Les Bleus

I arrive in Katoomba and realize my cotton jacket isn’t enough to fight the chill. The temperature difference from Sydney is quite marked. Add to that a slight drizzle and a lot of mist. Uh oh. I walk to the information kiosk and ask for directions to the Central Backpackers. She very politely sends me down the wrong road. After walking with my bags for about 200 meters, I realize and call up the Backpackers. I don’t know why I didn’t think of doing that before.

I check into my modest little room. Very very modest. And very very little. By the time I am ready to hit the road, the weather has deteriorated further. I catch a trolley to Echo Point to see the famous Three Sisters and the Jamison Valley. Unfortunately, visibility has gone for a toss. White fog has risen from the valley and nothing beyond the fog is visible. I pray for improvement and while away time by eating greasy fries and shopping for souvenirs for friends. Thankfully, some of the fog clears up. I quickly get some photos of the Three Sisters rock formation, then climb down to it, and then take the Giant Stairway to the bottom. It is not an easy descent. I am tired. But I need to climb up again so I can take the famous Scenic Railway. The ride isn’t scary. It is fun. The train goes down to the valley at an angle of 45 degrees. Apparently it was meant for the coal miners of Katoomba at one point of time. After that I do the forest trek, which is to be followed by the cable car ride over the waterfalls. I just about manage to catch the last ride and then the last bus back to the hotel.

I have walked through the clouds
and misty mist
so light and white
like candy floss.
No wonder
I leave your dreams all dewy.

It has started to rain. Not the perfect day to visit the mountains. But then, I don’t have the luxury of time. I return to my dilapidated room. There are always a million appliances to charge, and just one plug adapter. I charge my laptop, my camera batteries and my phone in shifts. Dinner is a cheap and well-done burger at a country inn. And some good Australian wine. It is smooth, and I am tired. It is a good end to a less than perfect day I think. But I think I spoke too soon. The backpacker doesn’t provide blankets, and the temperatures begin to dip at night. The rain probably isn’t helping. I change from shorts to denims. Then come the socks. Finally I put on the jacket as well. No. The cold doesn’t allow me to get much sleep. Twisting and turning all night, I decide to leave for Sydney on the first train in the morning. The train leaves at 8:25 am. I have no idea how I made it in time, specially when I was still trying to get my key deposit back at the Backpackers at 8:15. A bit of an adventure and race to the finish line, but I am finally in. I manage to catch some sleep on the train… which is good. I don’t want to waste the day sleeping in Sydney.

I have checked in at the Y Hotel on Hyde Park on my return. Sydney has such a London influence. Oxford Street. Bond Street. Piccadilly. Hyde Park. It is a lovely sunny day and I plan to make full use of this opportunity. I am off to climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge in some time. So long.


(written on Tuesday, 6 March 07)