Today's entry I have interpreted as Favourite Fellow Traveler's.
My favourite fellow traveler would have to be my husband of 26 years Pete. It is so nice when we get to do something by ourselves. No kids to please, nobody else's ideas to cater to.
Yes, selfish in a way, I know. It doesn't happen very often that we get to travel anywhere by ourselves but it is special when we do. Possibly happens only twice a year.
I know all the cliches, like spending quality time together etc. I don't really plan to do that, our trips away are usually short breaks away for a specific reason like a Dr's appointment or whatever. The outcome usually does result in that though.
One of the favourite trips away we had was about 2 years ago. We took a few days off to go to the coast together. We stayed in a caravan park in Narooma ion the south coast of N.S.W. Trips from inland eastern Australia to the coast always involve crossing the great dividing range so you go from farmlands across the mountains, down the escarpment, through dairy country and patches of rain forest then finally hit the south coast. On that trip it was just the two of us, zooming along on the top of the world, singing to old 70's songs on the radio and loving the changes in scenery along the way. Our children would cringe at the music and our singing. Ha.
The dry farmland flashes by. Becoming increasingly hilly . Past Blowering dam. Up Talbingo mountain. Through the low, twisted snow gum forest to the almost treeless plains between Kiandra and Cooma, full of summer wildflowers. Stopped to peer down at a stream full of a group of brown trout swimming in a pond left under a bridge. Then the thick rainforest pockets on the eastern side of the escarpment, gorgeous big fern trees, and a few quick glimpses beyond the top to see a blue ocean in the distance. Then more steep, winding, mountain pass road that opens up into lush green dairy country. The gorgeous tall gum forests of the south coast and finally the salty perfume of the ocean. The sand between my toes and salty water rushing against my legs. A feast for the senses.