Balmain to Birchgrove II

The route:
N.B: Please excuse my terrible attempt at a map, scanned from the bushwalking book; clearly a bit of a fail as the two parts don't connect, but you get the idea... For a better copy, ask me for the book.

After overshooting the start, we found ourselves wandering down Young St, with spectacular view of Cockatoo Island/Parramatta River, and rather amusingly, bumped into another family clutching a copy of the same bushwalking guide, just finishing the walk (having done it starting from the other end); we didn’t ask them how the walk was, choosing to adopting the maxim ‘ignorance is bliss’.

At this rather advanced stage in the walk (read: outset), a toilet stop was needed but although the local toilets were adorned with the most whimsical graffiti, they were less than whimsical within, so it was decided we could wait, which as it turned out was for the best, as the architect-designed toilet block at Ballast Point park was a Wonder of the Modern World by comparison.

A tale of two toilets

We took the opportunity to admire the views of Cockatoo Island from the park at the end of the point, mentally bookmarking it as an excellent picnicking spot for future food-laden trips, before threading our way along a rocky path, past the unconventional Dawn Fraser swimming pool (I think she actually lives in Balmain, which is fitting), brushing aside overhanging branches.

Willows obscuring the Dawn Fraser Swimming Pool (photo credit: 52 suburbs)

We then followed the trail past yacht moorings, latticed Federation homes with minimalist Christmas decorations (e.g. few sparse twigs bent into a wreath shape painted silver) and mini Coopers galore. At the end of Louisa Rd is Birchgrove Wharf and Yurulbin Park but being lazy sods we cut this part out of the walk, instead making a Beeline across Birchgrove Park (possibly the most scenic place in Sydney for a cricket or football game; it surely helps local mums and dads summon up enthusiasm to go watch their kids play Saturday sports).

The next point of interest was Ballast Point Park; formerly a Caltex oil depot and now beautifully designed Public Park (cleverly referencing its industrial heritage). Here I will direct you to a few stunning pictures taken by the lady from 52 suburbs, and then my own curious photo, which if anyone has an explanation for it, I would be very interested to hear it.

Lock dumping ground (or this could have been the designers being a bit too clever – I don’t get it!)

The walk then loops around Mort Bay. For a maritime/history tragic like myself, this was a complete boon, Mort Bay being the place where ferries and tugs are moored and serviced (and go to die, I presume?), and is fringed by old factory buildings that have been converted to covetable apartments blocks (e.g. the Palmolive building).

Palmolive Buildings & Ferry/Tug Graveyards

After some increasing desperate strides on the part of my family, we emerged back on Darling St, at the eastern end, where the street dives steeply down towards East Balmain wharf. The view is quite the salve to any pain that might have built up from walking so far, and the sun-drenched park at the end (yes the sun came out, although only for a while), perfect for loitering in whilst waiting for a normal breathing pattern to resume.

Here a sane person might catch a bus back to the shops and cafes, rather than brave the hill and several kilometres between themselves and their car, or even catch a ferry if they were so clever as to have planned that far ahead. Rest assured, we did not take the sane option and I won’t bore you with details of my complaining (somewhat stifled by an ice-cream pit-stop). When we eventually reached the car 30 mins later, we were all thoroughly exhausted but satisfied at having experienced a more intrepid and invigorating day-after-the-day-after-Christmas day than normal.

C.L

The day after the day after Christmas day: Birchgrove to Balmain walk I

What does one do on an overcast day after the madness of Christmas and Boxing day? Compile Hottest 100 lists whilst watching the ‘excitement’ of the cricket test unfold on TV and endlessly clicking refresh on the Sydney to Hobart yacht tracker (just me? Oh…)? Or hit the shops to glare at/elbow fellow bargain hunters in the $5 bin at Hipster?
The answer: a bit of all of the above, unless one is feeling particularly masochistic and chooses to spend the afternoon braving the steep inclines and relentless trendiness of Balmain whilst looking utterly washed up as a result of over-indulgence in Christmas cheer.

And so our family set off for what our trusty “Sydney’s Best Harbour and Coastal Walks” book (2nd edition), informed us would be a 8km loop of about 3 hours duration, taking in the surrounds of Balmain and Birchgrove.

We subtracted 1 hour from this estimate on account of the Sheriff, little tortoise and myself’s speed-walking, then added hour back on account of the Heart Patient’s glacial pace and our collective propensity to stop every few metres to take photos of what normal people would consider banal scenes (see below for Exhibit A), consume food and drink (mainly food) and of course, search endlessly for public toilets.

Exhibit A: I managed to make the beautiful Mort Bay (not a promising name; literally ‘Death’ in Latin) look completely boring. Probably to the delight of the locals, sick of keen-bean bushwalkers like us spoiling their afternoon by taking pictures of them socialising their dogs (see exhibit B) or taking their children on spontaneous fishing expeditions (exhibit C).

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Exhibit C:

Getting there
The book suggests the romantic option of a ferry ride to East Balmain, or the less romantic option of a bus ride from the city. We opted for the least romantic option (in addition to being anathema to the bicycling/vespa riding population of Balmain), by driving. If you do drive, the hot tip is: don’t be council-coffer enrichers like us, and park in the sections of Darling street close to the shops because these are likely to be metered. Instead go further up, close to the cross streets where the walk starts, as even though you will still be limited to 2 hours (all the best with finishing the walk in that time!), you don’t have to pay. Or, as a kind, hipster couple informed us (after we had bought a parking ticket, but the thought was there), there are some shops with unlimited parking behind them.

Terrain
The book had this walk down as ‘Easy’ which I presume means a-just-learnt-to-walk-6-month-old-could-breeze-through-this-so-stop-complaining. However, the prevalence of steep stairs (see below photo for just a taste) throughout seems to contradict this and the Heart Patient nearly threw in the towel after enduring a few of these (I should note that I probably added to the stair-quotient by misreading the map a few times). HP did eventually continue, after aiming a few murderous stares (no pun intended) in my direction.

It is also worth noting that this is a very exposed walk; barring a few shaded sections, it was completely open to the elements. Therefore, unless you do the walk in winter, it is best to choose an overcast day and attempt it in the afternoon or early morning – and despite doing so, I managed to get a slight tan from when the sun showed its face for a mere half an hour.

Notable features


Views! Vistas! Panoramas! Scenic sights! There was so much to take in ; on land and on the harbour that even the lady behind 52 suburbs (who I’ve borrowed some photos from; let’s face it, she had warm gooey light on the day she visited, plus a slightly superior camera) couldn’t help reverting to postcard clichés. History alongside modern marvels; industrial grit alongside trendy gentrification. Beautiful Parks with jaw dropping bridge(s) (Anzac and Harbour) views, clever installations (+not so artistic photo-taking of said installations on my behalf), oddly named yachts, Islands (Cockatoo and Goat). Intricately latticed Federation homes. Oh and a shipwright’s cottage (near cnr of Cooper and Darling St). Swoon.

My only gripe is that the walk skirts around the foreshore of Balmain and Birchgrove, meaning that we missed out on exploring the interior, which is just as interesting, with some of the oldest and most majestic churches in Sydney (if you look across from the train when crossing the Harbour bridge, you’ll see the elegant spire of the Anglican church pointing to the Heavens and you’ll know what I mean), the boutiques and quaint pubs and good ol’ Unity Hall where the Labor Party originated, back when Balmain was a working class ‘burb. Oh well, excuse for a repeat visit I suppose!

Sustenance

This can be found in the form of delightful cafes and restaurants galore lining Darling St, or in our case, several chunky choc-cononut cookies (1 for 50c), sold to us a barefooted 10 year local entrepreneur, who had set up a rickety table on the footpath. They were good, and by good I mean there wasn’t even a crumb left.

There is also a grungy, madalt Woolworths, featuring exposed ceiling beams in a 19th century building.


...see part 2 for the Route
C.L.

A Selection of Poems

I Have News for You
By Tony Hoagland

(first read at Academic, Hopeful)

There are people who do not see a broken playground swing

as a symbol of ruined childhood

and there are people who don't interpret the behavior
of a fly in a motel room as a mocking representation of their thought process.

There are people who don't walk past an empty swimming pool
and think about past pleasures unrecoverable

and then stand there blocking the sidewalk for other pedestrians.
I have read about a town somewhere in California where human beings

do not send their sinuous feeder roots
deep into the potting soil of others' emotional lives

as if they were greedy six-year-olds
sucking the last half-inch of milkshake up through a noisy straw;

and other persons in the Midwest who can kiss without
debating the imperialist baggage of heterosexuality.

Do you see that creamy, lemon-yellow moon?
There are some people, unlike me and you,

who do not yearn after fame or love or quantities of money as
unattainable as that moon;
thus, they do not laterhave to waste more time
defaming the object of their former ardor.

Or consequently run and crucify themselves
in some solitary midnight Starbucks Golgotha.

I have news for you—
there are people who get up in the morning and cross a room

and open a window to let the sweet breeze in
and let it touch them all over their faces and bodies.

[Unincorporated Persons in the Late Honda Dynasty, published by Graywolf Press.]



High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

RCAF Pilot John Gillespie Magee, Jr. (June 9, 1922 – December 11, 1941). Written a few months before his death. aged 19.

"Up, up the long delirious, burning blue"

Sylvia Plath “The Night Dances”

A smile fell in the grass.
Irretrievable!

And how will your night dances
Lose themselves. In mathematics?

Such pure leaps and spirals ----
Surely they travel

The world forever, I shall not entirely
Sit emptied of beauties, the gift

Of your small breath, the drenched grass
Smell of your sleeps, lilies, lilies.

Their flesh bears no relation.
Cold folds of ego, the calla,

And the tiger, embellishing itself ----
Spots, and a spread of hot petals.

The comets
Have such a space to cross,

Such coldness, forgetfulness.
So your gestures flake off ----

Warm and human, then their pink light
Bleeding and peeling

Through the black amnesias of heaven.
Why am I given

These lamps, these planets
Falling like blessings, like flakes

Six sided, white
On my eyes, my lips, my hair

Touching and melting.
Nowhere.

c.l.

Primping necessities.

So I have to admit that a certain someone prompted me recently to post, and I feel awfully-bad that I haven't done so for ages! Blogging without bounds (i.e. not for work) is so much more fun, I have to say.

I'm thinking eighth.st.laundry needs a makeover, ASAP. If you have any suggestions/colour schemes/etc. etc., please feel free to leave a comment or even shoot us an email at eightstreetlaundry@gmail.com

On a completely different note, a few notes for this Australian winter:
1. It's going to be cold. Why would I know? I really don't. I'm taking my boss's word for it, because he spent a super-cold winter in Italy.

2. Colder weather means you'll probably need a warm coat & some waterproof boots for those rainy days. You can get a pretty black pair of boots from Sportsgirl at the moment for around $130 and if you wear them in enough, they look vintage. They kind of look like the Dr Martens below(from net-a-porter.com for £100) except they have a more suede-like surface & I think they also come in brown.

3. Camel colours/suedes seemed to feature in AW10 colour palettes for overseas countries that have already had their winter. Try to go for shades which aren't so dull.

4. As much as we love the 80's, try not to go overboard with the makeup, unless it's a dressup party or the like. Makeup for this season should be kept quite minimal; try using a taupe eyeliner instead of black with beautiful shades of brown or colours with golden highlights. To balance out the eyes you can get away with darker shades of lipstick; deep crimsons & watermelons seems to be winners.

5. Don't be afraid to embrace prints. They don't even have to match, so long as they have a similar colour scheme/have some point of similarity. This also includes shoes, which are also crazy as ever.


Don't forget to leave any suggestions for colours/layouts, because when I do get the time to change it, it'd be lovely to have some direction to move along/requests to fulfil (within good reason).

Louis Tiffon