Day 4 - camping with French cuisine

I woke up to the smell of coffee. Coffee, together with freshly baked bread and the smell of rain on dry ground (or petrichor) are my favourite smells. 

My nose led me upstairs where Valentina was busy in the kitchen. She presented me with ‘humitas’. Humitas are a typical food item from Ecuador made with fresh corn, eggs, and butter. Steamed. I have not eaten one for at least a year. But as if that would have not been enough to make my year, Valentina also made ‘bolones’. Bolones are one of the many things you can cook from green plantain – like the ‘patacones’ we had yesterday. Bolones are my favourite thing. My children love them and I got lots of grief when I sent them the photo. So, for breakfast we had humitas, bolones and Galapagos Coffee from our dear friends Scott and Maria Elena's farm in the highlands of Santa Cruz Island. Talking about warm fuzzy feelings now… Alyson had gone to have breakfast with some friends, but diligently had some when she came back. Our food, plus us breaking into Spanish in the middle of a conversation, I think gave Alyson a crash course on Ecuadorian/Galapaguenian culture…

Noosa, QLD

We left Lazaro and Valentina’s around 11 am and headed to Noosa. Noosa is still in the Sunshine Coast and about 220 km north. A bustling little town full with backpackers, trendy shops, coffee shops in the pavement with all chairs facing the street – like a cinema – and an amazing blue ocean surrounded with greenery. We drove around for about 20 minutes trying to get a parking spot to go to ‘the’ beach. We settled for another one otherwise we would have driven around and around and around. ‘Sunset Beach’ was in the exposed side of Noosa. Lots of waves, lots of people with very little sun protection, and plenty of life guards with jet skis, buoys on yellow and red uniforms. We had a lovely swim. Under the waves, over the waves, in the waves. We waved good bye to Noosa with and ice cream and headed north again.

The drive north was beautiful. Alyson kept looking at me funny every time I ‘wowed’ at the views or tried to sneak a photo while driving. Green farmland with brown cows and white horses. Hay balls and barns. Tractors. Few people around. It was koala country, but I could not see any. I changed the music to fit the scenery: Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Simon & Garfunkel, BuffaloSpringfield; you get the idea. We sang along too and we arrived in Hervey Bay.

Photo: Alyson's

We found a caravan park facing the sea where tents were set, sleeping bags were unrolled and camping chairs were put up. The wind was howling, which although helped keeping the mosquitoes and sand flies at bay, after a while it got annoying. We are back to basics now. Unless a fancy French restaurant is directly opposite to our campsite. So we dined on scargots, Kilpatrick oysters, filet mignon and lamb cutlets. Profiteroles for dessert. An amazing bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough Valley in New Zealand set the scene for one of the most memorable meals I have had in a while. We met the chef – Christian, an eccentric and gentle French man wearing a beret. We met his wife and his 2000 cc motorbike. The bike was happier to have met us. We exchanged stories and crossed the street back to reality.