Showing posts with label NSW tourism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NSW tourism. Show all posts

Saturday, 24 April 2010

Blissing out in the Blue Mountains


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I did a lot of my growing up in an ever-expanding Sydney. For me, the Blue Mountains (first crossed in 1813 by Blaxland, Wentworth and Lawson - geez, you never forget some of the stuff from primary school, hey?) seemed so far away back then. Now that I live in Canberra I am still afflicted by the same misconception.

The Blue Mountains are, in fact, just around the corner – an easy day ride. If you go via the highway (bleeeeagh!) you'll be there in no time. If you're on a motorbike, and if the weather's not too terrible, and if the roads haven't been cut by snow or something (which probably doesn't happen very often) I would suggest going via Oberon. It's all sealed these days!

I'd promised my friend Sheila that I would go and visit her in her new house, and then my fuel pump started playing up, and things looked iffy. And then, of course, Greg Dahlitz of Dahlitz Motorcycles, Queanbeyan, got my bike sorted for me and I could head up to the mountains after all. YAY!

It was a remarkably easy ride, although I believe some of the roads – particularly the Jenolan Caves Rd – can be a bit hairy when large numbers of boy racers get out on them. I didn't see any, so I can't say. All the riders I passed seemed to be like me - having a great day enjoying the road.

There's a fairly horrible section of road just after you cross the Abercrombie River, though. No lines marked, what looks like a chicken-wire barrier shielding you from a Big Drop, decreasing radius corners galore, and at one point, you're not even sure where the road is, because the roadside reflector posts seem to be running along the middle of the road! Weird! It's a go-slow area and a bit of a heart-rate raiser for people like me who are afraid of heights. Your mileage may vary, but I was bloody nervous!

What I can say, though, with great certainty, is this: dress for all seasons! Going up 'over the top', the temperature drops quite a bit, although there's a very long 55kmh corner near Hartley, and that seems to be the turning point. On the Taralga side of it, it's cold. On the other side, the temperature rises very quickly and noticeably.

So... I got to Sheila's lovely House of Peace in mid afternoon. I love catching up with old friends – I'd forgotten how much we used to laugh when we were at uni, but it didn't take long to remember!

The Blue Mountains region is a very popular tourist area, so Sheila is extremely lucky to have it all practically in her back yard! We went walking, and omigod, my near-dead hamstring went ballistic. There are stairs – yes, truly – stairs carved along various parts of the Blue Mountains – and tour groups from all over the world pay money to torture themselves on these stairs. I wonder how many people have heart attacks on those interminable bloody stairs! My healthy little heart was thundering, my quads were screaming and the sweat was pouring off me after a while on one of the 'easy' walks – but gee it was fun!


Those stairs are pretty, but just remember, what you climb down, you have to climb up again on the way back - eeeek!


If you have any breath left, allow it to be taken away by the views!

After the hard work on the stair-climb we went for a bit of a trek through Katoomba itself – I love that place! The Blue Mountains community is made up of quite a diverse set – quite apart from the original, long-term residents, there are lots of highly educated tree-change types, but there's also a big alternative community – serious hippies. Makes for an interesting mix. It's a bit like the weather there – real four-seasons-in-one-day stuff. In the middle of Katoomba itself you have a lovely mix of old architecture and new businesses – old-fashioned residential hotels and so on - and trendy lifestyle shops. It's lovely!

I went berserk in a hippie shop called Incantation – got some t-shirts and incense – but must go back there when I have a bit more money – and there are lots of lovely antique shops to explore as well.

We spent the evening at home, and Sheila's magnificent five-bean soup gave me a turbo-boost for the ride home the next day – eeeek! When we were at uni we used to laugh our heads off about farts – it's so good to know that some things never change! (Grown-ups R Us!)

Global weather is changing, but it was good to see that the leaves in the high country are turning, as they should. It won't be long till the Blue Mountains may be too chilly an option for a day ride, so I'm glad I went when I did. Catching up with friends (hi Sheila, hi Stu!) is a lovely reason for a ride, though, no matter what the weather, and when I go back I'll make sure I catch up with other friends who live out that way!


What a beautiful outlook, especially at this time of year as the leaves are turning.


Wednesday, 16 December 2009

The Brisbane or Bust Adventure - heading home Part 1

I mentioned my new best friends Tinana and Scrabble, didn't I? Scrabble is a scruffy and fairly brainless but totally adorable little terrier of some sort, with the cutest personality. She has two expressions - awake and asleep - and I have never known a dog to contort herself so wildly to get patted.

After lengthy debate about whether she was an 'adorable love pumpkin' or an 'adorable love parsnip' (she is shaped more like a parsnip than a pumpkin, it's true) I almost got away with smuggling her into my tank bag for the trip home. That Michelle was too feisty though. She heard me encouraging the Love Parsnip to hop into my tank bag.

'Don't do it, Scrabble,' she hissed. 'She has CATS!' Sigh...

So, Scrabbleless, and with a loaded up bike, I followed Clem for a fab ride to Mount Glorious. Yeah, tough life, but the thought of riding the motorway back through Brissie during peak hour was too horrible, so we'd planned to head out of Brisbane the scenic way. Actually, it wasn't peak hour when we left. It was closer to midday, and the clouds that hung over Brissie were black and evil-looking.

They didn't get any better. The first enormous blobs of rain splashed onto me just near Warwick, but they didn't last. Refuelling at Tenterfield, I asked the man at the servo if he knew what the weather ahead was like, and the report was all bad (and, as it turned out, very accurate!) Some ominous thundery rumbles made me put on the wet weather gear - well, the top half anyway - it was still way too warm to wear the entire sauna suit.

After the rain had been pelting down in non-stop sheets for half an hour I was actually feeling a little cool around the legs, not to mention squelchy in the toe region as my Rossi boots gave up all pretence of being waterproof.

I gave up when I could no longer see the road for the rain, and pulled over in a little place called Deepwater where, oddly enough, the water was very deep - rivers of it running down the sides of the main road. I abandoned my poor bike to rain and hail, and sheltered under an awning until the sky lightened a tiny bit. Could I make it to Glen Innes and a warm dry motel, I wondered?

I could. The rain sort of stopped - but when I got to Glen Innes there was hail piled so high by the sides of the road that it looked like a snowscape!

Press on, press on while the weather's tolerable, said the little voice in my head. You might even get as far as Armidale!

Not a hope. The sky split again just as I limped into Guyra, and I turned into the Guyra Park Motel. Lucky to get a room, I was - a road crew from just down the highway had scored some emergency accommodation to escape the wild weather. You can't lay bitumen in torrential rain, apparently.

So - even though the motel was full, the town was empty (it shuts on Monday nights) and if it hadn't been for a fellow traveller called Pete, I would've had nothing but a bag of chips for dinner. Resourceful Pete sourced some lasagne, and we chatted till quite late. He was heading home to Cairns on a KTM he'd just bought in Sydney (hope your trip's going well, Pete!)

After a late night I'd hoped to sleep till 6am, but thunder, lightning and an absolute deluge of Old Testament proportions woke me at 5 on Tuesday morning.

Uh oh.

Thursday, 8 January 2009

Elvis has left the building - and he's in Parkes, NSW!

Sometimes, do you feel as if you're on (or from) another planet? Holy crap, I do...

A few days ago I walked down the hill to my local shops. In the space of about 20 metres I witnessed a drug deal (what IS the correct procedure for that? I just kept looking straight ahead cos I was petrified!) a bunch of teenage boys looking for trouble (they were prowling around the back of the shops with a baseball bat) and a crazy lady (she was talking very loudly to herself - I looked for the cellphone headset but there wasn't one). Anyway - I was just going about my business, walking to the shops to buy a bottle of wine, and I was confronted by all this weirdness. Is it any wonder I drink?

But for weirdness and "cognitive dissonance", nothing can compare with this - the Elvis festival at Parkes, NSW.


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This morning's news had this little snippet:

400 impersonators crowd Elvis Express

One for the money: Elvis impersonators prepare to catch the Elvis Express. (ABC TV)

About 400 Elvis impersonators and fans have boarded a special train from Sydney to Parkes for the annual festival honouring 'The King'.

The passengers on the Elvis Express will be among about 8,000 visitors expected to crowd the town in the state's central west for the next five days.

Impersonators and dancers performed at Central Station before departing at 8:30am.

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Can you imagine how that feeling of being on another planet would kick in? You're minding your own business, going to work - and all of a sudden a horde of Elvises (Elvii?) appears. You'd start to wonder about your sanity, wouldn't you?

Guess where I'm off to on Sunday!!! Uh-huh-huh! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Watch this space!