I really managed to set to with transcribing interviews yesterday,
frantically working the foot pedal as I listened to an interview and typed up its
content. Covered quite a bit of ground,
but still have hours, no days of the stuff to listen to. All quite fascinating though, as I again
realise and recall things I had forgotten, committing it all to paper as I
go. Quite a few hours in, and I decided
I needed some fresh air, so set off down the road towards Katoomba Falls and
Echo Point, all the while marvelling at the intensity of the light – autumn
here is a heady combination of coolness, humidity and harsh light, which
exaggerates all the colour, almost to the point of discomfort. It really is like nothing I have experienced,
like looking at the world through colour-enhancing spectacles. Echo Point affords an astonishing view across
the Jamison Valley, and this at the end of the road on which I am staying.
Looking out high above the forest ceiling, the sandstone cliffs and
extraordinary rock formations, as far as the eye can see there are mountains
that in the sun and shade of a cloudy sky really are blue. A cable car works its way back and forth over
the forest canopy, and a helicopter hovers noisily above some construction
site, delivering building materials far below the cliff top. I wandered a ways around the mountain-side
path, arriving at Lady Darley’s Lookout, before I turned and clambered up a
shockingly steep set of steps back to the road.
Seriously, only pride prevented me from stopping at the top and lying
down on the pavement. I really must
start running again, although maybe not around here… the hilly streets make
Minchinhampton seem positively flat!
Wandered (very) slowly along residential streets, passed faded motels
with fabulously 1960s neon signs, until I came across down-town Katoomba. Once again, a small Australian town that
appears to have reached its heyday around 1972 and then entered a decline. A wander through, then back to a coffee shop
I spotted at the start of my exploration where I bought a ‘flat white’, and a
rather delicious Florentine, which of course meant that like a three year old,
I was covered in chocolate by the time I got back.
More transcribing followed, tapping away at the keyboard, stopping
occasionally to tickle Coda-the-10-month-old Staffordshire Bull Terrier’s
ears. Poor Staffies have earned a bad
reputation, when in fact, with proper love and attention, they are fantastic
family pets. Thus I carry on, listening
to the cockatoos shriek outside, until my friend appears with a glass of wine
and a large plate of Sydney rock oysters.
Not everyone’s cup of tea I know, but oysters are one of my favourites,
and these were spectacular.
Now my friend’s 22 year old son is staying at present, and he recently
completed six months as a trainee chef, only giving up when he couldn’t take
the ridiculous abuse so many head chefs dole out these days. A great cook in the making, a doggie mishap
distracted him which led to the potatoes over-cooking, and him being none-too-pleased. As we were having fried flat head (fish!), I
stepped up to the ‘plate’, and transformed what were to be ‘chips’ into potato
cakes, laced with fresh parsley and fried in butter. Least I could do, given the wonderful generosity of my hosts.
Up early tomorrow to drive into Sydney and see the first of my
Marathoniers. I seem to recall parking
in central Sydney is shocking… hopefully there’ll be time to have a wander and
explore in the sunshine.
Rain, however, is forecast.
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