My Spirit Place - Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park

Finished with the Riverboat Postman by 1pm. The weather is a bit iffy (ie rainy), but we decide to head on over to Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park and see when we get there if it's OK for going for a walk and a swim. It's considerably further east from where we are here at Brooklyn and we need to head back down the Pacific Highway to Mona Vale Road and thence take the turn at McCarrs Creek Rd.

I must be getting old. Maybe it's all part of empty nest syndrome or something, but travelling down past Turramurra and down Mona Vale road turns the amplifier up on my emotions of this morning. Mona Vale road is a very large road, 6 lanes, however it is a very lovey road too, and of course the major route for travelling from my childhood home to my Aunty's place at Turramurra.
All of the upper north shore is just beautiful. The locals love trees, the streets are green and shady and the fact that they get way more rain than the rest of Sydney doesn't hurt at all.
We take a comfort stop at the new facilities at Resolute picnic area and change into our swimming togs (cozzies). I am absolutely thrilled to see that the picnic area has a wonderful stand of Sydney Red Gums (Angophera Costata) which I can photograph to show you. I am hoping very much to do justice to this magnificent tree which has added so much to my enjoyment of our bushland wanderings over the last week or so.

On one of the trunks you can make out the patches of grey. Notice the beautiful curly branches which lead up to a glorious canopy of limey green new growth.

I spend an age photographing the bark of the trees in the picnic area. I am highly delighted to find heaps of magnificent bark specimens on mature trees that are suited to my purpose. There is even a red gum who is just starting to shed, it's bark breaking up and starting to curl in just the way I've been hoping to find ...

The bark sheds and forms a beautiful confetti of rich colour around the base of the tree. Everywhere in the bush about now each tree is putting on a spectacular bark shedding show. The colours of around this tree are simply glorious. A symphony of rich browns.

Another delightful feature of Angophera Costata is that it's roots don't choose to stay underground, rather they emerge in places to be surrounded with a beautiful carpet of leaf litter providing a lovely companion to a lichen encrusted rock close by.

But wait! There's more! Sydney red gum also has that feature we all loved as a kid, when it bleeds it's sap dries to a glossy red which sparkles in the sun like jewels and stains the trunk beautifully...

This picnic ground doesn't just have magnifient red gums though. There's also the grey gum (Eucalyptus punctata). At this time of year the bark is a textured grey, but in the cooler months it also sheds it's bark exposing bright orange bark, which especially after rain is like a beacon in the bushland. It is especially noticeable in the bushland reserves around Kentlyn near Campbelltown. One of my top three native trees. The Sydney Red Gum is number 1 of course.

The other in the trio, is also in shedding mode. This one I find when we get back to the parking area for the Steel and Flint track. Scribbly gum (Eucalyptus haemostoma).

Surely all Australians love scribbly gum, being promoted as it is in Snugglepot and Cuddlepie - children's books by May Gibbs and Australian classics. The scribbly gum often is multi-trunked like this one. They like a sandy soil, so I've had to plant another scribbly gum rather than haemostoma in my own garden.

The bark delights of the picnic ground are not yet exhausted however, there is also what I think is a bloodwood, it's tesselated bark stained almost black with sap flows on either side of its trunk.

And this other fellow I'm sure of the species.. these ones seem particularly attractive to green lichen and the whole trunk often gives a green effect.

The bark is a key diagnostic feature for identifying Australian trees one from the other - ark and gum nuts - leaves are less helpful as so many have similar leaves.

We head back to the Flint and Steel Track we park and make our way down the slope. The sound of cicadas dominates. It is the sound of summer. In a short time we come to snatches of views across Broken Bay to a sandy shore.
The path is mostly pretty rough which is the way I prefer my bush tracks but in places proper stairs have been constructed which help to navigate the steeper sections. The whole walk is basically a climb down the hill to the beach (for swimming) or the point (for fishing). Change in elevation is over 200 metres I understand.

Alongside the stairs is a beautiful stand of spear trees.

There are a number of obstacles in the form of fallen trees along the path at the moment. Some are easier to navigate than others. This one gives us pause for thought. At first I think perhaps under might be best, but no, too close to the ground so unless I plan to slither along on the dirt like a snake.....how about going round.. hmm.. slope too steep and vegetated..Hubby is taller than me of course and he finds it a fairly simple endeavour to just put his foot on the trunk and hop over...with no other option I finally manage to climb over it OK after handing over everthing I was carrying.
We come to a sign letting us know we've got 700m to go and follow the directions to the beach. Pretty soon we emerge onto the edge of a gully with cabbage palms, moist and shady and a delight to walk through.

We emerge to an area with a cluster of trunked black boys. These are popular for home gardens but they never look better than in their native environment.

We continue to get snatches of superb views across the water and can hear the surf breaking on the beach before emerging just above the beach with views across to Lion Island and out to the Pacific Ocean across Broken Bay.

Kangaroo grass is all around. This is my very most favourite native grass and has extremely ornamental seed heads making a lovely frame for this shot of the water views.

We have passed a couple of groups of people coming down and are delighted to find that we have the beach to ourselves. It was stroke of genius to come a couple of days before christmas when people are busy with their preparations for the celebrations.

The crabs are still hanging on on this beach and we have to take care to avoid disturbing anyone's home.
I chase hubby away the dune grass, it can't take being walked on, and we deposit our belongings. Hubby heads straight for the water, but I'm in camera mode and want to get some shots of a magnificent red gum that is growing straight out of the rocks of the headland. While I'm there I have a look over at the rock pools, where I admire the neptune's necklace. This seaweed is great to play with for kids (when you can find stuff that's already dislodged from the rocks of course!) Squeezed in just the right way each segment can be shot at your siblings or friends. It's marvellous fun.

As I pick my way around on the rocks trying hard not to step on anyone I think of the carpet of periwinkles and turbans and other shells that were so thick on the rocks at Long Reef and Narrabeen when I was a kid that you couldn't walk on the rocks. No problem for modern man of course. Just put something on your feet and go ahead and trample the poor creatures. I don't know whether it was the foot traffic or the pollution, or probably both, but the rocks are comparatively bare in these places now so it is nice to see at least a smattering of shells here.
I was reading in Nevil Shute's Beyond the Black Stump that in Oregon USA they have (or had) what they call "primitive areas" where the protagonists were not allowed to hunt with guns or take motorised vehicles. Only horses and bow and arrow. I guess our wilderness areas are the equivalent - in our case it's only walk in walk out and definitely no hunting... I think to myself that perhaps we should have places where you are only allowed to go in bare feet.. that would give people pause for thought before rampaging around off the track or over the rock platform across the white worms and periwinkles...

I join hubby for a swim. Heading out past the breakers it is still shallow enough to stand. The swell just enough to provide entertainment. We discuss my shoe free zone idea for a while. As we frolic in the water a small school of fish start leaping out of the water in front of us as they are chased no doubt by a bigger fish. A few shark jokes later and we swim a lap of the beach and wander together over to the rocks.

It just doesn't get better than the weathered sandstone around Sydney and the formations and colours here are superlative. Exactly what I've been looking for. I take a heap of photos, most of which have turned out wonderfully.

Hubby draws my attention to a lace monitor that is wandering about the rocks. He's making his way away but does not seem overly fussed.

We can hear occassional thunder from the clouds building. Typical of a warm Sydney summer day by the coast (when we're not in severe drought of course).
We begin to head back to the sand and snap some more photos of this magnificent red gum which seems to be growing out of sheer rock. This is Sydney's tree and this is the time of year to really appreciate her. Isn't she a beauty with her party dress on!!

Its coming on for 4:30 and there is some shade on the sand. We think it might be nice to spread our towels in the shade and relax for a while. We mosey on over but everywhere has someone's home so we decide we'll just go sit on the rocks for a bit.
As we sit enjoying the serenity the peace is violently and comprehensively destroyed by a jet ski travelling along with a large pleasure boat. I think bad thoughts directed at this person and comment to hubby that I'm sure this individual is having fun, but why does his fun have to be so intrusive on everyone else?.. Hubby replies "yeah, I was just thinking they should bring back guns.." This peace shattering device can still be heard at an intrusive level when it must be several kms away.. grrr... it is quite a contrast to the older working boat that follows a little while later and which we can barely hear at all. We appreciate our good fortune that for the time we've been here the noisier vessels have not been around as we did hear several when walking down that were loud enough to annoy us even there.
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As we sit over on the rocks the raven that was on the beach when we arrived flies back down. He's clearly glad to see the back of us.

We toy with the idea of another swim, but we're relatively dry and I don't think my skin is keen for any more sun and it's starting to spit with rain a little. It's not real comfy walking up the hill dripping wet either, so we decide that we'll head off but swear to come back again soon.
Hubby tears off up the path ahead not keen to watch me stop every 5 feet for photographs. I head off in bare feet as was the custom all through my childhood. I find the path a lot easier to negotiate that way and there is a beautiful soft layer of she-oak leaf fall most of the way providing a lovely surface to walk on. Before he gets too far ahead, hubby requests I photograph a great rock that is sitting by the path.

Alone to commune with the environment I enjoy the song of a grey shrike thrush and the maniacal cackle of a grey butcher bird as I climb the steep steps along the way. The scenery strikes you quite differently heading in the opposite direction. It's a lovely walk very natural without the track being overly intrusive in many sections.

At one point in need of a break I notice a lovely clump of grass that is wavering in the breeze.
Steel and Flint Beach is a beach you have to work for. It's not an easy walk in either direction. Thank goodness for that. May it stay a (relatively) isolated place of beauty..
We decide to give West Head a miss today. It has spectacular views out across Pittwater and Barrenjoey to the Pacific Ocean and is certainly worth a look if you haven't seen it and have the time.
As we drive in the direction of the park entrance we pull over as I want to try to photograph what I believe to be Angophera Floribunda which I have been seeing this week everywhere in abundant bloom.

Stopping we notice that here and there all around among the other wildflowers are christmas bells in flower. How delightful! They are only small but a very pretty wildflower and I guess they hold a special place being another of the flowers associated with the christmas period.

Nearby one of the local grevilleas is also blooming.
With so many wildflowers around we decide to walk the Willunga walk. This is a short walk of only 1.5 kms return. We are quickly rewarded with flowering hakea sericea - a very tough spiky plant that gets horny fruits.

There's another that looks a lot like a dainty drumsticks, and a very fine little purple grevillea, very subtle like many native flowers it would be easy to miss. There are bushes of tiny yellow pea shaped flowers, and lots of tiny white starry flowers on low plants near the ground. There is even a tiny tiny little purple pea flower that couldn't be more than 2 mm across. Very dainty indeed.

We also come across a spear tree with a spear under construction.

Though the walk is level for quite a while it begins to climb and there are glimpses over the water to the north. Eventually you emerge however, to a natural lookout over the bushland as far as the eye can see south towards Sydney and to the south east across Pittwater crowded with moored boats and Newport to the Ocean. It is breathtaking. Here I catch up with hubby who is sitting on a rock (there is no fencing here) soaking it up. By now it's about 6 oclock so with that and the cloud the light could be better for point and shoot photography...

The trees round about have new growth - ie new gum tips in the local language. The new growth glows red. One tree is really putting in an effort with both gum tips and blossom.

It's starting again to rain a little and we reluctantly get up to go. The path down is easy of course and I am struck by the intense russet velvet of new growth on a bansia serrata. The banksia serrata are preparing to flower everywhere we've been lately but I haven't been able to get in position to be able to photograph them. At any rate this new growth is very striking, the red will pale and disappear as the leaves grow.

This day on the Hawkesbury and particularly in Ku-ring-gai chase national park has been somewhat of an epiphany. All the things I have been looking for to decorate the new house, I realise are from this place. This place of my earliest childhood. My spirit place. Suddenly I know where I want my ashes scattered with a certainty that is somehow a deep sense of peace. My father wants to be scattered over Pittwater or Broken Bay, his will gives instructions and allots money for us to hire a boat for a period and spend time in this place in his memory. This is his spirit place too and I finally understand in a way I never have before.

The Riverboat Postman

We have chosen to take the Riverboat Postman today. We toyed with taking the train to avoid peak hour traffic, but having listened to the radio traffic reports it's sounding like lots of other people have also taken these few days before christmas off work and the train fare and travel time is just not competitive, so it's car to Brooklyn for us today.

As expected it's a quick and free flowing trip. M7 and the start of the F3 before exiting at the Berowra Waters exit and taking the Old Pacific Highway to Brooklyn. The Old Pacific Hwy is a lovely road to drive. Quite curvy through the beautiful bushland, and so long as we're not on it too long we always enjoy it.

We arrive at Brooklyn half an hour or so early. We pass through the village which has some interesting looking shops that might be worth exploring. Parking not a problem today. We decide to amuse ourselves by exploring the point. As we walk along the side of the road I am transported by the heavenly fragrance of blooming wattle and breathe deeply. With it's blossom newly open it is shining golden ecstacy.



There's a number of eateries in the Marina complex. Looks quite nice, especially the eggs benedict on english muffin, but 2 days before christmas we're trying to be good on the eating front while we can. Further to the east there is a quite nice Federation Walk, which finishes at a display of interesting historical information about the use and development of this place. There is also a nice little kids playground and some baths. It's a lot nicer than it looks from the train as you pass by!

We drag our heels here reading the panels but tear ourselves away and front up at the little shed for Hawkesbury River Ferries make our payment and board the Hawkesbury Explorer.

The Hawkesbury Explorer is a fairly spacious but modest vessel. The antithesis of tourist slick. Manned by real people there's no pretensions here. Inside downstairs is a large space with modest kiosk counter at the front and a number of booths each with a table fitted out around the windows. The seats are comfortable and padded, but they are a bit shabby. The marine carpet on the floor is a bit stained in places. It's hitting deep chords for me as the smell of the boat (which is not unpleasant) transports me back decades to my grandparents motor cruiser. Emotions I can't quite express are bubbling up as we settle in and relax. Best I can say is that it feels like coming home after a lifetime away.

It's quite sunny as we board and most of the other passengers have made a B line to the upper deck where there are chairs laid out, but no shade. My skin just can't take that for 4 hrs and indeed if it stays sunny it would be too hot up there so we make a selection among the booths and open the window. Some minutes figuring out how they work and bob's your uncle we settle in and pretty soon we're underway on our exploration of the beautiful Hawkesbury River and the little settlements along the way, most of which have no road access.

The weather forecast is for showers thismorning but top temps of between 27 and 32 C. Our brief flash of hot sun as we boarded has given way to a generally overcast sky damping the colours of the estuary and it turns out damping the light for the photographs, but we do our best with our modest point and shoot. It doesn't do the area justice of course, but perhaps that's just as well. You need to discover the Hawkesbury for yourself.

As we get underway our captain informs us that we are about an hour upstream from the area where the river meets the sea. Our first stop is Little Wobby to the freight wharf for the Sport and Rec camp. We are met by a camp vehicle and a passenger Quite a few boxes are unloaded with the mail and we're off once more heading to Dangar Island - the most picturesque of the village wharves along the way. Our captain gives us the run down on Dangar Island as we approach.

The boat ties up and is greeted by a young local woman in overalls. The lass from the boat hands over the mail box and hops off for a christmas best wishes and a kiss and a spot of friendly chat. The box goes in a blue wheelbarrow and heads back to the shed and we're off and heading for Kangaroo Point and the bridges upstream.

Kangaroo Point is one of only a couple of stops on the mail run that also has road access. It's nestled right by the most eastern of the bridges. I head upstairs to be in a good position for photographing the bridges as we pass. The first is the railway bridge which is by far the nicer of them. Quite characterful.

Before long we are passing under the newer bridges that carry the F3 Freeway across the estuary. The F3 is part of National Road 1 which runs... certainly the whole way up the east coast of the continent at any rate, and at this point forms part of a very very heavily utilised commuter route between the Central Coast and Sydney as well as a major route for freight trucks.

We are given ample commentary on the history of the highway and the bridges. All very interesting and I find it particularly interesting to think about what the situation was like in my grandparents day. When my father was born there were no bridges here, as indeed there was no bridge across Sydney harbour either.

Our next stop with road access is Peat Island. This is a government run facility with residential accommodation for people with mental impairment. Our commentary provides some history and I try again to think of the nickname we used to have for peat island. Which as kids we always noted on our way to Lake Macquarie to visit our grandparents when they relocated. Terribly insensitive and politically incorrect, but gosh I wish I could remember what we called it. As the mind deteriorates memories from younger years remain or become more accessible... maybe I should ask Dad if he remembers it! LOL

As we head upstream the red gums are prominent in the bushland cloaking the hillsides having recently shed their bark which over the year turns a steel grey in colour.
After a while I rise again to take some shots from the doorway and notice that you can actually head out on to the bow and this we promptly do. I my bare feet the smooth unvarnished and weather worn boards are very sensual.

Next stop Milson Island, another government run Sport and Recreation camp for school kids. I haven't been to Little Wobby or Milson Island Camps, but in year 5 we went to Broken Bay Sport and Rec Camp which is closer to the ocean and Pittwater. It was truly awesome. I will refrain from posting a piccy of the wharf at Milson Island. It is very attractive, but I don't want to leave you with no surprises to discover for yourself.

Further upstream I am fascinated listening to the commentary as we are told to look over to the left. This is a locality known as Cascade Gully. There on the shore lies what little remains of the first HMS Parramatta. We get some interesting detail about what happened to the other remains of the ship and it's construction and war time service. Very interesting.

Bar Point is our next stop. I find this interesting also as the real estate agent back at the marina had a number of local properties for sale ranging in price from $300,000 to up around $700,000. No road access. This is the largest of the river settlements the postman sometimes has several stops along Bar Point, but today just the one.

Up in this quiet area of the river there are a few houseboats anchored or motoring around, and the odd cute little fishing trawler working. Just small one man operations and quite characterful.

As we turn a (large) bend in the river we note information about several small settlements not on today's mail run and the location of the passage up to Berowra Waters. Up in this area the river is lined with mangroves in large stretches and it is all very beautiful. We depart civilisation for the 25 minutes or so it takes to reach Marlow our final upstream stop before turning around. As we travel and I jot down my notes I think I see large jellyfish passing under the boat out of the corner of my eye. After a couple I comment to hubby who confirms that I am not imagining it. As a kids we often saw large schools of jellyfish and true to form this same species is around. They are huge with large cauliflower-like protuberances hanging from them. Further along we see a milk bottle floating in position on the water, cap down, not far away we see a tinny with a small group who are progressively checking their crab pots.

Slightly narrower and protected the water is like glass. Here we find a boat with a learner water skiier trying and trying again without success to get up on the skis.

Finally we approach Marlow and wave to a sizeable group on a pontoon as we make our way to the wharf. On this occassion the postman is greeted by a local dog. It's a working dog breed, but evidently not well enough trained to actually take delivery of the mail. Skippy (the bush kangaroo) could show this dog a thing or two!
By the way, behind the wharf, that red flowering bush is what is known here as "christmas bush" no doubt because it colours up at the right time. At christmas those who don't grow this lovely native plant themselves and who are not content just to admire it in the bush can buy it at florists to decorate their homes at christmas... one of my favourite christmas songs is about christmas bush....but I digress...
I am interested to be informed that this far up the next settlement is Spencer which helps me place the locality in perspective. We turn and start the (faster) trip downstream. This time we find a boat towing a couple of kids on boogie boards or air beds or something. We used to do that behind Dad's speed boat when we were kids. It is great fun no matter what the speed, doesn't have to be very fast, though these kids today are going very quick.

Next stop is Milson Passage, which we passed earlier nearby Milson Island. There's a few birds around here. Chestnut Teal and pelicans.

It's low tide now and on the mud flats edging part of Milson Island a small speed boat is pulled up. Four kids are floundering around on the mud, sinking deep and then crawling along dragging a small bucket. They must be yabbinging for bait. I look for a yabby pump and think I see one but can't be sure.. wish I'd remembered to bring the binoculars!! Ah yabbying. That's awesome fun too and often a feature of our days on my grandparents boat. The yabbies would sit in a big dish of sea water. The entertainment of small children a happy by product.. yabbies are unsurpassed bait for bream, which we would have no trouble catching with Dad's magic fishing rod.

We make another stop at Peat Island. This time to collect mail for post. As we pass again under Mooney Mooney bridge the breeze picks up and we can suddenly smell the salt in the air again.

We make a second stop at Dangar Island. This time there's noone on the wharf. Our ship's mate disembarks and walks up the shed and returns with a man and a cute little boy of about 5 yrs who is carrying the post box down to the boat. Our captain comes down from the wheelhouse and spends some time talking lovingly to the little boy and telling him he's always welcome he just needs to get the OK from his daddy....

We pull away once more. We are passed by a bloke standing in a tinny* travelling pretty fast. I am impressed at his balance standing at that speed as he steers directly with the tiller on the outboard motor. He's decked out in stubbies and a jackie howe. You don't see that as often as you once did ......pulls so many cultural strings in me... he's moving too fast to get a photo.....

(*translation - tinny - small aluminium boat; stubbies - a particular type of very short men's pants; jackie howe - blue singlet . It's named after Jackie Howe the greatest Australian sheep shearer. see http://www.jackiehowe.com.au/3.html )

As we near the bridge we catch up with the cute little one man trawler. The boat chugging along the fisherman apparently cleaning his catch as they travel.

We arrive back at Brooklyn at about 1pm. We ate our picnic of chicken and tzatziki sandwiches on board, but we could have got a fish and chips deal for $10. Anyway we head off. It's a bit rainy. As we have the car we are leaning to going for a walk in Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park. The weather is a bit iffy, but we decide to head on over there and see when we get there. It's considerably further east from where we are and we need to head back down the Pacific Highway to Mona Vale Road and thence take the turn at McCarrs Creek Rd.

No doubt this has been a long post so Part 2 of this glorious day I will post separately.

Cockatoo Run, Free City Circle Bus and Watson's Bay

Today we are finally off on the Cockatoo Run! I've been wanting to do this trip for absolutely ages. We drive into Central as we have dinner reservations in town after the trip and we both hate travelling by train late at night, its not the safety angle more the tedium of sitting on station platforms for ages if you miss the train.

We make perfect time for the trip, though with hubby in charge I think we actually walked around to Platform 1 in a big circle. Still, I'm not sorry as along the way we pass through a long corridor with old rolls of honour from the various wars. Generally the Great War and WWII, an occassional Korea honour. All in beautiful timber with that patina of age. I would like to stop and take some photos but hubby's concerned we'll be late and expects we'll be back this way later...

Arriving at platform 1 is a nostalgic adventure. I haven't been here for ages. It was this platform that we would come to pick up my maternal grandparents from their nifty sleeper cabin on the train from Townsville when they came south for a visit.

We board the train right on time, taking a moment to snap the loco. Someone at 3801 has a knack for marketing, this baby's been christened the Illawarra Treetop Flyer!


We settle into our carriage. Strangely, though the carriage has plenty of spare space (which we are encouraged to occupy) our allocated seats face backwards while the forward facing ones opposite are unallocated. We quickly swap.

These old carriages date from the times that the Unanderra to Robertson line was opened ie early 1930s. There is a lovely little wooden table for us to use and the seats are well padded and comfortable. Best of all, the windows open up to allow a good breeze through the carriage. Ah, those were the days. When they were still operational who would have thought we could miss the old red rattlers and their opening windows! I guess on a hot summer day the modern air conditioned carriages do have their advantages!

We depart Central right on time as we were warned in the information we were sent. The first part of the trip is the standard metropolitan journey down through Redfern, though it is entertaining having the window open and of course we are buoyed with excitement to be on the train at last. We had been disappointed we just couldn't make it on the trip while the steam loco was on loan from Lachlan Valley, but we are pleased to find that the heritage diesel makes an appropriately chuffy sort of sound as it runs and we don't miss the steam engine at all. Still vastly different from the modern electric, or the other up to date forms of motive power.

Our journey takes us down through Hurstville and Sutherland and we find it quite interesting to see this area from this perspective as we have not been through this train line before. The rail line is lined by cute cottages and more recent apartment blocks.
In due course we start getting to the bushland regions around Jannali to the south. The Sydney Red Gums are prominent in the bush with their bark peeling and showing their russet velvet textured and dimpled trunks. Everywhere there are beautiful orange and red gum tips making a lovely show. Angophera Floribunda is here and there heavily flowering. At one point alongside the railway line a long stand of christmas bush is turning red. We generally say christmas bush is flowering when it's red, but actually the flowers are earlier and after they fall the sepals gradually turn a good strong red right at christmas time.

I am surprised to see lots of Black Wattle in flower. Mine finished months ago.


Down past the Royal National Park our volunteer carriage attendants point out the Sydney Tramway Museum at Loftus. This I am interested to see as it is on my list of things to do (eventually).

The driver blows the whistle as we approach a couple of tunnels and again as we pass a RailCorp work gang working around the tracks. We pass over a tall viaduct and are able to admire it as we travel its curve.


The bushland is beautiful. Tree ferns in the moister shady places, cabbage palms and some scattered flowering persoonia with it's dainty inforescences of yellow tubular flowers and its fine pine like foliage in a rich green. We note the equestrian centre on the opposite side as we chuff along heading for Stanwell Tops.
On our arrival at Otford we see what Daughter was talking about when she said the worst part of the Otford to Bundeena walk is the walk from the station at Otford to the start of the walk. It's very steep around the station.
Past the station our whistle blows again and a sulfur crested cockatoo sits in a tree snowy feathered with it's crest raised it looks so lovely. Sulfur cresteds are lovely birds... until they open their mouths. They must have the least attractive voice of any Australian bird. No question.

We break through to glimpses and finally broad views of a glorious blue ocean and the yellow sandy beach of Stanwell Park. It is glorious weather today and the ocean is a spectacular colour after a long period of grey skies and grey harbour and ocean views. Lawrence Hargreaves lookout is up on the hill, the hang gliders are out in force today riding the thermals which reliably frequent this part of the coast.
We get the smallest glimpse of Seacliffe Bridge as we travel slowly but surely down from the escarpment.
We have been reading along the way about the history of the line, the challenging gradients involved and the detail about the technical aspects is both interesting and refective of the fact that to volunteer to run a railway you are rather likely to have a keen interest in all things railway!

We pass down through a coal mine site and our guide makes a point of explaining to us how the coal is processed before being transported down to the steel works at Port Kembla to the south.

Almost immediately we enter a long tunnel. Our guide shows us the light at the end of the tunnel as this tunnel is almost completely straight. Towards the end though, it takes a turn and the tunnel curves. This is to catch the southerly breeze and blow the smoke out of the tunnel. Impressive engineering all along the way.

We pass through Coledale and along the railway embankment a great expanse of honeysuckle is in flower and the beautiful fragrance fills the carriage as we pass.

Down on the flat we pick up speed. Blowing our whistle in long strong blasts as we approach a string of level crossings. Quite a novelty as level crossings have been pretty much eliminated in the Sydney Metropolitan area. Just a very few low volume crossings remain.

As we pass Unanderra a group of little kids motion like they are pulling the train whistle in a distinct pattern. It must be a game between the driver and these kids when they are in their backyard to see the train pass by. It's not the usual whistle, they couldn't have fluked it. As we emerge from the built up areas in the northern suburbs of Wollongong we admire expansive views of coastal lowlands.


Climbing again the sound of cicadas in the surrounding bush becomes prominent. It's drier and warmer here and the cicadas like the heat. The bush just here is a bit dry and scrubby, but we are soon heading into the catchment area and its pristine bushland. The bush gradually becomes thicker and moister with long lianas growing up trunks. Towering trees draped with their long strips of shed bark stand majestically. Mountain devil bushes are in flower, native hibiscus also.. gullies trickling water. Lovely.
The gradient eases and we pull in to Summit Tank platform. The local volunteer organisations have constructed this lookout which provides superb views across Lake Illawarra. Mount Kembla is to the north. Shellharbour to the south. It is a fabulous view here in the midst of the water catchment area. Our man in charge provides a little talk about all that we can see; the construction of the line; summit tank and so on. I find it interesting and rather annoying that many of the passengers are being very rude and talking among themselves rather than listen.
Of course I'm not going to post a photo of the view.. heritage operators need all the ticket sales support they can get, being not-for-profit and volunteer operated. Last thing I want to do is wreck the business.... we continue on through the bush. Banksia serrata everywhere with cones forming up for a beautiful display and the delight of the honeyeaters.



We emerge from the bush on the approaches to Robertson into green farm fields stocked with beautiful hereford cattle. On the western side horses are grazing and there are expansive views across the highlands. I'm on the lookout for the views to the east. The road at this point has spectacular views. We get some of these views, but the road actually has a less obstructed view. The train travels discretely behind a hedgerow for much of the trip in to Robertson township. At one point we smile as a young black angus calf capers as we pass in a field lush with grass.
We pass right past the old cheese factory (literally) the factory must have been built on the line to facilitate loading up the goods. The cheese factory is now a cluster of shops and of course is the location of the Pig and Whistle cafe which is a great place to stop for a leisurely meal.

We pull into Robertson train station and virtually everyone alights to spend a few hours exploring this charming little highlands town.
Opposite the station we admire a row of what I think must be a variety of telopea (waratah species) covered in bright red blooms.
The gardens at the station are well kept with dahlias and coloured calla lilies. We have a few minutes to have a quick look at the historical displays in the old station building. We don't have nearly enough time to take them in properly, but make a note to return some time and browse at our leisure. Across from the station is a lovely town common with picnic facilities.

We keep an eye out for the man in the black hat to give the signal that the train is about to head off to Moss Vale. We have opted to go all the way to Moss Vale as we are frequently in Robertson and on the other hand we don't have general access to the train line through this way.

Underway once more the train line travels across rural pastures and we have lovely views across the reservoir.. name escapes me.. it's the one that supplies Fitzroy Falls at any rate. It is an interesting scheme here. The water is all linked up with Tallowa Dam in Kangaroo Valley and the water circulates down over the falls giving them a reliable flow.


If you are coming on the Cockatoo Run you are definitely well advised to alight at Robertson rather than continue on, so there's no harm in posting a video of what you miss if you choose not to go on to Moss Vale.






The train comes to a stop in amongst a long row of pines bordering nearby pastures. We wait here and enjoy the peace of the place. We are the only passengers. We stand here for quite a lengthy period, maybe 20 mins or so. Have a little doze. We are chilling. The whole trip has been exceedingly relaxing.

Apparently we have been waiting in the crossing loop for a freight train, which we understand is hauling limestone from Marulan and which has priority, to pass us before we can move off. Finally the goes through and we move on to Moss Vale. We come to another stop. We wait. We wait some more. Apparently this time we have another freight train that has to come through and it's running late throwing us out of whack. We're on the main south line here. Not some quiet backwater. The freight train passes but we're still stuck. We're beginning to wonder if we would have been better advised to alight at Robertson with everyone else. We are kept informed about what is going on by our volunteer hosts at all times. Apparently this time it's the xpt coming through. It has priority also.


At last we get the go ahead to move on in to Moss Vale station. We have been sheltering in an inspection siding, or something like that. We move slowly back to the main line and there's a significant bump. Hmm. We're still chillin'. Some little while later and it is explained to us... no doubt we felt a bit of a bump a little while ago? ...yeesss... that was the train derailing. Seems the signaller at Junee moved the points under the moving train. Helpful. This is a BIG headache for 3801. A breakdown crew will be along, but not in time for passengers to meet their timetable. There is some discussion about how to get the passengers back where they need to go. For us another xpt passing through makes a special stop. We clamber down from the Illawarra Treetop Flyer, carefully attended by our friendly volunteers walk across the tracks and clamber up the ladder and into the XPT.

It might be a hassle of massive paperwork and investigations for the infrastructure manager and for 3801, but we're laughing. You couldn't pay for excitement like that!! The XPT takes us speedily back to central via Campbelltown and Strathfield. We are running hours ahead of schedule now and make it back to central at about 4:30 rather than 7 pm.

We have had a wonderful day on the Cockatoo Run. I read a testimonial on their website that said what a relaxing day it was and I absolutely agree. We enjoyed it, and our jaunt on the XPT, so much that we have decided it would be wonderful fun to do a bit more travel by rail. We both like the idea of the Indian Pacific with a weeks stopover in Broken Hill and another in Adelaide to see family for a few days before proceeding across to Perth. Now the Indian Pacific is an iconic Australian rail journey. ... ah.. one day...

Our dinner reservation is not till 8:15 so we have some time to kill. I've not brought my weekly train ticket with me, not expecting to have use for it. But it's all good. This forces us to try the new fee city circle bus. We rather would like to catch a movie. We wizz back and forth around the city on the new free service and find it extremely convenient. Not all that many passengers in these early days but a steady stream of patrons at any rate. An hour later we're back at Circular Quay. As we missed lunch in all the excitement of derailing, we grab a snack of a couple of potato scallops and prawn cutlets before we board the ferry for Watson's Bay. The snack is very tasty but quite oily and I wish I had something more absorbent than the butchers paper it came wrapped in.

The Sydney Ferries ticket attendant tells us we should be back at Circular Quay at about 7:30 which should give us time to get back and collect the car and head to dinner at the Red Lantern.

Among the other patrons we board our ferry. The Louise Sauvage. This is a high speed twin hulled affair. It has ample outside spaces and a large commodious interior. I have to say though that we both found it an utterly charmless way to explore the harbour and we vow to repeat the exercise on the Sydney Ferries heritage explorer service. Ms Sauvage (who is a great athlete - world champion wheelchair racer) deserves a more charming vessel, but then when I think about it Louise Sauvage is fast- so is this ferry!!



Our trip takes us to Double Bay, Rose Bay and finally Watson's Bay. We take up positions in the front of the vessel outside and get a wonderful view of Fort Denison (pinchgut) as we pass.
The views back to the bridge and opera house are rather bright at this late time of day with the sun approaching the horizon.





The harbour is looking a treat.
Our first stop is Double Bay. Nice enough, but nothing to write home about in Sydney Harbour terms in my opinion.
Our next port of call is Rose Bay. Not much of a beach here. There is a nice looking park back behind the wharf though.. and a nice little patisserie up at the shops in there somewhere by the way...

Our speedy craft jets away to Watson's Bay which faces due west. I had heard great things about the views here, and they are nice enough, but you don't see the opera house or bridge or anything particularly glamorous. It is a very nice ambience at Watson's Bay. Like Manly you feel like you are miles away from the city.


Doyles is situated right on the beach. Obviously this place was settled before such things were not permitted. It is indeed a killer location and they just about have the monopoly on food here. Not cheap for what you get by the look of it. I peer at the food of people dining at the wharf outlet. Looks OK but nothing out the box by appearance at any rate. None-the-less I can certainly see the point made by many that even it its not the BEST fish and chips, having it here in this delightful spot wouldn't be hard to take, and it is certainly a Sydney icon.

Up behind the beach is a large grassed park with a large and elaborate children's playground with a shade sail. There are people kicking a ball around. This place is the epitomy of an Aussie summer...

There is another cafe in an old but well maintained building called the Dunbar. This must be named for the ship of that name... if memory serves the Dunbar was wrecked off Sydney somewhere..... a quick google and I find that my memory is not failing me. The Dunbar is described in the NSW State archives as Australia's Titanic.
We wander to the south along the promenade. We only have about 15 minutes till the last ferry takes us back to our dinner booking. There is a tidal pool for swimming. It's in somewhat of a state is disrepair and there is a sign on the fence about a development proposal, but we don't examine this in detail.

We walk around the pool. There are oysters growing everywhere. I am amazed noone has collected them, but I guess people have better sense than to eat an oyster grown in Sydney Harbour. Oysters concentrate any toxins in the water, so here with all the city and old industrial pollution a local grown oyster is the last thing you'd want to consume.
Time is pressing and we decide we'd best make a speedy return to the ferry, which has just been sitting hanging around since we arrived.
There are a few magnificent fig trees along the promenade which provide a very pleasant canopy over the path.
We have enjoyed our brief sojourn at Watson's Bay very much, but it's time to go.
The ferry speeds along back past the harbour islands that can be visited on a tour from circular quay.
It's now about 7:30 pm. Back at the quay we hang about for 10 minutes not sure if the free city circle bus is still running. Not expecting to have this time I didn't check this out before we came out. No bus in the offing so we hop a train to central, pick up our car and drive around to Crown Street and prove that parking angels are not international travellers. Brother is in Japan again over christmas January and his parking angel is enjoying a work out helping us. We get a brilliant spot not far from the Red Lantern and in no time we're being welcomed to our table for two on the terrace.
The Red Lantern is high end Vietnamese. What can I say. Superb. It has been winning awards lately and it deserves them. The service was casual and friendly but wonderfully attentive without intrusion. The food was absolutely delicious. We will definitely be back. We ate far more than we needed to as it was just too delicious, including beverages (a couple of beers and water) we're set back about $185 (including a tip on this occassion).
It's pretty late of course by the time we're finished. Our parking spot has us set up perfectly for just going down the street on or two turns and we're back on the freeway. Couldn't be easier.
We have had a spectacular day.

The forgotten people

This is one of the all time great speaches given in Australia. Still as relevant today as it was over 60 years ago when it was given by Sir Robert Menzies on 22 May 1942 ...

Quite recently, a bishop wrote a letter to a great daily newspaper. His theme was the importance of doing justice to the workers. His belief, apparently, was that the workers are those who work with their hands. He sought to divide the people of Australia into classes. He was obvioulsy suffering from what has for years seemed to me to be our greatest political disease - the disease of thinking that the community is divided into the rich and relatively idle, and the laborious poor, and that every social and political controversy can be resolved into the question: What side are you on?
Now, the last thing that I want to do is to commence or take part in a false war of this kind. In a country like Australia the class war must always be a false war. But if we are to talk of classes, then the time has come to say something of the forgotten class - the middle class - those people who are constantly in danger of being ground between the upper and the nether millstones of the false class war; the middle class who, properly regarded, represent the backbone of this country.
We do not have classes here as in England and therefore the terms do not mean the same; so I must define what I mean when I use the expression "middle class".
Let me first define it by exclusion. I exclude at one end of the scale the rich and powerful: those who control great funds and enterprises, and are as a rule able to protect themselves - though it must be said that in a political sense they have as a rule shown neither comprehension nor competence. But I exclude them because in most material difficulties, the rich can look after themselves.
I exclude at the other end of the scale the mass of unskilled people, almost invariably well organised, and with their wages and conditions protected by popular law. What I am excluding them from is my definition of middle class. We cannot exclude them from the problem of social progress, for one of the prime objects of modern social and political policy is to give to them a proper measure of security, and provide the conditions which will enable them to acquire skill and knowledge and individuality.
These exclusions being made, I include the intervening range - the kind of people I myself represent in Parliament - salary earners, shopkeepers, skilled artisans, professional men and women, farmers and so on. These are, in the political and economic sense, the middle class. They are for the most part unorganised and unselfconscious. The are envied by those whose social benefits are largely obtained by taxing them. They are not rich enough to have individual power. They are taken for granted by each political party in turn. They are not sufficiently lacking in individualism to be organised for what in these days we call "pressure politics". And yet, as I have said, they are the backbone of the nation.
The middle class, more than any other, provides the intelligent ambition which is the motive power of human progress. The idea entertained by many people that, in a well-constituted world, we shall all live on the State is the quintessence of madness, for what is the State but us? We collectively must provide what we individually receive.
The great vice of democracy - a vice which is exacting a bitter retribution from it at this moment - is that for a generation we have been busy getting ourselves on to the list of beneficiaries and removing ourselves from the list of contributors, as if somewhere there was somebody else's wealth and somebody else's effort on which we could thrive.
To discourage ambition, to envy success, to hate achieved superiority, to distrust independent thought, to sneer at and impute false motives to public service - these are the maladies of modern democracy, and of Australian democracy in particuar. Yet ambition, effort, thinking, and readiness to serve are not only the design and objectives of self-government but are the essential conditions of its success. If this is not so, then we had better put back the clock and search for a benevolent autocracy once more.
Where do we find these great elements most commonly? Among the defensive and comfortable rich, among the unthinking and unskilled mass, or among what I have called the "middle class"?
One of the great blots on our modern living is the cult of false values, a repeated application of the test of money, notoriety, applause. A world in which a comedian or a beautiful half-wit on the screen can be paid fabulous sums, whilst scientific researchers and discoverers can suffer neglect and starvation, is a world which needs to have its sense of values violently set right.
Now, have we realised and recognised these things, or is most of our policy designed to discourage or penalise thrift, to encourage dependence on the State, to bring about a dull equality on the fantastic idea that all men are equal in mind and needs and desserts: the level down by taking the mountains out of the landscape, to weigh men according to their political organisations and power - as votes and not as human beings? These are formidable questions, and we cannot escape from answering them if there is really to be a new order for the world...
If the new world is to be world of men, we must be not pallid and bloodless ghosts, but a community of of people whose motto shall be, "to strive, to seek, to find and not to yield". Individual enterprise must drive us forward. That does not mean that we are to return to the old and selfish notions of laissez-faire. The functions of the State will be much more than merely keeping the ring within which the competitors will fight. Our social and industrial obligations will be increased. There will be more law, not less; more control, not less.
But what really happens to us will depend on how many people we have who are of the great and sober and dynamic middle class - the stivers, the planners, the ambitious ones. We shall destroy them at our peril.