true blue

It is gone 3am on Sunday morning and I am awoken by the sound of receiving a text message. It's from my Mum. It is news of unspeakable horror. It contains the following, harrowing content: Colchester 3-0 Norwich.

To say this plumps new depths is something of an understatement. It is as low as can be possibly imagined. Only a few years ago, Colchester were playing non league football while we were mixing it with the very best.

I found it very, very difficult to get back to sleep after hearing about this depravity. Such was my state of mind, I even texted my mother back to say I would never come back to England after this result, which probably unsettled the poor old girl.

Anyway, on Sunday (I always find it confusing to know what tense to write this thing in, but never mind) I headed off to the Blue Mountains, which are to the west of Sydney. The mountains are one of the biggest tourist attractions in the area, and derive their 'blueness' from sunlight refracting through the eucalyptus oil that evaporates from gum trees - whatever that means.

It's a two hour journey from Central Station in Sydney. Central is the only major station in the city and, given that it was built under British rule in the 19th century, looks very similar to big stations at home. It reminds me very much of Hull Station, although I am pleased to say that is where comparisons between Sydney and that hell hole start and finish.

During the journey to Katoomba - the main station close to the mountains - I scroll through my guidebooks and recollect tails from locals about what I am going to discover. This is a part of Australia famous for its Devonshire teas, for being one of the few habitable places in Australia that regularly sees snow in Winter, that has famously traditional Christmas celebrations. I was expecting a remote and small version of Bath or Edinburgh.

Upon arrival in Katoomba, it is clear I have got East Grinstead down under instead. The place appears to be, on first impressions, a very average small town with no redeeming features at all.

After coffee and lunch, I purchase an all day travel pass that will take me by bus to all the main sights in the mountains. The itinerary states there is the opportunity for bush walks, but stresses the need to take ample supplies of food and water in case you get lost. There have been cases of people going missing during these treks, and so I sensibly heed this advice and pack as much beer as I possibly can into my bag before setting off. Well, come on, if you're going to end up stranded on the side of a mountain it is sensible to have as much booze as possible.

The bus journey takes us past lots of places offering Devonshire tea, a few nursing homes and the odd golf course. Feeling distinctly unimpressed with the area, we are dropped off at one of the scenic spots. As I walk down the side of the mountain to the viewing point, my mood changes in an instant. Nothing can possibly prepare you for what I saw. No anecdote, picture or indeed anything. The view is utterly outstanding, like nothing I have ever come across in my entire life before.

My whole afternoon is then spent bush walking, photographing and supping the odd beer here and there. I have never, ever seen such beauty. As I stroll around, I eventually stumble across a waterfall. It then strikes me that this is genuinely the first time in my entire life that I have seen a waterfall in person - seriously - and I can do little more than just sit and watch in amazement.

To cap off the day, I travel on the 'Skywalk' which is, apparently, the only mountain train ride in the World with a glass floor, allowing you to stand over the terrifying drop below. It is an incredible experience.

The journey back to Sydney is a pain in the arse, although - not for the first time during my stay - I make it more pleasurable by ignoring the ban on drinking alcohol on trains here.

This really is a fantastic country. I don't want to leave it.