Sydney to Kiama · one way, about 219 km back to the start
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219 km from Sydney to Kiama, about 2 h 57 of riding. On the way it passes Royal National Park, Sea Cliff Bridge and Wollongong. A steady touring day rather than a sprint.
Sydney's harbour is the reason it exists. The First Fleet arrived in 1788 and chose the sheltered cove where the city stands, on land long cared for by the Gadigal people of the Eora nation. The Harbour Bridge, opened in 1932 and known to everyone as the coathanger, and the Opera House, whose white sails by the Danish architect Jørn Utzon were completed in 1973, have since become the pictures people carry in their heads. In reality both look better when you stand under them at dawn, with the ferries just starting up and the water gently moving.
The Grand Pacific Drive begins here, and the sensible way out is south. Leave the centre early on a weekday or Sunday morning, avoid the rush hours, and follow signs through the southern suburbs toward the Royal National Park, which is the second oldest national park in the world, dating from 1879. The road winds through bushland and eucalypt forest with views over the Tasman Sea, and then continues past Stanwell Tops, where hang gliders launch over the cliff. After that comes the Sea Cliff Bridge at Coledale, a curved concrete viaduct built out over the water along a stretch of coast where the old road kept falling into the sea.
Take the traffic seriously. Sydney is a big, busy city, and the tollways around it are electronic, so check how a hire or foreign-registered bike will be billed before you set off. Lane filtering is legal for riders in New South Wales under defined conditions, but local rules are strict and the speed cameras are many, so read up before you rely on it. Summer brings heat, bushfire smoke in bad years and afternoon storms, and the best months for the coast are April to May and September to November.
The city offers everything a rider needs, with fuel at countless stations and workshops for every brand. Spend an evening at the water's edge near Circular Quay, take a ferry across to Manly if you have time, and have a flat white from one of the city's many small roasters. Then the coast road will be waiting.
South of Sydney, where the city's suburbs run out of road, there is a great block of heath, forest and cliff that has been protected since 1879. Royal National Park is often described as the second oldest national park in the world, after Yellowstone, and it still feels like a surprising piece of wilderness to find on the edge of a metropolis of five million people. Sandstone ridges drop to the sea in ragged cliffs, with deep gullies full of cabbage tree palms and rainforest between them.
The road through the park, which carries a vehicle entry fee, winds from the Princes Highway down to the coast and through the middle of the reserve. It is a handsome road, with bends that follow the ridges and dips into creek valleys, and in spring the heath is bright with wildflowers, banksias and waratahs. The speed limits are lower than a rider might wish, and the park is busy at weekends with cyclists, walkers and families, so the best time to ride it is a weekday morning, when the light is soft and traffic is thin.
The coast here is spectacular. Wattamolla, a small lagoon and beach reached by a short walk from the car park, has a waterfall that drops straight into the sea, and the cliffs along the coastal track give a long view down the shore toward the Illawarra. Further inland, the Hacking River runs through the park to Audley, where a weir, boat sheds and a picnic ground form a Sunday-afternoon scene that has not changed much in a century. Look for lyrebirds in the scrub, wallabies at dusk and sea eagles over the cliffs.
The Royal National Park is also the gateway to the Grand Pacific Drive, which follows the coast south to Wollongong, via the Sea Cliff Bridge. This makes it the best place to start a day's ride, with the city behind and the open coast ahead. Fire is a real risk in the park, and parts of the bush burned in 2001 and again in later years, so check conditions in summer.
For fuel, do not rely on the park, which has none. Heathcote, about six kilometres from the entry, is a town with stations, shops and cafes, and Sutherland is the larger centre not far to the north. Take water, because it gets hot on the exposed ridges, and be prepared for a pie and a coffee from a village bakery before you start.
There is a long curved bridge on the Illawarra coast that exists because a cliff kept falling down. The old road, Lawrence Hargrave Drive, ran along the base of the escarpment between Clifton and Coalcliff, and it was repeatedly blocked by rockfalls, closing the coast for months at a time. In 2005 the state opened the Sea Cliff Bridge, about six hundred and sixty metres of concrete curving out over the Tasman Sea, and it became an instant attraction. For riders it is a short, memorable piece of road, with water on one side and a wall of rock on the other.
The bridge is only part of the pleasure. The road is named after Lawrence Hargrave, the aviation pioneer who lived at Stanwell Park nearby and flew with box kites in the 1890s, and the memorial at Bald Hill, above the town, gives a wide view along the coast. Hang gliders launch from the hill in good wind, and on a clear afternoon you will see them wheeling above the beach. The little town of Stanwell Park lies in a green bowl between the escarpment and the sea, with a cafe by the beach and the sort of calm that makes you consider moving.
The road continues south through old mining towns. The Illawarra's coal seams run beneath the escarpment, and the small settlements of Coalcliff, Scarborough and Wombarra were built around the mines that fed the steelworks at Port Kembla. Thirroul, a little further on, is where the writer D. H. Lawrence stayed for a few weeks in 1922 and wrote most of his novel Kangaroo. The house still stands, and the seaside cafes and bookshops on the main street are good for a break.
Riding the Grand Pacific Drive on a calm weekday is wonderful. In busy periods, with tourists stopping on the bridge for photographs, it can slow to a crawl. Wind can be strong and the sea spray salty, and in winter and spring the migrating humpback whales pass close to the coast, so you may spot a spout or a tail from the bridge. Take the gentle bends with attention, because tourists often brake without warning.
Fuel is available at Stanwell Park, which is small, and the best options are in Thirroul and further south in Wollongong. A short stop here is about the view and the light, not the services.
Wollongong is a steel town that decided to become a beach town, and the result is a more interesting city than either description suggests. It stretches along a narrow coastal plain between the Illawarra escarpment, a steep green wall of forest and rock, and the Tasman Sea. To the south the chimneys of Port Kembla's steelworks send plumes into the sky, and to the north the beaches begin, with surfers, rock pools and a little lighthouse at the harbour.
The city grew on coal and steel, and for most of the twentieth century it was among the country's industrial centres, a place of heavy work, migrants from across Europe and strong unions. That history still gives Wollongong a no-nonsense character, and the migrants left behind a legacy in food, with Greek, Italian and Macedonian cafes and bakeries scattered through the suburbs. The Nan Tien Temple, a large and beautiful Buddhist temple at Berkeley, belongs to a more recent chapter, and it is open to visitors with a vegetarian restaurant. The University of Wollongong adds a young, lively crowd to the mix.
For a rider, Wollongong is the end of the Grand Pacific Drive and a convenient place for a proper break. It has all the services you could need, with fuel, motorcycle workshops, supermarkets and plenty of cafes. Park near the harbour, where the old breakwater lighthouse stands on a small headland, and walk out to Flagstaff Point for the view. The fishermen's co-operative at the harbour sells fresh fish, and a plate of fish and chips there on a sunny day is hard to beat.
The roads behind the city are worth knowing. Mount Keira lookout is a short climb up the escarpment, with a long view over the coast, and the steep road to the top is a good test of brakes and nerve, with tight bends and often a bit of gravel. Further on, the road to Macquarie Pass, a twisting climb through rainforest, is one of the best short rides in the region, though the surface is rough and wet after rain.
The traffic in the city can be heavy, particularly at the end of the working day, so plan to arrive outside the peak. Mid-morning in spring or autumn, with a clear sky and the sea breeze starting, is the best time to be here.
Kiama has a hole in the rocks, and the whole town has built a personality around it. The Kiama Blowhole, a seawater spout that shoots up on a big swell, sits on the headland near the lighthouse, and on a day with the right tide it throws spray as high as a small house. The town itself is a handsome, relaxed seaside place on the Illawarra coast, with Norfolk pines along the shore, a small working harbour, rows of old terraced cottages and about seven thousand residents.
The basalt here is the story. The black volcanic rock was quarried in the nineteenth century for the roads and buildings of Sydney, and you can see the old quarry scars and the dark stone in the harbour walls. The same volcanic soil, rich and reddish, makes the hills inland, the Jamberoo valley, among the greenest dairy country in the state. A short ride up there brings you to pasture, rainforest edges and, near Minnamurra, a boardwalk through subtropical rainforest that feels a long way from the city.
The Grand Pacific Drive, which ends here, begins at the southern edge of Sydney and winds through Royal National Park, then clings to the Illawarra escarpment. Its most famous section is the Sea Cliff Bridge near Coalcliff, a curving concrete viaduct built out over the ocean in 2005 after rockfalls repeatedly closed the old cliff road. Riding across it with the Pacific on your left, in morning light, is one of those experiences photographs do not quite capture. Traffic can be thick on summer weekends, so aim for an early start and a late lunch.
For the end of the ride, Kiama does everything right. There is fuel, there is fish and chips, and there is a row of cafés on Terralong Street. The harbour has a rock pool where locals swim, and the lighthouse, built in 1887, is a good place to take the last photo. In winter, whales pass offshore during their northern and southern migrations, and from the headland you can sometimes see them blowing. Bring a jacket, since the sea breeze can be cold after a hot ride.