Headed up to Sydney today, had about the worst drive it’s possible to have and survive without injury. The injuries are all mental.
Bathurst, being inland and dry, is separated from Sydney, which is coastal and wet, by the Blue Mountains range. The road across the Blue Mountains at the Bathurst to Sydney point is beautiful and coasts through the sandstone formations and mountains and a dozen or maybe more little towns, i.e. is hell itself to drive through.
My drive across the 70km or so of the inner mountains, went something like this:
Lightning, rain. Lightning, rain, portentous clouds. Hail, ridiculous amounts of lightning, backed up traffic, heavier hail, rain, stupidly heavy hail, hail the size of marbles, clusters of these marbles streaking white through the sky before exploding on car roofs and windshields, cars pulled over everywhere, rain, rain, such heavy rain, inches of water trapped on the road, spray from cars, rain, rivers running over the road, fog, huge pools of water lying on the road, more fog, lessening rain.
After the mountains got onto the relatively clear motorway into Sydney. Alas, Ryan had given me bad directions (was not the only time he did so over the prevailing few days), sending me not into North Sydney but to the far south, to the head of the Hume Highway and around the airport, adding about 35km or 45 minutes of the now dense traffic onto my trip. Had such joys as a car stopped dead in the middle of the tunnel under the airport, in four or five lanes of thick traffic, all horns blaring while this P plater just sat there, probably in pants full of poo, indicator on, not budging an inch. A little further down the road, on the turn off to the Eastern Distributor which would take me into North Sydney, I was cut off by some jerk from the exit and had to loop around an unfamiliar suburb back onto the Distributor, there was a nice fifteen minute detour.
All complaining aside, arrived safely, if in twice the time it should have taken. I got there just as Ryan’s grandmother decided neither he nor I would be there for dinner (which is odd since he arrived several days before I did) and decided to go without us. Anyway! We had a short walk down to the local RSL club to join them, and it was a lovely meal.
Picture of the Day 65: I’m a better photographer than Ryan
and here’s the proof:
So there’s always that 😉