4 November 2012 - River Breeze Tourist Park, Moruya, Eurobodalla, NSW

Anticipation of our day at the South Coast Caravan, Camping and Holiday Expo was enough to rouse us early yesterday morning and have us at Batemans Bay by the opening time of 9 am. But even then, we had to find a space in the far end of the parking area and stand in the long queue to buy our tickets. There were evidently just as many keen show-goers as us.

It had rained a little on our drive north and rain still lay about in shallow puddles at Mackay Park, the location of the expo, however it held off for the rest of the day. In fact we could not have asked for better weather to enjoy such a day; neither too hot nor too cold. We enjoyed our six hours at the show, even more than the Melbourne expo. Here in Batemans Bay, there was not the press of crowds and frenzy of sales. Despite that, it would seem that sales were brisk of caravans and accessories alike.

We pondered the purchase of generators, portable solar panels, tarpaulin clips, portable camp fires, satellite dishes and scooters, and in the end simply settled for a couple of hose bags. We have brochures for most of the products we did not buy and may, or may not, give them further thought while the iron is still hot, so to speak.

At the end of the afternoon, I was glad to return to camp and sit with my feet up, served with coffee by my husband who has more stamina than I when it comes to traipsing around exhibitions and standing for long periods of time in conversation with the ever friendly and pushy salespeople. 

We spent today in a very different way, more in line with our normal activities. It was about 9.30 am when we headed away from camp, inland from Moruya up the Moruya River and  then the Duea River,  along a narrow gravel road unsuitable for caravans, long or large vehicles. While the hills all about are bush clad and part of the Deua National Park, there are numerous small holdings along the river; mostly rather rundown residences probably inhabited by alternative types. You wonder why people would live in a narrow valley, so close to the river and surrounded by so much forest. With floods and fires so common here in Australia, I would have to suggest that these people are either thick or have nerves of steel.

There are three camping areas along the river, but only two easily accessible from the road. We stopped at the first and walked down to the river where a family of four were swimming. More correctly, two of the children were swimming and mother and one child were sensibly sitting on rocks in the middle of the river, supervising. The water was so clear, flowing over a sandy bottom. We shed our sandals and waded in, paddling around like a couple of kids. It was so lovely, although not warm enough to encourage us to fetch our togs from the landcruiser. After the family left, we sat on the rocks in the sunshine, listening to the birds and watching masses of tiny fish swim in the clear water, while we let our feet dry. It was so peaceful; I could have stayed like that all day except I could feel my uncovered head burning. Then Chris noted a visitor swimming toward us from the other side; dark and slim, a little less than two metres long. I was not aware that land snakes could swim so well. We quickly put our shoes on and readied ourselves for a quick retreat, however after he had beached himself on the rocks, he was more interested in resting in the sunshine than coming for us. We decided it was time to leave.

We stopped at the next camp and wandered down to the river, finding this posse very attractive as well. They would be marvellous camp spots for tent based campers.

Soon the road climbed up over a ridge and we came down once more to the river, but this time, the Araluen Creek, and surprisingly ahead of us lay a wide farming valley. I say surprisingly because valleys normally open out as rivers flow down, rather than toward the head. Perhaps I missed something in the geography of the land. According to research sources, the natural landscape of the valley was completely destroyed by destructive gold mining in the latter part of the 19^th century, or at least what was left after a flash flood swept through the town in 1860, killing twenty four people.

Today there are about two hundred people living here; I would suggest that includes the surrounding farms as well as the peach orchardists. The teenage son in the river-swimming family had just been through to Araluen for an interview to work on one of these orchards, so we were not entirely surprised when we saw the neatly arranged rows of peach trees for ourselves. The pub was open but we stopped at the town’s public recreational area, a rather overgrown cricket oval, a shabby pavilion, shabbier picnic tables and a shiny new playground set up. We were happy to eat our lunch in this lovely rural setting however did discover as we regained our route, that there was a specially set aside picnic area and park a couple of kilometres up the road. There you go.

The gravel turned to bitumen as the road immediately climbed high onto the Great Divide, climbing 480 metres in short distance before we found ourselves on a plateau of beautiful farmland. Braidwood lies twenty three kilometres north of Araluen and is a significant service town for the surrounding countryside, centrally located ninety kilometres from Canberra and sixty two from Batemans Bay, on the Kings Highway.

We normally do a little research before we arrive at a place so we have a rough idea of what to expect, but today Braidwood was an absolute surprise. We had intended to return to Moruya from Araluen by the same route; our decision to make a loop tour was totally unplanned.

We walked about Braidwood, fascinated by its old world charm and marvelled at the amount of traffic that was passing through travelling from the coast on to Canberra, many stopping and partaking of refreshments. We learned that Braidwood is an old gold rush area and has since been declared a historic town by the National Trust. The largest gold discovery occurred in 1869, however all through the late 19^th century the prosperous town was a drawcard for bushrangers, making it the most infamous and dangerous  town in the region. The 19^th century buildings have been restored and are still in use for both commercial and residential purposes.

Back on the road, we headed toward the coast, soon descending down over the edge of the escarpment on the Kings Highway. It is quite strange how the existence of safety ramps for runaway downhill bound vehicles play with your mind and make the road seem steeper and more dangerous than it really is. We have seen these before; they are a specialty of the Australian eastern escarpment roads. Imagine having to use one!

When we reached the Princes Highway, we turned south, crossed the very ugly opening bridge over the Clyde River, and headed for home, calling in at the Scottish Restaurant for our own refreshments; a snow freeze cone each. Why did we do that? Sunday, opposite the Caravan & Camping Expo! Masses of noisy kids, the clatter of a commercial restaurant and the stupid system MacDonalds has had now for some time, with a queue for ordering and paying, and another for actual service. It is so annoying! By the time the order was filled, I was suffering calorie-guilt; I have been doing so well reducing my weight back to what it was before we went to New Zealand last. I suspect that all the wonderful hospitality on our next trip will destroy all my self-discipline exercised over the past four months. Still, I could have thrown it out, or offered it to a hungry looking child, but I did not. I ate it all up and it was delicious, as per usual.

As penance, I was pleased to take a walk around a small corner of the Eurobodalla Regional Botanic Gardens, just a few kilometres south of Batemans Bay. I should note that Chris does not suffer the same pathetic desire for self-flagellation. This is a female thing, and women are very good at this.

The Botanic Gardens are lovely, or at least that small part we saw of them. They cover an area of forty two hectares immediately below Deep Creek Dam in Mogo State Forest. Development was commenced in 1988 however they were significantly damaged by bush fires in January 1994. With great determination from volunteers, local businesses and community groups, development was continued and the gardens were officially opened in 2001. We may well return there when we move our camp base to Batemans Bay. It’s a good place to undertake daily exercise.

Ten kilometres further south, we stopped at Mogo, having passed twice through this yesterday. Mogo, with its population of less than three hundred people, also made its mark during the gold rush. In fact gold mining continued about the area from initial discovery in 1851 right through to 1984, when the Australian dollar was floated. In its heyday, there were 15,000 people living here. Today it is a quaint village of the same ilk as Cobargo, further down the highway, but a little more upmarket. It was well after 3 pm by the time we stopped and did our uptown walk, and the place was still surprisingly busy with tourists. Mogo is also home to a private zoo which specialises in breeding programmes for endangered species, as well as The Original Gold Rush Colony, an award winning tourism attraction which we did not bother with. As I have mentioned before, after Victoria, we are rather “golded” out.

Soon we were home again, and rather disappointed to find the family adjacent to us had not headed back to where they come from. Obviously they are here for more of a break than just the weekend. It seems that with the Melbourne Cup race taking place on Tuesday, many Australians make this an unofficial very-long-weekend. Perhaps these folk are doing that? They, like many here at this park, and no doubt at many we have visited, own their caravan and annex which are permanently onsite. They pay about $3,500 per annum for this privilege and can stay in their own “bach” for 120 days without further charge. Any additional days are charged as we are. For this family of Mum, Dad and their three very little girls, it evidently makes good economic sense, offering a relatively cheap holiday. They do seem to be quite nice people, even though we have yet to engage in conversation, however the little ones are like all small children after a big day at the beach; tired, scratchy and loud. We do not need this so closely next door!

Having said all that, Chris has just been over to the office and paid for another day.

2 November 2012 - River Breeze Tourist Park, Moruya, Eurobodalla, NSW

I was so pleased to hear the birds this morning when I woke; surely when one is surrounded by forest and there is an avian silence, the world is in trouble? We had passed an uneventful night with only two more parties joining us. Given the situation with the lack of sanitary arrangements, it was just as well.

We headed off north again on the Princes Highway soon covering the eight kilometres to Bodalla, a tiny settlement with only about five hundred inhabitants. We did expect more of the place, having read about the All Saints Anglican Church built between 1883 and 1901, and were keen to see this and other old buildings. We were through the place before we realised, catching a glimpse of the Bodalla Dairy Shed and the grey granite church, stained with age, perched discretely in a clump of gums on a hill. Bodalla is a well-known historical cheese making township, centre of another wonderful dairying area and interestingly, Bodalla cheese is now a brand associated with Fonterra, the New Zealand dairy co-operative company. Parking spots for large rigs had not presented themselves in an obvious way and so we decided, yet again, to give it all away.

We chose instead to detour to Tuross Head on the coast, passing between the estuary lakes of the Tuross River and Coila Lake, the latter sitting just metres from open sea, surely open to it during wild storms. What a delightful settlement Tuross Heads is! Two thousand two hundred people live on this peninsula and we would have supposed that they were all retired folk until we passed thirty or so school children, all of a similar age, on a fresh air outing, so one can only assume that there are also many hundreds of child-rearing parents in the area.

We drove around and around admiring the homes and even more, their fabulous views, before heading back to the main road. The route continued much as it has all the way up this south east coast to date, the road up and down alternatively passing through forest, National Park and farmland, and after another sixteen kilometres, we arrived at Moruya, where we hoped to set up camp at the Showgrounds. Here there were no caravans or likely campers to be seen, nor any person who could shed light on the current situation. Truth be told, the showgrounds were advertised in Camps 5, but not Camps 6 and it would seem that yet another council had given way to the petulance of commercial operators.

We made our way down to the town and called at the library which doubles as the Information Centre. Alas, the librarian there, a lovely woman, was not familiar with dishing out advice for tourists, but did her best and directed us to a couple of caravan parks, the first out at Moruya Heads where one can stay for $37 a night and the second she was unable to raise by telephone. So we proceeded to find out in person, arriving at this park to learn that the tariff was $30, however a 10% discount was available to CMCA members, thus making it acceptable given the level of the tariffs up and down this coast. We booked in for three nights, with provision for extending. We spent some time chatting with the charming proprietors and by the time we left the office to set ourselves up, were feeling very warm and fuzzy about matters, despite the cost.

After lunch we walked back across the Moruya River to the town, intending to visit the museum, however by the time we arrived, it had been closed for nearly half an hour. Our schedule is unlikely to fit with the restricted opening hours however there is much natural beauty in the area to be enjoyed without burying ourselves too much in its past.

As we wandered up and down the streets, we paused to look at the statues hewn from trees, appreciating the skill in their making if not so much the finished product. We paused to read the interpretative panels on the granite memorial stone and learned that blue granite was quarried from the southern banks of the Moruya River for use in Sydney’s Martin Place Post Office, the Bank of NSW and the statue of Captain Cook in Sydney’s Botanic Gardens. A second quarry on the other side of the river provided stone for the piers and pylons of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, employing two hundred and fifty stonemasons between the years of 1925 to 1932.

The first European settlors arrived here in the 1820’s and the gradually increasing population was given a huge boost when gold was discovered  west of Moruya in the Araluen Valley in 1851, this becoming one of Australia’s richest gold fields (yet another superlative). Farming has been the mainstay of the area throughout the centuries and is now supplemented by the tourist dollar, from those coming to fish and enjoy the many beaches and estuaries that litter this fabulous coastline. The population today is just short of 4,000 and is home to the Eurobodalla Shire Council.

About a week ago, I saw that Batemans Bay was hosting the South Coast Caravan, Camping and Holiday Expo the weekend of 2nd to 4^th November and mentioned it in passing to my husband who just loves these shows. We did not think that we would realistically be able to attend without rushing north and missing out on some of our planned stopovers. However we are now only twenty five minutes away from Batemans Bay and so will travel up there tomorrow, still retaining our base here. We can, after all, have our cake and eat it too.

1 November 2012 - Bodalla Forest Park Rest Area, Princes Highway, NSW

As I start this, the sun has come out for the first time all day however we are well screened from that and the roadway by the tall gums all about. I do enjoy the fact that we can find a pleasant free camping spot for the night, but must confess to also appreciating endless electricity, which is only available when we are paying for a space in a commercial park. I am after all a modern person in a modern society just occasionally pretending to be a savage.

We were gone from Bega by 9.30 this morning, heading back north up the highway up and over steep hills, through lush farmland and great areas of State Forest and National Park. This all makes for lovely touring although Chris would prefer there were more passing lanes; he is one of those very considerate drivers who would, by preference, never hold anyone up on the road behind.

Roses in Cobargo

It had been our intention to stop in at Cobargo on the way back and so we did. This delightful village with its century old buildings can only be described as quaint. There are many gallery cum gift shops along with the normal newsagent, pharmacy, post office and supermarket. The latter is now a co-op owned by the residents who appear on our very brief visit to be slightly upmarket versions of those who inhabit Nimbin. We walked up and down the main street, “up and down” being the operative phrase because the street or main highway passes straight up the hill in good old Australian fashion, away from the river. I was delighted to see masses of glorious roses in full bloom all though the townscape; obviously the climate suits them well. We contributed nothing to the economy of the village although might have done so had we a house to show off the purchase of some wonderful ironwork sculpture by an artist named John Gosch. This was on display at a store along with the work of several other artists, all of whom take turns to man the outlet. Worth a look for sure.

Our next port of call would have been Central Tilba, a heritage listed village just one kilometre inland from the main highway. We turned west at the turnoff, passed through the tiny but pretty settlement of Tilba Tilba set on the lower slopes of Mt Dromedary and pressed on a couple of kilometres following a great tour bus along the winding road, suddenly arriving at Central Tilba. The bus driver had obviously been there before; he turned sharply into a pub car park and left us looking for somewhere to park ourselves. We spotted a sign for caravan parking and turned down into the area but it was already full of cars and one other rig; no room for us. The streets appeared narrow, busy and uninviting for the likes of our setup so we had no option but to carry on back to the highway. There is a cheese factory still making its wares in the time honoured manner, and craft shops aplenty, and probably just as many cafes to cater for the tourists who pour into the place and are lucky enough to find somewhere to park. Perhaps this observation is unfair, perhaps there is a great wide area we could have parked, however the directions were so poor we were unable to find any such place. And this is all probably our loss more than Central Tilba’s because as you will have surely realised by now, we are not very loose with our money.

So instead we travelled on just a few more kilometres and turned off this time toward the sea and down to Mystery Bay. We wanted to check out a camp advertised in Camps 6 with a view to possibly parking up and staying through. We had no difficulty finding the camp and it is indeed quite pretty, set back from the beach in a forest of trees, however we were unwilling to pay the $15 for no power when we did not have to. The fee is a site fee rather than a per person tariff and so would be greatly attractive to say, a tenting family.

We drove on down to the beach, parked and dined with views of the waves crashing onto the rocky shoreline. The “mystery” of the place is that five chaps simply vanished from a boat back in 1880; the boat holed from inside rather than out and no bodies to be found; it must have been a UFO.

Mystery Bay

After lunch we walked up to a lookout over the cliff edge and from there watched a great pod of whales, perhaps fifty or even a hundred, making their way down the coast, flippers, tails, spume, curved backs, all on show. What a joy to behold!

Our excitement was shared by a couple from Melbourne who were out for a tikki tour, originally immigrants from England. Alan regaled us for almost an hour with stories from his life reaching right back to his primary school years and facts about his years in the pottery industry. Boring is a word that comes to mind in many cases such as these, however he managed to both educate and entertain us, all the while as I watched the antics of the passing whales.

Finally I announced I was becoming cold in the sea breeze and drew an end to our meeting. And so we retreated to our respective vehicles and went on our way. We travelled on to Narooma, a seaside settlement with 8,500 people, where fishing and whale watching are the main tourist activities. The township is spread out over many little hills and gullies and while I had suggested we drive out to the heads of the inlet, I withdrew my request once I saw the terrain. I could well imagine Chris’s disgust as we laboured up to the top of a lookout track with little space to turn. Sometimes it just is not worth it.

We did pop into the Information Centre and picked up a few brochures about this area, the Eurobodalla Region, and I will endeavour to digest these this afternoon while there is still daylight.

On arrival we were met by the one other camper here at the time; a chap in a Toyota Hiace van armed with a spade. He asked if we were self-contained because the toilets were out of action. We assured him we were and he waved his spade and assured us the same.

Once set up, we checked out the forest walk leading from the car park here, and soon found ourselves on the two kilometre path down to Lake Mummuga and along its northern shoreline, passing through a forest of sheoaks, gums and an assortment of regrowth. I was delighted to find clematis in flower, its small white blooms at eye level rather than high in the canopy as you would see in New Zealand. Strangely the birds were all silent, if at all present; perhaps that is because the road noise is quite pervasive. On returning to the campsite we noted another caravan rig was just backing in to a posse. There will be at least three parties here tonight.

As I finish this, more sunshine has managed to fill the forest floor so perhaps just some of it is making its way to the solar panels and I can afford to be a little more frivolous with my power usage?

31 October 2012 - Bega Caravan Park, Sapphire Coast, NSW

Here we are back again and yes, the proprietor did receive our email through their website; they simply did not respond. I was quite annoyed by this until I recalled a conversation we had with our daughter regarding text messages, when she impressed upon us how important (and courteous) it was to acknowledge a text. But, we asked, where does the acknowledgement end? A bit of the chicken and the egg?

We had set the alarm to ensure a prompt rising however this was quite unnecessary; we were hitched up and out the gate by 8.30 am. The road was familiar since we had travelled it back and forwards as far as Pambula several times in the past few days, however the hills seemed steeper with a caravan in tow. Chris moaned and groaned about the landcruiser’s lack of power particularly in evidence as large heavily laden trucks overtook us on the passing lanes. I assured him that we were not in any hurry, and should not wish to live in the fast lane at all. He was not amused.

Despite the slow trip we were back in Bega well before 10 am, with plenty of time to call into both of the supermarkets to pick up a few provisions. (We do always seem to be shopping for food!)

Back up the hill at the camp, we were expected and soon set up adjacent to our site of last week. Here at the Bega Caravan Park, John likes to direct campers on to their sites, however he is not very clear as to exactly which site he intends one to back on to. This results in the driver, my very competent husband, appearing quite stupid, as he attempts to back on to the site he understand to be ours and John is giving contrary directions. In the meantime, those campers already established on their spot, watch the circus, hopefully recalling their own similar experience.

We watched the ABC News 24 for a couple of hours, seeing the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy on the Atlantic coastline then set off just before 2 pm to the north side of Bega to Anthony’s Car & Head Centre. Tony dropped us back in town, saving us the three kilometres walk in the 30 degree heat and we passed our time window shopping and I had my eyebrows tinted by a sweet little Chinese girl in one of those nail shops you find in malls. We spent the remaining time quietly reading in the council library. At 4 pm, we set off on foot along the Princes Highway, crossing the Bega River flood plain on a long bridge and arrived after half an hour in heat little reduced from the midday peak. The service had been carried out with no nasty surprises and so we paid and headed back to camp.

The birds have been quite active here at the camp today. Around midday a magpie mother showed great patience with her noisy offspring, almost as big as her, but still demanding to be fed. Remind you of anyone? And this afternoon crimson rosellas have joined the array of other residents here; there are an amazing number of birds here despite the fact that we are relatively close to the main highway.

30 October 2012 - Eden Gateway Tourist Park, Sapphire Coast, NSW

Sometimes it seems a shame to sit indoors at the computer when the sun is shining outside and the birds are singing or chiming, but then sometimes it is good just to have a rest day. Chris would surely roll his eyes if I were to suggest today has been restful because he has spent the greater part of the afternoon washing and polishing both the landcruiser and the caravan, the former in preparation for its service tomorrow. And I have done little but cook up a pot of bolognaise sauce for freezing and open and shut the caravan windows when instructed to do so.

We did catch up with Larissa last night and it was so wonderful to hear all about her trip especially the wonders she crammed into their four days in New York. I am sure we would need a month at least; however the Kiwi dollar does not go very far in such a grand international metropolis. And after all this, it was quite strange to watch the live stream on television today from the Atlantic coast and see a very different picture as the high winds and storm surges wreak havoc to the city.

And we did go for a walk this morning taking us away from the park for a couple of hours, however truth be told, some of that was spent chatting with people we met up with along the way. We set off along the boardwalk beside Lake Curalo, then along the spit that holds it all from spilling into the sea. Our maps have various versions of the Lake or Lagoon, sometimes, landlocked and sometimes running into the sea at the north eastern end, so we went to see for ourselves what the situation really was. Today it is landlocked, but maybe if we were to visit in another month or year, we would find the contrary.

Walking back along Asling Beach, we came upon a class or two from the Eden Marine High School, stripping off their outer layers on the walkway and scurrying off into the surf. Some had obviously excused themselves from the salty activity and were instead rambling along to the far end of the beach. Either way, we wondered what this had to do with education.

We continued on along the pathway which then heads up the hill to the first of the lookouts and there encountered a threesome in earnest conversation regarding whale movements, the Whale Festival that is on here this coming weekend and the wonders of Merimbula. We added our bit and were soon part of the general chit chat. Finally we all parted company and we went on up to Eden’s CBD, bought ourselves a newspaper, succumbed to temptation and purchased a lotto ticket to tonight’s Big One and called into the BiLo supermarket for a few bits and pieces, before returning along the main road to camp.

And so our day has been less exciting than many others but still satisfying, as is every day. Tomorrow we will head back to Bega. I did email the camping ground there through one of those website “contact” facilities, but have had no answer. It would seem that they do not work; the email system, that is. We will just turn up in the morning; I am sure they can fit us in.

29 October 2012 - Eden Gateway Tourist Park, Sapphire Coast, NSW

Having spent yet another lovely day touring the region, we have returned to camp to attempt yet again to link up with our daughter on Skype. We managed to have an excellent conversation with my parents last night and now we just need to check all is well with Larissa, who with her husband, has spent the last few weeks on the east coast of the USA, returning just in time to miss the terrible storms that have the whole coast on alert.

This morning we headed back north on the Pacific Highway, passing through Pambula and on out to Merimbula. I had noted down a couple of must dos, one of which was the boardwalk walking track along the northern shore of the Top Lake, part of the estuary that almost surrounds this seaside town. We crossed the lower reaches of the lake on the road bridge near the town centre and were at once adjacent to the car park, so took immediate advantage of the opportunity.

The walking track is only a distance of 1.75 kilometres each way, most of it on boardwalk elevated above the edge of the cleanest of inlets. Oyster farms cover most of the lake; however there are narrow clearways for boats to travel up from the sea and for kayakers to puddle about. It seemed that most of the Merimbula population were out making good use of the facility; dog walkers, mothers pushing prams, grandparents with grandchildren, fat women and fat couples, athletic slim young things, you name it, they were all there.

From there we moved the cruiser along the road a little, close to the Information Centre, picked up a street map and set off on a walk about the town which lies on the hill side. I had expected it to be a fairly large place but a seaside resort rather than a service centre like Bega. We were surprised therefore to find out how big it really was.

The population in 2006, within a radius of ten kilometres of the centre was 17,000; however the town proper only had a population of 3,775. That larger area encompasses the satellite towns of Pambula, Pambula Beach, South Pambula and Tura Beach. Apart from the trendy boutiques and cafes, the town also has a Woolworths, a Best & Less (budget fashion and linen), a Country Target (for more of the same), Rivers and Go Lo, basic shops which any self-respecting town that is not right up itself should have, in my opinion.

We drove further around the bay and sat in the cruiser out of the wind eating our lunch watching others brave the blustery conditions and delighting in the views across the “harbour” and up toward the town. It really is a charming place and would be even more so without the wind. Refuelled, we followed the coastline around until we found ourselves parked up above the ocean beach at Short Point, at the entrance of Back Lake which really is the estuary of the Merimbula Creek. Here at Merimbula there really is something for everyone; surf, river, estuary, lake and hill.

We had considered driving up the coastal road to Tura Beach, which we had seen from Short Point, but then thought there was little point in doing so, and instead headed back toward the Pacific Highway, turning back toward the coast near Pambula, to Pambula Beach. It too has something for everyone, although there seem to be few shops if any and is a mini version of Merimbula. We parked by the mouth of the Pambula River and watched a skilled kite surfer skip back and forwards across the lumpy entrance and a small fishing boat head out into seas which looked far too big for such a small craft.

A kite surfer at Pambula Beach

Heading back again toward Pambula, we pulled into Panboola, a conservation and rehabilitation site, encompassing 77 hectares of wetland, farmland, the remains of the old racetrack, saltmarsh and the river. We did see birds and a large mob of roos in the centre of the racetrack watching us watching them. I also watched a small Golden-headed Cisticola, small like a finch, perched on the seed head, swaying in the breeze. He was a first and the name is fabulous, is it not? I am always happy to wander in the fresh air surrounded by nature, in places such as this even more so than the seaside.

And that was enough walking and sightseeing for the day so from here it was straight home, sort out of the eski, a couple of cups of coffee and a good sit down with the day’s newspaper, which is still full of Syrian bloodshed, the ensuing American election and today, the Asian whitepaper from Julia, full of promise and vision but little in the way of the “how”. Pure spin, but then is that not what politics are all about?

28 October 2012 - Eden Gateway Tourist Park, Sapphire Coast, NSW

What a difference a day makes, or rather what a difference the wind makes. By the time we rose this morning, the sun had long been up and the wind was barely evident at all. By the time we had finished our breakfast, the caravans flanking our site had departed and so the day looked altogether very promising. We decided that we would extend our stay here after all, so went over to the office and spent some time chatting with the proprietoress, learning all about their park owning history and how this park has only recently undergone rebranding. She is just lovely and we could have chatted all day, however we had other plans.

With lunch packed yet again in the eski, we set off north along the Princes Highway, firstly turning into the residential area on the northern shore of Twofold Bay. This is a relatively new subdivision, already quite populated with lovely modern homes but with many more bare sections and spec homes for sale. The views toward Eden are through sparse gums and across the glistening blue waters of Lake Curalo and Calle Calle Bay. On the higher slopes, a small mob of roos lay about contemplating the scene, which today was particularly lovely. In time this will all be built up, and even though the houses are south facing, will no doubt always be a rather sought after area.

Colours of The Pinnacles

We returned to the Princes Highway and continued north, turning off just eight kilometres from Eden into the northern section of the Ben Boyd National Park. All the roads into this section are gravel, even the central route that takes one out to Haycock Point. We turned again eastwards following the sign to The Pinnacles, parked and walked the easy one kilometre track out along the coastal cliffs to view those in the gully; fluted pinnacles of red contrasting with the white sandstone. Beyond lay the long expanse of white sandy beach and the sea as blue as sapphires, surely validating the name of this coast, the Sapphire Coast. 

From up above the beach we looked out across the Pacific Ocean, and saw both fishing boats and whale watching boats, and away from all of these, the triumphant tails of the great whales as they cavorted and dived, or whatever they do when they are showing off their magnificence. Two days in a row seeing this had to be pretty special. And today the sea was so much calmer, even here in the open ocean. It is quite wonderful that we have been able to watch the whales migrating north along the northern NSW coast in July this year and now see them heading south again with their progeny.

We drove on out to Haycock Point, the south head of Merrimbula Bay, and sat on the cliff edge watching the waves crash onto the rocky outcrops. Finally we stirred ourselves and returned to the picnic area where we dined in the company of dragon flies, a rather rag eared black wallaby and honeyeaters, noisy in the banksias. We sat in the open drinking in the warm sunlight, while being very sensible, well slathered with sunscreen.

Back on the road, we drove on to Pambula, passed through a couple of days ago. Today, Sunday, it was very quiet but for the highway traffic passing through and the few cafes open to cater for them. We wandered about this clean and tidy little town however did not find it quite as attractive as we remembered. Obviously it needs the buzz of the weekday commerce to activate its charm.

From Pambula, we headed inland a little way on the road to Bombala, but turned off a couple of kilometres up the Pambula River and headed into the hills on a back road, finally finding a sign directing us to the Nethercote Falls in the Broadwater State Forest. The route is very much a forest track which does not deter those looking out for the falls. We arrived at a picnic spot and noted a sign pointing to the Nethercote Flora Reserve down a dirt track, so parked and set off on foot. The road descended at about 45 degrees for about a kilometre, or maybe it was only 40 degrees for 800 metres, however it felt like the former. At the bottom we found yet another parking spot and two vehicles, the drivers of which had been savvy enough to bring on down. A rough path of a similar distance crossed the creek, passed through the forest and brought us out into a rocky basin beneath the falls, the water clear as crystal over a base of golden pebbles. Two couples had preceded us, as we expected, one a hugely pregnant woman in inappropriate footwear accompanied by her rather handsome Arabic man and the other two, middle aged lesbians.

One of the lesbians set off up the cliff face to see more of the falls which turn mid-fall, pausing in a cave like basin before cascading down the last easily visible section. As she scrambled up higher and higher, I became quite anxious for her safety and was relieved when her partner confided, amongst many matters, that she was well versed in rock climbing and abseiling. The woman remaining below, overweight and not at all surefooted, was more concerned about the fact that her partner had gone up wearing the wrong shoes and was carrying their very expensive camera. I watched as the photographer seemed to hang out over the high precipice to capture the very best shots and just hoped like hell that we would not be there to see her fall, despite her apparent agility.

The falls were lovely, but I was more impressed with the pools below and would have stripped down to my underwear and eased myself gently in had that dark foreign looking gentlemen not been there, just as I had north of Townsville over a year ago. It was all so very inviting.

We left the two couples dabbling their extremities in the pools and set off back up the hill, no easy matter I can assure you. As we retraced our steps, we were met by half a dozen young people all armed with their togs and towels and agreed we had left the peace of the pool at just the right time. And before we arrived back at the vehicle, two more cars arrived with more young people. Yes, definitely pumpkin hour for us.

And so we carried on down the back road, through a place called Nethercote, which apparently hosts an excellent weekly produce market, but seems to have little else than a fire station. Then ten kilometres on further south east, we were back in Eden and home again after an excellent day. As we unpacked the cruiser, we noted the wind had come up a little. Again our timing was perfect.