The food best suited for this particular soul is found in the Far North. I really must go there at least once a year to feed my spirit. Or maybe it is not so much to feed it as to release it.
As I waited at the airport for GB to arrive, a man asked was I meeting someone or going somewhere. I said I was going somewhere as soon as I met my friend, heading north to Houhora. "What's at Houhora?" he asked. I did the goldfish thing, opening and closing my mouth a few times, wondering how could anyone ask such a silly question. Then blurted out, "Beauty. Simplicity. Fresh air." What he really meant was where do you stay when you go to Houhora, a much more sensible question as places of accommodation this far north are few and far between.
I'd found a modest little cottage in an absolutely beautiful setting for us to stay. That's it, the cute little place to the left of the phoenix palm that stood between us and the harbour.
The beautiful Houhora Harbour:
And only 10 minutes from the west coast and 90 Mile Beach - beautiful, unspoiled, isolated. The day was warm and clear but visibility wasn't good. Pop back in time to here if you'd like to read some history of the beach and its real length.
The very first time I visited a light truck came out of the long grass beside the road. This time it was a magnificent black bull. He eyed us as he marched on past us, he knew where he was going and wasn't about to take a different track because of us intruders.
Some may remember this shot taken last winter from the top of Utea Pa overlooking the beach.
I returned there for my summer equivalent:
A great place to lay in the grass and feel the magic of the north wash over you.