Feeling Manly

Sydney, 09/21

We dropped Maya and Tim off at the airport today. It felt odd to part after three weeks, a bit like sending the parents off back home while staying on vacation, and I told Catherine as much. “Let’s go get drunk,” was her well-timed and much-needed response. So we did.


We stopped to run an errand or two on the way down to the water,

then took the ferry from Circular Quay out to Manly, taking in the sights of Sydney Harbor.


Disembarking at the wharf, we stopped for a drink and some sushi, arriving at the beach at the height of the golden hour. Kids played

Old men fished and young blokes surfed.

We sat in the sand and watched seagulls scavenge in the golden glow of the setting sun.

We opted to take a water taxi back to Sydney instead of the ferry, and stopped on the way back to the wharf for a small bottle of champagne.

The taxi came and met us at the bar. The ride was amazing.

We had a swell driver (pun intended)

who, at Catherine’s request, took us out and under the Harbor Bridge

by Luna Park

so that we could enjoy the spectacular view of the city lit up at night,

from the Bridge to the Opera House,

giving us time to finish the bottle

and feel the wind in our hair (hee hee).

Aussies rock my world, and on the best of nights, my boat.

Back at the mooring, we headed straight for the Oyster Bar,

right next to the Opera House (the scene of our first night’s welcome to Sydney), and enjoyed oysters and (more) champage.

Sated, at least so far as food was concerned, we left downtown, which now looked a bit like this:

and caught a cab back to the house, stopping on the way for yet another bottle of champagne and the added accoutrements of strawberries and whipped cream.

You should have seen the look on Dorothy’s (Catherine’s mum) face when Catherine told her to close her eyes and open her mouth. I don’t think I’d ever heard such words uttered by one family member to another (except for that one time in Kentucky). Daughter rewarded mother with a large globbing mouthful of whipped cream.

At this point, needless to say, we were seeing stars.

However, as the French surely have a knack for their bubbles, we awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and ready for a day at the beach, even if still just a tad bit pissed.

Blue Mountains, Day Two - Climbing

Our second day in Katoomba, we headed up to some rocks to go climbing.



A good time was had by all, including our friendly guide Julie,

who even got to get on the rock once or twice herself (she trusted us to belay!?!?). One of the best ways to spend the day, out away from the ruckus, just dabbling in rock and chalk and dirt. Really puts a peaceful smile on your face.

Blue Mountains, Day One - 3 Sisters

Carrington Hotel, Katoomba:
Um. There’s a billiards room here,

a fact in which I just delighted on my way back from the bar. And the doorknobs sit about five feet off the floor, leaving some (Tim included) to wonder just how kids might escape from a room on fire. There are chairs everywhere, and plush velvet couches with cushions on every side.

Two stone maidens grace the front steps, just underneath and out from the plantation columns that shore up the ceiling above the front patio (I like to call it the smoking area) where I now sit.

This is one of those old school places your parents used to tell you about. Straight out of Savannah, Georgia,

the kind where all the trim is gilded and every stairway carpeted.

The kind of place where old codgers wonder just how to get down to the brasserie and just what to make of the young American chap giving them painfully detailed directions.

This is the Carrington. In Katoomba, a little town in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney. And it’s under renovation. They were painting outside today when we arrived, fresh in off the train from Sydney.

We dropped our bags,

ate a quick lunch

(best veggie burgers in all of Australia) and headed down the main drag (aptly called Katoomba St.) for to take in a slice of the splendor that is the Blue Mountains.

After a brief jaunt we came to the lookout at Echo Point. In the visitor center we were told that the maps were shoddy and even now up for revision, and that we should pay close attention to their verbal directions instead. Actually, this is not what they told us at all – but they should have.

We took in the views, which were, to say the least, phenomenal. Spectacular even. Sheer sandstone cliffs dropping off to green forests, forded by slow-moving gondolas. The Three Sisters sat in silent silhouette, a titillating testament to geologists the world over.


We hiked down to the cliffs, continuing toward the (I kid you not) Megalong Valley floor. The stairs were steep and mostly stone, the railings a real relief for my rapidly palpitating ticker.

These were the kind of steps one would really not wish to slip on. After a daring descent

we reached the bottom, and followed the trail to the North along their feet, backtracking toward town. Cockatoos cawed from above, and the canopy above us spoke in remembrance of a sun it had not seen for hours. We overtook a small group of Europeans, promptly leaving them in the dust.

And then came the ascent. It was, to be sure, a wicked ascent. Upward we climbed, past waterfalls and trickling streams, over bridges, and up, yes, up, more steps. On and on we climbed, like Rutherford the Brave on his valiant quest to meet the mighty Icculus. As we climbed the sunlight came back to us in vague shades until finally, just when I thought I could climb no more, we reached the top, the pinnacle, the apex, the penultimate orgasming peak that was . . .

. . . rather anticlimactic, oddly enough. Trees blocked the view from the quote unquote lookout, and a homeless man found brief moments of respite between trompers on a sandstone ledge.

And yet the fact remained that we had done it! And then Maya went for a run. JK. Tim and I had a beer,

(well, OK, two)

followed by massages for all, and finally, dinner. Ta! Ta!

Sydney - Newtown Festival

The rest of the weekend was filled with much of the same. A party on Saturday. Two festivals on Sunday. Fun fun fun. Rather than get into it, I'll just post some pictures, cuz you know the deal . . .

Maya flies a kite to the trance soundtrack emanating from below:

And is very happy about it:

Him: Ooooh, kite. Her: I wish he'd just bug off already and go fly a fuckin' kite.

The cute couple:

The other cute couple:

Catherine and Maya:

Brooke, Caine, and Catherine:

Kim and her fun friends:

Closeups:



Maya asks me nicely to stop taking pictures:

Maya lets the hand do the talking:

So then I had to resort to shooting fotos of other people: