The Blue Mountains

We dithered about which one to take, however finally late yesterday afternoon decided on a Blue Mountains sunset bus tour. Adding a stop at an animal reserve or Scenic World seemed too much. Plus, we didn’t have to get up at o’dark hundred to get on the bus. It is amazing I can just look on line, then reserve our seats.

The weather was supposed to be cooler and perhaps rainy up there, so I wore long sleeves and my hoody, stuffing my raincoat in my backpack. We took cheese, crackers, and cookies for either lunch or dinner depending on how the day went.

Off to Central Station via the metro. Public transportation in Sydney is cheap, quick, and easy. Also clean. With the help of Google maps, we know which platform in which station we wanted. It even showed which exit we needed at the station, a great help to come out on the correct side of the street. In DC and New York, we often end up diagonally across from where we want to be.

Grabbing a coffee at the cafe next door, we took a seat in the lounge of the Mercure Hotel, where Dave, a Cocky Guide with Autopia Tours found us and showed us the bus. I grabbed the front seat. Yay! As with all bus tours, some other people got on with us, then we spent 1/2 an hour driving around the city, picking up others until all loaded, and we headed northwest out of town.

I have finally figured out why I can’t get oriented: the sun is north of me. I always know where I am, and where I am going. This trip, I just haven’t been able to do that. Not a problem when we were visiting Betsy, because she did all the driving. Nor on Norfolk Island where I just followed my map, turning right or left as it showed. 

Here in Sydney, I can’t feel north or south. Now I know why: the sun is not where I be used to. It reminds me of when I moved to Fort Lauderdale where the Atlantic Ocean is on the east, rather than the Gulf of Mexico on the west, like I’d grown up with. Took a while to get used to which direction was towards the water and which was away.

An hour and a half north on the M4, we got off near where a huge new Metro station is being built for another CBD. Now it is farmland, soon to be suburbs. Much of the drive reminded me of San Diego, with huge eucalyptus, except they are native here. We saw kangaroos! Like any good guide, Dave knew where the wildlife is. 

Next stop was town of Glenmore to buy lunch (spinach and cheese wrap for me, mince curry pie for Grant, a huge cookie to share). We also bought a bottle of wine for drinks at sunset. The frog tarts were cute. I should have asked what was in them.

Our main adventure was walking down to Wentworth Falls, about a 2 hour trip in total. Beautiful views across the valley to where we would see the sunset. We started down the many stairs and few level areas. The hearty rushed ahead, but we got to see a lyrebird.

I could hear other birds, but didn’t see them. After a half an hour, Grant decided to go back on his own, which worried me, but he said he’d be fine. 

I continued down, down. There were railings most of the places. At the falls, some opted to hike down to see the bottom. I chose to sit on a rock and enjoy the view. They also hiked up a steep trail to see the valley from a different point. 

Eventually, we headed back up a steep shortcut. My flat lander legs were not happy. But Grant was waiting for me at the top. All good.

Back in the bus, first a stop in the garden city of Leura for ice cream (we chose salted pistachio cones) amid the blooming cherry trees. Home of Paul Sorenson, a Dane who moved to Australia during WWI and created 100+ gardens, which is why there were so many flowering shrubs everywhere. And cockatoos walking around like pigeons. Amazing.

On to see Echo Point and the Three Sisters. I really liked the set of stone pillars with quotes leading down to the viewing platform. An aboriginal elder, Charles Darwin, a newspaper man, poets and novelists. My favorite was by Delia Falconer:

     “When I reached the lookout at Echo Point, the light was thick and golden as if it passed all day through a butterfly’s dusty wing.”

Enthusiastic people hiked down to the bottom where we picked them up. We retired to the View Bar and had a drink (bourbon for Grant, a beer for me).

Our last stop was Lincoln’s Rock, named after Aussie rock climber Lincoln Hall. We toasted the non-sunset (clouds were low). Leaving the park, we saw a tree filling with roosting silver-crested cockatoos, screaming away.

Dave drove us home in the rain that finally arrived. Dinner of ramen in our apartment.

Steps Today: 11,035