25 November 2012 - Surf Beach Holiday Park, Illawarra, NSW

What a difference a day makes! And such a day it has been, dawning cloudless and heralding holiday weather as was celebrated today by the dozens of families picnicking at the beach and on recreational areas, the young blondies  showing off their spray tans and short shorts and the old blondies daringly baring their own withered loins.

Little Blowhole

After a sleep of the just, we rose to the sound of pitter patter of little feet in the cabin next to us, but no cries or winges. This lot are well behaved, thank goodness. Soon there were joyous cries from the heated swimming pool and it was time for the replay of the rugby match between the Italians and the Wallabies that had taken place in Florence overnight. The Wallabies won, but after a valiant attempt from the passionate Latins who closed only three behind and at least half a dozen injuries, some carried off with the greatest of drama. Italians do that so well!

We had managed to slip out before the replay to check out the Little Blowhole, just a kilometre down the coast, if that. We wound our way through yet another maze of streets to be duly rewarded by this smaller hole which was blowing well today. It was worth the effort and the fact we missed the first ten minutes of the game.

After checking on the fourth day of cricket play, lunch and then more cricket until their own lunch time, we headed north up to Kiama Downs to see the Cathedral Rocks, volcanic rocks shaped by erosion over the millenium. Adjacent, playing in the swirling surf were half a dozen young people, taking their lives in their hands. Out of control, the ragged rocks would have been their only destination. We watched their antics for some time and I tried to remember how young people consider life and such recklessness. Had I ever lived life in such a foolhardy manner? Yes, probably, but not in the surf .

A little to the south was a more conventional surf beach, this named The Boneyard, or the cameron Boyd Reserve. Cameron Boyd was known as the King of the Boneyard, obviously one of the surfing madman I alluded to before. Apart from spending time surfing at this beach, he made a significant contribution to competitive surfing on the South Coast in the 1970s so it is quite appropriate that this spot bears his name.

We walked a little down the coast until we reached the Bombo Headland, a moonscape of basalt walls and columns, the remnants of blue metal quarrying. This surreal landscape is apparently used regularly as a backdrop for video clips and television advertisements. It is absolutely amazing and struck me in the same way the alien landscape east of Coober Pedy had done, although this today is greatly due to man’s intervention.

When whitemen arrived down this way, the headland was promptly stripped of its vegetation and became a loading dock for the blue metal industry. Long after the industry had ceased, a local activist group intervened to save it from further quarrying and campainged to have it set aside for nature and recreation. In 1974, the headland was declared a State Park.

Bombo Headland with interference from birds and man

We spent some time wandering about and also marvelled that one corner of this was now home to the area’s sewerage works, a great washing machine of stinking waste.

Back in Kiama, we parked at the lower end of town and noted all the tourists  and the fact that the cafes were all full, even mid afternoon. We wandered past the cottages, heritage listed homes to the quarrymen who were the life blood of Kiama before the quarries closed in 1961. Demand for blue metal for roads, railways and trams were really the genisis of Kiama.

These timber terrace houses date back to 1886 and were built for quarry workers and their families. By 1960 they were in such a state of disrepair, they were almost demolished. Since then they have been classified by the National Trust and placed under a permanent conservation order.

The blowhole today was very different to the first visit; just a rumble down the great hole while first time tourists waited, hopeful, on the viewing platforms. The scene up and down the coast today, despite the heat haze, was so much more attractive today. The absence of wind makes for happier touring. The harbour tucked above the northern side of Blowhole Point was picturesque with colour and busy-ness.

The harbour, Robertson Basin,  is actually manmade, blasted out of the rock. Between 1849 and 1855 numerous applications and petitions were made by the citizens of the Kiama district, duly rewarded with the harbour facility. The Basin was an important improvement in communication prior to the opening of the south coast railway.

The quarry houses at Kiama

Satisfied we had seen all the must-dos on my list for today, we headed back to camp where Chris settled in for the rest of the cricket day and I stretched out in the shade with the newspaper and a novel.

It is just less than two weeks before we fly to Auckland and meet up with our family, the days are counting down and we have more days than tasks; just the way it should be. Tomorrow we will head north again, inching ever closer to Sydney from where we must depart for our family reunion.