The Blues are Still Blue
AUSTRALIA | Saturday, 19 July 2008 | Views [643]
Not far from Sydney are the beautiful Blue Mountains, a small range of smaller mountains, but a wonderful retreat from the hustle and bustle of the city. I do believe that no time in Sydney is complete without a trip to the Blue Mountains, so I made sure Bryan and I had a day tour booked right before we left for our trip to the Northern Territory. This began our week of 5 am wake-ups, not something I enjoyed doing, but a practice that perhaps builds a little character in the end.
We traversed the early morning buses and trains to the Menzies Hotel, where the tour was to begin. We stood in the freezing cold, awaiting our Activity Tours minibus, while a nearby group of chain smokers tested my ability to breathe in a burning tobacco barn, in the unlikely event that such an a travesty should occur. The minibus rocked up ten minutes late, an irritation considering we were twenty minutes early. Little did I know that even greater horrors awaited me inside the bus. Upon entering, I was greeted by sound so familiar yet so strange in the context – a North American accent. I introduced myself to our tour guide, hoping that my disappointment did not show over the fact that he hailed from Wyoming and not somewhere like Woolloomooloo or Wagga Wagga. The six of us on tour were quite a varied group – 2 whiney American co-eds in Sydney for an internship, a young Italian Papal Pilgrim named Febreezio, and an Englishman named Matt in Sydney for a few days on business. The two-hour ride into the Blue Mountains was a trip into the proverbial heart of darkness. Our guide (who never told us his name, but we nicknamed Adolph) never ceased to bother us with a constant Q&A battle that can best be described as “I’m right, and you’re wrong.” He would ask questions like “so do you guys know if there are any Aboriginal peoples in Australia.” Someone replied yes, which gleefully quashed with a “WRONG! None of their tribes are called aboriginal…there’s no such thing as Aboriginals…that’s just a myth other tour guides will tell you.”
By the time we reached the mountains, if I heard that man utter the words “wrong!” or “that’s just a myth other tour guides will tell you” I was going to stage a mutiny. Offensive, crude, acerbic, uncouth – just a few words to describe this man’s behavior. The worst part was that he often got his facts very wrong. The co-eds were the most offended and sassed him back. The rest of us just played along, knowing that being bratty would only bring increased harassment. It was however, poor poor Febreezio that bore the brunt of the jokes. Adolph continually referred to him as “Italy” or “Fab,” teased him because it took him longer to read the instruction page that got passed around, and to my horror said “you’ve gotta lose the backpack man, its cramping your style,” (referring to his red and yellow World Youth Day backpack, referenced in a previous post).
I could go on for hours about this horrid man, and can tell more lively tales upon my return to any who wish to hear. By the end of the day we realized he was a disgruntled ex-pat, who seemed to hate America, and the world in general (he had plenty of bad things to say about Australia). A rabid Green Party member, he used his little tour bus as his soapbox, making us all feel guilty that it (allegedly) took 10,000 liters of water to make a hamburger, and teaching us about how Kangaroos are the only carbon neutral meat in the world. The most interesting useless fact was that wombats (allegedly) excrete square poo.
In spite of this man, we had a good time when he left us on our own, both at Featherdale Wildlife Park and Scenic World. Featherdale is one of my favorite attractions, and my number one recommendation to anyone visiting Sydney. You can get really up close and personal with the animals, and hand feed kangaroos and emus. There was a particularly cute mother ‘roo with a baby in her pouch, and I got bit by an emu, which was rather thrilling. The last time I was at Featherdale, there were 3 baby emus, and they were likely the same ones that we fed this time, just grown up (I think Featherdale is a kind of rescue). There was also an absolutely ADORABLE pack of dingo pups with their mother, who stood on a rock and gathered them with her howl.
When Adolph left us at Scenic World, the Super Six all were able to let off some steam and say what we were all thinking on the way there. I was forced to overcome my fear of cable cars, by riding on two rather state of the art cars (I still would never ride in an old one, and think ski lifts are questionable). We also rode on the steepest railway in the world, which was incredibly fun, like a natural roller coaster.
Thankfully, Adolph mellowed out a tiny bit in the afternoon, and we were able to enjoy our few remaining hours. Afternoon tea was very good, and we got the standard Olympic Park tour plus a tour of the Eco-town connected with the park. I was actually really impressed with the water recycling system, and the use of solar power on all the homes, but less impressed with the million-dollar price tag the homes carried. Our tour ended with a pleasant sunset cruise back to Circular Quay. Bryan and I had hit it off with Matt, and so the three of us went out to a great dinner at Lowenbrau in the Rocks. Lowenbrau serves my favorite beer in the world (It’s a Mango-infused White Beer), and considering I’d not had any since 2006, it was a great treat.
While not my idea of the most incredible Blue Mountains Tour experience, the day will certainly be unforgettable for all involved.
