A few friends recently made a pact to do more outdoorsy things. After a few walks and car camping trips, someone decided we should walk the main range track from Charlotte Pass to Kosciuszko – the highest point on the Australian mainland. Plans were hatched, dates debated and soon enough, we were off.

The snowy mountains has a large population of kangaroos and wombats; I once hit a ‘roo on the way to Jindabyne so I’m very cautious there now – there are just so many on the road. Once you arrive in the Kosciuszko National Park there are plenty of camping spots to choose from. We set up camp at Island bend on the Guthega Rd. Camping is free after you pay the park entry at the gate. The campgrounds are basic, but well laid out.

The walk itself is almost 22km of some of the most stunning scenery you will see in Australia. There is also 900m of vertical ascent so you need to be somewhat fit for this walk (not that any of our group are super fit, just don’t do this as a first walk!). Make sure you load up at breakfast time.

We saw thousands of wild flowers, glacial lakes, gorgeous clouds over the rolling valleys, pristine water, snow and hills hills hills.

We didn’t get foul weather but it can happen. Make sure you take first aid stuff, warm clothes and rain clothes. Pack plenty of food and water. We went in January and it had snowed heavily the week before. We had a balmy 4-14 degrees, and got sunburned.

Camping and park information (check for updates before you leave)
Walk details

The view from where we ate lunch

Nonetheless, it’s not raining so my friends and I are going for a bushwalk in the Blue Mountains. Natureboy has sussed out a route – Lockley’s Pylon – so we pile into the car and drive up the M4 to Leura, turn right at Mt Hay Road and 10.4 kms later, we have bumped our way down a corrugated dirt road to the trail head.

This is an unusual landscape. Initially there is scrubby bushland but it rapidly thins out to low, scrubby heather. I should be wearing something white and winsome and running toward a bloke named Heathcliff. It’s beautiful. It’s quiet. It’s completely isolated and blue, green, grey.

Natureboy tells us about the local crazies that live in caves. One such cave dweller thinks he’s the King of the Snakes. Apparently if anyone tries to develop the bushland, this mentally ill hermit will burn whatever they build to the ground.

Having visited this wild place for a very flat, easy three-hour walk along the ridge line, I tend to agree with Snake Dude. No one should wreck this place, unobstructed as it is by manmade structures. Not sure about the ‘Burn it’ philosophy but it should be preserved at all costs.

Have you been for a good bushwalk lately? Where to? Do tell!

To add to the festivities, there are Chinese dragon dance performances throughout the day. Drums signal the arrival of fluoro dragons manned by hyper-fit young lads and bogan crowds gawp from the sidelines. The significance of the dragons (and the name of the festival) relates to the fact that Nundle was settled by Chinese gold fossickers in the 1800′s.

Nundle is home to several antique shops, a pub and a fully operational wool mill – definitely worth the detour off the New England Highway for lunch, a look around and a seemingly unavoidable cup of tea.

Year of the Dragon in Nundle, NSW

Bric-a-brac at its finest

The Nundle wool mill - antique machines operated by antique people

Ah Xian's China China

The good news is that it actually looks like a Museum of Contemporary Art. 

The bad news is that the current collection looks like a garage sale. How are bog standard traditional aboriginal paintings on bark considered ‘contemporary’? And what’s with all the Year 12 major works? There are some stunning pieces such as Ah Xian’s China China bust and an old collection of Tracey Moffatt photos but they’re set amongst some really puzzling dross.

I visited MONA in Tasmania recently so maybe that has ruined me forever? Maybe everything is going to seem completely crap in the shadow of its pure magnificence or – just maybe – the new MCA really is disappointing.

Have you been? What did you think?

Wendy Whiteley's Secret Garden in Lavender Bay, North Sydney

I visit on a sunny Saturday afternoon and observe the steady parade of dog walkers, picnickers and families wandering through the clearing. An Indian bridal couple has their photos taken, people nap in the sun and others read in the shade.

The garden was built on a disused rail yard by Wendy Whiteley, wife of legendary Australian artist Brett Whiteley and mother to Arkie. Both Brett and Arkie’s ashes are said to be buried in the garden somewhere. Wendy built the garden as a way of coping with her grief after they died and also as an act of love for her local community.

This gentle deed inspired me to do something similar – much smaller but in the same spirit.

I live in a block of flats with a backyard that was (until recently) overgrown and ugly. Come Sunday morning (sunny again), Natureboy and I head off to Bunnings in his ute to stock up on seeds, sugar cane mulch, manure, seedlings, shrubs and native saplings. For two solid hours, we weed, dig holes and prepare the soil. For another two hours we plant, water, fertilise and mulch. I steal some cuttings from a footpath garden around the corner to fill the gaps and we spend the last half hour building a table and chairs out of the junk lying around in the backyard.

Before

The result? It’s no secret garden but it’s a comfortable outdoor space for me and my neighbours to hang out and watch things grow.

After

Where is your favourite garden? Do you like gardening too?

MONA, the coolest art gallery in the world

Turns out I was half right. They do eat a lot of apples. For everything else, here’s my list of awesome things to do in Hobart:

1. Museum of Old and New Art (MONA): MONA is my favourite place on earth. I recommend it with alarming vehemence (and spittle and exclamation marks!).  The building is a strangely erotic collision of sandstone, metal and red velvet curtains that gives the whole place a slightly ’dungeon’ vibe.  The art ranges from grotesque, crude and confusing to technically exquisite and sublime. It has a bar called The Void that serves fiendishly good espresso martinis, a cafe with a view overlooking the Derwent River and a bar that serves Praxis and Muse wines that are made on the property. Maybe I was drunk the whole time or maybe it was true love? All I know is that it rocked my world.

2. Mount Wellington: If you like being really cold, a trip to the top of Mount Wellington is a must. Natureboy and I drove up there and it was 1 degree Celcius with a wind chill factor of about a gazillion on the first day of autumn. We ran to the viewing shelter, buffetted by strong winds, and looked out into … a cloud. We couldn’t see anything except for the jagged rocks and windswept heather in the near distance. For one glorious moment, the clouds parted and Hobart sparkled like a faraway fairy land.

3. Salamanca Foreshore: If you are cool (and I suspect you are), Salamanca is the place to go and eat in the company of your feathered friends. Natureboy and I tried Grape Winebar (small plate menu), Cargo (famous hoisin duck pizza) and Tricycle (order the scrambled eggs).  If you fancy a picnic, head to the Saturday morning markets to buy fresh produce such as blueberries, chilli ginger beer and fennel, cinnamon and fig bread and then pop into A Common Ground and Wursthaus Kitchen to pick up schmancy deli-style food; Bruny Island Cheese, pinot noir spiced cherries and ready made quiche and cake slices.

Giant beetroot at Salamanca Markets

4.  Hobart Royal Botanic Gardens: I confess – I am a plant nerd. I used to willingly watch Gardening Australia before it got axed. It was very exciting, then, to come face-to-face with the veggie patch made famous by the show’s former host, Peter Cundall. In said garden there was a bunny rabbit stealing lettuce which delighted me in a very Enid Blyton way. The gardens are in great nick and there is an enviable range of species on display, from the Japanese Garden to the hot house with monster begonias hanging overhead. Even if you’re not into plants, it’s a very pretty spot to soak up some of Hobart’s intermittent sunlight.

Have you been to Hobart? What did you think? What did we miss?

A: They both hang out at Mill Creek Camping Ground on a Saturday night.

Deceptively quiet looking

When Natureboy and I decided (at the last minute) to go camping, we realised (too late) that a lot of the beachside campsites are booked out waaaaay in advance. Faced with the choice of paying $170 for an ocean view campsite overrun with children or heading out to the quiet countryside, we made like Petshop Boys and went west.

The friendly lady at National Parks recommended Mill Creek in the Dharug National Park so that’s where we went and set up by the light of a Falcon ute.

Ahh. We sighed the happy sighs of city folk covered in mosquito bites. This was living.

As the sun rose over our sleepy little camp, bellbirds, whip birds and an extremely aggressive bush turkey chorused us into wakefulness.

We bushwalked on the grass tree circuit (a cruisy 1.5km of picturesque creeks, angophora gums and, unsurprisingly, grasstrees). We also walked the Great Northern Road, a convict built road that was the first overland route between Sydney and the Hunter Valley (there are a lot of explanatory plaques espousing the virtues of sandstone culverts – my Dad would love it).

We had a swim in the manky river at Wiseman’s Ferry (the water was so murky you couldn’t see your kneecaps, let alone your feet), we had a refreshing beverage at the pub amd a drunk man with a broken leg tried to pick me up at the bar.

Suitably relaxed, we made our way back to our campsite. Yes, we would make a campfire, drink wine, look at the stars … but wait … a new group had arrived. Dare I say, encroached. And they had very loud bellydancing-y music. So loud that someone from the other side of the campground drove over and told them to turn it down.

We looked on in cowardly silence, mentally thanking the belligerent alpha male.

The large family yahoo-ed in an inoffensive way and we sat around our fire getting tipsy on viognier. Natureboy made risotto in his fancy new Trangia (a Swedish camp stove that packs up to, and weighs, virtually nothing) and we toasted marshmallows.

Life was good until the bogans in their hotted up V8s arrived and started doing doughnuts.  We’re pretty sure it was the belligerent alpha male who told them to f*ck off.

We fell asleep to the sound of carburettors and rubber and bourbon-fuelled obnoxiousness.

While I would wholeheartedly recommend Mill Creek as a top notch camping spot (composting toilets, a water tank and easily accessible by road – $10 per adult, per night), I would caveat it with the warning that you may not find it terribly relaxing.

Have you ever camped next to the Loudest People On Earth? Have bogans ever destroyed your peace?

Located at La Perouse in Sydney’s south, this secluded fingernail of sand and emerald water is a mere 100m stroll from G-rated Congwong Beach.

Find out what's under kilts at this idyllic Sydney beach

Despite National Parks signage that forbids nudity, Little Congwong is a veritable wang fest. I was delighted! It’s not every day you can mosey along a beach, get your boobies out and gawk at humanity.

Natureboy, to his credit, followed the dresscode but I was too chicken to go completely nude so I kept my bikini bottoms on. Well, lucky for me. Turns out organic sunscreen is as harmless to UV rays as it is to the planet. We both got fried.  Natureboy’s bare buttocks were more sunset than full moon.

Sunburn aside, this beach is about as close to paradise as you get in Sydney. Rugged bushland, sandstone cliffs, the odd inquisitive lizard at your back and a perfectly calm, clear harbour inlet out the front. Sure there are a bunch of naked dudes swinging their penises around but if you like to feel the blazing hot sun on your delicate white skin, this is the beach for you.

The main street is relaxingly daggy. The service is friendly, the shops are cluttered and the overall feeling is that you can go barefoot and no one cares.

This laid back vibe extends to Ocean Beach, an NRMA Holiday Park set right on the Umina beachfront. From the moment you check in into your Seabreeze Townhouse, the overall feeling is aaaahhhhh.

Seabreeze townhouse: at least double the size of my Sydney apartment

The interiors are beautifully functional and tasteful, with a solid timber table and chairs in the kitchen, modern cane couches in the lounge area and, impressively (for a linen snob like me), fresh, colourful bedding in all the rooms. It feels beachy but kitsch-free; something of an art form.

Tasteful linen!

The townhouses are perched directly opposite the beach access so it takes about two minutes to climb out of bed and splash into the freezing cold surf. The waves are gentle and the beach is dog-friendly, a total bonus for a puppy stalker such as myself.

The major benefit of Ocean Beach, beyond the pristine natural setting and the whooping bellbirds, is the fact that this place is Child-Friendly with a capital ovulation. There are several playgrounds, jumping pillows, a rainforest-themed pool and spa complex, a cafe and a Kids Club with lots of things that actually sound pretty fun (chocolate crackle making, pancakes and cartoons, a treasure hunt and tractor rides).

My spirit animal (according to a fairly unreliable website)

I don’t have kids but I know plenty of stressed out people who do; people who could use a break from their sticky, ungrateful offspring. Ocean Beach is the perfect solution to a multi-generational holiday. The littlies can play with other germ-ridden brats, the adults can relax in the knowledge that their children are safe and the teenagers can lurk moodily in the fresh air, texting their friends.

Have you been to Umina? What did you think?

You appear to lack actual queens so I am putting my hand up.

Why me? I’ll tell you.

I visited recently and it turns out I’m perfectly suited to the job. I love eating, drinking and lazing around a pool. I also like resorts, rainforests, palm-fringed beaches and cheap fresh produce.

When I visited in late October, the weather was a balmy 28 degrees, the beach was stinger-free and the water was warm (but not soupy warm).

Port Douglas is a sleepy little village replete with friendly watering holes. It’s overpriced to buggery so I would fix that. $30 for a Chicken Caesar Salad? Also, your sushi sucks and where is the fresh gelato? I am not interested in cruddy mass produced stuff. You have mangoes falling at your feet – I think they’re trying to tell you something.

On the upside, I visited Sea Temple Resort for my friends’ nuptials and it was sublime. The service was unfailingly attentive, the food was abundant and the setting looked like something out of a romantic comedy starring Adam Sandler.

Later, I visited Mossman Gorge, a tranquil swimming hole hidden in the Daintree rainforest. I watched bolshie fish swim around my feet as I waded into the sandy-bottomed oasis. Ahhh … bliss.

Mossman Gorge: Home of the performing turkey

That is until a bossy black bush turkey with a scarlet mantel and yellow wattle emerged from the undergrowth to begin its assault on handbags, drink bottles and amused children. I have renamed this performance Bush Burlesque.

I stayed at Villa Rebello, a spacious beach house five minutes drive from Port Douglas and a short walk from the beach. Split between ten people, it was $180 for five nights; crazy cheap. I didn’t venture off the outdoor couch very often but, when I did, it was to jump in the pool.

I can only assume I’m getting this Queen of Queensland gig due to my exceptional qualifications.

Yours sincerely,
Em

The pool at Villa Rebello: My chlorinated Queensland home