Yesterday we arrived in our first stop of the big journey which is Sydney, and so once we were off the plane we jumped into a rental car and made our way to the beautiful little town of Thirroul, about one hour south of the city.
We decided to take the Grand Pacific Drive as opposed to going straight up the highway, and wound our way through 40km's of luscious bush scenery. I stuck my head out the window, somewhat dog-like, and was amazed that the air smelt like the New Zealand bush, and I couldn't place my finger on the reason why, until C said that the smell I was recognizing was the mustiness of damp undergrowth, something that Perth has absolutely none of. In such a strange way, that small similarity made us feel a little closer to home, at least for a while.
Gradually, the forests became peppered with sweet little weatherboard bungalows, some with verandahs, some with quaint but wild flowered gardens, some homes lovingly restored, others just as lovingly worn and weathered and 'pre-loved'.
The pacific ocean heaved on the left, and massive bush clad cliffs loomed on the right, with more little cribs and baches dotted between the two. This is where we found the little town of Thirroul where we are staying with some lovely friends, enjoying frisbee at the park, swims in the ocean, beers on the balcony and meanderings through the 'old school' township. A blissful start to the adventure.
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