NSW South Coast Tour Review | Australia activities | Narooma, Tilba & Bermagui
David Whitley takes in the highlights of Narooma, Tilba, Bermagui and the New South Wales South Coast Hinterland.
The picnic tables seem a little lonely. They’re in fine working condition, but they give off the impression that hardly anyone ever comes to park themselves down with a selection of chips and dips.
It’s a shame, as it’s an absolutely fabulous spot. Forest flanks a vast expanse of water, as birds swoop in at all angles around where the non-existent boats would theoretically moor.
This is what’s left of what once was a once bustling township. In the 1860s, this was Wogonga. It sprang up almost overnight when gold was discovered just off the south coast, becoming a major transportation hub. After all, it was easier to get the gold to the inlet and ship it away than lug the booty all the way to the shore towns.
But when the gold disappeared, so did the settlement. And now hardly anyone seems to know it existed, let alone pays a visit.
It’s one of those classic local places that most of the locals don’t even seem to know about, and those that do feel incredibly smug about having to themselves.
Well, unfortunately for any such smug types around Narooma, Dave Ellison is on a one man mission to expose everyone’s little hideaways to as many people as possible.
He bounds with the enthusiasm of an obsessive music fan making mix tapes for his friends, filled with glee as we reach every lookout, wildlife den and secluded bay. He clearly loves the area – which is why he decided to move down to this part of the world in the first place – and, you have to concede, he has a point. Most of it is National Park, after all, and it isn’t half reminiscent of the more-feted Byron Bay hinterland.
Following a meander through the forest canopy of the ironically-named Tourist Drive – the only other vehicle we come across is clearing felled trees – Dave pulls the van over. “And this,” he says with characteristic whooping delight, “is the nicest beach to have ever been named after a fox poison.”
1080 Beach gets its title from signs warning people about the poison left for the unwanted intruders in the area. So few people visit it that it never managed to get a proper name. And predictably, enough, it’s utterly lovely.
Under the shadow of Mt Dromedary/ Gulaga, the somewhat freeform tour heads towards relative civilisation. Central Tilba is one of the few places that managed to survive when there was no longer gold in them thar hills. It turned to dairy, and as a result it is now an excellent place to get really fat.
The first stop is the Tilba Cheese Factory, and it has samples galore. It’s possible to test precisely how long you can lick jams, honeys and relishes off lolly sticks before being given the evil eye by the staff, but it requires a stronger nerve with the cheese.
You have to sample that in front of the counter, and it takes a steely resolve to wolf down a bit of each one without buying a hunk. No great disaster – the cracked pepper, sundried tomato and savoury herb varieties are rather more-ish anyway.
Amongst the tea rooms, sweet shops and evildoers wafting cakes, Central Tilba is something of an arty enclave. It’s perfectly feasible to spend a morning ambling around photography studios and woodwork shops, but we have wines to taste. Just, ahem, after a quick detour to the fudge shop…
The region is not quite yet on the Australian wine map, but it could well be the next addition to it. In recent years, a few operations have sprung up, and the Tilba Valley Winery is easily the most picturesque of the lot.
Perched on a hill, overlooking the water, it’s designed for a lazy afternoon outside with a good bottle and a fulsome cheeseboard. There’s none of the usual winery pretence either – the man behind the counter freely admits his reds need a bit more time to develop. He’s not wrong, but the chardonnay does the trick nicely.
Tempting though it is to loll around with a couple of big glasses, we have a date with some pelicans. Corunna Lake is one of the waterways that nibbles away at the coastline in these parts, and driving over it is spectacular. It’s often used for waterskiing, but when there are no noisy boats to distract, birds flock here. The pelicans are the highlight – it’s amazing how a creature can go from comical to thoroughly graceful the moment it stops eating and takes flight.
The day finishes with what are clearly Dave’s favourite bits. He’s a keen surfer, and he waxes lyrical about the numerous beaches between Bermagui and Narooma like a child with a new toy.
They’re all pretty much deserted bar the odd fisherman, and some aren’t even signposted. At one, Dave pulls up in a seemingly innocuous spot for a short walk amongst the screeching cicadas. The track soon turns into dunes, and then a golden strip.
We park ourselves on the sands for a few minutes and idly watch two teenagers battle the surf with their bodyboards. “You know what?” he grins on full beam. “I think we’ve officially made it a crowd.”
Dave Ellison runs Coast Encounters (02 4476 5880), which specialises in tours of the Narooma area. The tours can be tailored to the group and include winery lunches and pottery demonstrations, amongst other things. Otherwise, sit back and enjoy the random selection. Prices start at $80 per person for a day trip.
David Whitley was a guest of Tourism NSW.
This article was originally written for the Sydney Morning Herald.
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