We were lucky enough to spend the long weekend past staying with good friends at their family shack.
I so adore it there.
The beach is your backyard, and every night you fall asleep to the loud crashing of the waves upon the shore.
‘It sounds like thunder’.
That’s how my son described it. His little voice whispering to me in the night.
There’s an old squeaky fly screen out the front, and a bucket of water for dipping sandy feet by the sliding door.
Collections of shells and old vintage books line the walls.
The floors creak and the crockery is all mismatched.
There’s no internet.
Of course, when you weekend away with young kids there are countless non-relaxing moments. Sadly tantrums don’t take a break no matter where you are.
But at least with four parents on duty you can share the load.