Taste of the Top End

Every now and then it's good to do something a little bit crazy! Neither Joel nor I had ever been to the Northern Territory before, so the Queen's birthday weekend seemed like a perfect opportunity. Granted, three days is not very long to explore such a vast region, but we felt like escaping from Brisbane for a while and catching up with old friends.

We flew to Darwin after work on Friday, and even arriving at midnight we were immediately hit with the heat and humidity of the tropics. According to the locals midwinter is mild and pleasant, not even remotely comparable to the oppressiveness of the build-up to the wet season. But we were caught by surprise nonetheless...

Saturday was spent exploring Darwin itself. Firstly the wonderful colours and smells of Parap village markets. With such a strong South-East Asian influence, there were loads of yummy food stalls to choose from, and we devoured delicious bowls of laksa for breakfast, followed by freshly squeezed tropical fruit juice and pancakes.

Our day continued with visits to the museum, art galleries and WWII bunkers, lunch at the sailing club, and an evening of good food and somewhat bizarre entertainment at the Greek Glenti Festival - an annual event on the Esplanade.

On Sunday it was time to venture further afield, with friends who were kindly willing to show us around. We decided on a day trip to Litchfield National Park. Less than two hours from Darwin, this is a beautiful area of gorges, waterfalls and delightful swimming holes. It is also an extremely popular destination for tourists and locals alike, especially on a long weekend during the dry season. The park is serviced by sealed roads, and a clearly defined circuit of main attractions. However it soon became apparent that all we needed to do was walk a hundred metres or so off the beaten track to find equally pleasant waterholes that we could enjoy all to ourselves.

The heat brought on a distinct feeling of lethargy, which made it difficult for me to think beyond plopping into some cool water. We picnicked at Wangi Falls and lazed the afternoon away in the shade. It's inevitable that you experience a place differently when on holidays rather than caught up in the everyday routine of work, but I still think that living in the top end would necessitate a more relaxed pace of life.

Evenings are a beautiful time of day up here. On returning to Darwin we grabbed an esky and a few bottles of wine and headed down to Mindil Beach to watch the sunset. The geographic layout of Darwin is very confusing for newcomers. Despite being located on the northern coastline of Australia, the city itself is on a peninsular which is surrounded by water to the east, south and west. So along with hundreds of other spectators and holiday-makers, we were treated to the golden glow of the sun setting over the water. And when our drinks ran out, it was only a short walk up to the markets for a mouth-watering choice of dinner possibilites!

Despite being a public holiday, our friends were back to work on Monday. So Joel and I borrowed a car and headed down to the Adelaide River for a Spectacular Jumping Crocodile Cruise! There are many such tours on the Adelaide River, and although it is a hugely commercial operation with lots of hype for the overseas visitors, it was actually quite good fun.

Saltwater crocodiles became protected in the early 70's and now thrive in the river systems and waterways of Northern Australia. They are rarely seen by the casual observer because they spend most of their time hidden in the mud, but the crocs on this stretch of river know they can get an easy feed from the tour boats and seemed quite happy to perform for us. The power and speed with which they propelled themselves out of the water was quite incredible.

And so ends our visit to the Northern Territory. All too brief to really do it justice, but good to see a completely different part of Australia. We stopped at the Humpty Doo Hotel on our return to Darwin for a bit of an outback pub experience. The locals looked at us askance as we wandered in and ordered lemonades, and we quickly retreated from the dark and dingy interior to a table outside where barefoot kids played with a mangy looking dog. Maybe I'm just too accustomed to city living to appreciate the iconic nature of the Aussie pub and the colourful characters who inhabit them. But I'd certainly jump at the opportunity to return to the Territory for some more glimpses of it's stunning landscape and many hidden treasures.

Lord Howe Island

Lord Howe Island is a tiny speck in the Pacific Ocean, approximately 500km off the coast from Port Macquarie. The airstrip is exactly 1km long, and is positioned at a point where the island is exactly 1km wide. So there's very little margin for error! But we had a smooth landing, with views on our descent of the high mountains shrouded in cloud.

On arrival we were met by Neil and Val - owners of the small lodge Hideaway where we were booked for the week. They gave us a tour of the island, pointing our a few of the local attractions. It is a compact place, measuring no more than 11km from north to south, and only 3km at the widest point. However we soon discovered that for an island with only a few kilometres of sealed road, there are an extraordinary number of vehicles. We estimated at least 150 cars (perhaps more) and lots of motor scooters. Not so long ago, practically everyone got around by foot or by bicycle, but times are changing, even on Lord Howe.


We borrowed dodgy old bikes from our lodge owners. They were the most clapped out machines I'd seen for a long time. Joel had virtually no brakes, and I had virtually no gears - an unfortunate combination given that our apartment was at the top of a very steep hill! But we never had to go very far, so we managed to get around without too much trouble.

One of our first stops was Neds Beach. We grabbed our snorkelling gear and ran down to the water's edge. Fish more than a metre long were swarming in the shallows, only a few feet from the shore. It was an incredible sight to behold, and initially a bit intimidating. Especially when one of the locals called out that there was a shark in the water. The galapagos reef sharks are quite harmless though, so eventually we braved the cold water and jumped in. It was amazing!!

Even without venturing more than a few metres from the shore, we were surrounded by enormous kingfish, silver drummer, bluefish and the occasional spangled emperor. Locals and tourists have been feeding the fish here for decades. Combined with the fact that this bay is part of a marine sanctuary zone, it provides one of the best beachside snorkelling locations in Australia.


The next day we headed off to explore the northern part of the island. These hills are only small compared with the mountains at the southern end, however we were rewarded with stunning views over the whole island and the turquoise waters of the lagoon. Kim's Lookout is the highest point at just over 200m and is a rather spectacular location. We climbed up and over lots of hills and wandered along isolated beaches until our legs were tired and sore.

An early start on Thursday morning had us peddling our bikes down to Little Island for our much anticipated ascent of Mt Gower. The exact elevation seems somewhat disputed with maps differing wildly in their measurements, but it's in the vicinity of 875m above sea level. Walks to the summit are only allowed in the company of one of the island guides, so we booked ourselves on a trip with 5th generation islander Jack Schick.

The main industry on the island (aside form tourism) is the propagation and export of native Kentia palms. There are four species of palm which are endemic to Lord Howe, the most popular being the thatch palm, which is sold as an indoor plant in Europe. Palm seeds are harvested by hand, and Jack demonstrated how to climb a palm tree with the assistance of a short sling looped around his feet. I expected Joel would want to try his skill at palm climbing too, but he chickened out!

After the first short steep climb came an exposed traverse along the side of a sheer rock face at the base of the mountain. It wasn't as formidable as is commonly described, but it was quite exhilerating. We soaked up marvellous views over the lagoon and western side of the island.


We continued to plod upwards at an excrutiatingly slow pace. There were 13 walkers in our group, the eldest being a spritely woman of 76 who was as fit as a fiddle. One of the old blokes was finding it a major struggle, but despite all his huffing and puffing was determined to reach the top. He stumbled continuously and soon had cuts and grazes all over his arms and legs. By the time we neared the summit we were clambering over rocks flecked with blood from his numerous wounds. It was not a pretty sight, but he stubbornly refused to call it quits, and our guide didn't seem inclined to argue with him.

More than 60 per cent of the time Mt Gower is hidden in cloud, resulting in a delicate mist forest on the summit plateau. The air temperature dropped by several degrees as we entered this faerie world, where gnarled old trees are festooned with mosses and orchids, ferns and lichens.

Throughout the climb we were aware of seabirds circling high above the mountain. Lord Howe is an important breeding ground for many birds, including the Providence Petrel which nests nowhere else in the world. To our great surprise, Jack called these great birds, and they just plopped out of the sky to say hello. Seemingly fearless, they were quite happy to be picked up and held. I found it absolutely extraordinary, and it was a real highlight of the whole trip.

Shortly thereafter we reached our lunch spot overlooking Mt Lidgbird. Woodhens came and scavenged for crumbs amongst our packs. These beautiful brown flightless birds are endemic to Lord Howe and were perilously close to extinction back in the early 70's, with only 30 individual birds remaining. With the eradication of several of their introduced predators, the population has bounced back to around 280 birds, however they remain one of the rarest species in the world. We saw a total of 13 woodhens while on the island. It's amazing to think that this amounts to almost 5 per cent of the entire population!

Our return walk from Mt Gower was equally slow, but we were treated to stunning views all the way down. Although most days were quite windy during our stay, there was very little cloud hanging over the mountains, and only a few squally pockets of bad weather.


Interspersed among all these outdoor activities were lovely meals enjoyed at a collection of cafes and restaurants scattered around the island. We especially liked a friendly restaurant called Pandanus which served delicious local kingfish and offered sublime desserts. Fresh fish was the speciality at most of the eateries which was never a problem for two self-confessed seafood lovers.

Another highlight was a short boat trip to the outer edge of the lagoon for some seriously good snorkelling. The 6km reef which forms the boundary of the lagoon is the most southern coral reef in the world. Our skipper took us to four different locations in his glass-bottomed boat and we were spellbound by the variety and beauty of the coral gardens and colourful marine life. If only the water had been a little warmer we would have stayed in for hours!

We loved beachcombing and had great fun finding shells and interesting bits of coral during our wanders. Joel was especially attracted to the rockpools and enjoyed photographing brightly coloured sea urchins and anemone, trapped in their miniature worlds.

Our last day on the island had a blustery beginning. We were really keen for one more snorkel, but it took three attempts before we finally braved the fresh southerly that was blowing across the lagoon. This time we chose Old Settlement Beach. There is a yellow marker about 100m out from the shore which indicates Sylph's Hole - a small marine sanctuary zone.

As we slowly swam towards the marker, all we could see were beds of seagrass covering the sandy bottom. But as our senses adjusted to this new environment we found evidence of life in the form of amazing ribbons of eggs laid by sea slugs and snails. Eventually the sea floor became deeper and more rocky, with lots of little nooks and crannies for beautiful wrasse and angelfish to hide. Suddenly we noticed movement out of the corner of our eyes. A giant sea turtle slowly rose from his resting place below us, and gracefully disappeared from view.

It was like receiving a blessing from this ancient creature of the sea, and it seemed a fitting end to our wonderful honeymoon.

Just married!

Our week of preparations before the wedding began with rain, rain and more rain. At first we laughed it off light-heartedly. The forecast looked promising for the end of the week, and besides, a bit of wet weather wasn't going to spoil the celebrations. But the rain continued relentlessly, and my parents' garden slowly disappeared under puddles of water. Every day brought another one or two inches in the gauge, and soon the ground became too soggy to negotiate. A hasty reminder was sent to friends to bring a brolly and leave their high heels at home!

As the offshore low deepened and our spirits dampened, we became caught in indecision about which of the various back-up plans required our attention. However amidst the doubt and worries of the Gifkins household there remained one stubborn character who was determined to see our vision carried through to reality. After eleven consecutive days of rain, and the wettest April in eighteen years, it seemed to the rest of us that Joel was driven largely by blind optimism. Surely the opportunity for a beautiful garden wedding had passed?

At 4am on Friday morning we were woken by an intense electrical storm that brought another heavy downpour. Joel went outside to survey the damage and found most of the marquee area submerged by a river of stormwater flowing past the back verandah. There was another 48mm in the gauge overnight, and it seemed that our plans had finally been foiled.

Lunchtime on Friday was decision time. We needed to start moving furniture and setting up the reception area for our 70 guests. But where was the reception to be? The early morning 'flood waters' had largely soaked away, so we tested out the marquee with a birthday morning tea for my cousin Heath who had just turned one. I'm sure Heath desperately wanted to play in the mud, but otherwise it had a surprisingly cosy feel. Convinced by Joel's enthusiasm and a still promising forecast for the following day, we decided to carry on as planned with lunch in the garden under the marquee.

Suddenly it was all hands on deck. Pam and Jenny were arranging flowers while Sam and Anna were decorating cakes. Sue was putting up signs and Kevin was carting around cases of beer. Pete was laying paths of hay and Darryl was cleaning the school verandah. Roger and Joel were moving tables and Jess was recording the moment. After a week of virtual inactivity I felt so bewildered by the sudden hustle and bustle that I could do no more than point people in various directions.

By the time we sat down for a combined family dinner of Stewarts and Gifkins I think we were all exhausted. It was too late to change our lunch venue though, so we would just have to wait and see what the new day would bring.....


And it was magnificent!

Saturday dawned clear and bright, and the sun quickly evaporated all our worries away. Joel cooked a big breakfast for everyone, then Mum, Jess and I disappeared for all our girly hair and make-up rituals. While getting dressed in the front room I could peak through a gap in the curtains and see our guests congregating. From a distance it was hard to recognise everyone in their fancy clothes and the nerves began to build. But as always Dad was a calming presence, and as we stepped out the front door together I felt a huge surge of excitement.


The love and energy that surrounded us during the whole ceremony was absolutely unforgettable. I was so thrilled and honoured to be amongst such amazing people and to share with them this special moment in our lives. It was a beautifully affirming and inspiring moment. Made perfect, of course, by the wonderful man standing beside me!


The cloud of bubbles that was sent into the brilliant morning sunshine contained a multitude of wishes for a life of love, laughter, peace and happiness together.


The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of smiles, hugs and interrupted conversations.


I never felt like I had enough time to catch up properly with our friends who had travelled from far and wide, but it was just so wonderful to have everyone there, and for the people I love most in the world to be part of our special day.


We also really enjoyed having lots of children to share in the excitement. The young ones had lots of fun running around and playing with the water features in the garden.


The music and laughter and flowers and sunshine all contributed to such a wonderful atmosphere. We hugely appreciate all the hard work that went on behind the scenes to create this seemingly effortless event. It was a labour of love by many hands and it all came together just as we had hoped and wished. I have never felt happier.


Thanks to Jenny, Jess and Jude for the photos!

Carnarvon Capers

The sandstone gorges of Carnarvon National Park first captured my imagination as a teenager. For many years my grandmother gave me a subscription to Australian Geographic for my birthday. If truth be told I often didn't read much of the text, but I loved exploring different parts of the Australian landscape through the stunning photographs of the magazine. One of the stories that did leave a lasting impression was an article about an impressive gorge somewhere in Queensland. Twelve years later, I finally got to do some exploring of my own.

Carnarvon National Park is about nine hours drive north-west of Brisbane in the sandstone belt of Central Queensland. The long drive is rather flat and boring - our main entertainment was provided by a yokel who repeatedly mooned us from his car window! But we arrived with daylight to spare at the Takarakka campground, along with hundreds of other Easter visitors. For some strange reason the national parks campground is only open during school holiday periods, so the hordes descend during the same few weeks every year.


The park rangers hosted a Steve Irwin-style slideshow that evening highlighting the attractions of the park, complete with a vocal imitation of a sugar glider. They were keen to emphasise the potential dangers of venturing off the well-beaten track, with a 'do not go here or you will die' focus to their message. I suppose they get all types of visitors. On returning to our campsite we discovered that the people beside us had coloured Christmas lights adorning their tent!

Saturday morning dawned clear and bright. We dutifully signed the register for 'remote wilderness walkers', then started down a path that looked like it was maintained by rangers on quad bikes. Here the gorge is wide and spacious, with sides gently sloping up to 200m cliffs. The main walking track meanders along beside the creek, with regular crossings by way of conveniently placed stepping stones. Cabbage palms decorate the lower slopes while macrozamias and spotted gums contribute to a sense of majesty. But perhaps the loveliest parts of this gorge are to be found tucked away amongst the sandstone walls.

Aboriginal people are thought to have visited this gorge for over 20,000 years. One of the most significant sites is a place known as the Art Gallery. This magnificent overhang is backdrop to a beautiful and fragile reminder of the local Indigenous culture. We timed our arrival there with perfection, just in time for some story-telling and oral history of the area from a charming old gentleman of the Karingbal people. Elder Fred Conway explained that the entire gorge was a sacred area, reserved for ceremonies and special occasions rather than habitation. He spoke about the different types of artwork such as stencilling and engravings and the stories they tell, both personal and spiritual. I felt quite moved to witness a relict of this ancient culture, and to be present in a place that served both as a burial site and a birthing area.

In addition to the rich cultural heritage, Carnarvon is also made up of an intricate system of slot canyons. Compared with the Blue Mountains, the sandstone cliffs here are not as high, and so the canyons are not as deep and sustained. However a few exploratory walks in from the bottom indicated that they are just as narrow, and just as beautiful. Unfortunately these canyons will probably remain largely unexplored, as the management have a blanket ban on all rope sports within the national park.

We camped overnight at a big bend in the creek, about 10km up the gorge. It was a balmy evening shared with a handful of other campers. Bats flittered in and out of holes in the sandstone wall which shone with the white light of the full moon. The rain overnight soaked straight through our tent - it must be time to get a new one!

In the morning we wandered for a kilometre or so up Boowinda Gorge. Recent floods had scoured this impressive canyon clean. The mossy walls were separated only by a floor of pebbly stones, and intriguing clefts in the rock opened up every now and then on either side. Without finding the upper end of the gorge, we eventually decided to turn around and spent the rest of the afternoon retracing our steps back to the visitor centre. Back at camp, we enjoyed the last rays of a wonderfully peaceful afternoon lying on the grass with our books.


If Carnarvon was within three hours of Brisbane we would undoubtably be back to attempt some more remote off-track walks. And I'd be very tempted to pack a short length of rope, just in case! But I don't think we'll be making the long drive again anytime soon. Next time I hope we'll have a bit more time to explore, perhaps when we finally do the big road trip to the top end.

A year in paradise

It is my one year anniversary since moving to Brisbane. I've spent most of the year being quite negative about the sunshine state, so I thought it must be time to reflect on some of the fun stuff we've done in the past 12 months and share a few photos.

These were some of the highlights.....

We headed down to Girraween just before Easter last year. Stepping out of the car at 9 o'clock at night was quite a shock to our newly acclimatised selves. Time to bring out the down jackets! We spent a very pleasant weekend wandering amongst wonderful rock formations and surveying the granite belt from amazing rocky outcrops. We stopped in Stanthorpe on the way home and filled our car with fresh market produce. My only regret is not making it to Applethorpe. Despite never having been there, this small country town is my favourite place in all of Queensland, mainly because it consistently records the lowest overnight temperature in the state, but also because it has such a great name!



Springbrook National Park is an old favourite. It is the wettest part of South East Queensland, and home to lush rainforest, stunning waterfalls, lots of lyrebirds and pademelons. I thought this old strangler fig looked quite spectacular in the morning mist - quite eerie and Tolkienish. We also found a massive carpet python that had recently devoured a small marsupial sunning itself in the middle of the path, and the biggest yabby I have ever seen!









Paddling on Pumistone Passage is a great excuse for a cruisy weekend. This narrow body of water separates Bribie Island from the mainland, and is only a hop, skip and a jump from Brisbane. Views of the Glasshouse Mountains from the water are fabulous! We just headed up for the day, but there's a lovely campsite right on the beach which is only accessible by boat. Beware of the numerous sandmonsters (giant bull ants) though!


Visting Green Mountains is like entering another world. Forming part of the scenic rim, this area is a remnant of an ancient shield volcano. The drive up the escarpment is wonderfully dramatic. The vegetation suddenly changes from dry eucalypt forest to sub-tropical rainforest, and hidden away are groves of antarctic beech trees, festooned with mosses and ferns. One highlight for me was seeing a regent bowerbird for the first time. These stunning birds congregate every morning for feeding time at O'Reilly's Rainforest Guesthouse.

Mt Barney is a bushwalker's paradise. Although not the highest peak in South East Queensland (that honour goes to Mt Superbus), it is certainly the most spectacular. At 1359m, the mountain is often obscured by cloud, so we made sure to choose a beautiful clear day. Joel had been to the summit twice previously in wild, wet weather and hadn't seen a thing. We climbed up via the South-East ridge, which is almost knife edge thin in places. It's rugged country, and I soon felt horrendously unfit as we trudged up the steep slope. But the views were definitely worth the effort. This photo, taken from near the top, looks out towards Mt Lindesay, another awesome-looking volcanic plug.




In June, we were privileged to spend a weekend sailing around Moreton Bay on our friend's lovely boat, Anitra. It was the first time she'd been out on the bay since having some major renovations done. The feeling of unfurling the sails and cutting the motor for the first time was truly amazing. I'd never sailed anywhere before and the whole experience was quite thrilling. We watched a beautiful sunset over the bay and spent plenty of time lazing, swimming and eating.









The Bunya mountains in the middle of winter was our substitute for snow camping this year! And yes, we did use our down jackets again. It was surprisingly cold overnight, but of course a great excuse to enjoy a roaring campfire. Nevertheless we turned in soon after 7pm, there's nothing better than snuggling in a tent on a cold winter's night! The next day we were still finding ice in hollows beside the trail well after midday.



To celebrate Joel's 30th birthday we planned to walk the Great Walk on Fraser Island. Our preparations were almost thwarted at the last minute by some wild weather on the Fraser Coast. At 10pm on the evening before our departure, we were notified by the parks authorities that the whole island was closed until further notice. What should we do?! Well, we decided to go anyway.

Our friends Andrei and Susannah were flying in to Hervey Bay that morning, so we drove up to meet them at the airport and commiserate together. While our friends took a whale watching tour the following day, Joel and I defied the regulations and started off on our walk. There had been over 800mm of rain recorded in a single day, but being a sand island the water soaked straight through, and even storm damage was barely noticible on the western side of the island. In some respects, that first day was the best. The island was still officially closed, so there were no 4WD tours to contend with, and we were lucky enough to have beautiful Lake McKenzie to ourselves.

After meeting our friends the next day we spent another 5 days wandering on sandy tracks that wound through heathland, tall satinay trees, pockets of palm forest and crystal clear waters. Each night we camped beside a lake, all of which were quite unique in their colouring and character. A memorable evening was spent on the lookout over Lake Wabby, watching a lunar eclipse with a crazy German traveller. Our walk finished at Happy Valley, where we spent a couple of lazy days eating steak and chips at the Satinay Bar and Bistro.

We chose a nice rainy day to visit the Lower Portals near Mt Barney. This name refers to a spot on Mt Barney Creek where granite walls squeeze the creek through a narrow opening. As the gorge opens out again, it forms a great summer swimming hole. With lots of rain in the past few months, water levels were high and the vegetation was lush and glossy. We had a quick dip and some lunch before retracing our footsteps in the misty rain.





Later in the summer we discovered a lovely campsite on the Main Range, only an hour or so from home, called Spicer's Gap. We didn't have an adequate map to attempt the rough walk to Spicer's Peak, but instead chose to hike up nearby Mt Mitchell. This easy graded trail leads to a stunning summit crowned with grass trees and antarctic beech. Panoramic views reveal the folded fabric of the Main Range to the north and south, and lots of interesting peaks further east.






Bald Rock is actually just over the border in NSW, but I reckon it's so close it still counts! It adjoins Girraween National Park, and forms part of the same granite belt. This massive slab of rock dominates the landscape and provides lots of fun scrambling opportunities. It also provides lots of rocky shelves and small crevices where the Cunningham's skinks love to hide. As you can see, we had some fun with the timer function on Joel's camera!

And so ends my first year in Brisbane. Looking back on all the awesome places we've visited and fantastic experiences we've had in the past 12 months, I can't help but feel satisfied that we've made the most of our new surroundings. There is certainly a lack of familiar faces amongst these pictures though, and I've struggled a lot with the feeling of distance and separation from my friends and family. The new year will bring lots of new adventures though, not least of which is my impending marriage in April to the love of my life!

Christmas Canyons II

The temptation was too great. Despite the prospect of 30 long hours on the highway, we couldn't resist another summer canyoning trip to the Bluies. It lived up to every expectation and once again we left feeling energised, inspired and rejuvenated.

After a hectic few days over Christmas, we left northern NSW on boxing day morning, already running 'late' after forgetting to change our clocks forward from Queensland time. I felt tired and grumpy at the thought of being cooped up in the car all day. It wasn't until we started to wind our way up the mountains that a sense of excitement slowly built up inside. On reaching Katoomba and stepping into the fresh mountain air, I couldn't wipe the grin from my face. Ahhh.... the beautiful Bluies. We were back.

With two lamb roasts and one tray of mangoes, we were soon on our way to Mt Wilson. The campground was bathed in glorious late afternoon sunshine as we chose a peaceful spot to pitch our tents. As the twilight gathered, our friends slowly arrived.

The consensus the next morning was for a quick trip through Yileen canyon. It was unexplored territory for all ten of us. The hillsides were unusually green for mid-summer and awash with a host of gorgeous wildflowers. As soon as we dropped off the walk-in ridge we were met with a lovely meandering creek of sandstone pebbles and sculpted rock walls. There was very little debris cluttering our route, having been flushed out by a recent flood. Moss, ferns and orchids clung to the sides of the canyon, decorating the rock corridor. The water was warmer than I expected, and while everyone else changed into wetsuits I decided I was happy in shorts and a t-shirt.

After a pleasant stroll through this delightful canyon, we descended through a dark slot and were suddenly graced with expansive views of the Grose valley. Sitting on an exposed boulder at the top of the final 60m abseil, we watched as dark thunder clouds rolled in from the east. Getting ten people down a long abseil takes time, and as we waited patiently for each person to descend a cold wind blew in with the storm. We were soon treated to a dramatic show of lighting in the valley beyond. By the time I slid down the rope, spray from the waterfall was blowing in all directions and I was regretting my lack of wetsuit.

Sheltering in a sandstone cave just beyond the base of the waterfall we shivered out of our wet clothes and enjoyed a quiet lunch while watching sheets of water fall outside our rocky refuge. The storm was short-lived, and we quickly worked up a sweat as we climbed back to the car in the warm humid air.

The following day saw us heading out to Newnes Plateau to explore Breakfast Creek canyon. It should have been a short easy walk from the car, but I decided that the track was heading in the wrong direction, so instead we took a scrubby shortcut through the thick prickly undergrowth. My friends weren't very impressed with all the bush-bashing, but somehow we emerged exactly at the top of the first abseil - what a fluke!

The water in this system was colder, and the creek much scrubbier than our previous day's walk. This time I didn't hesitate to wear my wetsuit. I volunteered to go first down the spectacular main drop which disappeared into a dark mossy cleft in the rock. It felt like ages since I'd set up ropes and I fumbled incompetantly at the top trying to untangle and throw down the rope. Eventually sorting it out, I felt the excited buzz of descending into the unknown. It was a lovely abseil, finishing with a second short drop into a dark pool of water.

We followed Breakfast Creek to its junction with Rocky Creek, then slowly made our way upstream. We passed two separate groups of canyoners who had come through Rocky Creek and were looking for the exit track. It was rather disturbing to realise they had no idea where they were and had unknowingly passed their intended exit several hundred metres further upstream. We tried to convince them to turn around, as it was looking like a long wet night for them otherwise. There aren't many possible exit gullies in that part of the gorge.

On reaching the obvious big bend in the river which marks the exit route, we drew arrows in the sand and hoped the other groups would make it out safely. Instead of taking the quick exit ourselves, we decided to continue through the magificent upper section of Rocky Creek. On entering the canyon proper, we were greeted with a huge cathedral-like chamber, where the sun filtered through in a few narrow shafts of light. I floated backwards on my pack, gliding gently through the spectacular darkness.

With lots of rain this summer water levels were high and the waterfalls were absolutely pumping. We were lucky in that a guided group coming down the canyon had fixed lots of handlines which we used to climb around the pounding sections of whitewater. There was a great slab, perfect for sliding into the pool below. Most of us went down feet first, but action-man Devin insisted (despite cautions about submerged rocks) on going down face first, thankfully without incident. All that remained was a short climb back to the cars and another delicious roast for dinner.


Day three started with a lot of stuffing around and indecision. Finally we decided on a easy trip through Du Faur canyon. What a beautiful sunny day! Absolutely perfect canyon weather. We lazed in the water and admired droplets of water splashing down the cliff face and exploding in a burst of watery sunlight. Looking up at the sky I could almost imagine it was snowing. The sandstone walls were bathed in a rosy glow of pinks and oranges and delicate greenery created beautiful fairy bowers. We stopped for an early lunch on a sandy bank beside a great swimming hole, before continuing to wander, splash and li-lo our way downstream. An early exit up Joe's canyon was a beautiful way to end a gorgeous day in the mountains.


There was talk around the campfire that night of an early dash through Claustral in the morning. I've been wanting to check out Claustral ever since I started canyoning about 10 years ago. Unfortunately the practicalities of getting back to Sydney, Canberra and Wollongong intervened, so it will have to keep its mysteries for another year.