Australia day 21

July 17

Sydney may be one of those world-class cities – and we won't dispute that fact with any who have enjoyed their stay there – but after seeing great swaths of Sydney and her unsung suburbs, thanks to the detours our GPS had us take to avoid paying tolls, we felt we had seen enough of Sydney.

We decided that more remote locations were more to our liking. We wanted to experience the Blue Mountains while some time still remained before we left Australia. We had seen so much of Australia as it was. We wondered if we had stayed a little overlong in this country.

The drive up to our destination of Katoomba was surprisingly congested. The map and the literature didn't hint at how popular Sidney's hinterland would be. As usual, we watched for other recreational vehicles but saw virtually none. We started out under partly cloudy skies but reached our destination under overcast conditions with occasional mist. We had reserved a site at the Katoomba caravan park, so we went straight there to claim it and pay for it. Then we went to Scenic World at the bottom of Katoomba's main street. We arrived to find zero visibility – pea soup – fog so thick it had texture. We waited a while in the gift shop for it to clear. It threatened tauntingly to clear several times but then thickened again. I decided that it would be a mistake to tour this tourist site under these conditions – luckily, we hadn't paid any entrance fee so far and we still had tomorrow to try once again – so we left.

Don't ask me to explain how we ended up where we did next because there is a surreal element to it I feel must be attributed to a higher trip planner than myself. We were given literature at Katoomba touting other sights in the area. I called the truffle hunter, who advertised truffle hunting excursions with his trained dogs, but it was the wrong day of the week and we missed it. So we drove along some of the mountain roads in the area for the scenery, but when I saw Mount Wilson on a sign, I decided to turn toward it. Getting into the village of Mount Wilson required that I dodge tree-clearing crews, but I eventually reached a lane that I expected from the map would have a panoramic viewing point at its end.

It wasn't so.

I turned off the caravan to consult our literature and plan a new course when a woman appeared at her gate and asked if we wanted to see her garden. I quickly accepted the magnanimous offer. Razelle and I were shown around her grounds. She said she was 80 years old and had lived there about 35 years. During that time her husband and she had planted the most magnificent collection of ornamental shrubs and trees I'd seen in all of Australia. These included many plants I recognized from North America. They were just beginning to pop their winter buds – no foliage and no blooms yet, but I still easily recognized them as "good friends" from my life in America. It was nice to see how much effort this woman and her husband had invested in this lifetime project. 

Razelle didn't have the same level of interest in this sort of thing as I did, so she returned to the caravan. When we finished our tour of the plantation, this woman and Razelle conversed at length about their shared interests. It turned out that, like Razelle, she is a retired school teacher (of maths). Her accent betrayed her as a non-native of Australia. She said she was originally from Prague and that her father was Jewish. As a child she had been raised as a Jew. We were elated to learn this. We had met a "fellow traveler" in the most remote lane of the most remote village of the most isolated section of the Blue Mountains of Australia. Razelle and she exchanged stories of how each of their parents and fled Prague before the Nazi takeover of Czechoslovakia. We came away from this encounter with a sense that all the events of the day leading to it had been contrived for us for a purpose that we could not have seen in advance. Razelle handed her a souvenir of Israel and we exchanged contact information. We intend to keep in touch with her.

We returned to our caravan park afterwards and reflected upon the meaning of this day the rest of the evening.

Razelle didn't have the same level of interest in this sort of thing as I did, so she returned to the caravan. When we finished our tour of the plantation, this woman and Razelle conversed at length about their shared interests. It turned out that, like Razelle, she is a retired school teacher (of maths). Her accent betrayed her as a non-native of Australia. She said she was originally from Prague and that her father was Jewish. As a child she had been raised as a Jew. We were elated to learn this. We had met a "fellow traveler" in the most remote lane of the most remote village of the most isolated section of the Blue Mountains of Australia. 

Razelle and she exchanged stories of how each of their parents and fled Prague before the Nazi takeover of Czechoslovakia. We came away from this encounter with a sense that all the events of the day leading to it had been contrived for us for a purpose that we could not have seen in advance. Razelle handed her a souvenir of Israel and we exchanged contact information. We intend to keep in touch with her.

We returned to our caravan park afterwards and reflected upon the meaning of this day the rest of the evening.