No holiday is complete without dropping in to see friends who live in some beautiful place you rarely get to.  And when those friends are joined by other mutual friends to turn it into an eight-some weekend – well, it doesn’t get any better than that.

And so it was that we left beautiful Congo Beach and headed north to rendezvous with three other couples in Bendalong, a beautiful and quiet holiday and retirement community a couple hours south of Sydney. 

But not so fast.  Before we made it to Bendalong we stopped at Broulee, another peaceful little beachside town that sports an ‘island’ which is permanently connected to the mainland via a large sandspit.  This island is now a nature reserve protecting nesting birds and other critters but there’s an interesting walk around it’s foreshore that provides a close look at the island and it’s rocky coastline.  We enjoyed this easy stroll, had lunch on the shady side of the island and finished the visit with a refreshing swim in the nearby surf.  As you do.

But Bendalong beckoned.  This new annual reunion of four couples is tied together by the four girls that have known each for more than 50 years – in fact, Julie has known Anne since primary school.  To stay connected after all these years and have such a hoot of a time when the four of them are together is testimony to their strong and lasting friendship.  And of course us four blokes are good mates as well which adds to the festivities.

The weekend was highlighted by a lot of catching up, stories and laughter, fabulous food, exploring the Bendalong/Manyana area, swimming in the surf, swimming in the strong current as Lake Conjola emptied out to the sea at low tide (super good fun)…and did I mention a lot of fantastic food?  Thanks to Marg and Col for hosting us in their beautiful home.

Not far from Bendalong is a major inland landmark that has drawn walkers for many years.  Pigeon House is actually not a house at all but a monolithic rock tower that rises high over the surrounding wilderness in the middle of Morton National Park. And for reasons we couldn’t really remember we had somehow missed out on visiting this landmark despite having explored the area many times.  So now it just had to happen.

We set up camp near the picturesque Clyde River in the national park not far from Pigeon House amongst beautiful tall trees that had been singed in the fires three years ago but somehow survived.  It rained most of the night and was ominously drizzly in the morning when we set off on our walk – a seven kilometre return trip from the car park with an elevation gain of about 500 metres. 

The trail was steepish the whole way, sometimes with extensive switchbacks and always upward, and it felt good to stretch the legs and fill the lungs.  But once we made the ridge leading to the final assault the trail was nothing more than steep washed-out steps with a steady stream of water flowing down our path.  Never mind, we were not for turning and up we climbed, gaining views from glimpses through the trees, until we finally made the base of the final escarpment walls that make Pigeon House so distinctive. 

From here we climbed a series of super-steep steel ladders, each separated by a little landing to catch our breath, spectacular in and of themselves, until finally we popped out at the top.  Panting from exertion and buzzing from the achievement, we climbed up on the lookout platform which gave us majestic views in all directions, absolutely stunning, including the coastline and the ocean to the distant east.  Pigeon House, we had finally conquered you and it was worth the wait.

After a quick lunch at the top it started to rain and amongst a heavy dose of dripping reality we donned our jackets to make the long and slippery journey back down to the carpark, soggy but happy.  We were kicking ourselves on the way down that we waited 40 years before finally doing this epic walk but I guess it’s better late than never.

Unfortunately Wanda had developed a slow leaking tyre the previous day so we limped into the coastal town of Ulladulla to get it fixed.  Turns out the damage was too close to the sidewall to be repairable so we put on the spare and were forced to recalibrate our plans. 

We camped that night at Termeil Point, just above the long banana-shaped Termeil Beach, in Meroo National Park, still raining and quite miserable.  With no spare we decided to trim off the last two days of our trip and head back to the Wolgan Valley where Wanda lives and where we have another spare waiting for her. 

And so ended our month-long journey of discovery of the high country of Victoria, the wonderful East Gippsland region of eastern Victoria and other memorable spots in southern New South Wales.  We were overwhelmed by the rugged and remote beauty of this part of Victoria as well as their long lonely beaches and friendly folk.  It was a great reminder that after all our travels around the world some of the best places to visit are just down the road.  And how good is that?