It transpires that our dive computers have been held up in customs and I am to contact them in Sydney. This of course is worrying Mum who has FedExed them to me! A telephone call to FedEx in Sydney, over a hot chocolate, revealed that to complete the process of importing our dive computers I would have to explain what a Suunto Mosquito was, and answer questions such as 'is it a watch?' and 'how does it work?', several times over, 'where does it come from?' and 'there's one?' despite the FedEx screen saying there was two in the package and 'what's your name?' despite that being on her screen too. The generally very irritating call during which I had to constantly repeat myself, coupled with the cost of the phone call, some AUD 7, only AUD 3 less than a 23 minute call to England, would have been acceptable if I had actually been communicating with Australian customs, not FedEx staff! The first 3 minutes were spent waiting for the misunderstanding woman to 'release the screen' so she could track my waybill number and progress with her enquiry. In the end she logged that the computers were watches even 'though I stated that 'their primary function is to compute our no decompression time so we don't get ill underwater, and it also tells the time.' I suppose you could interpret that as a watch then...
I was charged AUD 120 for GST and AUD 50 for an electronic lodgement fee, for importing electronic goods. It's like receiving a fine!
We made our way out of Dubbo, stopping at the visitors centre to use their facilities and dispose of some rubbish.
I chose to read my book for most of the journey so wasn't much company for the driver who didn't tire today. We had a momentary pause at Wellington that has caves that they want to charge you lots of money to tour and a Japanese garden which was free and pretty. They had some, what appeared to be, water features made of bamboo but on reading about them we discovered that they are in fact acting as scarecrows to frighten goats away from crops in fields. As the water fills one end of the bamboo cane it pivots and pours the water out. As it is released back to collect more water and repeat the process it whacks another cane of bamboo and supposedly this loud noise scares the goats away. It caught our attention anyway so it must work.
At the entrance to Wellington stands a tall sculpture erected in recent years. It is constructed from a railway bridge that collapsed in 1989 and represents the town of Wellington, its people and local wildlife and grasses. As I photographed the sculpture, checking for snakes underfoot, it was baking hot and I and my camera were melting under the clear sky.
Although the air conditioning was on in the car Ian had positioned the car so that the sun beaming in through the windscreen counteracted with the good work the air conditioning unit was doing and Ian was hot too when I clambered back into the car looking for respite.
Cafe Latte, in Orange, provided us with lunch. My freshly squeezed orange juice contained a very long head hair wrapped around the drinking straw which I instantly got replaced. Ian's burger had a smaller, darker head hair in it which, after I'd gotten my drink replaced, we both spotted at the same time. Ian kept quiet about it until we paid and then following the 'how were your meals?' he offered 'okay, but there were too many head hairs in them.' The dim waitress didn't even acknowledge it which disgusted me. There was no apology, nothing. She was completely blank. I wonder why the kitchen staff don't wear head nets like the factory staff in the food industry in England do? It's such a simple solution which minimises the possibility of loose hairs finding their way into your customers meals, but then again I guess you have to be interested in you customers opinions to care enough to implement sensible rules.
The weather turned as we ascended into the Blue Mountains where goats could be seen balancing on the rockfaces. It was a dense fog that greeted us as we arrived in Katoomba. The YHA is marvellous. A very spaceous, well decorated, light and bright former caberet hall from the 1930s. We have another night of luxury tonight with an ensuite. The temperature change is quite welcome. For now I would rather add a layer of clothing than get irritable, unable to shed my skin in the intense heat with mosquitoes flying around, buzzing in my eye and biting my limbs.
On the news we heard that bushfires continue to burn out of control. Twenty five per cent of the four hundred homes destroyed in Canberra were uninsured. Imagine having to pay a mortgage for a home you no longer have. It's unbearable.
Katoomba seems a bit strange. For one, they can't make hot chocolate nor scones. The people seem a little bit zombie like and they talk to themselves and the town is full of travellers and seemingly nothing else. There's coffee shop after coffee shop but we seem to have picked the wrong ones...
We can't see anything of the Blue Mountains for the fog.
From Dubbo to Katoomba we travelled 320 kilometres.
Neither of us being hungry, probably due to too much bad hot chocolate, we skipped dinner and had several games of bao instead. Ian was on a winning streak and kept on playing me at my own tricks. He must have been paying attention last time we played.
Copyright 2003 Helen Fuller. All rights reserved.