Port Stephens Revisited: In Search of the Sun

Sydney, as of late, has been often cloaked in a most unflattering garb of cold, grey, rain. Our space heaters hold no hope of doing anything but taking the edge off, and my vitamin D levels have plummeted (literally, I have medical proof of the gloom). North Americans, you can spare me your comments about how many degrees over a hundred it is where you are. I am cold, and I cannot feign interest in your plight any more than you can muster sympathy for mine, so let's call a truce and take no jabs.

Admittedly, there is little more boring than weather reports from somewhere you are not (just as there is little more galvanizing than weather reports from where you are). So, for the sake of those of you not in Sydney and not nodding your head in painful understanding, I turn the rest of this post to a report on what we did to relieve our suffering, if only for a brief respite.

With our desperate need to change scenery, Partner-in-Crime and I drove ourselves (he drove, I was driven) 3-1/2 hours north to Port Stephens. It would not be much warmer there, but it would be sunny and near the beach. And, for a placebo effect, P-i-C booked us into a resort in which we had a balcony that offered us the opportunity to jump straight into the sparkling pool - had it been many degrees warmer. It was an illusion of tropical retreat, but a somehow comforting one. 

The last time we were in Port Stephens was two years ago, and I was an absolute newbie to Australia. It was also windy, cold and rainy most of the time we were there, so we were happy to see the resort region in the sun. 

Our first stop, as we arrived an hour or so before sunset, was to pull off to the first beach entrance we saw. We picked an unbelievably picturesque and nearly deserted spot. One man on a bicycle was staring intently at the water, and I could not decide if he was friend or foe, but he approached us and pointed out the pod of whales he was watching. We knew we were in the right place and that our frame of mind was about to vastly improve.

I was happy to enjoy the serenity and whales from a stone perch while P-i-C dashed off with my camera to capture every striking detail.

We then located our hotel, discovered out how to operate the heater, found dinner, marathoned some Master Chef and fell into an early night's sleep.

The next day, our first objective was to find the fish and chips place that I'd declared "the best around" in my naive early days. With many (many) more fish and chips meals to compare, I needed to know if Bub's lived up to its early hype. We got a gigantic plate that I believe was identical to our last selection and found a set next to the pier. I am so happy to report that Bub's still holds the title - crunchy, fresh, hot, light batter ... it is everything that fish and chips should be.

From there, we visited the friendly tourist information office. I've said it before and I will say it again- always visit to tourist information office when you travel. They are an unending wealth of knowledge and cheer and have never steered us wrong.

Following their sage advice, we set off for an afternoon hike in Tomaree National Park, a chance visit with some pelicans, and a most civilized afternoon tea at the Port Stephens lighthouse cafe.

Pelican encounter.

View from our civilzed tea.

As the sun was beginning to call it a day, we drove out to Soldier's Point and found a quiet park to meet some more pelicans and watch the sun go down. Many beautiful plans were hatched between my partner-in-crime and myself in this glorious setting.

The next day, we checked out of our hotel, found strawberry pancakes at the marina, and then drove to the other side of the bay to Tea Gardens/Hawks Nest. On the way, we stopped for gas at the most wonderful gas station ... sort of the opposite of my "giant roadside attractions," it was more like a tiny, tiny Uluru in the middle of New South Wales. These things delight me. I'm easy to please.

From Uluru, we proceeded on to of course, the tourist information center. A few walks were suggested to us, and we took up the challenge of couple hour-long beach walk to and around the little volcanic mountain Yacaaba. We were blessed with the calmest and warmest day of our long weekend holiday, so perfect conditions for beach walking. The water was pristine and we encountered endless sea shells and fascinating plant life. 

Oh yeah, and I got new sunglasses!

Port Stephens marina is the little speck on the other side of the water.

We finished our beautiful walk just after 3, putting us in that time frame between lunch and dinner when it is impossible to find anything to eat in a small town. A local bake shop, just about the only thing open, offered us half a dozen varieties of meat pies and sausage rolls from under a heat lamp, but we've not yet acclimated that far to Aussie culture, so we found ourselves settling for a Subway sandwich back in the shade of Fake Uluru.

We made it home in due course, and found ourselves in an apartment that was significantly colder than the outdoor temperature (a phenomenon I have never been able to understand). The next day it rained again in Sydney, and I could only close my eyes and remember the beach of less than 24 hours before. I expect it to be enough to carry me through the next month or so of winter.