Bundeena - Royal National Park

The story of our trip to Bundeena is short, but nonetheless interesting.

The day after Sally’s arrival in Sydney, Murray, Cat, Sally and I ventured to Bundeena, an area outside of Sydney and home to the Royal National Park, with the intention of hiking along the coast to a remote pair of beaches known as Big and Little Marley. The skies were clear and the views infinite. We walked nearly 2 hours along the escarpment, over rocks which, although we weren't aware of it at the time, teetering precariously over the sea, See the picture of Sally below.



On occasion we were required to walk a series of narrow trails, single file only, Murray and I took turns monitoring the trail ahead for snakes. We decided that this approach to hiking would be best as none of us were carrying cell phones. Our general concern over the presence of snakes was reinforced by the amount of evidence in the surrounding brush: holes and flattened areas beneath bushes. Big Marley was now within sight.



As we made our way along the trail, Sally took over the lead but due to the beautiful scenery neglected her role as “snake observer”, narrowly stepping on a few lizards. Without any means of contacting help, aside from running to town, I was a little paranoid and overtook Sally as we rounded a slight bend. Before the path straightened out something caught my eye at the last second. "EVERYONE STOP", I exclaimed, as everyone bumped into the person ahead of them. "Move away slowly", I said in a quiet voice. No less than 7 feet ahead was a large snake, presumably a 'brown'. Many people called me paranoid and teased me about the extensive research I had done regarding Australia’s dangerous creatures, to them I say: “BOYAH”.




It was exhilarating to see the snake, but it occupied the only route to the beach. I remembered reading that snakes can be startled away by loud vibrations in the ground. So we once again set off down the trail, this time marching like heavy-footed soldiers, sticks in hand. As we approached the area of the snake, my heartbeat increased, as I am sure did everyone else’s. The snake was gone. The remainder of the day was spent at Little Marley, basking in the sun.

Later that evening we were successfully able to identify the snake as an Eastern Brown. The Eastern Brown is second most venomous land snake in the world after the Inland Taipan. According to the information regarding its behaviour, the Eastern Brown reacts only to movement, standing still will likely result in it ignoring you. Had we not spotted the snake, I believe that there was a great possibility of one of us being bitten.

In an odd coincidence, it was not until after discovering the snakes identity did we realize the caption beneath one of the pictures on Wikipedia, it read “Eastern Brown Snake, Bundeena, Australia”. Take a look at the pictures on Wikipedia. Below are some pictures of our day at the Royal National Park.

I would like to wish everyone a safe and happy holidays.

Sydney

Staying with Cat and Murray has been an amazing experience and their hospitality superb. Marsfield, the suburb where I am temporarily residing, is quiet and within walking distance of a few national parks. Macqaurie university seems to be the hub of activity. Sydney's CBD (Central Business District) is approximately an hour and a half bike ride: I made the journey to the CBD a number of times during the course of my stay.

Sydney's main tourist attractions such as the Harbour Bridge, Opera House and Botanical Gardens are centrally located in Circular Quay, where I spent the majority of time. A nice touch to my time in Sydney was meeting up with Alan - a friend from Toronto and former colleague- for a few drinks at the Opera House Bar. On occasion Cat, Murray and I would travel to the beach: Palm or Manly, for a day of fun. Sally flew to Sydney for a few days near the end of my stay. Below are a few pictures of Sydney:

Sydney is one of the most expensive cities in the world and I have been told that Sydneysiders have too much discretionary income. On one of my many walks around the Royal Botanical Gardens, I spotted a $50 bill floating in the harbour close to shore. Interesting fact: Australian currency (paper) is made with plastic thus it cannot be physically torn (we have tried on multiple occasions and it has become somewhat of an ongoing joke) or destroyed by water. For 5 minutes I watched the note float closer and closer to a series of rocks just beyond a retaining wall, all the while strategizing my course of action.

The Plan:
1) Ensure that the note reached a certain distance from the rocks
2) Lower myself over the 8 foot retaining wall onto the rocks
3) Use a tree branch to fish the note out of the water
4) Rejoice at my accomplishment

Unfortunately, every time the note came within the optimal distance to lower myself down, the back splash of the waves against the rocks caused the note to drift back into the harbour and be carried away by the current. I followed the note along the shore for over 30 minutes, eventually I came to the realization that I was defeated.

The following week, during Sally's visit, we took a bus to the CBD and explored Circular Quay. While exiting the Royal Botanical Garden a woman asked if I would take her picture. Maybe it was her bad aim, or my getting distracted and slightly moving my hand, but the transfer failed and the camera free fell towards the pavement, thus commencing our pantomime juggling act. I quickly attempted to catch the camera but ended up batting it back at the woman, the camera now falling against her body. I tried to catch the camera, but missed, now grabbing the woman's breast. I tried a second time and missed yet again, this time grabbing her stomach. Thankfully the woman was wearing a flowing skirt and she was able to slow the cameras descent with the fabric thus allowing me to regain control, unfortunately, in addition to holding the camera, I was also now holding woman's crotch. In the end the woman got her pictures. As we walked away I turned to Sally and said "would this be defined as cheating?". It was awkward.

Stay tuned for the story of our trip Bundeena.

Day 7: Newcastle to Woy Woy to Sydney

Newcastle to Woy Woy - Approximate Distance 85 KM (cycled)
Woy Woy to Sydney - Approximate Distance 42 KM (train)

The morning sky was overcast. Having had a safe and restful sleep, the latter, I am almost certain would not have occurred had I stayed with Jack and Jill, I made my way through the streets of Newcastle to the shoreline where I ate breakfast against a railing overlooking the Pacific.

The Pacific Coast Highway is now but a memory; the remainder of the journey will be spent traveling Highway 111 and rural main roads along the coast, where more often than not you are a few hundred meters from the water. Despite the spectacular ocean views, this route exposes me to severe weather and roads prone to flooding, particularly the area from Budgewoi to The Entrance where the road traverses small patches of land separating lakes from ocean.

From Newcastle to Doyalson, the weather was absolutely perfect for cycling – calm winds and cool temperature. Shortly after exiting Highway 111, I noticed a storm system moving across the ocean towards land, within minutes I was soaked. Despite being wet and having the weight my bike drastically increase, the rain was refreshing and fun. After an hour of cycling the rain intensified – strength and coldness of temperature. The storm created huge swells and I could see the waterline gradually progressing up the shore. It was to late to turn back, I was in the central region of the flood plains, and the only viable alternative was to move forward.

After a few hours the rain lessened to a moderate shower. Arriving in The Entrance with the intention of taking the Ettalong ferry to Palm Beach, I stopped at the visitor information centre for directions. I approached the desk shaking uncontrollably and unable to speak more than a few words without my teeth chattering. Although I was freezing cold, I could not help but find it amusing how often my teeth chattered.

“I… click, click, click…was wondering…click, click…where…click…I could catch the Ettalong ferry…click.click.click.

The lady behind the counter looked at me in a manner similar to a doctor on the verge of delivering bad news, “there is no ferry around here. The Ettalong ferry departs out of Woy Woy”, she stated. “I know, but it’s not much further”, I replied, “about a half-hour by car”, the woman responded. In disbelief I retrieved my maps from my bag, my hands paralyzed in the shape of a capital “C”, only to discover a glaring oversight, my maps had failed to mention that Woy Woy was roughly 50 KM south of The Entrance. The woman, obviously noticing my reluctance to rejoin the dreary conditions outside or spend $90 dollars for a budget accommodation recommended that I cycle 10 KM and catch a train to Woy Woy. Before leaving I changed into warmer clothes in the public restroom.

Upon arrival in Woy Woy, I cycled an additional 10 KM to the ferry station only to see a ferry traveling the opposite direction and a middle aged man fishing from the pier. I approached the man and asked if the boat in the distance was the ferry to Palm Beach, to which he replied, “Yes”. The next ferry was not due to arrive for another hour, add this to the length of the ferry ride and it would be dark on arrival in Palm Beach. After a brief conversation regarding the type of fish he was intending to catch, the man turns and says “I don’t think you should cycle that area with your load, the roads are quite narrow and many a cyclist has been late for dinner traveling that stretch”. As I made my way back to Woy Woy, I thought about what he said and decided to ride the train 42 KM to Sydney. Upon arrival in Sydney Murray, Sally’s cousin, met me.

Note: A few days after arriving in Sydney, Murray, Catherine (Murray’s wife) and I drove to Palm Beach for a day of sun and surf, I am thankful that I took the advice of the man fishing from the pier.