Mrs Macquarie's Point:  down at the Harbour water's edge, we took the path which followed the harbour-side around an inlet towards Mrs Macquarie's Point, named after the wife of Major-General Lachlan Macquarie, Governor of the New South Wales penal colony from 1810 to 1821; she had made this peninsula projecting into the Harbour one of her regular haunts. The glorious vista that opened up looking westwards back along the length of the Harbour against the skyline of the CBD's tower blocks (Photo 26- CBD tower-blocks vista) further illustrated what a magnificent natural haven Sydney Harbour was, fully protected from the open Pacific within the harbour entrance at the Heads. This was to be another day of a 1001 Bridge and Opera House photos, but this time with the 2 icons of Sydney figuring in the same view across the waters of the Harbour from the eastern side (see right) (Photo 27- Harbour Bridge and Opera House). This magnificent view was photographed from beneath every tree we passed to create our trademark leafy framed image (Photo 28 - Westward view under harbour-side trees). We reached the tip of the peninsula where the classic water-scape panorama presented itself to be photographed (Photo 29 - Harbour water-scape panorama), with harbour lapping against shore; and having responded to requests from several sets of Japanese tourists to take their photos, we photographed ourselves at this splendid spot (see left) (Photo 30 - Shared Harbour photo) against the backdrop of Sydney's classic icons.

We clambered up onto the point of Mrs Macquarie's peninsula for yet more photos, then walked over to the rocky headland where the demanding Mrs Mac (She Who Must be Obeyed, even by the Governor himself) had required colonial workmen to excise several rock-seats in the sandstone outcrops from which she could view the scene which, almost two centuries later, would be graced with Sydney's iconic Bridge and Opera House. The grandiloquent inscription on the rock seat declared for all to see:

Darnanelles Pass Path through rainforest:  we set off westwards along the transverse Dardanelles Pass Path, with the route rising and falling through the rainforest. The path advanced along a shelf across the downward-sloping forest floor (see below left) which fell away below us way down into the lower Jamison Valley (Map of rainforest path). We stopped frequently to photograph the exotic trees: huge Tree-Ferns (Photo 65 - Rainforest Tree Ferns) (see below right), and orange and white bare trunks of Eucalyptus, their stringy bark peeling off and hanging in shreds or lying in heaps on the ground below the trees. It was all so thrilling viewing such exotic trees, to the accompaniment of the constant background shrieking and warbling calls of unseen forest bird-life.

We paused to eat our lunch cobs just after joining the Federal Pass Path, revelling in the atmosphere of the dense rainforest vegetation. Moving forward, we found a flowering shrub of Lambertia formosa, commonly known as Mountain Devil (Photo 66 - Mountain Devil flowers) (from its horn-shaped fruits), with its spectacular red tubular, spiny flower-heads; this was another flower producing profuse amounts of nectar and pollinated by honeyeaters. We also saw a Banksia shrub with its yellow 'bottle-brush' flower heads. Here was botanising with a difference (see below right). We continued for some 2 kms through the dense forest, the bird sounds now lessening as we reached the still running lower downfalls of the Katoomba Cascades which we could hear from a distance as we approached. We also passed a Turpentine Tree (Syncarpia glomulifera), another tree of the Eucalyptus family, growing up to 60m in height and native to Queensland and NSW; its crushed leaves have a taste and smell reminiscent of turpentine. The distant view back towards the Three Sisters was magnificent lit by the morning sun.

Tourist hordes brought down by funiculars to pollute the rainforest:  so far we had enjoyed almost complete solitude on our passage through the rainforest, meeting only the occasional other walkers; but increasing numbers were gathering around the crossing of the waterfalls. Some 250m beyond this however, we passed through gates into the so-called Scenic World, a sordid and exploitational Disney Land area set amid the natural rainforest, with 2 funicular railways up the escarpment and the horrifically intrusive Scenic Skyway cable-car spanning the cliffs above the Upper Katoomba Falls. At first as we entered this area, the crowds of tourists who had descended effortlessly by funicular did not seem unduly intrusive. But our attention was entirely focussed on the magnificent spectacle of the Three Sisters away to the east, the craggy cliff-line of the Katoomba escarpment towering overhead (see left) (Photo 67 - Three Sisters), and the multi-green colours  of the forest floor which filled the entire valley, all dominated by the stunning profile of Mount Solitary away to the south. And by now the cloud had broken fully to give blue sky, with bright sunshine illuminating the Three Sisters and cliff-faces. The funicular however brought down increasing multitudes of unrestrained, rowdy tourists; we therefore advanced further through the area of trivial 'attractions' put there to entertain the tourists, as if the unbelievable beauty of the natural landscape were not enough in itself to hold the attention of these vacuously simple-minded folk.

We continued round to the start of the rainforest board-walk which looped off the main path. Treacherously slippery in the moist rainforest atmosphere, the wooden board-walk felled the tourists, ill-shod in their city shoes, who rowdily disturbed the peace of the forest; why do they come down here to pollute the forest, so indifferent to these majestic natural surroundings? Scattered among the densely wooded rainforest were specimens of stately tall Mountain Blue Gum Trees (Eucalyptus deanei), a species of Eucalyptus endemic to New South Wales and growing up to 65m tall, with smooth, pale bark. Thick, convoluted woody Liana vines enveloped trees and hung from branches (see below left). We had been told that Superb Lyre Birds could sometimes be seen scratching around on the rainforest floor, but with all the brouhaha and disturbance created by the wretched tourists, this seemed unlikely today. We enquired about the Lyre Birds with a maintenance man, who dutifully (but unconvincingly) tried to persuade us about the owners of Scenic World and their supposed efforts to conserve the rainforests. We were neither persuaded nor impressed; they were still making a fortune out of the funiculars and Skyway which daily brought 1000s of tourists effortlessly down, totally indifferent to the natural wonders, to disrupt the peace of the forest and to disturb the wildlife. The rowdiness of the Japanese tourists in particular was so offensively intrusive, and totally ruled out any chance of sighting of the Lyre Bird.

Re-ascent of escarpment via Furber Steps:  returning to the main path-way, we fought our way back through the tourist hordes who blocked the way, rowdily photographing one another by the pseudo-coalmine attractions. These were intended to inform visitors about the late 19th century coal and shale mines which were worked here below Katoomba, and whose tramways were the predecessors of today's tourist funiculars; (not of course that the tourists had any interest in being so informed!). Our attention was focussed on the distant profile of the Three Sisters, framed by the overhanging giant Tree Ferns (see right). All of this intrusively disturbing presence of rowdy tourists made us determined not to use the funicular for our re-ascent, but to return to the Furber Steps as our means of re-ascending the escarpment. Once we had left behind the immediate surroundings of Scenic World, peace and solitude thankfully were restored. We returned to the foot of the Furber Steps and eat our choc-bars before beginning the re-ascent. At least on the lower sections, the Furber Steps gradient looked less severe than on our descent via the Giant Steps. Steadily we set off upwards, section by section, still hoping to see a Superb Lyre Bird on the forested slopes of the cliff. Generally the steps were less severe and less exposed, and we gained height steadily without undue effort. The vista across the panorama of the forest-covered Jamison Valley, backed by Mount Solitary forming the southern valley rim, was simply magnificent (see left). But what was even more extraordinary was the increasingly clear line of sight towards the Three Sisters, and we took a series of photos as we advanced little by little up the cliff. From this angle, the footbridge connecting the cliff face onto the rock platform on the innermost of the Three Sisters pinnacles that we had crossed this morning, was clearly visible (Photo 68 - Three Sisters pinnacles) (see right).

Apart from 2 or 3 steeper sections with some steel steps, the ascent presented no problems. Three quarters of the way up, a side path diversion shelved around to a lookout giving spectacular views of the Katoomba Falls (Photo 69 - Katoomba Falls) which dropped over the rim of the cliff-line way above (see left), falling the entire 1,000 feet height of the escarpment. On the shelved sections of the climb, the path passed under magnificent rocky overhangs where strata of sedimented clay had been eroded below the over-topping residual sandstone (Photo 70 - Eroded cliff overhang) (see below right). Through the fringe of trees at this lookout (see below left), Mount Solitary stood like a sentinel on the southern flank of the forest-covered Jamison Valley. Returning to the main path, we advanced up the final steps to reach the transverse Prince Henry path which would lead around the upper cliff-tops back to Echo Point for the bus back into town. But the signposts ran out, and the pathways became confusingly uncertain. We eventually emerged onto the cliff-top road at a car park near the Katoomba camping site. A pair of Parakeets had chosen this spot to roost in a tree. There was no time now to attempt to walk around to Echo Point; we should miss the last bus which left at 5-15pm. Fortunately, although there was no bus stop in sight, we managed to flag down a bus, by coincidence with the same helpful driver as earlier; this circled back to Echo Point and dropped us back in Katoomba outside the Carrington. We had truly earned our schooners of Amber tonight.

Final evening at Katoomba:  in the pub, again we got into conversation with a local Aussie, and talked cricket, and employment in country towns such a Katoomba, and contributed with answers to the pub quiz which was just starting. The air was cold tonight as we walked around to the Greek Cypriot restaurant opposite the station for our supper. The owner hussled us to place our order, as we chatted with an elderly Aussie couple whom we had met in the Thai restaurant last evening. This initial inhospitable non-welcome should have been sufficient to alert that this was not the place for us; as should the horrendous prices when we gaped at the menu. But we were unguardedly tempted by the allure of Greek food, and failed to react to these obvious red-flag warnings; common sense said we ought to have walked out at that point. But instead we ordered 3 dishes: merides, keftedes and souvlaki and a Greek salad. What arrived were micro-portions of not particularly noteworthy quality; and the bill for this unimpressively limited supper was equally breathtaking! Furious with ourselves for being so deluded, and not walking out in the first place, we returned to the Carrington still hungry, to complete our supper with another beer and a large bag of crisps since the pub had stopped serving chips at 9-00pm! On a chillingly cold evening, we returned for our final night at No 14 Hostel, after such a wonderfully memorable day's walking amid the Jamison Valley rainforests. Tomorrow we should return by train to Sydney.

Return by train to Sydney:  another 7-00am start to the day in order to write up yesterday's log which had been started last night. No 14 Hostel had been an good choice: a peaceful environment, good facilities, and a helpful and hospitable welcome from the owner. We re-packed our kit (Photo 71 - No 14 Hostel), and set off with full packs for the exhausting walk back uphill to Katoomba station.

At the station, we bought our return tickets from the same friendly ticket lady. The 11-20 train from Sydney drew in, terminating at Katoomba; we managed to get seats with good views for the return journey (see below left), as the train passed through all the delightful little country stations on the way into Sydney. The train drew into Sydney at 13-20 and, donning our packs, we made our way out of the now familiar Central Station and plodded through the park (where White Ibises scavenged the bins for scraps) across to the Big Hostel. The warden welcomed us back; our room, this time on the top floor was ready so we were able to stow our kit and pack light day sacs ready for an afternoon in the Central Business District of Sydney. After a wait at the bus stop across the road, we caught the free bus down into the city. After the peaceful air of Katoomba, the noise of Sydney traffic resounded deafeningly in our ears.

Wollemi Pine at Sydney Botanic Gardens:  our plan for this afternoon was to revisit the Botanical Gardens, then to walk through the central city to visit key buildings of the CBD. Busy city traffic slowed the bus to a crawl down Elizabeth Street, but we got off at the stop before Circular Quay and walked through to the corner of the Botanic Gardens, the site where the NSW colony's first convict settlers grew vegetables. In the central area of the gardens, we found the cultivated specimen of the Wollemi Pine (Wollemia nobilis) (see right) (Photo 72 - Wollemi Pine), a species of coniferous tree surviving from the Cretaceous Period. The tree was previously known only from fossil records and thought to be long extinct, until discovered in 1994 by a bush-walker in an isolated, temperate rainforest wilderness area of the Wollemi National Park in north-west New South Wales, in narrow, steep-sided sandstone gorges. Wollemi Pines are classified as a critically endangered species, and legally protected in Australia with less than 100 specimens surviving in the wild. They were saved from damage in the 2019~2020 bush fires by the prompt action of National Park and Rural Fire Service fire fighters. They grow to 25~40m tall in the wild, with long, flat evergreen leaves and distinctive dark brown knobbly bark. After their discovery, they were successfully cloned and grown at Sydney Botanic Gardens; a small cultivated population of the trees has now been established and a recovery plan drawn up to ensure that the species remains viable. Close to the cultivated specimen in the Botanic Gardens, huge Grey-Headed Flying-Fox bats roosted in the trees (see below left and right) and soared around with their 2 feet wide wing span (Photo 73 - Grey-Headed Flying-Fox).

New South Wales State Library:  we spent a while photographing both the Wollemi Pine and the bats, before returning to the corner of Macquarie Street, and crossing to the State Library of NSW with its imposing neo-classical façade. The reason for our brief visit was to see the reproduction of Dutch explorer Abel Tasman's 1644 first mapping of the continent of Australia, set into a floor mosaic just inside the foyer (Photo 74 - Taman's first mapping of Australia); the original copy of the map is held in the Library's historic collection. The map depicted an outline of Australia but with details of the east coast missing and the northern Cape York extremity joined to Papua-New Guinea. Outside the State Library stood a statue of the British explorer and cartographer Matthew Flinders who led the second expedition to circumnavigate Australia in 1802~3.

New South Wales State Parliament:  just along Macquarie Street, we reached the NSW State Parliament which historically was housed in one of the wings of the original Sydney hospital. The NSW convict colony was settled in 1788, and by 1824 a small Legislative Council was established to assist the Governor in the colony's administration. By 1829 the Council began meeting in the hospital and became the centre of New South Wales's democratic government. Unsure of whether we could visit the NSW State Parliament, we hesitantly approached the security guards. They enthusiastically almost press-ganged us into the building, and after passing us through security, they directed us across to the main building. Here we were similarly welcomed by the receptionist, who explained to us something of the NSW democratic process and workings of their bi-cameral State Parliament. The Lower House, the Legislative Assembly, has 93 members, elected every 4 years by proportional representation. The Upper House, the Legislative Council, has 42 members, and is similarly voted for by the electorate. Bills pass from the Lower to the Upper House and, if passed, are approved by the Governor. The Canberra Federal Government controls national affairs such as foreign policy and defence, while the States have devolved powers over state finances, health, education and transportation.

We were shown the Chamber of the Lower House, the Legislative Assembly (see left)  (Photo 75 - Legislative Assembly) and encouraged to walk around, even to sit in the Speaker's chair, and to take whatever photos we wished. The Chamber was laid out like Westminster, with green leather benches and government and opposition sides. The recent 4-yearly general election had resulted in a change of government from Labour to Conservative. We were similarly shown the Upper House, the Legislative Council (see right) (Photo 76 - Legislative Council) modelled on the Westminster Lords with red leather benches, and again were free to take photos. A range of leaflets was available explaining the NSW democratic processes, and we were able to question the attendant in comparing the British and Australian systems of devolved government. As we finished the visit, the attendant presented us with a huge and weightily bound hard-back glossy history of the NSW State Parliament; how we should manage to carry home this souvenir of our visit in our already heavy packs remained to be seen!

Family connections with Sydney Hospital:  further along Macquarie Street, now busy with Friday afternoon traffic, we reached Sydney Hospital (see left) where Sheila had a distant family connection. Her late Great-Uncle Jack had emigrated to Australia in the 1920s and had settled at Manly (see later below); his daughter Kathleen, Sheila's second cousin, had trained and worked as a nurse at Sydney Hospital in the late 1930s. The hospital, originally founded by Governor Macquarie and his wife in 1816 and funded by profits from the lucrative rum trade, was modelled on a typical English county infirmary. We crossed over to the hospital, and up the steps found the lobby to the Board Room with medical staff name boards (see right), exactly as at English hospitals like the Radcliffe Infirmary in Oxford. Outside, a pathway led through to a quad with a fountain, the old ward blocks now overshadowed by neighbouring office tower-blocks (Photo 77 - Sydney Hospital), and the Nightingale Building; this must have been the School of Nursing where Kathleen had trained. A small plaque on a plinth near the fountain was dedicated to the memory of nurses who had trained at Sydney Hospital during the early 20th century, which had included Sheila's second cousin Kathleen, a moving moment in our travels.

Sydney Anzac Memorial and Queen Victoria Building:  we walked on through Hyde Park gardens which were busy in the growing dusk of a late Friday afternoon (see above left), and crossed to the gardens surrounding the huge Art Deco Anzac Memorial (see right). In the failing light, we walked down busy Druitt Street but it was too dark to see the detail of the ornate Town Hall. But across the busy street, we entered the shopping mall of the restored Queen Victoria Building. Built as a market hall in 1898 in Romanesque Revival style on the scale of a cathedral with huge central dome and stained glass windows, it was named the Queen Victoria Market Building to commemorate her Diamond Jubilee. The structure was restored in 1986 to create a modern shopping mall. But this was certainly not the usual kind of shopping centre to be seen in most cities: the restored Queen Victoria Building tastefully preserved all the architectural features, monumental scale and interior design of the original grandiose building (Photo 78 - Queen Victoria Building) (see below left), with beautiful tiled floors, magnificent staircases and galleries, antique lifts, arched windows and wonderful vaulted partially-glazed ceiling. It truly was an architectural masterpiece (Photo 79 - Tasteful interior design) (see below right and left), and quite understandably there were almost as many people photographing the building's restored interior as shopping.

Pub supper up at the Rocks and return to Big Hostel:  weary from walking, we took stock on supper options for this evening, finally deciding to catch a bus up to the Rocks for drinks and supper at the Hero of Waterloo. George Street, the main shopping drag, was busy with commuters, shoppers and tourists. Our first thought was to catch a bus down at Circular Quay, but it soon became clear that bus services from outside the Queen Victoria Building went directly up to Millers Point passing the Hero of Waterloo. A #433 bus came along and the very helpful driver confirmed the route; we were able to get off right opposite the pub which, contrary to expectations, was far from busy despite being Friday evening. We sat in the corner with our beers and ordered supper. Later in the evening, a duo of guitar and fiddle set up to play Irish style music, all very entertaining.

But we had to leave to catch the return bus. At first it seemed from the timetable that we had missed the last service from Millers Point which finished at 8-00pm; we should have to walk down to Circular Quay. But unexpectedly a #433 came along just as we were setting off to walk. It was the same driver as earlier, and in response to our question as to whether he went to Central Station, he replied with good humour "If you insist!" We did, and were dropped off alongside the station, just 5 minutes' walk from the Big Hostel. Although weary, we wrote up some of today's log and read up for tomorrow. What a successfully action-packed half-day we had enjoyed in Sydney: we had again seen and learned so much, and again experienced the open and hospitable Aussie manner, with many memorable encounters. Tomorrow we should cross Sydney Harbour ferry to Manly, but tonight peaceful Katoomba, from where we had returned only this lunchtime, seemed a million miles away.

Ferry across Sydney Harbour to Manly:  we were away early to catch the bus down to Circular Quay for our day over at Manly on the north shore by the Harbour entrance from the Pacific Ocean (Map of Sydney). Despite being autumn, the morning was warm and sunny with a clear sky, and we walked through to landing stage number 3 for the ferry over to Manly. Ferries constantly chugged to and from the quays. The Manly ferry drew in and we boarded to stand up in the bows for best views across the harbour. As the ferry drew away from the quay, further views opened up of the Bridge across the sparkling water (see above right) and Opera House (Photo 80 - Opera House), this time from end-on against the backdrop of the CBD. It was a truly glorious morning. The ferry crossed the harbour at a fair speed, passing the water-side path we had walked last week out to Mrs Macquarie's Chair (see left). The panorama around the inlet gave a clear impression of what a wonderful naturally sheltered and extensive anchorage Sydney Harbour was (see right), and a further view of Bridge and Opera House opened up looking down the length of the Harbour from the ferry (Photo 81 - Harbour panorama).

As the ferry advanced eastwards along the length of the Harbour, we could see from the ferry bows the narrow width of the Harbour inlet entrance between the North and South Heads, giving protection from the open Pacific Ocean (see below left). The ferry drew close to Manly with its sheltered harbour-side beach in a small pine-fringed cove alongside the ferry anchorage (see below right). Stepping ashore at the busy ferry terminal (Photo 82 - Manly ferry terminal), first stop was the Tourist Information Centre for brochures, maps and information about buses down to North Head. Manly seemed to have the pleasantly old-fashioned atmosphere of a family-day-out seaside resort, with beach, surfing and aquarium. For a weekend and sunny Saturday, the town was not unduly crowded.

One of our reasons for visiting Manly was in search of a further aspect of Sheila's family connection: Manly had been the home of her Great-Uncle Jack and his family. Great-Uncle Jack Hardy, was Sheila's Grandmother's elder brother; like many enterprising young men of the post-WW1 generation, he had emigrated initially to Canada with his wife Lottie. Their only daughter Kathleen, Sheila's Mother's cousin, was born in September 1920. The family subsequently moved to Australia in the late 1920s and set up home in Manly at 39 Wentworth Street. Kathleen trained as a nurse at Sydney Hospital during the late 1930s, and met her future husband, who was serving during WW2 as an officer with the American forces in Australia; they married in 1946 at St Matthew's Church Manly. In 1947 Kathleen joined her husband in USA and they lived in West Virginia with their son who was born around 1948~9. After miscarrying their second child in November 1950, Kathleen was given a blood transfusion, which in those days was unscreened; soon after she became seriously ill, and tragically died in March 1951 aged 31. Sheila's genealogical researches revealed that the cause of death was recorded on the death certificate as Homologous Serum Jaundice (ie Hepatitis B), most likely caused by transfusion of infected blood. Great-Uncle Jack died in 1961, and his death was registered at Gosford north of Sydney; Auntie Lottie died in 1963, and her death was registered at Lithgow.

We walked up into the town and soon identified Wentworth Street which linked the harbour and ferry terminal through to the beach on the Pacific coast. We found the likely area where number 39 might once have been, but of course, the Wentworth Street of 2011 was a series of modern apartments and shops; the site of number 39 seemed now to be occupied by a fish and chip café (see left). This seemed a most fitting place to buy our lunch, and we took our fish and chips across to the beach at South Steyne Prom to eat at the picnic tables there (see below left), surrounded by predatory Silver Gulls. Ever the champions of the underdog, we rewarded a one-legged gull with a chip, which caused mayhem with the rest of the squawking flock. Considering the lovely Saturday afternoon weather, the sea-front was not as crowded as might be expected; looking out over Manly beach and surf of the Pacific coast, the sun was strong and bright but breeze brisk and cool (Photo 84 - Manly beach). The fish and chips were delicious and made an appropriate Manly lunch, against the backdrop of the block of shops and apartments now occupying the site in Wentworth Street, where Sheila's Uncle Jack had once lived (Photo 85 - Fish and chips beach lunch). After lunch we walked back down the Corso, the main street across the peninsula between Manly harbour and Pacific Ocean, past St Matthew's Church (see right) where Uncle Jack's daughter Kathleen was married in April 1946.

Footpath around North Head:  on investigating buses back at the harbour, we learned that the supposed free buses out to the former Quarantine Station at North Head were in fact few and far between. Further enquiry at the TIC about buses this time produced a more helpfully optimistic report: the #135 service from Stand J in fact ran right out to North Head, exactly where we wanted to go. An outward bus was due at 13‑38, and a return was scheduled for 15‑50, giving us two hours to walk the footpath out to the Head; these times were perfect. The bus drew in, and although the driver was not as helpful as most we had encountered, he did drop us exactly where required, some 6kms from the town, right at the start of the Sydney Harbour National Park circular footpath around the headland of North Head.

We eventually found the start of the footpath which ran through impenetrable bush-scrub covering the headland. The path out led to Fairfax lookout-point which gave magnificent views around the full panorama of the natural inlet of Sydney Harbour: we could look across the seemingly narrow gap, between where we were stood here on the cliff-top at North Head, and South Head just opposite across the sound at the Harbour entrance from the open Pacific out to the east. This again showed clearly the protected nature of Sydney's natural harbour. We could follow the full length of this wonderful natural sound with all its bays and inlets, around into the far western distance where the tower-blocks of Sydney city came into view (see left) (Photo 86 - View from North Head) with just a glimpse of the Bridge. Sailing boats and speed boats filled the harbour, with the more determinedly functional Manly ferries ploughing their way diagonally across the water. Out in the Pacific, an Australian Navy corvette patrolled off-shore. From this cliff-top vantage point at North Head, we stood gazing out across the harbour taking many photographs both of the views over Sydney Harbour and of the cliff-top flora. These included Heath-leaved Banksia (Banksia ericifolia) with its yellow-orange 'bottle-brush' shaped flower-heads, Fuschia Heath (Epacris longiflora) with its distinctive tubular flowers pink at the base and tipped with white, and an unidentified decorative shrub with bright red elaborate flowers (Photo 87 - North Head shrubs) (see left). Given the magnificent setting and views, it was understandable that the North Head paths were a popular area for cyclists with many out enjoying the autumn sunshine.

From the high cliffs above North Head, we completed the circuit of footpath through the maquis-like scrubland, back around to the car park where the bus had dropped us earlier, to sit on the grass looking out over the harbour as we waited for the return bus into Manly (see below right). There was time to walk a second time along Wentworth Street for further photos of the modern shops and apartments now occupying the site of number 39. And with late afternoon shadows lengthening but the sun still shining brightly, we could not resist going down across the white sands of Manly beach for photos of a ritual paddle in the surf of the Pacific Ocean (Photo 88 - Paddling in Pacific).

Return to Sydney for another Rocks pub supper:  it was time now to head back to the pier for the return ferry. We again managed to get positions up in the prow, anticipating sunset photos over the Harbour Bridge as the ferry crossed the Harbour on the return to the city (see left). We were not disappointed: the timing of sunset could not have been more perfect, and the golden orb of the sun declined slowly to set with a ruddy glow behind the silhouetted bridge just as the ferry drew closer to Circular Quay (Photo 89 - Sunset over Harbour Bridge). The after-glow lingered behind the Bridge edging the clouds with a golden frill (see below left).

Ashore from the ferry, we decided to return to the Hero of Waterloo up at the Rocks for a light supper. It was a short walk up Argyle Street, under the Bridge highway, past the Garrison Church and down Lower Fort Street, and we were settled with our schooners of Amber by 6‑30pm. This week the elderly jazz quartet were just finishing, before this evening's threateningly loud guitar duo began their session. The #431/433 buses to Central Station, which seemingly ran on Friday evenings when the timetable said they shouldn't, positively did not run on Saturdays at all. We therefore returned on foot down Argyle Street, through hordes of young Japanese tourists to Circular Quay for night-time photos of the illuminated Opera House (Photo 90 - Opera House after dark) with the lights of Circular Quay and the Central Business District tower blocks beyond (see right).

We caught a bus from Circular Quay along George Street and were back at the Big Hostel by 9-30pm. Big Hostel had proved to be a good choice, excellently located for public transport, especially being so close to Central Station with our packs. Back at the hostel, despite our weariness after another long day, Paul wrote up today's log while Sheila read up on the area in the southern suburbs of the city around Bondi and Coogee Beaches for tomorrow. The area's coastal walking potential had been recommended, but from the map it seemed very built up and not particularly attractive. We should find out tomorrow when we investigate the world-renowned surfing beach at Bondi in Sydney's SW suburbs.

Public transport to Bondi Beach:  day sacs were packed and we were away by 9-30am for today's venture by public transport out to Bondi Beach. To save time, we caught a regular bus as close as we could to Circular Quay given today's road closures due to a city Triathlon event, the poster for which we had seen yesterday. As we approached the city, the bus passed crowds of runners apparently going in opposite directions; perhaps Aussie rules were different! Our bus turned off before Circular Quay and we walked the final couple of blocks. At the kiosk, we bought tickets for the bus to Bondi Beach, which seemed unaffected by the Triathlon road closures. The 10-20 bus arrived and we boarded for the hour's journey. But by the time the bus reached Elizabeth Street, we hit the traffic grid-lock, presumably caused by road closures. For the next hour, the bus moved forward just 100m; we were getting nowhere, and neither were any of the other solid masses of city traffic. The grid-lock stretched away into the distance as far as the eye could see; solid lines of cars and buses all totally immobile. At this rate we should spend the day sat here unmoving. The driver suggested getting off and catching the Metro train from Martin Place underground station which we had just passed, for 3 stops out to Bondi Junction, and then catch the bus out to the beach. The Metro station was deserted: perhaps the entire population of Sydney was trapped in their cars in the unmoving grid-lock in the streets above. The ticket lady said we could use our bus tickets on the Metro, but the automated gates thought differently and refused us passage. An inspector also insisted NO, but still allowed us through, and we caught the next train. 10 minutes later we reached Bondi Junction, but would all the buses still be trapped in the city grid-lock? We joined the queue for the Bondi Beach bus, and to our relief a bus came along in a few minutes. The bus wound through the suburbs and 10 minutes later emerged at a vista of the sweeping cove of a silver sand beach backed by the town. It was just after 12-00 noon, and we had managed to extricate ourselves from the city grid-lock to reach our objective, Bondi Beach.

Coastal path from Bondi to Coogee Beach:  to our amazement, despite being a sunny Sunday, Bondi beach filling the circular bay was surprisingly quiet, and not swarming with all the crowds we had expected. Even more surprisingly however, the surf seemed disappointingly calm, not at all as spectacular as Bondi Beach's reputation as the surfing capital of the universe implied (Photo 91 - Bondi Beach) (see above right and left). The only surfers in evidence was a small group of learners. We took our photos looking out over the beach, then bought a take-away burger lunch from a café across the road, eating them sat on a bench overlooking the beach. Having cleaned up from the sticky mess of our burger lunch, we set off to walk south around the coastal path heading down towards Coogee. This had been recommended, but we had some reservations due to the distance and its passing through largely built-up areas. But from the high point of Mackenzies Point, a spectacular panoramic view opened up, looking back north around the sweep of Bondi Bay (see above right). The air was warm and heavy with none of the expected breeze off the sea, and an uncertain sky. The path continued above weathered sandstone rocks and outcrops, around past Tamarara Point to the deep bay of Tamarara Cove (Photo 92 - Tamarara Cove) (see above left), a beautiful small strand again remarkably quiet with families sunbathing or playing ball on the beach, and just a few surfers at the nearer end. The whole atmosphere was one of an old-fashioned seaside town, with none of the attractions which might sully the peace of the place.

We continued around the headland leading to Bronte Beach (Photo 93 - Bronte Beach) (see left and above right), again quiet and unsullied with an old-fashioned air, and even a miniature railway pulled by an Australian diesel engine for children's rides. There was none of the expected over-commercialisation and brashness to spoil the 1960s air of a charming little seaside spot. At Bronte, we passed a bus stop with timetable for buses back to both Bondi Junction and Circular Quay. This was clearly the halfway point of the total walk to Coogee, and the 2.5kms distance had taken less than 1.5 hours. We decided to press on and complete the walk as far as Coogee and catch the bus back from there. Rising up from the bay, the road cut through a sandstone headland with the path now turning back to the coast on a wooden platform walk-way above the natural rocks (Photo 94 - Coastal path) (see right). This soon reached the cliff-top Waverley Cemetery which covered a huge area, with the path-way curving around the seaward side. At the far end, the coastal path picked a way around the cliff-top giving increasingly spectacular views both of the surf pounding the foot of the cliffs and of the ominously threatening sky out over the sea (Photo 95 - Surf and sky) (see left). The afternoon, which had begun bright at Bondi, had gradually become more overcast, and off-shore in the distance out into the Pacific Ocean we could see an evident squally storm heading northwards towards us. It was just possible the squall would pass us by as we rounded the headland of Shark Point, but Coogee ahead was clearly becoming enveloped in misty rain. A chill wind suddenly blew up, indicating that contrary to expectations the rain storm was about to hit us. We had completed around 4 kms of the 5 kms distance to Coogee; but to continue would inevitably mean a soaking, since we had only brought light weight cagoules. We quickly donned these and took shelter back at a bus stop. A bus was approaching, and with the storm now blowing driving rain from the seaward direction and the route ahead looking totally urbanised and enveloped in misty greyness, we decided to cut our losses and catch the bus back to Bondi Junction. We had covered the more interesting part of the walk along the open, rural sections of the cliff-top coastal path, passing through delightful little seaside resorts.

Sydney traffic and Monorail in pouring rain:  inside the QVB at the foot of the grand central staircase, we learned from the concierge more of the building's history and its restoration; we were also told about the animated clock which, at the chiming of the hour, would present its display of British monarchs. In the meantime, we walked through to the northern exit onto Market Street where the rain was lashing even harder. Towering above us between the office blocks, the GPO telephone tower loomed like an infernal monster above the city. Shoppers scuttled by clutching umbrellas in the pouring rain, and reflected headlights of city traffic gleaming on wet streets (Photo 97 - Wet streets) (see below right) made for some urban photography with a difference. Sydney's monorail, which  circles between Darling Harbour and the City, passed by high above the traffic in Market Street (see below left) (Photo 98 - Sydney Monorail), adding further interest to our photographs.

Queen Victoria Building animated clock:  just before 5-00pm, we climbed to level 2 of the QVB opposite the world's largest hanging clock (Photo 99 - QVB Hanging clock), to witness its animated display of English monarchs as the clock chimed the hour. To the accompaniment of Jeremiah Clarke's Trumpet Voluntary, animated tableaux of the Viking King Cnut, Saxon King Harold's defeat by William the Norman Conqueror at Hastings, King John signing Magna Carta at Runnymede in the presence of the rebellious barons, Henry VIII surrounded by his six animated wives, Elizabeth knighting Raleigh on the deck of his ship, and Charles I being beheaded after the Civil War, all appeared before us within the illuminated interior of the clock's upper turret (Photo 100 - Animated regal display) (see below right).

Supper at Sydney's Chinatown, and final night at Big Hostel:  with the rain now just about beginning to ease, we decided to catch the Metro back to Central Station, return to our hostel to drop off kit, and pick up more rain gear for the evening; we should then decide where to go for supper. By the time we emerged from Central Station, the rain storm had passed, for us to walk back to the Big Hostel. Having taken a break, we set off again to nearby China Town. Big Hostel was indeed ideally located for us: it was only a couple of blocks across to George Street with China Town just beyond. The hostel receptionist had suggested a pub on the corner of George Street: Paddy Maguires pub was brash and loud, but served James Squire's Amber among its vast range of beers, and we sat for a schooner or 3 before walking over to China Town to find restaurants recommended by Lonely Planet. Dixon Street, the main pedestrianised centre of China Town, was over-commercialised with girls enticing the tourists into restaurants; it was all very tawdry and lurid, but all the same entertaining. Unable to locate the recommended Super Bowl restaurant, across in Thomas Street we found Lonely Planet's other choice, Emperor's Garden BBQ and Noodles, an altogether less brash establishment with roasted chickens hanging in the windows. The owner welcomed us and we ordered a vast supper from the tempting menu to celebrate our final evening in Sydney: Won Ton soup and edible pan-fried soft-shelled crabs, a bowl of delicious egg and ginger rice, king prawns, and egg and chicken in a BBQ sauce, all washed down with Jasmine tea. Both the soup and crabs were unbelievably delicious, and the main meal courses were hugely generous. Sheila nobly used chop sticks, but Paul was hungry and tucked in with spoon and fork. It was a truly magnificent feast, but there was no means we could finish it all. The owner chatted as he passed our table: he was from Hong Kong and had kept restaurants in Amsterdam, London, and now in Sydney. We felt guiltily greedy in ordering such a large meal and then being unable to finish it, and of course the bill came to a tidy sum! But we had enjoyed it enormously, and it was a suitably memorable conclusion to such a successful week in and around Sydney. Sydney, like Hong Kong, felt perfectly safe, walking back late in the evening, even in a less obviously tourist area such as this. The rain had by now stopped, and back at the hostel we settled in for our final night at the Big Hostel.

In the next episode, we move on to Adelaide to explore the South Australian capital city and surrounding area; join us again shortly for the next stage of our antipodean adventures.

Next edition from Adelaide, South Australia to be published quite soon

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