Our adventures over West finished, our plans were to return to the Blue Mountains for Christmas. We were a little earlier than we had intended to be, but were looking forward to seeing the Flying Fox again and getting back into our tent overlooking the beautiful valley below. We had a prime position when we got there – right on the cliff edge; and were only a little nervous once or twice when thunder storms came rolling over the mountains, or when it was pointed out that the cliff was eroding at a speed of around 15 feet a year!
Settled in, we started looking forward to the beginning of the festive season. It could very easily have passed us by, though – as it was so understated. No tacky decorations in windows, or lights in the streets. People are jolly already when it's the height for summer so there isn't the same need to cheer people up as there is back home where Christmas is celebrated in the middle of winter. But with a few cards arriving in the post from people back home, and a calling in the back of my mind reminding me of the need to go out and get a Christmas stocking, Christmas was celebrated in the usual drunken and bloated fashion.
Our first night out was back down to the Jenolan Caves, where previously I had enjoyed long afternoons wandering among the crystals and underwater streams. I started the day with a walk through one of the largest open caves I had ever been in, romantically named the Devil's Coach-house, in which I was able to find some formations only found in three other caves worldwide and a few small fossils in the limestone walls. After this, we trooped into a cave called the Lucas Caves (named after a politician that had done much work to ensure the preservation of these 450 million year old national treasures) and up to a 54m high cavern known as the Cathedral. It was in here that we had an evening of Hungarian gypsy music performed by two East-European musicians (a guitarist and violinist) to the dramatic lighting of crystal walls and stalactites and the eerie accompaniment of a dozen bats which flew around our heads throughout the performance. The evening ended in a very festive session of over-indulgence of cheese and wine and much chatting with the musicians.
A couple of days later, Christmas Eve was upon us. This is an important day for many of the people at the hostel – the Germans, French, and Danish, for example – as this would be the main day of celebration back home. Two of the French guys, Nic and Alex, organised a massive spread of salads, pastas, and cold meats to which 30 people sat down and gorged. Many a drink was spilt and mince pie dropped on the floor before the festivities were over!
Christmas Day, on the other hand, was a considerably more relaxed affair. Morning started with the traditional opening of presents (in the tent, of course) before the making and serving of canopies in the hostel began. Smoked salmon, cream cheese, pates, and exotic fruit were the main things on the agenda – but again, the mince pies stole the day (I now have a new personal record for consumption throughout the day). Unlike the previous day however, when it had been warm well into the night, Christmas Day was dull, dreary, and cold – so it was with nostalgic but familiar resignation that the day was filled with board games, log fires, and warm brandies.
The lull between Christmas and New Year's Eve was filled with many more evenings of indulgence. As most people at the Fox were there throughout the period, it was starting to feel like a close family, so t was reluctantly that we said goodbye to our friends and went for a couple of days excursion down the coast. Myself and Sian enjoyed a couple of lovely sunsets and sunrises on picturesque beaches, early morning swims, and late afternoon pub-lunches in places with beautiful names like 'Fairy Meadows'.
We returned to Sydney for New Year's Eve – one of the biggest parties in the World, and one of the first areas the New Year is welcomed in. We met up with friends from Katoomba and went in search of fun and festivities in the town. Our initial attempt to get into the Botanical Gardens was scuppered at the last minute when they declared the place full-to-capacity; but it wasn't long before we found a bar in which to collect our thoughts and plan a new strategy. When the New Year arrived we were stood on Piermont Bridge where we had views of several of the barges in the water, much of Harbour Bridge, and most of the buildings throughout town where more fireworks were to be launched. When they started erupting, they were all around us. It was impossible to know where to look! Everyone shouting 'look over there!' and pointing in every direction imaginable. And the vibe of the whole city afterwards was fantastic. Everyone in the whole city seemed intent on congratulating everyone on being alive at the start of a new year for at least the next 36 hours. And although everyone had warned us of the crowds, it wasn't uncommon to be 40 feet behind the person walking in front as we strolled through the festival!
New Years Day was a scorcher! Starting the day earlier than ever before, we headed for the swimming pool where we cured hangovers with ice creams, sangria, and swims until we were regrettably sunburnt, but deeply satisfied.
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