Travelling Worm

A bookworm's travelogue

Tag: new south wales

Manly

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark. I can proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, viz 95 HBM 80-1. Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while my TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm.

I’ll keep it meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

Today I’ve been in Manly, haunt of surfers and rollerbladers on the east coast of Australia just north of Sydney.

My impressions? Ramshackle charm plus lots of action.

It’s all happening in Manly. Rollerblading, skate boarding, surfing, diving, snorkelling, street markets, skid row sidling up to millionaire’s lane.

The ride on the Manly Ferry is one of the most beautiful in the world. The boat takes half an hour to wend its way from Manly Wharf to the city, passing close by the Sydney Opera House and the coat hanger. (That’s what the locals call the Sydney Harbour Bridge.)

A good place to snorkel is Shelly Beach, at the southern end of Manly Beach. Shelly Beach faces west, at an angle to the main beach and sheltered from the waves rolling in from the ocean. Take just a couple of paces into the water, and you’ll find Nemo. Scuba divers bubble way down below. My Travelling Companion gets distressingly enthusiastic about close encounters with gropers. Settle down, a groper is a fish.

Rollerbladers abound. There’s a good path running along the beachfront. For a longer run, set off in Manly Vale at Addiscombe Road, follow the cycle path down Kenneth and Pittwater Roads to Manly Lagoon, through Manly Lagoon park to the sea, then all along the beach to Shelly. This is about 4 kilometres of easy skating. If you’d like a hill or two, there are two good slopes in Manly Vale. There’s a skate park across the way from Manly Lagoon park. My intrepid Travelling Companion has crawled the lower slopes but never really dropped in.

A word from a wise worm

Bladers beware: surfboards are a hazard. This could happen to you: You’re in the zone, skating along with the sea by your side, the wind whistling past your ears, the cockatoos screeching overhead and the picturesque surfer-dudes posed next to the path assessing the waves. Surfer-dude turns to greet mate on other side of path. Surfboard swings over path. Rollerblader hits ground.

Travel tip

Dare to be different — like the flower in the photo down below.

Recommended restaurant

Ironbark wood fired Italian restaurant. 208 Pittwater Road, Manly. www.ironbarkmanly.com.au

They have gluten-free pizzas. This worm didn’t know such things were possible. I guess there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy.

A fan

A humble worm says thank you to STA travelbuzz for reviewing my site.

The book I’m in

Stern Men, by Elizabeth Gilbert.

The photos

Me and the Manly Ferry:

Me looking for a cosy hole on Manly Wharf:

Smooth empty tarmac, blading heaven. The path along Manly Lagoon:

Manly Beach seen as you emerge from Manly Lagoon Park:

Blading from Manly Vale to Manly:

Blader in Manly:

Looking across Manly Beach to Shelly Beach at top left:

Manly Corso:

A seagull on Manly Corso. (Beware all worms!):

Surfer dudes doing it the hard way:

A white azalea flower daring to be different:
The blue mountains

This is the blog of a 25-year-old bookmark, Hallmark serial number 95 HBM 80-1. Twenty-five years, and I don’t look a day older than one! Alas, I can’t say the same for my Travelling Companion. I spend most of my time inside a book (well, duh) while my TC sees the world. Read all about me and follow my blog posts to share my experiences as bookmark and travelling worm. I’ll keep it meaningful. Like a t-shirt.

Today’s travel notes

Yesterday I was at Katoomba in the Blue Mountains. That’s about two hours’ drive west of Sydney.

How did I feel? Cocooned in magnificence.

In my last blog post, I confessed to being awestruck by Uluru, to the point of wordlessness. The Blue Mountains don’t do that to you. They’re beautiful, dizzying, breathtaking — but somehow cozy too.

Here are some words for the temperate rainforest: dripping; tinkly; enveloping; silvery; soaring.

Words for the precipitous train ride from the top of the gorge down to the forest floor: “Da-da-da-DAAA, da-da-Daaa”. For those philistines who don’t recognise it, that’s the Indiana Jones theme tune. They play it to you as the train sets off.

Words for the cliffs and gorges: floating; misty; dark and handsome; the strong silent type.

The Blue Mountains have something for everyone: ghost trees and ghost stories; misleading road signs and strong coffee; adventurous rides and ankle-turning hikes. You can even abseil off one of the Three Sisters, if she takes your fancy.

A traveller’s gripe

There are NO signs pointing the way to Scenic World, our destination in Katoomba. We went round and round the misty by-ways, asking directions of the locals. Some of the latter looked patiently amused. Others’ expressions implied, “Abandon all hope ye who enter here”.

Eventually we found a sign at the top of a road and turned obediently. It was a very very short road, ending in a t-junction. What now, left or right? Not a hint. We guessed right. If we hadn’t, we would eventually have become just another ghostly collection of voices bouncing off Echo Point.

Travel tip

Don’t be a prisoner of your hair style.

The book I’m in

Season of the Witch, by Natasha Mostert.

The photos

Me looking down on the rain forest canopy:

Me in the rain forest:

Me and a ghost tree:

Scenic Railway track plunging into the gorge. Impressive wormhole:

The Scenic Railway train — brother worm emerging from his hole:

Looking out over the rain forest canopy:

In the depths of the rain forest, looking up at the silver shining wet bark of a tall tree:

Black wattles. I’ve dubbed them ghost trees. Their scientific name is Callicoma serratifolia, and they’re not a wattle at all. That’s the Ozzies for ya. Historical note: The first timbers used for the wattle and daub huts of the early settlers were cut from these trees:

Ghost: