Midway across, a wooden seat invited us to stop and have a snack - it became obvious why it had been put there as it looked down onto a tiny idyllic secluded cove. Eventually pulling ourselves away from this magical spot, we descended to the 5 km stretch of Wallaga Beach.

Unfortunately for our legs this was a steep beach with soft sand; another real calf-burner. The effort was worth it though for the constant views of the two sacred mountains; Gulaga to our right and Biamanga (Mumbulla Mountain) ahead of of us.

On Wallaga Lake

The silhouette of Gulaga, ever present on our walk to Wallaga, hazily dominated the northern end of the lake. This, the different plays of light at various times of the day and angles of the sun, the everpresent birdlife, and the sighing of the wind in the casuarinas on its shoreline gave Wallaga Lake a mystical ambience.

When you consider that bike paths are in or near developed areas, it's scary how much of the coast is taken up by urbanisation, i.e. cities, towns and coastal villages. Fortunately, National Parks and Nature Reserves are now protecting much of the undeveloped coast from further expansion. These comments are not an indictment of local government in the area, as most councils are protective of their urban green space and have programs to make residents aware of environmental issues, e.g. painting signs on drains warning that the water eventually flows into lakes or oceans or even declaring areas "plastic bag free zones". Local residents also have self-organised into groups such as Dunecare and Bushcare to try and remedy existing environmental problems and prevent any further degradation. However, we cannot all have uninterrupted ocean views and future development needs to be consolidated in already urbanised areas.

Enough pontificating - let's get back to the walk. At 8km, Wallaga Lake to Bermagui was one of the shorter stages of our walk. We retraced our steps from our cabin on the lake across to Camel Rock, to rejoin the Bermagui coastal walking track. This led us through a narrow strip of coastal forest between the beach and the main road, before emerging onto a disused stretch of bitumen road that had been washed out by severe seas. The motorist's misfortune became the walker's fortune, as for a few kilometres we had a smooth sealed track, with pigface and acacias creeping across and the occasional stretch of line markings still in place to prevent head-on collisions between opposing walkers.

                        

As we climbed up over Keating's Headland, a sea-eagle circled us and twice its shadow passed over us. Remembering our lessons at Gulaga about how people do not choose their totem, but that their totem chooses them, we decided that the sea-eagle had become our totem animal. Given my fascination for this superb aerialist, I was flattered.

We crossed another small wetland to reach the bridge over the Bermagui River, before following the road up the main street to our accommodation for the night at Zane Grey Caravan Park. Bermagui is one of the best known game-fishing ports in Australia and the author, Zane Grey, was a regular visitor during the 1930s to fish for the big marlin and tuna that can be found near here. It still has a lot of old town charm; the modern game boats in the harbour contrasting with the older building facades and date palms in the main street, the iconic rows of Norfolk Island Pines, and attractions such as the Blue Pool, a rock pool built into the rock platform at Blue Point over 60 years ago. We enjoyed our early morning swim in this pool and our brief stay in Bermagui.

The route southward from Blue Point