Blue Mountains YHA
9/20/00
Wednesday 9:20 PM
What a bloody waste of a day. I just got up from a 5 hour nap. I’ve only been awake for 3 of the 8 hours we’ve been in Katoomba. I’m not even sure where Marc is. That’s OK, though. I wouldn’t want him to be sitting around while I was sleeping off my cold. Lousy head cold. I’ve been looking forward to being here for a week. And now I can’t even enjoy it. This sucks.
Yesterday didn’t suck. We ate breakfast at Zollees. Marc fell in love with his banana smoothie. Then we went back to the beach. I read the paper instead of swimming. Then we took our epic journey to town. In order to avoid paying any fares, we took the hour bus ride to Olympic Park, went through the security checks, cut through the park, and took the thirty minute train to the CBD. Our objectives were to obtain the UPS pin du jour, and cash my last traveler’s check. We only accomplished the second. Since we couldn’t find the pin people in Darling Harbor, we settled for a $14 jug of Cascade. It was alright. We had to sit inside, unfortunately. Marc wanted to sit at the bar to begin with. Again, I don’t get it. We were at Darling Harbor, it was a beautiful afternoon, and he wanted to sit inside a dark bar. No appreciation for atmosphere, that boy.
We had to make it back to Homebush for our 7:00 gymnastics tickets, so we headed back towards Central Station. On the way we stumbled across Yankee Way: McDonald’s, Subway, KFC, Pizza Hut, and Hungry Jacks (Burger King). We went for the latter. Never, I repeat, never order an Aussie Burger. Oh, it looks good in the picture: a juicy burger, bacon, barbecue sauce. You want to have it. But wait, that’s not bacon! That’s under cooked ham. What appeared to have been barbecue sauce was in reality slices of beets! And is that a fried egg under the lettuce?! It makes me sick just thinking about it.
Feeling a bit queasy but no longer hungry, we caught our train. This trip to gymnastics was not as eventful as the last: no confiscated beer, no drinks at the Vista Bar, no wine in the stands. And this time the elevator music playing didn’t threaten to put us to sleep. The lack of oxygen, however, did. We were second from the top, right next to a couple from Columbus. The Americans were everywhere in the Super Dome, cheering the loudest (except for some lady from Spain). Some were actually chanting: U-S-A. Oi! Oi! Oi! Almost as bad as: Rus-si-ia! Oi! Oi! Oi! Sad, really. We thought the US had a chance at placing. They were second to Romania, and Russia appeared to be riddled with mistakes. Marc and I, however, are no gymnastic judges. Romania took gold; Russia silver; and China bronze. The US placed fourth. It was neat to see, but a bit subdued. I doubt I would shell out the cash for these tickets again.
Afterwards we had just enough time (the match lasted 4 hours) to stop into the Super Store. I had to find a T-shirt for Brian. Just the other day the fool emails me about a volleyball shirt. They of course had plenty at the venue, but none at the Super Store. He’ll have to settle for a tennis shirt.
The whole park was closing down, so we caught the bus back to the Beachouse. I wanted to make an early start to maximize our time here, but this damn cold kept me in bed until 8:00. We eventually got up and checked out. We had to catch a regular bus to Central since the spectator’s bus didn’t go near a train station. We rode on this huge bus-train: it had another bus hitched to the back. And for good reason, too. It was full by the time we got to the Harbor Bridge. At Central we jumped on a train for Katoomba. I was already feeling tired. I couldn’t sleep because Marc didn’t have a clue where we were going, as always. So after a lengthy trip, we got off and checked in here. Nice place. Game room, 7 V room, wood burning stoves, a reading room. Quite nice. Just too bad I’m TOO TIRED TO ENJOY IT. We ate at a cafe on Katoomba Street, and then I dropped Marjorie and the parents an email about my imminent return. Doesn’t that suck. We came back, I took out my contacts, confirmed my flight home (again, that sucks), and I went upstairs and passed out. What a waste of my precious remaining time.
I must admit that at this point there is a part of me that wouldn’t mind going home.
Between my souvenirs and that big-ass towel, my pack floweth over. Nothing will satisfy me more than dumping that thing out in my room for the last time. And although I am in certainly no hurry to leave the Land of Oz, I am anxious to get started at school. There’s a lot of work waiting for me there, and I want to get it done. But hey, if somebody came up to me tomorrow and gave me a residency visa and a plane ticket for Marjorie, I’d have a hard time saying no. Well, a job would help, too.
Hey, where is Marc? He’d best not be having too good of a time.
KC