Journal of the Plague Year Issue 9
I write in praise of open spaces, with which this part of Sydney is well-provided, and in thanks for the wise heads that prevailed in creating Oatley Park. We had the most wonderful walk through the wetlands and then on to the old baths. It’s been years since I’ve been into the park—memories of children’s birthday parties—and it was full of parents and kids on bikes, kamikaze five year olds just off trainer wheels flying down the hills at a speed that would terrify their overweight dads wobbling behind on an overpriced bike. The Bike Shop at Morty must be doing a killing.
It’s a hidden peninsular, 45 hectares of bushland and paths, and the birdlife is particularly amazing. Quite a shame we only had iPhones, because the big camera would have been great for taking pictures of the rosellas and honeyeaters. As for the castle, apparently it was built in the depression.
It looks like some Georgian fortification from above, and then you walk around it and it becomes a picnic shelter with a very nice barbecue. A short walk and you are at the baths, which I had completely forgotten about.
The weather is at its Easter best, and we would in more normal times be at a beach somewhere enjoying the sun and the water. But these are not normal times. However, Paula’s ankle is improving and the exercise is nice. This could be the destination for my next big ride (it would be about 25 km to the point and back from home).
