Jen undertook a hurried game of luggage tetris after Lily returned from a Sunday morning outing with the WPL (1-1 against the South Wallsend Wolves for the record).

Stuff about to be crammed into the CX-5.

Our destination plugged into the GPS (whom we named Dolores), we promptly turned left instead of the recommended right (a feminine Irish-accented sigh coming from the GPS). Josh asked earnestly about 10 minutes into the 4 hour journey whether we’d be arriving at Kiama soon…

Instead of taking the tollways to the west of Sydney, Jen felt we might save some time weaving past Homebush Bay. Instead, we got to experience the joys of not one but two traffic blocking bingles (handy hint: Sydney drivers appear to view merging with another lane as a bloodsport). We survived this, a FWD with immensely squeaky brakes (the tortured vehicle kept pulling level with us during said traffic jam) as well as a novel-reading young lady in a fancy BMW, complete with enormous Hello Kitty decals and fluffy toys bestrewn across her dashboard.

Hamish admitting to Josh that Wollongong
was not in fact Kiama.

On the lookout for more Hello Kitty vehicles.

The vistas took a turn for the picturesque as we left Wollongong behind, with sweeping beaches abutting farmland. Our destination was Surf Beach caravan park, perched on a headland between a couple of genuinely pretty beaches. We avoided one lady who was strutting about the park with a proprietorial air (labelled Camp Boss by Lily) and unpacked our things. The cabin we’d be calling home for the next few days appeared to be more spacious than our Newcastle residence.

Our shanty by the sea.

We made a quick trip down a goat track with a handrail to one of the nearby beaches, before setting off to the town proper and picking up some obligatory fish and chips.

Kendall Beach - just a short stumble down a cliff away.

Martin kiddies glad to be set loose on the South Coast.