Jenolan Caves

Yesterday, Saturday, my best friend (let’s call her Al - though she hates that) and I went on an adventure.

It’s far from the first adventure that we’ve had together in the 10 years that we’ve known each other, and it will be far from the last. It is though the first in a while, and certainly the closest to home. 

Al and I drove up to the Jenolan Caves, west of Sydney in the Blue Mountains, to see the caves. They’d never really been so much on our radar or a destination we’d been dying to go to, but a popular podcast I listened to (All Aussie Mystery Hour) mentioned it. Another friend of mine went last year and it seemed like something fun to do that spoke to our adventurous, archaeologist sides. 

I picked Al up first thing in the morning and we stopped for coffee and muffins on the way, making it to Katoomba by around 10. Though Al had packed for a pilgrimage with more snacks and water than we could possibly have needed for the day trip, we ventured into Woolworths for some lunch supplies. I decided on a sandwich for the adventure but was swayed into buying a loaf (for lack of a better description) of brioche hot cross buns. The friendly neighbourhood self-serve check out attendant suggested that everyone needs hot cross buns because ‘Jesus died on the cross so we could eat them’. Technically, he’s not wrong. Cue the Jesus Christ Superstar singalong in the car shortly after. 

If I die what would be my reward?

We arrived at the caves as planned with plenty of time before our tour and embarked on a relatively short bush walk along the Blue Lake into the bush. The Blue Lake is a man-made lake and dam that takes its name from the beautiful blue colour it adopts from the limestone and minerals it contains. I looked for the Platpus (es? Platipi?) that we’re supposed to inhabit the water but I couldn’t see any of them to my disappointment. 

We made it to the end of the track, across a variety of rickety bridges, creeks and staircases, had lunch by a waterfall and head back. It was really tranquil - out in the wilderness with Al and no phone signal. So far away from the things that bothered me.

The cave was another thing entirely however. Let me explain.

Al and I had thought about the cave tour we’d wanted to do and eventually came to the agreement that the Imperial Diamond cave, as one of the longer tours with the most to see, was the one to go for. Waiting for the tour though there was a suspicious amount of children under 5 around us.

It wasn’t typical, but there seemed to be a rather large tourist group travelling together all with children under 5. I’m not sure where they were from - Al thought perhaps Belgium or France, but I thought Germany or somewhere Eastern European. Neither of us understood whatever language it was they that spoke. There was one Australian man amongst them, the father of one of what was at least 3 families, and he certainly seemed to be the most apologetic. 

Within a very short amount of time, and before we’d even entered the cave, the kids started to turn into demons. The older ones constantly chattered, the younger ones screamed and cried. When we did enter the cave we’d barely made it to the first chamber before our lovely tour guide started to become visibly irritated. Hats off to her, she was subtlety snarky as hell but never actually actively snapped. 

I’d probably have booted them into the underground river. Just kidding...

As we got deeper and deeper into the cave though I could tell that the other members of our tour, our tour guide and even the parents started to get more and more frustrated. The dads began to retreat with the infants to the fringes of the group, the mobile kids paired up and wandered around our legs like cats and the mums seemed to take on the personas of wax figures. Obviously bothered but like they refused to admit it. Our tour guide continued to up the ante in snark. 

“I should double my birth control”, I whispered to Al.

“I don’t think that makes a difference”, she murmured back, and held me. 

By the time we reached the Diamond Cave at the very rear no one seemed to be all too impressed by the stalactites or stalagmites anymore no matter how large. Al and I, after travelling together for many years, have a fluid way of taking photos on the run and managed to snap and bail pretty quickly through the chambers. We had a lovely few minutes of solace in the Selena Cave before the hoard caught up to us. 

If Australians were a tipping culture we’d have tipped the tour guide big. Though she never said so, the looks she sent our way told us we felt her pain. When the tour finally concluded and she was waving us off one of the gremlins piped up to announce he was able to be the leader. She looked at him and the dark carvern he’d have to head through and I swear she wanted to tell him to go on then, in front of his parents, but fake laughed it off. He turned it on Al and I, Al laughed and I just awkward backstepped away and maintained eye contact with his equally pained father. Ironically, the kid’s shirt read ‘my dad taught me everything I know’. I’m sure it wasn’t quite as complimentary by the end of the day. 

We bolted from the cave at the end of the tour and back in the sunlight we just looked at each other and laughed. 

“We agreed on a name”, she said. It was a good name, she chose. 

But not today, Satan. 

Together, without progeny, we happily headed back to the car and head back down the mountains towards Sydney. 

Sam xox