Sydney, I made it!

Daily miles: 30.53 miles | Total miles: 6633.13 miles

I woke up early in a cold room, but tucked under the warm blankets I was nice and cozy. Just after 5am I got up to make sure I could leave by 6am and catch the 7am ferry. I got ready, packed my things, and was all set to go—until I couldn’t open the door. Was I trapped? Would I miss the ferry I’d been aiming for? I searched for a latch or a lock, starting to get nervous. And then—Andrea, just push a little harder. Magically, the door opened.

With all devices ready—InReach, Garmin, and phone—I was off. I started running with my jacket zipped up tight. It was still dark, but I was in a great flow and filled with excitement about the day ahead. When I reached the wharf, I was a little sweaty but beaming inside. While waiting, a kind stranger named Brendon began chatting with me. Not only did he pay for my ferry ticket, but we also had one of those unexpectedly beautiful conversations that fills you up. It was the perfect way to start the day.

After disembarking, I navigated the Palm Beach stretch—a hilly island-like paradise with vibrant trees, fragrant flowers, and homes perched among the greenery. About six miles in, I stopped for a croissant and a pee break at a café. The staff were incredibly kind—they treated me to a cappuccino and warm conversation. I would’ve loved to stay longer, but the grey clouds were rolling in.

Not long after, it started raining. First lightly, then more insistently. A gorgeous rainbow appeared along a beachfront path and I paused to soak in the moment—soaked from the rain but filled with gratitude. I still had about 20 miles ahead, so I pushed on. The downpour grew heavier. My clothes clung to me, and I was cold, but the trail wound through bike paths lined with lush ferns—some as tall as palm trees. Magical.

Eventually, the rain stopped and my clothes began to dry. The scenery shifted into steeper climbs with sweeping ocean views. As I reached the Spit Bridge, I watched it split open to let a sailboat through—such a delicate sight on a gritty day.

Just three miles before the Harbour Bridge, I met Peter and Don, two cyclists who offered guidance and conversation. A little later, they suggested we travel together into the city. Their company was a gift. They even waited while I grabbed groceries, then led me to the bridge elevator. Thank you both.

Up I went. And what a moment. Standing atop the Harbour Bridge, I felt it—another milestone. A deep joy. A big city, entered by foot, one step at a time. This is how I want to live. This is why I run. With a smile stretched across my face, I took a few photos, crossed the bridge, and descended toward my next home for the night.

The YHA is impressive—easy self check-in (with assistance), modern facilities, a café open 24/7, and a bar with views of the Opera House. My dorm has six beds, each with a light, socket, curtain, blanket, and locker. After showering, eating, and doing laundry, I started wrapping up my socials for the day.

The journey continues. And what a ride it is.

Thanks for being here, Andrea