Revisiting Wilsons Promontory

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Back in December a few days of good weather offered the perfect opportunity for a few days walking at Wilsons Promontory. Starting out on a Saturday afternoon, I walked from Tidal River to Oberon Bay campsite. Wilsons Prom is a favourite place of mine and this was the fifth time I went to walk there. But my walks haven’t always been without troubles here; the second time I visited a friend took a tumble and hurt her knee badly (but still continued the three-day walk); the third time a friend and I were evacuated onto the beach at the end of our walk as a back burning exercise spiralled out of control and the Prom went up in flames; and the fourth time I got a terrible bout of gastro and had to stagger my way out and eventually be driven out the last bit by one of the rangers. So this time, I wanted to exorcise ghosts of the past and I was aiming for an uncomplicated, happy walk.

1612_au_wilsonsprom-7552It was extremely windy when I started out, with an occasional sunshower, but mostly fine. The walk took me past the bulky mass of Mt Oberon, along the coast to the Oberon Bay campsite, which is nestled behind the beach. That didn’t protect it from the gale force winds, though, and the inside of my tent eerily resembled something out of Operation Desert Storm. I had to suck it up and not fret over the amount of sand that was ending up on my sleeping bag and everything else. I even slept with a buff pulled over my eyes, so that sand grains would not lodge in my eyes.

1612_au_wilsonsprom-7572Early the next morning the winds finally died down and after a quick breakfast I was on my way, heading across the peninsula towards Waterloo Bay. Shortly after leaving the camp I could hear cries of yellow-tailed black cockatoos, who were flying in between the trees and keeping a watchful eye on my progress; I suspect there were young birds to protect from evil bushwalkers like me. They accompanied me quite a way until they finally moved off. By then I was nearly at the junction and headed straight for Waterloo Bay. The place looked stunning when I got there and I enjoyed a few minutes sitting on the white sandy beach contemplating life and soaking in the view. Not long afterwards I arrived at Little Waterloo Bay campsite where I stopped for lunch and to fill up on water for the next stretch and quench my substantial thirst. As I walked looking for water I nearly stepped on a tiger snake which was crossing the path. It was not impressed with my progress and had lifted its head, lying motionless. It was only after I took several of steps backwards that it lowered its head and continued in its direction. I got my water, but I will admit that for the rest of the walk every dry twig or branch on the path started to look like a snake in my mind!

1612_au_wilsonsprom-7577After my lunch break I continued on my walk. The path climbed a bit steeply at first and then started a stretch which I remember well from previous walks and is quite demanding in working your way over and around lot of rocks and trees. But I was freshly fed and watered, so I coped with it much better than previous times and had energy to spare to climb up to Kersop Peak at the junction to soak in the view. And that was well worth it on this glorious day. The view stretched wide and far and even the lighthouse was visible from here. I took some photos and then descended back to the path for the descent into the beautiful Refuge Cove. My knees were grateful when I walked into camp and at 3pm I still had the pick of most sites. After putting up my tent and sorting out my things I indulged in a dip in the rather unexpectedly chilly waters of Refuge Cove, but it was blissful for the weary muscles. That was followed by a sponge bath to get the salty water off my skin and before too long it was time for making some dinner in the congenial company of a group of fathers and sons who were off to the lighthouse the next day.

1612_au_wilsonsprom-7597For me, the next day meant a long walk out. I was up early as I wanted to get going as soon as possible, because after the walk there was still the drive back to Melbourne. The stretch from Refuge Cove to Sealers Cove was beautiful, in particular the views towards Five Mile Beach on the northern part of Wilsons Prom. It was another spectacular day and every beach looked very inviting. At Sealers Cove I had to take off my socks and boots to wade across the stream and walk a while along the beach, before reaching the boardwalk through the swamp. The boardwalk ambles for almost two kilometres before reaching the path going uphill. About five minutes before the end of the boardwalk, I came across a massive tree that had crashed over the boardwalk and required some interesting gymnastic moves to get over, across and underneath. From there began the steady climb to the appropriately-named Windy Saddle, which took almost two hours. Although it had been a while since I last walked this section, bits of it appeared different and signs soon explained that destructive floods in 2011 had wreaked havoc on the path, with many sections needing to be rebuilt and in some cases rerouted.

1612_au_wilsonsprom-7613Eventually I reach the Windy Saddle and stopped there for a quick lunch. Then it was on again for the last hour, which thankfully was a gentle downhill walk. When I got to the carpark at Telegraph Saddle I still had another downhill walk in front of me to get back to the hikers car park. And although many cars passed me, no one stopped to offer a lift, which was frankly a bit disappointing. Maybe people thought I was happy to walk along the road, but in the heat most people should have been able to figure out that a lift would have been very welcome! I got there eventually, and after 22km for the day, various blisters (the price you pay for forgetting your shoe inserts) I deserved my shower and the ice cream that followed.

 

Escape to Ilha Grande

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The skies have finally opened properly and rain is thundering down on São Paulo, flooding its streets, soaking its inhabitants, who are all trying to get away from it, travelling to spend Christmas with family. It takes a good 50 minutes to travel the 8kms that lie between my home and the bus station. Once there, I have enough time to collect my ticket and make my way to the bay from which the bus will depart. It leaves right on time, heading out in the continuing torrential rain and joining the slow exodus on the highway. It takes a long time to get to the first stop at São Jose dos Campos, but after that the travel eases and the bus runs through the night, occasionally stopping for the driver to have a break and letting out an increasingly sleepy looking group of passengers.
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I wake just before we arrive at Angra dos Reis and after collecting my bag I find a taxi to take me to the cais from where the boats depart. There is still time for a coffee at the paderia suggested by the taxi driver and while the coffee is awful, the brioche is fantastic. Soon I’m on the first boat, a speedy vessel that deposits me on Ilha Grande in 30 minutes. The island is hidden in cloud, only slightly lighter in texture than on the mainland. Looks like the first day will be a rainy day. I arrive ridiculous early, but the room is ready about an hour after my arrival and I enjoy a bit of a rest in a hammock first before going for a stroll through the village of Abraão, towards the Black beach and back via the aqueduct. It rains steadily, but not too heavy and it is warm enough that I don’t really need the umbrella, except that my camera isn’t too fond of water. Most of the day I spend reading, sleeping and resting; I have underestimated how tiring the trip here has been and how tired I was to begin with.
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The next day it is still overcast, so perfect weather for a walk to Dois Rios, a small village on the other side of the island where previously the prison was located. The prison saw many serious criminals incarcerated, as well as political prisoners during the time that the armed forces were in power in Brazil. Although the prison itself has been demolished, parts of it still exist and have been turned into a small museum. The track meanders up the hill gradually and in the warm and humid conditions I am soon dripping with sweat. Near the top I get a great view over Abraão before heading over the hump and start descending on the other side. There is no one around, except for the howler monkeys who screech far off in the forest. It is an eerie sound, and while slightly threatening, it’s too far off and howler monkeys are not the aggressive kind of monkey anyway. Along the track I see many different birds, big lizards, the black and white tegus, but they are always too fast for my camera, diving back into the brush when they see me coming. Big bright blue butterflies dance around the path.
Once I get to Dois Rios I have a look at the remains of the prison and its little museum, before heading to the beach for a refreshing dip in the waves. After that I have a bit of lunch at the Barzinho (the little bar) before heading up the hill again. On the way up I stop at the Soldier’s Pool, a shaded waterhole and have another dip, this one substantially more refreshing than the beach, the water being nice and cool. From there a shortcut trail leads up the hill, which I follow, through thickets of bamboo, until it rejoins the main path again. The wind has picked up and increases as I ascend to the ridge. Just over the ridge as I start to go down again I notice that a large tree has crashed down and is now blocking the path. A little scramble later I’ve negotiated the obstacle, but more trees are creaking around me and partially collapsing in the wind, so I put the engine into fifth gear to get through this area as fast as possible. A little less than an hour later I am back in the village, where I first report the fallen tree to the police, as no one is able to get through to the other side now. After a good shower and a rest in the hammock, it is time for an early dinner and bed.
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The next day is Xmas morning, which dawns sunny and bright,  and with sore calf muscles I join the festivities at breakfast. Rennie, the manager/owner of Aratinga Inn, has created a fantastic atmosphere over breakfast, rushing about with champagne for her guests and soon the Christmas gifts are being handed out and opened by everyone. After the leisurely breakfast it is time to get my beach things together and make my way down to the quays to get on a boat that will take me and many, many other people to Pouso beach, from where a 20 minutes bush track leads to Lopes Mendes beach, which is truly one of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen, which is saying something. Soft white sand, a pounding blue surf and an endless expanse of beach. Most people stick to the area where the track leads onto the beach, but I walk on to about mid-way on the beach and spread out my sarong there in the shade of a tree and go for a dip in the waves. Despite being in the shade and with sunscreen lathered on, I still manage to get a bit burned. Why is it that there is always some part of the body that gets missed with the sunscreen, never mind how much attention you pay to the application of it?! After a few hours I retrace my steps to the other beach and wait for the 17h30 boat back to Abraão.
Friday morning dawns sunny again and I decide to walk up to the Cachoeira da Feiticeira (the Witch’s Waterfall), which is bewitchingly refreshing when I finally get there after a long slog uphill in increasingly hot and humid conditions. After visiting the waterfall, I head down to Feiticeira beach, miss the turn off to a quieter beach next to it and end up spending a few hours on a small beach, enjoying cold coconut water and açai for lunch, before catching a taxi boat back to Abraão. Dinner is at Dom Mario’s where I eat a fabulous steak and make a new canine friend, who is patiently sitting by my side in the hope that some part of the steak or of the bacon in the rosti makes its way to him. Unfortunately for him, no such luck!
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Saturday is my last day on Ilha Grande and this morning the heat is so oppressive that the merest movement results in sweat running down. Together with other guests Alex and Adam the decision is made to take a taxi boat to a small beach near Abraão, called Abraãozinho, where we find a good spot in the shade to stay cool. We have a great day, chatting away over a variety of beer, mojitos and caipiroskas while eating fish and chips and doing as little as possible. Eventually it is time to make our way back to the pousada, so I can get ready to get on the boat and depart the island. Initially scheduled to take the night bus again, the large and very international family who have been staying at Aratinga for these days as well will not hear of me waiting so long for the bus and invite me to join them in their transport back to São Paulo, particularly as we discover that we live only a few blocks apart. It is wonderfully generous of them and I’m thrilled to accept the offer. On the way back we stop at Paraty for a great dinner and arrive at 3am in the morning back in a quiet big city, where I even get dropped off in front of my door.

Whales, dolphins and an elusive sea eagle

Rock wall between Merry and Pretty Beach

Last weekend I was invited to a friend’s house on the South Coast. The weather was ridiculously perfect and, as we found out later, a great contrast to cold rain in Canberra. As it was, we enjoyed multiple beach walks.

On the first walk we came across this imposing rock wall, located between Merry and Pretty Beach. When I first saw it, it was completely in the shade, but I figured if I got up early enough I should be able to have a go in the early sunlight hitting the rock. The next morning I just made it in time, and only because the tide was going out again. I love the colours and the strata in this rock. And it makes you feel so small when you stand in front of it.

On our way back from our first walk we stopped for a quick view from a friend’s deck. I was scanning the ocean with a pair of binoculars and bemoaning the fact I had missed out on whales yet again when I suddenly spotted a spout and a breaching whale. There were quite a few migrating north and it was wonderful to finally see them with my own eyes.

Later that afternoon, on another walk, we spotted a pair of dolphins riding the waves into the beach. I was to late to capture it as a photograph, but the vision is imprinted on my memory; they looked like a pair of delinquent teenagers playing in the surf.

But the first wildlife I spotted on Saturday morning was a sea eagle, who wasn’t too keen on my camera lens. As soon as I got near, he flew off and kept circling, but never coming near again. He did come around by the side of the house later on, teasing me with proximity, but never a chance to take his photograph. I’m sure he was giving me the ‘bird’ on his flybys. Little did he know that I actually did get him in the first shot, so I’m breaking my rule of only one photo per blog entry to show him off; after all he is such a beautiful bird!

That sea eagle