It was on a little beach far, far from the nearest road in deepest, darkest Nth QLD that I had discovered while browsing the coastline in Google Earth.
The beach was inset back into a cutting in the rock, no more than 200mtrs wide, with tropical trees overhanging the towering rock buttresses at either side.
I had concealed my landcruiser in the jungle some 9km away and hiked into the coastal rainforest with just a backpack, tent and machete.
The canopy was so dense that it was eternal twilight at ground level. As I hiked through the undercover, Birds, snakes and animals of a dazzling variety of brilliant colours scurried off here and there after staring in amazement at their first human encounter.
I finally broke out of the tangle of clinging vegetation into bright sunlight and pristine golden sand.
It was worth the torn shirt and effort to get there, just to glaze at the glistening jewelled sea with it's majestically rolling waves marching in from the Pacific ocean, sliding over and finally sighing gently onto the untrodden golden sand.
I remember wondering whether I might have been the first white man ever to step into this tropical nirvana.
I set my campsite under a large shady tree on a grassy knoll, collected firewood and found fresh running water cascading down from the rainforest at the stem of a warm sandy lagoon behind the beach.
After a lunch of easily caught fish and a refreshing swim across the mouth of the beach, I settled onto my towel to catch the last of the warm tropical afternoon sun.
The soft whisper of the sea, the cry of the gulls and the sound of the sea-breeze in the trees soon lulled me into peacefull sleep, and all thought of my bustling city life faded.
Suddenly I became aware of a shadow across my private world and I raised my head to find the most beautifully attractive woman that I have ever seen, standing beside my towel with a smile on her face, a cool drink in her hand, and one of the large red tropical flowers I had noticed on the hike in, tucked into her curly blond hair.
She had a campsite somewhere a few headlands away to the south, and had noticed my campfire earlier in the day.
I was relieved to see she was dressed as informally as I, as my swimmers were still in the drawer at home.
She welcomed me to the neighbourhood, saying she thought I could do with a refreshing drink she had made from freshly opened coconuts and squeezed honeydew melons from the edge of the forest.
We stayed together five beautiful romantic sun-kissed days on that beach, far from human habitation swimming, fishing for our meals and enjoying the peace and serenity of our small world, becoming as tanned and carefree as ever, until one morning I awoke and she was gone.
After a few days, I packed my kit and pushed back through the jungle to my cruiser and made my way back to the city, the dreary people and my mundane workaday existence.
It was several weeks before I got around to unpacking the last of my camping kit, probably because it was the last reminder of my holiday with my mysterious wild and wonderful 'island girl' as I called her, in liu of knowing her name.
In the bottom of my pack was my GPS. When I switched it on to check the co-ordinates of the secret beach that would now live on in bitter-sweet memory for the rest of my life, I found I couldn't get the wretched thing to work.
Removing the back to check the batteries, I discovered a small piece of rolled paper in place of one of the batteries with a date (three weeks ahead) and a set of very accurate co-ordinates.
When I located and replaced the missing battery and punched in the numbers from the piece of paper, they brought up a site next to a remote river in western NSW.
I was in camp beside that shady river that day when she strolled into camp with her golden hair, that gorgeous smile and those long sunkissed legs clad in Doc Martins.
I guess anywhere is fine for a holiday really, as long as you're with the one you love.
Gotta go now, we're packing for the Kimberleys and the kids (blond hair, tiny Doc Martins) are eager as hell.
Cheers,
Danny.
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