A wise man once said, “you only travel as far as you wish to go.”  His wife said, “unless I decide otherwise.”

It’s not raining today, so I’ve ‘decided’ it will be great to see the local sights, starting with a quick round of op-shopping, followed by a trip to Trial Bay.  (Editor’s note: ‘Op-shopping’ – Australian term for visiting thrift shops with the express purpose of purchasing something that someone else was smart enough to throw away.)

An hour later, we’re still at the second of two local ‘op-shops’, comparing our potential purchases.  Nanette – “I’ve found these beads, a handbag, a set of nearly-matching fondu forks and a book – all for ten bucks!’  Me – “I found a golf ball.”  To head off the obvious question about having lots of golf balls at home already, I quickly add, “it’s a PRO-V1X.  And it’s only 50 cents.”

Purchases completed, we hit the road for the seven-minute trip to Trial Bay.  After the obligatory stop at the old jail site, we drive on through the campground and along the ocean front.  It’s windy enough to blow the dog off the chain, so we forego our usual practice of finding a big rock to just sit and watch the endless waves.  

I have an inspiration.  “How would you like to take a trip to Hat Head?”, I ask.  “Sure”, comes the reply, “but you can take me to lunch at the place on the hill first.”  I’m tempted to suggest we can’t afford to eat at that fancy spot, but, just in time, remember my extravagance at the op-shop.  “No worries, dear.”

As usual, my ‘choice’ was a good one.  The meal was great and the view amazing.  Ok, now let’s find the mysterious Hat Head.  I spotted the turnoff when we drove to Kempsey the other day, but neither of us have any idea of what it’s like.  Nanette has her phone out to google some information.  “Nah,” says I, “let’s just go in blind and see what we find.”

Off we go.  Two minutes later, we see a sign pointing to Smokey Cape Lighthouse.  Why not?  Follow the winding road through the forest, then up, up, up to the carpark.  Out of the car then up, up, up we walk to the main attraction.  The wind is still howling, but we can see forever.  Back down the hill and collapse into the car.  If we were smart, we’d call it a day at this point, but, well, you know …

We follow the pleasant drive along the banks of the Macleay River, which is thick with silt and almost bursting its banks after all the rain.  I briefly wonder if the road gets flooded often, but keep these thoughts to myself.  Ah, here’s the turnoff – and – the road is bitumen.

As expected, Hat Head looks like one of those little seaside villages that time forgot.  There’s a general store and a bowling club, but not much else.  On a whim, we follow the ‘main’ road on through the campground, to find it terminates at the point a pretty little creek meets the beach.  No wonder there are so many families camped here.  You could let the kids roam free with no worries, other than the occasional shark, or maybe a few snakes in the sand dunes.

We wander the beach for a bit, then decide it really is time to head back.  Oh, look, there’s a sign to Gap lookout.  Wonder what’s up there?

Another carpark.  Here’s a sign. “In good weather, the 3.3km Grade 5 one-way trail should take experienced hikers about 1.5 hours to complete. Beware rockfalls and dangerous cliffs”   

The sign also shows there is a viewpoint about 200 metres along the trail, up over that big hill.  We choose the viewpoint.

About an hour later, we’re back at the car.  We’ve climbed the hill, sat on a cliff-top seat and watched the ocean far below, resisted the urge to jump the guard fence beside a mini-fjord, and clambered down another steep path to a boulder framed beach.  

As I start the engine, I half-heartedly suggest that, now we’ve come this far, we could continue on to Crescent Head. Nanette is firm. “No,” she says, “One Head is enough for today.”