We head down to Cable Beach for a walk, and see it for the first time with the tide in. Rocks that were several hundred metres back from the water the last time we were here are now being pounded by the surf. Wed wondered why someone had bothered to install a path up over the cliff behind the rocks; now we know. We wade through the surf around the rocks. In stark contrast to when the tides out there arent so many cars here now, although we wonder how the couple that are managed to get themselves through the surf. Theres only one road down to the beach and its back behind us past the rocks, so theyve either been here for several hours or theyre actually really submarines. Fishing from the beach seems to be popular, and successful too if the couple of large specimens on display are anything to go by.
We keep going. Uh oh. I spot a young gent walking confidently towards us, and if Im not very mistaken he seems to have forgotten to get dressed this morning. We knew that there was a clothing optional section of beach along here somewhere; we
just hadnt expected across it quite so soon. We can see quite a few other people further on along the beach, but thankfully were still a bit too far away to be able to tell whether theyve also decided to leave their clothes at home today. Issy suggests that now might be a good time to turn back before we get accused of being perverts.
We head back up over the cliff past the rocks onto the popular bit of the beach where most people, at least, seem to be wearing clothes. When we were here at low tide the beach umbrellas were all spaced out about fifty metres apart. Now theyre all crammed together like sardines in the narrow strip of sand between the water and the base of the dunes. The whole scene looked distinctly antisocial at low tide, but now it all feels just a bit overly cosy.
Ive booked a sunset camel ride. Issy‘s not sure she can get her dodgy hips astride a camels hump so respectfully declines to join me. Im assigned to Boaz who brings up the rear of the thirteen camel train. Its heartwarming to see a young
man in a wheel chair being lifted onto one of the camels by his partner and a couple of his friends. We set off along the sand. I get chatting to one of the guides, a young Frenchman named Vincent. He says that the camels are all very tame and generally quite friendly. They all look impossibly cute and seem to be impeccably well behaved. He says that they tend to be a bit wild when theyre first brought in from the desert, but then quickly settle down once they get into a routine of eating and sleeping, and presumably carrying tourists along the beach. He says that while they generally all get along well with each other theres still a definite pecking order. They apparently have long memories. The alpha male is called Jordan, and it seems he has a particularly lengthy recall. If one the others gets a bit under his skin on one of the rides were told his usual trick is to wait until the middle of the night and then go and sit on whoever had been bugging him. Yep, I suspect thatd probably stop whoever it was from doing it again. I ask Vincent
what they do with the camels in the wet season. It seems that they run the tours all year round other than for a short break in February.
Youre not allowed to do the camel ride if you weigh more than 90 kgs. I cant see any scales in evidence, and a couple of members of our party look like they might be pushing the boundaries a bit. The camels are all tethered together, so if one of them goes down I reckon theres a fair chance itll bring the rest of them down with it. I dont want to think too much about the carnage that might result from that particular eventuality.
Vincent asks for my camera so he can take some pictures for me. He looks at it gleefully. He says that hes a wildlife photographer and wants to get a camera just like mine.
