Merimbula to Tomakin

We are heading north now, following NSW’s coast up to Sydney. A string of national parks runs up the coastline, protecting huge swathes of forest between the highway and the coast, with little towns dotted along the sea. Our aim is to stay off the Princes Highway as much as possible and enjoy the beautiful beaches.

The next four days gave us camps in Middle beach, Wallaga Lake, and Brou Lake, and a rest stop in a caravan park cabin in Tomakin.

Our first night after leaving Merimbula highlighted all my anxious neuroticisms (which have got worse as I’ve gotten older). Middle Beach campground was small and remote, on the edge of a stunning beach that held all the colours people dream of - sunset coral pinks and radiant cobalt blues - enjoyed in total seclusion. Absolutely stunning and what this trip is all about searching out. We loved it and felt so fortunate to experience it.

However, it also held shining blue spider eyes all along the path in the light of my headtorch, a huntsman spider on my panniers, a tick on my midriff, bold pointy-nosed bandicoots snuffling for food, and a black snake (either a Tiger or Red-bellied: both deadly poisonous). At night, in these remote wild spaces the dark shoots my anxiety levels sky-high. Poor Lilz is very patient and good at keeping calm. In the light of day I’m better, but I envy the easy laid-back attitude Aussies have for their fellow critters having lived alongside them all their lives. Calming this apprehension is something I want to get a better handle on!

Cycling along the coast was indeed stunning, helped along by the blue-skies, to the point where I am almost blasé about seeing golden crescent beaches and aquamarine seas. Almost!

Every time we stopped to draw breath, we met lovely people. Lyle, an Aussie outdoorsy surfer, spoke with us as we had our breakfast at Middle Beach. Johnny, an engineer who had lived in Borneo and Nepal, chatted to us when we stopped for lunch at Cuttagee Beach. A group of holidaying neighbours from Phillip Island asked us about our trip as we prepared our dinner in the camp kitchen at Wallaga Lake. The following evening Pete, a South-African Aussie, cornered me to ask searching details about our bikes as I was setting up camp in the remote Brou Lake national park campground. Out of the corner of my eye, behind his shoulder, I could see a whale breach and the sunset throw fiery pinks across the sky.

This route up the coast has so far been an undulating one, hill-after-hill, which we’ve found tiring. Some drivers haven’t given us much room on the road which is frightening: and we had our first radge Aussie who shouted abuse from his car and threw a half eaten apple at us. Two route closures added extra mileage along the hated highway on two consecutive days: on our way to Tomakin this meant another seven hills.

When we reached Tomakin I was absolutely pooped - the hills had gotten to me, and also I think the lack of downtime as we had been enjoying chatting to so many folk. We extended our stay at the caravan park to two nights.

Once rested, we head to camp at Pretty Beach.Read more