The Blue Mountains; SERIOUS nostalgia; and Australian friends

I've spent enough days on fine sand with the Tasman Sea before me to last the entire holiday. I'm yet to visit Manly, or to learn how to surf, or other such exciting things, but too much beach by myself can lend itself to being monotonous, regardless of the fun to be had swimming underneath waves...

Anyway, so on Thursday I got a train out of Sydney Central to Katoomba, which is one of the towns in the local "Blue Mountains". Whilst out there it's hard to distinguish them as mountains, but signs relate your position as being 3000 ft above sea level...so I suppose that's fairly mountainous. And what breathtaking views! I went because it was something different; something that had been recommended, and I will now recommend it to everyone. The mountains are covered in dense forests with trails and paths constructed throughout, and you can choose to walk along the clifftops above, or through the trees down below. I did a huge amount of both, though only after orientating myself with the world's most unhelpful map (included on the back of a bus tour leaflet). And it was just so much fun! Running through rainforest, standing on precipices hundreds of metres high overlooking the mountains.

My knees didn't like it though, and there were many occasions when trying to stand and take photos that my legs started wobbling uncontrollably. But it was worth it, and all came to a wonderful conclusion after the Giant Stairway at Leura Cascades. Unfortunately my camera ran out of battery at that point, so I don't have photos of the water, which is a shame. The Giant Stairway was an epic trek too. In the mountains where I was, there is a formation where the rock has been weathered away so that there appear to be three stone heads, commonly known as the "three sisters", and up the innermost one are a set of man-made steps that allow people to climb the rockface to the top. What. A. Massive. Effort. It was exhausting, yet my spirits were totally lifted at the top. Something that was nice about that climb, and about walking through the forests in general is how friendly everybody was. Maybe it was simply the endorphins flowing from all of the exercise we were doing, or maybe people were just enjoying the view and the experience so much; whatever the reason, everyone was cheerful and in a positive state of mind.

What a day.

Now the following day was very, very different, and definitely a whole lot more emotional. It was Friday, and in the evening I would be meeting Anna and Lucia for dinner and catching up (or meeting/getting to know in Lucia's case). So, to pass the time in the day I thought I may as well go for a walk. But instead of doing the usual walk around the various bays or different streets of the local area, I thought that it would be worth going across the Harbour Bridge in to North Sydney.

And 14 years ago I lived in a suburb called Wollstonecraft which is located in the North part of Sydney. So, I decided to walk there.

Going across the Harbour Bridge is a mission in itself. Pedestrians can only walk along one side, while cyclists use the other side and motor vehicles occupy the uncrossable road. And to get to the footpath you have to join the Bridge at particular sets of stairs too. From the south side there are a few connecting staircases, but the closest ones are still a long way from the south pylons, and on the north side you don't have a choice but to follow the path all the way to the end.

I made my way over to the other side of Sydney, and immediately started enjoying the familiarity of the way things looked, and certain streets. Luna Park is a fairground right next to the Bridge, with its creepy laughing face, and I remember going inside the grounds of it when a lot younger, but not being allowed to go on any of the rides. Way to scar a child for life. I'll just explore it better one of these days.

The roads along the way were not nearly as exciting or vibrant as those to the south. I think my mind was a little preoccupied with where I was going, but even so, they seemed remarkably emptier and soulless. There was a bridge along the way with great echoing acoustics: I was walking underneath it as a car drove past, and it sounded like it was coming at me from all directions. An exciting distraction.

This is where I used to play as a child.

This is where I went to school.

And this is where I lived.

Seeing my old house 14 years later...wow it was overwhelming. Again it's that old tale of "never thought I'd see it again" that keeps ringing around. It was dreamlike seeing the house, and the park, and the school, none of which seem to have changed one bit. The park still had it's rubbish toilets and swingset where a 3-year old showed me up once upon a time. The school didn't seem to have been refurbished, and there were the benches where I'd eat my lunch, and the steps running down to various playgrounds and climbing frames. And then there was our house, where I lived for a year, which looked just like it does in all our old photographs...

Massive sigh. It's strange revisiting the past.

Lucia picked me up in the evening, and drove us (on a slightly convoluted route) to Sydney University where we met her boyfriend John, and Anna. Given how long it's been since I saw them (particularly Lucia), it was really nice catching up; talking about dropping out, HMV, gap years, people in London, etc. We had Japanese food which, like all food here, is so much better than anything I've eaten back home. Anna showed us briefly around her college too; it was reminiscent of Oxford and that style of architecture and decor. Swanky for Sydney. After that we all called it a night until the next time.

I'm leaving my current accommodation on Wednesday to see further family and family friends. And after that? We'll see.