This past weekend I went down to Waihi Beach to check on the state of the family bach, which I haven't visited in over a year. It looked like the pic above. Surrounding it on all sides, carefully mowed plots with people living on them, and then this neglected bach. What a lot of memories it stirred up. Mostly ones to do with Dad, for whom the bach was his hobby. I thought of him many times, aware that he had gone only a year ago. We children spent many summers playing sneaks in the long lupins on the left of the section, before it was developed, and wandering down to the inlet behind to get muddy and scratched in the marsh grass.
Nothing much has changed in all those years on the inside either. Each one of the cupboards and appliances was brought down separately on the trailer, to our great delight, and installed. Uncle Murray lay the coloured lino blocks.
Going for my regular long wistful walk along the beach toward Bowentown, I came across (or rather, they came across me) these horses enjoying the surf.
And a trip to the beach would not be complete without some fish and chips eaten within metres of the sea, with the obligatory seagulls waiting for their handout.