Travel Biography - Week 92.

Sydney's Superlatives.

Sydney remains the furthest point I have ever travelled to from home in the UK. It's just over 10,620 miles or 17,092 km from London, eleven hours ahead of Greenwich Mean Time. It's 33.68 degrees S. and 151.12 degrees E. Hence, Sydney was not only the most distant destination I have ever travelled to but also the furthest south. However, the furthest east I have been to was Byron Bay, New South Wales, which is 153.61 degrees E. For comparison, Sydney's latitude South has roughly the same equivalence on the Northern latitude as Pheonix, Arizona, Casablanca in Morocco, and Damascus in Syria, each of these cities close to 33 degrees North.

However, throughout my life's travels, there has been a contest on where the most westerly point I stayed. Checking between Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Vancouver, it looks to be in Vancouver, where I stayed in 1977, which lies 123.11 degrees W. In turn, San Francisco is 122.43 W, and Los Angeles is 118.24 degrees W. I stayed in both Californian cities in 1977, 1978, and again in 1995.

The only remaining record for the furthest North I have ever visited in 1990, for the matter of interest, is much closer to home. It's in the United Kingdom, the Scottish Highland village and port of John O'Groats, which is 58.64 degrees N. and just over 503 miles or 815 km from London.

Hence, despite being midwinter when I was in Sydney in 1997, I didn't feel cold. Instead, palm trees and other subtropical vegetation thrived. However, I still had to wear heavier clothing than those I wore in Singapore, and at the tropical regions of Australia's Pacific coast.

Preparing to visit the Blue Mountains National Park.

Soon after arriving at the YHA City Hostel, I found out about the Blue Mountains N.P. It wasn't far from Sydney compared to the rest of Australia, just a sixty-mile, two-hour train journey from Sydney Central. If any photo of the Blue Mountains N.P. was advertised, they would always show a picture of the Three Sisters, three pinnacles which make these rock formations the most important vista of the whole park, the central theme for advertising. Therefore, by the time I arrived there, I was already familiar with this geological feature.

The Three Sisters, Blue Mountains N.P.

General view of Blue Mountains from the rim.

Cliff formation.

The Hiking Trail

Another view of the trail with a safety rail.

As already mentioned last week, I reserved a bed at the YHA Katoomba Hostel for one night, allowing me ample time to explore the area, at least the most popular areas, and maybe do some trail hiking which comes naturally.

Blue Mountains N.P. has gotten its name from the blue haze that, on a calm day, hovers over the valley forested with eucalyptus trees. After arrival, I began to compare this valley with the Grand Canyon. As I have recently found out, there is a trail leading into the valley which is called the Grand Canyon Trail. However, back in 1997, the name of that trail may not have existed, as nothing about it was mentioned at the park or in any literature published at that time.

There is a resemblance between the Blue Mountains and the Grand Canyon. That was what I was thinking as I looked around. Each is a valley cutting into a plateau. But there were some striking differences too. While the Canyon is a sparsely vegetated desert cutting deeply through northern Arizona, the Blue Mountains is covered in forest and features waterfalls here and there. The Blue Mountains are not as deep as the Canyon, hence trail hiking is far less strenuous than the Arizonian equivalent. Also, here in Australia, the Park authorities have installed both a funicular railway (originally for industrial use) and a cable car, both of these too impractical at the Canyon.

That morning, from the hostel, I made my way over the short distance to the Central Station. It was the moment when I couldn't get the name of the destination station right. Instead of Katoomba, I was thinking of Kathmandu. When I approached the ticket office that deals with Cross Country Services, I tried to get the name across to the female teller at the counter. When I explained that I wanted to visit the Blue Mountains National Park, she kindly explained that the station I wanted was Katoomba and not the capital of Nepal! She then directed me to the Intercity Services ticket office. When I got there, I saw that the male teller was having a disagreement with a couple at the window.

I stood behind them and waited for my turn. How this couple got into a tussle with the teller, I will never know, but he refused point blank to sell any tickets to the couple. Both the young man and his girlfriend ended up pleading, but the teller was obstinate. He wouldn't sell the tickets to them. That means they were unable to board their train, as to get onto the platform, they would have to pass through the electronic ticket barrier. The typical laid-back temperament of the Aussie ticket officer has ruined the day's plans for the twosome.

Rock feature, Blue Mountains NP.

Cliff face Detail.

Waterfalls like this one were frequent.

Look Closely. Is that a Panther ahead?

The scene made me nervous as my turn came around. I nearly dropped myself in it when I asked, 

I wish to visit the Blue Mountains National Park. Is the station I need to get to Kath-?

"It's Katoomba." He cut in as he intervened. 

That's right, Katoomba. Do you sell return tickets?

"No, we don't. Singles only. Five dollars."

I thought that just five dollars for a two-hour journey was incredibly cheap when compared to our fares in the UK. I felt relief when the transaction was completed and walked away with the ticket in my hand.

I passed through the electronic barriers and boarded the train. It was an Intercity express bound for Katoomba and beyond, and I was rather surprised when I saw that not many were boarding. I almost had the whole carriage to myself. Furthermore, I was impressed with the seats. The backrest of each seat was moveable, and I could just either sit facing forward or sit facing backwards without the need to change seats. This was a feature I had never seen in trains elsewhere.

The train flew through one station after another non-stop until we were out of the city suburbs. After that, the train stopped at most stations until it pulled into Katoomba Station, where I alighted. The YHA hostel wasn't far from the station, and with the Book-a-Bed-Ahead scheme activated, I entered, expecting to claim a bed for the night. But shortly afterwards, the receptionist called me over (I was waiting in the games room) and apologised, saying that a group of students had booked in for that night. I was then told to find another hostel, as there were others in town.

Dismayed at the failure of the advance bed-booking scheme for the first time, I had to set out bed-hunting. Presently, I came across a private unaffiliated backpackers hostel and went in to ask if a bed was available. To my relief, I was offered one for the coming night.

The rest of the day I spent in the local area of the park. This included watching the afternoon sun shining on the Three Sisters, and even watching an Aborigene, naked except for his waist, playing the flute at the Three Sisters lookout. I did a bit of walking but decided to leave any serious hiking for the next day when I could take a late train back to Sydney.

Along the rim of the canyon, I watched climbers scramble around one of the Three Sisters, a cable car carrying passengers to the most startling views of the valley, and a fully functioning funicular railway. I was on a walk to the bottom of the valley when I decided to ride the funicular car back up to the rim just for the sake of the experience.

The Second Day Hike.

On the evening of the first day at Blue Mountains National Park, I followed the normal hostel procedure, shopping for groceries, followed by preparing and enjoying supper at the hostel dining room. This, I think, is the main difference between a hostel and a hotel. Hostel self-catering does wonders for the budget, and friendships could be made. The downside is the lack of privacy of sleeping in a dormitory and risking a night spoilt by someone's persistent snore. 

Leura Falls, Blue Mountains NP.

Parts of the Trail have safety rails.

Katoomba Falls

Empress Falls.

The next morning, I prepared breakfast and afterwards, prepared to vacate the hostel. With the main rucksack over my shoulders, I made my way along Katoomba Street to the Three Sisters. From there there was a trailhead, and I set off to do some serious hiking. I made my way down to the bottom of the valley and followed the trail. The forest around me became more dense as I walked further into the Park.

However, further along the trail, I saw a suspicious object some distance ahead. It looked like a panther or a bear. I slowed down as I felt my hair stand on end and my skin crawl. I was totally alone, no one was anywhere near me. I watched the object carefully for any sign of movement. There was no movement. Cautiously, I approached the object. It still didn't move. But as I drew closer, ready to sprint back if any movement was seen, I then realised that the object was a log. Just a log, an inanimate dead bit of tree. As I walked past it, I gazed at it, knowing that this was a classic example of pareidolia - like seeing a face in a curtain pattern in the middle of the night.

I hiked on, alone, on and on. I arrived at the first of the three waterfalls. This one was Katoomba Falls. Watching the water tumble down the cliff above me was the pinnacle of the visit to Sydney, perhaps more so than the splendour of the Opera House. After a while, I hiked on and on along the trail, until I arrived at the second waterfall, Leura Falls. Again, how wonderful it was to stand at the foot of a waterfall like these two, in solitariness in a wilderness just outside a major city. There was no other sound other than the warbling of the cockatoos echoing across the valley. I kept along the trail until I arrived at Empress Falls. From there, I decided to turn back.

How many miles I hiked on that day I couldn't tell, unlike that of the Grand Canyon where the Bright Angel Trail was well measured. But one big difference between New South Wales and Arizona was that here in the Blue Mountains National Park, I was totally alone on the trail. As far as I remember, I didn't pass by anyone else.

That evening, I boarded the train for the return journey to Sydney. At least, this time there were a lot more passengers occupying the carriage. Back at the City hostel, my bed awaits.

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Next Week: It's a Small World. Disneyland? No, Sydney.