Category: Simon

A search for my family legacy in Wilsons Prom proved fruitless – a fence that sis Mel built a few years back has either been replaced or is very overgrown.
It did give us the chance to stock up on energy bars for our climb of the day up to the granite peak of Mount Oberon that looms over the campsite, and promised views of much of the Prom. Suffice it to say, our preparations of all weather gear and food for the day were a bit over the top, as were my expectations of a peaceful vista of the unspoilt countryside. Once we’d passed the phone masts (the link with Tasmania, so I guess our blogs will be flying through here soon!) we were given tantalising glimpses of the landscape, as the low morning clouds drifted by. We didn’t have to wait long before the clouds burned off, and the impressive landscape presented it’s true glory. The park is quite different to the Australia we’ve seen so far, with its huge granite outcrops sticking out of green forests there is more than a passing resemblance to Yosemite – albeit with less threatening wildlife in the form of Wombats!

Having a wind turbine near the campsite was the only excuse I needed to take a bike ride and have a look, not thinking that they tend to put them at the top of big, and in this case steep hills. At least it got the blood flowing, and we were on our way to Wilsons Prom.
The peninsula is famed for the number of wombats, and on our first walk to the beach we weren’t disappointed, as turning a corner a blonder than expected wombat was making it’s way across the path. They’re funny short stumpy creatures, a bit like a brown stocky badger, and for Aussie wildlife, they’re quite timid when they realise you are there.
The beach had some cool sandstone cliffs, with what looked like sand falls where the sand tries to fall down off the cliff, but during it’s descent is blown back up by the wind to the top again. A couple more beaches later and we were ready to soak up a sunset, with Wilsons Prom being the only place East Aussies can see it set over the sea. I also discovered a sunset cheat mode on my new camera that turns the vaguest orange hue into the most glorious sunset imaginable… er, actually they’re all real, honest! 😉

The legend of the Aboriginal Nargun tells of a beast who lived in a cave near a pool who would grab any person who came too close. A good story, especially if you want to keep other tribes away from your sacred site. The den is a cave behind a pretty waterfall, with stalagtites nearby (Jenolan Caves education proved useful!), and reflections of the water on the rocks above. If you ask me, the murky brown water looked more dangerous than a monster in a cave, but the Aboriginals do know how to pick their sacred sites.
Passing through the villages, there’s a distinct difference in Victoria compared to New South Wales – it has an older more permenant feel than the outback pioneer feel of New South Wales. That might be due to the convenient discovery of gold 9 days after Victoria became a state, and with more gold found than in California, they must have had a fair bit of cash floating around!

We’d spotted Croajingalong (sounds like “cruisin’ a long”) on the map, but with Pete’s promise of secluded wilderness, there was no question of a visit. Picking a walk literally in the wilderness area (and this is Australia, so it must be real wilderness), we took to the gravel roads, having found that if you go faster, the ride is smoother. Anyway, rounding about the fifth corner, a big yellow sign informed us that the road was closed! As a consolation walk, we went along the old coastal path, expecting beautiful sea views, but alas it was mostly through dense forest with tantalising sounds of waves crashing against rocks.
We were making good progress, then Caroline suddenly stopped and jumped back, having nearly stood on these two snakes, having some form of wrestling competition in the middle of the path. Now the warning signs say to just back away from snakes if you see them, which we did, but the snakes didn’t read their part of the sign where they also slither off into the undergrowth. With us making lots of noise, and even chucking things near, (and accidentally on, which got them understandably irate and us fleeing) they didn’t budge. After we took a muffin break, they finally moved on, leaving us to finish our walk with a wary eye at each tree root that crossed the path. I’m sure the snakes we saw weren’t poisonous, but Australia has something like 8 out of the world’s 10 most poisonous snakes, which in my mind translates to 8 out of 10 snakes are poisonous, who said fear was logical?
So, we managed to finish the walk, getting to where we would have started our intended walk, so I’m sure it was stupendously beautiful just over the hill…

I guess we’re suckers for campsites with “beach” in the name, and Hobart Beach is the third in a row of national park campsites – no children, no power, plenty of wildlife, and where the presence of *hot* showers is a major selling point! It’s a much more relaxing way to camp though, and with that feeling you’re in the wilderness too (phone reception was only 1 bar!).
The drive to Hobart Beach was nice, especially as we saw a joey poking out of his mum’s pouch! Most of the journey was on gravel roads, which we are braving more often as we haven’t had any screws fall out for a while. We have also noticed another pleasing reward from all the bumps – the dvd/ cd player seem to have suddenly started working. Bonza!

Awaking to a landscape surprisingly devoid of kangaroos and possums, we took a short walk around the headland where we found the roos enjoying a bit of shade in the forest, yet still munching on grass – I guess they are the native Australian sheep!
The crystal clear waters of Pretty Beach called, so the bodyboard was dusted down for the first time in a few weeks so that we could ride some waves once again. Pretty beach was a truely magical spot and as we headed down the coast to Depot beach in the same national park we were hoping for more. I made do with snorkelling in the shallow (about 30cm!) warm water, spotting wee crabs hiding away as I brushed past. Making an early exit from the beach in search of the loo made us realise that a camper with a toilet may be a good idea next time, either we’re getting looser with the wallets, or we’re just not made for real camping!

Our wee van has done a fair number of kilometres, 419,000 in fact, although we’re only responsible for 5,500 of them. Either way, it needed a few repairs so we had some more time to kill in Jervis Bay. Kitting myself out with a snorkel, I went in search of the marine wildlife, and found some in the form of stingrays, some other bottom dwelling fish and a fair bit of seaweed (which scares the bejesus out of you). The sea was a tad murky, but now I’ve got my own gear I’ll be looking in the sea at any given opportunity!
With van fixed, the journey was back on, with camp for the night at Pretty Beach, which to be fair is actually quite pretty. We’re in a national park, and the wildlife abounds, with the obiligatory Kookaburras, and a possum that appears to have decided it would like to try a curry. The best bit, however, is the herd(?) of grey kangaroos that are happily chewing their way through the campsite grass. There’s so many, and they are so unperturbed by humans that I just about tripped over a little one on the way to the kitchen. It’s a pretty cool feeling to know that if you open your door, chances are there’ll be a couple of kangaroos outside, how much more Australian can you get?
Update: Either the possum is a practical joker, or there’s a clumsy roo out there as something pulled the power cable out!

Our mosey on down the coast from Kiama had us sample the delights of a McCafe (McDonalds coffee shop, not as bad as it sounds!), and sit on the rocks at Jervis Bay as the tide came in, watching the little beasties in the rock pools await the water. We also saw clear bottomed kayaks taking to the water, so there must be a fair bit of life out there.
Jervis Bay is actually part of the Capital Territory (for some reason they reckoned it should have a naval port..), so that’s another state ticked off, not that we saw any sign that we’d changed state.
There were also some huge grey kangaroos nearby, about 2 metres tall, which are probably the males – easy to see why the zoos only keep the smaller, gentler female of the species!

The national parks here are ridiculous sizes, Morton National park where we are is a mere 190,000 hectares. Enough space to find somewhere else to walk and avoid the leeches of yesterday!
So after a 3km walk around the escarpment (that’s a cliff to the uninitiated like myself), passing waterfalls at every corner, we started the descent to the coast. As you’ve probably guessed by now, Aussies don’t do things by halves, and after a few kilometres of steep descent the van started emitting a funny smell, probably just the brakes on fire!
The bottom of the hill was Kiama, site of two blowholes, where the rock allows waves underneath and up through a hole. The larger blowhole looks like the Sarlacc (sand beast) from Return of the Jedi, and every so often a big whoosh is followed by a jet of water squirting up. The smaller blowhole is only about a foot square, but the water squirts higher and the whoosh is louder – it’s also easier to hear without everyone oohing and aahing in the background!

Like a poorly made B-movie, the leeches are back when you least expect them!
The drive to Bundanoon across the tablelands was like something out of a British summer – rolling green hills with pine trees – only with the roads a little quieter, and the views stretching that little bit further. The sleepy hamlet of Bundanoon claims Scottish heritage, but not being a scratch on Maclean further up the coast, we made for Morton National Park and a quick walk into the forest.
Taking the longer walk, and the path less trodden, we reached the Fairy Bower falls, and whilst clambering over rocks to photographise, I slipped and got a foot soaking. Now it was whilst looking at my one sodden foot that I noticed the waving tentacles of three or four leeches! Now you may think I go on a bit about leeches, but they have one task in mind – having a suck on your blood. Also, unlike mozzies, they are fearless and aren’t scared off by a wave of your hand or even a flick of a stick, just continue up your shoe relentlessly. They just hold on at one end and wave around until the find something to grab on to. To top it off, you can’t even tell which end bites! So, the walk back up was fast, with frequent stops to check for leeches and tuck trousers into shoes. I’m sure at least fifteen of the critters made their attempts, but not a single one got to skin, woohoo!
The day was rounded off with a trip to Glow Worm Glen at night, with trousers firmly tucked in red leech spotting socks, we walked a kilometre down to see the little green glowing worms in their natural habitat, made even more fun by torch failure on the way back!