Our First Days Down Under...

Hello from Australia! As I write this I sit in a hostel in Katoomba - a small town located close to the Blue Mountains which are a two hour train ride from Sydney. Australia has thus far proven to be as exciting and as wild as you would expect from the only island large enough to also be a continent. We've seen only the tiniest bit of this place and already we've got so many stories to tell! So let's get to it shall we?

Our flight out of New Zealand was scheduled for 6:30 am so we got up at 3:00 am to catch a ride to the airport with our gracious host/taxi, Hamish. His job as the "muffin man" for a local bakery starts at 4 am so it worked out well that we could ride with him. However, this convenience didn't make 3:00 am any easier on us. We boarded the plane in a zoombie-like state and landed in a similiar state in Sydney at 8 am.

If you should ever like to do a study on the least productive and most inefficient places in the world, may I recommend starting at any international airport. Look up the word "customs" in the dictionary and I'm pretty sure it would say something like "long lines leading to more long lines followed by intrusive questioning by some very bored individual keen on detaining you for as long as possible in the airport." After we finally had our bags, gone through customs, and had booked a hostel for the night we made our way to the train station which rambled through Sydney and delivered us to one of the more beautiful harbors that I've had the pleasure of seeing. To my right there was the famed Sydney Opera House, a dazzling white structure resembling some kind of exotic shell. To my left was the intimidating and equally beautiful Harbor Bridge spanning the expanse of the harbor. We hopped on the waiting ferry and headed to our hostel in Manly Beach. The ferry ride meanders through the harbor past beautiful homes perched on the multiple penisulas that jutted into the ocean. Trees of dark, rich green blanketed the shores which was a pleasant surprise for me as I expected the whole of Australia to look like those ominous pictures of the Outback with red dirt and scraggly trees. We saw beautiful sailboats, other ferries and large vessels all cruising through the dark, navy blue waters.

We didn't spend long in Manly Beach that day. The sky was overcast making the city more appealing than the beach.

Sydney was a city of contradictions - modern skyscrapers towered above old neighborhoods and ornate churches. Businessmen hurried through crowds of backpackers and street performers. All of it had the feel of city who was not dependent on the tourists that lined its streets - but was happy to oblige them all the same. We walked around the Opera House, halfway across the gorgeous bridge and through the Rocks - an area of bars and resteraunts that seemed to have been left out of the modernization of downtown Sydney. Both of us were exhausted by a day of travel and made the decision to have a quick dinner in Manly and turn in early.

Apparently, turning in early is a very foreign concept in Manly. At 9:30, as Lisa and I were climbing into bed, the rest of the occupants of our hostel were just beginning to climb the walls. I mean this almost literally. Somewhere directly above us loud bursts of the most awful noise, which I guess someone somewhere once mistook for music, blasted through the windows. Our small dorm smelled like a mix of strong cheese and old gym socks - so it was either deal with the techno-disco screech from above or asphyxiate ourselves from the smell. I took a tylenol PM in hopes of drifting into a fitful sleep. No luck. Sometime in what should have been the dead of the night there was a "ruckus" upstairs. It sounded as if someone had dropped every glass bottle in a two block area onto the cement floor. After a short pause all hell broke loose. Apparently there was a full on bar fight just above us. I laid there waiting for someone to break up the fight. (I should inject here for all the mothers and grandmothers reading this that I was happily tucked away in a locked dorm with steal bars on the windows - mine and Lisa's safety was not a problem). It looked like my much needed rest was out of the question. After a couple more hours of light dozing I finally got up and walked upstairs to use the restroom. I half expected to find the living area (the site of the party the previous night) to be covered in glass and completely wrecked. It wasn't - the only reminants were the three Aussie's still drinking and talking on the couch. I shook my head. Was this Australia? All night parties and yelling matches??

Thankfully this was a poor first impression. That day we were blessed with sunshine in great quantities. Not a cloud in the deep blue sky. We wandered down to the beach after a stop at the local market and began our beach bumming. It was a great day on the beach. Lisa joined in the beach volleyball and I wondered into town in search of new flip-flops, some lunch and a cheap surfboard to rent. I was successful in all three areas.

I returned to the beach with a 7'10" board rented from a nice guy just across the street. The Aussie hospitality was beginning to show as everyone was helpful and pleasant. I hopped on the board headed for the small waves that were just off the shore. They were ankle biters at best but the draw of the ocean got to me -as it always does. I surfed for about an hour and then headed in on a nice long ride that dropped me at the edge of the shoreline. The water here was clear and chilly but it felt amazing just to be soaking up this long awaited summer sun.

I gave the board to Lisa so she could have her turn. She loves surfing and was ready for a nice long session. But true to form, Australia proved to be unpredictable. I had just settled onto my sarong and gotten out her camera to capture her tearing up those tiny waves when I noticed she was actually heading in. I was pretty confused...She wasn't the type to give up so early. As she got closer I noticed she was touching her ear tentatively and then staring at her hand. I got up to meet her and noticed the trickle of blood running down her ear. Needless to say I was a little alarmed! After over a year of surfing those famously ferocious and powerful waves of Hawaii's south shore (please note the sarcasm - Hawaii's waves, while much larger than those in Manly, are tame and generally perfect), Lisa had recieved her first surf wound. She had fallen off her board and because of the shallow waters was unable to avoid the board bearing down on her. It nailed her on that most sensitive area at the top of your ear. She got right back on the board thinking it nothing more than a good bell ringing but noticed shortly that her ear was bleeding. Not wanting to end up as some type of American appetizer for the infamous sharp-toothed and big-finned sharks in this part of the world, she headed back in. We got it cleaned up and she assured me that she was feeling at least remotely normal. It was decided that our time in Manly Beach had been eventful enough. It was time to head for the hills - literally. Our next destination was Katoomba, the quaint village at the edge of the Blue Mountains that promised to be at least slightly more serene.

Now came the next great adventure - the two hour train ride. We had been told that our transport passes would take us as far as a bus stop called Libcombe. However, when we arrived there and asked the security guards what train to take next they directed us to a train that was leaving shortly. Nothing was said of buying another ticket nor was there a place to buy one had we wanted to. The same thing happened at the next stop - which was the last stop before the longest leg of the train ride.

Now, train rides are always interesting. This was by far the furthest I had travelled by train but in my limited experience the hum of the rail and the fast or slow pace of the train gives the whole thing an air of yesteryear. There is a laid back atmosphere when you glide along with out the grunts and groans of a bus or the stop and go traffic you see elsewhere in the city. The other thing I've noticed about trains and subways is that they attract the most interesting passengers - who with nothing more to distract them from the ever-flowing scenery - always want to talk to you. Lisa and I shared a car with an older man who whistled and talked to an imaginary individual the whole time and a middle aged lady who seemed to be completely obvious to the fact that she was somewhat different than the rest of the world. She was very nice and helpful but also very random. I got the feeling social situations aren't an everyday affair for her. However, I must point out that we were dressed in somewhat wrinkled clothes, carrying large bulky bags and one of us was bleedy slightly from her ear so I doubt we appeared to be very "normal" ourselves.

Just before we got to our destination two security guards started to come through and ask everyone for their tickets. Hmmm...well, we had transport passes but I had a feeling that this was going to be an intersting interaction all the same. I was right on. The guy stopped and took our passes. He looked wearily at our backpackers and asked how long we had been in the country while explaining that our passes only took us as far as Libcombe. I put on my best southern accent and innocent face while trying to explain that we didn't understand where we could go with this pass and were soooo sorry to have made this mistake. I'm pretty sure that my innocent face turned quickly to a mask of shock when he told us that normally this kind of trangression would cost us $200. With an air of as much power as a train security guard can muster, he let us off the hook and directed us to buy another ticket as soon as we got to Katoomba. Needless to say, by the time we finally arrived at our destination we were ready for the serenity we had heard about.

That night we bought a super cheap pizza and enjoyed the local music that was bubbling out of a couple of the pubs. Our new hostel, we were thrilled to find, was a much calmer and quieter place than the previous night. The whole town had the feel of a small Colorado community in the summer. The people were nice, the weather enjoyable and the prices cheaper than Syndey.

There is more to tell of the Blue Mountains - including the great hike that led to an amazing waterfall and beautiful view of the hazy mountians - but I am holding up the day by sitting at this computer (which has already tested my patience by shutting down once) so I'm off for now.

I miss you and all and hope that the weather is as agreeable wherever you hang your hat as it is where I am - having finally it seems, caught up with summer.

Adios from the road...
Charlsea