Sunday is Spent outside

At the painful hour of 6.00am, my dad turns on the radio to the rock music station and puts it on loud, evilly cackling, "No torture, no fun...Come on, we're going on a hike."

An hour and a half later, our booties are finally on the sidewalk. The train ride from Mortdale station to Circular Quey takes another hour and 10 minutes before we hop onto the ferry to Taronga Zoo (which is situated on an island), our hiking destination for the day. As I look back to the mainland, I see ominous rolling black clouds in the distance, hovering just above the edge of the city, and I wonder, what is going to happen next?

The hike starts off  uneventful. My dad is more obsessed with making his mobile GPS find him than with nature. Looking at him (and remembering the Indonesia trip where he was obsessed with taking photos of a live volcano wherever we went) I figure out where I get my own occasional idiosyncratic obsessions from.As we walk on, we come across two parakeets loudly calling out to each other. How are you? I'm just fine! My husband went to visit the harbour bridge today. My husband is off mating. Hey look someone's taking a photo! How do I look? It's fine, it's fine.

The trail we are following is called the "Bradleys Head Walk" and leads to a gun battery, built after four American warships managed to sail undetected into Sydney Harbour in 1839. As I gaze at the cannons and bullet pitted firing wall (my dad says the wall is just weathered), I imagine the carnage and bloodshed that must have happened during those times. [If you look carefully the cannons are on rails that rotate 360degrees. My sister and I tried to push one but it refused to budge.]

We come across a small staircase that leads to the clear waters of Taylors Bay and decide to take a break. Taking off our shoes, we wade into the water and enjoy the cool breeze. Midway through our break, my left shoe decides to go off on a paddle, drowning before I could save it from getting wet. After transferring some weight from our backpacks into our stomachs, we set off again, me with a one wet shoe squelching through the bush.

Our hike brings us through a maze of tree skeletons (bushfire reigns supreme in Australian bushland). On the way we come across the equivalents of ant high rises (ginormous ant mounds on trees) with beautiful views of the bay. The living standards of ants are high in Australia.

Heading towards Clifton Gardens, we emerge on a beach, whereupon I fall in love with an absolutely gorgeous Mountain Bernese. This dog [Dunlop] is twice the size of my own golden retriever. An amiable dog, Dunlop allows me to fuss over him and even gives me his paw! ^.^ Other gorgeous specimens include an Alsatian mix who loves swimming in the water and a Huskie (omg their eyes. I. Love. Their. Eyes.).

There is a cute little boy happily running around bottom naked in the playground near the beach. After awhile, he pees on the sand, and even squats for better leverage. It is a big puddle, but he proceeds to cover it up with sand when he is done. Another boy sees the sand pit and dives into it. "Sand!" he cries. O.O

In Georges Head I come across more cannons overlooking the harbour [FYI these cannons are extremely long range. They have to be, from their positioning]. As I walk around a couple trying to read a sign, a little bundle of fur startles me. After admiring big dogs, this tiny Chiwawa cross Pomeranian is not in my adjusted narrow vision. XD Max is also the first Chiwawa that I have come across that doesn't yip at anything that moves. After a bit of sniff, he warms up to me and allows me to pet him on his head. When I move away, he growls and asks for more petting. >.> Ruff.

On with the journey to Balmora Beach. We observe the Mercedes and Porches and Mini Coopers amidst the custom built three storey houses on slopes. Here the hike ends and we take a bus back to Taronga Zoo, and catch the ferry immediately after. When we reach Circular Quey, a unicyclist with extremely corny lines advertises his performance.  I know it looks easy, but it isn't. So don't try this at home. Hey look, two wheels! How did you guys manage to ride a bike? It took me 20 years to learn how to ride one! After awhile we become bored and so we go home.

And that is my Sunday out.

Footnote: I don't think feet are designed to walk on flat land. And it's not the shoes that cause blisters. It's the tiny grainy bits of gravel and sand that get in your shoes that cause the blisters.

I'm also very sorry that I don't have postcards to send this time round. I forgot to look for them in Taronga Zoo and only remembered in Circular Quey, and their postcards aren't much to look at. I'll remember next time.

Cheers!
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