Little Waterloo Bay

Photos here

Click here for a map of the day's walk

Little Waterloo Bay

Little Waterloo Bay. The last time I was here was with Steve Smith in February 2006. Before that, during those bushwalking days in the early 90s. Other lives, other worlds. I thought just before that this burst of overnight hiking I'm planning is really a distillation of all the hiking I've done in Victoria in the past. And the same for my planned tramps in New Zealand in January. Trying to reconnect with those parts of my past that I really value.

I set off from home this morning at around 7:20am in heavy rain - ironic after 2 months of below-average rainfall. The drive to the Prom was pretty uneventful - I missed the worst of peak hour along Thompsons Road and made it to the South Gippsland Highway easily. Checked in at Park HQ and set off at 11:05am, after parking in the overnight hikers' car park.

Oberon Bay in the rain

The walk ended up being 17.5 km and took me more than 4 1/2 hours, including a lunch break and numerous photo stops. The first 3 hours were a constant drizzle, after that it began clearing up. Wilsons Prom. A special place with a special presence - quiet, brooding, timeless. Waves roaring on white sand shores since the beginning of this Gondwana eternity. I don't really feel like I've got away from anything here - there are other hikers, including a school group, and there were a few others on the trail. I'm also not sure I need or even want to feel like I've left everything behind. My little home with Nadia (and Ruby the cat!) is what I value beyond all else. I miss them both :) It'll be so nice to be home again after this.

Lunchtime at Oberon

In the meantime, I'm here. No phone, no radio, TV, traffic, music, internet. Just this place, me and my notebook!

Why am I doing this? It's a good question - I'll try to answer it over the coming weeks. I think I'm trying to slow myself down, trying to find what I think is important. I'm not actually sure that all this - this wilderness - matters to me like it used to. I'm not sure what does matter - perhaps nothing anymore. After Dad died and again after my anxiety attacks in the mid-90s and again after I broke up with Anne and again after I broke up with Esther - I've felt like it's been the end of everything and have wondered how I would keep going and what the point of doing so was. But life has continued - for an astonishingly long 46+ years so far. I'll quite possibly live for another 35-40. Why? I really don't know - I don't think there's any purpose beyond the living itself. So, the most should be made of that. How? Ultimately, it's people, not things or activities. Relationships. And I've probably been a bit weak on that front for a few years now. But perhaps that's a choice - in part, it's probably why I'm here right now, alone with the wind and the waves.

I used to look for God in places like this. Is something or someone still there, brooding over the waters?

..............

Something, yes - perhaps just a smoky mirror, held up to my innermost self. Whatever it/she/he/they are/is, it's worth stopping for a few moments to become aware of.