People say this or that beach is the most beautiful but for me those on the Central Coast of NSW are hard to better, with spots like Toukley, Avoca, Terrigal, Umina, Bateau Bay… Here, at the Entrance, which is one of the loveliest spots imaginable, it’s a beautiful summers winters day. Our apartment enjoys an 180 degree view of the Pacific ocean, fisher folk on the rocks, strutting pelicans awaiting treats, while a willie wagtail dances and sings for us on the balcony.

Walkers promenade before us along the walkway, some in full gym gear, dressed to thrill. Elderly couples, holding hands, dads pushing prams, kids on scooters, pooches of every description. Among the sundry breeds of dog, a couple stroll with two French poodles, primped, preened and pampered within an inch of their doggie lives- one black, the other white, her paws and legs dyed pink and blue, a pink bow in her hair.

We sat, delighting in the crisp, ocean tang, with a vista of foaming, tumbling waves, a white-crested bombora further out. Col mused that the Great Pacific extends right around the world to Peru, which we visited a couple of years ago. Her iPhone had earlier assured us there was only a 20% chance of rain, but. droplets of moisture suddenly speckled the pavement, a sun shower dripping from one of the few clouds. ‘Oh, look -the end of a rainbow’s pointed straight towards us,’ said Colleen. The spectrum of colour was prize enough, without needing that promised pot of gold! Then a second rainbow appeared. Out came the cameras to record that magic moment.

Later, we drove towards a spot along the lake to watch the sunset, skies pallid shades of pink. Michael sounded gloomy.‘Don’t think it’ll be much of a spectacle today.’

I said: ‘Let’s not be greedy. We’ve just seen a double rainbow.’

We found a table, set out dips and bikkies, while Michael opened the champagne. As we toasted my birthday, the clouds were transformed into a cauldron of reds and orange, shimmering in every wavelet Pelicans sailed by in all their majesty. At the edge of the scarlet lake, a black cormorant stood flapping and drying its wings. We rushed to get our pictures, exclaiming over the perfection before us. Toasts were made, laughter and bubbles rising.

Next moment came big, fat drops of rain, behind us the skies suddenly ominous black. Faster and faster came the rain . We gathered our goodies and fled to a nearby shelter, thinking the storm would soon pass. But it had other ideas: pools appeared, lapping at our feet, the wind gusting water around our legs. Michael was laughing. ‘Colleen, I thought your i-Phone said there was only 20% chance of rain?  So much for the wonders of modern technology.’