|
|
Australia
Dear Mom & Dad,
I know I haven't written in a while, so I'm sure the speculation of my travel in Australia has been greatly exaggerated. Right from the start I would like to diminish some of your worries.
1. The next time you see me, the bleached blond hair will have grown out.
2. The sun exposure to my baby-skin buttocks was very brief during Australia's Annual Nudist Festival.
3. The wild dingoes rumored to steal babies were only successful in running off with a sleeping bag.
4. No one, male or female, hit on me during the Annual Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Parade. Even if a girl did hit on me, it was common practice on that day to squint your eyes with concentration while looking for an Adam's apple.
So, hopefully, I've eased some of your worries, and you can read the rest ofthis letter with a sigh of relief. Feb. 22, 1999, I landed in Melbourne, Australia, welcomed not by a single kangaroo, but instead by a customs agent asking, "What are you doing in Australia?" "Vacation," I responded. "Where are you going in Australia?""Up the East Coast," I responded. Again he says, "What are you doing inAustralia?" I respond again, "Vacation." "What are you doing on your vacation?" Finally, quick thinking led me to say "Nothing." He let me through. It seemed like I answered correctly-nothing. I'm actually surprised a country like Australia could be productive in anything. I venture to guess that 99.9% of the population in Australia live near a beach or the ocean with a climate better than Florida. People actually move to Florida to do nothing, so just imagine if our whole country lived that way. The beach is such an essential part of an Australian's life that the government invented a paper money that is indestructible to sand and sea! You can't tear the money and if you happen to go swimming in the ocean with a handful of cash, there is a good chance you could use it as a floatation device. So my mission, as set forth by the question of the customs agent, was to do nothing while spending five weeks making my way up the East Coast of Australia.
Melbourne is the city of..... Petah Gibbs, a friend of mine I met years ago. It seemed only like yesterday since that last time I met with Petah. I think such a good friend would be ready to open his arms and home to me. He did, even though I quickly learned that nine years had passed since our last encounter. OK, I felt a little guilty now, but he still gave me a place to stay. Melbourne the city of.... Sport ... even though I could easily classify it as the city of Mass Transit.(Unbelievable ease to move around in the city and suburbs) I could classify it as the soon-to-be city of the world's tallest skyscraper. But, for now, it is the center of sports for Australia. Sure, Sydney will be hosting the Summer Olympics in 2000 (just a little fact-the Summer Olympics will actually be held during Sydney's winter) but Melbourne has already held that honor in 1956. So while in the city of sport what do you do? What better way to spend an evening than watching a sport that is foreign to you-Australian Rules Football (this has to be the only sport in the world with the word rules in its title) Like any other foreign sport, it seems to have no reason behind the actions. They run with the ball, bounce it, kick it, punch it, and like all good sports, try to punish the guy that has the ball! Sure, there is more to it than that, but after asking your friend a thousand questions, who can blame him for saying, "Just watch the game." Ignorance is bliss whenever you experience something for the first time. Heck, I'm confused about certain details of American football, but that doesn't take away from what I personally see as the greatness of the game.
Heading north, I arrived in Sydney, the largest city in Australia, but not the capital of Australia. I passed through the capital, Canberra, in the wee hours of the morning during my 14-hour bus trip to Sydney. OK, quick fact information here- Australia is about the same size as the United States lower 48, with about 17.9 million residents compared to the States 260 million, 22% of the residents not natively born. Australia, as a country, is even younger than the United States. The Commonwealth of Australia was established on January 1, 1901.
The morning I arrived, the city was in a frenzy preparing for the annual Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Parade. Half a million people were arriving with the understanding that to get a good view of the parade, one would have to line the route 6 hours before it started. I stood, I waited, I bought a milk crate and stood taller and waited longer. Without going into very much detail, the women looked better that the men. (Even though the women were men and the men were women.) Sequin and feathers could be found on the best of costumes while leather seemed to be the default dress code. The parade raged on for hours. Then the party took over the streets until morning. By the close of my first night in Sydney, I knew the rest of my stay would have a hard time competing with this and my dropped-jaw reaction! Sure enough, Sydney seemed to go gray for the rest of my stay until that final day. My last evening in Sydney, I walked to the part of the city where the most recognizable symbol of Australia stands. The Sydney Opera House, second only to the kangaroo, is what most people picture in their mind when you ask them about Australia. If it's not burnt into your mind yet, just wait. You are going to get hit with a 2000 Olympics campaign centered on the imagery of the Opera House. Even their Olympic Torch is modeled after the sail like architecture of the Opera House. That evening, people ran up the steps to catch an evening concertas the sun set slowly, providing a backdrop to enhance the view of the sea.
Several hours north of Sydney is a small town called Byron Bay. The town easily gets the thumbs up as the best town in Australia. Growth seems to be kept at a minimum while the quality of life is lived at a maximum. Byron Bay has a reputation of being a hippie town, which seems currently to be one of the best measurements a traveler should use when deciding to visit a place. Hippies usually are looking for a laid back atmosphere with a very strong Natural Beauty. The point at which a small town turns from quaint to commercialized is the point at which the hippie moves on in search of the next undiscovered gem of a town. Onward upward I left Byron Bay wishing I had stayed. Better to leave wishing for more than to stay asking what for.
Traveling in Australia you expect a few things. People to say "Good day mate," the opportunity to throw a boomerang, a dinner where you throw a shrimp on the barbie, and an opportunity to wrestle the menacing Tasmanian Devil or at least see a kangaroo.
They do say "G'day mate." I had an Aborigine teach me how to throw a boomerang, They don't throw shrimp on the barbie. They through prawns on the barbie. A Tasmanian devil is about the size of a raccoon, not much of a menace. A kangaroo can easily be seen grazing on the side of the road or like most raccoons in the US, lying dead from wrestling with a car on the highway. Kangaroo crossing is a legitimate sign not just a tourist souvenir. When I was in Brisbane, I passed through the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary, where you can pet a koala and feed a kangaroo. Kangaroo are pretty impressive, ranging from knee high to head high, with some being able to hop up to 27 feet in distance.
On to Noosa, where I hiked through the Noosa National Park following the coast around to a secluded bay. Well, the people I spoke with said it was secluded. Somehow I ended up in the middle of the 400 partici-pant-less in the Australian Nudist Festival. A one-day-a-year festival where people come together to compete in such games as tug-of-war and running races (they did say the running races where going to be short distance races for the sake of safety and good taste). So trying to live by the saying "While in Rome do as the Romans do," I went a roaming! You would think one would worry about not having clothes on, but I was more concerned with the idea of sun exposure (or the lack of) on my buttocks. I couldn't help but think how my baby-white bum would stand out like a sore thumb. I'll admit, I didn't go strolling the beach casually chatting in my birthday suit. Instead, I had my own race into the ocean, where the water was at least waist deep. When I left the beach that day, my cheeks where a little rosier. Not the cheeks below my waist, but the ones on my face from the ever-present grin of participating in the Annual Nudist Festival in Noosa, Australia.
In Hervey Bay, (pronounced Har-vee) I hooked up with a group of seven others-my camping partners for three days on the world's largest sand island, Fraser Island. As a trip, Fraser has to be one of the coolest places to visit, whereas the Great Barrier Reef is the coolest to experience. Fraser Island is accessible only by 4x4 vehicles and its main road, actually classified as a national highway, is the eastern beach of the island. Unfortunately, the road is passable only during the low tide. The island is inhabited by dingoes, brumbies (wild horses) and encircled by a large population of tiger sharks. Crystal clear, freshwater lakes with blinding white sandy beaches are scattered throughout the island. Lake Wabby, the most fascinating of the lakes is slowly being engulfed by a massive sand dune. Our first night on the island ended when someone shined a light on a dingo slowly circling us. We heard the reports about the record number of tourist attacked by dingoes that year on the island. So, with the utmost respect for their viciousness, our group started howling at the dog, singing "Dingo was his name oh, D-I-N-G-0 DINGO and Dingo was his name oh."
Since leaving Noosa, every town north advises against swimming in the ocean. Airlee Beach, my next stop, has a serious box jelly fish problem which packs a sting capable of killing. Unfortunately, I was there during the peak season of jellyfish. Fortunately, Airlee Beach is used as a jump off point for sailing the Whitsunday Islands or as a point to head out to the Great Barrier Reef for diving. I did the 3 day, 3 night, 10 dive package.
The Great Barrier Reef is the world's largest reef, running more than 2000 km (1242 miles) and is easily one of the world's most renowned dive sites. Remember when I said that ignorance is bliss? That is essentially how I went into diving the reef. Ignorant about the sea life and coral coating the ocean floor. It was bliss floating around in a foreign world with you senses overloaded. But to sustain enjoyment over 10 dives, I needed to become a little educated. I learned about a fish that eats coral and dumps a load of sand as its waste. (That beautiful white sand beaches we enjoy is nothing more than fish pooh) There is a fish that covers itself in a mucous sleeping bag at night to cover up its smell so it won't get eaten while it sleeps. Buried in the sand, one diver found a cone shell on of the deadliest of the sea creatures. If you touch the shell, it will release a spear as protection, killing whatever it comes in contact with. The spear is said to hold enough poison to kill 60 adults with just a scratch from the spear. What am I saying ignorance was bliss? Now I'm beginning to learn about the dangers lurking in the ocean environment. On the final day of diving, I navigated through overhangs and smaller swim-throughs, kind of enjoying myself in the underwater playground, when I decided to enter a small-enclosed overhang. OK, if I was this great adventurous traveler, I would have come face to face with a killer shark. But myself being a novice at this, I came face to face with a giant.... (Uneducated guess here on the type of fish) guppy! A guppy big enough to garner respect from me, though, especially when the diver couldn't easily turn around. No worries mate, I won that one after the huge…I'm not lying… huge guppy turned tail and ran…uh, swam. So now here I am back on land sitting in Cairns (pronounced Canns) awaiting my flight to Bali, Indonesia. A couple of days on my hands, I finished out my Australian journey learning a little Aboriginal technique on throwing a boomerang and spears. Walking up to one of the Aboriginal instructors covered in the traditional paint and a feather with a human hair skirt around his waist, he welcomed me with a "G'day Mate." Asking where I was from, I responded "Kentucky" awaiting the Kentucky Fried Chicken response. He began to sing "Kentucky Woman." Then asked me who sang that song. I was at a loss for words.
So Mom and Dad, sorry about the length, I'll try to do better the next time. Oh yeah, I forgot about the hair thing. It seemed like I was the only non-blond bum on the beach, so, what the heck, I tried a little of the Clairol Born Blond Highlighting. Well, blond would be a nice word for the yellow glow of my hair. Who knows? Maybe next time on a secluded beach, I won't worry about being so white, since my hair will be several shades brighter.
Love ya and G'day to ya mate.
Jonathan Adams
|
|
