Mount Wilson


I didn’t take as many photos of Mount Wilson as I would have liked to: it was raining, and I was mostly driving. We saw Withycombe, which was built by Patrick White’s parents, and many beautiful autumn trees. I have hardly been anywhere in the Mountains away from the highway – the Zig Zag Railway once when I was a child is about it – so I was most impressed by the scenery from the Bells Line of Road. And at Bilpin we found some lemon melon spread.

The previous evening we had a civilised afternoon at friends of C’s at Katoomba. We tried to get a drink in the Carrington but it was too crowded because of a wedding reception; the faces of the older male guests, set against with the faded colonial gilt of the hotel, were putting me in mind of The Tree of Man, but more on that when I’ve finished it. Then we paid café prices for a delicious restaurant meal (kangaroo saltimbocca, veal scallopini) at Zuppa.

I also got a copy of R A Lafferty’s Nine Hundred Grandmothers in Chekov’s Three Sisters; but more on that when I’ve finished it.


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