#though i think there's another good off-roading place near jervis bay...? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bighandslittlefeet · 6 years ago

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Hello Everyone!

So we left Sydney in Val the Van and have been on the road for six days now! It's been marvellous. We’re not sad to see the back of Sydney, serving coffees and running escape rooms can only hold your interest for so long, and I think we packed in all of the good touristy stuff in the first two weeks, so by the end of two months we were definitely hankering for something new! We’re sad to say goodbye to our friends and new work colleagues of course, but the open road beckoned, and on Sunday we set off in a freshly packed Val. We made a short stop for coffee at Four Brothers for Espresso and had a cheeky egg and bacon sarnie and then began the journey properly.

We headed south to go north, hitting up Jervis bay as we had been told by numerous folk that it was truly unmissable. It took us a good five hours to get down, owing to bad traffic on the main highway, it looked to us in passing that a lorry driver had had a serious near miss and was on the side of the road shedding tears to a police officer, meanwhile, we were all diverted down into the valley and onto the b roads. A lot of traffic wound its way through two very picturesque, but very small, seaside towns. Eventually though we made our way out of Sydney and further and further south.

Jervis bay is a nature reserve park with stunning beaches known for their high silica content which keeps them cool and makes them brilliantly white to look at. As we arrived at the park boundary we decided to buy a two day pass, after talking with a really nice park keeper who was sure that the campsites inside the park were a rip off and we’d do much better commuting in and out. So we drove in, the road becoming less and less sealed, further and further, the bush growing more and more tangled and dense. We came to the end of the road. The far end of the peninsula. The furthest beach. We did the obligatory suncreaming and made for the nearest beach. The view was stunning. A sweeping bay with white sands as far as could be seen interspersed with pockets of green and rocky outcroppings encroaching on the shore. We soon realised that this particular edge had quite a lot of rocks and weeds in the amazingly clear water and made our way back to Val, and proceeded to the other side of the headland. This beach, similar in beauty, was replete with a smattering of folks, swimming, eating, sunbathing, and so we felt more comfortable getting out togs off and jumping in. Val came with a full face mask snorkelling kit and two other normal snorkel masks and mouthpieces, so we took the opportunity, as recommended gain by friends, to do a bit of snorkelling. It was chilly water, but gloriously clear. We could see small silvery fish about a handspan in length, and a few jellies here and there. The sand quickly dropped away into the bay and we stuck to the shallows. Later, reading a pamphlet on the beach we would find that we were meant to always face the sea, as sharks were regular guests of the bays! Luckily we were spared any sightings that day!

After a short nap on the sand and a dry off in the early afternoon sunshine we made our way back out of the park. We drove to Hyams beach, another stunner, but the sun was beginning to get low on the horizon and we were starting to get peckish. We made our way to a shop to pick up foodie stuff, the plan was to make a bit of a mexican feast, poached chicken, smoky pepper mole, quac, salsa, blackened corn, and warmed mini tacos. We then made our way over to another site we had identified at bream beach. We couldn’t have done any better, well priced, on the edge of a lake and the people who greeted us were so super friendly. And the kangaroos. They lived on the site. 15 of them, just out of season, so there were some very small young ones! Very cute and very friendly. We watched the sunset with a glass of wine and had leftovers as it was too late to cook.

The next day we headed back into the park. We headed to steamer’s bay, a secluded beach a bit of a hike from the nearest parking spot. It was recommended no swimming, and as we crested the hill we could see why, the beach ran long and shallow and must have had quite a significant drop off as the swell was immense, waves taller than our heads relentlessly crashed onto the beach. We descended the steep staircase into the bay and walked the beaches length and breadth before turning back to the staircase and the walk back to Val. That night we made the feast and ate very well indeed. The next morning we set our sights on hunter valley, a location renowned for its wine and more importantly north of Sydney. We set off and broke the journey for a coffee and a bite in Wollongong, a small seaside town just south of Sydney. A lovely cafe playing Paolo Nutini, served great coffee and a bacon and egg roll - scrambled this time, not fried, and with a nice tomato relish. The BNE as they are called here, seems to the staple of cafes rather than the BLT, as in the UK. I think it is rather excellent. The time in Wollongong was rounded off with a walk up to a lighthouse and along the coast for a little stretch before once again we headed back towards Val. Some of you may know that Becca and I have a collaborative Google map on which we have been bookmarking places to see and go on this trip and we actually had one marked for this town. As we walked back through town to the car park, we passed Chicko’s a fried chicken hut - we couldn’t remember for the life of us why we had tagged it but it looked like it was doing roaring trade. We would have had some had it not been for the lovely food we had just had! And also, fried chicken mid morning seemed a little odd!

Back on the road we blasted the tunes until we climbed the foothills, into the mountains, and finally the valley. An uncanny sense of deja vu took over as it seemed we were transported into the South of France, vineyards and gateways with no fences, lined the route sporadically. Until we hit the towns which were a strange american cultural mix, I could have been in France, although driving on the wrong side of the road! We pulled into the campsite we had booked and set up camp, the temperature was cooler here, and so we shrugged on some jackets and walked across the way to a brewery. We got a tasting platter of local brewed beers, reasoning that tomorrow we could do the wines. We sat and chatted as the sun gto lower and lower in the sky and decided to have a bite to eat at the brewery. A very satisfactory fish and chips and chicken parmo later, and we were contentedly strolling back to camp for a deep sleep.

The next day we did our first campsite wash. The temperature was up so the clothes hung in the sun and were dry in no time. We were soon picked up by our tour which we had booked in Sydney a few weeks ago as a sort of early Christmas treat to ourselves. When in Rome… The tour had been recommended by a friend and was run by a winery/restaurant known as Two Fat Blokes. Julie, our van driver came picked us up at the gates of our site and warned us that today we would be drinking around a bottle and a half of wine each and so had plenty of water on hand - we rubbed our hands with glee. The other couples on the bus were Swiss and American and we picked up a trio of Irish women before making our first wine stop at Leogate. The nine of us sat at a long table outside under a shaded canopy and we were served a flight of 10 or so wines of varying styles and ages. They were all young and fruity and really quite nice. My old world sensibilities have definitely been eroded by this experience. We barreled back into the van, after a few obligatory photos of the vines with the mountains in the background, and began the drive to the next cellar door. Conversation was much more lubricated, thanks I am sure in no small part to the copious quantities of wine just imbibed on near empty stomachs, and we began to chat with the Americans, who turned out to be an Australian and an American who had been dating long distance and were here during their week together. I was asked who my team was, which I had no reply to, until Becca told me he was enquiring about football - at which point I was at even more of a loss. Grasping at straws I related how many people in the UK seemed to be interested in the NFL now, and I myself had picked up a t-shirt at a charity shop which I had been reliably informed was to do with an american sports team, but which I had bought because of its florid tie-dyed aesthetic.

The bus rounded the corner and we were suddenly in a spanish villa. An uncanny sense of deja vu washed over me again, as were were ushered through large oak doors into a high vaulted room. The dude who lead our tasting this time had a very nice pair of DMs on and was a pretty chilled and nice guy. Another flight of wines and we were soon in the van on our way to the two fat blokes pop up restaurant where we had been promised not only nine more wines to taste but also a flight of tasty cheeses to accompany them. The cheese was phenomenal. I’m proud to say the best of the cheese was imported from good ole europe! It was stunning. A real range, and all of them worked very well together on the palate. A new cheese, which I had not had before - a labna, was incredibly creamy and flavoured with a light floral tang. The smoky, the creamy, all went together with the light, the fruity, the well bodied, the red, the white, the rose, and the liqueurs that were placed before us. Placed by, frankly, our alcoholic guide, who admitted to always having at least ten of such and such a bottle on standby, and could happy put away a bottle or two of x and y wines by herself! Much respect. The tasting was made all the more hilarious by the bunch of Irish lasses who had the most amazingly over the top reactions to every cheese we had, it was either ‘the best fucking cheese I have ever tasted, oh my god, Sairosie, have you actually tried this cheese, it's incredible’ to ‘it literally tastes like, and you’ll forgive me for saying this - bird shite’. It was a hoot.

We were the first to be dropped off by the van and we settled into the van quite merrily, making our pre-planned ham and cheese toasties as our designated drunk food. But! These were no ordinary ham and cheese toasties!! As I set about making the roux to form the basis of the cheese sauce, Becca sliced the sourdough breads and began buttering every side. Soon we could begin construction. A doorstop slice of bread, a smear of the cheese sauce, a slice of edam, a few slices of chunky deli ham, a slice of edam, another smear of the mustardy cheese sauce, and finally another double buttered sourdough slice to complete the architectural marvel. Straight to a hot pan, toasted to a golden crisp on both sides, the innards, steaming and goopy. A triumph if we don’t mind saying so ourselves.

The next day we took to the road, bidding goodbye to our strange little campsite in the rolling vines of Hunter Valley. We made a stop at the two wineries we had visited prior to the two fat blokes stop and bought a couple of bottles for Christmas. We then made our way over to Nelson Bay. We spent some time durdling around on a very lovely beach and then made our way up to the headland lighthouse which had stunning views of the bay. We had a spider - an australian coke float, and shared some scones and cream. A questionable variant on the British Cream tea, to be sure. That night we found ourselves in a lovely beachside campsite next to the beach. We tried for another walk but the wind was so strong that it was like being sandblasted. We quickly gave up and turned in as the sun set. That night we found the joys of staying in a powered site, the next day all of our gear was fully charged and the fridge was lovely and cold, now flashing error signs for us as the second battery contended with watery first morning light falling on the solar panel. We set off towards Seal rocks, our next stop, having been recommended a campsite there known as Treachery Camp, by a colleague of Becca’s in Sydney. En route we decided to have lunch at the Rick stein signature restaurant. We hadn’t had any fresh fish yet and we had been looking forward to it down here. So we opted for a fancy meal to treat ourselves. We drank sparkling water on the balcony and ate spiced crab and wonderfully fried fresh fish, and bbq’d king prawns. It was fab!

Soon again we were on the road, barreling along the edge of lakes, and through winding twilight forests. Before we knew what hit us we hit the unsealed road and poor Valerie began to bounce and scream like no-ones business! We slowed to a five km/h crawl and still felt like we were sat on a giant washing machine. After a three kilometre stretch we hit the campsite and found ourselves in the midst of the remains of a festival type hangover. To top it off we were told that they didn’t assign sites we just had to find a spot ourselves. We were a little stressed and found ourselves between some trees - which we soon found out dappled our solar panel! We set out for the beach which was desolate, windy and beautiful. But alas we had no signal and had not expected being without it so couldn’t contact family to let them know we’d be off grid for two days. We didn’t feel like decamping either - only wanting to put Val through that dirt track once more when we left. We made some cracking food though, a very tasty cassoulet, and soon the rabble rousing crowd left and it became a much more young family beach vibe place. We grew more comfortable and relaxed.

We rattled our way back down the unsealed road two mornings later and were soon back on the road towards Port Macquarie. And I’ll leave you with this little tidbit of the next installment - koalas, friends and drinking - oh my.

With Love, Hugs, Spotty Signal and Low Battery Level Power Packs,

Sam and Becca

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