6 Feet of Fun

Kel and I decided, since our Bali holiday was cancelled, to hike the 6 Foot Track. It's a three day, 45k walk that runs from Katoomba to Jenolan Caves (or vice versa, which is what we did). With a wretched hangover I packed my bags on Sunday and we got a lift to the caves, where we stayed overnight before starting the hike. A few beers and a huge steak sorted the hangover out a degree; we divvied out food up and packed bags and were ready to go bright and early (although not at the crack of dawn as we had boasted to the reception girl!).

The walk started off with a challenge - a fairly steep incline that took us about an hour to conquer. An hour, and several stops! We got to the Jenolan Caves Cottages (which would have made a good starting point for an easier walk) and from there it was smooth going. Wide path (6 foot in fact, ha ha), rolling hills all around and relatively easy walking - mainly flat with a little downhill. We paused for lunch (mmmm tuna wraps!) at Black Range camping ground and enjoyed the surprising Autumn sun.







The walk after lunch was tops - again, very easy going and it was through lots of gum forest. We covered a lot of ground as we were hoping to make it as far as possible (having heard the last day was going to be a nightmare). The map we had was poor - we were heading for the rain gauge but we missed it and ended up walking about 2k further downhill before finding a campsite. We settled in for the night - I was excited to put up my new tent for the first time (not without a few confusions, mind!) and relaxed over a campfire, camp food and camp whiskey!

I had panicked that I'd be freezing - the Blue Mountains in winter had me terrified, so I'd overcompensated and taken a thermarest as well as a -10 sleeping bag. As a result I was totally overheated...but at least not cold. I always sleep poorly while camping (and generally, actually) but it was very exciting in my one-man home and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The next morning we headed off, stiffly and steeply, downhill to find the elusive rain gauge. We had to cross a few creeks (Kel did this far more elegantly than I; my shoes and socks were wet the first one we hit!), and passed through private land that had several lovely camp sites. We continued on to find Allum Creek camping ground, which meant we'd walked much further than we'd though which was welcome news. We got water from the creek there (the ranger had said it was drinkable...but to be honest we were keen for morning coffee so it wouldn't have mattered too much!). After that we continued the day's hike - slightly up hill but again flattening out to a comfortable walk down to Cox's River camping ground.









We lunched at Cox's River before heading on - again under the theory of covering as much ground before the last Death Day. Just after Cox's River is a suspension bridge, built to be used when the river below is flooded and too high to cross. Kel was keen as mustard to try this; I am scared of heights but convinced myself it'd be a great opportunity to try and conquer said fear. Oh stupid, stupid girl. The bridge was made of chicken wire (well, admittedly, more stable...but only just) and was very narrow. I'd only gone a few steps (although Kel says it was halfway) and I got bloody caught. The chicken wire had snagged the tent on the back of my pack, and there was no moving. I completely freaked out. There was lots of loud, panicked, unlady-like cussing, and more than a few tears. Eventually I was able to unhook myself (I couldn't look at it to work out what to do - too scared!) and keep going. After that, though, I came out of the sheltered part and the wind hit and it was all I could do to look ahead, hang on tight to the wire and keep moving. I finally made it to safe solid ground and quite literally sobbed like a schoolgirl! I didn't see Kel crossing but she said she found it hard also...and had to pick up the jacket I dropped half way across!



The rest of that day was a delight in comparison to Bridge From Hell. A gradual include out of Cox's River Valley, and long views of the mountains ahead all the way along. We passed a lot of private property, and had to climb over lots of stiles as we went, which was murder with a pack on. The Megalong Valley stretched out ahead and we finally made it - very tired at this stage - to the cemetary. From there we took a detour to the Old Ford campsite (home of the world's grossest unisex loo. The cleanest thing in there was the loo brush!) where we pitched up for the night.

Again, this was lovely - the camp fire was reluctant to light, but we managed to relax with an Indian-esque stew (sounds scary but was tops!), more whiskey and some firecrackers that went completely askew and chased us when lit! Kel also invented the best camping tiramisu for dessert - a chocoalte muffin bar, smothered with coffee and milk from a tube, drowned in warm custard and sprinkled in crunchy brown sugar!! Too too unhealthy, but apparently sugar is important to keep one warm at night, and who am I to argue with such camping law?!

The final morning was a bit tough. Kel was sore, and we had no water. Luckily, the nice young Canadian tourists camping nearby helped us out waterwise and Kel managed to talk her body into action, and we headed off anticpating a challenging walk.

The maps indicated that the final leg would be a very steep uphill climb, and fellow walkers (from the opposite direction) had been very pessimistic about what lay ahead for us. As it happened, the incline was initially gradual, and we covered a lot of it just in walking up to Nellie's Glen. Shortly after this, the steps started - we'd agreed to have lunch at the base of them to build up energy and then take it slowly up. Which we did, quite successfully! They were difficult, but not nearly as horrendous as anticipated. We climbed through the green rainforest environment slowly - it was wet and slippery, with lots of lush waterfalls and dark green leaves. The blue sky peeped out the top, getting ever closer as we huffed and puffed our way to the top.



We finally reached Explorer's Tree - all up it had taken us three hours from leaving camp. We then started to head to Katoomba - which was nothing like the 1k walk as we'd been informed. A taxi passed us, and we must have looked so desperate he radioed back and another one came and picked us up. We went straight to the pub for a few delicious coldies and talked ourselves up before heading back on the train to Sydney.

Kel is going to be writing our adventures up in Outdoor Magazine. Hopefully all bridge related tantrums will be omitted!

The Coast Walk

This Anzac day, Mel, her mate Jo, her cousin Jo and I packed our hiking gear and headed to do the Coast Walk. It runs from Otley to Bundeena (or the other way) through the Royal National Park following the spectacular coast line. We caught the train to Otley, chatted with some diggers on the way (one mocked our overpacking for one night...thinking about it now it must seem absurd, when you compare what they must have carried for wartime survival), and finally alighted ready to get walkin'. The hill out of the station was bloody awful, and it started spitting when we got to the top of it, but after wet weather gear and the official start of the walk were found, we were on our way!

The Coast Walk is 23 odd kilometres, usually done over two days. The first day we were walking 9k to the camping ground at North Era beach. We got off to a good start - the sun was shining, the leaves were glistening on the bush floor from the recent rain and every few metres you'd catch a sparkling glimpse of the spectacular pacific ocean through the trees. We stopped for lunch at a rocky outlook that had a view back down the coast towards the Gong. It was very blustery but gorgeous. A sea eagle flew overhead while we were eating - it was huge, even at a distance.





After lunch the walking conditions deteriorated significantly. We headed into much more rainforesty type bush, and due to the recent rain Sydney has had, the track was completely muddy. Like, up to ankle in mud in some places and of course very slippery. It made the next few hours fairly hard going - trying to concentrate on balance with huge packs and side step trees and fronds at the same time while trying our best not to fall over. A pity really because it was lovely lush scenery that was kinda wasted on me! We finally got out into the open - flat scrubby land with small grasses and shrubs in the foreground, but with the hills and the ocean all around. My absolute favourite type of scenery. At this point, the path changed almost to a trench, and it too was very muddy and slippery - there was evidence that other walkers had gone on slippery slides before us! During this section of the walk we heard an 'uh oh' from Mel - one of the soles of her hiking boots had started detaching. The uh-oh turning a little more serious when the whole thing decided to fall off. About fifteen minutes of very slippery and difficult walking later (for sole-less Mel at least!) the other bloody sole decided to make a break for it as well, leaving Mel with no grip and not much chance of walking in the awful muddy conditions! I must say she took it like a total champ, lots of giggles and not a second of crankiness! Of all the things to happen...one could never predict the soles would decide to go AWOL!



Luckily we weren't too far from North Era so we struggled on and made it to the beach to camp for the night. The beach was gorgeous - quite blustery but brilliant blue water and clean sands, amazing rock formations and hardly anyone around. There was also a midden site used by the Dharawal Aboriginal people, fenced off for protection but still quite visible. The campsite was spacious and although quite marshy we managed to find a great sheltered sport for our camp. Once we got there we pitched tents and set up, and when taking off our shoes I found that - gulp - I had my first leech! Gross! I've been terrified of them for years, but by some miracle never gotten one before. Luckily it had detached itself (obviously had its fill on my delicious blood) so I didn't have to do that; but it was nestled quite happily in my gaiter (you can sort of see it in the picture below, towards the shoe-end of the gaiter). I am afraid to say that I didn't let it live happily ever after, so after that was taken care of I strapped the leg up and we got on with the evening.



We took it easy with some relaxing ports, a delicious beef stew made by Mel and lumberjack sans custard (the trangia tasted too metallic!) for dessert. One never gets a good night sleep camping but I was certainly warm and relaxed when we retired (at really early o'clock, ah camping!).

We didn't rush off the next morning - we would have had to if we were planning on finishing the walk as there was about another 7 hours to walk to Bundeena. But luckily for soleless Mel there was a beach that has road access about a 40 minute walk from North Era. So we set off in idyllic weather - the sun was shining, a light wind blowing and the scenery was absolutely wonderful. The walk that morning was great - an easy coast side track, dry enough for comfort, and lush green hills and sparkling blue water as far as the eye could see. Looking ahead we could see several little beach inlets, golden sand and black rocks, rising up into rich green forest. With the sun shining down I felt a million miles away from anywhere and I couldn't have been more relaxed. We got to Garie Beach in good time and relaxed in the sun until Mel's heroic brother came to rescue us!



Despite The Shoe Incident and The Gross Leech Attack it was a lovely getaway. Even though cut short I felt like we'd been away for ages, and it was just lovely to see the amazing Aussie coast line, which I always forget is so close to home. And the best thing about not finishing is we have a great excuse to get back out and do that final leg! With soles, this time, I think.

Tahmoor bargain shopping

During my lunch break while on the road the other day I stopped into a junk shop in Tahmoor (a township in the Wollondilly shire - it's known as the most financially disadvantaged area in the 'Dilly and it has a myriad of social problems as well). It was quite possibly the best second hand shop I've ever been into. There were loads of the things I like to look at (kitchen stuff and homewares), not too much stuff that scares me (endless racks of scary 90s denim) and a few new odds and ends mixed in. And cheap. Oh heavens, so cheap. I found the most adorable kitchen set (which I really don't need as my mother gave me an awesome set of saucepans for my recent birthday). A kettle, a milk warmer, and two casserole type pans...for the grand total of $12! Hurrah! So I am going to turf my new shiny silver kettle - by turf I mean stash in cupboard - and embrace my new Tahmoor set.



It's Anzac day tomorrow, and I am off camping with Mel, her friend Jo and her cousin, also Jo. We're doing the coastal walk which runs along the coast (obviously) of the Royal National Park, south of Sydney. I can't wait - have wanted to do this walk for years and I haven't been hiking since we did Tassie in February. I am currently packing, charing my camera battery, baking lumberjack (for our dessert with warmed custard; I am on dessert duty) and packing bags of lollies and hot drinks (also my job!). It's only an overnight hike so I suspect it'll be fairly luxurious food and drink wise...we are planning on hot port and hot whisky to drink as well. Hurrah for winter camping!

Out of office politics

On Sunday I made my way to the organic markets at Reverse Garbage in Da Ville. As I got there, I ran into my new boss (yeah, decided to take that job). We conversed briefly - nice pleasant small talk - and she mentioned something about not having done her hair.

I said, 'Ah, don't worry, I didn't shower today'.

'I didn't shower today'. Great. Now new boss knows that I have a) personal hygiene issues and b) a huge mouth.

Marrickvillains

Friday night just gone was the inaugral Marrickvillain evening. For some time, Mel's sister Shelley has been talking about getting a gang of us locals together and making the most of our suburb (as opposed to going to neighbouring Newtown, which admittedly has a much better range of places to go however isn't nearly so handy. Or so Marrickville.). So, a group email later, and a bunch of us met at the local for pre dinner beers. The REM bar is not the most civilised venue in the world. When we first arrived, Mel was seated next to a rather drunk man having a bit of a 6.30pm nap. Bless. No matter how many times that pub is done up, the natural decor provided by Marrickville locals will always take over!

The main feature of the night was always going to be the Portuguese Club, where we ventured for dinner. As the name suggests, this is a Portuguese venue - not unlike a Portuguese RSL. It's in the middle of nowhere really - you have to walk down towards Sydenham station, pass under a rail bridge, cross a footy field and there you are! We got there lateish so had to leg it in for dinner. The food is very home-style Portuguese. I had the quails, which sadly were disappointing, not having much flavour at all (although they did come with two types of carbs - rice and chips, hurrah!). However the rest of the meals were deemed good - the pork and clams was the winner (I've had it before and it is indeed delicious). The vegetarian in our midst didn't have many options though - I think he ended up with a garden salad and garlic bread. Own fault really, for shunning meat I say! My dessert choice sucked also - I ordered a chocolate flan (greedily trying to cash in on both regular flan and a chocolate treat). It had either been cooked too long or left sitting too long, neither of which is particularly heartening. However Mel and Shelley both liked their choice - they sensibly stuck to flan proper and it was apparently tops.

The highlight of my evening was a game of Portuguese bingo, in the hall between the front bar and the restaurant. The only difference to any other type of bingo was that the numbers were called first in Portuguese. At the time I was convinced I was fluent; I can't remember a single digit now...except perhaps Novo - Nine (that was how he said it!). We did appallingly. Shelley actually won in the $95 round however didn't realise til the next number had been called, thus missing out. 'You snooze, you lose' holds fast in competitive bingo, it seems!

We then adjourned to the front bar, which was holding raffles. What doesn't this place do?! And they were totally Portuguese style - salt cod and olive oil were the prizes, along with the more traditional meat and veggie trays. The bingo luck held, though, and sadly none of us walked away with anything.

Still, for the first locals night out, it got a big thumbs up from me. Lots of money spent on empty, fruitless competition, wines aplenty consumed, and an easy stumble home at the end of the evening. Hurrah for Marrickvillains!

Team Eating

The third Thursday of every month, my team at work has a meeting. It's the only time when both teams (South West Sydney - my team - and South East Sydney) get together officially. And to make sure we survive the morning (it's a long meeting; usually half 9 to lunch time) we bring food. A lot of food. We have something of a reputation throughout the workplace: we think it's that we live the good life, but I suspect everyone just thinks we're greedy and gross!

This month, I made Lumberjack Cake. It's kinda like a sticky date pudding on the bottom, very moist and delicious, with a crunchy / chewy coconut caramel on the top. It has apples and dates and coconut, so I consider it virtually a health-bar type of cake (ignoring the massive amounts of butter, sugar and cream!).



I had only made this once before, after meeting a potential volunteer in a previous job. We met after work hours at a cafe, and it was like one of those sympatico date movies: we ordered the same coffee, the same ricotta tart, and then gushed about all the same foods. We adore the same patisserie (in Summer Hill, they make a pear brulee tart to die for) and she mentioned that the same patisserie made a Lumberjack cake, that it was divine, and that I would love it. So I hot footed there, only to be told that they generally make this cake only in the winter months. Needless to say I couldn't wait that long so I made it myself. I remember liking it but not much more.

So I don't really know what brought it to mind, but for the last few weeks I have been thinking about it. Maybe it's cos of the change of the seasons and I have a previously undiscovered winter cake radar - whatever it was, I was determined to make this cake. And let me tell you, it was quite the hit. Half of the plate was gone before the meeting even started! The recipe was shared around colleagues (one then made it to be served warm,, with nice cream, for a dinner party he was throwing the next night!). So, if you make no other cakes this winter, make the friendly Lumberjack Cake. It is indeed OK.

Old School Cool

My sister is out on a first date tonight, to an ice cream parlour. Isn't that just divine?

The only slight woe is the lighting in Wagga's ice cream parlour is as harsh as a steel wool, but my sister is fabulous and I am sure her complexion is up to the challenge.

I asked her earlier what she would do if he ordered a bad bad ice cream flavour, like bubblegum. She said she'd run a mile. Dessert choice is so very important for future happiness.