Beach House

I've just come back from spending the weekend at a friend's beach house up the coast in a tiny town called Catherine Hill Bay. There is only one road running through the town and it leads to the pub. There's no supermarket and nowhere to buy a paper in the morning. Weatherboard cottages sit alongside it, some look empty, but the pub has live music on Sundays (and lingerie waitresses on Mondays...?)

The wharf is abandoned. We tried to climb down there onto it, we wanted to walk all the way to the end to watch the ships waiting to dock in Newcastle. Heather scurried under the fence and over the wire but it was all boarded up. It was dusk and the weather was closing in so we wandered back down to the house and ate chocolate cupcakes and the boys drank the better part of a bottle of whiskey called Monkey Shoulder. 

It was a great weekend.