I drove up to the beach yesterday with Mum and Nana. When I say drove, I mean sat in the back thinking Mum was going to drive head first into trucks because I am still a bit disoriented on the road. ‘Renew licence’ and ‘practice drive’ are on the list. Along with, you know, everything else.

 

Macmasters Beach on NSW’s Central Coast is one of my favourite places in the world. It could be because it comes attached to so many happy memories from when I was a little kid and we spent much of our summer holidays up there, or from the past ten years where we’ve gathered as a family for a couple of weeks after Christmas, every year, eating fish and chips on the balcony and watching movies in the tiny old Avoca cinema.

 

I spent time up there writing my MA project as well, time with my Nana who would make me a sandwich with salad cream at the same time everyday and then knock on my door and see if I fancied an afternoon Muscato.

 

Macmasters has always been and will always be a happy place for me, which is why going up there for a few hours, a few days after getting back here, was a little balm for the soul. I sat with Nan and we drank tea and ate homemade date loaf and chatted about the Olympics and the royal family. I went for a walk on yellow sand and got my boots sandy.

 

It was good.