Kata Tjuta

A striking group of domed rocks huddled together, Kata Tjuta is 35km west of the Rock and home to the Valley of the Winds walk which winds through the spectacular Mars-like landscape surrounding Kata Tjuta. The views from this challenging walk are breathtaking and well worth the effort. 

Upon the completion of the loop, I follow the short walk into Walpa Gorge. It is like entering an ancient temple crafted by nature. Inside, the rocky track gently rises to a seasonal stream, passing rare plants and ending at a grove of spearwood.

With the sun descending in the winter sky, I drive to the Kata Tjuta sunset viewing area, the place to experience a stunning Kata Tjuta sunset. I follow the camel tracks into the shrubland for a bit of solitude and to contemplate the domes changing from pink to deep red as the sun goes down.

Distance: 114.5km

Uluru

An early morning wander around the shrubland surrounding Talinguru Nyakunytjaku, the main sunrise viewing area for Uluru, to find the perfect spot to capture the sunrise. At dawn, the first rays of sunlight appear over the sand dunes. The sun rises and the rock comes to life as light and shade dance across the ripples on its surface.

After a spot of breakfast at the Cultural Centre, I follow the Liru Walk to meet at the base of the climbing point for a ranger-guided walk to Kantju Gorge. This is where the Mala people camped when they arrived at Uluru in the beginning. There are examples of Anangu rock art along the way and the tour ends at the sheer vertical walls and profound peacefulness of Kantju Gorge.

I continue to explore the natural and cultural beauty of Uluru by escaping the crowds on the Base Walk which circumnavigates the rock. The walk takes a meandering journey through acacia woodlands and grassed claypans to get up close and personal with the rock and follow in the footsteps of the ancestral beings that shaped the landscape. For this is a sacred place, the homeland of the oldest, most continuous human presence on Earth.

After seeing so many selfish people wobble and crawl their way up Uluru, it was lovely to see, back at the Cultural Centre, that many more people signed the "I will not climb" book to respect the wishes of the traditional owners.

Distance: 85.5km

Kings Canyon Rim Walk

The ancient red canyon walls soar hundreds of metres above Kings Creek to a plateau of rocky domes. The Rim Walk begins with a strenuous, steep climb to the top of the Canyon, where I am treated to spectacular views from the Canyon Rim. About half way along, the route descends from the rim to the Garden of Eden, a lush pocket of ferns and prehistoric cycads around a tranquil pool. The track then climbs back to the rim to wind through a swarm of giant beehive domes: weathered sandstone outcrops, whilst skirting the canyon for a final time before descending to the carpark.

The Kings Canyon impresses with its scale and raw beauty. I am keen to experience a little more of the canyon from a different perspective , so I follow the Kings Creek Walk. This short stroll along the rocky creek bed to a raised platform (which was closed due to flood damage) with views of the towering canyon rim.

On the way back to Kings Creek Station, I drop in to the the Karrke Aboriginal Experience. Christine and Peter, who live in a small Aboriginal community called Wanmarra (population of 10), explain their ancient culture and connectedness to the land through their weapons, musical instruments, jewellery, bush tucker, medicines and the evolution and meaning of their language.

I finally return to the bush camping experience of Kings Creek Station. The cosy safari-style cabin, pitched among the desert oaks, is my home for the night. From the comfort of my cabin, I try a spot of night photography...

Distance: 83.5km

Grand Canyon Track

This spectacular 5km circuit plunges from Evans Lookout into the valley below. The well-shaded track meanders through luscious native vegetation of ferns and golden wattles, and remains close to Greaves Creek before looping back to the road. En-route I pick up a French companion who is here to do a veterinary placement in Koala Hospital in Port Macquarie!

After dropping the Frenchy at the train station, I make my way to the photogenic Empress Falls. Buried deep in the Valley of the Waters, the creek comes out of the slot in the cliff and tumbles down a series of cliffs to a sandy pool. I retrace my steps back to the carpark and head to Penrith for a beer at the friendly Rusty Penny Brewery and the quirky Casey's Brewery.

Distance: 81.7km

Paluma Range National Park

I venture off the Bruce Highway to explore the Paluma Range National Park, the southern gateway to the Wet Tropics World Heritage Centre. This glorious parallel universe, running alongside the Bruce Highway from Ingham to, my base for tonight, Townsville.

Distance: 168.0 km

Little Petra to Petra

Our final day of hiking takes us into Petra proper. Following sandy tracks and a few camels down Wadi Ghurab, we pass the stone age village of Al-Beidha. Wherever we look now there are signs we are entering the heart of the ancient city. Following an old trading route, we arrive through the rarely used ‘Back Door’, but I still expect our reverie of solitude to be broken.

Unlike the tourist-congested main entrance, the back is completely empty. There are no gates, and only a small ticket office. After walking through wilderness and empty desert landscape, I approach our transition to rose-hued World Heritage territory with nervous anticipation. There is always the fear that that such a monumental site will not live up to the hype.

Skirting round the final mountain on a natural rock terrace, with vibrant red and pink-coloured cliffs tower above us like a melting sunset, the inevitable crowds begin to appear. Guides race past on donkeys to collect more tourists whilst yelling "no brakes" with perfect comic timing. Just beyond, we round a sharp bend and Ad Deir, or the Monastery, Petra’s largest monument, appears in front of us like a mirage. This unfathomable 147-foot-tall façade chiseled into the mountainside is all the more remarkable when we learn that it dates back to the first century BC.

Descending an easy, downhill route past canyons and sun-baked plains, we see the first signs of Petra’s mass tourism, something that had eluded us for the past four days. There is a real sense of pilgrimage entering Petra on foot. Petra is a marvel and the views and scenery you take in when getting here on foot are worth the blisters and sunburn. Wearily we continue along the ancient Colonnaded Street through the centre of the Ancient City. Too tired to explore, we simply exit past ‘The Treasury’ and though the famous ‘Siq’. Petra’s masterpiece can wait.

Despite a hot shower beckoning, it would almost be a crime to miss the oldest bar in the world. Occupying a 2000-year-old Nabataean rock tomb, the historic Cave Bar is where we choose to celebrate the end of our journey with a cold beer and some freshly cooked pub grub.

Distance: 19.37 km

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Ras Al-Feid to Little Petra

Another early rise as today is our longest day of hiking. With no tent to pack away, we are on the move in no time. After a few false starts, we find our way out of the wadi and begin to climb the rocky sandstone ridge line. Our walk unfurls ahead of us: ochre hillsides stippled with juniper where camels roam free. Once through the windy col, the high point of the day, our path drops down to a wide ledge that follows one of the many layers of rock that form the contours of these sandstone mountains.

Walking through this ancient landscape of semi-nomadic Bedouin encampments, goats nibbling at sparse greenery and signs of Nabatean civilisation scattered all around, you sense the long, enduring history of this land. Descending the last slopes, we walk on tracks through sparse barley fields, a reminder that here is the southernmost tip of the Fertile Crescent.

Bedouin goat-hair tents continue to decorate the Jordanian hillsides as they have done for millennia. As we pass them by, we are greeted with friendly waves and the occasional snarling dog. One kind couple invite us in for tea and a chat, where our eyes are opened to the lifestyle of the modern day Bedouin people.

Approaching Little Petra there are signs of increasing human habitation of sheep pens and small agricultural plots. A short, sharp scramble up the side of a wadi takes us into Little Petra. Lined with rock-cut façades, this is where traders on the Spice and Silk Roads would rest their camels and pay the taxes that made Petra rich. From here we stumble to our desert camp, the hillside beyond decorated with lanterns, where I sink gratefully into my comfortable bed.

Distance: 31.04 km

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Wadi Barwas to Ras Al-Feid

We set off in the morning across rock-strewn steppe, studded with acacia trees and spiky shrubs, towards the seemingly impenetrable barrier of the Shara Mountains, the sun casting highlights over their serrated peaks. In the distance, we see an old graded donkey starting more steeply up the hillside, gradually we ascend the gentle slope, popping in and out of Wadi Barwas, Wadi abu Hamdtha and Wadi al-Jilf to reach the base of the first major climb of our hike along the Jordan Trail.

As it turns out, these mountains are penetrable after all, but we simply cannot find the trail that seemed so clear as we left our camp. After much searching and deliberating, we simply climb up a loose rock ridge through the jagged rocky mountain outcroppings Eventually, our climb joins the trail and we take a break to see the expansive view of Wadi Araba’s wash to the west below. This stunning spectacle of the Rift Valley is our reward for two hours spent scaling the steep mountainside.

The climb is not over though, as we continue along the path up a wide slot following the old bedouin route along well graded switchbacks. The slot widens to the top where you reach the saddle called Ras Naqb Shdeid, offering breathtaking views to the East and West.

For the first time today, we descend - steeply - to the spring-fed Wadi Feid below. Fringed with pink oleander with the magical sound of cascading water in this desiccated landscape, the wadi is a chance for us to rest, replenish our dwindling water supplies and bathe. Reluctantly leaving our idyllic spot, we retrace your steps back and follow Wadi Feid (Wadi of the Floods) upstream under cliffs of bronze splashed with juicy green, dense with vegetation and enormous dragonflies. 

After a hot and weary twelve kilometers of walking, we arrive at our campsite for the night where we find an unoccupied bell tent already pitched. With no camp to build, we watch the sun dip behind the mountain peaks. Exhausted, we slip off early to the tent. With the almost biblical sound of donkeys braying in the distance, sleep came quickly.

Distance: 12.38 km

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Feynan Ecolodge to Wadi Barwas

We leave Feynan Eco Lodge during Bedouin rush hour. Here, we have swapped the honking horns and revving engines of cars, buses and motorbikes for the much more pleasant bleating and braying of goats and donkeys. Beyond the buzzing vibrancy of the canyon lies Wadi Feynan, once the heart of an ancient copper-mining operations. As the valley opens out further, we pass some Roman ruins en route to the Wadi Malaga campsite.

At the base of the mountains, near Wadi Malaga, we take a break in the shade of a large acacia tree. During our downtime, we meet two cheeky kids and their large flock of goats. Despite the language barrier, they make it clear that we cannot take photos of them. Respectfully, we put our cameras away. After exchanging limited pleasantries and sharing our sweets with them, they wander off. As they do, we catch the cheeky little buggers filming us! :D

With the rising mountains to the East, we gradually ascend the gentle slope to head south on a mixture of 4×4 tracks and footpaths. We pass on the eastern side of smaller hills Jabal al-Hamra, Jabal Mahzaf and eventually set up camp on the edge of Wadi Barwas, tucked behind Jabal Feid. With no light pollution in the clear desert sky, the setting of the sun dictates our bedtime.

Distance: 13.26 km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2301382796

Dana to Feynan Ecolodge

A three-hour drive along the Desert Highway gives us time to finish any last minute jobs for our trek to the Rose City of Petra, some 60km of tough, hilly walking southwards. Our starting point is the 15th-century stone village of Dana situated precariously on the edge of a large gorge. From our vantage point, we begin to appreciate the diversity of the Jordanian landscape and the challenge that lies ahead...

We leave the village and descend into the Dana Biosphere Reserve’s central valley. Lonely cypress trees give way to Martian-like rock formations. Wadi Dana then becomes to a bone-dry river beds lined with palms. In the shelter of the wadi, we meet several Bedouin families herding their goats back to their camps. As the valley opens out into the rust-hued desert, we eventually arrive at the award winning Feynan Eco Lodge. Our last taste of comfort, before heading out into the wild.

Distance: 14.66 km

https://www.relive.cc/view/2301382526

Time to go home...

In my rearview mirror I see the Auckland skyline as I leave the city along the scenic, pohutukawa-lined Tamaki Drive. As I follow the waterfront hugging stretch of tarmac, I struggle to understand what it is about Auckland that the rest of NZ seems to despise.

I head westwards winding through the Waitakere Ranges Regional Park. I stretch my legs along the Kitekite Track and am rewarded with more beautiful waterfalls. I then head to the beautifully rugged Piha for a spot of lunch. The view of the coast as I drive down Piha Road is spectacular. Sitting proudly near the centre of the beach is Lion Rock. After my last supper, I retrace my route through the Waitakere Ranges Regional Park and head to the airport.

Like a boxer trying to make the fight weight, I have stripped everything down to the minimum, repacked again and again and gifted some things old to make way for the somethings new. Physically, I am finally ready to depart Auckland. Emotionally, I am not ready to leave this wonderful place yet.

After eighteen hours on a plane, I land in Dubai for a short pitstop. Airports are a weird limbo - you are neither in the place you have been, nor in the place you are going. I have been in dozens of nothing places like this. Spent probably days of my life wandering around their bland and manufactured worlds of the same shops, and the same bored people seeing the same boring things. All of this is in stark contrast to NZ.

I loved my time in New Zealand - the people were friendly and the country is beautiful. I have never heard anyone not love their time in this remote and geologically dynamic country bestowed with diverse, often unique landscapes and wildlife. It offered outdoor adventure, spliced with vibrant cultural and culinary experiences, enhanced by a welcoming attitude to visitors. This small country well deserves its reputation as one of the World’s most rewarding travel destinations. So it with sadness that I board my second plane leaving further behind Aotearoa - the 'Land of the Long White Cloud'.

Pinnacles in the Mist

Here's what I love about travel: strangers get a chance to touch your life. Sometimes a single day can bring moments that makes you a different person when you go to sleep - more tender, less jaded - than the one you were when you woke up.

This particular day begins by entering the hidden world of the Kauaeranga Valley, home to the majestic Pinnacles range. From the road end car park, I hike to the swing bridge to cross the Kauaeranga River and follow the track to the Webb Creek – Moss Creek junction. Here I follow the Webb Creek Track, the historic packhorse route used by Kauri Bushmen in 1920s, to Hydro Camp. I steadily climb steps that were cut into rock to make the journey easier for the packhorses during the kauri logging era.

During the lung-bursting climb, I meet two local fellas. Conversation easily flows between us, we talked nonstop about books, films and everything under the sun. We therefore decide to complete the rest of the hike together...

From Hydro Camp junction, we take the Pinnacles Track which climbs and sidles around a hill before following a more open ridge. Occasionally, through the mist, we snatch impressive views down a branch of the Tairua River and the rugged volcanic landforms of Tauranikau and the Pinnacles. A steady climb, steep in places, follows another well constructed stepped track.

We stop for lunch at the Pinnacles Hut staring into the mist at where the Pinnacles should be. Waiting. Hoping for the weather to clear. From the hut, the scramble to the top of the Pinnacles rock formation should have rewarded us with 360° views of the entire Coromandel Peninsula and beyond.

On the summit we meet more disappointed hikers waiting, in vain, for something, anything, to come into view. Nothing ever did, but we passed the time by chatting with an ease of friends who have known each other for years. Subsequently, for the descent our group of three became a group of seven as we are joined by two German guys and an American couple.

We descend back to the Hydro Camp and begin a steady thirty minute climb which leads to a saddle. Along the way we share stories and laughter. At the saddle, the mist lifts for a while to treat us to excellent views down the Kauaeranga Valley to the Hauraki Plains. A little further on, a knoll overlooks the Billygoat Basin. We learn from the local fellas that the first attempt to log this basin was made in the 1880s but was abandoned within a few years as driving logs down the Billygoat Falls proved too destructive. The basin was successfully logged in the 1920s after the construction of the Billygoat incline to bypass the falls, and the use of a steam hauler.

We drop down into Billygoat Basin and continue downhill to the Kauaeranga Valley Road which requires an interesting crossing of the Kauaeranga River to the Tarawaere car park. After hugs and handshakes, we jump in our vehicles and head off, not sad because the day is over, but happy for the rest of the time we spent together.

The Roberts Point Track

I stand in the chill of this beautiful wintry day - clear skies, warm genial sun, crisp pure air - with a wry smile on my face. Below the stunning Franz Josef Glacier, opposite sheer rock walls with velvety waterfalls draped down their faces, but none of the lower mountain peaks are visible, least of all Alex Knob.

Over breakfast I check, recheck and triple check the weather forecast, but I still cannot decide on my route. A quick stop at the National Park Visitor Centre provides friendly encouragement, but no further insight. So I drive towards the Franz Josef Glacier, still not sure where I am heading. I park the car and am faced with two choices: head right for a four hour climb to the top of Alex Knob and a fantastic 360 degree views from the glacier to the sea, if I can beat the cloud that is rolling in; left offers the more interesting walk along the Roberts Point Track with great, but not spectacular, views at the end. I throw on my backpack and begin to walk...

Starting from the Douglas Bridge, the Roberts Point Track winds up the true right of the Waiho Valley, over ice-carved rock, across many side streams and directly under the flight path of the tourist hauling helicopters to a viewpoint high above the glacial ice. Having recently reopened after the track was rendered impassable by damage from a major flood, the Roberts Point Track now has several new "Indiana Jones" style rope bridges - the longest being 111m in length.

Being the original track up the Franz Josef Glacial Valley, the track is steeped in engineering history too - the Hendes Hut and the 1907 Gallery Steps being intriguing artefacts.

The final section, above the snow line, leads to Roberts Point and a surprisingly intimate view of the lower levels of the Franz Josef Glacier which I enjoy from the randomly placed picnic table. From here I also enjoy watching the helicopters landing on the glacier to drop off the guides and their clients who seem Lilliputian in comparison to the grand scale of the one kilometre high amphitheatre that surround the great river of ice.

Heeding the advice from the numerous DOC boards, I run the gauntlet of melting snow falling from the trees to follow the helicopters and retrace the my route back along the track. On my way to the valley floor, I feel happy for the rest of the day safe in the knowledge that I made the right choice this morning :)

Exploring the Oparara Valley

To quote Brian from the Rongo Backpackers "if this were easy to get to, it'd be overrun with people". I could not agree more.

The Oparara Basin is tucked away in a remote corner of the rainforests of the northern West Coast and is a natural spectacle of the highest order. Buried deep in this secluded valley are wonders such as stunning limestone arches and strange caves within a thick forest of massive moss-laden trees in every imaginable hue of green. This landscape could be straight out of a Dr. Seuss story complete with a colourful character: the whio - a super-cute, rare blue duck.

Full of child like wonder and delight, Michael (my German-Russian roomy) and I jump into Eric to drive along the winding, rough, gravel and sometimes steep track out of the valley to Karamea.

Abel Tasman Coastal Track

On 18 December 1642, Abel Tasman anchored his two ships near Wainui Bay - he was the first European to visit New Zealand. Over 350 years later, I dock my tiny Japanese vessel at a carpark near Wainui Bay to explore the golden beaches and coastal native bush of the Abel Tasman Coastal Track.

The Gibbs Hill Track heads inland, winding in and out of several little gullies before reaching the shrouded summit of Gibbs Hill. The clouds clear long enough to reveal sparkling seas and golden sands of the coastline. I trot along the track to Totaranui where I officially join the Abel Tasman Coastal Track.

From the estuary, I climb over a low saddle and wind down through lush forest to the jaw-droppingly beautiful Anapai Bay. Absorbing every detail of this secluded idyllic spot distracts me from the staleness of my day-old supermarket special sandwich. The clouds close in and the rain returns so I up and leave. From Anapai Bay to Mutton Cove, sandy beaches alternate with rocky headlands, but even the damp, dreary drizzle cannot detract from the stunning natural beauty.

Separation Point is a gnarly and worthwhile detour out along a narrow craggy outcrop of land, the natural boundary between Golden Bay and Tasman Bay. I retrace my steps inland to climb another saddle and then descend to the wind beaten Whariwharangi Bay.

Sited in a grassy clearing, tucked behind the beach in regenerating bush, Whariwharangi Hut is the most northern hut on the Abel Tasman Coastal Track. Built around 1896, this historic hut began life as a farming homestead and now is (allegedly) a haunted trekking hut. With the sun descending rapidly towards the horizon, I do not intend to stay and find out!

Climbing out of the bay to a stunning viewpoint overlooking Wainui Bay. After taking a moment to admire the setting sun, I race the sun towards the horizon to find my ship, for tomorrow I set sail...

Beth & Callum's First Mountain

Pen-Y-Ghent in the rain... :)

Garganta del Cares

The Garganta del Cares (Cares Gorge) is in the very heart of Picos de Europa National Park and divides the central massif from the western Macizo El Cornión. Also known as La Garganta Divina (The Divine Gorge), the popular trail which is perched high above the River Cares is reputedly one of the most breathtaking trekking trails that can be done in Europe.

After a short walk along the road, a climb starts which to brings me panting and puffing to Los Callaos. I look ahead along the wide, early stages of the gorge and can see the ancient communication route between the hamlets of Poncebos and Caín carved into the rocks of the mountains.

The rest of the trail is relatively flat, but I am not getting complacent as the path is narrow and there are hundreds of meters of free fall down to the crystal clear waters of the River Cares.

Just over half way, the gorge becomes narrower, creating a greater contrast with the jagged peaks towering above. The most beautiful part of the route is beginning. As the valley floor rises to meet the trail, I pass through a series of low, wet tunnels to emerge at the end of the gorge among the meadows of Caín.

I take a short break to devour a sandwich and an ice cold drink, before returning to Poncebos. Despite the wonderful, vertigo inducing journey being the same route as earlier today, it appears and feels different. The return leg feels more exposed and I see new sights that were hidden on the outward leg.

I throw my tired body onto my motorbike and make the short journey to Bilbao, where I will have two days on the to explore the exciting and cultured city.

Oh, we do like to be beside the seaside!

Getting out of bed was tough this morning!  After a sumptuous breakfast, we headed out of the back gate to begin our ascent of Hesk Fell.

Tussock-bashing our way along an ill-defined route, eventually led to the top of Buckbarrow, the best summit of the day.  In and amongst the boulders and outcrops, we stopped for a spot of lunch.

After filling our bellies, we headed across the Fell Road and up the short steep climb to the summit of Stoneside Hill.

A quick map check, then we headed across a boggy area to begin the long slog along another indistinct ridge with no clear path to the summit of Black Combe.

We crested the final rise on the sprawling summit and were faced with a huge expanse of golden blue, and in the foreground was a large offshore wind farm.  The view was immense.

From the summit, our final leg was the steady descent into Silecroft, where we jumped on the train back home.  The train journey complemented the hike perfectly.  A stunning journey along the coastline, the highlight of which was crossing the Kent Estuary.

Whilst many will think our achievements are small, it is through my eyes that I judge myself.  My point is this: you do not conquer a mountain.  You conquer yourself.

This hike will always stay in my mind as one that I enjoyed with two very good friends whilst reconnecting with a part of the World of which I am very fond :)

The day by numbers...

Distance: 20.1km

Time: 6 hours 47 minutes

Ups and Downs: 1827m

Maximum Height: 608m

2 + 1 = 3

With the group back to full strength, we set out from the Langdales to the Coniston massif.

Zig-zagging our way upwards, we reached Blea Tarn and then the Wrynose Pass road.  Rising in a strenuous corkscrew from the the pass to the summit of Wetherlam, we were rewarded with terrific views of the Coniston Old Man and the high level ridge walk leading to the summit cairn.

Now the height had been gained, we were able to stay high which was good news as our knees and feet were beginning to ache from the demands of the last two days.

After the hustle and bustle of the ridge towards the Coniston Old Man, the route up and over Dow Crag was the most satisfying summit - simply for the fact that it was not overcrowded with trekkers or tourists.

From Dow Crag we descended towards Ulpha, with occasional diversions to take in the peaks of White Maiden, Caw and Stickle Pike. Tired and weary, we arrived at Woodend Cottages, with a little help from a good Samaritan, to a home cooked feast :)

The day by numbers...

Distance: 30.7km

Time: 10 hours 29 minutes

Ups and Downs: 3259m

Maximum Height: 811m

Breakfast in a Cave

An early start was required if we were to get back on track and make up for yesterday's early pit stop...

One down, but two of us headed up Red Scree and above the clouds.  At the end of the ridge is Helvellyn - the highest point of the hike.  First, however, we stopped for breakfast in Priest's Hole.

From this gem of a place, we climbed back onto the main ridge and continued over Dove Crag, Hart Crag and Fairfield.  From the summit, we descended the lengthy convex slope to Grisedale Tarn and almost immediately headed back up to Dollywagon Pike, Nethermost Pike and Helvellyn.

As we started to descend, the clouds closed in and we were battered once more by a  horizontal hailstorm!  The beating continued all the way down to the valley floor, where we navigated the end of Thirlmere and climbed up what will forever be remembered as my least favourite mountain in the Lakes.

The long steady ascent to Ullscarf was fairly non-descript and rather tedious.  It is one place that I will not be rushing back to.  It was, therefore, with a spring in my step that we set off to collect the various Langdale Pikes.

With day light running out and the clock ticking before the food stopped being served, we bounded down the steep descent to the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel to fill our bellies and find the Third Musketeer :)

The day by numbers...

Distance: 35.0km

Time: 13 hours 38 minutes

Ups and Downs: 4539m

Maximum Height: 958m