An Ode to The Golden Hour Campfire Chat

A Backyard Staple

I’ve loved sitting around a fire since before I can remember. Growing up, fires were never just for camping and we’d often have one in the backyard at home. Golden winter sunsets would find us scrounging around for twigs to get it started, and teasingly arguing about the best structure to get it going.

Eventually, the flames would roar to life inside the old washing machine barrel we used as a firepit, the tiny holes in the side glowing like the stars slowly winking to life above. Sometimes it’d be a special occasion like a birthday, with a heap of cackling family and friends, other times it’d be just Mum and I, chatting about our weeks or catching up after I’d been away studying.

Mum and I – can you tell we’re related?

I remember the relief of arriving home after a three-hour drive from uni and being greeted by the crackling flames and low rumble of friends and family chatting, punctured occasionally by the hiss of a cracked drink (Bundaberg Campfire Bourbon Barrel Rum and Cola anyone?).

A Campground Meeting Point

When my partner Adam and I travelled around Australia, I was always so excited to arrive at a campsite that allowed fires. Regardless of how hot it was, I’d always have the flames blazing well before night hit so I could soak up a golden hour fireside rum.

Adam would be shaking his head and laughing at me as I sweated by the fire, insisting that I was, ‘Totally fine and not hot at all! It’s just so nice to have a fire!’.

Don’t mind me, just stoking the fire in 30 degree heat

Some of my absolute favourite memories of our year on the road feature a fireside Bundaberg Campfire Bourbon Barrel Rum and Cola at sunset with newfound besties. I can picture us sitting cross-legged in the dirt, cooking freshly caught mud crabs right on the coals, howling at newly formed in-jokes while the sun set over the glistening ocean, turning the ancient sandy cliffs the most ridiculous shade of orange.

I’ve always marvelled at the way fire puts people at ease and allows them to open up. There’s something inexplicable about the way the dancing flames entrance you and the heat (or is it the rum?) relaxes you. I reckon it has something to do with the fact that for the first humans, wandering around the big wide world, fire meant you were home safely and hanging out with your tribe, and somehow that feeling has stayed with us.

Dad and Adam bonding in the desert

I imagine, at the dawn of time, fireside sunsets might’ve looked quite similar to those we shared with friends amongst the red, dusty coast of Western Australia – although maybe with more wild animals and fewer fireside Bundaberg Campfire Bourbon Barrel Rum and Colas.

Even when it was just Adam and I around camp, we’d start the fire as the sun glowed on the horizon and let it burn down to coals, watching the magical swirling patterns created as the flames faded. We’d often find ourselves plotting the next move of our journey, dreaming of more trips on the road or what our lives might look like once we’re home.

Almost every time we’d wind up promising to make sure we’d keep having backyard fires wherever we ended up.

A Weekly Ritual

Now that we’re no longer on the road, it has indeed become the new norm amongst our group of friends on the NSW South Coast to have ‘fire night’ at someone’s place on a Sunday arvo. We crank the fire early, share dinner by the flames as the sky turns pink, and the chats and laughs run deep.

Each week the crowd is slightly different but two things are always the same – cracking open a can of Bundaberg Campfire Bourbon Barrel Rum and Cola at sunset to make us feel like we’re camping, and leaving with better mates than when you arrived!

Bringing the campground vibe to the backyard

Whenever I’ve gathered around a fire, regardless of whether I’ve been cracking up with laughter at new mates, deep in conversation with old friends or sitting in contented silence listening to the banter around me, it’s always brought me closer to the people I’ve shared it with.

A Precious Memory

Our uni mates still talk about this one particular night by the campfire on a freezing April weekend in the Snowy Mountains. It was the first cold snap of the season and we only stayed a single night, but the epic feed, cackles of laughter, and campfire chats over a rum have solidified themselves in all our memories as one of our favourite camp trips of all time.

Something tells me that without our roaring fire keeping us cosy as the last golden rays of sun disappeared over the mountains, it just wouldn’t have been the same.

And marshmallows are a given

I’ve had some of my deepest and my most ridiculous conversations around a campfire. So no matter how hard Adam shakes his head, I think I’ll always be excited to gather the kindling, delicately create the perfect twig structure, and set it all alight well before it gets dark, just for the chance to make more of those connections. You never know, they just might last you a lifetime.