Palm Beach

What a day. Feeling like embracing the final-days-of-Autumn sun with a hike, I remembered a recommendation I received of Palm Beach from an Aussie local. This particular individual doesn't generally allow many positive endorsements, so I had a feeling the scenery would be spectacular and geared up for a beautiful day.

 

I partook in a little research prior to my departure, as often anonymous Internet bloggers provide the most helpful inside tips of things a traveler wouldn't otherwise have discovered if left to their own devices. Sure enough, a specific hike up a mountain to view a lighthouse received a shockingly high 4.7 stars by previous partakers. Sold, I threw on my "runners," (tennis shoes); I had planned my day. 

Palm beach is an extra treat, as it involves an approximate three hour public transportation commute, including multiple bus transfers. While this could be discouraging to a person with a strict agenda, I quite enjoyed the trip as it allowed me to view much of New South Wales I haven't seen before, and probably wouldn't have experienced if I didn't embark on the trip. I was able to discover a few restaurants I could potentially indulge in some time, such as the esteemed "Hog's Breath Cafe," and another whose name wasn't promoted, but instead its front door featured a large inspirational sign stating, "Life's a beach, the Universe is your oyster." I brought the written words of my good/ imaginary friend Bill Bryson along (I am currently reading his spectacularly hilarious book, "In a Sunburned Country"), but when I discovered the bus pulling into its last stop I hadn't even opened the first page. 

My initial impression was that the beach was stunning, of course, but I couldn't help but wonder what made the difficult-to-impress Aussie I spoke with claim it to be their favorite. It was simple, scarcely populated, and featured a relaxed atmosphere, which are all nice aspects, but I couldn't grasp what would deem this destination of such high praise that it would be chosen, without hesitation, as their number one pick over the hundreds of other beaches in New South Wales. I was soon to find out. 

I stopped at the first cafe I found, ordered a takeaway meal of a chicken burrito with guacamole paired with a "Flat white," which, I am told, is a coffee with milk sans froth (it seems to be the go-to local drink here, a habit I quickly picked up). I took the doggy bag across the street to the beach, found a quiet place to sit, and enjoyed the little piece of heaven derived from eating my delicious lunch in paradise.

Eventually I was ready to set off towards the mysterious lighthouse I had read about. Not knowing where to begin searching for it, I looked up and easily spotted a small figure across the beach that, with enough squinting, could be made out to look like a lighthouse. That was easy. Small and insignificant in appearance from the distant side of the beach, it was an item I never would have noticed had I not been specifically searching for it. Shout out to the Internet bloggers out there, improving lives of tourists everywhere!

I reached the base of the mountain, and to my surprise, I discovered it featured hundreds of steps winding upwards. I weighed my resolve and decided the scale weighed slightly more heavily on the "Yes" side, and set off upwards, step by step. 

My favorite kind of workout is one where you're having so much fun you forget about the physical exertion you are partaking in only until you feel your sore muscles the next day. This, however, was not one of those workouts. Winding slowly upwards, one step at a time, frequently pausing to stand off the path so other tourists could pass - some from going down the one-way stair route of the mountain, most from moving much quicker upwards. After what seemed like an eternity, I spotted what I thought may be like the promise land. Triumphantly, I took my last shaky step, clinging on to the mountainside for balance, as it would appear the construction workers decided a handrail would not be necessary to set a hiker up for success, only to reach the top and abruptly realize I had merely arrived at the halfway point.

Miraculously, I made it to the top. After a quick check with my emotions to decide if they would rather first have me first view the lookout from my treacherous work, or go hide in a corner somewhere and pass out for a few minutes, I decided as long as I wasn't doing any more climbing it would be okay. 

A sign instructing hikers on the history of the lighthouse was posted, but it must not be of very high historical importance because it was like pulling teeth trying to find something interesting. Here is the best I've got: it is one of only two lighthouses on the New South Wales coast left unpainted, in order to show its natural stone finish (the other is at Montague Island). I hope that news changes your life for the better somehow. 

Despite the lack of historical importance, the views were spectacular; the hike allowed me to discover an additional beach behind the mountain, which was an unexpected treat and I think the pictures speak for themselves as to why this is a favorite destination of many locals and tourists alike. 

Another day in paradise!