Camping trip on the Hawkesbury

The weather is warming up and despite the occasional downpour, the temperatures have been in the mid 20's for the past few weeks. We thought it was about time we went on the camping trip we had talked about endlessly. So, after an expensive shopping trip to Anaconda, which had more camping stuff than I have ever seen, including chest freezers, full blown camping kitchens and shower cubicles, we were off.

We took the boat across Broken Bay and up the Hawkesbury River. We stopped for oysters at Brooklyn (still too big Clare) and onwards, upstream. The palm trees and rocky forests disappeared, and the river became wider as the surroundings became open fields and flood plains. We felt very small in our little boat on the big expanses of water, as we eventually hit Wiseman's Ferry, where we had been on the bike, a week or so back. I turned my nose up at swimming in the river water, which had by now, lost the peacock green of the sea and was filled with the big fat, (albeit harmless) jellyfish that we had been visited by last summer. So we went back down to a small hamlet called Spencer, where we moored for the night.

After a dinner of prawns, grilled on our new $9 stove, we clamped a mozzy net over the back of the boat, to avoid sharing it with big hairy spiders, and snuggled down in our sleeping bags - to watch the star constellations on M's iPad.

Waking up to the sound of kookaburras and an early morning swim, has been worth the pain of the head cold that I've enjoyed all week.

We've talked about this for ages and as the weather is warming up, we took the boat from Pittwater, across Broken Bay and up the Hawkesbury River where we went a couple of weeks ago on the bike. It was interesting to see how the landscape changed the further away from the sea we went - opening up onto big flood plains and expanses of water. We were joined by the big jelly fish that were in Pittwater last autumn, so I wasn't that keen to swim until we got back down. We moored in a little hamlet and cooked fresh prawns on our new $9 camping grill. Having clamped a mozzy net over the back with bulldog clips to keep the spiders out, we snuggled in our sleeping bags and checked out the stars above on M's ipad app and fell asleep by 8pm.

We woke up soaking wet which probably explains the stinker of a cold I've developed since. However the sounds of kookaburras laughing was worth it.

Elizabeth / Rushcutters Bays

Back on my walks trail, I was aiming for Rushcutters Bay, but took a wrong turn and found myself parked outside Elizabeth Bay House. Rather bizarrely, the road runs directly in front of the house, with a pretty park opposite. Having got home though and discovered the house's history, (champagne lifestyle, beer income), I'm going to go back and check it out in more detail - especially the grotto in the garden which looks amazing.

The area is Italian slash Holland Park and lots of nubile young things lounging around on patches of grass in their bikinis - or even topless, a bit risque perhaps for inner city bays.

I eventually made it round to Rushcutters and remembered I had been here before - my brother's wedding week included chartering yachts from the yacht club here. Not much of a walk and as the park is being refurbed, not much to see, but a sunny day, and the smell of sea salt made me yearn to get back to Pittwater. A bit longer me thinks so mussels for dinner will have to suffice.

The Soup Dragon (pea and courgette)

I know, I've been a bit quiet on the blogging front for the past week or so. It was my godson's 5th birthday, so I've been down with his mother on the Mornington Peninsular, cooking chocolate cake and beating boys at the wii machine. I'm exhausted. Now back in Sydney and trying to get back to my routine of walks and trying to settle into normal life, just as soon as I can.

One thing that has developed into a routine of late is my weekly making of soup. I think I mentioned a few weeks back that M and I are both on a bit of a health kick. To be frank, we haven't done too well - or rather I haven't, as M eats whatever he is given. I found all the hippy beans too much to do first thing and so I've now taken to making two big vats of soup a week which will serve us both for lunch. M gets to choose one, which makes him happy, and it usually involves meat. For me, I like the light, summery soups and I thought I'd care and share mine with you as I go.

This week, we're having pea and ham soup for him and pea and courgette soup for me. (I still refuse to call it zucchini, and I've managed to persuade the boy to eat aubergine, because he didn't realise it was eggplant which he hates...)

I think of my sister when I'm making this as she usually has a few tonnes of courgettes knocking about from her allotment, so if you can't find any, give her a buzz!

Pea and courgette soup

3 tbsp olive oil

4 courgettes, chopped up roughly

salt and pepper

3 cloves of garlic

few sprigs of thyme

1 ltr of stock - supposedly chicken but I used vegetable

1 small bag of peas, defrosted

Few squirts of lemon juice

Creme fraiche if you are lucky enough as I can't find it here so I use cream

Directions:

In a large saucepan or pot over medium heat, heat the oil. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just beginning to brown, 7 to 10 minutes.

Add the courgette and salt and pepper to taste and cook, stirring occasionally, until it's softened, about 4 to 5 minutes.

Add the garlic and thyme and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 minute. Add the stock or broth, cover and cook for 5 minutes. Add the peas and simmer, uncovered, for 3 to 4 minutes. Add the lemon juice and salt and pepper to taste. Remove from the heat; set aside to cool for at least 10 minutes.

Transfer the soup to a food processor or blender and puree until smooth, processing in batches if necessary. When ready to serve, return the soup to the pan, place over low heat and cook just until warmed through. Do not boil. Taste and adjust the seasoning accordingly.

Wisemans Ferry

No walking this weekend. Instead the perfect weather on Saturday pushed us onto the big white beast and into the hills for a day out. Wisemans Ferry was our destination, which turned out to be a car ferry across the Hawkesbury, about an hour inland.

After a few hours riding through dust tracks and flood plains filled with sunshine and wallabies, we reached St Albans. Just short of the village we found a cemetery filled with the graves of early settlers dated in the mid 1800's, all apparently called Elizabeth or John bizarrely. The fact that most of them reached their '80s, suggested that they might have lived a slightly healthier life up here than in Sydney, or London where most of them started.

St Albans turned out to be a little settlers town with a pub that could easily have been in a country village like Kent. We shared a ploughmans and ended up as fielders for a village cricket match which was fired by more sharp wit than runs and very entertaining.

The drive back through the Forgotten Valley was spectacular and worth the pain of freezing fingers after the sun had set.

Woollomooloo, The Rocks, Botanical Gardens then home

Bit of a duff day weather wise and I decided to stay closer to home, walking through Surry Hills to the wharf at Woollamooloo. Its now the home of the Blue Hotel, and its all cafes and glass but it also hums with the ghosts of its past and the comings and goings of passengers and the hungry 'wharfies' who worked here on a casual basis, shifting goods in harsh conditions in order to feed themselves and their families, until just after the second world war. It was converted in the early '90s after a great deal of protest, prevented the 'big dunny' from being ripped down.

No starvation here now, and plenty of money sat behind big sunglasses (it was raining) in the cafes along the side, reminiscent of London's Butlers Wharf. Here though there are some great big fat yachts to look at, including Kokomo II, part of Mr Laing's large collection, which I keep finding all over the place.

Opposite are the Botanical Gardens, walking to the end of Mrs Macquaries point to her chair, past the Andrew (Boy) Charlton Swimming Pool, to the seat at the end, made me feel very lazy as I fought for space on the path, with the thousands of Sydneysiders who ran past me in their lunchtime.

On round the bay to a nice view of the Opera House and then home through the gardens which probably looked much better on a sunny day. The Spring Walk was in full bloom and reminded me of our road in Tokyo when the blossom was out. Gorgeous, but somewhat over the top. Onwards past the Contemporary Art gallery, where I've been in a previous life and will save for another day. Past the seedy sex shops of Oxford Street, stopping for a bowl of veggie soup at Kawa on Crown Street, and sat amongst the fashionistas in their hats and watched them flap their portfolio pages and talk about fringes... in or out. I'm so out!

Neilsens Park to Rose Bay

My second walk took me further down into the harbour on the Western side. I started at Nielsen’s Park in Vaucluse and walked along the Heritage foreshore path to Rose Bay. Its only about 2km in length but the path is uneven and lots of carved stone steps so not good for grandma or pushchairs.

The swimming area at Nelsons Park was busy for a week day but I’ve since discovered is Yom Kippur which would explain the boys sporting their copolas, along with their beach towels. The path itself though was quiet and apart from the odd fisherman, a drunk under a tree and a fashion shoot, I saw nobody.

Heady with the scent of jasmine, which seems to be pumping through Sydney at the moment, this part of the harbour boasts the only perfect growing conditions for two types of plants that survived the European settlement. Spring was beginning to show with what appeared to be freesias and baby orchids in the undergrowth.

Aside from the pretty private bays, the highlight was Carrara House, now known as Strictland House, which was built in 1854 and now sits with its shutters firmly closed. Such a shame as it appeared to have the best view of Sydney Harbour I’ve seen so far. Named after Carrara, the marble-producing town in Italy of which the fireplaces are constructed, along with two large guard dogs, who unluckily for them, sit with their backs to that view.

Back at the park, I had a cold but delicious swim, as the ferries passed me by, and art students took advantage of the golden hour with their cameras on the beach.

Camp Cove, Watsons Bay

Since getting back from London, M and I have been on a strict health regime, a la Dr Gillian, which resolves eating copious amounts of vegetables. M is doing very well, mainly because he’s eating only what I give him. Naturally, I’ve had to have the odd sneaky glass of wine to cope with stepmother stresses and so I’m counterbalancing my bad behavior with a return to yoga. I’m also getting back into running and trying to up my fitness levels to what they were prior to the absence of Rikki, and the knee incident.

Like London, Sydney has an extraordinary amount of green spaces – big open spans of land next to sea or the bush, or little patches of space between houses. Lots have history and allow you to see how a city has been shaped. For an urban dweller like me, it's the closest I get to nature, for the time being anyway. I absolutely love to be outdoors, and whilst I am unable to work, it's a great opportunity for me to get to know the green spots – along with some of the history of the place that is now home.

I started at Camp Cove, which is adjacent to Watson’s Bay at the tip of the Eastern Suburbs. It was apparently the first landing spot of the European ships, having just made their way through the heads. It sports the oldest lighthouse in NSW, gaily painted in red and white stripes to distinguish it from others further down the coast. The lighthouse was apparently built after the wrecking of several ships on the rocks below – gutting presumably, after such a long voyage at sea to be dashed against rocks only yards from their final destination. Rather bizarrely the first light keeper was the only survivor of one of the first wrecks.

There is a short little circular walk up from the beach – one of Sydney’s prettiest and fringed by houses that compete only with those in places like Malibu and all good for lusting after. The walk passes by the lighthouse and several cannons and long ago redundant, defense relics. There are also some gorgeous flat rocks, perfect for sunbathing and gazing at the ferries passing below. For all out sunbathing, there is Lady Beach (after Lady Jane, although I have no idea why), one of five Sydney beaches that allow nudity.

The adjacent bay is Watsons Bay. Home of Doyles, Australia's oldest fish and chip restaurant with little tables set out on the sand – and one of the best views of the city. You can also stay here at the Watsons Bay Hotel, or get a ferry back to Circular Quay.

B Sharp's Yellow Moon

I have a friend who lives on the other side of the hill. In between us, in what appears to be a rather seedy council estate is the unlikely location for a little neon clad theatre called the Belvoir, and often I've thought of going. Last night, we made it to the downstairs theatre for the preview performance of B Sharp's 'Yellow Moon'. Great venue - an intensely personal experience with only about 20 other people in the room. 4 amazing actors, all hugely talented in their own way, an incredible script and clever direction. Up, down, sad, happy. All in 80 minutes. One of the best things I've seen for a very long time and we're still discussing it this morning. Go and see it if you can!

The cleverest bit of webwork

Don't normally gush about stuff I see on other people's blogs. I think this link however is absolutely brilliant. It actually uses your real address and is such a personal experience that it made me cry, or be more homesick than normal anyway... You need to download google chrome to use it - but then google chrome is so brilliant that you probably need it anyway!

The wilderness downtown

(Found via India Knight)