Our next destination was the Amphitheatre.

If you haven’t read Carnarvon Gorge – Day 3 – Part 1 yet, I encourage you to do so as this post is a continuation of the adventure we had on our third day of bushwalking at Carnarvon Gorge.

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Leaving the Moss Garden behind and back on the main track, we ventured further into the gorge and, with the Amphitheatre in sight, we were edging ever closer to towering sandstone cliffs.

I had no idea what to expect when we arrived at the Amphitheatre. I knew it was an incredible area of natural architecture created over tens of thousands of years and carved out of the soft sandstone by the relentless force of running water.

Seriously, I had no idea much beyond that.

In fact, the Amphitheatre is a 60 m deep chasm (196.8 feet) hidden deep inside the gorge and is only accessible by climbing up a tiered (metal) ladder and walking through a narrow crevice.

And then you step out and into the most amazing place.

We were no longer edging closer to towering sandstone cliffs.

We were surrounded by them.

And we just sat there, soaking all of this in.

And the view looking up was just as captivating.

I’m pretty sure WOW is the right word.

We decided this was the perfect place to sit and enjoy our lunch and while we did, the group of walkers we’d left behind at the Moss Garden entered the Amphitheatre as they caught up with us.

One of the walkers took a seat and promptly sang Amazing Grace.

I can’t say you could have heard a pin drop, it was quite the opposite. Her voice resonated around the chasm and not another person spoke – or moved – until she was finished.

What a perfect thing to do, in the most perfect of places in which to do it.

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As we walked away and back towards the main track, I turned around and photographed where we’d been.

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When we arrived back at the main track Dean was eager to move deeper into the gorge and I guess Shelley would have been just as keen. I was not and had already calculated we had a 4 km (2.4 mi) walk ahead of us just to get back to the car. I know that doesn’t sound like a huge distance – heck, I go for a 6 km (3.7 mi) walk every morning.

But bushwalking is different and a much slower activity than walking around the neighbourhood or on other defined paths.

Fair enough, we were walking along defined tracks, but those tracks were dirt, uneven in places, covered by rocks in others, marked by several creek crossings, and in one spot (I estimated this was approx. 1 km/0.6 mi) the track was quite unforgivingly undulating with groups of two, three, four, and even five or six steps with clustered groups of these steps going up, other clustered groups of them going down.

Stepping up with tired legs can be one thing, but stepping down can be quite another.

I did not want to get or be so tired I couldn’t navigate that section of the track, so, I suggested we call it quits and rest up before visiting other areas the following day.

Begrudgingly, or perhaps not, Dean and Shelley agreed and we started retracing our footsteps. Yes, I struggled through that unforgiving undulating section of the track.

😂

Despite wanting to go further, by the time we got back to the car Dean and Shelley were both grateful I had insisted we call it quits. It had taken us 4 hours and 47 minutes and we’d walked 12.13 km (7.5 mi) on our third day. That had been more than enough for me.

After a quick dip in the pool for Dean and Shelley and a hot shower for me, we all enjoyed the afternoon relaxing, listening to the birds, and watching the kangaroos from the verandah of our glamping tent.

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We had one more day of bushwalking before heading home and two more areas to explore.