You’d be forgiven for expecting somewhere named Cockatoo Island to be a tropical idyll: a palm-fringed expanse where bright-white birds gather boastfully in the treetops above sandy beaches, and high-end hotels fill with holiday makers in search of paradise-on-sea. The reality is far less glamorous, and so much more fascinating – it's a surreally stunning concrete outcrop in the western corner of Sydney Harbour, framed by towering cranes and austere, brutalist buildings whose walls whisper secrets from Sydney’s past. The largest island in the city’s harbour, Cockatoo Island (Wareamah, in Dharug language) is a fascinating daytrip destination for so many reasons, but staying the night here is special beyond description. If you’re looking for a luxe stay in the Harbour City, look elsewhere. But if you want to stay somewhere that will truly transport you – a stay that will feel like a bizarrely beautiful escape from reality – I’d suggest booking a night on Cockatoo Island.
You can learn more about the history and heritage status of Cockatoo Island here.
We arrived just before dusk on a late summer Friday; the thick, unseasonal mist tightening its grip around the ferry as we pushed away from the city. It’s easy to find a perfect sunny-day-destination in the Harbour City, but there are fewer places that seem to come alive when cloaked in grey. With its spectacular industrial architecture and storied past, Cockatoo Island is one of them. I’m sure the island shines in the sunshine, too – the pale blue sky turning to tangerine above the harbour, buttery light washing the towering historic structures in gold. But the quiet, cloud-shrouded night we spent here seemed custom fitted to the location; like we’d stepped into a greyscale video version of Sydney from decades gone by.
Accommodation options on the island vary by budget: you can book a camping site (byo tent) for $50 per night, or splash out on a heritage-listed cottage (the largest sleeps 12 guests) for $625. If you’re doing Sydney on a shoestring, the camping option is a real winner – split a tent between four of you and you’re paying just over $10 per night to sleep, shower and… shave, with the camping site fully equipped with all the amenities you’ll need (including hot showers, barbecues, fridges and microwaves).
We opted for the Premium Deluxe Waterfront Camping: a $300 package that includes a furnished dome tent right on the water, decked out with a comfy double bed, a fold-out dining table, bean bag chairs and a welcome pack including perfect camping snacks (cookies and giant marshmallows) and some (non-alcoholic) drinks on ice.
With frequent ferries into the city and a store selling food, drinks and camping essentials, you can pack relatively lightly: either ferrying to Circular Quay for dinner or ordering one of the barbecue packs and cooking overlooking the water. Our barbecue pack featured all of the ingredients required to build the perfect halloumi burger (sans Kewpie mayo, but we’d packed our own), and we cooked under the canopy as the last drops of rain decorated the island like sequins.
In our eagerness for a Friday night away from the mainland, we’d packed art supplies and board games with every intention of using them, and instead spent three hours roaming the island: exploring cavernous buildings and winding our way up steep iron staircases, the lights of the Harbour Bridge sparkling in the east. In those vast, dark buildings – dating back as far as 1839, when the island was first used to house convicts arriving from overseas – it felt as though time had stopped and the rules of reality no longer applied. A night at the museum, but with the casting budget cut; just spectral heritage structures and the low, ever-present whisper of water against the island’s walls.
(N.B. Had we been looking for entertainment, we could have settled in for a free movie screening at the campground cinema – they screen two to three movies every night, free for all guests staying on the island).
After an unusually stressful week, I woke on Saturday morning to the sound of birdsong, a happy chorus that reminded me of childhood. We stretched in the sun then took a jog around the island, tracing the route we’d taken the night before. Before catching the water taxi across the harbour to Double Bay (Majestic Water Taxis can zoom you to several wharfs around the city if you’d rather avoid the crowds of Circular Quay), we ordered coffee at one of the waterfront cafés and reflected on our stay.
“Brutalist dream” were the two words I wrote down in my notebook, and I think that just about sums it up.
A stay at Cockatoo Island is a unique portal into the past: a chance to write your own story in a place that tells the history of our city without succumbing to Sydney’s signature sparkle.
You can learn more and book your stay here.
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