Friends will be waiting for us  at Oliver Lee State Park near Alamogordo, a camping site at the foothills of the Sacramento Mountains with long views west to White Sands National Monument where we plan  sunset hikes and if we stay into next week, a moonlit walk in the dunes.  We may take a day trip down to El Paso to Huevo Tanks, an area known for amazing pictographs.  Should be fun.

Pictures to follow.

Giant Saguaro at Usery Mountain, AZ

We decided to get out of town and head southwest to Arizona for the Christmas holidays. It would be warmer there and we would be surrounded by friends who were also escaping the winter in Santa Fe.

We camped at Usery Mountain Regional Park in Mesa, Arizona. The regional park is one of nine in Maricopa County and this one, Usery Mountain, is a treasure. Although we weren’t far from the high density Phoenix it was only at night that we knew the sprawling city loomed close when we could see flickering city lights off in the distance and counted all the planes stacked up as they flew into the Phoenix airport. At Usery Mountain we were surrounded by mountains, packs of coyotes, great horned owls,  a lwide variety of birds, and magnificent Saguaro Cactus.  Phoenix seemed a long way off.

We did make a couple of trips into Phoenix.  A Mexican restaurant beckoned and the Heard Museum had to be seen.  A stop in the shop at the Heard cost us big bucks.  The Museum itself is worth a half day trip to see the many amazing exhibits and especially the one we saw on the early Indian Schools and how white educators attempted to wash all culture out of Indian pupils, many of whom were there because they were stolen from their families and forced into an education system meant to obliterate them.  A powerful exhibit of a shameful era in American history.

Usery Mountain, AZ

View to Superstition Mountain, AZ

We stayed at Usery Mountain ten days and headed back to Santa Fe via the northern route up through breathtaking mountain passes to  I40 and then east to Albuquerque.  We made it in one long exhausting day of seven hours of driving.  Our friends all stayed behind for longer stays and we vowed that next year we would camp for a month in the area.

Shortly after our return home we would sell our recreational vehicle on Craigslist within a week of listing it on that site.  We vowed to wait out the summer before buying another larger rig.  But we waited a mere four weeks before we found what we wanted and Julie would return to Phoenix in February when she flew there and drove our new rig, a Phoenix Cruiser (apt for the location but no relation to the city),  back home.  We now have more space and plan on longer trips in 2010.

Thousands of people showed up for the tour but the long lines moved swiftly and we were inside in no time.  We were treated to an organ recital in the Concert Hall. The organ is the largest mechanical organ in the world with more than 10,300 pipes. Only 138 pipes were visible with the other 10,000 plus pipes hidden behind the organ.

The rain had begun when we left the Opera House and cranked up into a downpour within minutes of our leaving. We had hoped to get a ferry and hop between various stops but the heavy rain ruled that out. We headed for the bus but were stopped short under the bridge where another form of art, performance, was about to begin. A contortionist told us that she was about to turn herself into a living pretzel and would end by stuffing herself into a small box. Despite the torrential rain we very much wanted to see this woman stuff herself into a small box. So did hundreds of others. Our contortionist chose two hapless men from the audience, one of whom did not speak English, to assist her in the stuffing feat. She did it.

Julie wanted to go on to Coogee and swim in the Ocean pool there.  She had lived in Coogee 40 years ago and wanted to search out her old flat.  Paula chose to return to the hotel, put up her aching feet, ice her ankle and tuck into Steig Larrson’s third and final book, not available in the States until May of next year.  Bliss for both.

Julie did find her old house and she swam in the outdoor women’s pool at Coogee, a place she had not known of when she lived here.  She was thrilled!

At dinner later (excellent Vietnamese cuisine) we talked about our trip here.  I wondered if Julie had experienced everything she had wanted to in this return.  She was deeply saddened that she had not known of the death of her old friend, Eleanor, but was happy to hook up with Mark.  Seeing Kay was a highpoint of the trip.  And  for the most part she was pleased to be back and rediscover Sydney.  We agreed that had we to do it all over again we would have spent fewer days here and taken a three day trip down to Melbourne.  But “no worries” as they say here.  It has been quite a trip and more to come Sunday, our last full day here.

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The trip out of the City led to momentary brain static due to its similarity to taking Metro North through the south Bronx: graffiti, garbage, dreary housing, track rats.  And it didn’t pick up much for the rest of the journey.  The ride was tedious as it took us through layers of suburbs, some poor, others striving, immigrant communities, more middle class.

We saw a  very large roaring bush fire taking  over the sky to our south. Australia is suffering from a serious drought and a month ago a smothering red dust storm took over Sydney and went on to New Zealand.   It has rained once in our nearly eleven days here and the heat has already soared up into the 90s in some areas.  But the mountains loomed ahead at 3,000 feet.  If we had not been so body sore the hiking in the Blue Mountains would have been a delight.  There are 80 different trails in the World Heritage Site.  Julie did attempt one quick hike to see a series of cascades while Paula shopped in the delightful small town of Leura.  It was good to get out of the city.

The mountain region was beautiful and well worth the trip to get out of the city and all its density but it did not compare to what we are used to at home.  We are spoiled by outstanding natural beauty in the Southwest and West.

It was back on the train and the tedious suburbs.  Once in Sydney’s central train terminal we happened upon the subway that would take us straight to Kings Cross and we hopped on.  Then it was on to Japanese take out complimented by an excellent Aussie Merlot we picked up in Leura in the Blue Mountains.

It was helpful to sit around a dinner table with Aussies checking our impressions of Sydney.  Yes, they agreed, the architecture in the central business district is undistinguished and that American cities like Chicago or Denver or New York far outweigh Sydney in terms of innovative architectural design.  The upside is that few cities in the world sit in a  location as stunning as Sydney.

Yes, prostitution is legal as is needle exchange and supervised heroin shooting galleries.  Australian politicians, to their great credit, have approached these issues from a public health perspective rather than a moral one.  And church and state do not intermingle here although our dinner companions have noticed a disconcerting shift in politicians making sure they are seen entering and leaving churches.  “Family Values” is not a political tool used to undermine political foes.  Oh, and Australia has Medicare for all.  America is so conservative and religious compared to  Australia that  the right-wing in the States would, in their profound ignorance, call Australia socialist.

Australia has not suffered a recession and their  economy is booming. This vast country of a mere 20 million people — the only continent that is a country –  sits on huge quantities of untapped natural resources.  A headline in yesterday’s paper states that Sydney will jump from 4.4 million to 10 million by 2040.  Well, why not come here:  the food is excellent, the wine superb, the beaches amazing, the people unfailingly polite, and the sun shines most of the year.  And Rupert Murdoch doesn’t live here anymore.

Rupert Murdoch, an Aussie, and others are allowed one newspaper and one broadcast station here, nothing more.  In the states, Murdoch et al can own as much media as they want and can, therefore, manipulate, public opinion as much as they want.  Fox News along with Beck, O’Reilly, Van Sustren and Hannity are seen here on cable.   What must Australians think of us if they watch Fox News?  Perhaps some of them are smart enough to watch The News Hour which is on every night at five or listen to All Things Considered on the radio.

Our dinner companions acknowledged that tear downs were prevalent in the 60s and 70s in some neighborhoods and that accounts for the  rather awful infill that sticks out like a festering wound.  We do like Paddington (which escaped a total tear down), Surry Hills, Potts Point and Darlinghurst but feel far too much has been made of Oxford Street, once the main Gay drag and just a jumble of tacky shops going on for blocks on end.  We learned that Lebanese drug dealers have pretty much taken over there.

Discussion of Aborigines seems fraught with land mines.  Opening the issue of race  up seems to lead to comments that remind us of the welfare queen era back at home.  We would rather not go there.

There is a rough and tumble aspect  to Sydney that I didn’t expect.  Everything is built for a water view and this makes for a jumble of competing building heights and designs.  Older buildings here are smaller and gracious.  Newer ones — from the 60s on — can be downright awful or resemble the better buildings on Miami Beach.  I had wanted to get down to Melbourne, a much more English looking city, but time was taken up with other things.

We are starting to wind down and wrap up.  Tomorrow is a scheduled trip to the Blue Mountains and a weekend packed with festivities.

The Opera House has a number of theaters within it and we had the good fortune of seeing Yasmina Reza’s God of Carnage play in one of them to a packed house.  Paula had seen the play in New York in May but Julie and Kay had not had a chance to see it. The play was produced by the Sydney Theater Company ( Kate Blanchett  is the company’s artistic director.  She is currently here playing Blanche Dubois in Streetcar … to rave reviews).   The cast of God of Carnage was outstanding.  As we were leaving a man said to Paula “did you understand the play?” and she reported that it was about adults behaving badly and she had seen it first in New York and now here.  He replied he found that more interesting than the play and wondered aloud about what the playwright could have been thinking.  Paula looked at his companion and it was Yasmina Reza.  Clearly he was needling her.  Smiles all around and we were off.

Manly has a long walking mall down to the beach on the Ocean.  The mall is not unlike Lincoln Road on South Beach on Miami Beach before gentrification.  Tacky shops and fast food lead down to a beautiful beach on the Pacific.  Julie took off her shoes and waded in.  Paula fell in love with an Australian Bulldog puppy named Pillow and was diverted from the beautiful scenery before her.

From Manly we returned to Kings Cross/Potts Point in search of a pub and a pint.  Kings Cross artists have covered trees there in knitting as part of October’s focus on the arts in many neighborhoods (suburbs to Aussies).

Kings Cross is known as Sydney’s “red light district” and there are  some blocks where prostitutes are obvious and “private clubs” abound.  But for the most part the Cross is a  neighborhood with mixed commercial areas, quiet streets, and upscale shops.

Julie’s old friend of 44 years arrived.  Kay is a warm and engaging woman who flew in from Perth to see Julie and meet Paula.  Julie and Kay last saw one another 20 years ago but didn’t miss a beat in sitting down to plan Kay’s trip to the States next year.

After catch up the three of us took off to do the 4K Bondi Beach to Bronte walk along the coast.  What a glorious walk and a mere half hour from the city!  We were going to press on to Coogee where Julie lived 40 years ago but ankles had given out, shins were screaming,  butts hurt, and sunburns were tender.

Julie had not seen Mark since he and his wife, Eleanor, had visited us in Brooklyn eighteen years ago.   Eleanor had died five years ago and he has been afflicted with a terrible cancer that affects his speech.  Nonetheless, Mark was endearing and fabulously funny and we enjoyed our brief visit with him.  We will see him again next week when he has other friends over with us for dinner.

Then we were off to retrace Julie’s days as a bus conductress when she lived in Sydney.  We jumped on a bus to Watson’s Bay and climbed out of Sydney towards the South Head where the Ocean and the harbor meet.  It was quite a climb up and up through increasingly pricey neighborhoods with gazillion dollar views.

And, thank God the fish house Julie  ate in 40 years ago was still there!  Mind you, the prices had zoomed hundredfold since she ate there last but the site and views were still for free.