Day 31: North or South?

December 15, 2010

Since we turned south to go to Sydney from Alice Springs we knew we had a decision to make: what to do after Sydney? Our camping preference is always for the solitude of the outback. But we’re heading into the Australian summer, when few campers venture north into the heat and humidity – and the wet season. Monsoons, cyclones and thunderstorms are not uncommon from December to March in the far north and along the Queensland coast. The heat didn’t bother us terribly much coming over the dry central desert, but we have no idea how we’d handle up to 100% humidity, or camping in torrential downpours.

We vacillated considerably whenever the subject came up prior to Sydney. Some days we were in agreement, others in conflict about what to do. Turning south seemed a good option in terms of heat, but the southern coast is a magnet for the entire east coast during summer holidays, and finding quiet spaces amongst the throngs of tourists didn’t seem likely.

Wednesday morning arrives. We have to pack up and leave the caravan park. Johan’s leaning south; I’m leaning north. Neither of us feels firm enough in our resolve to try and persuade the other. It’s just not clear what to do.

At nine o’clock we tentatively decide to go north. Rain is forecast for southern Queensland and a severe thunderstorm warning is out for areas around Brisbane. It puts a damper on our enthusiasm but maybe we can overlook that for now? Ten o’clock we’re leaving the caravan park when suddenly I say, “I think we should go south.”

So we do. Getting out of Sydney isn’t easy, especially when you’re avoiding toll roads and it takes us a good two hours of stop and start traffic before we’re on a rural highway. We head towards Wollongong via the coast route. On the outskirts of Wollongong we meet more traffic, congestion, stop lights, speed humps. We stop at a lovely park on the oceanfront for lunch, set up our picnic on a table overlooking the water with the coastal mountains as a backdrop. A man driving a tractor-sized lawnmower veers towards us and cuts back and forth, back and forth while we’re eating. Joining him are two other gardeners, one on a smaller sit-on mower, the other using a whippersipper to get the places the big guys can’t. Our idyllic lunch spot is surrounded by noise.

Camping on the coast means staying in large caravan parks, frequently used by adventures-seeking campers. Mini-golf, tennis courts, swimming pools, recreation areas, adventure parks – it’s all there. It’s also expensive – and they’re not big on peace and quiet.

So we turn inland, take the Illawarra Highway up to Jamberoo. A community of Benedictine nuns lives up here and I’ve wanted to visit for years now. We meander up the windy Jamberoo Mountain Rd with its heavy overhanging foliage to find their Abbey. It’s the most delightful, peaceful, beautiful setting you could imagine for a bunch of women who’ve dedicated their lives to prayer and contemplation. I want to stay for Vespers, Evening Prayer, but am reminded by one of the nuns that it likely won’t give us time to find a suitable camping place in the area before nightfall. I resolve to come back tomorrow morning.

Carrington Falls is 13kms further along the Jamberoo Mountain Rd, in the Budderoo National Park. It has a free camping site that’s clean and quiet, alongside a gently flowing creek. We pitch camp, carrying the weight of our busy, congested driving day and thankful to have found such a special spot so close to the monastery. Our resolve to tour the south has been weakened by what we’ve met on the roads and in the towns we passed through today. I don’t want to travel like this, I say to Johan.

Mist-shrouded campsite at Carrington Falls