Travellers Obelisk (Macquarie Park, Sydney) to Lane Cove Tourist Park
Distance: 21.36km
I’m at the monument. Shouldn’t I feel more? All I feel is awkward because I’m standing there taking selfies with a backpack on, whilst all around me are people in business suits sipping coffee from their keep cups and talking about serious issues. My walking poles are not helping me to remain discreet on the busy Sydney street. Nor is my constant coughing and sneezing.
The monument is behind a barricade, so I take a photo of it and my bag and call it…Time to move on.
Me and my walking poles click clack our way down to Circular Quay. Ferry number 5, that’s what I need. I’m so early, it’s the first ferry of the day.
Sydney Harbour looks spectacular. Vivid blue, polished concrete, twisted metal, rocky walls and screaming gulls. Don’t bother scrolling down to find a photo of this amazing sight. I didn’t take one. Instead, I stared out the window and commenced an internal dialogue that I would re-visit many times “You can do this…You can do this….You can do this.“
Within 15 minutes I was deposited at Woolwich wharf. With a pleasant park on the left, and a rain shelter on the right, I did the only thing that seemed logical. I walked forward, along the road.
For me, one of the most wonderful things about thru-hiking (or any hiking for that matter) is the signage: the distance signs which tell you how far you’ve come and how far you’ve got to go; little arrows and symbols that let you know that you haven’t strayed from the track; and place names which tell you that you’ve arrived…somewhere. The GNW has a very particular sign used specifically when walking through suburban streets. I would come to know and love this sign, as I tried to master the difficult balancing act between not panicking and consulting the track notes (having not seen one for a while), and serenely wandering in a particular direction under the assumption (sometimes falsely) that you have been guided well.
The walk begins in earnest. Up and around the Woolwich streets, it wends it way through a number of small parks, some of which have amazing views of the harbour.
My memories of hiking this day are really hazy. The sickness had taken my focus from enjoying the trail, to simply completing a task before I could lie down and go to sleep. When I look at my photos, I can see that there were nice sights – I just can’t remember any of them.
Eventually, I reached the Lane Cove National Park Headquarters. I must be close! I came to a sign which said “GNW”, consulted my track notes and headed in what I thought must be the right direction. Before long, I came to an abrupt halt at a private property sign. Back to the start point, and I try a slightly different direction. This time it is thick bush that stops me in my tracks. Backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. It’s like the Bermuda Triangle! I just can’t work this out…the notes say here, but the track’s over there. My GPS track looks like a snowflake which has been traced over many times.
Park rangers drive by and see a girl looking lost, confused, and no doubt, pissed off. They bravely pull over, and ask where I am going. Trying to explain “The Lane Cove Tourist Park” when no voice is available is at best hilarious, and at worse, excruciatingly frustrating. We get there eventually. Turns out the caravan park is actually 3km off the official GNW track. Hence my confusion. And hence my utter disappointment at having an extra 3 km to walk.
I arrive at the caravan park at around 4.30 pm, absolutely wrecked. I cough, splutter, sneeze and mime my way through reception and am allocated a site (I’m still apologizing to the front desk staff in my head). I set up camp, and crawl into my tent, completely spent. The only person who knows I’ve been sick video calls me…
“Oh. My. God. You poor thing! I can’t believe it! You look terrible!”
“I honestly don’t know how I made this 20km…”
The gist of my conversation with a friend
I fall into a dreamless slumber, rousing at around 8pm. When I wake, I crawl out of the tent, sit at a nearby table and have a couple of vita-wheats and tomato. It’s the first I’ve eaten all day. It’s cool and the stars are out. A sneaky kookaburra swoops in to steal my food, so that I have to guard it zealously. It sits in the tree above me and laughs with every failed attempt. For the first time in the day, I breathe.
