Lord of the flies - 18 March - 30 March

At my last post we were about to move from one side of Lamington National Park (Binna Burra) to spend a couple of days on the other side (Green Mountain or O'Reilly's).  About 7 Kilometres as the currawong flies, but about 60 Kilometres by Jeep.  The purpose of course was to experience the full range of walks on offer in the park.  A couple of smallish walks on the afternoon of our arrival did not disappoint.  One was to a lovely waterfall (Moran's Falls I think it was called), the other was O'Reilly's treetop walk which traverses the rainforest canopy by means of rickety bridges suspended between enormous poles planted in the rainforest floor.  Beth did not, I think, believe my protestations of innocence when accused of intentionally causing the bridges to lurch and sway, and stern looks ensued.

The next day, despite a rather bleak weather outlook, we decided that we would take our chances and set off on a long ethereal walk through the misty rainforest.  This was all quite enchanting until about halfway through the walk when the heavens opened.  This in itself only slightly diminished the splendour, but the discovery that we were under attack by an army of leeches increased the urgency of our push for home and diverted our attention away from the beauty of our surroundings and towards the extent of our infestation.  This somewhat lessened the pleasure of the experience.  To add to the excitement, we discovered that the Lamington Blue Crayfish which we understood to be quite rare is indeed anything but when it is raining, and there seemed to be one at every turn standing in the middle of the track waving its claws and snapping and hissing.  I am sure that they are quite harmless, but they are off putting nonetheless.  As we were getting a little closer to camp, we happened upon a British couple perhaps a little older than us going the other way and Beth warned them of the leeches.  To which the lady replied that she was quite squeamish about things like that, and that was why she always wore a hat, and off she trudged.  We are still trying to work that one out!!  By the time we finally fell out at the other end of the track the sun was shining and all the trendy and sophisticated tourists had just arrived to start their little walks.  The sight of a couple of dishevelled, wet and bloodied walkers stumbling from the forests probably caused them some anxiety.

Once back in our trailer, we assessed the damage, and Beth is claiming bragging rights over me because she has 22 leech bites, whilst I could only count 14.  I am happy for her to have won this one, because the leech bites develop into the equivalent of large, itchy, slow healing and nasty mosquito bites.  Although Beth does not quite see the humour in it, she does look a bit funny walking around with a little ring of festering volcanoes around the tops of her socks and the bottoms of her shorts (where the leeches gathered).  Oh well, I am sure that they will clear up in the next few months, and until then they will be neat dotted lines marking the start and end of her walkers tan.

Our next stop was Giraween National Park, which is along the New England Highway right on the NSW/QLD border.  Giraween is renowned for its rocks, and given that Beth and I both love rocky landscapes, we thought we should check it out.  Three days later, we had completed every walk on offer in the park and had a wonderful time. We got to climb up the side of huge rocks, walk through boulder strewn landscapes, wander along streams cut into rock, and crawl over, under, through and around rocks.  Not only this, but we had perfect weather to do so for the duration of our stay.  And the icing on the cake was a delightful campground with flushing toilets and hot showers for the princely sum of $10 per night.  Queensland clearly has a different National Parks camping agenda to other states, and affordability is high on that agenda.  Nothing to complain about with Giraween, which is a bit bothersome.  I don't feel comfortable when I have nothing to grumble about.

From Giraween we start pushing seriously westward along the border with single night stops at Goondiwindi, Cunnamulla and Thargomindah as we make our way towards Innamnincka just across the QLD/SA border.

Goondiwindi was very nice, but a bit of a one horse town (that horse being Gunsynd of course).  The only problem with Goondiwindi was that it lulled us into a false sense of security in terms of weather, and whilst we were out sitting in the garden by the river, having our weekly video conference with our daughter, a thunderstorm snuck up and dumped a heap of water on our trailer.  Not a big deal normally, but someone had forgotten to close their window (yes, it was me), and you guessed it, things got wet.  Luckily the thunderstorm passed quickly and was replaced quickly by bright sunshine which dries things off nicely.  Interesting coincidence at Goondiwindi.  We noticed that our neighbour in the caravan park had Victorian registration plates, and when we asked where they were from we found that they are actually neighbours at home as well.  They live just a couple of streets away in Ferntree Gully.

Goondiwindi to Cunnamulla was an interesting drive, particularly throughout the cotton growing areas around St George.  We lost count of the road trains transporting huge bales of raw cotton, presumably back to Brisbane.  As they thundered past little tufts of cotton flew off and settled on the side of the road.  It looked for all the world as though it had been snowing in the 35 degree heat.  We stopped to pick up some of the cotton flotsam, why I am not sure, it just seemed as though we should pick up a piece.  The countryside seemed surprisingly green as we travelled, but between St George and Cunnamulla it became clear to us that this was all new growth from very recent rain when we observed a very emancipated herd of cattle grazing the long paddock.  They have been doing things tough in this neck of the woods.

Cunnamulla was quite a small town, but one that we really enjoyed.  We met some lovely people, particularly the caravan park proprietress, who in inimitable country style chatted for more than an hour while we registered.  We also had good coffee, which I thought we may have run out of by now.  I suspect that I have the demands of the Grey Nomads to thank for the proliferation of espresso machines in the outback.

Thargomindah is smaller again and we are really starting to hit the outback now.  Heat, flies and barrenness are hallmarks, but the marketing blurb suggests there is a whole lot more to this town.  Unfortunately most of this "whole lot more" was closed because we were a bit early in the tourist season, which I believe does not really start until Easter.  Despite being denied the delights of Thargomindah we managed to keep ourselves occupied and interested, and again met some very friendly country folk.  The thing which we most have to thank Thargomindah for however, where a couple of fly net hoods which we purchased.  When buying fuel upon our departure, needless to say the fuel vendor was up for a bit of a chat, and when I told him our next stop was the remote Noccundra Hotel, he told us that if we were going there we must buy fly veils.  I was greatly disturbed by the number of flies at Thargomindah and naively expecting an improvement in this situation as we moved on.  My naivety was tempered by his " ten times worse at Noccundra" prognostication.

So off to Noccundra we went, and sure enough, not only where the flies ten times worse, there were mosquitoes thrown in to boot.  Lovely camping spot on a permanent waterhole on the Smith River, but no inclination to leave the safety of our trailer for fear that we would be carried away by insects (I did try applying Aerogard, but I could hear the flies laughing as I did!!).  Instead we treated ourselves to an evening in the Noccundra Pub (which really is the heart and soul of town, largely because there is nothing else there), where we were entertained by the publican and the various locals who drifted in and out.  We asked the publican who their patrons were, and she told us that they were basically itinerant workers, tourists and local cattle station workers.  Almost on cue as she finished the sentence the door burst open  and in walked a ten gallon hat, under which was a wiry, dust covered, jeans and boots clad character - legs akimbo John Wayne style.  He didn't quite say "bartender gimme a beer"' but it was something like that.  Turns out his name was Splinter, and he was a ringer at the nearby Nockatungah cattle station.  Although it was difficult getting him talking, it was a lot of fun chatting with this very real country character.  As the evening progressed a few road workers drifted in, and again it was interesting to talk with then and listen to their conversations.  All up it was a fun evening which made us forget the terrors awaiting us outside.

After a shower at Noccundra (they did have a public shower - brown river water, with a slight bouquet of mud - which was open to all, including grasshoppers, ants, beetles, flies, and of course Beth's favourite, mosquitoes: better than nothing I guess??) we packed up the trailer to head for Cooper Creek at Nappa Merrie Station where the "Dig" tree still lives.  For those who don't know about the Dig Tree  read the Burke and Wills story.  This is our second visit to this site, and at the risk of sounding overly dramatic, there is a special atmosphere or spirit about this place which takes you back and puts you in the shoes of these early explorers.  Notwithstanding my reverence for this place, there was no relief from the fly situation and being confined to quarters had caused me to sink somewhat into a state of melancholy.  Beth suggested (in the nicest possible way of course) that I was being a sook, and perhaps I should be a brave little soldier, put on my hat and fly veil and go for a walk despite the flies.  We resolved to do this and although I am still grumpy about the flies, my funk has cleared significantly.

Just one night at Nappa Merrie,, and then off to Innamincka (about 50 kilometres away) for two nights.  Because of the heat we are doing our walking very early in the morning and then trying to spend the heat of the day either indoors or driving around in the air conditioned car, and this has worked very well at Innamincka.  I was able to enjoy a couple of sessions in the pub drinking coffee (quite good) and eating cookies (they don't have cake!), and we were also able to visit various waterholes along the Cooper (which is flowing quite well at the moment) as well as Coongie Lakes about 100k north of town and one of the lake systems into which the Cooper drains.  Cooper Creek really is quite beautiful, particularly against the backdrop of the stark and inhospitable countryside it cuts through.  It is well worth the effort required to get there.

As I write this we are roasting (we should be resting) in the trailer at an overnight stop on the Strzelecki Track (Montecollina Bore) en route to our  next destination, which I think will be Marree or Leigh Creek.  Strzelecki track is hard work.  The road is wide and very rough in places, but at times exceptionally smooth, which invites you to travel quickly.  The only problem is that every now and then you happen upon well disguised bull dust holes (just like a politician or senior public servant) which have the propensity to alter your course dramatically (which is not advisable when you have 50 wheel road trains going in the other direction), so we have been driving slowly and carefully.  I am hoping for phone reception at either Leigh Creek or Marree, so that we can wish our son a happy birthday and I can post to the blog otherwise we are probably off the air until we get to Uluru around the 9th of April.

Still having fun despite all the nasty things sent to try us, they have only served to build our characters and tolerance to such things.  On the subject of flies however, I am happy for nothing more to be added to the structure of my character.  I have this sense however, that the flies are with us now for quite some time.  A lady at Innamincka told us that once the overnight temperature drops to below 4 degrees, even for only one night, it kills them off.  I hope she is right and I hope we get a short cold snap some time soon.

Posted from Leigh Creek.

Ladder climb - O'Reilly's Treetop Walk - Lamington NP 

View from the top of Moran's Falls - Lamington National Park

View to Mt Lindesay - Lamington NP

Granite Arch - Girraween NP

Bald Rock Creek - Girraween NP

Entering the enchanted (or bewitched??) forest, before the leeches - Lamington NP 

Climbing The Pyramid - Girraween NP

Underground Creek - Girraween NP

Eye of the Needle - Mt Norman - Girraween NP

Lake Bindegolly - In the middle of nowhere

Cunnamulla Bloke - Evidently Slim Dusty had a famous  song (maybe in QLD) that this chap is based on

The Sphinx - Girraween NP (The head is a balancing rock)

Early attempts at fly control  - on the way to Lake Bindegolly

The Noccundra Pub

Cooper Creek view from our bedroom window - Dig Tree Campground - Nappa Merrie Station

Dingo and pelicans - Cooper Creek - Innamincka

Sunset - Cullyamurra Waterhole - near Innamincka

No flies on Beth?? - Note the fly veil and hat - much more effective fly control

Two water birds - Cooper Creek at Coongie Lakes

Sunrise - Policeman Campground - Near Innamincka

Walking the 15 mile track into Innamincka

Corrugations - 15  mile track - Innamincka

Budgies - Innamincka Common

In sickness and in health - 5th March – 17th March.

We left the safe haven of South West Rocks, and on the advice of a couple of old ladies in the caravan park, we headed for Armidale via the “Waterfall Way”, which as the name suggests is famed for the waterfalls along the route.  We made sure that we stopped for a look and a wander at each of the major falls and we also took the opportunity to take a superb walk (10 km) through the Dorrigo Rainforest and enjoyed the lunch and free Wi-Fi on offer at the café.

Our multi-stop strategy of course meant that there was no way we were going to make it to Armidale in time to secure a site, so instead we decided to stay the night at a free camping site on the Little Styx River just outside the entrance to New England National Park and about 100k from Armidale.  We expected, given the dearth of facilities (one especially gruesome pit toilet) that we would have the site to ourselves, but it turns out that because caravans these days are self-contained with respect to conveniences places like this are well frequented, and we shared the little spot with two large caravans and another camper trailer (an Ultimate like ours). Whilst the stay was not exactly unpleasant, it wasn’t pleasant either.  Next morning we decided to poke our heads into New England National Park just for a look, and guess what we found?  A beautiful little camping ground with nice clean toilets, barbeques and even showers (albeit cold).  Oh well,next time we will know where to go.  Needless to say we took a walk whilst we were there, and again it was absolutely gorgeous.

Again we moved slowly towards Armidale via waterfall stopovers, which were becoming progressively less blessed with water the further inland we travelled.  By Armidale, all the waterfalls had dried up (courtesy of the current drought conditions), but we went and looked nonetheless and imagined the water flowing freely over the rocks.  In typical style, despite the scarcity of water in the waterways, we managed to get caught in a thunderstorm during one of our walks – enough to soak us, but not enough for the waterfalls to spring to life.  Just one night in Armidale before we moved on to Yuraygir National Park back on the coast.  On the way to Yuraygir we called into Cathedral Rock National Park and had a wonderful time walking to and then clambering to the top of the large rocky outcrop which gives the park its name.  To paraphrase Ratty, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about on rocks.  We had great fun.

We have been taking note during our travels of the places we have only sampled and would like to experience more fully on a return visit.  The list is getting quite long and has just had the New England and Oxley Wild Rivers National Parks added.  I think by the time we return home we will have 10 years of travel plans in place.

We visited Yuraygir because Beth had read about and become interested in a series of linked coastal walks which it had to offer. The fact that we had only one full day there and that these walks totalled more than 100 km had me worried.  Luckily for me Beth seemed satisfied with concentrating on only one small section called the Angourie walk which I understood to cover about 12 km of beach and littoral rainforest, unluckily for me a mixture of grossly understated distances on our maps and someone's desire to go just a little bit further to find the view that we were sure was just around the corner meant that we staggered back into our camp about 20km later. Even worse, my promised reward of coffee and cake at the little town around the corner evaporated when we discovered that said town was seemingly not large enough to support an establishment serving such refreshments, so we returned our weary selves to the trailer for herbal tea and dry biscuits.  Despite miscalculations and coffee disappointments, Yuraygir was nice and the weather was kind to us, so I should not complain.

From the wilds of Yuraygir we moved on to the wilds of Byron Bay.  After setting up our camp at the caravan park we decided to take a walk into town, and I must say that my first impression was that this town was not quite the wild and happening place that it was made out to be, and I commented to Beth that the people I was observing were not the Bohemians I was expecting, but normal dorky folk like myself.  Needless to say I should have kept my observations to myself, because the closer we got to the town centre the more obvious it became that this town is just what it is made out to be.  There were old hippies, young hippies, tattoos, piercings, artistic looking folk, loud music, vendors peddling all sorts of things, suspicious looking cigarettes and wall to wall European back packers. Vibrant is a good word to describe Byron Bay, and despite the crowd being very different to ourselves, this was a nice bustle to be making our way through, and we resolved to return to the town centre the next day after our walk to sit and drink coffee and watch a different world go by.

We will have to stop promising ourselves coffee, because it seems inevitably to lead to disappointment.  As the next day dawned, I felt a little bit seedy but decided that it was probably just the humid weather and a walk would sort things out.  So we set out for the lighthouse, and by the time we reached it my seediness had developed somewhat in a bad direction, so we slowly made our way back to camp where I laid down and did not get back up for 24 hours, by which time it was time to pack up and move on. Fortunately Beth remained OK whilst I was sick, but as soon as I had recovered it was Beth’s turn and she was laid low for a couple of days with the same bug.

Whilst we were travelling up the coast we learnt (via the Tom Tom drums) that friends of ours were holidaying on the Gold Coast, so we determined to modify our plans slightly to spend a few days catching up with them.  As it turns out this was a great decision, because as well as spending time with friends (which was really pleasant), it also gave us the opportunity to rest up and recuperate from our sickness (I.e. very little walking).  Our final evening on the Gold Coast was spent celebrating our friend’s 50th birthday at a nice seafood restaurant, which after a couple of months of simple healthy eating was quite an indulgent and novel experience for which our stomachs did not really thank us the next day.

We are now at Binna Burra in the Lamington National Park (which is in the Gold Coast hinterland) where we are trying to catch up on the walking days lost to illness, and there is probably no better place in the world to do this.  There are 100s of kilometres of walking tracks through beautiful rainforest and we have traversed about 50km of them in the last 2 days.  Tomorrow we head across to Green Mountain on the other side of Lamington NP to continue catching up.

After almost a week in the Gold Coast rat race, it is nice to be again out amongst the spiders and snakes again.  Beth is up to her old tricks, tromping around snakes so that they are in a state of excitement by the time I reach them.  This time she made a little black snake so angry that its head was raised ready to strike after she passed.  I chose not to pass whilst it was in this state and waited (about 10 minutes!!) until it had settled down and slithered slowly away.  We have also encountered the rare blue lamington crayfish ( sounds a bit like w weird cake doesn't it), various lizards, many birds,and of course spiders, but to Beth’s disgust, we have not yet sighted an Albert Lyrebird.

We are enjoying our travels and each other’s company (well I am anyway), but we do miss family and friends and also the intellectual stimulation which the workplace provides, and although we haven’t consciously set out to do so, we seem to be developing something of a routine which ensures that we keep in touch, generally through the social media and technologies at our disposal.  We are also trying hard to be a little more gregarious than happens naturally for us in an effort to spark intelligent conversation, and this means engaging more with our fellow campers.  Although often our conversations are somewhat banal, occasionally we do encounter interesting people with interesting things to say.  In particular, some of our chats with European (mainly German) tourists have been quite rewarding.

Just yesterday we made 2 new sets of friends.  Our closest neighbours in the camp ground are a young Austrian couple who are looking to stay and work in Australia for a couple of years and I thoroughly enjoyed talking to them about their aspirations and picking their brains about a walk that we plan to do in Austria later this year.  My enjoyment of their company was greatly enhanced by the large piece of cake they had baked in the camp oven and provided to accompany the chat.

Beth's new friend was a little different.  We had just returned from a big walk and Beth must have been peckish because she entrusted me with ordering the coffee and cake (which meant that there would be a piece of cake each rather than just one to share).  When I returned to our table, my place had been taken by an older gentleman, with whom Beth was engaged in earnest conversation. My immediate impression was that this was a cad hitting on my wife, and I was torn between feelings of indignation and pride that Beth still had some pulling power.  I think my first impression was accurate, but Beth assures me that his sole intention was to market a map that he had produced. I think that was his fallback position when I arrived on the scene.  Anyway, the truly remarkable thing about this man was that either he was having a lot of fun at our expense or he had been transported from another time (remember Catweazle?).  Whilst discussing the map which he had evidently produced and was looking to market, our conversation turned to Google and smart phones whereupon he looked bemused and asked what was this magical thing of which we spoke.  Beth provided a demonstration, which seemed to amaze him, so she let him play with the phone and for the next half hour he was like child with a new rattle, after which he bemoaned the fact that if things like this existed, how was he going to sell his map.  We are encountering some interesting people.

 

Rainforest walk - Dorrigo

Ebor Falls

New England National Park

New England National Park

Wollomombi Falls sans water

Carpet Python up a tree - Wollomombi Falls

Gara Gorge

Beth atop Cathedral Rocks

Mark atop Cathedral Rocks

Beth climbing Cathedral Rocks with chain assistance

Seagull - Yuraygir NP

Scrambling over rocks - Yuraygir NP

The view we kept looking for - Yuraygir NP

Byron Bay lighthouse

Beth beside a big rainforest tree - Binna Burra - Lamington NP

Late afternoon - Binna Burra

Snake ready for action!!

Early morning - Binna Burra

The rare Blue Lamington Crayfish (we saw 3)

 

Lakes, Lost Days, Lockups and Lessons Learnt - 22 Feb to 4 March

I have been a little slack with updates, for which I do apologise, but plead extenuating circumstances (remember my phone mishap which seriously curtailed my internet activities).  This post will, like the last one, be courtesy of MacDonalds – who seem to be the only provider of “free” Wi-Fi along our route.

We continue to progress in small increments.  Our next stop after Lake Macquarie was Myall Lakes, which was an exhausting (not really) 2 hour drive away.  We camped at a beautiful little National Parks Campground called Mungo Brush which was right on the banks of Lake Bombah and abutting a beautiful little rainforest.  Our campsite was certainly one of the nicest in the campground. Unfortunately for us, the National Parks focus in the Myall Lakes Park is water based activities, so there is something of a dearth of walking tracks, we did find a few quite nice ones however which met our requirements.

 

Our campsite appeared to be a favourite local spot for prawn fishing, and we were treated each night to a parade of local fisher folk working in pairs wading through the shallows in the dark dragging a device resembling a tennis net to catch the poor unsuspecting crustaceans.  This activity progressed well into the night, but far from being a disturbance, it was actually a lot of fun to watch.  On the day we were leaving we were offered a bag of prawns, but unfortunately we had already packed the fridge away, so we had to reluctantly decline.

We really enjoyed Myall Lakes, but we have figured out (via our olfactory senses I think) that 3 days without a shower is probably our limit, so it was time to move on, this time to Booti Booti National Park a little further up the coast (almost to Forster).  This park takes up a small piece of land with ocean one side and Wallis Lake the other side.  Only one night here, but we managed a lovely walk which covered lakeside, seaside, rainforest and some serious (albeit short) climbing and descending, we also managed to wash and dry a load of laundry (well almost – bamboo fibre walking socks stubbornly hold moisture).

From Booti Booti we headed for the hills of Barrington Tops via the historic village of Stroud and the lovely little town of Gloucester both of which are about 100m above sea level and treated us to about 30ish degrees temperatures.  From there it was all uphill in terms of elevation but all downhill in terms of weather.  The campsite we chose to stay at was called Junction Pools and is one of the highest (1,600m above sea level) and more remote places in the park and involved a 12 kilometre 4WD trail which took us over an hour to traverse, by which time it was pouring with rain and freezing cold, and we were provided with yet another opportunity to hone our wet weather camp setup skills, but at least we were better off than the only other poor souls at the campground who had tents to erect.  After getting ourselves established (quite skilfully and efficiently I might add) we checked to see how the tent dwellers were progressing.  They were wet and had been attacked by leeches, but their tents were up and they indicated that they were well equipped with antifreeze (in the form of alcoholic beverages) so they would be fine.  We made a mental note to be leech aware should the rain abate and we head out for a walk.

I said it took “us” over an hour to cover the 12km track to our campsite.  “Us” was in fact Beth who had decided to be the driver on this day.  This was the first serious test of the capabilities of our off road vehicles and of our skills in guiding them.  I have decided that I am not a very good passenger in this type of situation.  Beth did a sterling job of getting us to our destination relatively quickly and in one piece despite my constant advice and little shrieks and winces accompanying each of the perils I perceived at every rock, pothole, water patch or tree we encountered (and there were many).  For the record, I drove out, and it was good fun, but it took me just as long as it took Beth to drive in, and to her credit, although my driving produced more thumps and bumps than hers, she did not outwardly display any of the passenger discomfort that I did (I am sure however that there was some inner turmoil happening).

We did manage a nice walk without getting very wet and without having to pick off too many leeches.  We went to a place called Carey’s lookout, where I believe that there are stunning views to the valleys below.  Unfortunately, although we stood at the lookout, we cannot confirm this because all we could see was a sea of white cloud in front of us.  Upon our return to camp the heavy rain set in, and for all we know it is still hammering down.  The positive in all of this is that I was able to catch up on some reading (The Book Thief was consumed by me over two days – highly recommended) – the negative of course was that we again needed to pack up wet.  Oh well – I guess it’s character building.

We had intended 3 days at Barrington tops, but after two we became stir crazy and again started chasing good weather.  This time our quest for sunshine took us to a town on the north coast called South West Rocks, and this is where we have been the past four days enjoying relatively fine weather and all the wonderful things that South West Rocks has to offer.  The historic Trial Bay Gaol is just around the corner from our caravan park.  It was built in the late 19^th Century as a new prison concept whereby prisoners were to be engaged in a public works project to aid their rehabilitation (in this case the building of a breakwater – which of course was never completed).  There were enormous cost overruns and schedule blowouts associated with building of the gaol, and once it was commissioned it seems to have been an abject failure in meeting its intended purpose (not much has changed over the years has it?).  The gaol was closed in the early 1900’s but was pressed back into service as an internment centre for enemy aliens during WW1.  The term enemy alien seemed to cover anybody with the slightest connection to Germany regardless of their beliefs or allegiances.  Again, it sounds a bit familiar (think bigotry and injustice in the name of “the fight against terrorism”).  Anyway, not quite Port Arthur but very interesting nonetheless.

We have also been able to enjoy some lovely walks, and today’s walk (from the Smoky Cape Lighthouse to Gap Beach via Green Island lookout and return – 12km) was particularly nice despite mosquitoes, spiders and snakes doing their best to spoil the fun.  We applied insect repellent for the mozzies, but this didn’t help with the huge and very strong webs (often containing huge and very strong spiders) which were frequently strung between trees and across our walking path.  Unfortunately we appear to have been the first walkers on some of these tracks for some time, so we needed to be very watchful for the webs or risk wearing a spider on our faces.  Some close shaves, but we came through unscathed at the end of the day, albeit with walking poles thickly coated in very sticky and tough gossamer from breaking holes in webs.

We had our closest encounter yet with a snake today, and again it was Beth who was nearest the action.  This time it was a dangerous red bellied black snake.  We are quite sure of this because we had an excellent view of the red belly as the snake propelled itself off the embankment beside and just ahead of Beth (presumably in fright) and “got air” (i.e. left the ground) as it crossed the track then allowed gravity to work and take it further down the hill.  Taking a photo of this snake was entirely out of the question – I have never seen a snake move so quickly – neither have I ever seen Beth move backwards so quickly.

Yesterday I went for a run early in the morning (my first run for more than a month) on a very flat and even 7km path, and whilst I think I am developing good walking fitness, clearly my running fitness has fallen away a little (time was OK, but residual soreness was not), so perhaps I need to do a few more little runs in amongst the walks.  (By the way, my early morning run did not excuse me from my daily walking regimen – which is probably why they have been infrequent).

It has been such a nice stay at South West Rocks that we are a little afraid to move on, but move we must, and tomorrow we head to Armidale via the Waterfall Way, which I am led to believe is quite beautiful – let’s hope that the weather Gods are kind to us.

A couple of little gaps that I should fill in. 

Beth and I have discussed the naming of our vehicles, and we have resolved that there will be no pet names assigned.  So from hereon (unless I forget) I will refer to them as “the car” and “the trailer”.  Pretty dull I guess, but that suits us.  (Did I just call ourselves dullards?)

Walking poles.  For years I have watched hikers wander around with walking poles but have been somewhat disinclined to use one myself.  My stated rationale is that I get by perfectly well without them and why encumber myself with another piece of equipment.  Truth be known however, I have probably equated “walking pole” with “walking stick” and seen them as a mobility aid and their use as a concession to frailty.  i.e.  There is maybe a macho ego thing happening here?  Having been given a walking pole as a gift from my parents-in-law I have something of a dilemma.  I don’t need one of course – but it would be rude to not use it.  What to do?

Whilst we were walking in the Blue Mountains we happened upon an older couple wielding poles, and I asked them how they found them – adding of course that I didn’t think I needed one just yet.  The old man waxed eloquent about the benefits to him of the pole, but he added a perspective I had not previously considered.  He said the pole isn’t a walking aid for older people, it is a piece of sports equipment used by elite athletes to help them perform at their very best.  I rather liked that perspective and it (as well as a little gentle persuasion from Beth) convinced me to take the pole on an outing the next day.  My assessment?  I am not yet convinced that every walk warrants the pole, but it certainly is a performance enhancing device in steep rocky terrain – and it also works well for poking holes in spider webs.  So thank you Helen and Trevor for the thoughtful and useful gift and the Blue Mountains gentleman for helping to reverse my polarity.

My type of houseboat - Tea Gardens near Myall Lakes

View from our campsite - Mungo Brush

More Mungo Brush views

Tree roots at the waters edge - Mungo Brush

Sunset - Mungo Brush

Grass tree - Myall Lakes NP

Stroud House - Stroud

St Stephens churchyard - Stroud

Gaol Bird - Trial Bay

The view from Carey's Peak Lookout - Barrington Tops NP

Aeroplane Hill - Barrington Tops NP

Trial Bay Gaol - South West Rocks

Gap Bay - Hat  Head NP

Spiders waiting to trap us

Smoky Cape Lighthouse - Hat Head NP

Gap Beach - Hat Head NP