My girls have gone from being tiny babies cosseted under beach umbrellas, to digging mermaid castles in the sand, to yahooing on rented boogie boards in the shallow surf. And this year, my eldest has been with friends, roaming slightly further afield for burgers and chips, and shopping for anklets and T-shirts with logos I don’t understand.
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We’ve all come a long way but the comfortable rhythms of the same rental unit – with its old leather couch, dodgy Wi-Fi and view over the river – slows us all down. It’s the holiday we need. There’s no cooking for a week as we eat takeaway (the best beer-battered fish and chips and crumbed calamari) or eat an early dinner at one of the beachside cafes, a glass of rosé or an Aperol spritz completing the holiday happy hour for me while my girls sip mocktails of watermelon and mint. Dessert will be chosen from numerous flavours of ice-cream, devoured while we walk along the boardwalk.
And even though it’s not a shiny, brand-new adventure, travelling to where and what we know has been good for our souls. Yes, the world has shrunk. But, for now, our hearts are just as full.
This article appears in Sunday Life magazine within the Sun-Herald and the Sunday Age on sale May 23. To read more from Sunday Life, visit The Sydney Morning Herald and The Age.
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