Sunday: Blue Mountains and Back

Sunday: Mount Victoria and Mount Tomah, Blue Mountains

Sunday morning we checked out of our hotel and drove to Mount Victoria to St. Peter’s Anglican Church for services. I snapped a few photos of the outside of the building, built of stone in 1891. According to Brian, my resident counter of all things, there were 21 other people, all Australian, worshipping with us. The temperature in the old building, despite the space heaters mounted to the walls, was frigid--so that I actually saw my breath in the church. As Brian said after the service and the following “bit of tea,” “It’s always great to see what the Lord is doing amongst Christians all over the world.”

The highlight of my Australian experience, thus far, was that trip to church. We were at least a full 30 years younger than anyone else in the service, so I’m not sure if this is the reason; but I’ve never seen so much tweed in one place in all my life. And if you’re wondering about the fashion viability of plaid wool pants, they are apparently alive and kicking on this continent. A kind and quiet woman named Mary poured my tea and it was her friendly husband Peter who was wearing the pants in question. Truly, I must have experienced this new world by now! Despite our obvious differences, we sang hymns that were familiar to us and the two passages of scripture preached by the rector were from Jeremiah 31 and Hebrews 10—two passages we’ve been studying side-by-side in our weekly Klamath Falls bible study. Christ is certainly alive and kicking throughout the world and the Church belongs to Him!

Thus far, the Australian people seem the friendliest on earth. Yes, they really do call each other “mate” and they do say “no worries.” They also say “hi” for “Hello” and “ta” for “thank you.” A “hike” is always referred to as “a bushwalk” and their expression “very nice” is just as likely to be misinterpreted in Australia as it is in the States. Australians are difficult to understand when excited and speak a bit louder than Americans, if that is possible.

After church we made a quick drive back to Blackheath for a spectacular breakfast. Brian had what he called The Vegetarian Special—lamb chop, sausage, bacon and poached eggs! I had an omelet—what the kids call “A Three Egger.” We finished with two slices of banana bread, a favorite over here, covered with ricotta cheese. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, America!

From Blackheath, we drove the Bells Line of Road to Mount Tomah Botanical Gardens, truly the most beautiful and extensive gardens I’ve ever seen in my life. The gardens were gifted to the people of New South Wales by a plant-loving family in 1972 and have been extensively developed since by the Royal Botanical Gardens of Sydney. Included in their collection is over 800 species of rhododendron, only one or two of which were in bloom. However, there were bulbs, lavender, heathers, flannel bush, red flame and some large succulents in bloom. The foliage and texture juxtapositions and the grandeur of the mature trees and moss-covered boulders were all so spectacular that it more than made up for the lack of flowers. We walked the grounds for about 4 ½ hours and both agreed that it was, perhaps, the most dazzling thing we’ve seen since arriving in Australia.

The drive back over the Bells Line of Road (an old Aborigine trail) was full of quaint orchards, rolling hills, and pastoral scenery aplenty. But swiftly the scenery took a nosedive as we headed past Richmond—graffiti, mass commercialization, metal fencing, strip malls and industrial debris have all taken their visual (and otherwise) toll on Australia as they have in the States. We finally made it back to our hotel—after missing a major turn—around 8PM and watched the finals for the women’s individual vault competition before crawling into bed at 9:30.

Saturday: Blue Mountains

Saturday: Leura, Everglades Gardens and Blackheath, Blue Mountains

Awake by 4:30, we packed quickly and made a killer egg and bacon sandwich for our breakfast. Even after checking e-mail, we were on the road by 6:15 and had arrived in Leura, Blue Mountains (west of Sydney), by 10:30. We bought a great little hiking/bushwalk guide to the Blue Mountains at the Visitor Centre. It was very expensive at $32—much more than you would expect to pay for a book in the U.S. The best part about the book is at the end—an illustrated guide to the flora and fauna of Australia.

Our first stop in Leura was on the recommendation of the concierge at our hotel. He emphatically recommended, with ample and amusing body language, that we eat at The Red Door café. He implied, with said body language and Australian nuance-- much of which was lost on me--that most of the cafes in Leura are places to “get taken” and are full of pretentious snobs. The Red Door, on the other hand, has barristas second to none (who, apparently, are often drafted for the Sydney café scene) and “hearty food, honest food.” After eating a hearty, honest breakfast there with the most amazing Earl Gray tea I’ve ever had in my life, I can at least vouch for the tea and the ham/feta/tomato omelet with pesto mushrooms, if not the coffee or anything else. Tea is well-done in this country, served in a small teapot with cream and sugar and a saucer and spoon. You can while away at least an hour with a friend and a $3 investment in tea.

After tea, we did some looking into the little jewels of shops in Leura. But our step into a used bookstore owned by a friendly French monsieur was our doom—or at least that’s probably how it felt from Brian’s perspective. Ah, the trials of being married to a bibliophile! About to leave, I “just happened” to spot a very small little brown book with an inscription from 1862: “A prize awarded to Emily Puill from the Sabbath School Rope Creek (as best catechism scholar) Christmas Day 1862.” The title of the book was “First Steps in General Knowledge: Vegetable Kingdom.” Immediately, I was engrossed in this book—a botany course for children in the form of a conversation between a Christian father and his children. I could not put the book down, even as Brian was politely trying to extricate my body from this too-cosy, too-inviting little shop with all the romance and atmosphere of a European vacation. Poor man! Not only books—but now a book on botany. The combination was too irresistible. I raised pleading eyes to his as he spied the $30 price tag. Of course from Brian’s perspective, it could only get better, the closer we came to payment and a quick escape. But no! Monsieur had just spent the past month acquiring all but one of the titles in the series, one of them a rare first edition. And so we left with Brian’s wallet $150 Australian dollars lighter and carrying all but one in the series: Vegetable Kingdom, Mineral Kingdom, Animal Kingdom, and The Starry Heavens—all written and published by Clarendon Press, Oxford “For the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.” Our nighttime reading with Dad routine will be amply enriched for the coming years.



After the bookstore, we decided against looking into the shop scene any further and proceeded to Everglades Gardens, now a public trust garden in Australia. This garden was once built and owned by a Sydney businessman of Belgian descent named Henry Van de Velde. The garden was designed and overseen by Paul Sorensen, a Dane with big vision. The garden was spectacular—with unobstructed views in places of the grandeur of the Blue Mountain sandstone cliffs, with huge rhododendrons, with giant moss-covered boulders and perfectly puzzled stone walls, with a man-made fern grotto that looks entirely natural, with stately Eucalyptus trees and bulbs everywhere. In another week or two, the entire garden will be in riotous bloom. For now we were content to observe the grand garden bones without the bloom and to enjoy the little that was in bloom. Visual texture has been mastered in this garden. The pictures say so much more than I could.





Post-garden, we continued to Blackheath, another town in the Blue Mountains, to see their version of the Grand Canyon. We took a taxing (for me) bushwalk to a spectacular lookout as the sun was getting low on the horizon. The shadow play was tremendous. The photos will never do it justice. This canyon is much smaller than our Grand Canyon—but a gynormous (Eva’s word) tribute to the creative hand of God once again. The bottom of the canyon is covered with blue gum (Eucalyptus) trees which exude an oil that gives the mountains the name of “blue.”



After a quick look in Blackheath at some of their shops and cafes, we made it to Katoomba—Tourism Central for the Blue Mountains—to view Australia’s version of The Three Sisters as the sun began its setting. It was perfect picture-taking time but also superbly chilly. Our “booking” for Indian food was sounding inviting. . .



Once again, we were tucked in bed by 8 PM.

Friday: Port Stephens/Salamander Bay

This morning we were awake by 3:30 and starving. Brian told me I ought to go back to sleep. I replied that I could not stay in that bed one moment longer—and he agreed. After a shower and a quick check on e-mail, our tummies were complaining. We called the front desk to find out when the grocery store opened: 8:00. But Australia is not the land of “Open 24 Hours.” The restaurant was open by 7, so we decided against making our own breakfast this morning. 3 ½ hours to go before we could eat—and, of course, no snacks because we were not traveling with the kids.

After a leisurely breakfast at the restaurant, Brian met the Klamath Falls team and made his way to RAAF Williamtown. I settled in for a long morning of work—answering e-mail mostly. But then the Unexpected: I could receive my e-mail but I could not send. It’s a helpless feeling to have directors with questions and to have the answers so close to me but so far from them. We’re still working the “send” issue and hope to have it resolved by Monday.

I spent the rest of the morning going to the grocery store and watching Andrew Pudewa of Institute for Excellence in Writing. It seems I have to travel 6000 miles to find enough time for Andrew.

The grocery store was an insight into quotidian Australian culture. It was a Woolworth’s grocery store! Much about Australian material culture is a throwback to the 1980s in America. The “Target” was much along the lines of the first Target I visited with Mom in 1984. The store signage is very red, white, blue, and plastic with large sans serif type abounding. The grocery store had many American and European products—and vegetables larger than any I’ve ever seen in the U.S. By the time I arrived at the store, I was already hungry for a burrito; but requests for pinto beans produced a strange look and the suggestion that I try the health food aisle. Candy is referred to as “confectionery.” Bacon comes in a “rasher.” Gas is “petrol.” Dog food is not dry but fresh and comes in huge chubs. Lamb hearts are also available in plenty for canine consumption, a fact that was lost on me until I’d contemplated for at least 3 minutes how one might cook a lamb heart.

At noon I was able to Skype with the kids—which was gratifying for all of us. I gave them a 360 degree tour of our bedroom (the internet access is plug-in, not Wi-Fi) and we chatted about Australia and their newly acquired golf gloves for 25 minutes.

Brian returned to our apartment around 2:00 and we set off for the famous beaches of Port Stephens. We walked along Shoal Bay for about an hour. The water was actually warm enough to swim and beautifully clear, though I didn’t have the faith to bring my swimsuit. I collected some shells for the kids and enjoyed the feel of squeaky white sand under my feet—after a two year hiatus. We returned on the footpath streetside and were startled to see an abundance of jazzy rainbow lorikeets flying from tree to tree. That same day, I also spotted a yellow cockatoo flying around as plainly as you might observe a seagull in the U.S.

After our “bushwalk on the beach” (is that a contradiction?), we had dinner with two of Brian’s teammates at Soldier Point. It was one of “those meals”—an incredible 270 degree view of the sunset over the water, an exceptional waitress, dazzlingly fresh fish, good conversation and a perfectly relaxed pace.

Again, Friday night we were asleep by 8:00.

Departure & Arrival in Sydney

The next few posts will be about my trip to Australia with Brian. First time ever out of the country without our children. First time apart for more than three days. . . We miss you guys!!!

Tuesday night: Flight to Sydney
We boarded the plane at LAX with heavy hearts. Eva had begun vomiting one hour before we left for the airport and we did not relish the thought of being out of contact with Mimi and Papa for the 15 hours that were to come. Our flight on Qantas was quite nice—not plentiful leg room but adequate, in-seat entertainment, fairly comfortable sleeping conditions (we slept nearly 8 hours) and a large crew of Aussie flight attendants, nearly all of them men!

Toward the end of our flight, while waiting for the bathroom, we met a native Australian named Deb—who now lives in Bend, Oregon! She was very sweet and even came back to our seat to hand us her business card, asking us to look her and her husband up next time we’re in Bend! What a surprise she’ll have when we’re there next—with our four children!

Thursday morning: Arrival in Sydney
We arrived at 7:30 AM Australia time and disembarked with phone in hand, hoping to call home ASAP. We were able to get in touch with Mimi, who said that Eva was still vomiting occasionally but not yet listless and still taking ice chips, some drinks, and complaining of hunger. Those were all promising signs—even great ones—but my mother’s heart rebelled at being 6000 miles away from our baby.

After a mixup with the rental cars for our party from Klamath Falls (they were downtown), we finally had our baggage through customs and our car—a Toyota of sorts. We headed off to the Aquarium with good directions but nevertheless managed to become lost in inner-city traffic moving the “wrong” way. Darling Harbour in Sydney is extensive, with fingers into what seems like every part of the city. My favorite quote (Brian): “All we need to do is to find the Harbour and we’ll be there.” We found the harbour—several times. We even found the Ian Thorpe Swimming Center. By the time we arrived at the Aquarium, I was well-versed in the terrors of turning right in a drive-on-left country, apparently into oncoming traffic. Brian’s least favorite quote (Cara, shrieked while turning right): “Aaaaaahh!!!!!!”



The Aquarium was nicely set up, with displays and aquariums for each of the wetland and ocean regions of Australia. We were able to observe a platypus, a snake neck turtle (just like it sounds), a behemoth saltwater croc, myriad eels, and a psychedelic assortment of Great Barrier Reef fish and organisms.



After the Aquarium we wound our way (all driving in New South Wales feels like winding) up the coast to Newcastle, where we had a meal at Brian’s favorite restaurant, Goldberg’s. This place was amazing to an American but actually quite typical of Australia. It’s a coffee shop that serves real food and real atmosphere in equal proportion. Water was “serve yourself.” Brian had a healthy portion of pasta with real veggies and meat. I had a generous bowl of dahl with raita and rice. Well-filled chalkboards and antique playbills filled the walls of the place. Baked goods were stacked high. Prices were very reasonable by Australian dining standards—around $15 each for lunch.



Post-Newcastle, we drove past several farms to our resort—more on the model of corporate apartments surrounding a giant circular pool. Our little apartment at the Oaks Pacific Blue Resort Salamander Bay is so pleasant--very clean and comfortable with somewhat-central heat (it is chilly), an outfitted kitchen, a living room, bedroom, closets, and bath. Even the bed is comfortable. Apparently many of these units are privately owned and rented when not in use. Compared to lodging prices in Sydney and Blue Mountains, the overnight price is stellar—a bit over $100 per night and the ability to cook in your own place. We were in bed and asleep by 7:00.

A New Post!!! Life Lessons from Golf

In the past six weeks, Brandt, Gresham, and Seth have been decidedly blessed by the Running Y's Youth Golf program. Not only were they all able to take lessons (yes, Seth too!) when Grandpa came to visit at the end of June; they since have been allowed to golf 9 holes every day of their choosing after 3PM--for a rock-bottom rate. Two weeks ago, we went out as a family on a Sunday afternoon and golfed together. Eva and I walked the course and the boys, including Brian, all played. Here are a few lessons I learned along the way:

1. It is possible for four boys/men to be quiet at once--if there is competition involved.

2. There is much to be said of the male capacity for imagination--if there is competition involved.

3. Boys and men are capable of encouraging one another without the persistence of a woman--but congratulating a friend on his double bogey (2 over par) is probably not the best way to start.

4. Thrust without vector makes for cringeworthy exhibition.

5. Multitasking is when you get in a long walk and a suntan with four children in tow.

6. Ruthless focus is at least one requisite element of success.

7. Walking nine holes took us nearly three hours: "For this fragrant oil might have been sold for much and given to the poor." Matthew 26:9. Time is a luxurious commodity in 2008. It is for pouring out on the rich blessing of people.