Apologies to those who have not yet been able to decipher the location of this weekend away but I was strictly told to keep this special place a secret. All I can say is drive south along the coast from Adelaide city, continue along the 130km long Coorong coastline, pass our giant lobster friend Larry in Kingston, through the bourgeois streets of Robe with its fashion shops and trendy restaurants, until you reach its unassuming little sister. The youngest that slipped through the nets of parenting and boldly decided to embark on a quiet nature-filled life by the sea.

 

Traditionally only occupied by fishermen and wealthy farmers keen to keep one foot in the sea and one in the mud, this little fishing town was once just a stretch of coast surrounded by undulating sand dunes, clear blue bays, and more Southern Rock lobsters than people (known locally as crayfish). Even today, it is primarily inhabited by fishermen, interspersed with a few other families keen to get away and re-connect with what South Australia truly is. Or perhaps just a few intrepid pescatarians with a quenchless thirst for early morning cold water swimming!? Relationships and socialising are at the heart of this quaint little secret. You stop to have a chat with your local mechanic and plumber on the road, invite and be invited for drinks on various balconies, enjoy BBQs on the beach, play beach cricket, and enjoy New Year’s celebrations on the beach with extended family and an equal amount of food.

 

Anyhow, being encircled by a Conservation Park, this little hideaway remains safely buffered from the common perils of urbanisation, gentrification, and population sprawl. Just when you think it can’t possibly get any cuter, nestled in amongst this Conservation Park, lies a lake saltier than the sea; the perfect nurturing ground for young hard-core Aussie children learning to swim, too hardcore for arm bands and instead opt for the, quite literally, ‘straight in the deep-end approach’. We are no fragile Victorian, but authentic South Australian thank you very much!

 

The sand dunes running parallel to the sea have since grown out with low shrubs and bushes, dappled with small yellow flowers as spring bursts life into the region. The terrain teases and tests one’s curiosity, but I urge you to resist the temptation to overturn a rock for fear of disrupting a tiger or brown snake from its slumber, smirking savagely at you behind its simmering venom. It’s a no thanks from me. But, if you do survive this encounter (no promises), you might be rewarded with a lumbering wombat or, even more fascinating, an echidna (no, not enchilada); the only living mammal to lay eggs!

 

Almost there now. Carving through this area is a single road, known as the Bowman Scenic Drive, arguably the perfect location for the latest 4-wheel drive car advert. It leads proudly to its main street encompassing one (highly criticised) bakery, one “up and coming” pub, one convenience shop, a couple of nick-nack shops, and a pizza/fish and chips shop (interesting combination I know) - the owner of which is the latest gossip of the town… Everything one could possibly need! And the final piece, encircling this hub of activity resides the typical one-storey slate houses designed to keep out the heat and harsh winds. A few higher houses along the seafront sit on stilts, able to steal a wink at the bay and small fishing boats heading out to catch local crayfish, whiting, and velvet crabs.

 

Stepping off my bus, I immediately smelt the salty ocean aroma and tried my best to absorb as much of the precious iodine carried in the wind as possible. A woman I was sure I had never met before called out “Rosanna” with a large, kind smile and wave. I squinted, perhaps New Zealand had changed Leonore over the past two weeks!? Getting closer, I realised this was not the case, but decided to go with it nevertheless; when in Aussie-land *insert emoji with tongue hanging out*. We greeted and it was established that this was in fact D’Arcy’s sister, Pam. A lovely woman who I later came to learn perfectly balances her time staying well informed regarding local town news whilst maintaining an impressive garden of fruit trees. D’Arcy and Leonore arrived just moments later, very upset they had missed my actual arrival, but as vibrant and energetic as always. A delightful couple with hearts tied since teens, and an admirable devotion to their children and grandchildren. They divide their time between Adelaide CBD and ‘a crept hob’, D’Arcy growing up with a strong love for fishing, farming, and all things country. As they say, the man may leave the country, but the country never leaves the man. I was invited back to their cosy beachfront home for, as usual, a delicious lunch that Leonore claims to just be “thrown together; nothing at all really!” on their balcony overlooking the ocean.

 

The afternoon was spent doing some remote work, followed by a walk along ‘Magic Beach’ with Leonore and Max, the impeccably behaved and adorably disciplined chocolate Labrador. Also known as ‘D’Arcy’s obedient and devoted side-kick’. Magic indeed. That evening we went for a fresh seafood dinner at the local pub, happily accompanied by a bottle of crisp ‘Wild Game’ Riesling and followed by mango with Leonore’s infamous salted caramel ice cream á la Nigella. A real party winner which I have thoroughly enjoyed on multiple occasions with the Stratfords. Belly full, I slept soundly to the waves gently brushing the shore outside.

 

The next morning, I woke to find Leonore and D’Arcy up and about eating breakfast overlooking the bay, various different newspapers in hand as they caught up on worldly news. I was clearly already behind both physically and mentally so headed out for a beautiful coastal run before we departed for the Coonawarra wine region to visit their Block. Quickly, a few pieces of terminology we should address:

 

Block = an Australian term for a small agricultural landholding, NOT to be confused for a ‘station’

 

Station = an Australian term for a large land holding for livestock production, NOT to be confused for a 'block' (serious)

 

We cruised along the winding roads that slice through the green Coonawarra vineyards, unfairly outshined by the bright red roses that line them. Looking out of the window I could see how each vine had begun sprouting life into each and every tiny grape that clung on. They patiently await the sun’s nurturing rays before igniting into the rich flavours of the Cabernet Sauvignon wines that embody the ‘terra rossa’ soil. We passed through Penola, turning off onto a gravel track surrounded by giant red gum eucalyptus trees that dominate the fall landscape, their toes tickled by growing bleached yellow-green grasses. The little yellow flowers stretch through smiling in their stride as we entered their block, stopping to hear the latest updates on lamb stock and quality from their neighbour.  The block itself is small and quaint with an almost Nordic style interior displaying warm character and charisma, whilst maintaining a humble modesty. The style artistically weaves together a layered kaleidoscope of orange/red/brown tones from the soft brown of the timber walls, the red orange brush strokes of abstract paintings, the deep brown handcrafted Mulga wood coffee table, to the black of the wood burning stove. Encircling this cabin, built by D'Arcy and his son, is a ring of budding fruit trees ready to sprout in the coming years; just imagine this spot in 10 years’ time! After a quick tour, we settled down to a delicious lunch of various salads, cheeses, and fresh fruits, enjoying the calm serenity of being in the wild.

 

That afternoon Mary, Guy, and Matilda (D’Arcy and Leonore’s daughter-in-law, son, and granddaughter) popped over for tea and homemade biscuits (á la baking magazine this time I believe). After being told so much about them and their successful winery, ‘Wild Game’, it was great to meet the family and hear all about their work. Later that evening we headed back to the coast, picking up some fresh fish and chips (crumbed NOT battered ofc) en route to munch on over some interesting conversation, before the encroaching yawns begged us to sleep.

 

The next day was one of those upbeat days that bounce along merrily in your stride; I remember feeling very content and just truly happy to be in such a beautiful peaceful place with such easy and lovely company. We hunted for some fresh local crayfish (remember what that was!?) and popped by the bakery for some bread and pastries in preparation for our special lunch banquet! After this, I enjoyed a blustery energising walk along the beach with Max, giving me a chance to respond to some voicenotes from friends and family, reassuring them that I have not been kidnapped to some remote fishing village, but am here out of choice! Once back, D’Arcy gave me a highly professional tutorial on how to properly clean and prepare crayfish (dm for access at a negotiable fee $$). Guy, Mary, and Matilda joined us to enjoy the delicious banquet of lobster, mango salad, bread, cheese, and pastries, before we all settled down, whispering pleading apologies at our overloaded stomachs. That evening was spent lazily in front of Chef’s Table (Dario Cecchini episode of course!), and we enjoyed the much-needed rest!

 

The final morning hit hard and early with my 6:45am alarm jolting me into action. Nothing screams “SWIM TIME” more than whistling winds and drizzling skies and besides, what fun to do a Stacey Dooley and experience the “true local culture”! Leonore accompanied me to the sea, shivering and looking at me with wide open eyes and a painful smile that depicted both horror and pity. I hurriedly stripped to my bikini, secretly wishing it was a thick wetsuit, met Wendy who kindly gave me a swimming cap, goggles, and introduced me to the clan of elegant, retired ladies. They all seemed excited to have a new, young English girl join but clearly wondered what she was doing here at 7am on a Sunday and whether I was really cut out for this. We splashed into the water wearing brave smiles (or clenched jaws? You decide) and marvelled in the lovely sensation of numb limbs and cardiac overdrive. I was happily swimming, feeling alive and free, grateful to have hit the sea this morning until I realised the clan like to swim out to 500m… My head quickly calculated that this would increase your chance of being eaten by a shark by approximately 5000000x so I instead sensibly settled on 200m. That’s good for me thanks. However, I had not considered the exponential risk of being 200m out at sea alone, rather than 500m out with a group of other seal look-alikes. Suddenly the choppy waves were less inviting and each crest resembled a dorsal. The rest of the swim back to shore is blurry and I’d rather not re-live this experience, so all I will say is that even Michael Phelps would be impressed by the pace at which I hit the shore.

 

Once back safe and sound at the house, Leonore cooked me up some scrambled eggs and coffee to warm me up and I just felt #blessedtobealive. That morning D’Arcy took me on a short drive along the coast to see the nearby shell Midden which contain the remains of shellfish eaten by Aboriginal peoples in the area. It was on a sheer edge of a cliff with the threatening waves crashing beneath; an impressive site. The rest of the morning we cleaned and sorted the house before hitting the road with a tasty lunch of fresh King George Whiting fish; a notch up on M&S meal deal I’d say! Before we knew it, we had returned to Adelaide, instantly swallowed up by the city tide in preparation for the work week ahead.

 

P.S. For those unable to solve the anagram, the answer is ‘Beachport’. Also, do yourself a favour and go buy yourself an anagram book at an airport WHSmith.