If you're looking for photos, they can be found here.

It all started at 4:49am when I was dropped at the bottom of the Harbour Tunnel and escorted up and out by four vehicles - a police motorcyclist, an RTA van, am RTA truck with a big mobile sign on the back to divert traffic, and my own Kombi van driven by my friend Paul, and also containing Karen, Greg, Christine and Jack.

The convoy moved out at a stately pace and eventually came to a halt at Woolloomooloo bay, chased by film crews from Channel Seven and Channel Ten. We had breakfast in The Bourbon and Beefsteak at the Cross (as you do), and gleefully examined the news stories in the morning papers.

Eventually, at 6:30, we all said goodbye, and off I walked.

The phone started ringing at about 7:00 - interviews with Sydney and regional radio stations - and didn't stop for the rest of the day. Channel Nine and Channel Ten (again) chased me around the southern suburbs playing TV camera leapfrog.

My old friend Paul joined me for five kilometres in Kensington, carrying his four-month-old daughter Georgia in a papoose. He walked with me along the noisiest road I'm going to traverse (the Airport underpass), and, amazingly, Georgia slept the whole way.

Towards Brighton my feet slowly began complaining of blisters, and their howls got louder and louder until, in moderate pain, I called Greg and demanded that he bring me my walking sandals to give me a respite from my expensive Italian trekking boots (I thought they'd been broken in enough).

With happy feet I made good time to Miranda, but the repetitive pounding on pavement soon took its toll, and I limped into Cronulla around 5:30. The pain was alarming. My strength and stamina were fine, but my feet felt like they'd been run over be a tank. I'm counting on their ability to toughen up, otherwise my estimate of three weeks to Kosciusko might be a little optimistic.

The highlight of my day was the phone call from a Cath Beardsley of Cronulla, who generously offered to let me stay with her and her boyfriend Jeff in their flat. Thanks Cath, you're a lifesaver.

It's into the Royal National Park tomorrow, accompanied again by Paul (no Georgia this time) for a possibly even tougher day than today.