The Hawkesbury River is about 50km north of Sydney and is the next big estuary up from Sydney Harbour and the Parramatta River. I was told it was a picturesque place to visit and I made my way up there by train one Saturday. The village by the station was a lot smaller than I'd been led to expect - just a couple of restaurants and a marina. It was called Brooklyn and couldn't have been less like the New York borough. Some say it was named after a town in Holland called Breucklen, others reckon it got its name from the Brooklyn Bridge Company of NYC who built the first railway bridge across the river. Before the bridge, the train stopped on one side and resumed on the other, and passengers had to take a paddle steamer across.

I wandered over to Flat Rock Point and the next town along and saw a gang of pelicans. I treated myself to a really tasty lunch of grilled barramundi and a glass of wine in a restaurant overlooking the little harbour and watched people struggling to moor and unpack their fancy yachts. I sat next to a table of three: a couple who were having an argument and their long suffering friend. From the sound of it, the row had been going on for some time - possibly many years - and they were obviously well practiced at hurling insults at one another. Every time the husband opened his mouth, the wife would scream "Oh shut up Walter, for goodness sake, no one cares what rubbish you have to say."

I escaped being within earshot of them with relief, and caught a ferry to Dangar Island, in the middle of the river. Originally called "Mullet Island," it was visited by Governor Phillip a few weeks after arriving in Sydney when they sailed up the coast looking for farming land. There are about 200 people living there now, but it feels like a lot fewer as there are no cars and it's a tiny place. The people on the ferry seemed like a weird bunch - mainly aging hippies with guitars - and I wondered if that's inevitably what happens to you when you live on a teeny island. It was only after the boat had docked and someone asked me if I knew where the fancy dress party was taking place, I realised I had mis-judged my fellow passengers. It turned out it was a 40th birthday Beatles themed party. Or at least, that was their excuse...

The island was small but very peaceful and wooded. There were grassy patches and beaches and lots of children climbing trees and riding bikes. It would be a great place to grow up, but you'd have to get on with your neighbours.