Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Sydney trip day 2: Blue Mountains
Our Thursday Sydney itinerary was similarly hectic (as the soon to b posted Day 1). We had booked a bus tour (oh my) into the Blue Mountains to savour an introduction to somewhere which demands at leasr a few weeks more attention than we gave it.

The tour included a drive through the Blue Mountains from the north west of Sydney, through Windsor, then back in to town along the Great Western Highway, taking in Govett’s Leap, Three Sisters and "Scenic World". Tacked-on the end was a walk through a wildlife park (Featherdale, which was actually quite well presented) and a ferry ride back to Sydney from Parramatta.

On seeing photographs of the Three Sisters, feelings of isolation and wilderness are conjured-up. You get the impression that a glimpse of them is only available to the most adventurous, after a fair hike, after a bone-rattling drive down a dirt track, off a series of rural roads, many kilometres from the highway.

The truth – I discovered - is quite different. The Three Sisters lies on the outskirts of a considerable town (Katoomba, population 30,000). They are flanked by gift shops, heritage centres, car parks and tea shops; suburbia! The lookout is 50 metre wide concrete protrusion of bustling hoards, daily coach trippers and mobile phone photographers.

‘The Camera Never Lies’ was an irksome ditty from the 80s, sung by UK Eurovision winners Bucks Fizz. Had they been judged on the integrity of their lyrics, they would have scored nil-points; the camera can lie every bit as well as John Howard. you never see photos of the Three Sisters that include the tacky, sprawling suburban context, nor the coach loads of visitors. In reality, Katoomba is one of Sydney’s western outreaches; albeit, 107km from the Opera House.

To be fair, the view is spectacular; and not merely because of three columns of rock which outcrop into the valley. From the lookout you do get a sense of the immensity of the Blue Mountains National Park. The forests stretch to the horizon, bigger than Belgium apparently; and certainly more interesting. It’s said there are still tribal bands of escaped convict descendants, roving the forests, unaware that New South Wales is no longer a penal colony for the British Empire.

Further around the valley from the Three Sisters, in another suburb of Katoomba, is Scenic World. Despite its name probably putting off every backpacker or traveller of hardy pretence, it is sensitively designed, hidden and perched on the edge of 250m cliff. I guess its about making this fabulous part of the Australian bush accessible to all, as it offers a number of ‘rides’ (they called them), including two to quickly speed you down the mountain and one that projects you out across the valley.

Two of the rides are relatively old. The mountain railway (steep, at 51º) was first constructed in the late 1800s to haul coal up the escarpment. The cable car was built in the 1950s. The latest addition is the cable car to nowhere, or Skyway, which plies its trade across the face of Katoomba Falls, was built in the last 5 years.

Despite all the hardware, the best way down the mountain is to walk down Furber’s steps, and through the rainforest. The steps probably have a rich history related to the coal mining in the early 20th century, but a rudimentary search reveals nothing. Regardless, there are about 800 of them down the escarpment, some carved into the sandstone and just a few inches wide, others made of steel, spanning the tricky bits.

From a variety of view points there are excellent lookouts to Katoomba Falls (in full flow after heavy rain), including access to a platform half way down. A warmer day would have warranted standing underneath the 80m water shower, but this day – decked in just shorts and light shirt, in the rain, mist and wind – I was more worried about dying of exposure.

The whole descent was outstanding, passing a number of waterfalls and often passing through and underneath ad hoc falls cascading over the cliffs, precipitated by the heavy rain.

Muddied and wet after the scramble down the hill, it’s then quite bizarre to meet Japanese tourists in suits and ties at the bottom and then dozens of other no less clean explorers. These are the folks conveyed down by the cable car and mountain train.

At the bottom is a kitschy ode to the areas past coal mining, involving a series of display boards, wax reconstructions and themed voiceover reconstructions, describing the jolly life of a 1920s coal miner.

Visitors walk across boardwalks, thus ensuring there is absolutely no contact whatsoever with mud.

It’s not that all this ruins it. Indeed the boardwalks actually protect the fragile forest from being trampled to a quagmire. It just raises questions of reward against accessibility.

I was reminded of a television programme on Yosemite (Valley?) National Park in which a wilderness ranger cliché in broad rimmed hat and National Park service uniform described the most stunning of views across the Yosemite Valley from atop a mountain. There are insufficient superlatives in the English language to describe the scene.

Every step of your long hard slog, your exhaustion, dehydration or serious physical injury would have been worth it, just to climb over the top and be greeted by that view.

The ranger smiled, knowing exactly what the viewer was thinking, only then to say “And the great thing about this view… any one can enjoy it.”

The camera panned round to show a choked up car park replete with overweight Americans, in over-sized cars, with wearing heels, wheeling pushchairs.

My point is, accessibility is important, but some things are so good, they should reveal their secrets to those who put in the effort.

Or is that I’m so selfish, I don’t want anyone else there to spoil my fun…. That said, by the time we got to the bottom, we were running out of time, our fellow tourists (none of which walked down with us) would be kept waiting. So we caught the train back up.

Again, photos will be published shortly.

---