24 March, 2011 - Lane Cove National Park, Sydney, NSW

What a fabulous day! Yet again. Our days here in Sydney are coming to an end, just four more full days and  then we will have to move on. But for now we are making the most of every day.

Again we woke to sunshine and the promise of another wonderful day. We caught the train into the city, changed at Central this time, just to see how big that main interchange was, and were duly impressed. From there we caught a second train to Bondi Junction, came up out of the station and were rather baffled as to our next move, in the absence of helpful signs. Out came the compass and we ascertained the general direction we should head. After a few blocks we came across a sign pointing to Bondi Beach, confirming we were on track. Bondi Road runs from the Junction, down to Bondi, and then more steeply down to Bondi Beach, for at least four kilometres. As we neared Bondi itself, Chris kept commenting how he had yet to spot any familiar landmarks. He spent some months living here back in the early seventies, and was interested to see his old boarding house in Penkivil Road. Number 42 is now a great multi storied apartment block, as are most of the other buildings in that street. The area was far shoddier than he remembered; times change and perhaps he had rose-coloured glasses on as a foreign backpacking traveller in those days. As the road became steeper, I suggested to Chris that we catch the bus back up the hill rather than retracing our steps on foot. As it turned out that was a superfluous request.

Bondi Beach is an icon of Sydney, in fact Australia; a great golden swathe across a glistening bay, crowded with those bathing in the water or the sun, surfing and walking either themselves or their dogs.

There are no trees, or at least none that count as shelter for beach visitors. We walked the promenade the length of the beach and then found a shady place behind the pavilion to eat our lunch, next to four old foreign men playing a passionate game of dominos.

We decided to catch the bus up to South Head and The Gap. After a false start on the wrong bus, we travelled through the very smart suburb of Dover Heights and even more exclusive of Vaucluse. Residences here facing north have the most amazing view up the harbour toward the Harbour Bridge and Opera House. If I were a millionaire and wished to live in Sydney, this is where I would live.

The bus wound around the narrow streets then finally descended a steep street toward Watson’s Bay, passing The Gap. We stopped the bus and got off halfway down the hill, then walked back to the top to the cliff top above the Pacific Ocean. This precipice is infamous for suicide. There are signs and cameras and even a gentleman who lives opposite who watches would-be jumpers and rushes across with offers of a cup of tea and a chat as an option to the leap.

Preferring to walk across the top of The Gap rather than leap

We walked along the cliff top to the South Head National Park and enjoyed the spectacular views, but were disappointed to find we could not actually get to South Head itself; it is a defence area as was the entire National Park until fairly recently. From there we descended into Watson’s Bay, a charming bay, long a tourist attraction for Sydney day trippers. We caught the very very fast cat ferry back to Sydney, doused with sea water each time it turned or reversed.

As we docked at Circular Quay, the ferry buildings were dwarfed by a cruise ship in at the Overseas Terminal. That probably accounted for the extra large crowd on the ferry.

An uneventful trip back on the train to Wynyard, then changing to Chatswood where we alighted to shop. To our delight we found the mall crowded with a wonderful variety of international food stalls to celebrate Harmony Day in Willoughby (a generic name for the area around Chatwood). We sat for a while and listened to a guitarist playing classical Spanish airs, then went on to the Coles supermarket in the shopping centre we had been so very disparaging about last weekend. We stocked up on meat and a rotisserie chicken for dinner, repacked the back pack and caught the train on to North Ryde, arriving home about four.

(I didn't intend to feed them, Mr Ranger. I was just sorting the seeds for my muesli when they flew in!) 

It was nice to be back at camp a little earlier than we have been for the past week, just to relax and study maps still trying to decide where we should head when we leave here. Suddenly I had a visitor on my shoulder, a rainbow lorikeet. “Quick”, I said to Chris, “Grab the seed in the oven”. Well, where else would one keep birdseed?
         
My little mate was delighted with the offering, called his mate over and the two of them made themselves right at home. These are wild creatures I am speaking about! We were both amazed and delighted. After about ten minutes they were frightened off by another camper walking past holding a freshly ironed shirt. Will they find us tomorrow when we are parked up further down the row?