Float your way to relaxation, just one hour from Sydney CBD.
There’s a certain point in the road where I roll down the car window. It’s at the bottom of the hill, where the little white-painted posts line the edge of the winding road, decades-old mesh fencing stringing them together. Not only do they deter wayward vehicles from crashing over into the rocky bushland below, they punctuate the passing rush of air with tiny, satisfying “pft” sounds as they flick past the ear. Coupled with the lilting birdsong and sweet smell of the surrounding eucalyptus trees, the journey into relaxation starts right here. It doesn't matter how hot or cold it is outside, I must roll down that window to drink in the approach to Berowra Waters, my secret river.
On arrival we lug backpacks and shopping bags past picnickers enjoying the riverside, our appetites peeked by the aromas of their sizzling BBQs, fueling our own plans for the slow cooked meals to come. With boat-only access to the house, ropes are untied, luggage is stowed and as soon as we hit the water I can feel the tension begin to drain. Stress seeps away from my shoulders and into the salty green depths beneath the hull, my nostrils soaking up the smell of two stroke fuel as the engine carries us off.
I wonder if Mum and Dad knew that blowing their house deposit back in 1962 on a basic block of land, shared with my grandfather and Dad’s sister, would become the stuff of life for us all. Rising up from Berowra Creek via a tumble of sandstone steps and several clusters of shaggy native grass trees, their prize investment was, on the surface, a simple fibro shack. A larger shed further up the hill concealed an outhouse that housed a dunny can and endless terrors for little girls sent up with meager torchlight and grim expectations.
It was so much more than a little shack though. Without a phone, TV or running water, the simplicity of our Berowra house was exactly what Dad craved in an escape from the demands of an engineer’s life. Decades later, it remains an oasis of calm to retreat to, and just over an hour’s drive from the Sydney CBD.
It’s this proximity to real life that makes Berowra Waters so magical. A thousand miles from care, yet a realistic day trip - you can walk away from work on Friday afternoon and be on the deck with a beer in your hand by dinner time - the whole weekend ahead of you on the river.
Whilst over time we have renovated and modified the house to accommodate longer stays and a growing extended family, the essence remains. The camp shower, early Kooka stove and stick-on plastic tiles eventually gave way to running water in a hard-won IKEA kitchen (all barged in flat packs across the water). It’s not all new and shiny though - collected pieces, age-old board games and Dad’s earthmover-etched whiskey glasses are still going strong, along with a little blue cupboard hung off the wall by the front door, salvaged from the original shack before it was demolished and still housing Aerogard, Stingoes and sunscreen.
It’s the summer months that we spend most of our holidays here, mucking about in boats with the cicadas chorusing around us and our senses piqued at the palpable possibility of snakes and spiders lurking in the undergrowth. Lugging a slow combustion stove up those 96 steps certainly sweetened our weekender’s appeal in winter however and sitting on the river in a canoe around Easter, you’ll start to see plumes of smoke rising from the chimneys of a handful of cottages and holiday rentals.
Time moves slowly at Berowra and meals are often served late. It’s not unusual for three rounds of breakfast to be served over the course of a morning before everyone has emerged from their slumber, following raucous late night card games on the deck over dodgy bottles of port.
By day, the river beckons in summer, glistening invitingly and there’s nothing like a dip to blow out the cobwebs. A run down the ramp, followed by a crazy leap stirs up more memories of summers gone by, the flotsam of which lies beneath on the river bed - 80’s sunglasses, fishing rods, brand new Christmas watches and my Grandfather’s false teeth! A quick rinse under the hose-cum-outdoor shower and before you know it we’re back on the deck around the Scrabble board with a sherry in one hand and a slab of Christmas cake in the other, vying for a triple letter score on the “Q”.
Later in the evening, the hollers from teens flinging themselves off the rope swing up river is replaced by the swish and slap of mullet belly-flopping on the surface, “But you’ll never catch them on a line,” Dad always said. More like bream, whiting and flathead, if you know all the best spots.
2007 Dobel prize winner Ana Pollak, artist and resident of Danger Island took out the coveted drawing prize with “Mullet Creek”, her minimal depiction of long forgotten, withered timber oyster stakes standing sentinel in the river. Her own secret part of the river, further up at the mouth of the Hawkesbury, continues to inspire her and provide constant creative stimulation. "There's so much in the world that is loud and noisy, and for me (the creek) creates a sense of stillness and calm," she told The Age. Her minimal charcoal drawing onto rice paper affirms that the river veritably sings with life, texture and movement.
I certainly subscribe to Anna's practice of rowing, rather than motoring along the river. Physically moving a pair of oars through the water and working with, rather than against the ebb and flow of the tide, brings its own tranquility and serves as a fitting metaphor for one to merely slow down, switch off and connect to nature. Revel in the whisper of a breeze as it passes through the sheoak trees, their soft needles resting here and there on the deck, a mossy rock, your beach towel.
Happy dog barks reverberate along the valley that slopes down to meet the river and all is right in the world. I suspect we could all use a little more time and tide.
The Fine Print
How to get there
Parking is free and generous on both the eastern and western sides of the river at Berowra Waters. It fills up at peak times however, so it’s best to arrive early morning or late at night.
When to go
All year round. In winter a chilly fog often settles on the water adding to the romance. In summer, the river offers up all kinds of water sports - swimming, kayaking and boating.
What to pack
As little as possible - it’s all about comfort. A good book, a pack of cards and your favourite tipple for cocktail hour.
Wooly socks and jumpers in winter and in summer, sunscreen, cozzies and thongs with something light to throw on in the evening. No fuss.
Insect repellent is also essential on the water all year round and flat, non-slip shoes are a must for climbing in and out of boats. Covered walking shoes are recommended for exploring the surrounding National Parks and Wildlife walks - The Great North Walk in particular.
Soundtrack
In the morning:
Pieter Wispelwey playing Bach cello concertos
Late afternoon:
Divan Gasparyan, "I will not be sad in this world"
Arvo Pärt, Spiegel im Spiegel
Where to stay
There are loads of holiday rental cottages, houseboats and B&Bs online. Many houseboats leave from Brooklyn and you can make your way up the Hawkesbury to Berowra Waters.
Insider tips
Grab fish and chips for lunch on arrival or come back by boat one evening to the Berowra Waters Marina.
For a special destination food experience, book ahead for lunch or dinner at the celebrated Berowra Waters Inn. A complimentary shuttle boat will pick you up for your meal and deliver you home to your houseboat or pontoon. Better still, up the ante and arrive with Sydney Seaplanes from Sydney Harbour.
Before you go
Read The Secret River by Kate Grenfell. I dare you not to be seduced by the Hawkesbury under Grenfell’s brilliant, evocative prose.
*This article originally appeared on Lonely Continent
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