On this calm Sunday morning, the weather fresh, the clouds receding and the water flat as glass, the day starts in Paradise. Retirement to such a place involves a 200m trip to the boat ramp from my house and a leisurely starting of the motor. Ten minutes and we are in the middle of a lake 3k wide and steering towards an idyllic landfall. Surrounded by pelicans we steer the boat east on a voyage towards the epicentre of a lake that is 5k long and the entrance to the river.
This trip is one of many I had planned in my retirement which at one point seemed but a dim chance as we ventured from one Caravan Park to another. Not one of them could give me what I craved after a lifetime working; my needs were simple, a quiet place to live, a mountain to look at, trees full of birds, and a place to launch a small boat to idle away relaxing from a lifetime of stress.
The one place in a quiet little village called Camden Haven is where all my dreams came true – Christmas Cove Caravan Park. Where trouble is banned, loud conversation is frowned upon and quiet is paramount. I can walk to the jetty, board my boat and enter my dreams with no fuss, no cost and return to my recliner with a flathead in the bucket.
Now we know what Paradise means.
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