The National Park

Yesterday we went to the Royal National Park, and getting there proved to be more than half the fun. I had been wanting to see the place since our arrival, and since Sundays and public holidays were the only time a certain transportation option was available, we made up our minds to go yesterday.

We actually started the trip the night before by attending a delicious curry dinner at Ronald's house. The dinner party was in honor of Ross's fiftieth birthday, and he graciously took a lot of kidding from everyone, as well as a bottle of scotch. Ron then drove us back to Manly and spent the night on our couch so we could get an early start the next morning. The first ferry on Sundays starts at 8:45, and since we just switched to daylight savings time down here it seemed as if we had plenty of time to get to the boat.

Another seven mile voyage brought us to Circular Quay and the train station, where we bought tickets to the Loftus terminal. We rode along for quite a while, making all kinds of stops at little commuter stations that grew more simple as we headed south. Finally we got to Loftus, and according to my Lost Planet guide book, we should have been able to catch a "tram" to the Royal National Park headquarters on Sundays. It turned out to be true, but not exactly what I had imagined.

After a confused crossing of the railstation bridge, we found the "Tramway Museum" where a group of dedicated volunteers operate these vintage trolley cars they have carefully restored. Sure enough, they offered a ride to the National Park, and we hopped on the old fashioned wooden benches for the ride. The car clicked along, crossed the highway, and entered into the woods......and then stopped at a rusting, abandoned rail siding. It seemed like it was the middle of nowhere, but it turned out to be about a hundred yards from where the Park heaquarters USED to be.

Much confused marching and countermarching ensued because the place is so poorly marked. Signage doesn't seem to be a big piority for the world's second oldest national park, and we found out from a firefigher that the park headquarters were actually located about two kilometers down the "Honeymoon Trail." What followed was a great bush hike down a steep rock staircase to reach the old Victorian pleasuring grounds called Audley. Each step we took down caused us to reflect that, barring any other happy circumstance, we would have to retrace our path going UP to reach the trolley car and home. When we got to the bottom, we found a very simple headquarters facility and a small snack kiosk....hardly on scale with Mammoth Hot Springs or Old Faithful Inn. In fact, most people there were simply urbanites on a Sunday afternoon picnic, and it seemed more like a city park than anything else. Of course we only saw a fraction of this giant park, and many areas are genuine wilderness.

Our hike back involved a wilderness experience, but not one of our choosing. The lady at the park headquarters told us about an alternative trail, but we should have realized the Park's lack of adequate signs would foil this attempt. Ronald, our brave guide bedecked in genuine Indian moccasins, led us through the tangled undergrowth like a true Leatherstocking, and we managed to reach the "Honeymoon Trail" again. We climbed the steps with spirit and vigor, reaching the top in no time and ready for more action....which proved to be waiting for the trolley car and a ride home.