Driving on the M4 towards Katoomba. No accidents yet!
Category: Travel
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Beware of the cliff.
Today the Snook and I joined Amy for a trip to the Blue Mountains. Our first destination was the Three Sisters in Katoomba, as I’d never seen them. Then we did a little window-shopping and had lunch. Finally, off to do some real Aussie bush-walking. Our chosen path was the Grand Canyon Track which is 5 kilometers down into a sub-tropical canyon. We climbed down rocks and slithered under overhangs and splashed across streams, all with a minimum of hand-holds (and none of the accompanying legal waivers you’d expect in a similar American setting). I did fairly well; I only slipped a few times and I didn’t take any tumbles. My difficulties only began when we had to start climbing out again at the other end. That’s when carrying the extra weight really catches up with you. I felt like I was climbing the Endless Stair of Mordor. I was sweaty, tired, and puffing like a freight train. Finally I made it out. The guidebook says it’s a 3.5 hour walk; we did it in 3 flat. Kickass. We’re going to do it again in six months and see if we improve. More pictures tomorrow (assuming my legs function well enough to get me out of bed).
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One Eighty
The Snook and I went into our local Flight Centre today to price flights home for a 10-day visit in July. We walked out half an hour later planning a one-month round-the-world trip instead. As the Snook put it, if we’re going to be spending $2000 each anyway, why not go the extra $500 and make it a proper holiday? I was trying to be all grown-up and economical but then he mentioned the magic word… Italy. With visions of the Arno in my head, I rapidly agreed. Looks like the Snook-Howard World Tour will be leaving here in late June bound for Los Angeles, Chicago, London, Frankfurt, and Rome. Anybody got a floor we can crash on in one of those cities?
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Dublin photos are up
Highlights include a trip to the Guinness Brewery, a Viking tour in a World War II-era amphibious vehicle, a random celebrity encounter, and some Bad Asses. Or something. -
Dublin
I’m off to Dublin, kids. Play nice and I’ll show you my pictures when I get back…
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Dublin
Well, we finally managed to find some Dublin accommodation. It’s pricy… but the place looks really nice. I’m always torn between the student impulse to spend £14 for a cot in a room with 20 other people and the adult desire to have an en suite bath and full breakfast in the morning. What do you choose?
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Dublin
Good God. Never ever try to book a spur-of-the-moment trip to Dublin. I can’t find a hotel room anywhere. Unless a miracle happens, we’re gonna end up sharing a dorm room with eighteen scruffy backpackers.
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Scotland
So, yeah, last weekend Snookums and I went on a quick trip to Edinburgh, Scotland. As usual, I took lots of pictures for your perusal. Am I the poor man’s Michael Palin, or what? -
Australia photos are up!
Relive the entire adventure. I’m warning you though, set aside a bit of free time before you get started. I wasn’t kidding when I said I took a lot of pictures…
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Leaving before it kills me…
In eight hours I’m leaving sunny Australia for the neverending gloom of the U.K. As if that weren’t depressing enough, I tripped on a sidewalk running to catch a bus yesterday and wrenched my ankle, which is now the size of a grapefruit. I can barely walk. I’m talkin’ serious pain here. On the plus side, my sister would’ve loved it. (She finds pratfalls to be the height of comedy.) I mean, painful though it was, I can see the inherent physical humor in a person trying to simultaneously run, turn, and remove a bus ticket from a backpack, which leads to said person tripping on a crack, stumbling forward, skinning her knees and hands, and finally belly-flopping on the pavement right in front of her astonished boyfriend, a bus driver, and about 30 bus passengers of various nationalities. And let’s not forget the other catastrophes of this otherwise wonderful holiday: I fell on my ass in Snookums’s garage (resulting in an egg-sized bruise on my bum), I had a land leech attached to my right foot (which left a bump that began to itch like mad a week later), I was caught in the worst floods Australia has seen in fifty years, and I got fried to a crisp after spending a mere 20 minutes in the sun (resulting in peeling shoulders and my having to cover myself in SPF 30 every time I set foot out-of-doors). Like I said, it’s probably best that I leave the country before it kills me. The next time y’all hear from me, I’ll be home in the boring (but safe) U.K.