After climbing Mount Hassell, we have a punishing 200km drive to our next camp site at Peaceful Bay. I am exhausted. On arrival at the site I have a nap in the back of the van, waking up to find a pair of ducklings have come to visit. There is a sweet smell in the air, I wonder if it is the peppermint trees.

We pick up a copy of the local paper, apparently “nothing is sacred for young thieves” – local youths are stealing tie-dye t-shirts. Point-of-lay chickens will be arriving on Saturday.

I pop to use the facilities and believe that there must be an “if it’s yellow, let it mellow” policy here to save the water. My theory is flushed down the drain when more yellow “fresh” water falls out out of the cistern. The water at the taps is the same. I’m glad we filled up our 15litre bottle at the posh camp site yesterday.

We have fish and chips for tea, “king fish”, it’s meatier than cod, but quite nice.

There is a slight chill in the air, so I get wrapped up in the duvet and read “Stars” a short story in Tove Jansson’s Fair Play about a man who says he wants to sleep under the stars on a remote island, he allows work commitments to get in the way.

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