Oyster Bay: A Hike, A Tantrum, and a Love Affair

So next stop...Oyster Bay.

Let’s rewind.

The original road trip companion was my son Salt - the easy one.

The one who thinks a tent is luxury and believes “holiday” means hiking, sleeping, repeating, and not questioning the universe too deeply.

Very grounded.

Very low maintenance.

Very “let’s just be one with nature.”

And, in March last year LOVED hikes. ......just like his mom!!

We had planned a simple hiking trip - no fluff. no drama - just trails and tranquility.

Then life happened and somewhere between planning and departure - Salt got replaced by Pepper.

Not literally - obviously - he’s still my child.

But energetically - a completely different species.

Just think zen monk... now flip that completely on its head and you’ve got Pepper!

At first, Pepper insisted he was “go with the flow.”

“I don’t even need to know where you booked, Mom.”

Adorable.

Misleading.

By the time departure rolled around, the flow had very specific requirements:

• Air con (or at least a fan)

• Some hiking (but not too much hiking)

• And ideally, “other stuff” (whatever that means)

So yes - the vibe shifted.

So, now that I’ve set the stage… let’s get to the real reason for this blog post: my redemption.

Turns out, Pepper’s mom - that’s me - isn’t the zen, go-with-the-flow hippie goddess she's always imagined myself to be.

Nope. Turns out she's just as spoiled and embarrassingly entitled as he is.

Shocking, I know. Go ahead, take a moment to let that sink in. I'll wait.

I had no idea just how deep this family trait ran until we pulled in to Oyster Bay for a two-night stay over New Year’s - and proceeded to act like a couple of insufferable, spoiled brats.

I mean.....first, we had to endure the "agonizing" sand road (20 km in case you think I am being dramatic.)

By the time we reached town, we were greeted with -

No electricity.

No petrol.

No food.

No hope.

And then, of course, the one (ONE) restaurant in the “town” was fully booked - because why wouldn’t it be?

And, naturally, it had to close early because - no electricity.

As if that wasn’t already a perfect storm of discomfort and mild frustration, I’m standing there realizing: I am absolutely NOT at my most Zen.

But do we accept it gracefully? No.

We internally sulked - with purpose.

The Bed Situation

Let’s talk about the “absolute rule” of needing two single beds when I travel with my children.

Mommy doesn't sleep - especially while being assaulted at 3 a.m. by unconscious limb warfare

Did we get two single beds?

Of course not.

No Fan.

No Aircon.

Just me, humidity, and Pepper’s nocturnal interpretive dance.

I briefly considered relocating into the ocean.

Oh, and the dogs. Let’s talk about them.

The owners had three dogs. I was pretty sure they were going to be barking all night, just to make sure I’d lose it completely.

Day 2

So day 2 we woke up....not the most awful sleep I gotta say.

Breakfast was unexpectedly excellent.

Fresh, thoughtful, the kind of meal that makes you question whether you’ve been too harsh

Naturally, we responded by sulking.

Why?

No ice cubes.

In the entire region.

Which raises serious questions about civilisation.

And, as if that wasn’t enough, the lights were still off.

Yes, off.

Entirely.

But wait, there's more! We were then forced to drive to St Francis Bay just to find food

ON THE SAND ROAD.

Oyster Bay Is Actually Gorgeous

But by the second evening, New Year’s Eve, I suddenly realized I had fallen head over heels for this little slice of heaven.

On the first night, Nick - our poor, unsuspecting host at the Oyster Bay Beach Lodge - graciously whipped up a last-minute, homemade dinner for us two miserable and hangry guests.

There was an inverter, so we didn’t even realize the power had been out for two entire days.

And the sleep… oh, the sleep.

Doors flung wide open, a cool sea breeze drifting in, and the waves singing a lullaby so perfect it could’ve knocked out even the most stubborn insomniac.

No barking. No mosquitoes. No chaos.

Just peace.

Turns out, Oyster Bay wasn’t just tolerable - it was quietly, unexpectedly magical.

Basil, the chief canine and undisputed ruler of Oyster Bay, was a gorgeous hound who casually strolled into our room for an afternoon nap.

If I’d known sooner, he could’ve been our walking buddy too - missed opportunities, sigh.

The Sunset Incident

New Year’s Eve brought yet another exceptional meal, and oh, remember how I’ve always dreamed of witnessing a sunset on a mountain - preferably mid-trail, with angelic choirs and dramatic lighting?

Well, guess who delivered? Oyster Bay.

Okay, fine, it wasn’t on a mountain.

Or a trail.

But it was a downright religious experience.

Oyster Bay isn’t about grueling hikes - it’s leisurely walks with breathtaking views and an overwhelming sense of calm.

Honestly, it’s as good as any hike I’ve ever done, just in a different, more laid-back way.

On A Final Note

Would I go back?

In a heartbeat - preferably without Pepper - he still hasn’t fully recovered from the lack of “other stuff.”

By the end of the trip, I had fallen in love with the place - like, head-over-heels.

The very place I was ready to write off as a disaster turned out to be the most magical little retreat.

So if you ever find yourself in Oyster Bay, take a moment to remember all the things that go wrong - they’ll become the things that make it unforgettable.