2 April 2011 - Lane Cove National Park, Sydney, NSW

Saturday night settled in front of the computer, Chris in front of the documentary channel on the television. We have been having problems receiving our preferred channels since here in the Lane Cove River Tourist Park. It could be the trees that surround us, the low cloud that lies overhead more often than not, or the continual stream of aircraft that fly either below or through that cloud. If I dare to get up to plug in or install the Skype camera, everything turns to custard. Hopefully we will find this is a problem of location rather than a systems problem when we move out of here in a few more days.

Chris cooked an excellent pork stir fry tonight, and I was glad to only worry about the clean up. I was tired after our excellent day. Today I was considering that our time here in Sydney, just short of three weeks so far has been a bit like the whirl wind  Trafalgar tour my mother, sisters and I did around a part of Europe a few years ago; wonderful, exhilarating and rather exhausting.

We set the alarm last night so that we would rise at a decent hour and be organised for a prompt start for the day planned. By eight fifteen, we were off on the road, driving north up the main north motorway toward the Mooney Mooney bridge. When we came south nearly three weeks ago, and passed through the amazing rock cuttings and crossed the Hawkesbury River, I was very taken with the delightful scene below us and so regretted that we were on a fixed run into the city. Thursday’s trip through the Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park and around the lower reaches of Broken Bay had whet my appetite for discovering more of this region.

We first visited the charming seaside village of Brooklyn, home to fishing boats, houseboats and a corner or rather end of the road where those who seek the quiet life can stash themselves away. Unfortunately there were few vantage points however we drove about to get a taste of the place, but not for the oysters that were on sale so early in the day. Neither of us are particularly keen on those.

From there were crossed the Hawkesbury River and drove north on the Pacific Highway, very quiet today except for dozens of cyclists. We drove as far north as a place called Calga, then headed north east up a back road toward Cessnock as far as Central Mangrove, and then turned south toward the Hawkesbury.

On this lesser road, the sunshine had brought out all the motorcycle enthusiasts and we were passed by many on the way down.

 As we neared that great river, the many creeks were all heading the same way and became a great mangrove waterway. The road hugged the shore and the waterline seemed to be level with us. Small yachts and other craft peeped out of gaps in the vegetation, and some looked like they had not moved for a while. We emerged from the New Zealand's Northland-like scene at Spencer and stopped to enjoy morning coffee before heading up river, still hugging the shore.

When we reached Wisemans Ferry, we were both surprised and pleased to learn that the ferry is free, as are all the crossings further up river. The river is as the road, part of the transport infrastructure which is of course, apart from the few toll motorways, free to all here in Australia, or at least New South Wales.

Wisemans Ferry crosses where the Hawkesbury River turns back on itself, and meanders up to it’s beginning at Yarramundi. Above that point it is the Nepean River.  The MacDonald River flows into the Hawkesbury on that great bend, and it was that river we followed up to St Aubans, a picturesque village with a pretty old pub separated from the river by a very nice park, a park filled with Saturday picnicers who looked, by their dress, as if they were enjoying a pre-wedding picnic.

We found a rather broken table and seat, occupied only by ants and a very large fury  caterpillar who fell in love with our bright blue eski, and ate our lunch.

From there we crossed the river by bridge and drove back down to the Hawkesbury on the other side, a sealed road this time, and delighted in the wonderful scenery; high brown cliffs and beautiful gum forest, and small livestock holdings through the narrow valley.

When we reached the Hawkesbury, we crossed on the ferry, this time at a place called Webb Creek. On the other side, we climbed up through rugged rocky land and along the ridges above the river, coming to a place called Ebenezer. There on the banks of the river, but high enough to have always been safe from floods of the past, stands the oldest church in Australia that is still currently being used as such. It is a simple small Presbyterian church, with a school room that has been adapted to a tearoom, extensive gardens and a very old well tended cemetery. The sun was still shining and the scene was quite charming.

From there we drove on, down a steep ridge back to the river, and crossed on yet another ferry with a ute pulling a trailer carrying three yearlings, a 4WD pulling a power boat and a motorcyclist. The road took us through further rural areas, much of it cultivated for lawn turf and some for vegetables, past a settlement called Wilberforce, on to Richmond. We stopped there and walked around the town. Even on a Saturday afternoon, the streets were busy with cafes and bars, and shops still open. We found a Coles supermarket in a shopping centre and purchased a few essentials and then decided that since it was getting late, and the best of the day’s weather was past, we would had home. We set Tomtom to home, told him we didn’t mind paying tolls and enjoyed the scenery of the roads not previously travelled.