During the week prior to my departure for far
and distant Australian shores I watched a lot of Globe Trekker on the Travel Channel. One such day I found myself glued to the TV
watching the afore-mentioned show and for a change it wasn’t because the lovely
Megan McCormack was presenting it.
Instead, it was a different American traveller showing the world what Sydney has to offer. She said that practically every budget
traveller stays in Kings Cross, lazes on Bondi
Beach and aspires to climbing the Harbour Bridge.
I felt special. Despite spending, accumulatively, around a month in Sydney I had never been to
the two spots mentioned and had never really felt like hauling my backside up
the old coat-hanger shaped bridge. This
time in Sydney
was different, in the Bondi sense, as I decided to base myself in the beachside
suburb. Mainly due to the fact that two
school friends live there but also to see what all the fuss is about.
I subsequently spent the next 3 days living a
routined life more reminiscent of a package tourist than the independent,
adventurous, charming, quick-witted and, if I may say so, extremely desirable
traveller that I have become over the years.
The 72 hours merged into a hazy memory of bacon & egg breakfasts,
afternoon excursions, drinks of an evening and British & Irish accents
around every corner. As excellent as it
is to have a cooked breakfast every morning, it just doesn’t make for a good
travel blog. It does however set you up
nicely for the afternoon adventures, the first of which being the popping of my
body boarding cherry.
Walking down Bondi road toward the beach with
a board under your arm, the sun shining and not a care in the world leaves you
with one of those permanent Cheshire cat grins that are difficult to
remove. The beach was stunning, packed
with enough beautiful people to back my ugly Australia theory nicely and the
surf was absolutely perfect. I spent
around 2 hours in the water but only managed to catch two decent waves. For me though it was more than enough. I’m not usually the type to venture into the
sea as my brain has a tendency to play the Jaws
theme tune and leave me with ever so slightly soiled underwear. So to be body boarding at Bondi was a
beautiful moment.
The second day’s afternoon adventure saw me
visiting some old haunts in the south of the city. I drove down to Kurnell on Botany
Bay with my friend Andy (the Tim-Tam volunteer) and paid a visit
to some folks who I stayed with the last time I was on this side of the planet.
It turned out to be an excellent idea as after a long meander along the rocky
shores of Botany Bay national park, we were fed an excellent roast dinner and
plied with boutique beers from Byron
Bay. We were both left with fixed grins after
devouring our first roast dinner in months.
Another beautiful moment.
On Christmas day, after a pig and chicken
based breakfast, I walked with Andy down to the rocks at Bondi, passing
hundreds of Irish people outside the catholic church clad in Gaelic football
shirts, and spent some of the morning perched upon a rock watching the crowds
go by. This was followed by an
ambitiously priced Christmas lunch at a hotel by the beach and a long afternoon
of killing brain cells with the assistance of the Hunter Valleys
“finest” red wine. The party animal in
me died around 5pm and I was ready for bed by 7pm.
So despite having an excellent three days in Sydney, my cholesterol
level and liver are happy setting off from the city today. Due to time being a commodity that I don’t
have much of at the moment, I set off from Bondi, accompanied by Andy, with the
target of being in Melbourne
in two days time. After another brief
and unintended tour of the city centre we’re on the highway heading west
towards the Blue Mountains. We’re soon ascending into the green and
pleasant little towns to the west of the city.
The van struggles on some of the climbs and even my verbal encouragement
can’t get more power from third gear. We
eventually reach Katoomba and head straight for Echo Point in order to get the
classic holiday snap of the 3 sisters rock formation. The viewing point is heaving with
camera-clutching tourists, I shouldn’t really complain as I’m one of them but
it’s a natural reaction to think “bloody tourists…”
After a few happy snaps, including one of
Andy almost playing full-on tonsil tennis with an Aboriginal guy who was
busking with his didge, we continue westwards and get to Bathurst around an hour later. I make a sharp turn off the highway and after
numerous roundabouts and several moments of self-doubt in the navigation
department we reach the Mt Panorama racetrack.
Famous for the V8 supercar races which take place here, the track is,
for most of the year, a public road with a sedate 60km/h speed limit. I take a few photos of the van at the start
line before jumping into the driver’s seat and making my assault on the
track. I’d love to say that the speed
limit went out the window and that a campervan has never looked so at home on a
racetrack but I can’t. My verbal
encouragement of third gear turns to abuse as the van huffs and puffs around
the uphill first half of the course. As we start to downhill section the
corners become much tighter and I’m left with my foot permanently on the
break. By the time we get to the home
straight, where illegal speeding becomes far more likely, there are three
law-abiding cars plodding sluggishly in front of the van. We leave the track without having broken the
law, I feel slightly disappointed.
The rest of the afternoon is spent abiding by
the speed limits and making our way southward.
We reach the town of Young
by early evening and check into a campsite.
I try and make some conversation with the woman behind the counter and
her shifty looking man-friend but to no avail.
They seem as if they want to talk but haven’t for so long that it’s a
difficult process. I decide to spare
them the pain and leave before someone hurts themselves. I settle in for the night with some beer and
music and reflect over 3 festively hazy days in Bondi. I wonder if New Year in Melbourne will be similar? I could do with
some more bacon & eggs…
