A Winding Path to Woy Woy

32.12 miles | Total: 6,602.6 miles

I woke up at 6am today to the quiet rhythm of a new day. A hot coffee, a yoghurt, and the usual packing routine later, I was on the road by 7am. It was already light outside—and warmer than expected. A good sign.

The plan for today: follow the bicycle path. And what a good decision that was. Right after the first turn, I was already gliding alongside the water. Not long after, I found myself on one of those twisty cycle paths that run parallel to the highway—curvy and narrow, great strength training. These sharp bends require me to lift my buggy’s front wheel again and again, and while it’s exhausting at first, once I get into the rhythm, it becomes fun in its own way.

The views were breathtaking. Green tunnels of trees, vibrant ferns, flowers I’ve never seen before. I passed creeks, lakes, bridges, birds, pelicans—nature fully showing off. It felt like a gift. At mile 11, I found some chairs on a lakefront bathed in sunlight. I took a break there. Just sat, breathed, savoured.

I shed my vest and continued in just my shirt. The cycle paths felt smooth under my feet, and I passed many walkers and cyclists. To a few, I said, “I’m running around the world.” To others, “I’m running to Perth.” It always makes people pause, think, and then light up when they get it. That moment of realization—it’s magic.

Around mile 24, I met Gorgi, a kind and vibrant retired teacher. We talked for a bit, and she named what I was doing perfectly: “social snacking.” I laughed. She was right—these brief conversations mean the world to me.

Just a few steps later, I came upon a remembrance spot for a man who had taken his own life. His card was hanging there. As I read it, tears quietly ran down my cheeks. I felt his peace. I also felt the weight of what must have been unbearable pain. I carried that with me for the final miles.

The last stretch was warm, sunny, and filled with reflection. Sydney is just a day away. That thought carried me forward.

When I arrived in Woy Woy, I picked up some groceries and checked into a hotel. At the bar, three men having beers noticed me and the buggy and asked what I was up to. I told them. Fiona, who worked at the hotel—maybe the owner—didn’t hesitate. “You can have the room for free,” she said. The men applauded. We chatted, laughed, and took a silly photo together. The room has no heater, but it comes with thick blankets. I’ll be fine.

Tomorrow, Sydney.

Thanks for being with me on this journey. Every message, like, thought, or silent cheer—you’re lifting me more than you know.