Day 3: Random Dune 1 to Random Dune 2 (14km; 50km total)

My idea about the sand hollow worked okay but no where near as well as I had hoped. It did give me a little ledge of ground to rest my leg on though, to ease the pressure on my hip when on that side (that's how I sleep: back-side-side and repeat, all night). Around midnight it started to rain and I struggled to sleep. I must have though as I dreamed the rain was pouring in through a great hole in the roof that I craftily plugged with my sleeping bag--but awoke to find sleeping bag dry and in place (with me in it) and only rain on the outside of the tent. Phew!

Rain makes sand sticky...and it sticks to everything. Makes packing up your gear kind of a challenge, but I managed, mostly by doing it on the small dry patch left by my struck tent.

I had a bit of a lie in to catch up on trip diary and get a little more rest, so though I woke up at 7am I didn't get underway until 10. All my aches and pains were gone...until I started walking. About twenty paces in my hip started going again. Mercifully enough after about 4km the pain had slowly dissipated and was not to be noticed again all day. Things are looking up!

Got to Bluff Campsite by 12...what a hole. So glad I didn't push on in the dark to get here last night! $10 per night buys you a patch of fully exposed grass, two disgustingly blocked loos and a shower-like apparatus that all evidence suggests was last used by a possum. I found a plank to sit on and have lunch (a.k.a museli bars) before striking out onto the beach again. I'm developing a knees bent, back straight, flat-footed stump of a gait that is difficult to shake off even after you put your pack down. I wonder after this trip if I'll ever walk upright and tall again?!

Sore feet + tiredness means one speed only = slow. With my frequent short breaks I made about 2.5km/hr today.

Fair bit of traffic on the beach, especially toward low tide. One car load of people stopped to say hello. Nice people who clearly thought I was nuts :)

Steady south-westerly wind throughout the day. Good call wearing my merino top. Having the extra water bladder slung down my front also acts like a good wind break, and stops the wind getting too cold. There's been quite a few streams and I refilled from one of them for the first time today (Twighlight had a water tank), much to the annoyance of a pair of ?Godwits. Broke out the Aquatabs to treat the water; happily you can't really taste them.

Stopped for a good rest between 3 and 3:30 pm. It was difficult to find a place out of the wind. I snuggled into my pack to keep the sand out of my face...should have looked a bit harder for some place completely out of view of the beach as a tourist bus must have glimpsed me and pulled a U-turn to see if I was ok. I waved that I was and they went on their way.

One of the more unusual critters to be encountered on the beach: blue bottle(?) jellyfish (quite small).

Around 4pm the guy driving the car from before came back alone. Friendly enough chap, introduced himself as Jason and asked if I wanted to go for a swim. I politely declined, keen to get walking. He asked where I was staying tonight...twice. First time I said "wherever I end up", second time I just shrugged. Could be he was just intrigued by the idea of someone camping out in the dunes, but as a solo hiker it put me on guard. Eventually, after one more stop and attempt at conversation Jason went on his way. I put in some quick kilometres in his wake...amazing what nerves can do for your physical capabilities.

About 4:30pm I found a good wind blown spot to make my way into the dunes. I figured within half an hour the wind would obliterate my tracks, but just for my own piece of mind I hiked about another kilometre through the vegetation, careful not to leave any obvious tracks, and eventually found a nice, wide, crater-shaped hollow in the dunes, deep enough to be shielded from view (and the wind!) on all sides. It smells lovely as all the yellow lupin are in flower, along with some yellow-centered dark purple daisy-like flower and the occasional pale yellow flowers of a ground-hugging succulent. I found a flattish, semi-clear spot among the lupin (evidence suggests I'm on an old trail made by the wild horses in these parts), and tried to minimise the number of plants I had to kill to pitch my tent. Content and happy I watched the sun set over the rim of my private little flower garden while chowing down on carbonara pasta and my first and most delectable cup of tea of the trip!