Australia 1997

Saturday 8 November — The Adventure Starts

Wearing shorts and a light jacket, I left the house at about quarter past three under grey skies and scurried through light rain down to Tollcross Road. A 64 came along and was allowed to pass, shortly afterwards a 43 arrived and I took that as it goes directly to the bus station. At Parkhead Cross, we turned down Duke St, picked up passengers at the Forge and then, at the lights before the railway bridge, the driver announced that he had taken the wrong route and continued on the Parkhead Bypass back to the Gallowgate. All of which was irrelevant, we reached the bus station at ten to four and I caught the Fairline Airport Express minibus at four o’clock (CityLink goes at ten past) which proceeded without incident to the airport.

With two hours to spare before my flight time, I was pleased when the check-in desk accepted my pack, booking it through to Sydney, leaving me lightly loaded for a quick tour of the shops to buy a book (John Muir’s “Wilderness Walks”) and some film before retiring to the Tap and Spile for a couple of pints of good ale (Everard’s Beacon and Marston’s Pedigree), soon to be few and far between. During the second pint, I decided I could afford to buy some more Australian dollars from cash in hand and did so on my way to board the plane.

The fully-loaded London flight left the gate at 1827, 12 minutes late owing to the incoming flight having been 25 minutes late. My window seat allowed me a last glimpse of the lights of Renfrewshire before we climbed into the cloud. A meal consisting mostly of mince and asparagus was served, reasonable for airline food. We would have landed on time at Heathrow had we not been stacked for five minutes on the way in. While waiting to disembark, I spotted my pack being transferred to a trolley, hopefully on it’s way to Terminal 4.

My own transfer to Terminal 4 went smoothly, a bit of a walk, a seven minute bus trip and another shorter walk left me with an hour and a half before my next flight, time to buy some duty free tobacco and drink another pint in Wetherspoon’s, not cheap at £2.10 for London Pride.

I was one of the last to board the plane; why stand in a queue when you can sit and watch others do so? I had an aisle seat with no chance to watch city lights or starry skies so watched a bit of the early programming, BBC World News which seemed to be Friday’s and a sports report featuring last Saturday’s football results. For dinner, I had some sort of spicy chicken. Through the next few hours, I read my book and ignored a couple of unspectacular films.

Sunday 9 November

The cabin crew were not keen on people opening the blinds in the morning so we had the strange experience of arriving in Bangkok in mid-afternoon in a darkened plane. By the time the stewardess had finished listing all the restrictions applicable to transit passengers within the airport, I had decided just to remain on board for the hour and a half and get in the way of the cleaners.

The third leg of the journey continued on time. I decided against the gum leaf smoked chicken and had beef and ginger and local vegetables for dinner. Some further mundane films were shown and a continental breakfast served before we arrived at Sydney about 1900 GMT which, of course, was…

Monday 10 November — First Day in Sydney

...about 0600 when we touched down at Sydney. The formalities were slight and I was footloose and fancy free within half an hour of leaving the plane. I organised my cash, bought a phone card and phoned Daddy to let him know I had arrived safely. After about an hour, I took the bus into town, getting off at Central Station at ten past eight, and began to wonder what to do to kill time until I could reasonably present myself at my accommodation. The answer was to meander through Darling Harbour and past the fish market at Blackwattle Bay to arrive at Glebe Point Youth Hostel about ten o’clock. To my relief, I was expected and the bed was already available so I was able to dump most of my gear and head back into town.

I wandered along George Street looking for a suitable sun hat (without success) and cheap (since I’m bound to lose or break them) sunglasses. Ten minutes after paying $9.95 for a pair, I found another shop with a larger selection all at $5. Oh, well, that’s life. I drifted back to Central station and examined timetables for getting to the ZigZag railway (should be no problem) and Thirlmere (rather more of a problem). The station bar has had limited refurbishment but still looks much the same as ten years ago except for the disappearance of the large model of a steam engine which used to occupy much of the floor space in front of the bar.

When I emerged at the back of five, the sun had gone and I suspected that it might rain so I walked swiftly back to the hostel. I went up onto the (covered) roof to write up this saga and watched the weather deteriorate. After a bit, there were sparse large raindrops, then lightning extending round most of the horizon. Each flash was not much in itself but the frequency made the whole show quite impressive, enough to get a mention on the weather report. Finally there was torrential rain and I got rather damp in the five yards between cover and the stairs.

Tuesday 11 November — Sydney

I managed to stay in bed until half past eight then set off for the Maritime Museum, having milk and apples for breakfast as I walked. The museum was quite interesting and managed to hold my attention for about three hours. The cafeteria was closed for refurbishment to I repaired to the South Steyne for a light lunch.

This is a former Sydney Harbour ferry built by Henry Robb in Leith with a 3200hp steam engine from Harland and Wolff. It sailed out under it’s own steam in 64 days in 1938 and served on the Manly run for 38 years. Recently it was used as the headquarters and information centre for the Sydney 2000 Olympic Project and is now a floating restaurant beside the Pyrmont Bridge (where the James Craig was ten years ago).

After lunch I wandered round by Dawes Point and under the Harbour Bridge to Circular Quay. I browsed in the small souvenir shops and found myself considering the purchase of a hat with corks dangling. Obviously, I was already suffering from the effects of the sun so rapidly bought a less ridiculous hat, not quite what I wanted but the nearest I could find.

Thus protected, I walked up Pitt Street and went into the Criterion Hotel to watch the news and drink a small number of beers. After that, more walking through Hyde Park and the Botanic Gardens and round by the Opera House back to Circular Quay where I had donner kebab for tea before heading back towards the hostel via the Pyrmont Bridge. By the time I reached the hostel, I was quite weary and went straight to bed.

Wednesday 12 November — Sydney

I was well awake and got up about seven. Despite taking my time with my ablutions, I was on the road before eight. Today I walked right up Glebe Point Road, with more milk and apples for breakfast, then Parramatta Road and so to Central Station where I bought a Sydney Morning Herald as I had finally given up on the crossword in last Saturday’s (Glasgow) Herald. Having made my way through the town, I sat awhile in the Botanic Gardens reading the paper and quickly discarded the business and financial sections. It (SMH) seems a bit down-market compared to the Glasgow version but is considerably better than a tabloid in its news coverage.

Having read two thirds of the paper and glanced at the rest, I headed towards the Harbour Bridge, stopping on the way at the Sydney Information Centre between Circular Quay and The Rocks to enquire about transport to the railway museum at Thirlmere but “it’s out of our area”. They thought it might be covered by Wollongong and gave me a freephone number for there but they in their turn also declared “it’s out of our area” and gave me the museum phone number. That got no answer when I tried it.

Anyway, on up to the Bridge and up the pylon. They have introduced a $2 admission charge since my last visit but also enhanced the visitor displays. At the top, I took much the same photos as last time; it will be interesting to compare the city skyline ten years apart. Back down, I dropped into a couple of pubs in The Rocks for refreshment and bought fish and chips at Circular Quay before heading up through the town and called Thirlmere again. This time, I got an answer and, yes, the steam train runs every Sunday but the nearest public transport at weekends is the train at Tahmoor, 3km away which will not be a problem to a fit young man like myself. So I will stay in Sydney a few days longer than I had originally planned.

The next stop was Sydney Central Youth Hostel, just across the road from Central Station, where I arranged a bed for the weekend and bought a book of twenty bed-night vouchers for $260 which represents some saving on most mainland hostels (but little in Tasmania). A light rain was falling when I emerged from the hostel so I scampered from veranda to veranda along the road for a bit before ducking into the Ancient Briton for a beer. When I came out, the rain was off and I completed my journey to the hostel without further temptation.

Thursday 13 November — Sydney

When I emerged in the morning, the ground was significantly damp. Obviously the rain had returned in the night. Milk but no apples for breakfast this morning as I made my way into town via Darling Harbour and the Botanic Gardens to catch the MV Narrabeen at eleven o’clock to Manly. Lunch was sausage and onions in the Steyne Hotel before I went for a wander along the promenade on the ocean side (as opposed to the Sydney Harbour side) By the time I reached Shelly Beach, I had decided that I was bored and cut up a path through the bush to a road further up the hill, but alas it afforded no views as I meandered back down to the shore near the wharf.

I made the return journey to Sydney on the JetCat Sir David Martin for a change. It took 14 minutes against 32 minutes on the conventional vessel (so why did it cost extra?).

As seems to be routine now, my aimless meandering through the city brought me back to Central Station where I decided to catch the new Sydney Light Rail (tram to you and me) to its terminus near Wentworth Park, about half way to the hostel though by a circuitous route. A very smooth ride but slow, crawling through the city streets and round very tight bends (as might be expected) but even on dedicated track (former railway track around the docks), the stops were so close together that I doubt if we exceeded twenty miles per hour for more than twenty seconds in the twenty minute journey.

I covered the remaining distance to the hostel without difficulty and ascended to the roof to write this. The cicada chorus started just after the fireworks at Darling Harbour.

Friday 14 November — Sydney

One of the problems with youth hostels is the folk with whom you end up sharing a room. Last night it was three young Welshmen who came back at 0345 and were not quiet. The previous night, there were two young Englishmen who, while not offensive, were extremely boring. Och well, I got my own back on the Welshmen by getting up at 0715 and making a fair bit of noise myself.

I then tried the e-mail machine, $2 for ten minutes, not recommended by the hostel staff, but with some difficulty, I think it worked. (Oh no it didn’t!) It is not easy typing on a two-thirds sized keyboard covered with a plastic membrane which tended to drag down adjacent keys and all the while a prominent timer is counting down at the top of the screen.

Time to change hostels. I lugged my bag up Glebe Point Road and round to Sydney Central YH where I left it in a locker and had breakfast in the cafeteria, orange juice, fruit salad, Weetbix and tea for $4. I then went looking for some maps and other things. I started with outdoor shops but they do not carry much in the way of maps so I went to a specialist map shop Map World in Pitt Street for the maps and a compass and forgot the other things. By then it was late enough to book into the hostel so I returned there to attend to the formalities before setting off for more shopping (and a few beers).

Being in need of more film, I went into a camera shop and made enquiries. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Agfachrome is now generally available, at least in major centres, so I bought six rolls to be going on with (and got 10% discount for quantity!). Processing in most places should take 3-5 days. Five minutes later, I came across an Agfa Photolab where they said they did E6 processing in two hours! and that similar facilities exist in most cities. I didn’t dare ask the price but it will be convenient.

I bought another pair of shorts, a size smaller than usual (and they do fit), then walked down to Circular Quay for another fish supper. This was no better than two days ago - standards have definitely slipped since last I was here. I don’t know if it’s the frying in vegetable oil or just a bad batter recipe but I think I’ll try something else tomorrow.

Back to the hostel to discover that I am sharing with two loud-mouthed Englishmen who sound as if they as planning a late return.

Saturday 15 November — Sydney

But it could have been worse. I was awakened at some ungodly hour but they went to bed quite quietly so no harm done, except that I didn’t wake till eight. Breakfast in the cafeteria again, scrambled eggs this time with the orange juice, fruit salad and tea. Then, there being no great queue at reception, I enquired about and made a reservation for three nights from Monday at Katoomba.

It was time to plan for the morrow so I went across to Central Station to find out about trains to Tahmoor (for Thirlmere). Tahmoor is beyond the urban electrification area so I first went to the CountryLink information desk in the main station entry, but they told me that services as far as Goulburn are provided by CityLine and sent me to a small office in the corner of the concourse. The charming lady told me that there were trains at 0659 and 0859. I muttered that the first was too early and the second too late and she said she would do what she could to lay on another at 0759 but I had better turn up for the 0659 just in case she couldn’t manage it. She gave me timetables for the Goulburn line and the current weekday Blue Mountain service - track renewal works have meant some amendments to the usual service.

Mortuary Station (1869)

From the station, I meandered inland a bit through Redfern looking for a good spot to photograph passing trains but a combination of lineside fencing, vegetation and a profusion of overhead wire supports meant that I found nothing suitable so headed back downtown.

As I went, I passed a cash machine in the wall of a branch of St. George Bank, displaying a Cirrus symbol. Now, my link card has no Cirrus symbol but many years ago, before Cirrus was invented, Girobank said that their link cards could be used in Australia (amongst other countries but not New Zealand) so I stuck it in the slot and, would you believe it, it gave me money. This could be convenient. I leapt into the nearest pub to celebrate.

When I reached Circular Quay, I found Cunard’s Royal Viking Sun at the Passenger Terminal but there was no excitement there, so I had a vegetable pitta for tea before wandering back up through the town and back to bed.

Sunday 16 November — Thirlmere Railway Museum

In the morning, I was awake and waiting for six o’clock but dozed off and it was ten past when I got up, sorted myself out (quietly) and headed for the station where I had time to buy a small skimmed milk for breakfast before looking for my train. There was not enough time to work out any interesting route variations so I went with the simple schedule, a suburban service to Campbelltown where there was a five minute wait for the Moss Vale train which dropped me at Tahmoor just before half past eight on a lovely morning. By the time I’d sun-blocked myself and got the pipe going, it was worth hanging around a little longer to watch the northbound service from Moss Vale and a Canberra bound train pass through. Then it was off up the road to Thirlmere, about forty minutes walk, taking advantage of shady trees where I could.

The Railway Museum is well sign posted (helped by the tracks crossing the road) so I had no problem finding it. An interesting museum (or possibly odd), it seemed more like a preservation society overwhelmed with material. Most of the rolling stock is stored along five tracks in a large shed, a mixture of engines, carriages and goods wagons with no apparent organisation. Very few vehicles are "displayed" and those that were were without interpretation (i.e. the mail van (TPO) was bare, with no attempt to recreate it’s use). The wonderful loco 3642 which assisted 3801 as far as Broken Hill in 1988 was lost in the general crowd.

I was surprised to find only one Glasgow locomotive, a small Dubs (who were described in the artefacts shed as Dubs of England!).

I took the 15 minute steam train trip to Buxton where the local community were having a gala day with craft stalls, home baked cakes, side-shows etc. but I was more interested in getting photos of the engine (2705) running round.

When I left the museum site, I took a couple of photos of the steam train on its last run of the day then checked out the local pub before walking back to Tahmoor.

The train to Campbelltown was on time but the connection started from there (rather than Macarthur as shown in the timetable) and was seven minutes late departing while the driver attended to a fault “caused by vandalism”. However, we were just three minutes late at Sydney Central.

An uneventful evening was spent in the cafeteria eating avocado with shrimp and crab meat (which turned out to be crab sticks) followed by spaghetti bolognese, all washed down with a small beer.

Monday 17 November — Sydney to ...

Seven o’clock on a Monday morning in Sydney is eight o’clock on Sunday evening in Glasgow so I phoned home to be told that the living room had been redecorated and that Paul had gone back to Kuwait. I digested that with my breakfast in the cafeteria before packing and checking out.

Over the weekend I had noticed that Saturday’s cash machine withdrawal slip didn’t have my account number so I went in to the nearest branch of St. George Bank to enquire if they could check that the transaction had been accepted, to be told that there was no way it could be done. I would have to phone my bank in the UK. That sounded a bit excessive so I decided just to try another machine and see if it swallowed the card (which it didn’t).

I bought a Sydney Morning Herald and sat for an hour reading it in the park in front of Central Station before entering the station to buy a ticket to Katoomba in the Blue Mountains. The train was a four car interurban electric set with double decker coaches so I took a seat on the top deck on the side which would afford the best views as we climbed the escarpment and settled back to enjoy a very pleasant two-hour journey up into the hills.