Journal Entry 32
May 5th, 2004
"Driftin'"
Peter, Maryanna, Ian, Larapinta, Bruce, Ghan, Cowleys, Britz,
Brett, VirginBlue, Henning, Terry, Craig, Jonathon, Overland, Jerusalem, John,
Jack, Corn Jack, Mark, Guy, Barry, Glenn, Brian, Adrian, Linda, Spirit, George
W, Mari-Louise.
These are names of people, places, and things that made up my time in Australia.
Not necessarily destinations, but primarily names linked to the journeys between
them, which have been the most memorable part of my stay here.
==============================================
The Mainland
==============================================
To start...I left off in Cairns, fresh from Papua New Guinea.
Peter. About 40. Danish, a teacher/taxicab driver. I responded to a posting of
his (in Cairns) looking for people to split fuel
costs to Darwin.
We were joined by Iris, an early-20s German student. Over four days, we
travelled 2000km across the Outback of Queensland and the
Northern Territory, and changed our destination to Alice Springs
instead of
Darwin.
Torrential rain, waterfalls, hills and the color green slowly transitioned to
dry, flat, red wastelands populated by small towns (few and far far between),
termites, clouds of grasshoppers, wallabies (almost hit one our first night),
falcons (hit one) and road trains (semis with three long trailers, 50m long!).
Stopped in Normanton (just off the Gulf of Carpentaria)
and saw a replica of the world's largest croc--8.73m (29')--it was like a
dinosaur! Also stopped at the Purple Pub there for noon-time happy hour amid
some crusty locals. We usually pulled off the road at night and I slept on top
of the van under the stars. Some car problems slowed us down, the first just
after we crossed the prophetically-named "Dismal Creek". By the time we hit the
middle of Australia
(Tennant Creek), I'd decided I wanted to go to Alice Springs (to the south)
instead of Darwin
(at the top). Because of van problems, Peter decided to head north to Darwin after all. He
dropped me off on the edge of town where I awaited a hitch.
Maryanna. Mid-40s, I'd say. An Australian nurse driving a medical vehicle with
two Aboriginal women and their children. They'd been into Tennant Creek to the
hospital, and Maryanna was taking them home--about three hours into the
bush--when they stopped to pick me up. They took me 100km south, where I camped
out behind the Devil's Marbles, a national park consisting of rocks that look
like giant red, well, marbles.
Ian. About 50. A gold miner whose hobbies are fishing and prospecting. He works
for a gold mine way out in the bush (they have to fly in on shifts). He took me
the last 400km to Alice Springs. Entertaining
guy. Talked about a bit of everything, including why all the foreigners that die
in Australia
every year happen to be Germans.
Larapinta. The name of a new trail, completed in 2003, that winds 250km through
the West McDonnell Ranges.
I walked 135km, alone, over a week through harsh hot hot sunny sunny desert
which varied from rolling hills and chasms to low mountains and passes. At times
there's 25km between water stops, so at times I carried almost 8 litres (amounts
to about 17 lbs) of water. Ughh. But it was good. In the States, when I hike I
usually don't see wallabies hopping around, and giant lizards (well, only one,
we had a standoff on the trail, he won), and poisonous snakes (one as well), a
dingo (howling outside my tent one night), big ants that bite and leave welts
for days and smell like plastic when you smash them, and clouds of annoying
flies (and I cannot describe how it feels for a week straight to be followed by
a swarm of one hundred flies that never cease to buzz in your ear and land on
your face and in orifices). I only saw one other group that week. It was a
challenging time. I smashed an 11-day trek into 6 days and a morning, which my
body didn't much appreciate. Looking back in my journal, at one point I wrote
"I'm falling apart". Somehow it was fun, though.
Bruce. After a ride with an anonymous German couple in a rented campervan, I was
picked up by Bruce. Aboriginal dude, mid-50s. An artist. Been to Germany once, a
dozen years ago. Showed me his passport even. Funny to hear him talk about how
that went...escalators, the plane ride, the big city... He had the world's
messiest vehicle, but didn't seem to notice. We talked about nature, and
animals, and bush vs. city life. A good guy. Dropped me off in Alice Springs, where I recovered for a day or two, before
catching the...
Ghan. The name of the train that goes N/S through the Outback. I'd scrapped my
idea of even going up to Darwin at all, instead
opting to head south to Adelaide.
I wanted to take a train in an "advanced" country at some stage anyway. 1550km,
overnight, about 19 hours. Awesome. A lounge car. A movie showing. Big seats
that recline. Quite comfy. But I slept poorly. How can I catch zzz's on a
Chinese hardseat but not sleep properly in relative luxury? I'll never know. A
lot of nothing went by outside the train windows. Flat expansive wasteland, more
or less.
Cowleys. To be more precise, "Cowley's Pie Floater, since 1873". I stayed in
Adelaide
a few days. My first proper Western city. Tall buildings and nice parks and a
big market and family picnics. Took in a concert of (not very good) punk bands
one night, temporarily sating my need for live music. My last night, I ate out
(kind of) for the first time in
Australia
at the Cowley's stand. The pie floater (since 1873) is a meat pie, in a bowl,
smothered by green pea soup, literally almost enough to make the pie "float",
then drizzled in heaps of ketchup. Brilliant! I hadn't yet eaten out in Oz
because it's (a) expensive, and (b) they don't seem to really have their own
cuisine. But this is the kind of stuff I like that you can only get in one spot!
Another couple arrived and ordered a pie floater while I was standing, eating
mine, at the stainless-steel counter, and the guy told his girlfriend that he'd
had a pie floater down the road. The grumpy owner of the stand told him that's
not possible as there's only one Cowley's (the original...since 1873) and other
stands use potatoes, and in general do other things that leave their product
quite inferior. I suppressed a smile.
Britz. Next stop for me was Melbourne.
I called several car rental agencies until Britz had what I was looking for: a
car (a campervan, to be precise) that needed to be relocated from Adelaide to
Melbourne. So I paid merely $1 a day for three days and
got free petrol, in return for helping them get their vehicle where they needed
it. Three days, $3, and 1100km later, I pulled into
Melbourne, having crossed South Australia's dry
desolate hills. I toured a couple of wine regions (once again appreciating the
finer things in life, like free samples of Cabernet Sauvignon), visited some
parks and nice small towns, slept in the campervan off the road at night, got
free samples at a chocolate factory and two cheese places, and toured the famous
Great Ocean Road with its big cliffs and winding hills. And of course I stopped
by Hamilton, the
wool capital of the world, where among other things I learned the world record
for number of sheep sheared in a day by a man armed only with a pair of manual
sheers.
Brett. A phy/ed teacher from Melbourne who I'd met in Sri Lanka, then again in Nepal. He's one of the travelling
friends I still keep in contact with. Upon arrival in Melbourne I gave him a ring and ended up
crashing at his place. My first night there, I got a very Australian experience:
watching an Aussie-rules footy match with he and his girlfriend and his
relatives. His aunt served salad and lasagna and popcorn and red wine and
chocolate. Oh, there was a game going on too--Brisbane over Collingwood. But with food like
that and good conversation, I didn't notice the game too much. The rest of the
my time in Melbourne, walked around, saw the beach, did a free IQ and
personality test (only place open in downtown Melbourne for Easter holiday),
cooked a lot, and went to one of the acts in the annual Melbourne International
Comedy Festival...one of Brett's roommates played guitar in a standup routine so
we got free tix!
==============================================
Tasmania
==============================================
VirginBlue. The discount airline that allows you to fly cheap within Australia. $85
Aussie (about $65 US) to fly from Melbourne to Hobart, the capital of Tasmania. Easter holiday meant little was
open but I had an enjoyable couple days wandering around this hilly picturesque
city next to the sea. Fall colors were beginning.
Henning. Norwegian student, early 20s. He and his wife were driving down to the
Tasman
Peninsula
(SE Tasmania). I hopped in for the 2-hr trip.
Walked along the rugged cliff-lined coast and stayed at a cozy little cottage
and got fresh vegetables out of the owners' garden.
Terry. Mid-50s Tasmanian guy who owned the cottage. He was heading into Hobart next day, so went
back to town with him. I don't think he liked me, but then he didn't seem to
like anyone. I spent the day in Hobart preparing
for my next endeavor, the next day taking a bus to the edge of town to start
hitching again, headed to Lake
Saint Clair
National Park, 200km away.
Craig. About my age. Took me 20km up the road to New Norfolk. Drove through main
street and pointed out the butcher shop where his dad worked before dropping me
off on the far side of town in a spot he reckoned would be best to find another
ride.
Jonathon. Again, about my age. Commercial fisherman. Just before the rain hit,
he picked me up and took me the rest of the way, 2 hrs down the road, filling
his steaming radiator en route. From Derwent
Bridge, where he dropped me off, I
walked 5km to get to the National Park, a big one in western Tasmania.
Overland. The Overland Track is one of the most famous walks in the world
apparently. Takes about five days. I did it in twelve, doing many side trips
including a visit to the Walls of Jerusalem National Park. Very nice. Waterfalls
and rainforest and lakes and bogs and rivers and mountains. Wallabies and
wombats (like a giant groundhog that poops cubes, really!) and leeches. And cold
weather. But I got lucky. In a region that sees rain eight out of ten days, I
had rain only three out of twelve! Some of my most enjoyable times were when I
took the map and compass and went off myself, staying in some old rustic
trapper's and fishermen's huts and basically just wandering a lot.
Jerusalem. In
the Walls of Jerusalem National Park, someone went a bit nutty with the Biblical
naming; here was what I did one day: I walked up Jaffa Gate and ascended the
Temple, then crossed the Gate of the Chain and passed the
Pool of Bethesda before climbing Zion Hill. I saw the Pool of Siloam and crossed
Ephrams Gate and climbed Mount
Opheus, then emerged at Lake Salome and passed Herods Gate to scale King
Davids
Peak before I made my way
to Solomans Throne. From there I descended into
Damascus
Valley and crossed fields full of
wallabies before returning to the Dixons
Kingdom hut, an old hut used for summer
grazing by the Dixon
family, ages ago. Whewww. Eventually I returned back to the main trail and
reached the end of the Overland Track on my twelfth day. It was a perfect
hike...besides the scenery itself, it was a nice combination of solitary time
off the trail combined with days on the main trail, where you could sit in a hut
all afternoon and socialize.
John. A Queensland couple whose names I missed
gave me a lift from the Park Station at Cradle Mountain
back to the main road. There I was picked up by John. About 55, I'd say. Retired
from the betting/horse racing industry. Drove me about two hours towards
Launceston through rolling pastures and autumn colors below towering peaks in
the clouds. We talked a lot about deforestation in Tazzie and the problems of
rising land prices.
Jack. In his 60's. Taking his lady-friend to the hospital in Launceston, only 20
minutes away. Doesn't usually pick up hitchhikers but said I looked okay. I
seriously question his judgement, however...I was unshaven, muddy, wet, and
sunburnt. Anyway, found a place to stay in Launceston and took a long hot
shower. Several of them.
Corn Jack. Launceston is another beautiful city. A coastal town with old
buildings and parks and a relaxed feel. And very few tourists. About all I did
of consequence in Launceston was searched for a Corn Jack. A
Queensland
couple I'd met on the Overland Trail told me
about this Australian oddity. It's basically breaded and deep-fried creamed
corn. Brilliant! Found one, available at various Milk Bar's around town--small
convenience stores that sell drinks and snacks and deep-fried food. Tasmanians
have great pride in their homeland. The old fireball who sold me mine was no
exception, as we had a nice chat about what a nice little island this is.
Mark. 37, Tasmanian, runs a small travel company. I'd met Mark back in Hobart and called him up
when I reached Launceston. He hooked me up with a 3-hr ride out to Mount William
National Park on Tasmania's northeast coast. En route we got
passed by some cars in the 'Targa
Tasmania' race, a famous annual six-day race around the
island. Anyway, once at the National Park, I walked down 20-30 km of beautiful
white beach and camped solo, then got poured on the next day and walked four
hours to reach the nearest road, where I waited one and a half hours for...
Guy. Mid-30's, English guy that lives in Fiji,
touring Australia
with his girlfriend. Gave me a lift 30 km down the road to St. Helen's, where I
dried out and heated up and walked around this pretty coastal town where
game-fishing is the biggest draw.
Barry. Older guy travelling with his wife Linda. Met them at the hostel in St. Helens. They gave me a lift to St. Marys, where I
stayed on a farm about 1500' up amid sheep pastures and hills, overlooking the
ocean. Truly one of the world's best spots to live I'd say.
Glenn. 30's, works in Hobart,
recently bought a small farm up in the hills near St. Marys, which he's setting
up as a berry and honey farm. Drove out to his place and walked around and hung
out for a day with his friends. Next day he and his mother gave me a lift two
hours west to the main north-south highway in Tasmania.
Brian. Retired guy from the west coast, returning home from a trip to Hobart to drop off some
x-rays and pick up a carfull of sheep manure for his garden. 30 minutes later,
he dropped me off near my exit and I walked 5 km to Evandale, a small historic
little town, where I stayed with Mark (see earlier). Shot some pool, had some
beers, ate some hamburgers, and looked at travel photographs.
Adrian. After
Mark gave me a lift out to the highway, I was picked up by Adrian, a
down-and-outer, late 20's, whose wife had recently left him. Just a short 10 km
hop down the road.
Linda. As in 'Barry and Linda' (see four paragraphs previous)! They (and I) were
surprised at this strange reunion, as we'd met earlier, 200 km away, on the east
coast. Linda was a near-professional backseat driver. She continually offered
Barry tips on his driving that he expertly handled with decades' practice in
quiet resignation. Anyway, they took a scenic route to Devonport (my final
destination), en route hitting some quaint little towns. Linda gave me a hug and
some Mentos and took my picture when they dropped me off. Nice people.
Spirit (of Tasmania).
This is the boat I took back to mainland Australia. A huge ferry. 10-hr
overnight trip. Nice ship. Two drawbacks though: (1) they don't let you sleep on
the floor (what's wrong with getting comfortable?) and (2) Violet
Beauregarde(Willy Wonka) puking and whining to her mother all night long. But I
got to Melbourne
anyway, a bit short on sleep.
Back to the mainland:
George W. First stop: US Consulate to pick up my brand spanking new passport
(applied before I left for Tasmania).
Old one full. As you pass the second round of security, a framed color photo of
G.W. greets you. Hopefully for only another seven months.
Marie-Louise. Wife of Henning (see earlier). Met them in Tasmania. Staying with them my last two
nights in Australia.
My first real ice cream since leaving home I believe. Tomorrow, going to one of
the venues at the Melbourne International Jazz Festival (once again I hit a
random but interesting annual event). One last day walking around the big,
now-familiar city. And I leave
Australia.
==============================================
So...Australia.
Not so foreign. A lot like America;
it must be a New World thing. Aside from
strange sports and strange words for familiar objects and the accent (putting
hidden 'r's on the ends of words like 'hello'), we have a lot in common. Open
spaces, new buildings, planned cities, parks, fashion. It may just be that I've
been away awhile, but Melbourne reminds me a lot
of Minneapolis; and Hobart,
of Duluth (both back in Minnesota).
It's fun being in places again where you are completely anonymous. I'm not a
minority. I speak the same language (almost). Life goes on and I fit in somehow.
Interesting to watch people and their eyes, some vacant, some determined, some
happy. Basically to be less of an outsider where you can better interpret the
goings-on, compared to all that time in Asia.
One thing I hadn't missed from the Western world is institutional toilet paper.
But it's in full force in Australia. One of the
banes of mankind.
I've been requested to quell the rumor that Australians drink Foster's beer.
They don't. Ever.
The Aboriginal thing here is weird. Not very many around, except in the towns in
the Outback. And there, they are quite segregated from the white population, by
choice or by circumstance I'm not fully sure.
Weather here is great in the south. It's sweater weather. I love wearing
sweaters. Or is it that I love the weather that requires one to wear sweaters.
Not sure. But I've missed autumn, and I'm enjoying my first one since I left
home. Crisp breezes and falling leaves and air just cool enough so that you can
see your breathe. Heavenly.
I'm happy to say that in nearly two months in Australia,
I have not once paid an admission fee (aside from National Park entrance) or
done an arranged tour or taken tourist transport (aside from one train journey,
which I really wanted to do to just see how it's different from Asia). I've got around by many different means (hitchhiking
is absolutely fantastic), and I've met many wonderful people. Between camping
and staying with friends I've made, I actually paid for accomodation only 23 out
of my 54 nights in Australia.
Apparently I've committed some Australian-tourist cardinal sin by being in Cairns and not visiting the Great Barrier Reef, and by
being in Alice Springs and not seeing Ayers Rock.
But I don't care. It's always my goal to kinda feel the culture and the
normality of a place, and I think I've succeeded here. Instead of tours and
museums and restaurants, I go on walks and look for swingsets at parks and hang
out at libraries and talk to interesting people. It's been a great experience. I
continue to feel like a pinball, just bouncing around and seeing where I go.
I will leave off with these words of wisdom: "I've done my best. Have you?" This
is from a toilet stall in Adelaide. Whether the
writer was refering to life in general, or what he was doing as he wrote it, I'm
not sure. Either way, it's a good one to think on.
"I arrive through a window, I leave through a hole in the wall." (-M Ward,
'Helicopter')
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