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Notes From Down Under, part the second
Oct. 12th, 2002 02:54 amByron Bay, New South Wales
It is with great reluctance that I leave Byron Bay. This is the
chilled-out kind of beach town where people come for a day and stay for
a month, and I've been here only a week. But verily it is one of life's
great truths: you can live in a giant covered wagon for only so long
before it's time to move on. And so in an hour's time I'll be on a bus
to Queensland and the North.
Understand that I was only staying in the giant wagon because the giant
teepee was full. Accomodation at the Arts Factory Lodge is a wee bit
idiosyncratic. It's a good place, though, in a good town, with all
kinds of things to do. In the last week I've been horseback riding,
surfing, mountain biking, scuba diving (twice), and trapezing -- yes,
trapezing -- and I still feel like I've been extremely lazy. In a good
way.
It turns out I'm not a natural surfer. After a few hours of patient
training I managed to wobble around in front of a few baby waves, but
Zonker Harris I'm not. I am pleased to report that the trapezing came
easier, and I was doing knee-hang catches and backflip dismounts like I
was born to it -- maybe it's not too late to run away and join the
circus after all.
But enough about me, let's talk about Oz.
The funny thing about Australia's east coast is that if you close one
eye and squint with the other it looks a whole lot like California;
green mountains, golden beaches, sunshine and surf hippies, wine
regions, etc. It would be easy to believe, riding the bus through New
South Wales and looking out the window, that you're in some
particularly beautiful part of California. (All the country here is
particularly beautiful.) But you would know, somehow, if you looked
hard enough, that it's not; maybe because you'd realize that half the
plants and trees are species you'd never seen before last week, or
maybe because you see a kangaroo by the side of the road.
Roos are just one step up from vermin in Oz. Like baboons were, in
Africa. Funny ol' world.
Another example: I went horseback riding a week ago -- and, despite it
being my first time on a horse in fifteen years, with more trotting and
cantering over rough rainforest tracks than I had expected (actually I
had expected none) I was still able to walk the next day -- and the
road up to the ranch could have been almost anywhere in Canada or
America, until we stopped to investigate the four-foot python on the
road ahead of us.
Turns out pythons don't much like having their tail grabbed. And who
can blame them, really? I should have known better. Steve Irwin has
much to answer for.
(No, actually it just slithered out of my grasp and quickly away.)
Well, I must away, to Brisbane and then a week in Cairns, where I
intend to live on a boat for a few days of diving, then do some sea
kayaking and rainforest trekking. Then I may head up to Papua New
Guinea to climb a mountain. Because it's there, of course. Why else?
Hope y'all're doing well. Write back, it's good to hear from ye.
Faster, higher, stronger...
It is with great reluctance that I leave Byron Bay. This is the
chilled-out kind of beach town where people come for a day and stay for
a month, and I've been here only a week. But verily it is one of life's
great truths: you can live in a giant covered wagon for only so long
before it's time to move on. And so in an hour's time I'll be on a bus
to Queensland and the North.
Understand that I was only staying in the giant wagon because the giant
teepee was full. Accomodation at the Arts Factory Lodge is a wee bit
idiosyncratic. It's a good place, though, in a good town, with all
kinds of things to do. In the last week I've been horseback riding,
surfing, mountain biking, scuba diving (twice), and trapezing -- yes,
trapezing -- and I still feel like I've been extremely lazy. In a good
way.
It turns out I'm not a natural surfer. After a few hours of patient
training I managed to wobble around in front of a few baby waves, but
Zonker Harris I'm not. I am pleased to report that the trapezing came
easier, and I was doing knee-hang catches and backflip dismounts like I
was born to it -- maybe it's not too late to run away and join the
circus after all.
But enough about me, let's talk about Oz.
The funny thing about Australia's east coast is that if you close one
eye and squint with the other it looks a whole lot like California;
green mountains, golden beaches, sunshine and surf hippies, wine
regions, etc. It would be easy to believe, riding the bus through New
South Wales and looking out the window, that you're in some
particularly beautiful part of California. (All the country here is
particularly beautiful.) But you would know, somehow, if you looked
hard enough, that it's not; maybe because you'd realize that half the
plants and trees are species you'd never seen before last week, or
maybe because you see a kangaroo by the side of the road.
Roos are just one step up from vermin in Oz. Like baboons were, in
Africa. Funny ol' world.
Another example: I went horseback riding a week ago -- and, despite it
being my first time on a horse in fifteen years, with more trotting and
cantering over rough rainforest tracks than I had expected (actually I
had expected none) I was still able to walk the next day -- and the
road up to the ranch could have been almost anywhere in Canada or
America, until we stopped to investigate the four-foot python on the
road ahead of us.
Turns out pythons don't much like having their tail grabbed. And who
can blame them, really? I should have known better. Steve Irwin has
much to answer for.
(No, actually it just slithered out of my grasp and quickly away.)
Well, I must away, to Brisbane and then a week in Cairns, where I
intend to live on a boat for a few days of diving, then do some sea
kayaking and rainforest trekking. Then I may head up to Papua New
Guinea to climb a mountain. Because it's there, of course. Why else?
Hope y'all're doing well. Write back, it's good to hear from ye.
Faster, higher, stronger...
