Blood, sweat and tears. And leeches. And snakes. Bear Grylls would be proud of our jungle walk in Oz one Easter.

Not long after we moved to Chelsea, we went home to Oz in the Easter holidays – their autumn.

Dad had undergone open heart surgery in the interim. It was a tonic to see him fit, healthy and back to full strength.

The weather in autumn in Australia, like in the South East of England, is variable. It was cool on this particular day, but sunny, not unlike today in London. I suggested we all go for a walk in the National Park, along the coast path, which I had been told had fantastic views, from Otford to Garie Beach.

We pulled up to find a sign: Coast Walk 12 kilometres to Garie Beach. That didn’t seem too far to us. Dad agreed to walk the first part, and then pick us up later at the end. The first four kilometres took no time at all: an hour. It was a nice flat path, with spectacular views of the Pacific. Dad turned back. We reckoned it would take another 2 to 3 hours to reach Garie Beach. The hour of the clock was 12 noon.

Dad left. We pressed on. Very soon we left the very neat and tidy path and headed into thick jungle rainforest; a complete change of vegetation due to the lack of sun. It was damp and dark and undulating. It was scary. And it was slippery.

We looked down at one point to find that our white socks were covered in leeches. Somehow I had the presence of mind to calmly remove them: whilst Anna was screaming hysterically. Then a diamond snake, harmless, but huge, slithered past. Then I shrieked. On we pressed. It took about two and a half hours to navigate up and down through the jungle rainforest. We had only covered a few kilometres. We were not even half way. Dad would be on his way to Garie Beach soon to collect us.

Finally, we emerged into shrubland. We saw a beach ahead. Great, we thought, that must be Garie Beach. Some walkers, with all the right kit, walked past us. To our dismay, they informed us that it was three beaches and two headlands to reach our destination. We only had a few small bottles of water, and the temperature was rising. On we pressed, passing squatters’ shacks that were illegally built, but ideal holiday homes for those who can cope without electricity and water. Better than camping.

We were finally at the headland before the pickup point. It was now almost 5pm, and the rangers would soon be closing the park at dusk. I was freaking out that Dad would be having another heart attack. We had no mobile phone. Our water was almost gone.

I told Geoff to press on ahead and reach Dad as quickly as possible. I forgot to ask for a bottle of water. So off he and Hugo went, at a pace. When I realised that Anna and I had no water, I tried to signal to him, when he turned around to check on us, that we needed water. I threw my head back and motioned glugging water. He misread my charade and thought I was telling him to go ahead even more quickly. I was so thirsty.

Finally we made it to the carpark. The rangers had locked the gate to the carpark. There was a huge hill to climb. Hugo ran like a gazelle ahead and found Dad at the top of the road, just about to go and ring the police. The poor man. He was gripped with anxiety. We had walked for six hours with no food, no stopping and very little water. Crazy.

Bear Grylls would have summed up our adventure as ‘lunacy’.

Tonight, we are going to see Geoff’s old boss and his wife at their house in Eaton Square for drinks and then out for dinner.