Australia...God, I can't begin to do it justice. Again I'm just flying through, doing the East Coast only, and that, only barely.
Was able to meet up with Tuey in Sydney and celebrate my 30th birthday with Matt & Justine. No earth-shattering revelations or epiphanous moments--just plain 30, no kids, no husband, no worries, mate!
Sydney was brief and fleeting--spent two nights with M & J before heading north to Byron Bay by Greyhound. 16 hours on the bus and a few hours of disco in Byron before getting on the Oz Experience bus for the duration of our journey.
Oz Experience...a backpackers bus complete with wacky bus drivers, loud music, and on one of our stretches, disco dancing in the aisles (of course I was involved in that one).
Now here's where we missed out...for the next four days we hit Noosa and Hervey Bay. I was wretching all night and day in Noosa for some still untold reason (too many hours on the bus?!), so we couldn't take surfing lessons or see Frasier Island. Hervey Bay, one night, don't even remember what was there. Dingo..we were supposed to go out and spend the night on this cattle station, have a "real" Oz experience with the kangaroos and dingos and boomerang-throwing, cow-whipping (for the dominatrix in you)--BUT, it was pouring rain and we heard the place was flooded, the bus before us was stuck in the mud there for two days. Ended up instead in a podunk town called Rockhampton, a night of youthful frenzy at the local Pizza Hut.
Finally arrived in Airlie Beach, a chance to spend a few nights and relax after day after day of long bus rides. In Airlie we took a day-long boat trip out to Whitehaven Beach in the Whitsunday Islands. Our boat "On the Edge" was a giant, $2,000,000 catamaran built for racing.
When we were nearing Whitehaven Beach there was this white, glowing strip on the horizon, amazingly fine, white, powdery sand, glistening in the sun. Tuey and I swam to shore from the boat and just laid around in the water--clear, aquamarine, with a clean sand bottom, no algae, coral, fish, nothing. At lunch back on the boat and that was it--our ONE activitiy in a week's worth of travelling! We've been really frustrated that we haven't had much opportunity to do anything, but he only had two weeks to travel, so here we are on the bus north again.
Australia's a big place, a REALLY big place. Between towns on the coast we just drive for hours without seeing any signs of life, no homes, shops, nothing. And I've yet to see a kangaroo or koala! Tuey saw one out the bus window and I saw a kangaroo road pizza, smooshed on the highway, but aside from that...Oh yeah, met some Aussie girls who demonstrated the offensive bellow of koala bears having sex--still waiting to see/hear that one (but if anyone wants a demonstration when I get home, I think I picked it up pretty well).
Saw some funky birds in Sydney, white, the size of a skinny goose, with these long black beaks--really long--protruding out 12" from their heads and forming a curved downward point--never figured out what they were, but am realizing that Australia has a lot of weird critters nobody else has. Other birds, lorikeets, bright green, royal blue, yellow and red, gathered for daily feeding at the place we stayed in Airlie. And at night the same trees rustled with the scavenging sounds of possoms, but really CUTE possoms, with sweet round brown eyes and pink noses, and pretty coats of fur. They just go about their business as you stand there looking up at them; occasionally they stop and look back.
But I'm still feeling like I'm not able to appreciate Australia enough. Haven't had time to learn much about the culture, and more particularly, the Aboriginese who, to me, have remained relatively "invisible"--in a way, I suppose that says a lot about the aboriginal existence in a white man's land.
1 November 1998...We got back on the bus the next day for our trip north to Townsville, where we caught the ferry over to Magnetic Island, named so because it screwed up Captain Cook's compass when he sailed by it. At Coconuts (backpackers resort) we stayed in these weird space shuttle-looking tents on stilts. Had a couple hours' hike to The Forts, built during WWII as lookouts for attack from the Japanese, though they didn't get further south than Papua New Guinea, just north of the northeast coast of Australia.
We were on the lookout for koalas, along with everyone else on the trails. I was wondering aloud if they were nocturnal, and one bushy Englishman (a la Grizzly Adams) replied, "Just bloody lazy, I think!" And when we finally spotted one, he appeared bloody lazy, cuddled up sleepily on a branch, but so damn cute!
I learned later that koalas are indeed nocturnal, but even then, pretty inactive. They sleep like 18 hours a day, and it's believed that because their diet is really low in protein and carbohydrates (they get most of their hydration and food from gum trees), they don't have much energy. They're actually marsupials, so apparently they have a pouch, like kangaroos, and when the baby's big enough it's carried around on the mother's back.
Found another koala further up at the peak--with views of the island and outlying reefs. Got up really close enough to take a million and one lazy koala photos--koala yawning, koala scratching, koala blinking in utter boredom at the camera-toting tourist. Movements so slow and unintentional, like they're on qualudes. But anyway, we were happy to have finally seen some before heading up to Cairns the next day.
MAJOR THRILLS IN CAIRNS! A 5-hour whitewater rafting trip down the Tully River, a level 4 (the highest) raft adventure that had us laughing and giggling and gushing all day--definitely the highlight of our trip, and lots of cool people in our boat. Ended up crashing, asleep at 8 p.m., missed Halloween and Tuey's last night in Australia completely. I woke up this a.m. and found him gone, flying back to Sydney and on to NY from there.
On my own again, bussed it up to Cape Tribulation (named on one of Captain Cook's many off days in this area; he also named local mountains Mt. Sorrow, Mt. Misery, etc.), staying at a backpackers jungle resort "where the rainforest meets the beach", and it's raining (story of my life), but no rain, no rainforest.
The Daintree rainforest is est. 120 million years old, oldest in the world, with lots of plant and animal life that hasn't survived elsewhere in the world. Some years ago, parts of it were parcelled off and sold, very cheaply, for residential development. Those who bought property and built homes in the rainforest were generally "preservers" of the forest, people who cared deeply about it. Locals and Daintree supporters are outraged at pending plans to provide grid electricity to the area, plus plans for 4,000 more residential properties. A buy-back plan is in effect, whereby many of the original purchasers of Daintree property have sold their land back to the government, and there's a big movement to get donations together to help the government buy back the land and keep it all preserved.
On the way up to Cape Trib we crossed a crocodile-infested river by ferry. Noted all the signs and verbal warnings not to go gallavanting in any of the local swamps and rivers--crocodiles are hungry.
Took a 3-hr. night walk through the rainforest, looking at "weird and wonderful" critters with a bushy-bearded, eco-zealous guide who pointed out all kinds of spiders and webs, a giant rat and lots of little ones, some exotic, multi-colored lizards (forest dragons) and sleeping birdies, and I think everyone was feeling a little disappointed until someone spotted a 2.5 metre python up on a wine. The forest is really alive at night, and esp. after the rain, things start movin' and shakin'. Sounds of cicadas and crickets and the green piping frog, which sits under a leaf to make his call echo loudly throughout the forest.
After we emerged we went down to a nearby estuary looking for crocodiles with our guide's giant floodlight beam across the water. Probably we all hoped to see one, but as it was dark and creepy nobody really wanted to walk last in our single file line either.
Yesterday morning I went on the Jungle Diver reef trip--boarded a boat with about 20 others and headed out to the Great Barrier Reef. The reef begins somewhere down around Rockhampton and extends north all the way to Papua New Guinea, some 2,000 km altogether. The reef is actually thousands of small reefs consisting of fringing reef (just off the land), and ribbon reefs, which at one time, prior to glacier melt, were actually fringing reefs--they're called "ribbon" reefs because when they're viewed from above they swirl and curl along.
The boat crew explained all our options--snorkelling, diving, etc.--and despite the fact I'd never had any intentions of diving in my live, the agent in Sydney made this introductory dive opportunity sound so good, I was booked and paid for without really knowing what was going on. Not to mention, I'd never even been snorkelling before, so this was another big day for me.
As soon as we got away from the mainland the clouds parted and the sun came out as we pulled up to Mackay Cay, a small sand island where birds and turtles nest, surrounded by reef. One of the girls on the boat, Marie, is in my dorm at the backpackers so she offered to take my hand and lead me around snorkelling. AMAZING to see the colors and activities of the world below, and I don't know why it's taken me so long to do it; just never got around to it I guess. Marie was a first-time diver as well, so we got in a group with an instructor named Peter (nicknamed The Beast because of excessive body hair). The intro dive consisted of explanations of the oxygen tank (and assurances that it won't run out during this 1/2 hour dive), how to use the regulator for breathing, what to do when water gets in your mask, how to move your legs with fins on and how not to touch or disturb the coral, how to signal okay, or not okay, how to laugh when you see something funny underwater (and get the water out of your mask and regulator afterwards)...
We got suited up in wetsuits, put on little booties and fins, strapped on weighted belts and inflatable vests holding our oxygen tanks, and finally the mask and regulator. For the first few minutes we just held onto the metal rungs behind the boat, barely submerged and just practiciing breathing. It's a weird sensation to get used to--breathing under water. You're supposed to put your lips around the mouthpiece and grip the little rubber bits inside with your teeth, then breathe fully and deeply and exhaling--which of course produces lots of bubbles shooting out around your face and ears.
Little by little he took us a little deeper, stopping for us to acclimate (wrong word, but something like it) our ears to the pressure, which can be done by holding your nose, closing your mouth, and filling your mouth with air to counteract the external pressure. Finally we moved off and away from the boat with peter holding both our hands, just drifting along checking things out. The perfect sand bottom made it seem like a giant swimming pool with coral and algae and fish thrown in.
Approached a giant clam and were allowed to touch its velvety insides, the touch triggering the clam to "clam up". Also held a sea cucumber, of which there are many variations, but this one was black and velvety (appropriately named "velvet sea cucumber") and all kinds of obscene insinuations from The Beast had us laughing hysterically into our regulators.
Another kind of creature, some kind of coral I think (and coral is, in fact, an animal), looks like a mound of sand, but as we kneeled around it, and Peter motioned his hand towards it, the mound imploded and sank down deep into the sand. Other types of coral responded similarly to tactile sensation, sucking in or disappearing when you put your finger near them. Other oddities, spiraly mounds of sand which are effectively sea cucumber turds, sand gets taken in one end and shoots out in a fine-line spray the other end.
And of course the fish...gorgeous colors highlighter by beams of sunlight in the water: parrotfish, angelfish, butterflyfish, sturgeonfish, and a big bonus, as we were curising along the reef, a giant green sea turtle poked its head out from under a bed of coral and, seeing us, pulled out slowly and swam away with the grace of a sea bird. We were the only ones on the boat to have seen it.
Had a good lunch and lots of midday sun on the boat before heading a little further out for more diving (at extra cost), or drift snorkelling. I went for the snorkel, where you just drift along the outer edges of the reef wall, which extends much deeper, and you really get an amazing view and sense of the complexities and interconnectedness of the reef. It was truly an exhilirating day--chalk one up on my new and exciting experiences list, rapidly growing on this trip.
By the time we were cruising back to Cape Trib, we got caught in a late-afternoon squall which rocked, rolled and bounced us all the way in (nauseating), and then we had to wait it out a bit before getting into the dinghy. It finally let up a little so two trips were made in the pouring rain and approaching lightning (eek) to get us back on shore.
Poured buckets of rain throughout the evening--spent under the eaves of the kitchen shelter playing cribbage with two Canadian girls who are taking a year-long sabbatical from the boredom of university life. Torrential downpours so heavy beating on the roof of our dorm I was awake several times during the night, and this a.m., still raining hard enough to make everything--other than more games of cards and crib--impossible. I've sold them on Leleuvia (Fiji) as they're planning to go to Fiji with the year (I should get commission on all the free and VERY enthusiastic PR I give that island!).
Oz afterthoughts from Bali...Cape Tribulation--proved to be just that. I came away from that place, and so did everyone else, with a smattering of little red welts all over my body: feet, ankles, backs of knees, wrists, arms, waist--SAND FLY BITES. Never even knew it was happening. Spent the last few days in Cairns with daily applications of anti-itch ointment, sharing/swapping horror stories with people, some mildly allergic to the bites (which I think I might be), fears of having permanent scarring, which I've also heard about. God, can you believe it? My first physical crisis (except the ten-hour puke session in Noosa), of all the things it could be. I wonder if I wouldn't prefer a good old case of traveller's diarrhea. You can spot all the backpackers who were up in Cape Trib--the little red welts give them away.
Those last few days back in Cairns I met up with a cool Japanese girl, Miwa, doing her own 22 year-old thing, lived in Oz for a year and now on her way home to japan. Lots of japanese practice for me, and we had a good time going discoing together.
I got to take a little trip out to Wild World for a day of koala cuddling, kangaroo-feeding (cute, but kind of bizarre creatures; lots of kangaroo shit everywhere and they get pretty aggressive when you've got a handful of kangaroo feed on you), wombat-petting (another weird and wonderful Australian critter), held a saltwater croc (three year-old named Fluffy with his jaw taped shut), finally saw a cassowary (another giant, flightless bird, native to northeast Queensland), dingos and snakes, and an Aboriginal culture show.
Talked to one of the performers afterwards, straightforward questions about modern-day Aboriginese, the inevitable urbanization of most, but the traditional practices of some who still live in the bush. Read a book on Aboriginal concepts and customs and found their culture to be extremely complex, but mostly what I got from it was their inextricable connection to the land. Traditionally, Aboriginese are named after the place of their conception, and when they are little they also take on the name of an animal with whose spirit they will always strongly identify (somewhat like Native Americans).
Just about every place, path, rock, mountain in Australia is mapped in Aboriginal myth, and even geological events/catastrophes which occurred long ago have been accounted for in oral tradition. The Aboriginese have an estimated 25,000 year history which seems in rapid decline because of their inability to adapt; adapting to white Australia, anyway, contributes to the decline of their own culture. But oddly, compared to other places I've been (i.e. New Zealand, the Maori people), I didn't find a lot of pride and preservation of aboriginal culture through dance, ceremony, etc., in order to educate the public and carry on the tradition.
But as the performer told me, "Many Aboriginese feel they would simply be 'on-stage' for the white man. Why should we perform for people? We know our culture and its meaning so we shouldn't have to perform it for entertainment." There seems to be great contempt (rightfully so) among many Aboriginese for white people, though there is also integration and harmony in many cases. Unfortunately I didn't learn as much about it as I would have liked to.
Oz photos! Koala cuddling... Furry wombat friend...