I follow a group of Aussies up a rocky, uneven path between shops. Here’s the beach. It must be over 20 Celsius. Like a massacre, bodies litter the first section of sand. To my right the sand becomes rocks in a few hundred feet. To my left a meandering golden path finally curves on the horizon. Sea takes over.

It’s a walk of hidden corners and curves. I unpeel my sweaty trainers and sweatier shirt and sink with each hot step. Halfway to the horizon I lose most sunbathers. The warm air is odourless. The sea brushes the sand to my right, which gleams under the sun. I stop.

There’s nobody around, just the idyllic sea. Walking in the constant heat of the Noosa sun placates me. A browse of the website showed the maximum temperature all year is between 20 and 30 Celsius - an average of 19 in winter. Each corner provides a treat to the intrepid walker. A hidden cove for a young brother and sister to fish from; a tiny crescent of shaded sand for an old man to read in; a collection of dangerously slanted rocks for intrepid walkers to slip off.

www.tourismnoosa.com.au

Google map: tinyurl.com/mmreke

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In 1789 the lora Aboriginals of Gap Bluff, a tranquil jut of land facing out to the South Pacific Ocean, were devastated by either smallpox or chickenpox. Since then this part of the Sydney Harbour National Park has seen incredible change: the building of Hornby Lighthouse after the wrecking of the Dunbar, the establishment of the Royal Australian Navy Radar School, use of the land as a transit depot for officers serving in Vietnam, and the construction of gun batteries along South Head.

Away from the blustery Gap Bluff, back down the hill and west across the head of the land lies Camp Cove. I walk around South Head, past the nudist Lady Bay and Hornby Lighthouse, before returning to Camp Cove and wandering further south to Watsons Bay.

Camp Cove’s west-facing coast is stunning in its elegance. Spiders on silky sheet-like webs hang between trees. They watch. And these yellow orbs aren’t even dangerous. Think daddy long legs with longer, thicker, yellower legs. I keep a distance in case a gust of wind lifts an orb from the comfort of its web onto the slope of my shoulder.

Boats and yachts sail around the glimmering harbour at Sydney’s regatta. The evening's drawing in but that doesn’t stop countless tourists snapping photos or sharing a cold VB in a ‘stubby’ at the hotel. Children feed the squawking gulls as their grandparents sit back and absorb the sea breeze.

Buses 324 and 325 both go from Circular Quay to Watsons Bay. Ask the bus driver where to get off - it's very near the end of the route.

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