Bondi to Coogee Coastal Walk

 This walk takes place on Eora Country

Anyone who knows me or has read any of my previous blogs, might have picked up on the fact that I am a huge History buff. When I was young this was probably limited to Ancient and Medieval history. But in 2007 a video game called 'Assassin's Creed' came out, which inspired me to begin looking into my family tree, and my ancestors' places within history.

One of these particular ancestors is none other than my 2nd Great-Grandfather Carl Franks. Of all my ancestors Carl is the one who fascinates me the most and that I find myself time and time again coming back to, and thanks to Carl, I'm doing the Bondi to Coogee walk.

When I first heard about Carl from my Father and Uncle I was told he was an American ex-navy showman as well as some other dubious claims. Fortunately, when it comes to genealogical research, I'm pretty nifty, and soon found multiple articles on the Australian website 'Trove'. It was through here I learned Carl was a hypnotist, at one stage employed at 'Wonderland City' at Tamarama. I have often thought about starting a blog focusing on a particular ancestor, their stories, things about them, their place in history and people they may have encountered, but never do as I am always on the hunt for more information, which is why I decided I wanted to head to the beach at Tamarama, to see the location of where this Wonderland City used to be. Rather than have me drive all that way to see one beach, my Wife suggested the Bondi to Coogee Coastal walk, a 6km walk (12km return) that included Tamarama Beach along the way.

Planning to go Saturday, but moving it to Sunday due to extreme winds in NSW, we booked in a car space at World Square, planning to stop in at Top Impressions bakery to buy some lunch for the day (the sole thing that made my Wife keen on the walk). We had surprisingly good traffic for the drive up to Sydney, and after arriving at World Sqaure made our way to Top Impressions where we over purchased on pastries (both savoury and sweet), and a matcha latte for the day. We entered Town Hall station, getting a train to Bondi Junction where we headed to the bus depot that I commented reminded me of the one we had got on at Edwinstowe in England, before hopping on a bus to drop us off closer to the beach.

We made our way through Bondi towards Bondi Beach, where we made our way over a bridge to a table to eat our pastries right by Bondi Vista Ferris Wheel.

We only ate the three savoury pasties (both our breakfasts) before I headed down for my first look at Bondi Beach (in person, I had seen it on TV before). I passed a statue of a man swimming, where I was tempted to take a photo, but I commented to my Wife that the statue looked too much like ex-prime minister Tony Abbott, (I could not see a plaque saying who it was, and I just assume it was meant to be a generic lifeguard). I commented about how crazy packed it was for a Winter's day, compared to our local beaches where you might be lucky enough to have it to yourself. My Wife told me that this wasn't even busy for Bondi, and I was thankful for that. 

We began the walk heading South, past all the people playing volleyball. I asked if these were free spots for anyone to play, or if people had set them up, or if they were paid for. My Wife didn't have the answers. We reached some stairs, and we headed up towards Bondi Icebergs Swimming club with a view overlooking the beach.

As we passed the club we saw a group of birds scuttling around on the ground over a railing. I thought that they reminded me of Compy's (Compsognathus, a Dinosaur) from the Jurassic Park films. My Wife commented that out loud, thinking the exact same thing as me. I pointed out the greenish shine in their feathers and my Wife said that it was due to some oil in their feathers.

We continued along, weaving in and out of the hordes of people, walking at various speeds and randomly stopping in front of you.

I found it difficult to take photo's given the vast number of people along the way, as I didn't want to just feel like I was taking pictures of random people.  There were people trying to jog along it along with ample amounts of people walking their Dogs (that excited my Wife and I as we pointed out every Dog to each other, and I have never seen so many Australian Shepherd Dogs in my life).

I passed a sign saying 'From Bush to Boom' that detailed some of the early history of Bondi, I took a photo, but I know sometimes they can be hard to read so I have transcribed it below.

"Although just 7 kilometres from the city, Bondi was described in 1842 as 'a place of peculiar loneliness... a shining sandy beach unmarked by human foot'. However, rock carvings alone are clear reminders that many Aboriginal feet have walked these sands long before those of European settlers.

Early Bondi Locals
'Nosey Rob', or Robert 'the Gentleman Hangman' Howard lived a lonely life in the cottage in the top right of this photo. A former horse drawn cab driver, he worked for almost 30 years as the state hangman after being shunned by society following a horribly disfiguring accident, in which his nose was destroyed. This, and his reputation as a decent fellow, who carried out his job with respectability, gave rise to his nicknames. 

The Rise of Beach Culture
As surf bathing became more and more popular, changing sheds for 750 men and 250 women were opened in 1911. The foundation stone for a new Bondi Pavillion, which included Turkish baths, a ballroom and a dressing room for 12,000 people was laid in 1928. The excitement and competition of surf carnivals attracted thousands of spectators to Bondi. Hessian screens were put up to keep people off the beach and to charge admission."

We came around the headland, getting a look at the many beaches still to make our way across on our walk.

While walking along I did my annoying habit of pointing out all the plants I knew along the way, from the Pigs Face, to the Warrigal Greens and the Coastal Rosemary. We walked past a track down to MacKenzies Bay before walking past an outdoor exercise park with some gym junkie looking guys loudly blasting their 'gangsta' music while they worked out.

As we rounded further we came to our first beach after Bondi. Tamarama Beach.

I was taken aback to get to the beach so fast. I had looked the walk up maybe once or twice half-heartedly for an idea of where Tamarama was and had assumed it was the 3rd or 4th beach along the walk. I knew there were some signs or plaques around detailing some information about 'Wonderland City' (as my Dad had come to the beach to have a look while I was undergoing Rituximab treatment for Lymphoma, a side effect from my Stem Cell Transplant, and told my Wife to keep an eye out. I decided to walk down the stairs to the beach to have a look down there while my Wife followed the path along, as she didn't want to 'walk in sand'. I headed down looking for remnants, or artifacts showing that this Wonderland City had once existed here.

I wondered to myself if these were left from Wonderland City more than 100 years ago, or if they were from something more recent. There was no way for me to tell as I wandered around the base of the lifeguard tower. I felt my phone vibrating and looked to see my Wife calling. I answered with her telling me she had found a sign on the path just behind some bins, so I walked back up the stairs along the path until I reached her.

"SYDNEY'S PLAYGROUND
Vaudeville acts and an elephant called Alice
The Bondi Aquarium, Sydney's first coastal amusement park, opened on this headland in 1887. Its greatest attraction was a plunging rollercoaster that dived and twisted over the beach. People flocked to laugh at the the vaudeville acts and marvel at the aquarium creatures, which included seals and a tiger shark.

Powered by its own steam plant, Wonderland City which replaced Bondi Aquarium, was an extravaganza of noise, entertainment and light. It thrilled crowds with an airship suspended above the bay, and rides on the beach on an elephant named Alice.

However, battles with local residents over beach access, charges of cruelty to animals, and an accident involving the airship led to a decline in visitors. After a few years of poor crowds and low revenue, the Wonderland City closed in 1911."

As we walked down to the grass lawn with a toilet block, cafe, and barbecue areas where people where picnicking, enjoying the sunny day or playing with their gorgeous Dogs. We used the facilities, before reapplying some sunscreen, while we looked around for more information as I wondered about every tree or stone "I wonder if this was here that 100 years ago when Carl Franks was here." I found 4 more sign posts full of information on Tamarama, 3 of the 4 mentioning Wonderland City. So, what was Wonderland City? 

Wonderland City - 1906-1911
Wonderland City was founded by theatrical entrepreneur William Anderson.

Wonderland City

"Employing over 160 people, Wonderland set a new standard for the Australian outdoor pleasure grounds. Large crowds, estimated at 2000 people, came every summer weekend, with 70 turnstiles at the entrance doing a brisk trade.

A barbed wire fence which extended from the cliffs and across the back, blocked access for swimmers to the beach. Following an ongoing battle with swimmers, Wonderlands' owner saw the matter being taken to New South Wales parliament.

Amidst disputes with the swimmers of Tamarama and complaints the animals were being poorly housed and mistreated, opposition to Wonderland grew. Due to poor crowds and low revenue Wonderland closed in 1911."

But why did any of this matter to me? (Besides being a history buff). Well my 2nd great-grandfather Carl Franks worked here. So, who was Carl Franks?

Carl Franks

I first learned about Carl Franks through my Father. Who learned about him through his brother, my Uncle Mark. My Dad didn't grow up with his biological family. My Nana Betty, in her youth, had an affair on her husband John Franks, with an Italian man.

Nana Betty (95) and myself (31) - 2023

On discovering she was pregnant, she decided to confess to her husband, lest the child come out an Italian and her secret be revealed. John agreed that if the child came out Italian they would adopt it out. However, my Dad was born in 1954 and adopted out regardless (John was my Dad's Father, as confirmed through Ancestry DNA). He ended up meeting up with his birth Mother, my Nana Betty and met his 2 brothers and a sister. His Father John never acknowledged or got to know my Dad before passing away. So wanting to learn more about the paternal ancestry line I often messaged my Uncle Mark for information, learning John's Father, Richard Lawrence Franks (called Dick Franks) had sold pies up in Ettalong, but prior to that he had served in the army during World War II in the 2/30 Battalion.

'Richard Lawrence Franks'

Richards' Father was our elusive and mysterious showman. Carl Franks. While researching Carl Franks using one of my many resources 'Trove' I found a few Newpaper articles about him performing hypnotism at numerous showgrounds.

I found recurring references.to fellow showman he would perform with including Rocky Vane, an pretty dubious character believed to have released Tiger Snakes onto Carnac Island off Western Australia which preceded to infest the island and capitalised on his own Wife's death by a Snake bite!

Another is David Hepburn, in the article above known as the World's Greatest Cataleptic Marvel but later in life referred to as a 'Fire King'. It was in an incident with this David Hepburn where I learned Carl had been employed at Wonderland City, as the two had been involved in a drunken altercation.

POLICE COURT PROCEEDINGS.

"At the Paddington Court yesterday, David Hepburn, 46, vaudeville artist, was charged with assaulting Carl Franks, at Bondi, on January 3.

According to the prosecution, both parties were as-sociated in the showmen's carnival at Wonderland

City, Bondi. Complainant said he approached defend- ant for the purpose of having his contract settled, and the reply he got was to wait for the settlement, which would be at defendant's pleasure. Then, it was al-leged, that as complainant turned towards the door of the office he received a blow on the nose, which damaged it, and rendered him unconscious for three or four minutes. In answer to Mr. E. R. Abigail (who appeared for the defence), complainant said he was a manufacturer of inhalers, which business he had carried on for five years. He and defendant were show- ing together at Wonderland City as entertainers, "also for catalepsy," defendant being the cataleptic subject.

They called each other "Dave" and "Carl." Com- plaintant admitted that he had been drinking stout that day. Medical evidence having been given.

Hepburn, who pleaded not guilty, said he was a showman, and was under engagement with the show-man's carnival at Wonderland City at the time of the alleged assault. Franks was engaged by him in a hypnotic turn. Complainant was the hypnotist, and witness the cataleptic subject. On Mon-day complainant approached him for some pay, and witness went to the office and arranged the payment of £5, which sum complainant received. They had been drinking a little together, and complainant left, to re-turn in the evening. Near the King's Theatre Franks said to witness, "What about the rest of this gilt?" Witness told him not to bother just then, and went into the office, closing the door. Franks entered with several others, and commenced to use bad language to-wards witness, which he accompanied by a menacing movement. Witness told him to go away, and in

warding off a blow aimed at him accidentally struck Franks, who fell down, and said, "You have broken my nose." Two witnesses for the defence stated that at the time complainant was in a state of excite-ment and fluster.

Mr. Macfarlane, S.M., dismissed the case.

A similar charge was laid against Jack O'Brien by Arthur Copeland. Complainant in this case stated that he had been working for defendant, who had an in- terest in Wonderland City. On the 1st (unintelligible), he stated, he asked defendant for some wages, when O'Brien struck him on the jaw, and said, "That's all you'll

get."

The case was not proved, and defendant was dis-charged."

Another newspaper article reporting on the same thing, posted:

POLICE COURTS.

THURSDAY, JANUARY «. SHOWMEN AT COURT.

"A couple of matters arising out of the Showmen's Carnival held at Wonderland City during the year-end holidays were referred to Mr. W. M. Macfarlone, S.M., at the Paddington Police Court yesterday for adjustment- The question of wages was at the bottom of the trouble. The first case was that in which David Hepburn, with maliciously inflicting grievous bodily harm upon Carl Franks at Bondi on January 3, Mr. E. R. Abigail appeared for the accused. The prosecutor, who described himself as a manufacturer, said that on January 3 he saw the accused in Mr. Rickett's office at Wonderland City, and said to him, "Will you settle up my contract" The witness was told to wait. for the contract, and that the accused would settle. up when he plowed. As witness turned towards the door he got a full blow across the bridge of the nose with the buck of the accused's hand. He was knocked down and., rendered senseless for three or four minutes. No provocation was given for the assault. In answer to Mr. Abigail, the witness said he manufactured toothpowder and inhalers, and had been doing so for five years. The accused and witness had not been mates or friends for years. They had shown at different places together at different times. The accused was his cataleptic subject at Wonderland City during the holidays. Dr. Hugh George Allen, resident house surgeon at Sydney Hospital, said he attended the ' prosecutor at IX o'clock, on the night of January 3 for an injury to his nose, which could have been caused by a blow with the list. There was a slight fracture of the left, nasal bone, but no permanent injury would ensue. The magistrate at this stage reduced the charge to one of common assault, and the defendant pleaded not guilty.... The defendant, giving evidence, said he was under contract with the Showmen's Association to perform certain acts at Wonderland City last week, lie had known the complainant for the past il years, and had been with him on and off for about (untellable) years of the period. "They showed together, ate together, and drank together." The witness engaged the complainant to as sist him in his turns, one of which was hypnotism. Complainant was the hypnotist, and the defendant was the cataleptic subject — "the only one in Austral aida at the present time." The complainant asked witness for some money, and £5 was paid over at oncw. In the evening they met near the King's Theatre, and Franks began to brandish his arms in a menacing fashion, saying, "Your hands will not protect you.'" Witness stood up to swing his arm round in order to word off a blow aimed at him by the complainant, who ran his face against witness's; hand. Franks then lay down and began to lament a broken nose. Witness would "not hurt Drank for £1000." After further evidence, the magistrate caid that, despite the nice way in which Svenson had given his evidence, there was so case, and the information was. therefore, dismissed."

Mr. Rickett's Wonderland City Manager

Having never heard about Wonderland City before it was these articles and this history that led me to walk this coastal track to Tamarama in the first place, but I was always trying to learn more about Carl. It had been passed down that he was an American ex-navy man, and I found two articles that referenced this.

"Special engagement of Carl Franks, the world's greatest exponent of Hypnotism, adding his latest American sensation of Diving 16 feet into broken glass in a

bathing costume." One article wrote, and another saying: 

"Or red-headed Carl Franks, the ex-American navy man, who, from the piano case in front of the big tent, would dare anyone to eat candles. But can't you feel the cold shivers running up and down your back even now when you think of Jack the Ripper, not the original English murderer, but the chap who worked the old Show with his sword and his little leaden soldiers? Jack, who would catch a' small boy, put half a crown in his mouth, and then cover his face with a hand-kerchief. I can see him taking out the big shiny sword, and going through the old formula of cutting the coin without touching the boy's nose. And how near ho would come to doing it. Nothing could over convince me but that he would have done it; only for' the boy being frightened. And the Wild Man of Borneo, who would eat you if you got too close. The Fat Boy and the Fat Girl, the cheapjack who would soil you a real knife with four blades in it for threepence. Their name was legion, and although perhaps, looking at it from a modern entertainment point of view, you never got your money's worth, you got more than it's worth in fun and "wonderful things." Now the remnant of the old brigade is licrded together in the side-show section. Most of them sorry and sick looking, and the others too ultra-modern to extract a sixpence from any real pop-eyed kiddie. Of the old hands Carl Franks is recording his 15th year on the ground, hut gone are the candles and the spangles. Carl is a medicine man dealing in cures for all mortal ills. I watched the old warrior work one night. In the middle of his story he noticed a small boy with genuine toothache. In a minute he had slopped his show and got the kiddie in a corner. Out from his box came a little dentist's looking-glass, and into the aching molar went some of his cure. "How much?" asked the mother, And Carl laughed. "Nothing, ma'am, nothing; but if it starts to ache again bring him round and I will put some more till" "Monty" Somor may be right in his dislike of the itinerant showman and the rest of the gypsies. I am not going to argue the point with him, but I know that a show where you can only buy things you can got in any shop in your home suburb can't hold a candle to the old show. At least not from the kiddies' point of view. Tho war and the high cost of living may ho responsible, but I know that 10 years ago any healthy child could get deliciously bilious for 2s. Now it can't be done under 10s."

I had tried often times searching for immigration records, or American Navy records for Carl, and so I requested the help of the head of Shellharbour City Museum to aid me in my search. She was able to find a Gaol record for Carl in my own area of the Illawarra. Carl had been arrested for boarding a train without purchasing an adequate ticket. It listed his home address as 131 Macquarie Street Sydney, said his hair was red, said he was an American with a ship tattoo on his right forearm and a heart with an arrow through it on his left forearm. It said his occupation was a showman and came here aboard the 'Aleain' in 1896.

However, we were unable to find any records of that ship and I hit the 'brick wall' of Ancestry research, that is until, I decided to look into someone mentioned in an obituary that mentioned Carl. The obituary was for 'Henry Lawrence Drayton' and mentioned him as being Carl and his Wife Sarah's Nephew. Upon looking into this I found the website 'Wikitree' and free online family tree, where this Henry Lawrence Drayton was uploaded to. Through this I learned all about Car's Wife, 'Sarah Rachael Parker' and her heritage. But I also found Carl's obituary, as he died in 1919 of Spanish Influenza.

It was here I learned that Carl, the name he went by, was not his name. He was John Joseph Franks. This led to me finding another obituary posted for him by his sister, Margaret who had married a James Hassall (see how complicated family genealogy can be?) and another Margaret. Margaret Petersen, his Mother! The questions buzzed, had his whole family migrated to Australia from America too?

Searching into his Mother, I found she had been married to a Carl Julius Franke. Who died in Adelaide, who's father was Samuel Franke, who's Father was a Johann Gottlieb Franke, who had fled Germany during the 'Dresden Uprising' in 1856 to come to Australia and had been an editor of the German-Austrlian magazine 'The Germania' in Melbourne. So, it seemed that Carl was not an American at all, but an imposter! Did his closest friends and family know? Was it all part of his showman persona? As I write this blog over 100 years later, I don't know, and don't know if I ever will. But I often wonder of his showman's life. What was he like? Was he a dubious character like some of the people he seemed to share his life with? Was it just his way of getting through life and making money? Or did he love the attention of being a showman, the performance aspect? I may never know but my research continues, only recently finding another recently uploaded article on trove detailing more of his train arrest and why he was heading down to Wollongong. He was going to the Albion Park (where I grew up!) show in 1904. Was he to perform? Was he going for the day out? Did he get to perform or did being arrested stop him?

These were all questions I pondered as we walked up the stairs and along the ramp overlooking Tamarama as we continued along the coastal walk towards Coogee.

As we walked the slight incline, I could feel my calves and thighs tighten and could feel myself struggling. As we reached the top I asked my Wife if we could stop for a little, explaining that my legs were feeling tired, unusual for me, and she suggested I might still be recovering from my recent really bad cold which she believed was the flu. I said it could be, even though it had been gone for maybe a week now I'd had a lump appear under my left armpit, and I thought that it could be my lymph node swelling as my body fought off the sickness. But I also commented on the tiredness, saying it reminded me of the third and final attempt to hike up Mount Jellore, as my legs began to cramp and I felt tired and later on was diagnosed with my Leukemia.

"Well go to a doctor then!" My Wife snapped at me. But I didn't want to, afraid of anything being wrong, as early in the week my Father had told me a lump on his neck had been diagnosed as a cancer bringing back some trauma.

As I rested my legs and drank some water (in case it was just that I was a bit dehydrated) I looked out over Tamarama beach, trying to envisage in my mind how it looked and trying to image Carl Franks going on about his life here. I wondered what I shared with Carl, what traits or genes had been passed on. Was it from Carl that through my earlier years I had a love of the theatrics, doing drama throughout school with the dreams of being an actor? The one thing I knew for sure is we shared a taste for stout.

We pressed on with a short walk around the bend and we were already at Bronte Beach.

We made our way down towards the beach, pointing out one lone guy going along with a metal detector. I said I wonder what artifacts or remnants of Wonderland City people had found or discarded over the years. Occasionally we had to swap sides and start walking to the right-hand side of the path, dodging tourists who were unfamiliar with Australia's 'walking on the left side' conventions. We crossed along the path alongside the beach, following the path up past the shops further up a one-way road alongside a rock wall.

As we reached the top my nose began to drip, and I mentioned that I might not be fully over my cold. 
"It's just the sea air." My Wife said.
Ahead of us was Waverly Cemetery.

However before continuing I walked back along the top of the rock wall, looking at the view back North where we had come from.

We walked through Colga reserve, having a quick look at the Japanese sculpture that was there. The path split in two, with a structured walkway left along the coast or heading right, into the cemetery. I told my Wife I didn't think the walk through the cemetery would lead us along the coastal track, and so we followed the boardwalk.

I told my Wife I always liked Graveyard, which is probably a morbid thing to say. But I had grown up down the street from a Graveyard and as an avid 'Legend of Zelda' fan said in those games you often have to go into graveyards. My Wife said she thought the graveyard was the reason I had wanted to come, assuming someone related to me was buried there, but I told her that Carl had died in Melbourne and that I didn't know where he was buried or if he still had a remaining grave. (A great site for Graves and Ancestry research is the website 'Find a Grave'). We continued around and my Wife pointed out the 'stacked stones' I hate. 

"Oh, you me cairns." I told her.
"Don't legitamise them." She replied. "Aren't they really bad?"
"They're pretty hated among certain hikers for disrupting the environment." I replied.

We continued around and I looked back in order to ger a good photo of he bit that reminded me of a amphitheatre.

As we passed the cemetery we came across Clovelly Bowling Club, and we continued along Ocean st past the sportsfield where my Wife pointed out a seahawk that had landed on a streetlight.

From across Clovelly Bay we got our first view of Clovelly Surf Lifesaving Club.

In the far distance I could see where the manmade structures stopped and I commented that it might be the Royal National Park as it looked a lot like the Otford to Bundeena Coastal walk.

"It's probably Cronulla." My Wife replied, and looking at Google maps, it was actually probably Malabar Headland National Park.

As we continued the walk down towards the Life Saving Club, there was a young boy selling drinks and snacks. 

"That's the kid the council tried to shut down for selling without a permit and earning too much." My Wife said as the young kid served a customer.
"I think I remember seeing that on the news." I replied. Assuming the community had rallied in support of him, and he had been allowed to continue his business pursuits.

We crossed down by Clovelly Beach looking out at the bay.

We made our way around the pool where the path began to have a slight incline again following the path around Little Coogee Bay and getting our first view of Gordons Bay. Here there was two tracks, one going right, staying as a concrete path and one heading left, a little dirt track leading down to the water. We followed the left path down towards the water finding it just continued on straight into the water, but there was a little track on our right we followed two people heading up. We followed and it cut up under a railing back onto the footpath. Here we walked up some stairs and I turned around to get a better shot of Gordons Bay.

My feet began to get a bit sore and my legs still felt a bit tight. I commented that I probably needed a new pair of joggers for walking, as I had the pair I was wearing since my second attempt at summiting 'The Castle' back in 2017.

"We're almost there, it's like, literally around the corner." My Wife told me as we now began heading down stairs, towards the beach at Gordons Bay.

"I wonder if the water raises all the way up to where the boats are?" I asked out loud, not really expecting an answer.

The path began up again and we pushed uphill, walking past a few slower people along the way. A sign along the way acknowledged we were on Gadigal Country, an Aboriginal clan that was part of Eora Country (not that I would have known any of this without looking it up, as Aboriginal history was barely taught growing up, when I went through school people were still calling Uluru; 'Ayers' Rock'). We passed along the outskirts of houses or buildings people reaching a green field or reserve, walking past a group who were sitting up a PA system that sounded like some sort of Buddhist religious music (maybe they were about to pray, or dance, I have no idea). We continued, getting the first view of our final beach, Coogee. I commented that it looked like 'Thirroul', (but I was actually thinking of Austinmer Beach). I saw a plaque that I walked up to read, finding it was a memorial to Australian's impacted by the Bali Bombings of 2002. As I turned away from reading the list of names, saying that the act of terrorism made me sad in its cowardness, I noticed an Ibis eating spilled Corn Chips off of the ground. "Bin Chicken!" I exclaimed, as tragic a word and its context might be, they have become much loved birds in Australia.

We made our way down to the final beach, eager to tuck into our sweet pastries as it was getting later in the afternoon and our stomachs began to rumble. I noticed a peculiar looking tree, that looked like some sort of pine based on the leaves, which I couldn't help but take a photo of, in an attempt to have it identified.

We walked down to the grass field surrounding Coogee Beach, near the barbeques, and sat to eat our sweet pastries. Sitting in the shade, the wind began to blow and we began to feel the chill. We ate two of the 3 pastries before filling up. I said we could put the third away and have it later. My Wife mentioned the bakery had a sign to consume within 3 hours (we had already had them in my backpack longer than that). I suggested that it was probably just to cover themselves as they might contain egg or something. My Wife asked if I was good to turn around and head home (or just jump in one of the nearby buses to head back to Bondi Junction). I was adamant to walk back, but first said I had to walk to the far end of the beach to truly feel like I completed the walk. My Wife groaned. I told her she didn't need to come with me if she wanted to wait. She said she would come with me and we dodged our way through the crowds past the rainbow walkway where I pointed to a sign saying, "racists not welcome".

"Oh good, Pauline Hanson can't come here." My Wife jested. We walked to the far end to an ANZAC memorial, with the path continuing on South to God-knows-where. I said that you could probably just continuing walking around to many beaches, but the walk was Bondi to Coogee, and we had done the walk just for me to visit Tamarama. So, we set off on the walk back, the sun glaring into our eyes as we travelled at a faster pace back to Bondi, (passing a group of British men at Clovelly who were joking out loud they had been sent to 'the colonies' for stealing a loaf of bread), reaching Bondi beach late in the afternoon. We found the bus stop and travelled to the depot, making our way to the station from where the bus dropped us off as the sun was beginning to set. Arriving back at Town Hall station and quickly stopping in at the toilets at World Square, my Wife asked if I was still OK to drive home. I said I was, and we began the drive home in the dark, while I contemplated what further information I might unlock in the future about John Joseph 'Carl' Franks.

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Thanks for reading! - Steven

Tarbourie Village to Termeil Lake

 This walk takes place on Yuin Country

Having done the Saddleback Mountain walk, the weekend before I had already planned to head down and camp and walk-up Pigeon House with my friend Tristan. However the Tuesday after doing Saddleback we had a really cold snap where I could barely find the energy to get dressed and ready for work that morning, due to the cold and the idea of waking up, having to pack down a tent that was covered with frost, after spending a night freezing, walking up it, then traveling home, and to have to unpack my tent to let it dry so it didn't get moldy didn't sound like much fun. So I messaged Tristan and told him this, telling him I just couldn't really hand the cold since my cancer treatment.

He agreed, but I said I would just spend the night at his Sunday night anyway, we could relax and have a few beers and get up super early Monday morning to drive down.

However, Thursday at work I began getting fevers and chills and came down with a severe cold. I did a Rapid Antigen Test for Covid (tested negative) before having Friday off sick and spending all day, blowing my nose into tissues and playing the new Zelda game (Tears of the Kingdom).

I waited to hopefully recover by Sunday, where I was still sick with the cold, but informed Tristan I was still keen to do the walk every with my cold (though I would have definitely preferred to have not been sick).

I headed to his place, and we chatted about a bunch of things, while I continued to blow my nose. He looked on at me in disbelief that I still wanted to go, saying that we could just go another time. I told him I really wanted to do something steep to test my lung capacity before my next lung test (as I had lung damage from the chemo). We chatted into the night, having a barbecue and some beers (Tristan much more than me and my one long neck stout). I informed Tristan that I had also been constipated all day and had really been hoping to poo during the day before I had come to his. It became time to go to bed and luckily, I was able to make myself go to the toilet right as Tristan set me up a blow-up mattress on his floor, and I laid down to try and sleep. Of course, that night there were extreme winds and the howling gale did nothing to help me sleep. I cuddled under my blanket with my jumper and beanie still on, shivering and blowing my nose, trying to daydream off to the land of sleep with no avail. As I tossed and turned, I realised the mattress was slowly deflating and I was no pressed against the tiles below and even colder. I checked my phone seeing it was 2am and the alarm was set for 5:30am. I grabbed the blanket and pillow and moved over onto Tristan's couch, where either because it was leather, or because I was unwell, I began to overheat and sweat through the rest of the night with some broken sleep.

That morning having heard about my night's sleep and with the gusty winds blowing, Tristan seemed like he really wasn't in the mood to head down. I told him I was still fine to, ever ready for the adventure as he told me that I had 'nothing to prove'. I told him if he didn't want to go we could bail, but I was still fine to go. He seemed to reluctantly agree to go, telling me that he would be pissed if we drove all that way and I got down there and was like "I can't do it". I reassured him that wouldn't be the case, or I would bail beforehand and that I would suffer through it. He also said if there were any fallen trees, he would turn us back because he wasn't going to be, in his words "One of those fuckwits who doesn't listen to the warning signs". 

As I hopped into Tristan's car and felt his seat warmers on my back, I told him how good it felt after a crappy night sleep and that my back was pretty sore. He looked at me with completely disdain before once more asking if I was sure I wanted to go. I assured him I did, and we finally set off south towards Pigeon House Mountain.

As we began our drive down towards Milton I started off chatty but, found Tristan not overly responsive I eventually dialed it back assuming he wasn't in the mood or was still just tired. I removed my beanie allowing my head some fresh air after having slept in it all night my scalp felt a little tender. I began to have microsleeps drifting in and out of consciousness. As we approached Nowra I told Tristan about a chicken shop on the Northbound Lane that I had always seen for years but had never stopped at, soon we passed 'Chooksy's' and Tristan said it was quite good there and I should one day stop in. I told him there was also a hotdog place somewhere further South that I always saw and needed to one day stop in at too. We approached the new building of Nowra bridge, our first time seeing it since it's construction and we openly questioned what they planned to do with the old bridge that was now closed for access.

I sort of dozed out again until we were approaching Milton and Tristan made a comment about not being able to see Pigeon House yet. I let him know that Didthul was the Indigenous name for Pigeon House, and that it meant 'Woman's Breast', which I said it looked more like than a Pigeon House, telling him that it was named that by Captain Cook. We turned towards Pigeon House, at 'The Heritage Bakery' in Milton, telling Tristan that the pies there were pretty average.

As we drove the roads out to Pigeon House, Tristan again made a comment about the extreme winds while he pointed out the roads covered with leaves and debris. I told him it would be fine and I started to get excited by the walk, blowing my nose and beginning to get prepped. 

We rounded a corner as I took some photos in preparation for my blog post, but while I was looking out the window when Tristan said "Here's something you can get a photo of."

Tristan pulled over and death stared me. "You didn't check?" He asked.
"Why would I check? I never check I just assume walks are open."

We hopped out of the car for some fresh air, and I told him we could just find another local hike to do seeing as we had come all this way. I still had the 'All Trails' app installed on my phone since downloading it during my Saddleback Mountain walk. Walks started popping up all over the place and I named one and Tristan quickly put in the address to that and said that was the one we were going to do while I continued to read him more options. "No, we're already going there." He said and we began to drive to Tarbourie Village.

I commented that everything was trying to stop us doing Pigeon House and that we should have listened to the signs, from the cold to me getting sick, to feeling constipated, to the extreme winds, to not getting any sleep and freezing all night, and finally actually having the walk closed.

We followed a dirt road I had never been down before in my life and soon ended up at Tarbourie Village pulling up in a suburban street, with a sand road that the app said not to go down, instead telling us to begin our walk by heading right past a gate and behind the houses.

While doing a little research (mostly into Indigenous History in Meroo) I learned that Meroo National Park was relatively new, as it had previously been State Forest, but after the severe damage from the bushfires it was made a national park in an attempt to help regenerate the land.

I noticed a house on our right had placed up a constructed artwork (I suppose?), of Abalone Shells. I mentioned something about how I thought harvesting too much abalone was illegal and that I wouldn't be showcasing it off on my property. I then asked Tristan if he had ever tried an abalone. He hadn't and I replied that we might try it one day.

Tristan turned around as I was way behind him, he gave me a 'why are you being so slow' speech and I told him it was a 5km walk I was just taking my time and enjoying the scenery.

There seemed to be a lot of trails branching from the path, and I just kept pointing and being like 'let's go down that way' like it didn't matter. Tristan got anal and grumpy with me, once more bringing up the constant bushwhacking and inability to find the right trail of when we walked Mount Jellore.

Tristan made us stop and took out his phone looking at the All Trails app, making sure we took the right ways.

We came to a first proper fork in the path and the app seemed to tell us we weren't on the right path anyway, so we followed the left path heading more towards the beach, which seemed to be the right way to go.

The app continued to tell us both we were way off the path, and I wondered if it was simply our GPS. "Why would both of ours tell us we are off the path in the same place?" Tristan questioned. We shrugged and continued.

I commented that this was less of a hiking trail and more of like a local beach track, similar to the local ones I would take Orla on a walk through over at Windang Beach near the area I live. Which I stated I would never blog about.

The track soon veered left and opened us up on the beach with a view of Crampton Island on our left.

Tristan facing south towards Stokes Island

I wondered where we were on a map (checking Google Maps on my phone) which is how I learned the name of these Islands. I thought it would be cool to walk out to Crampton Island and explore it, but commented that Stokes Island didn't really seem like an Island, more just some rocks sticking out from the beach.

I questioned to Tristan if we should go back and try and find the path, but he was already walking down the beach. I said we would walk down and see what was around the bend and if there was no sign of the walk we could head back to the track and take another way.

As we continued down, we noticed the built wooden staircase leading back up, and assumed we were on the right track, and if not, we would follow it regardless.

Smile!

We walked up the stairs as Tristan received a work phone call. I continued ahead as I reached the grass picnic area on top, I headed towards the table before noticing a big Kangaroo eyeing me off from across the field.

"I'll fight ya!"

I continued to the picnic bench, keeping an eye on him as he soon hopped away into the bush, I sat down and waited for Tristan to finish his work phone call.

There seemed to be a path to our right (facing away from the beach), I sat enjoying the view over the water, as Tristan finished his work phone call and approached me. "Sorry about the work call dude." He said. 
"Nah, you're alright." I replied, thinking to myself that the way I actually speak was so much more 'Aussie' in vernacular than the way I processed thoughts in my mind or how I write.

I told him that I thought there was a path along the right side of the bushes, but that I was not sure it was the track. He shrugged, saying that we would follow it anyway, and suddenly our roles had flipped and he was the one who didn't care if we were going the right way.

Just as we reached the shade of the trees in the image above the track split left and right. I looked down the track on the left and could see a sign pointing the way to Sunburnt Beach Camping Area.

I didn't even notice the Kangaroo, blending into the scenery until he started hopping down the track and out of sight. I mentioned to Tristan that when we had looked at the All Trails app, the track seemed to skirt around, and never go to the campground, so we continued on along the left trail.

Tristan began to perk up and get a bit more talkative, and we began chatting before the trail came out onto a road right in front of a toilet block. Tristan was psyched to get to do a poo as I wandered around in circles with a walking stick, that I had picked up prior to first reaching the beach.

Nothing more exciting than a photo of a road

When Tristan finished his business, I said that I thought we had to walk the way away from the camp ground once more, before Tristan got out the app and started saying that we needed to follow the road down to the campground. I didn't particularly care and didn't need to argue so I just started walking down the road with him.

The camping spots we walked past looked like ok spots, besides the lack of grass, as I'm not a fan of pitching a tent on rocky, hard soil. Tristan began another work call as I followed a path along wandering by all the different camp sites. As we approached the beach once more the path curved around to continue South, and I noticed a little path down to the beach that I decided to quickly walk down for a look while Tristan was on the phone (assuming the path to the beach was not the right way).

As I was halfway down the path I stopped in my tracks, noticing a Swamp Wallaby in front of me.

It saw me and quickly hopped away into the scrub. I looked out over the beach for a while before turning to head back to Tristan and noticing he was right behind me.

"Did you see that Swamp Wallaby?" He asked.

I told him I did and that I thought this track wasn't the right way, but he said we should walk down it anyway, again swapping who cares about which is the right way and who doesn't.

We walked along the sand as Tristan asked me how my mental health was going, aware of my recent issues with anxiety (which he witnessed first-hand at his, the night before, when his neighbour started chopping wood and the sound triggered an anxious response from me) and depression.

We continued discussing it while he gave me advice about what he thought while asking me questions as we crossed the sand and followed the rocks around the headland, admiring all the rockpools, bubble weed and rock formations.

"What's this gross orange stuff?" I asked.

Tristan shared his opinion that some of my depression may be stemming from career dissatisfaction and asked if I would ever get back into doing Bush Regeneration again. I told him I would never get a job doing it, because I would be unwilling to use most chemicals (such as Glyphosate), since my cancer. He told me that if I told him that, there would be no way he would hire me to do bush regen work. I said I believed you could do regen without spraying, as I found it to not be that effective. I referred to my own time working and talking about spraying things and having the glyphosate just fasten the lifecycle to go to seed faster and how we would spray massive areas and it wouldn't help at all. I said it felt like just spraying toxins around with no purpose compared to when I had worked with Green Army at Killalea State Park, drilling and filling African Olive which was an actually effective treatment. I said I wasn't against the use of chemicals that could be necessary, in that fashion.

Tristan began defending the use and saying that it just needed to be done right and the right chemicals needed to be used. We rounded the bend, and as I was watching my footing Tristan pointed out some Dolphins swimming off-shore.

He commented that it was a nice day and that seeing Dolphins was a positive. I agreed saying it had worked out well, exploring a place we never would have come to otherwise and that it was probably for the best to not be walking up Pigeon House while sick.

As we reached the sand I noticed a little lagoon in the distance, but also saw a staircase off the beach out the corner of my eye.

As we followed the path up, we assumed that the track we were following would now head back, as we passed a sign facing away from us I turned around to see we were at Termeil Beach.

As we followed on I noticed a tree with orange berries and tried to remember some of my plant knowledge, asking Tristan if it was Wombat Berry? He said it was a 'pittosporum undulatum'. He began saying they were a weed, well, not truly a weed, that some people liked them because they were returning places where they were back to rainforest, but he then began to start going on about how they create a monoculture and how it can be bad because nothing else grows and you will just get areas of them and nothing else growing. With my lack of sleep, I felt my eyes begin to glaze over and told him he would have to fill me in on it later because I wasn't in the right place to absorb any knowledge.

We came upon a information sign about Meroo National Park and camping at Termeil Point that we stopped to read. I commented that it would be cool to see some Middens which brought on the topic about me adding about the land on which the walk I blog about takes place. I said about all the different tribes and that there were Wodi Wodi in Dharawal and how I sometimes found it hard to be sure so I just acknowledged the main 'country' that the walk took place on, lest I stuff up and do the wrong thing.

We continued past some more campsites on our right, with some people camping, as I mentioned something about my blog.

"You're blogging about this?" Tristan asked, assuming that I wouldn't be.

"Yeah." I simply responded.

"Won't be a very long blog." He said.

"Good." I replied. "They don't all need to be, sometimes it's nice not to have to write so much."

As we continued, I could see bright blue from the left corner of my eyes and noticed a beautiful lake to my left and realised that must have led in to what I had thought was the lagoon.

As we continued on the trees cleared and I could see a path down to the lake. I asked Tristan if he wanted to walk down and he agreed, as we approached, we noticed a big rock, but from the distance we couldn't quite tell what it was and I asked if it was a Ram's head, before reaching closer and seeing that it was just a rock.

We stopped and admired the view of the lake that was quiet, serene and just peaceful. The wind was gentle here after a short while I told Tristan we would get a photo of the two of us, placing my phone down against the base of a tree and putting on a timer for 10 seconds.

I commented that it reminded me of some of the locations they would be placed at, in the survival TV series 'Alone'. Tristan mentioned he had been meaning to watch it. I began talking about how the show works and told him that if he was going to watch the recently aired Australian version, to at least wait until after watching the currently released US versions (general consensus among fans if that the Australian one was disappointing in comparison, and I didn't want him to be turned off). We made our way back uphill to the road and continued our way back, passing the last of the campgrounds.

Walking along I pointed out at least 3 Glossy Black-Cockatoo's sitting in the casuarina trees. Tristan got instantly excited saying that they were rare to see. I commented that the information sign we had based not too long ago had said they were in the area. He replied that just because they were in the area didn't mean we would necessarily see them, which to be fair is sound logic as you don't often see all the local animals on a walk.

I felt like Tristan's mood had greatly improved which made me feel a bit better about not being able to do the walk we planned, and feeling bad for having him drive so far.

We came upon a sign letting us know we were on the Tabourie Village Track, and we were glad that we were going the right way.

We continued the track along with Tristan at one point pointing out a Sundew.

"Drosera?" I asked, the name popping in my mind.
"I don't know the species name." Tristan said.

"Yeah, there's heaps of them at Barren Ground." I told him, before looking up and seeing that there were heaps here too.

"Looks like an infection." Tristan said.
"The Last of Us." I replied.

"Never played it."
"Neither, but I watched the TV Show. It was ok. Nothing special. If you've seen 'The Walking Dead' or any other Zombie type show or movie ever it was pretty much the same (yes I know they're not Zombies, but like, they totally are really).

We rounded the bend and the path began to get all muddy and sloppy. I looked up and saw the path ahead was covered with water.

"Damn." I said, as Tristan simply walked along a path that was to the left of it that I hadn't noticed.

Soon we appeared at the fork in the path before the beach were we had initially turned left and found ourselves coming out from the right side of that, knowing it was just the straight track back to the street where Tristan had parked.

As we got into the car for the long ride home, I commented that we could just do Pigeon House in July.

"I'm not doing it in the middle of Winter." Tristan responded.
"It's already the middle of Winter." I retorted.
"It's June." He said, "The start of Winter."
"What about August then?" I asked.
"I've got a lot on in August."
"Well, I'm overseas for the whole of September in Iceland." I said, with us agreeing Pigeon House would have to wait until October.

I was a little upset, wanting to do a pretty steep hike to test out my lung capacity before my next lung test (having lung damage from my chemotherapy), and I started to think of other steep challenging walks I could try to do before I had that test.

As we headed home we drove along the Princes Highway past Lake Tabourie where I commented that it looked like a beautiful spot. I told Tristan that travelling along the south coast reminded me of my childhood, reminiscing of the times we would travel down and stop in at those old fish and chip shops with the plastic strip curtains and how Dad would either buy us a Paddlepop or a Bubble O Bill ice cream. (I have a particular fond memory of the now discontinued Paddlepop Mud Puddle while spending time at Sussex Inlet).

He said it sounded like a good childhood. To which I simply replied, "Some of it."

We continued North past Dolphin Point and Burill Lake, both beautiful, and I questioned how we got so far South, saying the drive from Milton towards Pigeon House and then to Tarbourie Village had not felt like so long a drive. We finally came to Ulladulla as I looked out for 'Funland Ulladulla' having more good memories of going there as a kid. As we approached Milton I mentioned that there was always a big statue of a Dinosaur that always excited me as a kid (as a massive Dinosaur nerd). I wondered if it was still there, and it was, and as we drove past it I found that the memory of it was more impressive than the actual thing.

"Is that it?" Tristan questioned, "Doesn't look very good."
I agreed, but still have fond memories of just being excited by it as a kid.

I didn't take a photo and was unable to find a photo anywhere online of it. I convinced Tristan to stop in and get a pie at Milton's heritage bakery. "They're pretty average but it's one of those places you just have to get a pie from, like Robinson Pie Shop." I told him.

We went in and I had a look at their pie options, hoping for a chilli pie. None of the options stood out to be and with a price tag of $7 I decided against buying one while Tristan bought one with a coffee. As he sat to eat it I asked how it was. "Pretty average."

The more he ate the more he seemed to like it though, saying it was probably worth that price tag.

We continued home as I felt how sick and tired I was, as I had not been paying attention to my body on the walk. As Tristan dropped me on the street before pulling into his driveway, so I could jump in my car and go home to nap, he thanked me for the walk and said we would catch up soon, I agreed and said we would go see Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny that was due to come out at the movies that week, before getting in my car and driving home with very tired eyes. 

I went in to work the next day and had to go home before lunch because I was just too sick and rundown. I managed to go in for the rest of the week but my cold continues even as I finish typing the end of this blog post on the next Sunday, but I can feel myself coming through the other side of it, and I look forward to a steep harder walk to test my lungs before my test.

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Thanks for reading! - Steven