If the rocks were limestone instead of granite, this could be Phang Nga Bay in Thailand, easily. (Maybe add a few coconut palms. And some sea gypsies selling shell elephants. But otherwise, just the same.)
We had fabulous weather for our 4-day walk along the squeaky(-clean) white quartz sand of the Bay of Fires in north-east Tasmania. That was lucky: it isn't always so, despite what the guides say. (They also said "Will at the Lodge does foot massages!" and got me out of a sound sleep with "Breakfast! And dolphins!" All bare-faced cheerful lies.)
It wasn't an epic walk: 9km then 14km then a bit of a kayak and maybe 5km, and some other bits and pieces, mostly flat, some of it on soft sand but mostly easy-walking hard, quite a bit barefoot. Nothing nearly strenuous enough to earn the food they kept giving us. Presenting us with, rather - it's the first time I've been tramping and sat down to vertical dinners. "BoF belly" is a hazard of the walk, we discovered.
And now I'm in Launceston, back in civilisation with email and TV and flushing loos. Sigh. It's always a disappointment.
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