Australian Adventure

Episode 12

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...in which our intrepid hero (that's me folks) and his lovely wife get up to all sorts of interesting things, before bidding a fond farewell to Sydney.

We're a T minus three and counting. This time on Saturday we'll be shoe-horned into our economy class seats for the long haul to Los Angeles, whizzing o'er time zones and Pacific islands on the way back "home" to Vancouver. I'm both looking forward to getting to Vancouver again, and a bit sad to be leaving Sydney. It's certainly been a super-soaraway fun-packed doozy of a six-months.

Realising that time was running out, Eve and I have nipped away for a couple of weekends, the main feature of which has been "getting close to nature", in all its leafy, mossy, sweaty, organic loveliness. Barrington Tops featured picture-postcard waterfalls, endless hills and trees, and more wildlife than you could aim a 4x4 at. Arriving late at night we had a merry game of "dodge-the-wallaby", then discovered that every cabin came with a resident possum (which, incidentally, were far bigger, but just as cute, as I'd imagined). Before she got to Canada Eve had always assumed that squirrels were the size of Labradors, and I was convinced that a possum was about the size of a small guinea pig. I guess we've both been watching a little too much nature-TV. A spattering of potteroos and a couple of tame kangaroos completed the wildlife experience.

The next weekend we took the the road again, this time heading for the Blue Mountains and, more specifically, the Jenolan Caves. These can be found right at the end of a long windy road that was significantly less entertaining in the rolly-Rav4 than it was in the sports car we hired a couple of months back.

We stayed in a hotel which seemed to exude either the elegance, grandeur and tradition of a time long past, or a faded fifties brown paint job, depending on the time of day. Still, we were there for the caves, and they certainly weren't a let-down. Incredible stalactite and stalagmite decorations, bizarre melted-wax effects and huge sheets of delicate, semi-translucent crystal all fell victim to a blast of my new Canon "supernova in a plastic case" flashgun. We spent about four hours inside, and it was worth every minute.

Many of the formations had names like Cleopatra's Couch, the Pillar of Hercules, River Nile, with countless pigs, crocodiles, buddhas, emus and snakes. Just goes to show that recreational drug use was well underway by the time the caves were found at the turn of the century. Funny how every formation in any cave around the world seems to be named after something demonic too. "Can anyone see the Satanic Hellhound? Looks a bit like a King Charles Spaniel. And if you'll follow me down these steps we'll move into the Firey Pits of Hades. Watch out for the step... ".

Not content with windy mountain roads we decided to totally trash the Rav's tyres on a 40km gravel track to Kanangara Walls. That much unsealed road weeds out the Sunday drivers, and the unfenced cliff-edge weeds out the children, so the stunning view from the lookout was interrupted only by the local birdlife, who had their voices switched to raucous mode. I can't do justice to the view in words, so you'll just have to ask to see my slides next time we catch up - go on, ask me, ask me!

And that brings us pretty much up to date. The bags are packed, the duty free is bought, relatives and new friends have been hugged and said goodbye to. Summer awaits us back in the northern hemisphere, along with a whole bunch of Canadians who speak kinda funny. It only remains to say:

Good on ya, Aus. It's been a blast.