The plane landed in Denpasar and no sooner had I reached the door of the plane then I had plenty of olfactory evidence of such. The air was warm, humid, and the slightest hint of incense, explained by a small series of statues (a shrine, I suppose) I walked by on my way through. I waited for my backpack to come around on the conveyor and when it did, two airport officials came up to check that I had taken a bag that belonged to me. Then they walked me with my bags to a customs officer where I was zipped through quite quickly. They picked up my bags and followed me to the money change, and it was here I realized they weren’t airport security. I laughed to myself that I had been scammed right off the boat so I gave them a tip (definitely NOT the amount they suggested) and went on my way. Aside from this, customs was pretty straightforward, certainly no need to worry about proving a date and means of departure. My hotel was supposed to send someone to collect me but that didn’t happen and I wound up taking a taxi. Apparently, STA Travel didn’t bother to forward the details of my flight to them. Good old travel agents. And then I was there, past bikes and buildings, all low-rise and with Asian roofing, at Bakung Sari hotel.
The hotel is definitely not what I had in mind (thanks again, STA Travel). It’s nice enough, but pricey compared to what else is around, a fair walk from the main area, and full of old people and couples, not much on the single traveler scene. So, after settling in and hiding my various valuables in stashes around the room and in the lobby safe, I was walking the streets trying to find the beach and check out the place, armed only with my Lonely Planet map, which is a dubious proposition at best. I did find the beach in south Kuta to be pretty poor but you could see further along in Kuta, Legian, and Seminyak where the beach was nicer. Eventually, after a bunch of walking I was getting hungry and looking for somewhere to eat. I wound up chatting with and asking a local guy where exactly I was along the street since streets are just simply not labeled here. How a person would navigate themselves is beyond me but I digress. He was quite friendly as most Balinese people seem to be and pointed me along the way. We chatted some more and he offered to show me where one of his favourite places was. I decided to risk the journey as he seemed quite harmless, plus I didn’t have any valuables on me, so I gave it a whirl.
We drove around the nutty streets on his scooter and grabbed lunch and then went into Denpasar away from the tourists, I got myself a SIM card for my phone in Indonesia, a few power adapters from a big western-style mall, and spent a fairly aimless day all told. We swung by his place, which was nicer than I expected to be honest, and I met some of his friends who were pretty interesting and friendly too. We had some more Indonesian food and Jerry dropped me back at my hotel. The next day, we drove out to the temple of Tanah Lot, which was great. It’s pretty busy here in Kuta and it was nice to get out of the city, though the whole way along was strewn with small shops, statue makers, and so on, traffic was nice and light, and there still were rice paddies and beautiful scenery abound.
The temple itself was beautiful. Situated right on the ocean, it is a dramatic setting on an outcropping of rock. At the base of the rock, submerged when we arrived, is a holy place where, at low tide, the water receded just enough to allow a thin line of people to go and be blessed. We hung around the area, had lunch, and admired the temple as the tide dropped, and then went to have a closer look. I didn’t get blessed as I felt this wouldn’t really be respectful since I not only had no idea what was exactly going on but obviously I don’t share their religion. Still, it was interesting to observe and while doing so, a young boy got his photo taken with me. Jerry told me this is sort of a status symbol – having photos with westerners – when you’re young and in school. And, he didn’t have to say, before you’ve grown up and are quite tired of them.
On the way back, Jerry let me drive the bike a bit. It is a little hectic, I have to say, and I’d want more practice before attempting to drive in a city. We turned around in front of a rural school that was just letting out and the kids were all talking about seeing a ‘westerner’. I think Jerry was as amused as I was, to be honest as he would make a point of getting their attention. We passed still more of them cycling home and they too were talking and waving, so I got my camera out which prompted them to all but leap from their bikes cheering. They didn’t know it, but they made a great photo. We took a side road through a small town which was interesting, too – people working in fields, wandering around with baskets on their heads, and one older woman doing so without a shirt on. Back in town, Jerry dropped me off at the hotel and I was chatting with a man offering his driving services for the day (sometimes it’s fun just to chat with them, and I am looking at some way of getting around the island). As I was chatting, a lone English girl walked out of the hotel and smiled, thinking I was being harassed. She walked back again with a sprite in hand just as we were finishing up and I chatted a bit with her, too, being that she was the only other solo traveler I’d thus far encountered.
We were considering going out that night, though I fell asleep early, Jerry’s phone call woke me up and he was about 5 minutes from the hotel to hit the town. So Jerry and I went out to a club – the bike doesn’t fit three and Michelle didn’t reply to my text anyway – whose name I can’t recall and had a fun time. The drinks here are potent. I started with a beer and since everyone else was happy enough having cocktails, I took my chances with the ice and had a few as well. All I can say is that I had a few too many. I don’t know how much alcohol they put in one, and to be honest I doubt they know themselves, but they were strong and so I spent pretty much all of Wednesday (my third day in Bali) lazing around and reading. In fact, I left the room twice: once to meet Michelle for breakfast, and once to grab some sprite (no gingerale here) and snacks to try and keep down. I’m surprised I got that sick from it, to be honest.
I spent the next day wandering around and made it as far as Legian before doubling back on the beach. I was supposed to meet up with Michelle and Jerry that night but my phone went haywire and would only say ‘unknown recipient’ when I tried to SMS. I figured out the day after, when my phone still wasn’t working, that it was due to low credit – 300 Rp to be exact (this is equal to 3 cents). So I topped that up and got a hold of Jerry and Michelle – oh, strange coincidence, eh? – and met up with Jerry first. I thought he said something about getting out of Denpasar but instead we wound up going shopping for him. All day. Woo. I have never seen anyone shop more for less, and it’s not even that he’s shopping, per se, but rather loitering around various areas of interest for far too long. An electronics expo, several mobile phone stores, and then a clothing store. The only saving grace is these were local stores and not tourist ones so I got to see how things really work when you live here, or at least I think I did. I left him around 6 and met up with Michelle for dinner at 7, whereupon we agreed to hire a car and driver for the following day and go check out Gunung (Volcano) Batur. Then we had a few local beers and went and packed – she had to change rooms and I was going to grab a hotel in Ubud for a few nights.
The next day, Nyoman – a tour operator I’d haggled with on the street the day prior – picked me and my things up at my hotel at 10 AM sharp. For $15 we had him and his car at our disposal for nine hours, including fuel. We picked up Michelle at her hotel then drove up to Ubud where I moved to the Sadru House Hotel. The room was a pretty reasonably priced 70,000 Rp ($7/night) including breakfast. That sorted, we ventured north. Our guide stopped at Tanallalang for some incredible rice terraces. I now have no need to go to China. Well, okay, not really, but they were every bit as beautiful as anything I’ve ever imagined. A little further up the road, a temple tucked into the hillside and forest. In fact, I do believe it was a temple to water; the holy water here is said to purify and cleanse, and it runs off one mountain spring that they’ve tapped and made into umpteen layers of fountains and pools.
Finally, our intended destination for the day, the volcano of Gunung (volcano) Batur. From our vantage point, we had Batur on the horizon, the entire rim of the caldera, and on one part of that rim, Gunung Agung, the tallest mountain of Bali. It was a beautiful sight and well worth the trip up. We had a rather pricey lunch by Bali-standards but, again, worth it for the spectacular view of the caldera valley and the two volcanoes. The all you can eat buffet was less spectacular, but it definitely filled an empty spot or two in my Bali… err… belly. I thought we might as well stop at the base of the volcano for a look around and wound up arguing with Nyoman as a result – he obviously wanted to get us back quickly but we had plenty of time left on our nine hours and why not? Finally he gave in and took us to the bottom and a little village on the lake. I thought we’d get up to the recent lava flow but sadly not. Descending from the crater rim we went into deep cloud, and very soon, heavy, heavy rain. The amount of water I saw fall in this short span of time was more than I saw fall in my whole stay in Australia. But, owing to the inflation of the tires, we somehow floated our way back down to my hotel in Ubud where I parted ways with the now pouting Nyoman and Michelle and went to sleep.
My first full day in Ubud was pretty quiet. I wandered around the town for a very short while before the rain started in earnest and went back to the hotel to sit on my porch and read. It’s pretty consistent apparently, and petered out a little after three. I picked up a ticket to some Balinese dancing that night, and made my way to the temple where the show was held at about 7:00. The dance was a telling of the story of Ramayana, a rather complicated story of a prince and princess who are first banished and then the princess is preyed upon and kidnapped by a scheming god and then from another and then at last freed with some other gods’ intervention. It was interesting but, maybe due to the rather rhythmic chanting of all the men arranged in a circle around the main area, rather sleep-inducing as well. The second dance, of sorts, was really more of a “walking on hot coals” sort of affair. It seemed pretty hot as far as I was concerned, but he kept coming back and walking and kicking coals everywhere. I wanted to meet a few other backpackers, so I went down to Putra bar after the show and discovered not a soul to be found.
The next day, I did run into a backpacker – in fact, a backpacker I’d traveled with from Broome to Perth: Kenji. It is a bit of a surprise to say the least to be walking down the street and pass someone shouting “Ohhhhh!” as though a mortal wound had been dealt and staring directly at you. I mean, they try all sorts of tactics to get your attention here and get you talking. “Transport?” “informations?” “Hello, where you from?” “Hey, I remember I give you discount yesterday!” and so on. I’ve never had anyone just come up to me and cry out a half-grunt half-exclamation. I was intrigued and, I admit, didn’t recognize Kenji right away. Anyway, we chatted for a while and may again run across each other in Thailand. We said hello, goodbye, and see you later, then I took a walk into the monkey forest south of town and, by putting a banana peel on my shoulder, managed to get a monkey to climb up there while I took a self-portrait shot. It’s pretty cool to just walk around with monkeys scampering everywhere. They’re clever too, they’ll try to fish out anything from bags or investigate bulges in pockets. I saw one guy have his backpack unzipped. Clever!
I sat and watched a reggae cover band at Putra Bar later that evening and returned home to pack my bags. I was off to Lovina in the northern part of Bali the next day (parting ways with 220k Rp / $22), but we made two stops en route: the temple on the lake at Bedugul (Ulun Danu) and then Git Git falls further down the road. I was definitely excited to see the temple and was not disappointed upon my arrival. It is set on an immaculately landscapes grounds on the lakeside and the temple itself sits on small islands just off the shore, inaccessible but by boat. As I arrived a ceremony was just wrapping up, so the temple was swarming not with tourists but with locals in ceremonial dress. More and more of this in Bali as we draw closer to Nyepi. As always, the kids were excited to have their photos taken and it was really pleasant to mill about with everyone and observe.
The next stop was Gitgit, as foreshadowed, and while I wasn’t too interested in stopping here, it was on the way. I was pleasantly surprised to find a pristine waterfall, or rather, several of them, and some great swimming locales that I, unfortunately, wasn’t prepared for. I did run into a Canadian while near the base of one of the larger falls who was, however, and he asked me to take his photo jumping, which didn’t seem the best advised idea but hey, maybe I go home with an extra camera. Truth be told, I might’ve considered doing just that had I come equipped. Still, he almost slipped on a slippery rock face down into the water below and it probably wouldn’t have ended well for him, but thankfully he recovered. Then he crossed and jumped successfully from the other side. A few more photos further upstream at some twin falls and I was soon in Lovina, enjoying what was a beautiful drive down the mountain slopes to the north coast.
The next two days in Lovina were the first time I felt on vacation and not just backpacking or trekking. I sat by the pool as it was too hot and humid for anything else, went for a nice and cheap dinner, and met a couple Dutch girls I had a few drinks with. The town is very, very quiet which is also a relief, it’s obviously their low season, and very friendly. Even the tourists say hi to each other, there are so few here. I’ve made friends with a few other Dutch, German, and a Canadian and we all went for a pizza last night then some drinks on the beach where I tried Arak (tastes like tequila), played some cards and spent more time by the pool and exploring what little there is to explore in Lovina. At the moment, I’m sitting in the hotel restaurant, my first anti-malarial pill sitting uncomfortably in my stomach, the rain relenting slightly as the town prepares for the big burning festival tonight, where they light effigies of evil spirits to keep them off the island and then spend the next day completely motionless. Everything is closed and leaving home is not allowed, in the hopes that the spirits will bypass the island, thinking it empty. By the time this happens, I will be in Java, I’m on a bus in half an hour traveling to Gilimanuk for a ferry across, arriving eight hours (hopefully) later in Probolingo. Bali was fun, more to it than expected, and I could use more time here, but for now, there’s a whole other island and some 100 million people on the immediate horizon. See you there.
My last shift at Matilda Bay behind me with the skyline of Perth, I was aboard a bus at 7 AM bound for the southwestern town of Esperance. My last trip in Australia, my last week down under, and a last bit of beach, wine, desert, and excessively long road trips. The trip from Perth to Esperance was over 800km, and that was just the first day of travel. Thankfully, there were a few stops to break the road up, worthy or not. The first stop falls into the latter category: it was a dog cemetery. Every year, all the farmers in the land and beyond put their dogs in the backs of their utes and parade past the cemetery to the nearby town Corrigin. There were somewhere near 1000 once upon a time, probably before everyone realized what a dull parade this would be. Prior to that, we stopped in one of Western Australia’s oldest towns, York, and grabbed a bit of breakfast. The jury is out on which was more interesting. We had lunch at Wave Rock, a large rock formation in the shape of a cresting wave, which was a much more interesting stop. Before long, we were in Esperance, eating lasagne and playing spoons. I think we have a pretty balanced group – fun but not outrageous, and definitely varied and interesting. Already I have lots of tips for Thailand from an Aussie who lived there a couple years. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The second day we spent completely in Esperance, which was a nice break from all the driving on day one. Our first stop was a climb up Frenchman’s Peak, which was pretty nice and offered panoramic views of the coast around Esperance. Back at the bottom, we went to Lucky Bay which was just stunning. The sand was as white as I’ve ever seen though the wind was fresh from Antarctica we still had a bit of a swim. Hellfire Bay was next, apparently named for a bit of St. Elmo’s fire happening on an explorer’s ship mast as he took refuge from a storm there. This was also a beautiful spot, we sat on the rock as the waves flew in past us and crashed maybe 20m below. I understood why people rate the beaches here so highly now. And that was BEFORE we took our little trip up the Twilight Road to see some of the other beaches closer in to the actual town; Esperance’s self-titled beach is one of my favourites. Or at least, it would be… until I came upon the Green Pools the next day.
Day three of our five day tour, Feb 20, brought us a long way once more. In fact we drove and drove and finally reached Porongurup National Park sometime after lunch, where we ascended Castle Rock in the late afternoon. The view was of scattered boulders – one balanced quite precariously – on the mountaintop and once we conquered those, of vast plains and mountains fogged by distance. Something like looking at the far western prairies of Alberta, I suppose. It was a nice walk up and, low and behold, I got reception with Vodaphone – the worst carrier in Australia, in my opinion – at the top. This was handy as I had to give my credit card details over the phone to an optometrist with whom I’d organized to get some more contacts dropped at Daren’s place. I also discovered that my iPod had been dropped off at Matilda Bay, presumably operating normally. Then back down and into Albany. While supper was being prepared, I went with Rowan and the Germans to a brewery down the street which did a nice white/wheat and blueberry beer. In fact, their pilsner was my favourite, but as you can tell I did some sampling. Back at the hostel, banana cake as an appetizer, spaghetti as a main, and more pints for dessert.
Day four was probably the best day of the trip. We were out of the hostel and on the road by 8AM, and it’s just as well, we had a lot of business to attend to that day. Our first stop, about 20 minutes later, was Natural Bridge. The rock here is an exact match with that found on the northern coast of Antarctica, which is pretty cool to think about. I remember feeling a breeze coming directly from the south and thinking that I was being called to explore the vast expanses of the south. Someday. Back in the real world, we got back on the bus and headed further along the coast to some blow holes. While water wasn’t coming out (luckily), massive blasts of air were. One of the Japanese girls on our trip volunteered her long hair to the blow hole and just about volunteered her shirt, too, when a deafening blast suddenly hit after a couple very mild ones. Then we were off to one of my favourite beaches in Australia, probably second after the Whitsundays – that is the Green Pools. The water was perfect, sheltered, and green, the sand white, and boulders were strewn everywhere, perfect for diving around and having a great time. The one boulder was a bit of a trick to climb but I got up my first time and had a couple jumps.
Not bad for a morning out. By noon, we were at a honey winery, sampling some tasty and some less tasty wines. I really liked their medium-dry wine, but I already have a bottle sitting in wait for my return to Perth. We were off to the toffee factory next for toffee and lunch, though lunch was hurried by a sudden downpour. Thankfully the rain let up long enough for us to do the treetop walk in the Valley of the Giants, which climbs up to 40m above the canopy. It was developed because the tingle trees below have some very delicate roots which don’t like being walked on all that much, and it’s become a huge attraction down here. Much more exciting was the diamond tree down the road, where you could climb 65 metres on pegs drilled into the side of the tree with no safety net really. It was the scariest thing I’ve done in Australia but really a great experience. That night, we had a house to ourselves and therefore a party and a big dinner to go with it. We played 20 questions and I was first Chewie and then Spock, which I guess means they’ve discovered I’m a geek. We all had a lot of fun that night.
Our final day we stopped at a chocolate factory, Flying Fish winery in Margaret River, and an aboriginal centre. The aboriginal centre has to be the best one of its kind in Australia, very hands-on and visual, including a tool-making demonstration. The amount of things they used the trees and rocks for is astounding – they even found a tree which could deoxygenate the water temporarily and thus send fish to the surface where they could easily be scooped. We also learned about their barbaric but effective punishment of crime. Steal a boomerang? Two warriors were dispatched to find you and bring you and it back, whereupon your hand was placed on a rock and another rock at the end of a stick was brought down with full force on your dominant hand, breaking every single bone and identifying you as a thief after you’d been outcast. No second chances here. If you managed to escape, you knew that after two weeks a family member would be taking the punishment for you. Prisons were not an issue.
Finally, we stopped by the Ngili caves which were quite spectacular. Lots of recording has been done down here and I can see why, the acoustics are great, nevermind the ambience. Our final stop was Busselton Jetty, the longest jetty in the world stretching 2km into the ocean. We got some ice cream, a group photo or two, and returned to Perth that Friday night. Saturday morning brought three hours of talk with everyone back home, some errands in the city, and a trip to Matilda Bay to collect my iPod, final pay and tips – which for some reason Belinda had sent away to the office instead of leaving for me to collect – and say goodbye. I got a ride back to the city with a couple of the chefs, ran a few errands, and went home where I ordered Eagle Boys pizza delivery and cracked open my bottle of Rockford Basket Press Shiraz. Janine was home not long after and we watched a show or two and finished the wine, which was much better with company.
Sunday, I met with some of the people from my tour and Janine for my first and last Sunday session – a Perth staple – in Cottlesloe. I met some of Janine’s and Daren’s friends there as well as a few of the tour folk, we had some drinks in the hot sun, played pool with some crazy Aussies, and before I knew it the sun was down on my trip to Australia. I was at the airport at seven Monday morning, on a Garuda Airlines flight by nine, and somewhere between scenes of the inflight movie (The Ex) I caught my last glimpse of Australia, a reverse oasis; a sprawling desert paradise in my middle of the ocean, an immense piece of land so large that it is largely taken for granted and forgotten. I looked back out the window again; an empty ocean stared back at me.
Tasmania disappeared on the horizon as I winged my way back to Melbourne on Friday, Jan 19. I had four days to say a final farewell to Melbourne before returning to Perth, work, and one last month in Australia. I caught up with Alex at his place, where he was kind enough to let me crash again. We were going to go out that night but Alex was still under the weather a bit from the night prior, so I met up with Andrew in St. Kilda and grabbed a few drinks and some food. Sunday was spent wandering around Melbourne, stopping, of course, at Stalactites for a souvlaki and to say hello to Paris, Nicole, and Vicky. I spent the next day home fixing up some of the very major problems that appeared when we moved FrankBlack.Net to a new server. In fact, I spent day and night doing that, which was a big pain, but it was a relief to finally have it working again and one less monkey on my back. Tuesday morning I met up with Melinda to go to the Australian Open tennis. She brought a full picnic once again from the Victoria markets and we watched several matches in the very reasonably priced outdoor. I’m not much of a tennis fan, but there were players there that even I recognized. Sharapova was playing in the much more pricey arena that night and Melinda and I managed to catch a game between the Williams sisters and some Chinese doubles. It was great to see these athletes so closely doing what they do better than almost anyone. I caught up with Catherine for a beer or two at Transport bar, once more with Andrew (I was trying to meet up with Ferg as well, but it just didn’t work out) and then I was off the next morning (Jan 23) back to Perth.
My first day back at work was Jan 27, the day after Australia Day. Daren picked me up at the airport, which was very good of him. I should mention that Alex also dropped me off at the airport in Melbourne, which was likewise very appreciated – it’s a pain getting very expensive shuttles really early in the morning to and from the airport. I had drinks with Daren and Janine that evening, spent the next day running around town getting some errands done (including immunizations for Asia!) and clothes cleaned, and Friday went into Matilda Bay for Adam’s farewell dinner. I probably – ok, I definitely – had a drink or two too many on an empty stomach. There was food, but it was all finger foods and as a result of one of my shots I hadn’t eaten anything all day except that. So it was that the next morning, Australia Day, I was in dire need of a greasy breakfast. Daren obliged in the traditional Australian fashion – a BBQ.
Meanwhile, it turned out that another friend from Saskatoon was in Perth, Brett Marcoux, and we had arranged to meet up at Daren’s Australia Day party and bring some Canadian camaraderie to this celebration of Australiana. It was a great day, and I was glad to not only be at Daren’s for it, but in Perth, where it’s probably the biggest holiday of the year. I caught Sydney’s New Years fireworks and I caught Perth’s Australia Day fireworks. Not to mention two BBQs of goodies, some great home brewed beer by Dazza, and various shenanigans on the foreshore of South Perth. Brett crashed at Daren’s and took the bus with me in the morning as I rode off to work. My first day back at work I was a little nervous about, but I really hadn’t forgotten as much as I was afraid I may have. And comically enough, the next day on the bus to work, who should be sitting there but Brett. The strangeness of this occurrence was a little overwhelming. When I got off the bus yesterday to transfer, he had stayed on. The girl behind us had heard us talking and discovered that we were both Canadians and Brett was looking for somewhere to stay that night. She invited him to tag along with her for the day (they were both Fremantle bound) and he wound up staying at her place, not far up the road from Daren’s, the next night. So it was that leaving her place that morning he was on the same bus line and at the same time as me.
I didn’t see much of anyone or anything but work until that Sunday when a day I had long been looking forward to finally arrived: Big Day Out. Yes, this landmark of Australian music festivals was bringing Arcade Fire, Spoon, Augie March, Paul Kelly, Rage Against The Machine, and more right to Perth, and I had a ticket. Brett had a ticket. Daren and Janine and their friends had tickets. Avram had a ticket. Friends from work all had tickets. It was going to be a great day. We arrived in style, Beno, one of Daz’s friends, drove us in nice and early and we beat the lines for tickets, drinks, and several small bands I was hoping to see. I met up with Brett and we saw Spoon and Arcade Fire together. Both were disappointing, but I feel that this is the nature of festivals. Like traveling, a festival is akin to a whirlwind tour of Europe. You see all the sights but don’t really experience the culture. Whereas an individual show is more like sitting at the café and really absorbing one band.
Add to this that Arcade Fire’s sound and energy is lost on a grand plain with lots of people who know them only in name and weren’t really too excited and Spoon was relegated to a small stage that was largely forgotten and it explains why, I suppose. Don’t get me wrong, I quite enjoyed seeing them live, both were great, it just wasn’t what I was hoping for. The only band that really impressed me was Paul Kelly, and I think that was because he was up against Rage. I would’ve stuck around for Rage but I could neither see nor be close to them in any way, it was like everyone at the festival was there for them. So Paul Kelly’s fans were excited, ravenous, and, let’s face it, the man put on a great show. He reminds me a bit of FB&C’s, which is a good thing, and I am thoroughly happy I checked him out instead of hanging out so I could name-check Rage in my “bands I’ve seen – sort of” list.
After Big Day Out, there’s little to report. I’ve been working as much as possible to save up for Asia, I’ve discovered that I should get about half the tax I’ve paid back, I’m now (hopefully) immune to several unpleasant Asian afflictions, and I have my tickets booked. I fly to Denpasar (Bali) on Feb 25th, to Singapore (tentatively) on Mar 18th, and home from Beijing (subject to change) on Aug 5th. I also booked a whirlwind tour of the south west, the as yet only remaining area of Australia for me to explore. Well, sure, there are plenty of things I missed, like the Simpson desert and outback New South Wales for a start, but I feel like, with this done, I will have seen everything I wanted to here in Australia. Meanwhile, Brett has taken off to New Zealand, leaving on Friday Feb 8. We were supposed to go to Rottnest that day but it didn’t work out with his flight, so instead we grabbed lunch at Little Creatures Brewery – chili mussels and two pizzas. And many more beer. It was a great way to spend an afternoon, and a very Perth thing to do. We’ll hopefully meet up somewhere in Asia for a few days, it was great to catch up with him and I’m sure we’ll both have plenty more stories by then.
Daren likewise is gone, which means I’m looking after his place. It would be nice to have him around but he’s up north with Janine doing a little travel of his own, and it is also nice to have a place to myself. I haven’t really had much of that as you might imagine. Still, there are times I’d like to come home and have someone to have a drink with. I guess you can’t have it both ways. At this point I have two shifts left of work – Valentine’s Day and Sunday the 17th. I can’t believe how fast the end is coming to my year in Australia. I can’t believe how fast one year came and went since I left home on Jan 15th. A lot has happened at home and abroad since then including the passing of my pappou – my Greek grandfather – one year to the day after my departure from Canada. I discovered this when I made a payphone call from Lake St Clair in Tasmania to wish my mom a happy birthday on the 17th of Jan, which was the 16th back home. They’d been trying to get a hold of me and of course I was out of reception completely. I never did get to know him all that well as a result of my poor Greek and his poor English, and that’s probably what is most upsetting about it. But the world keeps spinning down here as up there and each day brings change. I will have to spend some time with my aunts and uncles when I get home to try and piece together some of that history so that it is not lost to me for good.
But looking back at my own history, in particular this last year and all the adventures I’ve undertaken across this great land, life has been good, it has been interesting, and it has been better than I could wish for. Perfect by no means, but perhaps better. I hope that everyone following along is likewise finding and doing things they enjoy in this grand adventure we have all of us embarked upon, and I look forward to our trails crossing in the future. Until then, my path will continue to be charted here as I finish in Australia and venture into the Asian unknown.
I actually woke up early for once; despite going to bed at 12:30, I was up at 5:40 and on the road with Andrew about an hour after that. As it was only the two of us, the itinerary was pretty much whatever I wanted within reason. We stopped for breakfast in Westbury and looked at a big map they have on the wall of Tasmania. As Chelsea would say, “It looks like a heart!” The itinerary was a stop in some caves, a short walk in Cradle Mountain national park, and then camp. But I saw the Walls of Jerusalem park, which I’d heard was beautiful right beside it, so the next thing I knew, we were making steam for the Moses Creek track, a track that is classified “T-4: No groups over four, no publication or images, etc”. That is, when we were actually on the track, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I would later refer to the track as the “Lord of the Rings” track, because you kept thinking it was the end and then half an hour later, you were still not at the troopy. But we did find our way back… eventually.
We started out in the conventional way. Fairly clear track, walk along it, la dee da, fork in the path, which way do we go? But soon we got onto a much less used track. To give you an idea of remoteness, we would be on this track for 9 hours of arduous hiking and not see another soul. We trekked through forest and came across an area that had burned about 10 years ago and not though it no longer looked charred it was definitely still a clearing. The next clearing we came to was a peaty meadow-bog, which had a grand looking mountain on the horizon. Mount Ragoona, I was told, and was surprised to learn it was our destination today. Not only was it high up there but it was not exactly nearby. We closed the gap by going off trail and far more vertical than winding our way along the track on the backside. This was a great success, and we were up in record time. Andrew thought we might as well go down the other side and around to a trail along a different lake and have a different hike back, which I liked the idea of. Sure, a little more tramping off-track, no problem. What that meant, I would soon learn, was rock climbing down part of the face (not too far, thankfully) and walking under, around, over, and usually right through thick bush. Combined with a long walk up and a treacherous trek down, this was exhausting. Not only was my knee getting sore but I was getting physically exhausted. Had I known we still would be walking 4 hours later, I might’ve stumbled and collapsed right there, probably right onto a snake; snakes were just one thing to worry about. And then we kept going and going and not finding the trail. We were supposed to hit it right before the lake but we were just about on top of the lake and, given the increasingly late hour, even Andrew was starting to worry when finally we hit it. Yes, it still took a long time to get back, but at least not slogging through scrub.
We made it back to the car at 6:30, which made it the longest walk Andrew had ever taken anyone on commercially. To celebrate and soothe our aching legs, we went an extra 40 km to get some beer. It definitely hit the spot. Camp was nice, they had showers and everything there, and I was out like a light not long after the sun. The next day, we went to Cradle Mountain after helping another guide get her van started – the other guide had left the lights on. It didn’t take much and we were standing at one end of Dove Lake looking up as it reflected Cradle Mountain looming over top. It was a beautiful sight to behold and we had perfect weather, nary a cloud in the sky. We made our way up to Marion’s Lookout looking over Crater Lake and while Andrew had a sandwich, I ran up further hoping for some better shots of the lake. Instead, Barn Bluff was sitting over the ridge waiting for me. But it was not to be. Back down and on the road, iPod cranked, sun shining, and a nice cold Boags in my hand and we were on the road looking for somewhere to camp. We crossed the Pieman river and took a bit of a jaunt up a road that Andrew had blockaded (it cut the world’s then-largest temperate rainforest in two and is now known by locals as the ‘Road to Nowhere’) when he was 18. There was nothing to see but forest on either side though, so I didn’t feel too bad about it.
We set up camp nice and early, much earlier than the previous night. Andrew put on some Xavier Rudd, John Butler, and then a third guy he’d heard of from a Canadian friend with some sitar. It was strange to look at the fire with this music – one of the logs looked like a dragon’s face, one that was unhappy – possibly because it was burning? The smoke came at me not long after I flunked this Rorschach test, as though it were being blown from the dragon’s mouth. I clumsily leaned to try to get out of the smoke and it followed as I almost fell out of my chair. Flames started to lick from the would-be dragon’s mouth as the sitar played loudly in the background, and the smoke relented and swung over to Andrew. He closed his eyes and time seemed to slow. It was a weird moment, I didn’t think he’d outlast the dragon and smoke engulfed him as white flakes of ash danced in the air. The smoke kept coming and he sat meditatively. And then, when I thought he could hold his breath no more, the smoke drifted away and he opened his eyes like nothing had happened. I had just witnessed an epic battle between man and nature, and he had no idea. I thought to myself that this must be what it’s like on some sort of hallucinogenic drug. As long as my imagination is this overactive, not only do I not need them (or want them), but it might be downright dangerous for me! At the very least, it told me that I should stop imagining I have any ability to write fiction.
The next day, we took a hike up Mount Donaldson, which was supposed to give nice views of the surrounding Tarkine forest and the ocean, but the weather was clouded and misty and we could only just make out the slightly darker line of the ocean on the horizon. We took a trip further down the coast and had lunch where the group normally camps. The west coast is open sea all the way to South Africa, so the surf is huge. Even on a day like today, where the waves were calm it was still an intimidating sight. We made our way further along to Zeehan for a chai latte and covered a lot of ground that afternoon, making our way on to a long a rugged 4WD track just past Lake St Clair which led to a pretty nice camp site. That allowed us to get an early start the next morning and have a good day hike in the lake area. The weather had been misty and cloudly all the previous day, so it was very nice that we had absolutely perfect weather. We climbed Mt Rufus into the sun, which offered some great views of the lake and valleys along. As it was such a clear day and the air was recently washed of impurity by yesterday's rain, we could see all the way to Frenchman's Cap and beyond from the top. The track back down was long and mostly uninteresting beyond the first bits, which were in 'marsupial lawns', grassy meadows in the middle of the scrub and of course walking along a ridge returning to earth.
Camp that night was the best campsite so far, on the shores of Pine Tier Lagoon, a very Austrian-looking lake. On top of having a bit of a much-needed swim, we had a little wildlife show as a mother possum with a baby on top was lurking around camp and then a quoll was bounding around as well. We thought they might scrap it out but there was no fight that night. My final day in the bush was a trip down to Mt. Field National Park, home of the famed Russell Falls, which is probably the most impressive waterfall in Australia as well as a couple smaller falls, Horseshoe and Lady Barron. I did a circuit of all three while Andrew went to make lunch, as well as the Giant Tree walk. The giant tree walk is just that, a circuit among the tallest hardwood trees in the world, Eucalyptus Regnas. Some of these trees were 27 stories high. If you were to put one of these trees in downtown Saskatoon, it would make the highest mark in the sky. Only the redwoods of California, which are a softwood, are taller in all the world.
I did the loop and walked to what I thought was Russell Falls but was actually Horseshoe, and then down to Lady Barron falls after that. Then I returned to camp to discover I had not seen the main attraction and whatsmore, after dropping me off, Andrew had seen a Platypus. A Platypus!! I've been trying my whole time here to see a platypus and there was one right by our camp while I was wandering around in the woods thinking I should've stopped by a washroom before my hike. I went along the river hoping to spot it, but to no avail, and then came back and had hamburgers. Andrew and I hiked up to Russell Falls which was not running at full strength with the drought, but was still incredible, especially with a little imagination. There was a wildlife park nearby and we stopped there as there are supposed to be plenty of platypi around. Again, no luck. We also went up to some more really tall trees that were slated to be cut down until some protesters managed to save them, but the amount saved was not exactly generous. Then back to Hobart, for some pizza, a stay with Kerri (another couch surfer), and I was off to Melbourne and civilization once more.
I arrived at my Hobart hostel, City Central Backpackers, exactly when I predicted. The stroke of noon. The flight down to Tasmania, the last state to be explored on my rapidly concluding Australian journey, was pretty uneventful. My laptop battery didn’t last long playing a game of Civilization IV (when was the last time I played a computer game, I don’t know) and so I got started on my new book, The Kite Runner, which Daren and Janine had given me for Christmas. As much as I’d enjoyed reading Xenophon’s take on Socrates, I was looking forward to a more entertaining read, and right from the book’s first line, it delivered. But I digress. I met a Swiss guy on the bus into town staying at my hostel, and we chatted a bit as the bus crossed the Tasman bridge and the sky was suddenly filled with kites. It turned out, rather befitting my new book, there was a kite festival in town. As we couldn’t check in for an hour anyway, the two of us wandered in a direction we thought would take us back there. It didn’t, in fact, it was the complete opposite direction, but as someone once told me, “Adventure comes from poor planning” and indeed it did.
Having realized our mistake, by which I mean my mistake, we wandered back in the proper direction and took a walk through Battery Point en route to the park. I’d called Leo, a CouchSurfer, a local expert of sorts that invited Flavic (my Swiss friend) and I to take a spin with him to the top of Mt. Wellington and see the views. So, all that walking and we wound up back at the hostel instead, to check in and put our bags in our room before Leo met us at the botanical gardens. Unfortunately, ‘our’ room meant my room and his room, which had different numbers, floors, and locations, and we didn’t cross paths again. I went on to the kite festival myself, and noted, not for the first time, at how friendly Tasmanians are. Hardly a hint of the spinning dervishes I was expecting. Then, on to a quite long walk to the botanical gardens, through the memorial to the 500 Tasmanians that had died in the great wars (one tree for each soldier), where I looked around, snapped some photos, and read a lot more of my increasingly excellent book.
Leo met me there, eventually, and we drove up to the top of Mt. Wellington as promised. It’s a hard place to get to, unless you have wheels, which I was seriously contemplating. Tours up here are pricey and there’s no bus, but there WAS a long trail. It would’ve been doubly long as it was quite chilly at the top and I don’t have much left in the warm clothes department. We got some nice shots and Leo described the history, geography, and layout of his new home in Hobart. He kind of reminds me of Terry a bit, actually, and we got along pretty well. I met his two roommates and we had a bit of dinner there before meeting another CSer for coffee, whose name was Kerri. She was pretty nice, too, and I thought that I should’ve gotten more involved in this whole CouchSurfing community much sooner. Then we all parted ways and my first day in Tasmania was over.
The next morning, I got my life in Tassy sorted. I tried to figure out if there were any ‘adventure’ tours, by which I meant multi-activity. A bit of trekking here, climbing there, and so on. One of the things I really wanted to do in Tasmania was the Overland track, an eight day hike through some amazing terrain, but as I considered the other things I wanted to see and do and the fact that I had booked my flight back to Perth for the 23rd of January from Melbourne, time was not on my side. I found a company, TasSafari, that did do a lot of day hikes into some nice scenery over about 10 days, and given it was already the 7th of Jan and I really only had two weeks anyway, that sounded about right. It would give me a few days in Melbourne (I booked a flight that morning for the 19th) and let me get a rough scraping of the island, which was probably the best I could hope for. You can’t see and do it all, you really can’t. So I booked a tour leaving Hobart on Wednesday the 9th, and my Tasmanian experience was sorted. Having done this, I stopped by a travel agent to chat about my trip into Asia and was a bit discouraged that the requirements for proof-of-intent-to-depart were so strict.
I soothed my thoughts on this with a nice piece of pastitsio at a Greek restaurant in Salamanca Square, one of the better ones I’ve had from a restaurant (still nothing compared to Aunt Nicky’s), and sat in the sun reading my book. It reminded me of the month I spent in Crete, sitting in a café, reading my textbooks with a bowl of Greek salad and eventually yogurt and enjoying the afternoon. I felt relaxed here in Tasmania almost instantly. I walked around the city for a while and then met up with Kerri, who picked me up for a BBQ at her place where we also met another CSer, a Belgian named Will. We had a good barbecue, some nice wine, and a good chat before calling it a night. The following day, I got a few supplies, met up with Will for dinner and met a girl named Clare and some of her friends who were good fun, and played Wii and music and had drinks. When I was walking home, a girl pulled over to ask me where I was heading and if I wanted a lift, presumably because of my backpack and Canadian flag. Yes, these Tasmanians are a friendly bunch, and Hobart certainly was good to me.
Bright and early the next morning, 6:15 to be precise, I was leaving all that goodness behind and venturing up the east coast. I met my fellow travelers in our 4WD, loaded my bags, and jumped on. Mostly older people, though an Italian, Fabio, was my age, but they were all pretty nice. We drove up the Tasman peninsula to Port Arthur, a historic place where Tasmania’s first convicts were kept in quite brutal conditions. The security for the place was a line of hungry dogs on chains and the fact that it was otherwise isolated by water. Then we drove down to the peninsula’s southern point and walked, I’d say a good 15km to Cape Raoul, which was a beautiful walk. It starts in the forest making its way for the coast which is framed with some of the highest seacliffs in Australia. Once upon a time, a whole bunch of hot magma forced its way to the surface, only to stop short, buried by a bunch of soft sedimentary rock which over time was eroded away again. The result is a bunch of columns of rock shooting straight into the sky like the water being dashed against its face far below. There were plenty of spectacular views and it was a definite walk off the beaten track.
We caught dinner at camp, which was a bit late because our camp spot had been taken and we had to track down another one. Fabio and I shared a tent, we all shared some Boags, and we sat around the campfire and watched the stars start flickering on. My knee has been acting funny after lots of exertion lately, and it was pretty sore the next morning; I was and am a little worried about it, actually. We walked to Wineglass Bay anyway, because of clouds we didn’t climb to the top of Mt. Amos, and once it warmed up my knee wasn’t so bad. Wineglass Bay is an isolated beach on the opposite side of the peninsula from the main road, so the only way in is to hike. It is so named because the curvature makes it look like a giant wineglass filled with absynth. Again our weather was not so cooperative, but we went down to the beach anyway as the cloud finally started to break. It was beautiful from the bottom, bordered by orange-tinged rock (rusted iron deposits) and forest, and the sun was peeking out from time to time from the racing clouds not too far above. We set out for our second camp in an abandoned town on a mountaintop. The town is gone, but grassy plains remain and a lot of trails to nearby mountains and views. We had what has to be one of the best dinners I’ve had since I took Daren and Janine out to dinner, topped off with chocolate bananas (my first attempt at them) and I took a quick run up to the top of the nearest mountain before the sun went down.
The next morning we went back to that same mountaintop, and it was even more spectacular as the clouds rolled around in the valley below. We took a second walk through some forest to another lookout, and then did two walks in the Blue Tier forest. It’s a little bit sad that the Blue Tier forest is slated for logging. Normally, it would be protected as old growth forest (in other words, forest that has never been replanted) but as the result of a trench running through it, the entire forest is instead ‘re-growth’ and I hate to think that in a few years it won’t be there at all. Hopefully something is done about this silly classification system. Anyway, it was beautiful. There were some massive, massive trees (one 20m in diameter), lots of very old and tall fern trees, and a beautiful creek running through. We had lunch near the largest tree, which had a hollow cave in it that could probably fit 15-20 people and climbed back up. After some more backroads driving, we were off to Launceston to end the eastern leg of our trip with some parmy and delicious Boags beer. Now I have three nights here before catching the western side of the island-state and wrapping up my Tasmanian adventure.
The three nights in Launceston went quite fast. My first day was the arrival, which was marked by going out for dinner with the group. The second day, I walked around the city centre and bought some more shorts for the warmer climes and did the approximately 10km walk around Cataract Gorge, a beautiful gorge that’s literally a ten minute walk from the city centre. I walked all the way to the Duck Reach power station, which is pretty remote, and there were lizards everywhere sunning themselves on rocks. I was really hoping I didn’t come across a snake and kept a keen eye out but it wasn’t my day to get scrappy with the locals thankfully. On the walk they have a free swimming pool right on the river running through the gorge not to mention the nice walk. A very impressive park to have in a city. My final day I had planned to bike up to the Tamar Valley and do a bit of the wine circuit, but the wind was against the idea from the start, so I settled for a tour. And before I knew it, I was getting ready for bed to get up and head off into the wild west of Tasmania for a 5 day trip back to Hobart. Cradle Mountain, Lake St Clair, and who knows what else is on the itinerary, but I happen to know that I’m the only one booked on the tour and Andrew is my guide once again, so we should be pretty flexible and able to do some unique things. We’re leaving the trailer behind to get to some really off-the-tourist-track type locales. But that’s enough foreshadowing for now, I’ll see you soon.
