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A soggy walk in the Blue Mountains

A splash of red in a foggy monotone, Echo Point.

In October, I went to the Blue Mountains (west of Sydney) for the weekend. My plan was to see the various gardens in the Leura Garden Festival on the Sunday, and get in a walk on the Saturday. I’ve been to this region a number of times, but always in summer, so this exposure to spring was quite an eye-opener. The temperature struggled to get over 10deg C (50deg F) and for most of Saturday it rained. But I had my waterproof boots, a showerproof jacket and an umbrella, so was determined to have my walk. I decided on the section of the Prince Henry Cliff Walk from Echo Point to where the path brushes against Merriwa Street in Katoomba, at which point I would walk back to my hotel. In all, about 4km. After laughing at the people admiring the view of the fog, I headed off.

This first path section is wheelchair and stroller accessible, and is usually teeming with visitors.

Here’s the real path. Jump the puddles, or go around?

This way to Lady Carrington lookout.

The view from Lady Carrington lookout.

No, the skies did not miraculously clear! I just wanted to show you the view from Lady Carrington lookout in good weather.

Looking back to the lookout through the fog.

Raindrops keep falling on my head — and on everything else!

There were many more photo opportunities of rain and mist and fog and puddles, and some quite impressively gushing waterfalls, but keeping the camera dry and shooting one handed (holding the umbrella with the other) was just too difficult. On the entire walk, I encountered only two other people, a couple, and they looked bedraggled and unhappy. By the time I reached Katoomba town centre, I was cold and wet, and well deserved the trio of hot chocolate.

Posted as part of Jo’s Monday Walks.


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The Walk to Work

No, this is not where I live! But I do pass this grand Victorian residence, protecting its privacy behind exuberant growth, and try to imagine a life that includes living in something like that.

In August I moved from ocean-side Bondi Beach to harbour-side Double Bay (both Sydney suburbs), which has brought me closer to where I work — so close (4km) that I can walk it in 55 minutes, door to door.

These magnificent jacarandas dominate this curve in the road.

It’s a very up and down route, and Google Maps has a nifty feature that shows just how much.

Up and down and up and down …

This church (St Mark’s, built 1848 to 1880) sits at the highest spot on the map above, just after “home”. With no tall buildings, there must have been vast views when it was built — but on the other hand, there wasn’t much to look at in 1880s’ Sydney!

I always pause here and marvel that so many people have this view. The horizon looks murky due to smoke from bush fires.

Time to head down from the lofty heights of the church to almost sea level. This road is, fittingly, called Loftus Road. I first encountered it walking home from work so had to slog UP it — after that, I changed the route home. 😉

Down, down, down. Hard on the knees.

Not only jacarandas are in bloom now — so is jasmine, and it’s everywhere. The scent hangs on the air.

Of course, there’s more to life than jasmine!

Red bougainvillea against a white wall.

At the bottom of the “hill from hell” sits Rushcutters Bay and the Cruising Yacht Club of Australia. The CYC was established in 1944 and hosts the annual Sydney to Hobart yacht race that begins on Boxing Day (26 December).

This is the expansive park beside Rushcutters Bay. At this time of the day, it’s full of joggers, walkers, exercise groups, and dogs (though it looks empty in this shot!). See that tower (like a yellow blob on a stick) on the horizon? That’s two blocks from my destination.

A lovely cafe, but no time to stop. (Sorry Jo, no cake on this walk!)

The Beast of Bodmin Moor? The Hound of the Baskervilles? No, just an elderly Newfoundland dog with his summer haircut. I see him most days.

Anyone for cricket?

I almost didn’t include this photo, as it’s hardly attractive. But it’s part of the walk, and the start of the long uphill stretch to King’s Cross.

Still heading up, but beside a more attractive street. This area is King’s Cross.

This pavement sign is hard to read even when you’re standing beside it. The whole text says “August 1929 Kellett St | Riot | Sly Grog Traders | Kate Leigh vs Tilly Devine | Rival Gangs in Violent Stoush | Razors Guns Bottles Stones | Wounded Do Not Identify Attackers to Police”. (Read about these two fascinating (if scary!) women.)

King’s Cross is gentrifying these days, but it still has its areas of sleaze, crime and violence.

The heart of “The Cross”.

I don’t like this alley (I usually have to flatten myself against the wall as cars go past) but it’s convenient.

I don’t know if this street is officially in King’s Cross or Woolloomooloo, but its character is very different to the streets where the walk starts and ends.

Now we’re definitely in Woolloomooloo — the signs say so! Originally home to dock workers, the area still has an air of non-prosperity despite being only 1.5km from the Sydney Central Business District.

More of those jacarandas. I can’t help smiling at such shameless flamboyance as I walk under the gentle drift of petals. And there’s that tower again …

You can see more photos of the jacarandas of Woolloomooloo here.

Yet more jasmine!

If you’ve read any of my other walk posts, you’ll know I hate stairs. However, this being the city not the bush, there’s a lift here too. 🙂 The stairs/lift take you up to a walkway over six lanes of busy commuter traffic.

The tower is visible again, closer now! And that’s the train I catch when I don’t walk. From the angle of the colourful wall, you can tell I’m going up, again.

Past the art gallery.

Another appealing cafe to march straight past.

This is The Domain, where you could graze your animals back when that was a thing.

Through the grounds of Sydney Hospital and Sydney Eye Hospital.

Stepping through the gates beside the hospital, you leave the world of the suburbs behind.

At the top of Martin Place. It’s all downhill from here!

I often top up my travel card and buy my (losing) lottery tickets at this little kiosk.

Past the cenotaph.

Trams are running on George St — at last! Still in ‘testing’, but at least the years of wretched construction are over. This tram is just about in front of my office building.

Last glimpse of that tower, from in front of my building.

And here’s the end of the walk, in the lobby of my building.

I hope you managed with all these photos! It’s a varied walk and I wanted to capture the different areas along the way.

Posted as part of Jo’s Monday Walks.


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Stratford Walk 2: history and houses

Like my Stratford Walk 1: the lake, this walk begins at the County Court House. It was built in the Queen Anne Revival style in the late 1880s. The same architect was responsible for the nearby Stratford Jail — or Gaol, as it appears on the building itself.

Still serving its original purpose as a jail.

Between the court house and river lie the Shakespearean Gardens (I posted about them here). The gardens are dominated by the chimney of a mill destroyed by fire in 1910; the ornate chimney top is a giant bird house with 24 dwellings (“des res” indeed!). In the background is the spire of St Joseph’s church across the river.

St Joseph’s church and Dufton Mill chimney.

Still on the theme of tall pointy buildings, this is the City Hall peeking above the trees. Doesn’t it just radiate civic pride?

This is Stratford’s second City Hall, built in 1900. The first ws destroyed by fire.

The street in front of the court house and gardens leads to the Huron Street bridge (the feature image at top), which is the only double-arched aqueduct road bridge in North America still used for vehicle traffic. It gives a good view west along the river to part of the Shakespearean Gardens and an island linked with a bridge.

Turn west once you’ve crossed the bridge and meander along the bank for a different view of the Gardens.

Shakespearean Gardens

Farther along the river, a rail bridge appears between trees. “CN” stands for Canadian National [Railways].

“CN” is easier to see in the reflection.

Turn around and come back east, passing the stone bridge. From the river bank you can see the island bridge framed by an arch of the stone bridge.

Wander a bit farther and you’ll come to this white pergola at the west end of Lake Victoria (the lake was created by damming the river). The first pergola on this site was built in the early 1930s, and was swept away in 1937 when the Avon and Thames Rivers flooded. I think this one was built as recently as 2010.

Just past the pergola you can glimpse a sign telling you the lake path is “unavailable” at this point.

You are not welcome beyond this point.

Near the pergola is this plaque detailing the history of the city.

Much younger than its namesake in England, but with a solid Canadian history.

Time to cross the river again, past the court house and down the residential streets. It may seem strange to find a railway running behind the houses, but as you read in the founding plaque, the railways played an important part in Stratford’s economy and growth. They are less prominent now but you can still hear the long echoing note of an engine’s horn as the trains wind their ways past houses and across streets. I always get the train between Toronto and Stratford.

You’d never know this was the middle of a city of 30,000 people.

I have always loved old houses. To me, they have so much more character and charm than modern buildings. The notable houses in streets to the southwest of the court house were built in the second half of the 1800s, in a range of styles such as Queen Anne, Italianate, Gothic — even Ontario and something called Neo‐Classical Salt Box House. I followed two self-guided walks downloaded from the city’s tourism website (the source of my descriptions), and stood in front of houses trying to spot details such as “bay window with a neo‐classical pediment on the porch” and “stained glass transom window and sandstone lintels”, bargeboards and corbels and pilasters. Many of these beautiful houses are designated Heritage Homes.

Verandahs are a common feature, and these ones all look like lovely spots to while away an hour or two.


Doors and gateways offer glimpses of hidden gardens.

Statues are popular.

The sad-looking building below is known locally as the White House. In my younger years it was rundown and faded yet nonetheless retained traces of its former glory. Then a few years ago when I visited I was amazed to find it restored and gorgeous, operating as possibly a B&B. According to the walk notes, “Built in 1866 as a Regency Cottage; the second storey was added, as was the large portico, by the Walsh family. It remained in the family for several generations and was recently restored.” The text must date from the few years the building enjoyed its restoration, because it looks pretty grim right now.

A beautiful building in desperate need of love.

This Gothic triple‐gabled house (now a duplex) is clearly loved and well cared for. It dates to 1867.

And finally, an 1892 Queen Anne building made in buff brick.

No ice cream to finish off this walk, I’m afraid!

For more walks from all around the world, head to Jo’s Monday Walks.


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Stratford Walk 1: the lake

Perth County Court House in Stratford

The walk begins at the Perth County Court House in Stratford

Are you confused? Do these photos look nothing like the Stratford you know, that lovely medieval English market town that gave the world William Shakespeare? That’s because this Stratford — and this Avon River — are in Canada, 130 km (80 miles) west of Toronto. And it also has a strong Shakespeare connection, which we’ll get to.

From the court house, the path around the lake is about 5km. I like to do this walk when I visit Stratford. My maternal grandparents moved to the town in the 1970s, and my parents in the 1990s, so I’ve made quite a few visits since I was a teenager.

This is a pretty, leafy, landscaped walk with not a hill in sight.

If you don’t fancy walking, there are watery alternatives.

Art in the Park has been a feature for years.

Amusing garbage cans, though I’m confused by the bee theme.

This lovely bridge has been the spot for many, many photos over the years.

Approaching the bridge

Looking back at the bridge

Here is the Shakespeare connection I mentioned. In the early 1950s, Stratford local Tom Patterson drove the establishment of a theatre festival dedicated to the works of William Shakespeare. On July 13, 1953, English actor Alec Guinness spoke the first lines of the first play produced by the festival, a production of Richard III: “Now is the winter of our discontent / Made glorious summer by this son of York.” For the first four seasons, performances took place in a concrete amphitheatre covered by a giant canvas tent on the banks of the River Avon. The permanent theatre that followed (photo below) deliberately echoed the look of a tent. (source)

The Festival Theatre

The festival now runs from April to October and in addition to Shakespeare it presents a variety of theatre including musicals and contemporary drama, in four theatres. (My mother and I saw “The Music Man” in August last year, when I took these photos.) Famous actors who appeared at Stratford include Maggie Smith (1976 to 1980) and William Shatner (seasons 2, 3 and 4). (This short interview with Shatner has some interesting photos of the festival’s early days).

This statue of Shakespeare is in the garden behind the theatre.

Back to the path now. Near the theatre is where you’ll find the largest numbers of swans and geese. They definitely have right of way.

At the east end of the lake you can look back to see the spire of the court house over the trees.

Time to cross over and head back on the other side. There are some inviting spots here for just sitting and watching the world or having a picnic.

This is the path opposite the theatre.

William Hutt was described as “Canada’s great classical actor” when he died in 2007. I remember seeing him as Falstaff in the Merry Wives of Windsor, 40 years ago. (I can’t believe I’m old enough to say that, but according to a review in the NY Times it was indeed 1978.) That’s more of the court house peeping over the trees, and you can see a number of bright orange pedalos on the lake by the shore (something else I remember from 40 years ago!).

At this point, you must walk across the bridge because the path that continues around the west end of the lake has been closed.

Here you can see why it’s “unavailable”: rich people not wanting riff raff walking in front of their houses. I certainly remember walking there in the past. Time for some “reclaim the ancient rights of way!” agitation by the people, I think!

I know Jo likes cake at the end of her walks, but as much as I like cake I do gravitate towards ice cream after a walk. 😉

Stratford Walk 2: history and houses” is now live.

For more walks from all around the world, head to Jo’s Monday Walks.


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La Perouse Headland Walk

This walk in the area around La Perouse (a southern suburb of Sydney) starts in the Botany Bay National Park. (If you’ve ever flown in or out of Sydney, you’ll know Botany Bay — it’s the large body of water that the runways jut into.) The walk is only about 5km long, and not difficult. I think you could call it a stroll, in fact. It begins in typical forest in the national park.

According to the signpost, I’m headed in the right direction for Henry Head and Cape Banks. That’s reassuring. 🙂

On track

At Henry Head there is an old artillery battery. “Constructed between 1892 and 1895 with two BL 6-inch Mk V disappearing guns, the fort operated until 1910, when it became obsolete. The battery along with two 6-in gun emplacements and observation posts was re-utilised during World War II to defend the approaches to Botany Bay. During WWII, it was armed with two 18-pounder Mk IV field guns and two QF 3-pounder Hotchkiss guns. The underground bunker and tunnel complex consisted of vaulted ammunition storage rooms with double walls and ceilings. The doubling up of walls and ceilings was a preventative measure meant to stop the walls from collapsing in the event of a direct hit.” (source)

Covered with graffiti now (of course) they still reveal how strategic their position was, covering the entrance to Botany Bay.

There were hundreds of birds, huge flocks of them darting swiftly in the sky and keeping up a constant chorus of tweets and chirps. In the first photo, the black-and-white bird at bottom right is a New Holland Honeyeater. The other bird, a sort of brown with striking yellow, I’d never seen before, which surprised me given their sheer numbers here.

Is a bird in hand really worth two in a bush?

An online search revealed that the mystery bird might be a Yellow-faced Honeyeater. Here’s another one, with a definite yellow face.

Yellow-faced Honeyeater?

Lunch with a view!

Water, orange, egg sandwich — and a view.

Henry Head was as far as I’d intended to go, as I wanted to visit the La Perouse Museum and I knew it closed at 4pm. But sitting here having my lunch, I thought how enticing that path snaking out towards the far cape was … so off I went.

Who could resist?

Follow the path.

I know we’re not “doing” benches any more, but I had to snap this one. It’s made of the same heavy metal mesh as the walkway! (And is not especially comfortable.)

No place to linger.

If you’ve read my previous walks, you’ll know I’m not a fan of stairs. However, I hate sand even more. Especially going uphill in sand.

Sandy path, uphill.

And now for something completely different! You round a corner and suddenly there’s a golf course.

She is NOT a walker.

This is hole 6 (par 3) of the New South Wales Golf Course, officially opened in 1928. According to its website, “Golf Digest currently ranks the NSW Golf Club as the No. 9 golf course outside the United States and the No.1 golf course outside the United States and the UK.” Click this photo to see a larger version of hole 6 with the tees marked — the men’s, the ladies’, and what I’ve dubbed the maniacs’ tee.

Hole 6, NSW Golf Club.

This is the same hole, looking at the flag (circled) from the maniacs’ tee. They must lose an awful lot of balls in the sea here!

You’d better have a spare ball or three for this hole.

Sound advice on this sign, especially given that the golfer is in mid-swing.

Fore!

This footbridge (you can just make it out in the first photo of the sixth hole, and more clearly in the larger photo) leads to Cape Banks, presumably named after (Sir) Joseph Banks, the botanist/naturalist on Captain James Cook’s voyage of 1768-1771. They landed at Botany Bay on 29 April 1770; Cook writes that he named it so due to “The great quantity of plants Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander found in this place”. (source)

Footbridge to Cape Banks.

No more time for dawdling, that 4pm museum closing time was looming, so I hot-footed back along the trail. I paused at Congwong beach to take a photo looking back at where I’d been. The circled white dot on the headland is the white tower visible in the gun emplacements photos farther up this page.

Looking back.

I know what you’re thinking. What is this “La Perouse” I keep referring to?? Why would anywhere in Australia have a French name? The area is named after Jean-François de Galaup, comte [count] de Lapérouse, who commanded a convoy of two French ships that sailed into Botany Bay in January 1788, only days after the English First Fleet had arrived to establish the penal colony that became Sydney. After leaving Botany Bay six weeks later, La Perouse and his ships were never seen again. (What happened to the French ships? In 1826 evidence was found indicating they foundered on reefs in the Solomon Islands. Some survivors were killed by local inhabitants; some built a ship from the wreckage and sailed away, but their fate is unknown.) (source)

This monument was erected in the area where the French camped. It’s the focal point for gatherings by French expats on Bastille Day.

And here’s the museum! It features displays and artefacts about the area and the early visits from the French and English visits, heavily weighted towards the La Perouse expedition naturally. The museum is housed in the historic Cable Station building, completed in 1882. When telegraph operations transferred elsewhere in 1913, the building was subsequently used for telegraph company staff accommodation quarters, a nurses’ home, soldier accommodation, and a Salvation Army Refuge.

La Perouse museum

This improbable looking construction is the Macquarie Watchtower, also known as the Barrack Tower, built around 1821. Originally a military station, it later became a customs post and housed a schoolroom. It subsequently fell into disrepair, was mostly destroyed by fire in 1957 and restored from 1961.

Watchtower

No luscious ice cream to finish off this walk, I’m afraid. Maybe next time!

For more walks from all around the world, head to Jo’s Monday Walks.


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Spit Bridge to Manly Wharf Walk

Walk map — click for a larger image.

Known simply as “The Spit to Manly”, this is one of Sydney’s best known and most popular walks. About 10km long, it weaves along the edge of the harbour, through national park and residential areas. There are stunning views and beaches in plenty, with quite a variety of terrain. “3.6km of this walk is flat with no steps and another 3km has short steep hills. The remaining (2.6km) has gentle hills with occasional steps.” (source)

The Spit Bridge, where this walk starts, opens at set times throughout the day to let boats pass. You can just make out a sailboat passing through (more visible on the full image). I’d like to say that I timed my walk to take this photo for you, but in truth it was luck. 😉

After the bridge, you soon reach the bottom of this small inlet. It’s clear that the tide is well out, which is a good thing as you’ll learn later.

Small cove, tide out.

Dappled shade on the path and a bridge over a stream.

A shady path through the woods.

Here be dragons — Eastern Water Dragons, to be precise.

He’s a handsome devil, and knows it!

It would be extremely unusual to do this walk and not encounter a number of these reptiles sunning themselves on the path. Generally, though, you only notice them in the heart-lurching moment when a streak of movement at your feet is followed by a crashing and a rustling in the undergrowth as it dashes for safety.

 

In addition to dragons, there are lots of flowers to be seen along the paths.

This is Clontarf Beach and Reserve. On the weekend it’s standing room only, full of large groups with blankets and picnics. I did the walk on this occasion on the Thursday before Good Friday (29 March), so beaches and the walk itself were quite empty.

What sort of crazy person attacks trees? All the trees in the reserve have these wooden girdles to protect them.

Anti-tree-vandal measures at Clontarf.

Time for some beach walking! If you have a towel, or the time to relax while the sun dries your feet, this is a great stretch for splashing along in the water.

Fancy a paddle?

Remember I said earlier that it’s a good thing the tide is out? Look at the dark strip along the bottom of the stone walls in front of these houses — that’s where the water reaches. That’s more than a mere paddle.

More than your feet would get wet here!

No, I haven’t snuck in a photo from a walk in England! We’ve had quite a bit of rain recently, so there were a few wet patches.

It rains in Sydney too. Quite a bit, actually.

There are many plaques describing various plants along the way.

Typical steps carved into the rocks.

Your own private beach.

A lovely stretch of Sydney harbour all to yourself.

The entry to the national park section of the walk. Some years ago, a friend from England came to visit and we did this walk — or tried to! We got as far as this point. The national park segment was closed due to high fire danger. We considered risking it, but didn’t fancy being fined by a lurking park ranger!

Park entrance.

Up, and up …

It would be hard to get lost!

Which way now?

Still up. Many of the light-coloured stone stairs you’ll see in these photos were recently (in the past 8 years?) installed. The parks service undertook substantial work to reduce erosion and damage due to the thousands of walkers. You’ll notice too that we’re no longer in forest. It’s much more open up on the ridgeline.

Up. Always up.

And this is what all the climbing was for! The walk has taken us from sea level to 88m (288ft). That’s South Head across the harbour, then the next land is Chile on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.

The harbour, South Head, the ocean.

Woo hoo, it’s the beginning of the boardwalk! (This is also recent.) The boardwalk means one thing: the lunch stop is not far.

Along the boardwalk.

Ta da, the lunch stop! It’s just a rock outcrop a few metres off the path. It was much more hidden when I first started coming here (around 2000), but fire or some other event has thinned out the trees. After all that climbing, the shade and the sea breeze are very welcome.

My lunch rock.

Lunch! Sandwich, plum, water. The Aussie term “Tasty Cheese” (on the sandwich label) always cracks me up. It’s similar to a medium cheddar and, yes, is tasty, but what a name! And what a view! Did you notice the gorgeous colour of the water in the cove below? Opposite is North Head, and just to its left is the former Quarantine Station where immigrants were forced to spend some time upon arrival so that medical staff could check their condition. Today, predictably, it’s an expensive hotel called Q Station.

A “tasty” lunch.

Back on the path, and past the halfway mark now.

On the way to Manly, more than halfway.

Now here is something I had never seen on this walk. A wallaby! I rounded a corner and there it was, practically in the middle of the path. It stared at me, I stared at it, and I said, “Whoa! A kangaroo!” Perhaps insulted at being mistaken for a kangaroo, the wallaby hopped into the bush. It didn’t go far though, and soon settled down to nibbling at shrubs.

I always think of this spot as the beginning of the end. There are still kilometres to go, but soon we’ll be out of the bush and onto the streets, and this is the last great view. It’s all (almost) downhill or level from here. This panorama is two photos merged in Photoshop. (Click for a much larger shot.) To right of centre you can see the broad path to follow. Opposite is North Head and the old quarantine site, then around to the left is Manly and the ferry wharf, my destination.

A panoramic view. (Click for a much larger shot.)

This sign has been here at least as long as I’ve been doing this walk (since 2000). When, I wonder, will the area officially be regenerated?

How long does regeneration take?

Reef Beach, a lovely spot for a swim. And I have never seen it deserted! Unfortunately, because doing this walk was a spur-of-the-moment decision, I wasn’t at home to pack swimsuit and towel. So I had to gaze at the water longingly and walk past.

So inviting …

The approach to 40 Baskets Beach is another impassable area at high tide. The name “40 Baskets” derives from a time in 1885 when fisherman caught — you’ve guessed it — 40 baskets of fish in the area.

Lots of rockpools to peer into.

You don’t see these flowers in the national park! This is bouganvillea and tibuchina in a garden.

Hot cerise bougainvillea and deep purple tibouchina.

This commemorative plaque is hidden in a rock, in the shade, at the foot of stairs (more bloody stairs!), and is easily overlooked.

Commemorative plaque.

A very pleasant section now of strolling along a meandering paved path, with towering and expensive homes to the left, and the harbour to the right. One of the homes is for sale — how much would you pay for that view?

The killer view.

Another nice place to swim, which today is both unusually calm and unusually deserted. No swimsuit, though, so on we go …

Still inviting …

There is, apparently, a thriving colony of Little Penguins in this area. I’ve never seen one, but then again I’d never seen a wallaby on the walk until today.

Watch out, penguins about.

The end is nigh! The large yellow-and-green ship is the Manly-Circular Quay ferry. I’m getting a much smaller boat though, to take me across the harbour to Watson’s Bay, from where I’ll get a bus to Bondi Beach and home.

The end of the walk.

Made it, with only 10 minutes to spare. I’d planned to enjoy a well-deserved icy cold beverage at this bar while waiting for the ferry (that’s what the small crowd of people at the end of the wharf is doing) but all this photography took longer than I’d planned.

My ferry wharf.

At Watson’s Bay, there was just enough time before the bus arrived for a quick lime and coconut ice cream. Very refreshing!

Lime and coconut ice cream.

For more walks from all around the world, head to Jo’s Monday Walks.


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Jacarandas of Woolloomooloo

Jacarandas in Woolloomooloo

Jacarandas in Woolloomooloo

Jacarandas in Woolloomooloo

Jacarandas in Woolloomooloo, with two iconic Sydney buildings in the distance.

It’s that time again in Sydney when the jacaranda trees are in bloom. One argument holds that the first specimen in Australia was planted in 1864 (source) — not in Sydney, but they have since been planted here with enthusiasm.

A carpet of fallen jacaranda petals.

A carpet of fallen jacaranda petals.

My journey to work includes a short train ride from Bondi Junction to Martin Place. Just after the train leaves King’s Cross, you can see dots of purple off to the left — but look right, and you are treated to large pockets of intense purple. Last weekend, I took the train to King’s Cross and had a good wander around this area, known as Woolloomooloo (pronounced by Aussies as “Wullamulloo”). It’s a small suburb that originally grew up around a wharf (Finger Wharf) that juts into the harbour.

In this screengrab from Google Maps (satellite view), Finger Wharf is clear. I’ve outlined in yellow the rough borders of Woolloomooloo.

These next photos give a flavour of the types of original housing: rows of small, cramped accommodation for workers and their families (with and without jacarandas!). Walking around the area, you can see that many of the houses have been smartened up, but many still look, shall we say, less smart. It’s an interesting mix.

 

In this shot, you can see the corrugated metal roof of the building behind the flowers.

Jacaranda and corrugated metal roof.

Jacaranda and corrugated metal roof.

The dock work is long gone. The wharf itself (400m/1,310ft long and 63m/210ft wide, standing on 3,600 piles) now houses an upmarket hotel, luxury apartments and assorted eateries. Built between 1911 and 1915, in its day it was the largest wooden structure in the world. (source)

Interior of Finger Wharf. You can get a good idea of its size!

Let’s finish off with more of those flamboyant jacarandas.


Jacarandas and roses.

Jacarandas and roses.

I’m linking this to Jo’s Monday Walks, but I think she’s still in the Algarve as her site hasn’t been updated in a while.


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