Pink Marshmallows Taste Like Cough Syrup

Happy Campers

Which is probably why they don’t eat smores in Australia.  We did not attempt to makes smores with the pink ones (supposedly raspberry flavored) but even the white marshmallows were vanilla flavored.  Odd, I was under the impression that marshmallow was already a flavor.  But the Arnott’s Nice Biscuits, made a suitable replacement for Graham Crackers, and the Lindt 70% Cocoa Bar was almost too good to be combined with those highly flammable excuses for marshmallows.  Perhaps smores are best left for American camping excursions.

Our campsite, in lovely Royal National Park, like the rest of the country, was dominated by the birds.  An afternoon of pleasant twittering becomes an evening of cockatoos screeching, in dinosaur like tones, as they eat off the picnic tables and try to steal your bag of trail mix.  Be wary, their beaks are powerful enough to break the plastic within seconds.  And with the first light of dawn, what begins as one or two birds chanting their characteristic calls, quickly became what sounded like every bird in the park trying to out call  every other.  It was as if someone in master control had decided to play every track at once, while amping the volume to eleven.  Good thing I’m a heavy sleeper.

In addition to the birds, our weekend of camping introduced us to one large ring tailed possum, which I wouldn’ t have seen if he hadn’t made an audible thump as he dropped from the tree behind me in the dark, a semaphore crab, whose little red pinchers made it clear how crabby he really was, tiny little bugs that attempted to dig into my beach towel, several ants large enough to tote away whole grains of rice, and a purple stinger jellyfish which was most certainly not the harmless kind.  It’s a good thing the water is so clear here.  One particularly cheeky spider even made the journey back in my pack, and survived six sneaker stomps before the fatal seventh.  Seriously . . . tough country.

Perhaps the best part of our short lived camping adventure, in addition to the beautiful beach and clear water of Simpsons Bay, were the happy campers we shared the site with.  One man, from a large family group with lots of hyperactive kids, loaned us chairs for the night, which proved essential.  Our tiny double tent and otherwise empty plot, did seem rather pathetic compared to their multiple dining tables and Taj Mahal of tents.  It was very nice of them to share the wealth.  And the generosity did not stop there.  We decided to leave a day early, a decision which confirmed my faith in my good instincts, as a rain storm struck while we were half way to the ferry stop.  While waiting for the deluge to subside in the portico of a local gas station, and by that I mean THE local gas station, a woman materialized from the pumps next to us, and offered us a ride.  Her serendipitous offer got us to the ferry just in time to discover that it had been delayed long enough for us to pile in with all the other soggy beach goers.

Once back in Sydney, we decided to polish off our wilderness weekend with a little tour of some slightly more contained bits of it, in the Sydney Aquarium and Sydney Wildlife World.  The aquarium was great reminder of the amazing beauty just off of Australian shores, as well as a great refresher course in what can and can’t kill you.  Okay, so jellyfish stings should be flushed with vinegar, and blue bottle stings should be flushed with hot water.  Check.  And I didn’t even know what a dugong was, until I met “Pig” the dugong.   In case you were wondering, they aren’t manatees, but are also called sea cows.  I hope they don’t find that offensive.

Wildlife world offered the opportunity to pet stick bugs, snakes, blue tongue lizards, and to hold the butterflies.  It does, however, cost extra to pet the sleepy little koalas.  But perhaps that’s best, since I now know that their young have to eat their mothers droppings, to gain a resistance to the poisonous eucalyptus plants that leave them in their life long stupor.  It’s a good thing eucalyptus is breath cleansing.

Take a look at my flickr photos to see more from our weekend of close encounters.

But that’s not the weirdest thing I’ve seen today

I’ve met at least two ex-pats, now living in Sydney, who have both used the same word to describe Australia . . . weird.  Keep in mind, I am talking about people who, long ago, chose to make Australia their new home.  So they really mean that in the most affectionate way possible.  Even a native Australian used weird, in addition to wild, to describe everything outside of New South Whales.  “Placeism” aside, he was really just trying to sell me on the idea of traveling, something I don’t need encouragement to do.   I think weird becomes the default word choice, because without experiencing a bit of Australian life for yourself, you would never really understand how weird it actually is.

And I haven’t had to leave Sydney to experience a taste of the weird.  All it takes is a lengthy walk through any neighborhood to discover bits of nature tucked into the metropolis, well preserved history around the corner from new developments, and odd sites that seem to exist without explanation, but have become accepted parts of the urban landscape.  This weekend, which began when a spiderweb almost knocked the sunglasses off my head (tough spiders!) and ended with a John Dee Rump steak (I also ate some John Dory fish) serves as a pretty good example of weird.  So, sparing you photos of the disemboweled possum I saw yesterday, I now take you on a photographic journey through this weekends discoveries.

I saw the same rock pool both with and without water.  The tides change dramatically and rapidly around here, even in the harbor.

Rock Pool with WaterRock Pool without water

Took a walk through Luna park.  Which gets scarier every time I see it.

Creepy Clowns

Discovered even scarier sites just outside of the park.

Creepy Twins

Found a long abandoned ship, beached near a busy harbor.  No one seemed to think that was strange.

Abandonded

Met a hungry Emu.  Okay, that was at the zoo.  But still, he was in the “walkabout” section where the animals are not in cages.  If I had offered him a finger, I’m sure he would have taken it.

Hungry Emu

And I took a long walk through some “horror moviesque” isolated wilderness, only a short walking distance away from one of Sydney’s most popular beaches.

Scary Shelter

Lonely Beach

Luckily, I am the type of person who equates weird with words like, interesting, exciting and adventurous.  I can’t wait to see how much weirder this country gets.

Check out the rest of my photos on flickr.

The Blue Mountains really do look blue!

Do what thou whilt, Live

Before I ever visited the Blue Mountains area I had heard that, as far as mountains go, they were less than impressive.  Yes, they are technically not mountains, but a plateau that eroded, blah blah blah.  And they may not be quite as high as the peaks in Yosemite, but they are far from the tiny hills they have been made out to be.  Standing at Echo Point in Katoomba, a funky backpacker-friendly town on the edge of the mountains, you look out over the Jamison Valley at an impressive expanse of tree covered land.  On each peak, the cliffs make a sheer drop off for at least 100 feet before disappearing behind the deceptively thick cover of eucalyptus trees and bushlands.  And with the odd blue tinted mist hanging in the air, the mountains looks very worthy of their reputation for swallowing up early settlers and modern British backpackers.

Most of the hikes from the Katoomba area follow the cliffs around the edge of the valley, descend into the bottom or, if you are feeling very ambitious, climb back out again.  We learned, luckily the easy way, that the best thing to do is climb down rather than up, when we took the approximately 1000 Furber steps down toward the valley floor.  The steps, made of everything from packed earth to cut stone and even metal staircases where the earth has worn away, also vary constantly in height, width and likely hood of making you fall on your butt (which I did).  But only by actually getting to the valley floor can you really appreciate the varied environments the Blue Mountains have to offer.  The dryish, scrubby bush at the top of the peaks changes to a cool, shady, almost tropical forest at the bottom, where tall green trees grow out of the thick bed of ferns.  The shady nooks between the cliffs contain hidden waterfalls that trickle down to form dark creeks winding amongst the rocks and trees.  And like everywhere else I’ve been in Australia, the birds in the Blue Mountains provide a consistent soundtrack for your journey.   The squawks and pips of the birds foraging in the bush eventually get overpowered by the echoing shriek of the cockatoos soaring overhead.

Once we had finally reached the bottom of the steps, we had the privilege of being zoomed back up to the top by the Scenic Railway, a journey well worth the $10 ticket price, especially going up.  The 51 degree incline railway shoots up between the trees and through a dark tunnel in the mountains, with the speed and rumbling reminiscent of the theme park ride.  The theme park experience continues at the top where you exit the railway straight into the gift shop of Scenic World, a hub for all visitors eager to take a trip on one of the many scenic trams or see the IMAX show about the Blue Mountains.  We didn’t stay long.

After a pleasant night in the civilized comfort of our room in Katoomba’s Lurline house, we set off on our journey to head the opposite direction from Echo Point toward the town of Leura.  Strong winds during the night had littered the hiking paths with long curls of eucalyptus bark.  And the Monday morning hikers were sparse compared to the Sunday afternoon crowd.  The first stop we were sure to make on the way to Leura was the bridge out to the iconic Three Sisters (much smaller in person than they would appear on a postcard, but still pretty impressive).  From the point overlooking the peaks the only sound we could hear in the valley below, was the faint tinkling bell birds.  The extraordinary call they made, really did sound like the bells of a million tiny little dairy cows escaping from their pastures.  The trip down to the Three Sisters also gave us a taste of The Giant Staircase, another way to descend to the valley floor using an incredibly well worn staircase.  After the Furber steps the previous day, I was content to stay towards to top.

3791729902_f814be3ac1

After another few hours of going up and down a surprising amount, we found ourselves at the lovely Leura Falls, another beautiful gem hidden beneath the trees.  And eventually we managed to hike our way out of the valley and into the town of Leura.  Although a little more refined looking than it’s well worn counterpart Katoomba, Leura still offers the same thing that I suspect most of the towns on the Blue Mountains train line do; one central street with restaurants, antique shops and local crafts, that disappears after a stretch of about two blocks.  When we found out our train was going to be delayed for  two hours, I got to know those two blocks very well.

Since it only takes two hours on the train to get you too the Blue Mountains, and once there you have no shortage of ways to exercise your thighs, I will certainly be going back again.  Hopefully next time we can camp somewhere in the peace and quiet of the valley, without getting swallowed up by the mist.

Check out the rest of Gabe’s photos and my photos on Flickr.