Comfort Foods and CRU

60^th AUS Trip Blog 4

Crusaders – Re-visiting my youth

 

Sausage Rolls with Aussie tomato sauce, cordial, jelly filled donuts, white tea, Anzac biscuits, flat white coffee, meat pies, morning tea.…….. Slowly I am eating my way through a bucket list of favorite foods from my youth.  

Sampling ANZAC Bicuits with Crusader Exec Director Gary Hill and Staff

 This week I am visiting, as official food tester, school camps run by the Crusader Union of NSW, the Christian Camping Organization that was so important to me when I was in High School. It is Spring Break, and they have several dozen camps of all varieties and age groups in session. So far, I have visited a Leadership Training Course, a Study Camp for seniors cramming for the Higher School Certificate, a dirt bike camp and a general sports camp held at my favorite Crusader Site, Lake MacQuarie.

Bible Presentation at Lake Mac 

It’s just as well for my hankering for Aussie comfort foods that I am on camps. The modern Aussie diet revolves around much healthier things like Thai and Vietnamese, light pasta dishes, grilled fish and disgustingly healthy salads. I can’t even find half n half for my coffee – it is all healthy skim milk. Oh well, they still feed the kids junk food.

There is one exception – McDonalds. Yes the ubiquitous restaurant is frequented by young and old, and is the most successful fast food restaurant in Australia. Gone is the Milk Bar Welcome “Maccas”.  At least there is an Australian flair to the Golden Arches. I saw a billboard which read:

“Mary had a little lamb. And fries and a Coke.

Try the New McDonalds Lamb Burger.”

Lamb Burger at Maccas

 

Note the Beetroot in the Lamb Burger.

It is nice for me to see that Crusaders has not lost its energy or its vision. Their camps, even study camps, are a mixture of high energy activities and highly sophisticated presentations of the basic Christian message. The leaders are appealing and kid friendly.  I’ve witnessed surprisingly good contemporary Christian Music, hilarious drama skits and articulate speakers, usually Youth Ministers from local churches. These get a free holiday for their family in return for making the presentations.  And the settings are rustically beautiful. 

Cru Leaders getting ready for a skit. They are snakes.

 

The campers are really into the experience, although the camp of 9-12 year olds where I am on now has over 80% of first time away-from-home kids. There is a fair degree of home sickness. Boys more than girls for some reason. Max, the boy I sat next to at dinner last night, spent the entire meal quietly weeping into his spaghetti Bolognaise.

Canoeing on Lake Mac

 

 

 With Iain at the Dirt Bike Camp, Southern Highlands

I hope to get pictures of the birds here. They are so different and colorful and they abound in these camps. So far, I have seen Kookaburras, Lyrebirds, Lorakeets, Rosellas and Sulphur Crested Cockatoos. Each one of these is the kind of bird you stop in your tracks to admire. I also saw a live wombat (as opposed to road kill) and several kangaroos on the dirt bike camp. These are nocturnal, so you need to be about in the bush at night to get a good look.

 

Well it is now time for breakfast and my food tester duties are calling.

Too many Anzac biscuits, too little time!

Cliffs and Coal Mines

60^thAUS Trip Blog 3

Blue Mountains Redux

Today was another wonderful day in the Blue Mountains. After a bracing bowl of steaming porridge, prepared by Dianne, we headed off to Peter’s little mountain church – Holy Trinity of Wentworth Falls. We found that they were serving a pancake breakfast, so to be obliging I sat down to a second meal of pancakes, strawberries and the wonderful thick whipped cream that Aussies like to serve up for such things. Bishop Glenn seemed to know half the congregation, and Dianne knew the rest. I basked in the glow of being the houseguest of a celebrity.

Following a surprisingly (for me) informal service given it was an Anglican church, we were all feeling a bit peckish, as it had been at least an hour since our last meal. Peter took us to one of his favorite haunts –The Blue Mist. I am on kick of trying to eat things that I only eat when in Australia, so I ordered the steak and kidney pie. I was disappointed. It was dried out and the kidneys had stones (joking about the last bit.)

After lunch we said adieu to Glenn and Dianne, who were heading back to Sydney.

Peter suggested that we work off our several meals by taking a stroll down the Golden Stairs and up the Katoomba Scenic railway. That sounded relaxing to me. Right.

The Jamison Valley, Katoomba NSW

We started on top of a steep sandstone cliff named Cyclorama Point. It hangs directly above the great landslide of 1930, an historic event which would have more meaning for me about two hours later when we found our path blocked by it. Our hike commenced tamely enough on a dirt road running along a ridge called Narrow Neck. Great views of sandstone cliffs and thick bush on every side. After about a mile we found the Golden Stairs – what false advertising! I had pictured a commodious and gently sloping set of stairs winding serenely through the bush. Well the truth is that it is a very steep path of dubious footing underneath. We clambered over tree limbs, slid down rocks, jumped from stone to stone and found the occasional stair that had been installed sometime over a century ago. Even more amazing to me is that the stairs descended dizzyingly for over a mile into the valley below.

Golden Stairs. Hikers Beware!

If you are wondering why the “stairs “, I should mention that this was a thriving coal mining region from the 1880s until the 1940s. Problem was that it was inaccessible by road, due to the fact that The Jamison Valley is a very deep bowl surrounded by vertical cliffs of sandstone. To access the coal seam, the miners had to climb down the cliffs, and tunnel in from the bowl side. We were following the miners’ daily work route – the Golden Stairs! Eventually they built a tram from the top to get the miners down and the coal up, so the stairs were abandoned by everyone except me and Peter. That tram (now called the Scenic Railway) hauls tourists at $11 a ride down to the old mines.

 

Cliffs above the Landslide of 1930

In other words, Peter conned me into a five mile hike when there was a five minute tram ride that would have accomplished the same thing!

 

Encountering the Rock Fall of 1930

Once down the stairs we passed a tunnel – still barely passable-which had supplanted the Golden Stairs by allowing miners to walk under Narrow Neck to work. The going got easier here as we were on an old railway bed. This railway had been powered by pit ponies. The easy bit lasted about half a mile and then we encountered the results of the great landslide of 1930. This was a section of the 500 foot cliff above which had fallen into the valley and was now a 100 foot high pile of rubble which we needed to climb over. Good thing we had brought some water with us, for this was hot work.

 Boulders below the Landfall of 1930

Once aver the rubble, it was a short walk to the entrances to the old mine. My family should note that there were heaps of HISTORICAL MARKERS and other artifacts to capture my attention. I now know everything there is to know about mining in Katoomba’s Jamison valley. Just ask me.

 Robbo in front of Historical Markers at Katoomba Mine

The ride up the Scenic Railway was breathtaking. NOTE: this is NOT a ride which would be legal in America. With no seatbelts you race up (or down) in an open sided car at a 52% grade. That’s a 45 degree angle plus 7. You must hang onto the bar in front of you or you will perform a front somersault. A helpful sign in the car advises you not to put children on your lap.

 After our rather strenuous bushwalk, it was my turn to set the agenda. I requested that we head into nearby Blackheath to the pub for a schooner of VB. And then to the Fish n Chips shop. 

Much needed comfort foods.

 

60^th AUS Trip Blog 2

Blue Mountains 

One of my old high school mates, Peter Robinson, met me as I exited Customs at Sydney’s Kingsford Smith Airport. Peter is an Anglican Minister whose current job is to supply Chaplains to Public Schools. Yes, that’s right, in Australia public schools are funded  to provide voluntary scripture classes and chaplains of all faiths. The state provides a part of their salaries, and organizations like Peter’s hire the chaplains and raise the rest of the funding.  Use of the chaplain’s services by students is voluntary, of course. Peter’s comment is that the program is well regarded, for the chaplains provide support,  counsel and spiritual guidance in a system where most adult interaction is much more formal.  Another interesting comment Peter made is that in Australia the term secular, as in secular education, has been traditionally defined and legally upheld to mean “no one faith is promoted over another”. It does not mean that no religion is allowed at all, for that would be promoting a non-religious view above all others.

 

 Peter Conway & Peter Robinson in the Blue Mountains

After a quick breakfast of Wheat Bix and espresso, provided by Peter’s older brother Martin, we climbed into the car and headed up into the Blue Mountains. The Blue Mountains remind me of the Western North Carolina Blue Ridge Mountains, or the Smoky Mountains of Virginia. It is a combination of light, a bit of haze and the thick canopy of trees, in this case huge gum trees that provide the bluish color.

The Blue Mountains west of Sydney

 

This area has been a get-away from Sydney from colonial days. We went past historic towns such as Lawson, Katoomba and Wentworth Falls, where Peter keeps a small bungalow for his getaways. Our destination was Medlow Bath, where my friends Glenn and Dianne Davies have their weekend home.

 

"The Beacon" home of Glenn and Dianne Davies

 

We stopped in Wentworth Falls to check on Peter’s place and to stretch our legs by hiking the Charles Darwin trail to the top of the falls. Yes, Charles Darwin himself made this trek in 1836, noting how what was once a tiny rivulet had evolved, over eons, into a mighty waterfall. Profound. I will skip recounting the interesting conversation Peter and I had about the theories of evolution and creationism. If interested, email me for a full account. Suffice it to say that our conclusions left room for the evolutionary process, as observed by Darwin, to be a method that the Creator may have used once creation was underway.

Upper Section of Wentworth Falls 

Glenn and Dianne met us at their lovely home nestled up against the bush, ringed by gum trees and conifers of various descriptions. Their lovely garden is full of native plantings – waratah, wattle,  banksia, mountain ash, and various gums. After lunch we took a short bush walk behind their place. The birds were colorful and abundant. We saw sulphur crested cockatoo, Australian magpies, Crimson rosellas , possible a Corella.

 Glenn Davies

It always amazes me how large the Australian birds are, compared to the generally petite birds we have in the states. A robin would be a tiny bird here.



 

Evening falls in the Blue Mountains

 

 I am not sure what happened that evening, as jet-lag set in and I retired shortly after tea…

 

TAKING OFF FROM LAX

60^th AUS Trip Blog 1

LA

Although for family readers my efforts will be sparse compared to Julia Juster’s dispatches from Copenhagen, they will, I pray, give a glimpse into my grand Australian adventure. If the pen is mightier than the sword, Julia wields a battle ax to my paring knife. So be it.

On Wednesday September 9^th I departed Cleveland, to which I shall return, Lord willing, on Monday, October 15^th.  26 days later. Let the stats intrigued note that this includes no September 20^th, and two October 11ths, due to the mystery of the International Date Line.

Things to LA went very smoothly, in that the plane left on time, arrived early, and my bags decided not to abandon me just yet. They are biding their time.

I soon remembered why I hate LA airport (LAX). It is HUGE, seven terminals, poorly marked, and always under construction.  Today, the plane came into terminal 3, but the bags were delivered to terminal 4. I did note a dozen or so empty carousels in terminal three, apparently for display purposes only.  I searched in vain for an interior route to terminal 4. There is none, you must physically leave each terminal and climb over arriving, departing cab and shuttle seeking travelers on a sidewalk that is no wider than an escalator.  I would repeat this dance later on in the day while attempting to find QANTAS, but I shall spare you the details.  Despite many signs that QANTAS departs from Terminal 4, it really departs out of a temporary terminal which is only referred to as “Aisle B”. How anyone made the plane remains a mystery.

Anyway, LAX behind me for the moment, I pursued my intention to spend my 11 hour layover doing something other than sitting in a departure lounge. I had booked a hotel room nearby, and determined that I would drop my stuff in the room and head to the nearest beach. More or less that was what happened, although I could have walked to the hotel in the hour it took me waiting in the AVIS line. I hate the way car rental companies handle reservations almost as much as I hate LAX.

The weather was perfect, 80 degrees and cloudless. A bit of smog made the purple hills hazy, but it all looked beautiful. The neighborhoods around LAX are transitional. Some well-kept bungalows on tree lined streets, some drab, beat up shopping areas. Some luxury hotels next to vacant lots and burned out buildings. Streets congested with cars, cyclists and a surprising number of pedestrians.  I thought everyone drives in LA.

 

 

The nearest beach is Dockweiler state park, which crouches at the western end of the LAX runways. I feared that it would be dirty and scary, but it was wide, clean and serene. Serene? Well, after an hour or so you don’t even notice the jumbo jets  directly overhead at altitude 100 feet, straining to climb high enough to miss the tankers moored off shore. The seagulls are actually noisier in terms of constant background. Perhaps the cleanliness and serenity are due to the fact that most LA folks would probably NOT choose the end of the runway as their favorite beach destination. Just a guess.

What I was after was not sunbathing, but to rent a bike and ride the 20 miles of bike paths that I was assured ran through the park.  I was not disappointed, finding a friendly bike store operator at the end of the parking lot I happened to enter. For the grand sum of $14, (plus $8 parking) I was able to cruise up and down the beach and enjoy a glorious California afternoon.

Californians do the beach lifestyle well. As I got away from the runways there were plenty of scantily clad Californians to peep at. I will say that you don’t see many who have no business in a bathing suit. On the bike path, mind you this was 2:30 in the afternoon, were hundreds of cyclists, runners, skateboarders, roller bladers, and walkers. Most of whom looked as if they were of the age where they should be at work or at school. But they were all diligently WORKING OUT. No cheery waves or welcoming smiles, which I try to elicit from everyone I pass. No, these folks were WORKING OUT, and it is a very serious business. Most do not even make eye contact.

 

My route took me through the sea-side towns of El Segundo, Playa Del Ray and Marina Del Ray, in order of affluence as one gets further from the runways. They actually were all cute and attractive right at the beach level. I can only imagine what the beach front bungalows cost. There must be zoning restrictions against high rises right on the beach, for those did not start four until three or four blocks, on top of the hills. Marina Del Ray, which I have visited before, must have three boats for every resident.  Imagine the largest parking lot you have ever seen packed with boats. And there are dozens of these marinas in every inlet and cove. I can only imagine the chaos if a hurricane ever came ashore here.

 

 

I did note three different film shoots as I traversed the area. One had Victorian looking costumes all hung on racks, with a special trailer next to it for the talents’ dressing rooms. Not a soul was about. I next came across a fashion shoot where four elegantly clad young ladies were repeatedly running across the sand arm in arm. The last set must have been for an action movie. Tons of ATVs in camo colors and other quasi-military vehicles. Again, no talent. Only security guards.

 

Well I am now in hour ten into the 13 hour LA to Sydney flight. It has been very comfortable. I am trying Business Class for the first time. It is the way to go. Your seat reclines fully into a bed. They give you a pillow a blanket, and your own set of pajamas with a kangaroo on them!  And a cuppa tea when you awake. I love Qantas.

My itinerary for the next three weeks is full:

·       Weekend in the Blue Mountains with friends

·       A week in New South Wales visiting Christian camps in operation

·       A week plus sailing a yacht on the Great Barrier Reef, in the Whitsunday Islands

·       A half week back in Sydney visiting friends and teaching some history classes at Shore School

Be back online soon, but now for another cuppa.