By the time we reached Mrs Macquarie’s Chair (10.2 kilometres into the walk, at 10.45pm) the activity was shutting down. A lost French tourist asked for directions back to the Opera House. In a pool of light, a couple were photographing each other on their motorbikes with the harbour as a backdrop.

The real Dusk to Dawn walk will have three rest stops, with food, drink and toilets, the first at Woolloomooloo. We didn’t have that option, so we called into the Woolly Bay Hotel for a lemon squash and a water bottle refill.

Walking through Potts Point and Kings Cross close to midnight, the only people on the street were either walking their dogs or smoking outside apartment buildings. Ten minutes apart, two police cars cruised slowly past.

By 1am, we had reached Yarranabbe Park in Darling Point (21.1km into the walk) with the harbour glassy smooth and no sign of rain. While Farmer had barely broken a sweat, I needed a few minutes on a bench when we reached Double Bay at 1.35am. It was almost eerie how silent the eastern suburbs had become. Even the fruit bats seemed to be asleep.

Despite the lulling rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other, I wasn’t feeling sleepy.

After climbing Heartbreak Hill at 2.30am, we saw a fox nonchalantly crossing Vaucluse Road into Kincoppal-Rose Bay School, presumably hoping for scraps left over from lunch.

While we were having a breather with an energy bar near Doyles at Watsons Bay at 3.50am, after covering 30.2 kilometres, a handsome and seemingly tame fox approached for food. When we set off along the path by the water, it followed us along the beach.

Heading back from a loop to Camp Cove, we saw another fox dart into the bush opposite Watsons Bay Boutique Hotel. After the last big hill on Old South Head Road just after 4am, we took the darkened coastal path rather than the road – the first time I’d needed a headlamp to see where we were going.

I was startled by a panting jogger approaching suddenly at 4.15am. Approaching Bondi at first light, Farmer was striding along as if he were just starting. I was counting down the kilometres and walking like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz.

At 6am, we arrived at the beach, attracting curious looks from early morning exercisers as photographer Louise Kennerley took some pics.

Over almost nine hours of walking – plus 45 minutes of breaks – it had been a unique way of seeing this great city. Later in the day, it would be painful to walk. But it had been worth it.