Jellybean Pool, Blue Pool and Red Hands Cave travelogue

"Phew, I think I missed him," I breathed, as I tried to peer around the wing mirror and down at the road.

"Missed what?" my bewildered friend asked, clearly oblivious to my plight to avoid the stunning carpet python who decided that was the exact moment he ought to glide along in front of the car.

We crept out and got as close as we dared while the snake, unperturbed by the attention, made his way into the undergrowth.

We were in the Blue Mountains, having met up in Sydney after nearly a year apart, and I was dearly happy to see my friend.

We'd been close ever since we'd had classes together in our small-town high school in WA and this was one of many trips we'd managed to organise in the years since.

Jellybean Pool was our first stop, the water glistening gently in the sun as we made our way down the rocks.

Unfortunately neither of us had the foresight to bring bathers and I was preoccupied with whether my wholly unsuitable underwear would be worse viewed from the front or back.

Eventually I quickly slithered along the rocks and into the water anyway. It was deliciously serene and we floated around peacefully and listened to the quiet chatter of other visitors.

Catching up with my friend put me in a far more charitable mood than usual - even the quiet music playing nearby failed to irritate me the way it normally did - and we sat on the rocks in the sunshine and enjoyed the atmosphere in quiet contemplation.

Eventually we continued to Blue Pool and were soon granted the area entirely to ourselves.

We swam again and listened as water trickled down the rocks behind the ferns. It had sounded like a promising waterfall but the plants obscured the view, so we opted instead to enjoy the shade before a final dip in the water.

Our final stop was Red Hands Cave, which was a little off the beaten track through a winding gravel road between the trees.

We began down the path before stopping and staring at each other. The scent of honey was intense and we looked around wildly trying to locate the source.

We speculated which plant could possibly emit the scent and continued to the cave. Again we were granted it to ourselves as we took in the rock art from behind the barrier.

We continued along the trail for several hundred metres, stopping and sniffing each time we smelt honey.

We'd noted with some alarm that it had been an easy downhill the entire way - though of course, what goes down must also go up - and the track was failing to loop back towards the carpark and was instead resolutely headed further into the bush.

We were in no way equipped for a proper hike and agreed to turn back, cursing the uphill stretch which had been far more pleasant in the other direction.

It had been a perfect day, and we hopped in the car and chatted happily as we made our way back to Sydney in time for a show that night.