Sydney and the Blue Mountains

As I write this I'm cosied up in the Blue Mountains YHA hostel in Katoomba. I've spend today on a tour (the first of many, no doubt) through the Blue Mountains National park, to Wentworth Falls, down the Furber steps, and then back up the world's steepest funicular (funny-colour!) railway. It's been up and down, down and up all day -- and given the rain, I've been particularly grateful for my new hiking boots (they're waterproof!). Though they don't look so new anymore, covered in mud as they are.

Up until today I was still bumming around Sydney. I was determined not to worry about what I'd do until I got here and then found myself overwhelmed by choices of things to do and ways to do them. Finally I just had to bite the bullet, and so started off small with this trip to the Blue Mountains. I'm back to Sydney tomorrow, just for the night, before flying out bright and surly Friday morning for Hobart. And once there, I'll figure out how to get to Devonport on the other side of the island so I can take the ferry back to Melbourne. Just because I want to take the boat.

Back in Sydney, I met another lone traveller, Danielle, who happened to be in my dorm, so we wandered around for a couple of days, keeping each other company to the Sydney Aquarium (the dugongs were disappointing, the platypus absurdly cute), and just wandering around the city. After doing so much of that alone, it was nice to have someone to talk with for a little.

The Blue Mountains get their name from the blue haze that hovers over them on sunny days as the eucalyptus oils that the tress let off react with the sunlight. Despite the rain, it was rather lovely, and Katoomba is a cute little town. I met up with two English guys on the tour who were also staying the night, so instead of eating alone, we all went down the pub (in true English style). The following day was sunny and bright, and having a day to wander around, I explored the High Street, which was pretty much that and not much else, watched the parrots in the trees for a while (I'm still not used to flocks of wild parrots flying around), then walked the Prince Henry Cliff Top trail, and actually got to see the Three Sisters, not just their shadowy outlines through the clouds and fog. I made it back to meet my bus back to Sydney just before the rain came back in, and back to Sydney to pack for Tassie tomorrow.

Blue Mountains

Sometime yesterday afternoon

Well, after a long--but surprisingly not too painful--flight, I arrived in Sydney Wednesday morning. I even made it through quarantine, customs, and immigration with very little hassle. Luckily, Jen was standing outside her apartment to meet me and my backpack, though she soon abandoned me to head back to work. I didn't mind: I had two things on my mind, a shower and a bed. Getting both those things (and in that order), I managed to sleep away most of the day, and most of the next night, too. So while I left Toronto on Monday, it took me more or less until Thursday to actually "arrive". I spent all day yesterday wandering around Sydney, browsing down George St., having lunch in Hyde Park. Spent the rainy afternoon in the Australian Museum, learning all about the various highly venomous animals that make their home on this continent. I plan to give them a wide berth!
Today I'm also wandering around Sydney (Jen doesn't have a spare key for her apartment), so I walked around the Opera House, through the Botanical Gardens, and the National Gallery (conveniently free in the rain!). I'll soon be wandering down Oxford St, which, like its namesake, is full of shops. I'm considering a meat pie for lunch. Or a sausage roll.

Iceland and the first Day of Summer

Arriving at the airport, I met—and met up with—Giselle, my travel buddy. Checking in, I've never had such a friendly airline employee: she was telling us all about Iceland, and her sister who lives out in Nova Scotia (I forget the relevance, or how that came up). Giselle changed her seat so we could sit together, and we lucked out having an empty seat between us, so we could spread out a little.
The flight from Toronto to Reykjavik is only 5 hours, which is almost civilized, but at the same time it means that the flight isn't quite long enough to get any sleep, especially as Giselle and I talked more than half the flight. Arriving in Reykjavik at the ungodly hour of 6.15 am, we stumbled through security a second time, immigration, and luggage claim, with a brief stop in duty free to pick up host gifts for Dan -- I learned that from Martha Stewart, though I don't know if she would have approved of a bottle of vodka.
Dan met us at the bus station, where Giselle and I gave into the temptation of greasy breakfast (you have to pay for your meal on Iceland air, the only down side), though I ordered Giselle bacon that she didn't want. We stumbled to Dan's, but had to sneak in so that his crazy landlady, Helga, wouldn't notice us. Dan even coached us on our cover story: we were just visiting for the day, but were sleeping at his friend Claire's.
We then went for a walk into Reykjavik proper, and Dan showed us around a little. After giving us a tour of the city (it isn't that big, as the whole population of Iceland is about 300,000), we sat for a while in one of the many little coffee shops, called (I think) "Tiú droppa" ("Ten drops" or something similar). A couple of Dan's friends were there studying, so we chatted with them for a while. In fact, each time we walked into a coffee shop, Dan knew at least two people. After a while, it seemed like he knew everyone in town.

Giselle and I had originally planned to push through without a nap in order to get over the jet lag, but by mid-afternoon decided we wouldn't make it, so we snuck back into Dan's and grabbed a quick nap. Even just being horizontal for half an hour was sheer bliss. After our nap, Dan actually introduced us to Claire, at whose apartment we were supposedly staying, and we went for yet another coffee. (We drank lots of coffee).
Friday was really quite cold, though the sun made up for it; Dan and I went swimming in the morning, at one of the many, many natrually heated (and sulfurous-smelling) outdoor pools. The water was pleasant, but getting out was not! Later on, and in between more bouts of coffee drinking, we wandered around Reykjavik some more, and saw the Viking ship sculpture (above).
Saturday, my last in Iceland, we got up bright and surly and went off to our car rental so we could do the Golden Circle, a trio of Icelandic sights including Thingvellir, Geysir, and Gullfoss. I got to drive since Giselle doesn't and Dan's licence had expired the week before. Luckily they drive on the right, so it wasn't too nervewracking, though the roundabouts were a little exciting! Iceland is absolutely beautiful, an amazingly harsh landscape that is breathtaking. I can't wait to go back.