit unclear on this front (much the same for people when you think about it).
We ran back and called the others – Dave, Paul, the two other couples- and all managed to spot the turtles. That was one of the highlights of the trip.
We also took the time to write a message on the beach to the elusive Mike. This amused the other campers who had to wonder who-the-Hell Mike was. I shared their doubt.
I must mention the eating arrangements. I had packed standard dried food – not necessarily appetising but effective. Dave and Peter had not. They had bought herbs and spices, oils and freeze-dried, home-cooked mince. Peter even had two cookers running!! Admittedly they were having to carry what looked like their own body weight in food, but they certainly ate well. As I consumed my commercially bought, dried and reconstituted thai curry chicken I watched them with envy. Would this lead to some sort of Lord of the Flies moment later in the walk? Only time would tell.
We settled down for the night, reflecting on a perfect day, with the only downside being a total lack of coconuts.