All the fun of the fair

This past week brought some Sydney action complete with all the usual harbour bridges, opera houses and beaches, plus a touch of industrial heritage, a couple of dodgy pubs, Eastern Suburbs pram pushers, fairground rides, the sexiest Westfield food court in the world, regression models and a chimichanga. Wouldn’t get all that in Canberra now would we?!

I was here for a work conference which was happily located in Luna Park, on the north side of that bridge thing. Like the weather, the conference was all sunny periods one minute, dark clouds and torrential downpours the next. The highlight was the free fairground rides at the end, combining just superbly with the sufferings of a previous night on the turps. If you look closely you might see me taking a few deep breaths on one of the rides.

The weekend weather was pretty fine though – the birds certainly seemed to enjoy it at 5am – and it was a nice clear view from the legendary Westfield food court in Bondi Junction over the city and harbour. Of course it was inevitable that I would hit the harbour one way or another. For a change though it wasn’t the usual Manly ferry but a boat ride to Cockatoo Island, home of evil magpies and dangerous seagulls and no cockatoos. This was something of a contrast to all the usual glitz and glamour of the harbourside, instead providing an interesting look back on what has been a former convict island, a site of some serious shipbuilding and a soon to be campsite. The really good thing was the way you could wander around at will, sometimes quite eerily, at other times thinking you could be in a movie set or one of those pop videos with some dancing girls or something.



Normal service was resumed in the afternoon, with a beautiful ride over the water to Taronga and a bus ride through wealthy parts to Balmoral Beach, a sedate spot to stroll on the beach, walk over to an island and generally feel jealous of the youth of today.



It was also an ideal spot to take a tokenistic snap of me on a beach just to say here I really am. I urge you to notice once again the very important wearing of shorts. Also, notice the reasonably clean shaven look which is not set to last as Movember approaches.

The journey ride back to Circular Quay was pleasing as the sun lowered in the sky on the last day before daylight savings.

In the quay, a huge passenger liner was taking up all the space and views but deciding to leave for the night, doing a uu-ey at the harbour bridge and heading out towards the heads. It provided quite a spectacle on top of the thousands of people quaffing by the opera house and watching the sun set.

The daylight saving jetlag kicked in on Sunday, but a coffee in Centennial Park helped out, along with a strong desire to avoid the biggest pram push of the year which was going on. To be truthful, it was nothing on a walk through Swilly to Plymco! Eastern suburbs pram pushing is a totally different affair, all designer ‘pushchairs’ and jolly well behaved children. The park is pretty big though, so it is easy to escape the many kids birthday parties going on.

Nearby, is Woollahra, home of Elle McPherson and er, I can’t remember many other facts. Has a nice place for pizza though and is quietly leafy. By this time, I was ready for a nice afternoon nap and it wasn’t long until I boarded the coach back to Canberra and tried in vain to sleep my way past Mittagong and Collector. The coach was pretty quick though and especially good was the fact that it was still light when I got back. Bring on the summertime!

Roaming the capital

After the distant sight of snow last week, it’s been shorts and cold beers all the way as temperatures nudge into the 30s. Throughout this time I’ve been hanging around Canberra, with two consecutive 5am Sunday morning starts for the rugby leaving me at times exuberant, disorientated, grumpy and annoyed with the number of Subway adverts shown during the matches.

Last Sunday I took some time out with a blanket and a book at the Botanic Gardens, lazing on the Eucalypt Lawn and watching the Rosellas battle for supremacy. The Botanic Garden never fail to impress me and I found more hidden corners to explore the spring blooms.



This weekend I have lived in my shorts, which is always a good sign! On Saturday morning, before it heated up too much, I explored a place called Cooleman Ridge, which is on the western side of Canberra. One side of the ridge is fairly suburban, albeit presenting a less manicured look, with new homes sprouting up amongst the bushland. The other direction is another matter, with the dry pasture weaving its ways alongside the rising Brindabella ranges.

Just five minutes from here is the delightful town centre of Woden, where there seems to be a sizeable population of large people (or vice versa), mostly hanging around one of the three donut outlets and / or Big W. On what was I guess a typical this is what most people do on a weekend weekend, I picked up a few bits, like a mallet. The mallet was to help erect my new tent which I got for my birthday (thanks, Plymouth family!)…a test run in the garden which passed successfully – it could be harder in a couple of weeks down on the South Coast, no doubt watched by experienced tent people sitting in their fold up chairs with a stubbie holder in hand, mocking the Englishman. The hardest part was rolling it up and fitting it back into its bag. Four attempts later, it’s bulging the zipper (oo-er) but packed away.

I also bought a flan dish as I craved bakewell tart and ending up making one. It turned out pretty good, but not the same as Mums (must pinch that recipe). Domesticity continued, interrupted by a certain early morning viewing of egg chase, into Sunday, with a trip to Bunnings Whorehouse for a banana bed (a sunbed to you and me) and of course the obligatory sizzle on the barbie later in the day. Hoi Sin marinated pork loin was superb.

With light still lingering, it was ideal to go walk off the meat feast up in Red Hill Nature Reserve, which provided a serenely charming end to the day. The grass is long and wildflowers in abundance up here, the time of day just fantastic for the light, nature in abundance either packing up for the day or just starting out. And over the delightfully charming shopping village of Woden and into the ranges beyond, the sun sank like the hopes of the England rugby team, only far more beautiful.

Backwards under down

Writing this may be the last thing I do today, since an early night might be prudent given the 5am rugby semi final start. I think I’ll sleep quite well, having just had a good feed after a short sunset walk beside the lake. I did doze off for about 15 minutes this afternoon, but that was after a round trip of 300 kilometres down in the south of NSW. Whizzing back to Canberra up the Monaro highway was fun – fairly empty roads, just enough bends to keep it interesting and several pleasant mountain views. The last viewpoint was near the small village of Michelago, up a side road, just me and two kangaroos bouncing along for company.

I made it here fuelled on Coke from McDonalds in Cooma, some 50 kilometres to the south. I was looking for something nicer, but much of Cooma was dead – they seem to shut down on a Saturday afternoon in the country towns for some reason. Maccers was bustling though, sadly. I was a bit thirsty after wandering around a viewpoint to the west of Cooma, Mount Gladstone. From here there were views of the snow plains of the Australian Alps, which are receding with the arrival of spring.

It was good to see some green in the landscape since the road I had travelled from Nimmitabel, further east, is starkly barren. The bleakness comes as quite a contrast after spending a couple of hours in South East Forests National Park, just 15 minutes before you reach inimitable Nimmitabel. I had stopped here before, at Pipers Lookout, on trips to the coast, but actually spent a bit longer here this time exploring the old growth forests.

I ate my lunch at the lookout, having worked up a hunger walking up a dirt track from Rutherford Creek. Down by the water, it was amazingly tranquil, barely a soul in sight, just the sights, sounds and smells of the surroundings for company. Around the creek there was also a beautiful short walk through a fern gully.



It was a bit like the boardwalk in the National Botanic Gardens in Canberra, only this provided added satisfaction with the knowledge that it was all totally natural and wild. I was glad to find the walk, as I had some concerns that there might not be much to do, other than look out at the lookout. Not to say that the lookout was not impressive, and it was pleasing to arrive here in the morning to find that it was not shrouded in mist. The smell, I think of Lemon Myrtle and, of course, Eucalyptus, was quite intoxicating when opening the car doors for the first time.



The freshness was particularly satisfying after filling myself on coffee and caramel slice at Nimmitabel Bakery…but I needed the caffeine and sugar fix after an early start and drive from Canberra. The coffee also helped me warm up, as it was still early, and a cold southerly was blowing at nearby Lake Williams, where the snow capped mountains were in view in the distance.

Some of the snow might be quite fresh, as we actually had some precipitation for the first time in a few weeks in Canberra on Thursday night. It was nice to get some rain, though I did get slightly wet (and scared by a sudden thunderclap), out in the open around Red Hill. It was pretty dramatic stuff though and was invigorating at the end of a few tough days at work.



The working week had started so well for me though, thanks to a certain event in Marseille last Saturday night. Memories of four years ago, when I was watching the rugby world cup final on the steps of Sydney Opera House. But that’s history and there’s no point writing about stuff that happened in the past…

Jervis Cracker

Bless Australia for providing a public holiday on the last weekend in September, nicely timed to compensate for the milestone of reaching another year of my life. It also seems to mark the start of the proper shorts wearing, BBQ sizzling, garage sale extravaganza season. Last year I celebrated my birthday at the coast and it was beautiful, so why change a winning formula.

After a Friday night BBQ (yes, the first of the season), I set off on Saturday with my friend Caroline to Jervis Bay. The drive is pretty boring for the first couple of hours, characterised by the highlight that is the Marulan Weigh Station. Turning off the highway though and it is not long until you’re amongst the carved sandstone ridges and valleys of Morton National Park. Fitzroy Falls is a handy stop here, just yards from the road and with short walks to impressive waterfalls and overlooks.



From the plateau of the escarpment, the road winds its way down into Kangaroo Valley, a wonderfully green, well kept landscape enjoying the spring growth and the public holiday tourist dollar.

Leaving the clipped and cultivated valley it takes one final climb through fern fronds and tall white eucalypts up to Cambewarra Mountain where the coast is finally in view from the hilltop gardens and slightly worryingly radioactive looking transmitter.

So after a short jaunt of some three hours or so, you finally reach the huge expanse of Jervis Bay, an almost complete circle of white sands and blue seas, punctuated through rocky headlands by the Pacific Ocean.

Whilst Geelong were pummelling Port Adelaide, it was nice to escape for a coffee followed by a poodle around one of the many beaches of the bay as the sun dipped in the sky.

In the evening we took a trip back in time to an unintentionally 1970s themed Italian restaurant, but I wasn’t complaining about the huge bowl of pasta, although my carbohydrate intake for the day was beyond excessive – a leftover BBQ hotdog for brekkie, wedges for lunch and now a pile of pasta. Mr Atkins would not be pleased.

I had been to Jervis Bay before and, whilst it was a great trip, I remember it being cold and cloudy. This time round, I couldn’t ask for a finer backdrop for my birthday, as the sun sparkled and illuminated the whitest sand in the world and the beautiful water at Hyams Beach. By now I was getting more laid back by the second, in my shorts with the sand between my toes. This sure compensates for getting older!

Taking a break from the coast, I drove aimlessly around St Georges Basin, another inlet nearby where there are plenty of understated holiday shacks lurking in the bush, boat ramps and dilapidated piers, bait shops and not very much else going on.

After leftover pasta and a read of the papers at lunchtime, we headed south, stopping at Moona Moona creek where the kids were playing, the men were fishing and the BBQs were sizzling. Apart from visiting garage sales, this seems to be the archetypal thing to do on a long weekend at the coast.

Leaving some of the humans and the development behind, we entered Booderee National Park, whizzing through the express lane thanks to my new annual membership! This presents pretty much more of the same in a more natural state, with further white sandy beaches backed by bush. Again, a nice place to read the papers on my Malaysia Airlines throw, watch the Japanese build a sand mermaid and stroll along past curious wallabies with the warming sun on my back.

Now, sundown is such a great time, not only for photo taking opportunities but everything calms down and there is a feeling of a great sense of achievement of another job well done. Staying close to the beach in Huskisson, it was easy to pick up a couple of beers and wander down the end of the street as the sky faded and the horizon gave off that red tinge it does when the sun disappears into the west.

The evening was capped with a below par Indian meal but it filled a gap and, along with a documentary about a woman who talks to cows, made me sleepy. In bed at 9:30, truly living it up on my birthday night!

The early night was a good call as it was an early start to pack up and head into downtown Huskisson for some breakfast followed by a whale watching cruise. I say whale watching but an absence of whales made that something of a misnomer. It was pleasant times though, sat in the sun and viewing the coves and cliffs from the water. We left the harbour around the northern side, passing Point Perpendicular, named by that upstanding bastion of navigation, Captain James Cook. Ah, another Captain Cook reference. He sailed on by the bay as the conditions were not right to enter. It could so easily have been Sydney.

Compensation for the lack of blubber were the dolphins who cruised along with the boat for a few minutes as we headed back to Husky where it was time to depart. Blubber was in evidence at Ulladulla fish and chip shop though, munching on their burgers and removing anything resembling a plant. The fish was pretty good though and I was a bit disappointed to be too full to finish it. With extra weight we followed the trail painfully back to Canberra behind boats and caravans up and over Clyde mountain, past a random breath test checkpoint in Braidwood, avoiding steam trains in Bungendore, dodging hicks in Queanbeyan and missing Caroline’s connecting coach back to Sydney by 5 minutes! Another 55 minutes in Canberra surely couldn’t be too much of a disappointment though for a Sydneysider?

I was pretty shattered returning home, it was great to give the car a good run out but the driving and sea air was fairly tiring. It was a pleasure though to be able to spend my birthday in a beautiful place and really signal the start of the long summer season. The BBQs are officially lit and the coast is open.