We drove for hours down a two-lane road that took us winding around mountains and skimming the water’s edge. Then, somewhere between Lorne and Apollo Bay, came a clearing and we simply had to pull over.

The three of us scrambled down the wooden stairs which led to the beach. In those first few minutes, robbed of both speech and action, all we could do was to stand rooted in the howling wind and take in the vista.

In those few minutes, that beach was ours and ours alone.

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