Leaving Byron Bay, we took a walk up to a lighthouse to look out over the Pacific, marking the most easterly point of mainland Australia. Grabbing a coffee for the drive, we then headed down to Coffs Harbour, staying nearby at Sapphire Beach. We took a wander along to a bird colony island and watched the waves of the Pacific Ocean crash against the headland as thousands of nesting birds hunkered down around us in their burrows.
Hunter Valley
The next day, we left early and drove 4 hours or so to Hunter Valley, another of Australia’s wine regions, recognisable for McGuigan and a couple of other big brand wines. Arriving at lunchtime, we headed to Brokenwood Wines for lunch and a drop of Shiraz. I partook of their $10 Cellar Door tasting, which was pretty disappointing with low quality wines. We then headed to another Cellar Door at the decidedly more palateable Tulloch Wines, where the sommelier was significantly more experienced and the tasting was free.
Shona had taken over the driving by now and wrestled the motorhome the 13km to our campsite for the night. A walk into the particularly uninviting town and back, and we settled in for the evening (a snoozy Ben after his wine and sunshine).
Blue Mountains
From Hunter Valley, we drove south to the Blue Mountains. On this stretch we saw our first signs of some of the fires that have ripped through Australia this summer. Scorched woodland lined either side of the road; the fire clearly having jumped the tarmac firebreak in high winds. However, despite the damage, the Eucalypts will survive this; we could see new growth was spawning from the charred branches.
The Blue Mountains were reportedly badly damaged by the fires, and had been a no-go area when we first arrived in Australia, but as we arrived, the trails local to Katoomba were reopening. Aside from two distant plumes and a haze of smoke on the horizon, we again saw no signs of the blaze.
In fact, through our entire journey, we have slightly smelled smoke once, seen a short stretch of blackened trees and these two plumes of smoke. Through great fortune and good timing, we’ve missed the destruction that has gripped over 1% of Australia’s landmass.
On that note, we have been following the international coverage of the bush fires, and in no way wishing to diminish the scale of the catastrophe, the hyperbole and sensationalism rampant in [UK] journalism is very disappointing. I’ve several times seen NASA’s satellite imagery used to show the extent of the fires. These have been misused. The images were designed to show where all the fires have been over the past 3 months, and through unfortunate use of colour (red) to denote not-to-scale ‘hot spots’, they make it appear as if most of Australia has literally been ablaze. This just isn’t the case.
These fires have been awful. They’ve been more intense and widespread than ever before in living memory. People have died, and Australia’s heroic fire fighters have battled through extreme conditions. But Australia is a vast country, and the summer fire season is a natural part of the bush’s cycle. A warming climate with less rain, and more intense winds is exascerbating the scale and impact of the fires, but sensationalising the extent of the fires is not necessary, and this will hurt Australia in the long run.
Back to the Blue Mountains. We did a couple of the trails around the mountains, which were good walking paths with great views, if quite well trodden. We stayed in a decent, quiet campsite with nice facilities at Katoomba that evening, for our last night in the motorhome.
The Van
By this time, we were ready to see the back of the ‘van. 3 weeks is a long time in such a confined environment – despite brief reprieve with Brian and Rosemary. We’d had enough of spending the majority of the day either driving it, cooking in it, or sleeping in it. Overall, we don’t think it’s saved us money, given the high cost of rental, fuel and the campsite fees (necessary as without being hooked up to power, there was no aircon!). The daily chore of hooking up, converting living quarters, emptying waste, packing up, unhooking, etc was getting a bit tiresome. However, being able to cook for ourselves and ready access to laundry facilities will be missed!
Sydney
We dropped the van back off at the depot – a refreshingly straightforward experience, and after driving 3679 kilometres from Port Douglas, jumped into a taxi to be driven the last few kilometres into Sydney.
We were staying at the Ovolo 1888 hotel, just behind Darling Harbour. After checking in and freshening up, we took a wander up to the harbour, walking out past the new development of a giant casino at Barangaroo, and around the artificial wharfs, heavy with eateries and pricy apartments (Cruise and Kidman owned one once, now split into 4 costing a cool $12m each.) Catching our first view of the iconic Sydney Harbour Bridge, we then headed through The Rocks to Circular Quay. Walking past the giant cruise ship moored in the deep harbour we looked out over the Sydney Opera House. Wandering around the city we also took in the botanic gardens, the arts district, the business district and the Chinese Garden of Friendship – where we saw many Ibis birds lurking around (locally known as ‘bin chickens’).
That evening, we had a decent meal at a local restaurant, and some free drinks at the hotel. The next day, in some spitting rain, we wandered over to the Museum of Contemporary Art, then took a harbour boat tour around the the bays of Sydney, before freshening up at the hotel and walking up to the Hipstery Newtown to meet up with our friend Julie, who we met diving in the Philippines. We had a lovely evening and a good meal – it was great to catch up and share diving stories. We’re to keep her abreast of our next dive stops!
For our last full day in Sydney, we’d booked a bicycle tour of the city, but the previous day’s intermittent rain had now become a full blown torrential downpour. It’s a weird experience, to wake up to rain, but for everyone (and we mean everyone) to be delighted about it. Must take some of this positivity back with us to a bleak February in Scotland.
The bike tour was… well… wet. Very very wet. Cycling through rivers wet. We’d worn our waterproofs, including our waterproof walking trainers. Problem with waterproof shoes is that they eventually fill up with water, and then you’re sloshing about in a pair of shoe-buckets. We covered a good amount of ground on the tour, but by the end of it, despite the ambient temperature still being around 21ºC, we were pretty cold. Stopping for a very good pastry, we sploshed back to the hotel, amused at the umbrella carnage en route; like watery roadkill littering the pavements.
Our last evening, we turned the culture up to 11. We dressed in our finest gear (clean t-shirt and smartish trousers) and walked through the easing rain to the opera house to see La Boheme. Now, anyone who knows me will appreciate that I’m a huge fan of musicals, dance, stage shows, classical and operatic music, and the performing arts in general. Indeed, Shona can attest to the many times she’s heard me whisper the appreciative words: “what the fuck is going on?” and ”this is utter balls” at a show…
… However, I actually thought it was alright. If it hadn’t been for the subtitles, it would have been baffling nonsense, but there was humour, good voices, a mostly coherent storyline, good sets and choreography, and it was a cracking venue. Also, I only asked “what the hell is going on?” once. The theatrical linked-hands, multiple rounds of bowing and applause at the end were totally cringe-worthy, but otherwise, a solid 4/10.
And with that, we come to today, our departure day. I got out for a run first thing (two days in a row, I’m in bits), shower, some impressive packing, breakfast and we were at the airport for lunchtime for the long day of travel to our next, and penultimate desination, Samoa.
Travels with Sklaroffs 