What is it about land that is surrounded by water that is so attractive?
I’ve walked along a beach, spotted another bit of beach but with a few waves in between and have to go there. You brave the waves, get onto the beach and realise that it really is exactly the same bit of sand you were walking on before. But there is something about crossing that bit of water that makes that particular bit of sand simply magical.
Look across to the mainland and there they are, the other beach walkers doing the same, coming to explore that tiny sand island just off shore.
Perhaps we are all explorers at heart.
What is the lure of that bit of land that is a little harder to get to? Why does a boat ride generate that ping in the stomach that catching a bus does not. What is it about sea air in your face and the knowledge that the water laps your borders?
And so we go.
Recently and without realising I was doing it at first, I visited three islands in three days. The first was Macleay Island, there to attend the exhibition opening of Macleay Island Art Complex’s By the Bay. We have friends who are doing up a house on the island and we visited them on the way. Mention those friends at the function and everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows them, or at best, the house they are restoring. The people make island life interesting too.
On the second day, I visited Coochiemudlo Island, there to attend a castaway birthday party. I probably needed a black wig to be a truly convincing Mary Ann, but my Skipper husband and I went to a Gilligan’s Island party along with other Mary Ann’s, Gilligans, Gingers and Mr and Mrs Howells.
On the third day (not of Christmas and there were no true loves, except my tolerant husband) we trundled up to Bribie Island, there to visit some friends who have (shocking, I know) left the hallowed shores of the Redlands for the allure of island life. Obviously the lure of a life surrounded by water was such a strong pull for these intrepids that they had to succomb.
We are not among those who must find small pieces of island land on which to dwell. Suffice a visit for now.
