Ballina to Wardell
23 km (153 km) | 5 hr
I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks - who had the genius, so to speak, for sauntering: which word is beautifully derived "from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked for charity, under the pretense of going à la Sainte Terre," to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, "There goes a Sainte-Terrer," a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander ~Henry David Thoreau
I love wandering along our magnificent coast. My days on this coast walk are not so much hiking or bushwalking as they are gentle, erratic meanders along beaches, up and down headlands, over dunes, and along the shore, with plenty of stops for coffee and snacks and swims and sighs and reflections and an occasional nap in the sun.
I’ve spent some time on the walk reflecting on the best way to describe these erratic movements. During the planning for this section, I came across a social media post discussing John Muir, the Scottish-American naturalist, author, and environmental philosopher also commented about this. I've adapted John’s thoughts below...
Hiking - I don't like either the word or the thing. People ought to saunter not hike! Do you know the origin of that word 'saunter?' It's a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, 'A la sainte terre,' 'To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now [this coast is] our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter along them reverently...
Anyway, having a background in linguistics, I checked the actual etymology of ‘saunter,’ and it is, perhaps, even more apt than John Muir’s folk one above. Saunter, in the sense of to stroll dates from the 1660s and is likely from an earlier term meaning to muse, and possibly related to Middle French s'aventurer - to take risks'
So, with a mix of musing, strolling, meandering and risk-taking, combined with a little of the feeling of a reverential pilgrim, the second chunk of my coastal journey began - a loving saunter from the Richmond River to the mighty Clarence River and a little beyond.I started this phase where I left off last time - at Ballina on the Richmond River. I landed at Ballina airport around midday and then snared the sole waiting taxi to speed me to the car ferry across the Richmond at Burns Point in West Ballina.
I’ve always loved car ferries – a love instilled in me from a young age by my dad, an adventurous soul who particularly enjoyed the Hawkesbury River and Wisemans Ferry with its array of punts. I had some pleasant reminisces of my ‘old man’ and his quirky likes and venturesome spirit as we punted across the river.
Once on the south side of the Richmond, it was a pleasant 6 km stroll along the south bank, taking me down to South Ballina Beach through the nature reserve. Once on the beach, a mighty strip of sand greeted me – a 31 kilometre stretch from the south wall of the Richmond to the mouth of the Evans River. While there are seven beaches along the strip, it is effectively one long arc of perfect northern rivers sand all the way to Evans Head – two full days of walking away. Indeed, this beach claims to be the second longest on the NSW coast (after Stockton, near Newcastle).
So, I enjoyed a pleasant afternoon saunter from South Ballina to Beswicks Beach, then onto Robins and Patchs Beach. At Patchs, I headed inland to the pretty little riverside town of Wardell. Wardell suffered massive damage in the 2022 floods and, to my dismay, even the gorgeous riverside pub remains closed. I contented myself with a fabulous steak pie from the famous Wardell pie shop and then made my way to my abode for the night - a little cabin in a caravan park a few kms from Wardell; a wonderfully peaceful spot to lay my weary head.