The most beautiful place in Australia

Sunday 19th June. A rainy, miserable day. The day I went to the most beautiful place in Australia: the Wentworth Falls.

The Wentworth Falls are in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney. I arrived at Wentworth Falls railway station around 1.30 in the afternoon. It was raining steadily.

There was a 3 km track from the train station to the Falls, called the Charles Darwin walk. The track followed the Jamison Creek downstream. The path had standing puddles, some of them ankle-deep, but I had waterproof boots, a waterproof jacket and waterproof trousers. Near the beginning of the track I encountered three male travellers wearing jeans, hoodies and trainers. They were soaked.

The stream was flowing nicely from all the rain we've had lately. There were some pretty rapids and small waterfalls, and a few bridges over the stream. The gradient wasn't very steep at this point, so it was easy going. The main sediment being sand, the track was thankfully not muddy. At one point there was a rock overhang right above the river, with ferns growing all over the rock face. The surroundings were mostly woodland.

I got to Weeping Rock, a small waterfall (maybe 3 metres or so), where the track skirted the edge of the rocky river bed. With the water level so high, the track was underwater. There were two photographers at the bottom of the falls. We didn't have a conversation, as we would have had to shout over the roar of the fall. A few comments were made about the wetness.

I continued on. At this point water was seeping through my waterproof trousers at the knees and my arms were wet, either from a failure of my jacket or by gradual creeping up from my hands.

I wasn't expecting the Wentworth Falls themselves. I didn't really know what I was going to see when I set out, so I was overawed.

The path crossed the river via stepping stones at the top of the Falls. There was a fence across the river on the downstream side and a warning sign saying not to climb over the fence - there was a 100-metre drop on the other side. From the top, the river plunged down three great drops into a bowl-shaped valley that was hidden in mist. The valley sides were almost vertical, of prettily coloured sandstone. The path wound down the side, hugging the cliff, with a switchback of steps disappearing from view. The valley was hundreds of metres below me. I could not see the bottom for the fog.

My awe made it worth every drop of rain now seeping through everything except my boots - including my hat.

I descended the Great Staircase towards the bottom of the valley. The original track had been cut out by five men over two years, finishing in 1908. Apparently the different villages in the Blue Mountains were all competing about who could offer the most beautiful walking tracks, to attract tourists. A hundred years later, in 2008, a major refurbishment of the track had been completed, and eight years after that, I thought Wentworth Falls had definitely won. I thought briefly about the inevitable ascent back, but the place was magical so I didn't care.

I got to the bottom, where the track crossed the river again. Except it wasn't the bottom. I had got to the bottom of the second drop, and there was one more below me. There was no fence or rail at this crossing, only stepping stones, and it occurred to me that the water level would keep rising from all the rain, possibly rapidly, so I shouldn't go too far on the other side. It was also 14.30, so I had to be mindful of it getting dark, in a couple of hours. It was winter, after all.

I stood watching the waterfall for a while before crossing. The water sprayed my face, the wind blowing it in my direction. It was another magical moment. The place reminded me of Milford Sound in New Zealand - the real magic of the place came out in rainy, foggy weather. Normally the Falls are just a trickle.

I hopped (ok, walked) over the crossing and followed the path on the other side until I got to the intersection of the National Pass track with the Wentworth Pass track. There were overhangs along the track. One was so low I had to crouch when I walked through. Another had a waterfall flowing over it, created by all the rain, so I could walk behind the waterfall and watch the world from behind a curtain of water.

The ascent back to the top was shorter than I thought it would be. It was also beautiful. The crossing midway was still fine, the water hadn't risen noticeably.

Back at the top and across the river once more, I followed the interestingly named Undercliff track for a while. There were many overhangs on this track, all of them awesome. I love cliffs. The trails in that part of the national park were incredibly inviting, but eventually I had to turn back.

As I headed back towards Wentworth Falls Station, I noticed that there was indeed more water in the river and on the path. The path now resembled a tributary stream, with long stretches of flowing water. The parts that had been ankle-deep were now deeper and many other parts were ankle-deep. I discovered that there was a limit to walking in a stream with impunity, as my boots soaked through.

The river had risen as well. A sandbank that I had walked onto for a better view of some rapids was now underwater - by about 10 cm. The river must have risen 20 cm in places. The rapids that had had a good flow before were now raging torrents.

I walked back briskly and entered a cafe near the train station. As I was dripping on the floor, a barista said to me, "You want a hot drink, don't you." It was not a question.

I took off my soaked jacket and overtrousers and took out my tablet, phone and changer. Thank goodness I had not brought my camera. Everything was wet. However, I was lucky as well as I was ill-prepared - everything still worked. I wrote this blog post on the tablet.

There was a group of people leaving the cafe as I explained to the barista how beautiful my experience had been. One of the women said to me, "I have a spare umbrella in my car. May I give it to you?" People are so kind and amazing.

As I sat on the train to Sydney, it occurred to me that I had never before been in a situation where everything I had was soaked. On hikes and scout camps, no matter how much it rained, I would have some spare dry clothes to change into. Now everything was wet, even the sleeping bag I had with me that I snuggled into to keep warmer on the air-conditioned train. (Some people looked at me strangely, but that's ok.) It all started with me leaving my backpack cover on my floor at home and continued with me not asking for plastic bags to put my things into until I got to the cafe. There I asked for two plastic bags to put my miraculously survived electronics into.

I realised just how important it is to have dry clothes. I would not have any until I got home or the clothes on my back dried. Underwear takes an awfully long time to dry through all the layers.

The Wentworth Falls were worth all of it. The view was just breathtaking, the most beautiful thing I've seen in Australia so far. I will carry this memory with me wherever I go.