Elton John was in Canberra on Friday night. An open air concert. It was chucking it down, thunder claps and lightning, very very frightening. I was safely tucked away at home avoiding the Rocket Man, plotting my escape, stroking my mo for the final time.
Saturday dawned overcast but I was adamant that today was an escape from Canberra day and, picking up my friend Jodie, whizzed up the boring Federal Highway to Hungry Jacks at Marulan.
The burgers are better there. Luckily it is not much further before the turn off takes you to a mystical world of giant ferns and waterfalls, sandstone cliffs and sqwawks of black cockatoos. Good old Morton National Park, probably about the size of Wales and not a sheep in site.
Instead of heading to the easily accessible Fitzroy Falls (again), we pushed on towards Belmore Falls, which looks very much like Fitzroy Falls, reached by a dirt road a bit muddy in parts but very fun to drive.
The highlight was the river crossing, which sounds more dramatic than it was (about 2 inches of water) yet it was very scenic and so so so Australian bush… the windows wound down, the sounds of the tyres splashing their way through the water, and the amazingly fresh scent of the forest pouring in. There were a few lookouts here, taking in the misty expanse of green gums clogging up the valleys and lining the ridges, down to Kangaroo Valley and of course across to the white streak of the falls themselves.
Like a waterfall plunging off the escarpment, the road winds down several hundred metres to Kangaroo Valley, a beautiful green expanse sweeping along until it hits the barrier of the escarpment. It’s an idyllic spot and like so many idyllic spots attracts its share of crafte stores and lolly shoppes. It also has Hampton Bridge crossing the Kangaroo River which, yes, could have been shipped straight from London.
From down here the way forward looks impenetrable yet somehow the road climbs with 25 kph hairpins and it’s not long until you are back on high ground at Fitzroy Falls.
The Falls were pretty much the same as the last time I saw them but nonetheless staggering. We walked along the west rim for a bit, taking in the views and lookdowns to the valley as well as other falls which had emerged following the rain.
And so it was that I took one last gaze down the valley at thousands of trees winding their way into the horizon, coming to an abrupt halt at the foot of sheer cliff faces, took in a few deep breaths of the freshest air and returned to the real world.
There are a few pools and swimming holes here and, despite looking very brown, the water’s quite nice to cool off in. That evening and it was another BBQ, for which there were more leftovers for Sunday lunch. Sunday dinnertime is now approaching and I’m just gonna have a nice salad or something, no more barbies!!
The burgers are better there. Luckily it is not much further before the turn off takes you to a mystical world of giant ferns and waterfalls, sandstone cliffs and sqwawks of black cockatoos. Good old Morton National Park, probably about the size of Wales and not a sheep in site.
The highlight was the river crossing, which sounds more dramatic than it was (about 2 inches of water) yet it was very scenic and so so so Australian bush… the windows wound down, the sounds of the tyres splashing their way through the water, and the amazingly fresh scent of the forest pouring in. There were a few lookouts here, taking in the misty expanse of green gums clogging up the valleys and lining the ridges, down to Kangaroo Valley and of course across to the white streak of the falls themselves.
The Falls were pretty much the same as the last time I saw them but nonetheless staggering. We walked along the west rim for a bit, taking in the views and lookdowns to the valley as well as other falls which had emerged following the rain.
