When my daughters were young and money was tight, I discovered that Sydney’s greatest treasures didn’t require an admission fee. Now, thirty-something years later, with the girls grown and my grandkids running around, I’m still drawn to the same wild places. The ocean at dawn, the sandstone cliffs, the hidden beaches that tourists miss because they’re looking at their phones instead of following the track markers.
I’ve watched this city change, watched it sprawl and develop, but the best parts remain free for anyone willing to lace up their shoes or throw a towel over their shoulder. These aren’t just walks or swims. They’re the spaces where I learned to be alone with myself after my divorce, where I taught my daughters that adventure doesn’t need a credit card, where I still go when the hospital walls feel too close.
1. The dawn patrol at Mahon Pool
Every ocean pool in Sydney has its own personality, but Mahon Pool at Maroubra is where I learned to swim properly at fifty. Not the polite laps of a chlorinated pool, but real swimming in water that changes with every tide. The waves crash over the edge during big swells, and in winter, you share the pool with the occasional octopus hiding in the corners.
The regulars nod but don’t talk much. We’re all there for the same reason – that moment when the cold water hits and everything else disappears. Three mornings a week, year-round, no matter what shift I’m working. It’s the closest thing to a reset button I’ve found.
2. The Bondi to Coogee walk (but backwards)
Everyone does this walk the same way, which is exactly why you shouldn’t. Start at Coogee in the late afternoon and walk north. You’ll pass the crowds heading home, have the sunset at your back lighting up the sandstone, and arrive at Bondi just as the tourists clear out.
The cemetery at Waverley is worth the detour. Read the headstones of people who lived through Spanish flu and two world wars. Puts your own troubles in perspective. There’s a bench near the Coogee end where I sat and cried after particularly hard shifts during COVID. The ocean doesn’t care about your problems, which is oddly comforting.
3. Bradleys Head to Chowder Bay circuit
This walk saved my sanity during my divorce. It’s only four kilometres, but it packs in harbour views, military history, and enough hills to make you feel like you’ve done something. Start early on weekends before the wedding photographers claim every scenic spot.
The wharf at Chowder Bay is where I taught both my daughters to fish badly. We never caught anything worth eating, but that wasn’t the point. Sometimes the best adventures are the ones where nothing happens except time passing slowly with people you love.
4. The Spit to Manly walk
This one’s become almost too popular, but go on a weekday morning and you’ll have stretches to yourself. Pack lunch and eat it at Forty Baskets Beach – there’s a reason the locals guard this spot jealously. The Aboriginal engravings near Grotto Point are worth finding. Most people walk right past them.
A 2023 study from UNSW Sydney found that spending time in nature, referred to as ‘nature prescriptions,’ can improve both physical and mental health. I could have told them that forty years ago, but it’s nice when science catches up to what your body already knows.
5. The hidden beaches walk from Otford to Burning Palms
This is a proper adventure. Take the train to Otford, walk through the Royal National Park to Burning Palms beach. It’s isolated enough that you might not see another soul for hours. The track’s rough in places, and there’s no mobile reception, which feels like freedom.
I do this walk alone twice a year, usually after something difficult – a patient death, a hard conversation with my daughters, another birthday reminding me how fast time moves. The beach at the end has a small waterfall. Swim under it if you’re brave enough. The water’s always freezing.
6. Gordon’s Bay underwater trail
You don’t need to scuba dive. A mask and snorkel from Kmart will do. The underwater nature trail at Gordon’s Bay is marked with chains between concrete blocks. Follow them and you’ll see blue gropers, Port Jackson sharks if you’re lucky, and enough fish to make you forget you’re in the middle of a city.
I started bringing my grandkids here last summer. They think Nanna’s the bravest person in the world for swimming where sharks might be. I don’t tell them the sharks are harmless and more scared of us. Let them think their grandmother’s fearless. Some days I almost believe it myself.
7. West Head lookout and beaches
Drive’s not long from the northern beaches, but it feels like you’re hours from the city. The lookout gives you the whole of Broken Bay, but the real treasure is exploring the small beaches below. Take the track down to Resolute Beach. It’s steep and your knees will complain, but the beach is usually empty.
There’s a rock shelf at the northern end where I’ve spent entire afternoons reading, swimming, and wondering how I got so lucky to live in a city where this exists forty minutes from home. The Department of Planning and Environment found in 2019 that Sydney residents enjoy outdoor activities such as running, hiking, and beach swimming, and desire more high-quality open spaces and water-based activities. They’re right, but what they missed is that we already have more than most cities could dream of.
8. The Seven Bridges walk
Start at Fullers Bridge and wind through Lane Cove National Park. Seven bridges, each one different, crossing the river as it snakes through bushland. It’s long enough to feel like an achievement but gentle enough that I can take my ageing kelpie, Biscuit, on his slower days.
The best part is Step Bridge – it bounces slightly as you walk. There’s something about a swaying bridge over brown water that makes you feel properly alive. I’ve been walking this track for twenty years, and it still surprises me. Last month I saw a powerful owl. The month before, nothing but rain and mud and the sound of my own breathing.
These places have been my constants through shift work, single motherhood, the slow rebuild after divorce, and now this strange new phase of working less and living more. They cost nothing but time and effort. They’re always there, waiting, no matter what else is falling apart or coming together in your life.
My daughters roll their eyes when I suggest another coastal walk, but they come anyway. My grandkids think every outing with Nanna is an adventure, even if it’s just walking to Gordon’s Bay with sandwiches and a cheap snorkel. They’re learning what I learned all those years ago when money was tight and entertainment had to be free – that the best parts of Sydney don’t charge admission.
The city keeps growing, keeps building, keeps becoming more expensive. But the ocean still rolls in twice a day, the tracks through the bushland still lead to hidden beaches, and the rock pools still fill with creatures that remind you the world is bigger than your problems. All you need is time, sunscreen, and the decision to go.
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