Garguree: The Gundungurra Bali

Sometimes the greatest adventures begin with a simple walk. I caught the train to Katoomba to continue my exploration of Aboriginal spirituality and the ancient cultures of Australia's First Nations peoples. I had no particular expectations, other than wanting to explore Gundungurra Country and discover something about the people who had lived there for thousands of years. After leaving the centre of Katoomba, I walked for approximately 30–35 minutes to a place called Garguree, also known as The Gully. What I discovered was far more than an ancient Aboriginal camping ground. It was a place that inspired me to imagine an entirely different way of life.

An Ancient Summer Paradise

For thousands of years, Gundungurra people travelled through the Blue Mountains along ancient pathways connecting places such as Burraborang, Kaimbla, Megalong and Hartley with Garguree. These journeys formed part of a sophisticated relationship with Country, shaped by seasonal changes, the availability of food and water, and connections between communities. Garguree was an important destination within this landscape, offering a sheltered environment with access to the natural resources necessary to sustain life.

As I sat overlooking the beautiful water, surrounded by the hills and vegetation of The Gully, I experienced an extraordinary sense of peace. I began imagining what life might have been like for Gundungurra families arriving here during the warmer months. I pictured children playing games, families gathering around fires, people fishing, sharing stories and enjoying the natural abundance of their surroundings. I imagined adults relaxing on the hillsides while children explored the landscape, with generations of families returning to a place they knew intimately.

I began thinking about something we rarely associate with ancient Aboriginal societies: leisure. Surely life wasn't simply an endless struggle for survival. Aboriginal people possessed extraordinary knowledge of their environments, including seasonal food sources, hunting, gathering and the management of natural resources. There would undoubtedly have been hard work, responsibilities and periods of scarcity, but there may also have been times when people's immediate needs were met, leaving opportunities for relaxation, recreation and celebration. Perhaps different seasons brought different lifestyles, with families anticipating the particular pleasures associated with returning to familiar places.

Just as Australians today might look forward to a summer holiday in Bali, I imagined Gundungurra families looking forward to spending time in this beautiful valley. It may have offered opportunities to reconnect with relatives, enjoy the warmer weather and experience the abundance of the surrounding landscape. In my imagination, Garguree became the Gundungurra Bali, not a commercial holiday destination, but a place of natural abundance, community, belonging and enjoyment.

A Little Piece of Heaven on Earth

After visiting Garguree, I began researching its history and was surprised by how closely some historical recollections resembled the feelings I had experienced there. The Gully provided Aboriginal people with access to water, timber, wildlife and other resources necessary for sustaining life. It was not simply a temporary camping ground. In more recent history, it became a permanent home for Gundungurra, Darug and other Aboriginal families, who developed a close-knit community within the valley.

One Elder described the area as a place that had everything people needed, including water, wood, game and an extraordinary variety of birds. The description that particularly resonated with me was that Garguree had been "a little piece of heaven on earth." This was remarkably close to what I had felt while sitting beside the water, contemplating the lives of the people who had lived there. Although I cannot know whether Gundungurra families thousands of years ago experienced Garguree as the summer paradise I imagined, the recollections of more recent Aboriginal residents suggest that it was a cherished place to call home.

The experience also made me reflect on the meaning of abundance. In modern society, we frequently associate wealth with accumulating possessions, earning more money and continually increasing our material standards of living. Yet perhaps abundance can also mean having enough food, adequate shelter, security, meaningful relationships and time to enjoy life. For the families who lived at Garguree, the valley offered access to resources alongside the relationships, cultural connections and sense of belonging that made it their home.

When Paradise Became a Racetrack

However, the history of Garguree also contains a deeply troubling chapter. In 1957, Aboriginal families were displaced from The Gully as the area was transformed into the Catalina Park motor racing circuit. A landscape that had sustained Aboriginal connections for thousands of years was dramatically altered to accommodate a racetrack, disrupting homes, community relationships and longstanding connections to Country.

The contrast between these two uses of the landscape is difficult to comprehend. For generations, Aboriginal families had lived in this valley, maintaining relationships with the environment and one another. Then, within a remarkably short period, their community was displaced to make way for a recreational facility. Where children had played and families had gathered, racing cars would soon compete. A place associated with belonging and continuity was transformed according to a very different vision of how the land should be used.

To me, the racetrack represents something deeply symbolic about the collision between different relationships with the natural world. Aboriginal connections to Garguree had developed over thousands of years through knowledge, cultural responsibilities and relationships with Country. The construction of Catalina Park reflected a development approach in which the recreational use of the land was prioritised over the Aboriginal community already living there. I see in this transformation a symbol of greed, where the pursuit of development and entertainment came at the expense of people's homes, cultural heritage and longstanding relationships with the landscape.

The tragedy was not simply the construction of a racetrack, but the disruption of a living community and the loss of a place that generations of Aboriginal families had called home. The history of Garguree reminds us that dispossession was not confined to the earliest decades of European colonisation. Aboriginal families were still being displaced from their homes well into the twentieth century, with consequences that continue to be felt by descendants and communities today.

The Survival of Garguree

Fortunately, the story of Garguree did not end in 1957. Aboriginal families and their descendants continued to maintain their connections with The Gully, preserving memories of the community that had once lived there and advocating for recognition of the area's cultural significance. In 2002, The Gully–Upper Kedumba River area was declared an Aboriginal Place, formally recognising its importance to Aboriginal people and their continuing connections with Country.

Today, Garguree remains an important place for descendants of former residents and the wider Aboriginal community. Although the remnants of the Catalina Park racing circuit remain visible, the valley is also a place of remembrance, cultural connection and environmental restoration. The stories of families who lived there are being preserved through oral histories, interviews and community projects, ensuring that future generations can learn about the lives and experiences of the people who called Garguree home.

What Garguree Taught Me About Abundance

I travelled to Katoomba hoping to learn something about Aboriginal spirituality. I expected to encounter stories about creator beings, ancestral spirits and sacred landscapes, but instead found myself contemplating something much more ordinary, yet perhaps equally profound: the happiness of everyday life. Sitting beside the water, I began thinking about the importance of family, the pleasure of returning to familiar places, the relationship between people and their environment, and the possibility that a fulfilling life does not necessarily require endless material accumulation.

My vision of Garguree as the Gundungurra Bali remains an imaginative interpretation rather than a documented account of ancient life. Nevertheless, it has encouraged me to explore Aboriginal history from a different perspective. Rather than viewing Aboriginal societies primarily through the challenges of survival, perhaps we should also ask how people experienced happiness, leisure, abundance and belonging. Aboriginal life undoubtedly involved hardship and responsibility, but it also encompassed family relationships, recreation, celebrations, cultural traditions and the enjoyment of living within familiar environments.

There is also a spiritual dimension to this understanding of Country. Aboriginal spirituality cannot be separated from relationships with land, ancestors, community and the natural world. While creator beings and ceremonial traditions are important aspects of Aboriginal spiritual life, the everyday experience of belonging to Country may also provide insights into how people understand their place within the world. Garguree reminded me that a landscape can be much more than a collection of natural resources. It can be a home, a source of identity, a place of memory and a foundation for community life.

A Walk That Became an Adventure

When I left the centre of Katoomba, I thought I was simply going for a walk. Thirty-five minutes later, I found myself contemplating thousands of years of Aboriginal history, the meaning of abundance and the devastating consequences of dispossession. What began as a visit to an ancient camping ground became an exploration of the relationship between civilisation, Country and human happiness. My subsequent research only deepened the experience, revealing the stories of Aboriginal families whose lives had been intimately connected with the valley.

Perhaps that is what makes these adventures so rewarding. Sometimes we do not need to travel thousands of kilometres to discover something extraordinary. We simply need to walk half an hour from a railway station, spend time experiencing a landscape and begin asking questions about the people who lived there before us. What initially appears to be a simple destination can reveal layers of history, culture and meaning that we might otherwise never have considered.

Garguree was once described as a little piece of heaven on Earth, and after spending time there, I can understand why. I left with a sense of peace, but also with a deeper appreciation of the cultural connections that were disrupted when the valley became a racetrack. I cannot help wondering how different our world might be if we placed as much value on protecting places of belonging and natural abundance as we do on transforming them for economic development.

My first adventure exploring Gundungurra Country has left me with far more questions than answers, and I look forward to returning to the Blue Mountains to continue learning. If a simple walk to Garguree can reveal so much, I can only imagine what future journeys might uncover.

This article reflects my personal experience of visiting Garguree. My imaginings of ancient Gundungurra life are not intended to represent traditional cultural knowledge. I hope to deepen my understanding through Aboriginal oral histories, historical research and conversations with Gundungurra knowledge holders.