There had certainly been a long hiatus for us between hikes, simply for lack of time. Life feels like it’s passing at an exponentially blistering pace. This perception also seems to be shared between my peers and friends. I don’t know if it’s simply a result of age, or the commitments that inadvertently present themselves transitioning into full-fledged adult-hood, but what persists is the feeling. The feeling of always playing catch up with father time; of looking back at the week on a Friday and wondering ‘what did I even do?’. Don’t get me wrong. Retrospectively, it’s easy to point to the achievements, to highlight the evidence of targets hit or milestones reached on a macro scale, but what downright frightens me, is the loss of the details. Not dissimilar to dreams, memories are inherently grainy; they summarise immense periods of time into an overarching feeling, or at best, flashes of vague images.
I guess that’s why I like hikes, and writing about them. Slowing down father time with mother nature. A temporary disassociation with the rat-race that is the early-thirties helps me reset. Writing about it lets me reflect and savour the details.
With all this, Ira and I committed ourselves to make time and walk through what we’d find to be one of the most beautiful pockets of the New South Wales landscape. Not so much a hike, but a winter-day of exploring, strolling and chatting.
Getting There:
Mount Wilson is an elevated pocket in the Blue Mountains. It’s located about two-hours from Sydney, and can be accessed either directly from Bells Line of Road or The Great Western Highway and the Darling Causeway. We chose the latter route, and are glad that we did.
Heading north on the Darling Causeway, a stunning road which follows ridgelines along the Great Dividing Range, you are exposed to grand vistas of the sclerophyll eucalyptus which is typical of forests in New South Wales. On a winter day, when the incidence of insolation lies low to the horizon, the blueness of the mountains is incredibly evident. The blue hues are caused by the interaction of sunlight with oils in the air released by the eucalyptus trees.
What is however more striking than this, is the speed in which the landscape changes when you approach Mount Wilson. The mountain has its own microclimate, evident immediately driving through the Cathedral of Ferns. Here the winding road is flanked by ferns of such density that only sparse rays find their way through to the pavement. The name of the area is befitting of the arch formed by the ferns and the stained-glass look of the sun through their leaves.
Mount Wilson Road opens up to The Avenue, and immediately the landscape changes again. It felt like we were transported to the northern hemisphere, with the winter-bare deciduous Plane Trees flanking the main strip reaching up through thick layers of recently shed leaf-mulch.
The Garden:
Mount Wilson hosts a number of curated gardens, all accessible with a small entry fee. The gardens are most popular in spring and autumn, where the European-inspired greenery hosts magnificent splashes of seasonal colour.
Most of the gardens are closed during the winter months, however, Bebeah remains open. Living in Sydney, the feeling of seasonality is something that often watered down. Our temperate climate means that we don’t readily experience the extremes of weather that our northern-hemisphere counterparts do, let alone snowfall. This is exacerbated by our predominantly evergreen endemic flora. Our landscape doesn’t change with the seasons. We’re not reminded of spring by budding blossoms, or of autumn by falling leaves. Seeing the bare branches of the trees in the gardens (combined with the blitzing cold wind of the day) really elevated the winter time experience.
The garden itself was originally constructed in 1880. The European inspired elements beyond the flora are interspersed throughout. One is constantly reminded of this country’s colonial heritage, with low-slung stack-stone walls, Victorian pergolas and rustic benches common throughout the manicured lawns. The end effect is nothing short of stunning. Having been raised in a generation where reruns of The Secret Garden were almost a monthly occurrence, I couldn’t help but feeling like I was strolling through the set of this classic.
In contrast to the flora, the fauna was of course, Australian. We were fortunate enough to come across a mixed flock of Crimson Rosellas and King Parrots feeding in the skirt of a maple tree. This particular flock was incredibly flighty, and would cheekily take off as soon as we go near. Seeing the distant colourful flecks of the parrots’ breasts against the winter-grey sky got me pretty excited.
We will certainly be returning to Bebeah and the surrounding gardens again. I can’t wait to see how the serene personality of these landscapes change with the seasons, and it’s incredible to have a slice of Europe within day-trip distance.
