Iron Cove is one of the larger bays in Sydney Harbour that I've encountered on my walks so far. It is the estuary of Iron Cove Creek (now a concrete drain) and is about 3.5 km long and a few hundred metres wide. Iron Cove Bridge is also the fourth of the seven bridges on the Harbour Circle walk.

Since it didn't matter much where I started, I parked the car down by the southern end of the former Rozelle Hospital (I see that last year, although I took pictures of Rozelle Hospital, I only posted about it's grander neigbour Callan Park) at the Leichhardt Rowing Club. I set out in an anti-clockwise direction along the foreshore.

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Coral tree in bloom with Rainbow Lorikeet.


One of the foot bridges.


Towards late afternoon the water became like glass.


Mangroves. It's hard to believe that right behind me a bunch of teenagers were playing a game of charades or something similar. They were screeching with laughter.


Almost back at the Princes Highway. The sign says there used to be three islands and the one that's left has been considerably eroded. It is called Fatima's Island because in 1951 the Portuguese Catholics of Sydney came here to pray to Our Lady of Fatima! People do very mysterious things sometimes.


Several families having a picnic. On my way past in the late morning there were already a few men gathered with hubble bubbles. By the time I came back they were barbecueing. Reminded me of the 1950s, when I was a kid and multi-family parties used to break up into male and female groups (though not quite so deliberately structured with men's and women's "rooms" separated by a space in the park). I spent a good deal of my time as a young person battling to be accepted in the male groups because I found the women's conversation incredibly dull (truly it was about kids and shopping and stuff). It wasn't funny because if you tried to talk to the men they'd assume you were chatting them up - or they'd pretend that was what they thought so they could get rid of you! I thought we were at least half done with that battle.


I was sitting on a bench resting my aching feet when this group walked past me. It's the second time in my life here in Sydney that I've seen a woman with all of her face, except the eyes, covered. And both occasions have been in the last few weeks. You can't say hi or smile at a face that isn't there. Maybe they are visitors - there are a few airport hotels in the vicinity. If they're not, I almost can't bear to think about what it says about what's happening here.


Back at the edge of the airport.

Canterbury Council has kindly provided a sketch map of their section of the cycleway. Here's the bit I did yesterday, starting just opposite the entrance to the Alexandra canal at the bottom of the picture, crossing the Princes Highway, walking along to Canterbury Road (which crosses the river at the top of the map) and back again. I set myself a target of 20,000 steps yesterday and counted 17,000 of them on this walk. I kept checking the pedometer to make sure it was just at the right position on my belt, so I'm happy this time that the count was accurate. Anyway it accords with my map that says the distance is about 4.5 km each way.


Cooks River does not have a good reputation for cleanliness. So I was surprised to see as many fish-eating birds as I did.


Later in the afternoon, when the tide was in, I found a couple of black-winged stilts at the same spot.

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Canterbury Road. I had to cross it to get back to the cycleway on the other side of the river. The nearest lights were quite far in either direction and set so that when there was no traffic from your right it was coming from your left. Nothing in sight that looked like food either - however, while I was standing there trying to get across a man with very few teeth came up to me and started trying to persuade me of the benefits, to the soul (obviously not to the teeth) of onion soup. I ran across the road the instant I could risk it!


Canterbury Council has a slogan "City of Cultural Diversity". They've celebrated this by making an avenue in the park where I came out onto Canterbury Rd that is dedicated to local sports men and women. It's quite an interesting concept because if I think of one thing that provides cultural unity to about 80% of Australians (not including yours truly) then it must be sport. But, with the exception of about 3 plaques dedicated to Rugby League players and a couple of early 20th century motorbike racers, these are all people who participated in minority sports like speed skating, tae kwon do, kick boxing, synchronized swimming, weightlifting, etc. The park itself is dedicated to the beatified Mary McK, who apparently ran a school in the next street for a bit.

More later. I need to get out and do my next 10,000!

White-faced heron.


The excitingly named Intermediate Egret.

In Kelly's Bush - a remnant of bush on the Hunter's Hill peninsula. Apparently it suffers from industrial contamination - so naturally they wanted to put residences for humans on it! The locals saved it and they are now fully engaged in battle with the weeds. I heard frogs, so it can't be too badly contaminated.

I decided to explore Hunter's Hill today. It is on a long thin peninsula dividing the Parramatta and Lane Cove Rivers. I expected to find old, rich people's houses, which I did, but towards the point in an area called Woolwich, I spotted this factory with a view.


Turns out it is the now disused engineering works for the Woolwich Dock, originally established in 1901 as a dry dock for large ships. It was in use until the 1950s when the ships began to get too big. This area used to be industrial!!! And there are still a few workers' cottages around to prove it.


Old bollards.


Birdlife




There are still some intermittent works going on there.


In the 1990s apparently the area was bought by a developer. The locals protested and succeeded in getting the foreshore area preserved for public use. Looking across the harbour from a marina around the corner one sees Cockatoo Island (also formerly industrial and with a ferry connection to Woolwich where many of its workers lived) and, behind that, an area of fairly recent waterfront development on Iron Cove. I plan to go over there and explore it soon - in principle I approve of high density developments close to the city, but that one looks horribly unimaginative from across the water.

While we were at Sèvres Mr and Mrs Swan and their four children used to come around at about noon each day to see what scraps we would offer them. They went up one side of the river and down the other, stopping off at each inhabited boat. Of course, we always had the stale end of a baguette to distribute. I'm sure it's not their proper diet, but they looked healthy enough.


Here's the proud father. The two adults always hung about on the edges, making sure the kids got most of the bread. But they pushed in every now and then and this guy could stretch up and grab the bread out of your hand if you weren't careful.