Tales of the Witch in the Mountains

Prepare yourself for a tale of terror and awe, set high in a deserted village on the top of a misty mountain where a wicked witch runs rampant....

*cue thunderclap and organ music*

Ok, so I may be inclined to a touch of hyperbole. Not to say that the above statement isn't true; the mountains were misty, the town deserted and well...there was a witch. Honest. Allow me to  explain.

One Saturday morning a trio of intrepid explorers boarded the train from Sydney to begin their adventure in the famous Blue Mountains. There were initial fears over the weather as clouds could be seen spanning the horizon, but their prayers for sun soon seemed to be answered as the sun began to break through as they drew closer to the mountains.

Upon arrival at the town of Katoomba, the group were cheered by the sun, sounds of music and the sight of cheery townsfolk upon the streets, as well as a more general sense of joy at escaping the hubbub of city life on Sydney's Kings Cross.

They checked into their hostel, a spacious and comparatively grand affair compared to the humble abode they called home in Sydney. Their room was named after a waterfall in the mountains, Witches Leap, and little did they know how appropriate this name would be.

Initial dismay at the notice that all the parks were closed due to extreme hot weather the day before and fears of fire (fires which apparently made big news in the UK but not much was heard of them in Sydney itself), the group were not to be put down for long and with their bellies full of Subway they set off to explore the nearby villages and hopefully some of the sights the park offered.

****At this point a short interlude is perhaps needed as those that know me will be puzzled by the choice of Subway for lunch, I panic, there are far too many choices and I feel under pressure from the sandwich maker. This was averted by splitting a foot long sub with Lilly, she made the choices, I enjoyed the lunch and once more averted having to fend for myself. Yes, I know I sound pathetic, but we all have our shortfalls. Now back to the story...****

Like all good adventurers the trio had a map with them. Now this map was a most particular one. To begin with, it was the only free one they initially found in the hostel, this map was also a cartoon like impression map that outlined the major stops on the hop-on/hop-off bus tour. The main roads were more or less shown and the group figured that this would suffice for getting them along their way. The group soon discovered that the distances on this map were far from being to scale and that the position of place names didn't actually correlate with the place itself. (Gordon Falls was not that side of the Everglade Gardens as Charles' iphone delighted  in telling us once we'd walked all the way round!)

There were a few friendly arguments along the way, some back tracking, some cockatoo spotting, a burst of rain, the realisation that my legs were considerably shorter than my companions and that they didn't need to walk quite so fast, but eventually the group reached Gordon Falls.

On the grounds that it was cloudy and rainy, the group tactically ignored the reminder signs about the park being closed (as it was face down anyway this wasn't hard) and ventured the short distance to the Falls viewpoint. Not one of them was disappointed and all exclaimed their surprise and awe at the sight.

 

How refreshing it was to be surrounded by fresh air and this landscape, a welcome reprieve from the busy city.

 

Our adventurous trio were now faced with a major decision. The kind of decision that would shape the course of their adventure to come. Should they continue along the walking trail despite the technicality of the park being closed? They had come a long way and the weather was far from dry and hot, the path they desired also kept them close to the main road where escape could surely be reached if the warnings proved true. It was an easy choice. They walked on.

 

It was a good choice, the paths were mostly deserted with only a few other groups of walkers encountered. The saw many a spectacular view and by their estimations (based on useful signposts and the iphone more than the bus map) they calculated that they could easily reach the famous Three Sisters before sun down. Such was the aim for that day's quest.

 

Enjoying the views!

 

As they had not anticipated such a long walk, or the sun breaking through, the team soon faced new challenges. The day was warming up, humidity was high and the path had led up and down steep slopes and hills more times than the explorers could count.They were growing weary in the heat, yet fate smiled upon them and the group reached the Leura Cascades. With  a short leap through the metal railing, more a safety precaution than a prohibition, the explorers welcomed the chance to splash cold river water on their warm and aching limbs.

 



Refreshed and relaxed the group journeyed on. Yet the heat of the day was not done with them and the group began to worry as water supplies ran low, could they make it to the Three Sisters without water? No, they feared they couldn't. They decided to take a detour on the road and pray that the gods would be kind and present a restaurant or other establishment in which they could seek refreshment. The gods were indeed good and despite the restaurant seeming closed, a friendly if slightly dishevelled looking young man gave assistance.

The quest continued and all was well. The brave adventurers reached Echo Point and the Three sisters as a glorious sun set was beginning.

***This tale is getting long...sorry folks, I'll try to step it up***

That night the group sought succour in a nearby Indian restaurant. As they set out though they could not help but get an ominous feeling. The town was deserted. It was a Saturday night, where was everyone? All those people they had seen in the day,where had they gone? Maybe the disproportionately large number of churches were a clue, did everyone need an early night in order to be up early on Sunday? At any rate, they found it bizarre. At least there were a few people in the restaurant.

With a good meal filling their bellies and after a brief glass of fruit juice at seemingly the only pub in town, though this too was peculiarly quiet, they decided to retire for the evening ready for some serious trekking the next day. Yet the universe was not done with them. The ominous feeling they had at the empty town, the strange name of their room, all of this  was to come to a head when they returned and met the others in their dorm. One guest was a friendly British girl, off on her holidays, no problems there.

The other person was...different. Straggly grey hair surrounded her face in an unkempt mess, wrinkles lined her face like an old map, loose clothing billowed around her and with few teeth left in her mouth the utterances she kept making to herself were far from intelligible and may indeed have been ominous curses. Yes, there was a witch dwelling in Witches Leap, set to test our explorers courage and ability to withhold laughter and incredulity. (This may sound cruel, but the women did look the part and kept murmuring to herself and scratching her arms...loudly). This witch, sat for some time, staring across at the resident of the bunk across from her (me) whilst the weary explorer tried to sleep...creeped out is about the only description to offer on this matter.

The next day dawned with a thick mist filling the skies. The beautiful sight of the Three Sisters that had greeted the explorers had vanished.

Saturday evening

The next morning!

This didn't prevent our explorers from journeying on though. They chose to take the path along the forest floor where it wouldn't matter that the awe inspiring views were shrouded from them. So they began, with bags filled with supplies and a new maps that actually gave an indicator of distance.

Their journey began by descending the Giant Staircase. 900 steps that wind their way around the steep mountainside to the jungle below. As the forest became more visible through the mist, the cockatoos whose call had echoed around the group were soon spotted and the group felt like they were stepping into some sort of lost world as they trod the path alone.

Their adventures continued and in comparison to the heat of the day before the group began to feel a chill in the air, but with plenty of fruit and nuts to eat and a brisk walking pace they had no fears. Passing giant trees and soldiering through the numerous spider threads that crossed their path (well, Charles soldiered through to save the fair maidens from this task), they soon reached that days final destination of the Scenic Railway. The 52 degree angled railway, the steepest of its kind, was masked in a framework of scaffolding, fate once again graced the trio as it seemed this was the last day the rail was running till the autumn!

 

Sitting in extremely reclined seats (at least when the car was flat) the group sat in excited anticipation of the journey to come. With a speed that astounded them, the train shot backwards and up the mountain side. They barely had time to admire the fantastic views when the train picked up more speed and the group were shot into darkness and they hurtled through a tunnel.

 

 

An exhilarated trio laughed their way off the train and navigated their way through the gift shop. A decisive chill had now set in and the group decided that their journeying should now lead homeward. Back to the hostel to retrieve their possessions and finally board a train back to the hectic Cross.

 

They had been glad of an escape from the city and though the mountains sent them tests of opposing weather, of lack of water, of a strange witch in their room, the explorers had also enjoyed spectacular views and luck, wondrous sights and good company.

 

 

This blog was an exercise in a different style of narration, not sure how I feel about it really but it was fun to write. If you didn't like it then tough! Ultimately the Blue Mountains were a good trip out and it was great to get out the city for a while and do some hiking.

 

Tales of Fireworks and Floating Thongs

Here we are ladies and gents in a shiny new year, and I hope it shall be a very happy new year for all. Being in Sydney there really was only one way to welcome 2013 in and that was with THE fireworks.

**On a side note, I have had to write this entry twice as it didn't save the first time, so this time around I can't promise how detailed or eloquent my writing shall be as I'm a touch frustrated**

Almost every year on the 31st of December I've turned the television on to catch glimpses of the fireworks erupting over the bridge and opera house as Sydney welcomes in the New Year ahead of us. It seemed like something so remote and iconic that it never really occurred to me that I could be one of those watching it in person. But there I was, standing at Circular Quay with some good friends and a nigh on perfect view of the Harbour Bridge.

We hadn't really finalised a plan in advance, and in the days preceding the event those of us in the hostel kept turning to one another and asking if anyone had an actual plan. The closed we got it was clear that we all wanted a good view, and that to do so we'd need to get up relatively early and set up camp for the day.

Initially we thought about heading to the Botanical Gardens, but when we arrived it was a pretty enormous line that greeted us. Fortunately two of our merry number had gone on ahead and called us to say that they'd claimed a good spot at Circular Quay, but that we should hurry as it was filling up fast and like most of the areas with a good view in Sydney there were stewards and fences to ensure that only a set number of people were in those areas. After an extraordinarily speedy power walk, in which the boys of our company severely lagged behind - they clearly need more practise shopping - we arrived, to ridiculous heat and a flock of umbrellas.

          
We decided to take it in turns to stay at the blanket as the day was such a scorcher and passed the time going for walks around the quay or using our hour passes out of our little pen to go to the pub. Time continued its progress and we were entertained with planes doing tricks, some mysterious writing in the sky (we think it was TV station names being written up there) and eventually darkness fell.

I nearly forgot to mention how my thong ended up floating in the quay...how neglectful! At this point I would like to add that thong is the Aussie version of a flip flop, so no my underwear wasn't mysteriously thrown into the water.

Here in Sydney a strong breeze tends to arrive in the late afternoon, on New Year's Eve it was a welcome reprieve as the day was ridiculously hot. A particularly strong gust struck the onlookers of the quay side, leaving people holding onto their hats and bemoaning their reversed umbrellas, much to the amusement of those of us that didn't have any. A little while later a young boy was heard saying "Look! There's a thong in the water!". I checked mine as I'd removed them whilst sitting on the blanket, though I couldn't see how it would have been blown away. But, yeah, I could only find one. So I wander over to check and lo and behold, there in the water is my beloved flip flop, a noble companion that had travelled with me to all sorts of countries and adventures. Perhaps I over exaggerate my attachment a little. Yet it did leave me with a conundrum as obviously two shoes would be desired for the walk home. To cut this anecdote short, I am now in possession of a pair of slightly too large Aussie tourist themed flip flops. They're not the most comfy, but they're holding up well so far.

At nine we watched the first round of fireworks. There were even some in the shape of jellyfish, which is a pretty cool feat. I was amused to see that most of us were mainly watching the fireworks through the tiny screens on our cameras and phones, desperately striving to get various modes on our cameras working and capture the best of the fireworks. There we all were, surrounded by some very impressive and spectacular sights, watching it in a weirdly removed way. Of course I did try to make sure I looked at them in person too, and I suppose memories are fleeting and those slightly blurry photos with peoples heads in the fore ground are at least there to call my own.

Now began the wait for the last few hours. With the clubs along the quayside, filled with their exclusive ticket holding patrons, blaring out music, some impromptu dancing broke out on our blankets as our enthusiasm and energy from the fireworks took over. Card games were played as well and the harbour filled with lit up ships that slunk around and filled the time.

Midnight was close. In that bizarre way that some crowds develop we moved as one entity at around half eleven and stood from our blankets, holding our ground against the invaders that had arrived later than us and yet were trying to push in front. We waited. Small children and slightly short adults were perching on tiptoes, desperate not to miss a thing despite the obvious fact that fireworks  go up in the air (yes, of course I include myself in this category). A pair of neon lips appeared on the bridge and the countdown began.

To say they were spectacular was a bit of an understatement, and yes, maybe there are other firework displays that are more spectacular and smoothly put together without those awkward pauses where everyone looks around with a 'it can't be over yet, can it?' expression. But there I was, in Sydney, surrounded by friends and watching those bright eruptions over sights that I had only seen on television. It was definitely one of those 'once in a lifetime experiences'. Even if I were to return to Sydney in later years that group of friends that had assembled purely by chance, the chance of being in the same hostel,the chance of being the ones up and ready to leave at the same time that morning, wouldn't be present. Let's face it, part of a moment like that is the company. We'd spent over twelve hours in the same space waiting for this moment, and we weren't disappointed as fireworks leapt from the harbour, the bridge and buildings alike.

One of the crowning moments for me was when the bottom of the bridge appeared to release a waterfall of golden sparks into the water below.

The finale arrived, to much applause and the appropriate 'oo'ing and 'ah'ing that stereotypically accompanies fireworks. Smiles were everywhere and the mood remained jolly the whole way back home.

So there we have it, litres of suncream, a new pair of thongs, an assorted group of friends and two firework shows later, 2013 had begun. I can't wait to see what this year will bring if this is how it all began.