I spotted a gorgeous brown eyed girl in byron bay at the Art's Factory hostel. She had a bunch of beads dangled over her legs and was trying to get them straightened. "Ah, I hate these beads, they are so annoying." She cried to nobody in particular.
That voice! You could tell she was crazy at once and it wasn't just the Canadian accent. I'd heard that voice floating around the hostel, always uttering random things at high volumes.
"Just take the beads off if they are so annoying." I flirted a little.
"I can't. I love beads so much! And their connected to my bikini, so I'd be naked if I took the beads off. Do you like apples?"
"Uh, apples are good."
"Apples are great! There are two good things in this world, apples and puppies. Did you go to the toga party? I was throwing apples at people."
"If you love apples so much, why are you throwing them at people, plus, apples are expensive. How could you afford to just throw them around?"
"Uh, cause I love apples! I'm an apple terrorist. Do you like my hat?"
"It is a bit emo."
"Well yes, you should where it. You should become an emo, or an emu. Ok emu! You smile too much. Start looking sad you emu. Apples!"
She seemed genuine. I really don't think she was just acting completely nuts. This was the real deal. That scared me a little.
"This is actually my boyfriends hat!"
She had a boyfriend? Who could possible handle this woman? Now, she was gorgeous, but her attention span was shorter than a chinchilla's.
We "talked" a while longer. I more said things to her and was answered back with random non-sequitors. Every time I made a joke, she would utter something like, "Oh my god. You aren't allowed to talk to me anymore! I have to go away. You are just too funny to talk to. And so happy. Sadden up you emu. I need some apples."
Wow. If only I could have had a full transcription of our little conversation. She seemed nice enough though. Everyone collectively disliked her, but we were all too afraid to admit it.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Cairns..so far
I arrived in Cairns late Thursday night and it has been quite disappointing. There really isn't anything to do here and the town doesn't have that relaxed atmosphere of Byron Bay that seemed to lend itself so well to inactivity. There are beaches everywhere, but you can't swim in them. During the wet season, the water is filled with box and blue bottle jellyfish. Once the rain stops, the deadly and very aggressive salt-water crocodiles take over the ocean waters. Therefore, we are reduced to sitting in swimming pools near the ocean, constantly being teased by the waters of the Pacific.
Cairns is a huge party town. Most stay out late, drinking at one of the 40 hostels, copious nightclubs, or scattered pubs about the town. The hungover day that follows is spent sleeping of lounging by the pool. The extreme temperatures and humidity real kill the desire for any activity.
The main draw of the town is its central location for exploring North Australia's dense rainforests and it lies right in the heart of Australia's greatest tourist attraction, The Great Barrier Reef. The town's entire economy is driven by drinking and diving. It is too bad that diving gives me minor panic attacks, because I am in the best place in the world to do it. Thankfully snorkeling is a perfectly acceptable alternative.
Currently, I am impatient waiting for Eline and Mirte to arrive from Darwin. Yesterday, I finally received word of their impending arrival. Friday is the day. Once Friday comes, the active part of my travels will begin. There will be snorkeling, sailing, lots of hiking and camping, and of course the unavoidable fruit picking. So far the next few days, I will sit by the pool and finally begin to digest the one book in my bag that requires copious amounts of time and concentration: The Brothers Karamazov by Fydor Dostoyevsky. Then at night in the true Russian fashion, I'll have loud boisterous conversations at a pub someplace. My time will be filed with fun and extreme existentialism.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Brisbane Part 2
(good news, this is a current blog! Now you can see where I'm at in real time.)
Brisbane has not proven to be too much different than the first time I visited. Really, this is quite a boring city. I just don't like it much. On the plus side, it does have karaoke most days of the week.
These last few days, I've been hanging with an actual friend I met while in Mackay. Oh, how refreshing it is to spend time with somebody I already met. Nell thankfully has great tastes in movies, books, and music, so I've never been at a loss for things to discuss.
I went with her and her brother to the Gold Coast. We hit up an amusement park, but the lines were so long, we barely got to go on any rides. We really didn't do too much for the week. I spend some time with her and her friends Deeann and Aaron, both of whom were really fun. We watched a lot of movies.
Nell has proven to be a good friend with whom I really hope to continue keeping in contact after my travels are done. Since I will be traveling through her hometown of Mackay in a month or so, I'll get to see her again before I go home. Ah the the joys of an actual friendship, not just a filling time with someone else at a backpackers. Aussies are lots of fun and I'm glad to finally spend some time with a person that is more like my friends back at home.
It was a bittersweet visit. I'd like to take back my previous comments about not needing to spend time with real friends. Really, that was just a rationalization. Now spending a good week with somebody whose company I actually enjoy, I really how lonely i was. I'm writing this in the airport, waiting for my flight to Cairns and I'm quite sad. For the last month, I've had my blockers on, really not allowing myself to actually befriend anyone. What's the point anyway? And now I've finally let someone in, it is sad to think that I will probably see her only one more time in my life. This also makes me think of the the other friends I've made here as well. I may only see Jess, Jonathan, Em, Faith, Glen and others one more time in my life. This isn't even counting those I may never see again. I'm glad I will get to spend some time with Les and Sharon back in Broken Hill before I head home. Simply put though, I'm a bit unhappy at the moment. I guess I still have valuable lessons to learn on my travels.
Brisbane has not proven to be too much different than the first time I visited. Really, this is quite a boring city. I just don't like it much. On the plus side, it does have karaoke most days of the week.
These last few days, I've been hanging with an actual friend I met while in Mackay. Oh, how refreshing it is to spend time with somebody I already met. Nell thankfully has great tastes in movies, books, and music, so I've never been at a loss for things to discuss.
I went with her and her brother to the Gold Coast. We hit up an amusement park, but the lines were so long, we barely got to go on any rides. We really didn't do too much for the week. I spend some time with her and her friends Deeann and Aaron, both of whom were really fun. We watched a lot of movies.
Nell has proven to be a good friend with whom I really hope to continue keeping in contact after my travels are done. Since I will be traveling through her hometown of Mackay in a month or so, I'll get to see her again before I go home. Ah the the joys of an actual friendship, not just a filling time with someone else at a backpackers. Aussies are lots of fun and I'm glad to finally spend some time with a person that is more like my friends back at home.
It was a bittersweet visit. I'd like to take back my previous comments about not needing to spend time with real friends. Really, that was just a rationalization. Now spending a good week with somebody whose company I actually enjoy, I really how lonely i was. I'm writing this in the airport, waiting for my flight to Cairns and I'm quite sad. For the last month, I've had my blockers on, really not allowing myself to actually befriend anyone. What's the point anyway? And now I've finally let someone in, it is sad to think that I will probably see her only one more time in my life. This also makes me think of the the other friends I've made here as well. I may only see Jess, Jonathan, Em, Faith, Glen and others one more time in my life. This isn't even counting those I may never see again. I'm glad I will get to spend some time with Les and Sharon back in Broken Hill before I head home. Simply put though, I'm a bit unhappy at the moment. I guess I still have valuable lessons to learn on my travels.
Life Lessons in the land of lost souls
To put this all simply, I have been pretty generally unhappy since I've graduated from college. Until that point, I had a very concrete, achievable goal that I put all my mental power into completing. Once I reached that goal, I had a hard time finding purpose in my life.
First, I dedicated all of my focus onto my job, hoping this would lead me on to something greater. Eventually, it proved to be a bit of a dead-end job and was frankly, a bit below my abilities. I enjoyed the job, but I wasn't finding all validation for my life that I was hoping to find.
Next, I threw myself emotionally deeper into my relationship with Manda. Getting married seemed like the perfect goal. I would let love be the power to validate my life after school. After another year of this, I realized that I was not even concentrating on my own life at all, but living my life through another person.
My next big plan was to completely overhaul my life. Instead of just letting Jess and I go our own separate ways, I decided that no, dang it, I'm moving to Australia. I harvested in myself a strong anti-American sentiment. Obviously, my life was not happy because I just wasn't living in the right country. Plus, with a great girl on my side, how could I not be happy? Well, we all know how that turned out.
After that, I decided to travel. Seeing the world is great goal, plus it is a great distraction from the loneliness of a tough breakup. For a while, this worked. I was meeting new people, seeing new things, and facing new challenges everyday. Even though I was enjoying myself, it still wasn't providing the answers I needed to really give my life meaning.
Then I stumbled into the vast caldera surrounding Mt. Warning. Maybe it was the excessive amounts of time alone with my thoughts. Maybe it was the marathon conversations with the weird new age hippies. But maybe it was something more powerful, something unexplainable. Whatever the cause, I suddenly became very content with my life, including my four years of mistakes and soul searching after school.
I settled my issues with love. Really, who cares that I'm starting from scratch again at age 25 after five years of unhealthily serious relationships. I still learned things from them and had some amazing times. I'm still very young. My father didn't even meet my mom until he was 40! Plus, I never really learned to have a casual relationship anyway. I've stayed with every girl I've ever dated for at least a year and a half. As long as they made me happy in the moment, that is what really matters: relationships don't need direction.
I realized that it doesn't matter what I do for work, as long as I'm happy doing it. Honestly, I really enjoyed working at Cosi. I have enjoyed every job I've ever done. That's just the way I am. No, it didn't pay much, but I obviously made enough; this is proven by ability to even afford this trip and the excessive size of my IRA. Although, I have had quite a leg up by all the financial help I've received to pay for college. Seriously, thank you to those who've invested in my education. I won't name names; you know who you are and it is much appreciated.
I have an amazing, loving family. I love everyone to death. I also have some great friends as well. Even though I've not seen many of them for a long time, it still feels great to know that they are there for me no matter what. This is why I can never move to Australia, as much as I love it here. The US is not perfect, but I can't erase the fact that it is home.
Finally, I realized that I love traveling. Seeing this country, although not always easy, has proven to be so rewarding; I cannot even begin to put into words how many positive lessons I've learned from this trip. Since I'm young and few obligations in life, I will continue travelling off and on for the next couple of years. I'll regret it if i don't. My next plan is to work for a year, then travel to South Asia for a few months, starting in Sri Lanka, up through India and Nepal, then on to Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, and if I can find the bravery, Burma, finally ending my trip with a visit to Fai in Hong Kong.
I've started writing excessively as you all can see by the pages upon pages I've posted on my blog. For some reason, I just started feeling inspired in that caldera. I made a list of small goals and things I'd like to do in my lifetime (currently I'm at only 36). Goals don't always have to be as huge as marriage, children, and the completion of college, they can be small things, such as just getting to know yourself better or a constant push for the betterment of yourself. Life is just a collection of experiences and as long as you allow yourself to learn and even just notice these experiences, that is all the "direction" and validation for life a person really needs.
My life hasn't been perfect, none are, but it has been pretty dang good. I finally realized that I wasn't unhappy for these past four years, I was just analyzing my life in the wrong way. I've learned things, even if they weren't in a classroom. I have fun everyday. It really doesn't matter that I've had two failed loves. I've been aware of the answer for a long time, but it wasn't until I was in Murwillumbah that I was able to allow my soul to accept it. In my newly found happiness, I started noticing the sky again; the simple beauty that I take for granted everyday. Sunsets have become one of my favorite things again.
A couple days after my enlightenment, I was relaying my experiences and lessons from my ten days in he caldera to Donna in Bellingen and she told me something quite fascinating. Apparently, the aboriginals hold the caldera around Mt. Warning as one of their most sacred places in all of Australia. Women are forbidden to gaze upon the mountain. They believe the caldera has the spiritual power to draw people with unbalanced souls and it has the mystical ability to help people find themselves and achieve spiritual balance. They named the area Murwillumbah, or "place of lost souls" (sadly, my further research into this has actually translated it as "camping place". I like Donna's incorrect translation better.) This is why backpackers, hippies, and artists are so attracted to Byron Bay. I mean honestly, is there any better symptom of spiritual imbalance than running away from home for an extended time? I typically don't believe in such things, but given my experiences, I admit it is a little weird.
First, I dedicated all of my focus onto my job, hoping this would lead me on to something greater. Eventually, it proved to be a bit of a dead-end job and was frankly, a bit below my abilities. I enjoyed the job, but I wasn't finding all validation for my life that I was hoping to find.
Next, I threw myself emotionally deeper into my relationship with Manda. Getting married seemed like the perfect goal. I would let love be the power to validate my life after school. After another year of this, I realized that I was not even concentrating on my own life at all, but living my life through another person.
My next big plan was to completely overhaul my life. Instead of just letting Jess and I go our own separate ways, I decided that no, dang it, I'm moving to Australia. I harvested in myself a strong anti-American sentiment. Obviously, my life was not happy because I just wasn't living in the right country. Plus, with a great girl on my side, how could I not be happy? Well, we all know how that turned out.
After that, I decided to travel. Seeing the world is great goal, plus it is a great distraction from the loneliness of a tough breakup. For a while, this worked. I was meeting new people, seeing new things, and facing new challenges everyday. Even though I was enjoying myself, it still wasn't providing the answers I needed to really give my life meaning.
Then I stumbled into the vast caldera surrounding Mt. Warning. Maybe it was the excessive amounts of time alone with my thoughts. Maybe it was the marathon conversations with the weird new age hippies. But maybe it was something more powerful, something unexplainable. Whatever the cause, I suddenly became very content with my life, including my four years of mistakes and soul searching after school.
I settled my issues with love. Really, who cares that I'm starting from scratch again at age 25 after five years of unhealthily serious relationships. I still learned things from them and had some amazing times. I'm still very young. My father didn't even meet my mom until he was 40! Plus, I never really learned to have a casual relationship anyway. I've stayed with every girl I've ever dated for at least a year and a half. As long as they made me happy in the moment, that is what really matters: relationships don't need direction.
I realized that it doesn't matter what I do for work, as long as I'm happy doing it. Honestly, I really enjoyed working at Cosi. I have enjoyed every job I've ever done. That's just the way I am. No, it didn't pay much, but I obviously made enough; this is proven by ability to even afford this trip and the excessive size of my IRA. Although, I have had quite a leg up by all the financial help I've received to pay for college. Seriously, thank you to those who've invested in my education. I won't name names; you know who you are and it is much appreciated.
I have an amazing, loving family. I love everyone to death. I also have some great friends as well. Even though I've not seen many of them for a long time, it still feels great to know that they are there for me no matter what. This is why I can never move to Australia, as much as I love it here. The US is not perfect, but I can't erase the fact that it is home.
Finally, I realized that I love traveling. Seeing this country, although not always easy, has proven to be so rewarding; I cannot even begin to put into words how many positive lessons I've learned from this trip. Since I'm young and few obligations in life, I will continue travelling off and on for the next couple of years. I'll regret it if i don't. My next plan is to work for a year, then travel to South Asia for a few months, starting in Sri Lanka, up through India and Nepal, then on to Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, and if I can find the bravery, Burma, finally ending my trip with a visit to Fai in Hong Kong.
I've started writing excessively as you all can see by the pages upon pages I've posted on my blog. For some reason, I just started feeling inspired in that caldera. I made a list of small goals and things I'd like to do in my lifetime (currently I'm at only 36). Goals don't always have to be as huge as marriage, children, and the completion of college, they can be small things, such as just getting to know yourself better or a constant push for the betterment of yourself. Life is just a collection of experiences and as long as you allow yourself to learn and even just notice these experiences, that is all the "direction" and validation for life a person really needs.
My life hasn't been perfect, none are, but it has been pretty dang good. I finally realized that I wasn't unhappy for these past four years, I was just analyzing my life in the wrong way. I've learned things, even if they weren't in a classroom. I have fun everyday. It really doesn't matter that I've had two failed loves. I've been aware of the answer for a long time, but it wasn't until I was in Murwillumbah that I was able to allow my soul to accept it. In my newly found happiness, I started noticing the sky again; the simple beauty that I take for granted everyday. Sunsets have become one of my favorite things again.
A couple days after my enlightenment, I was relaying my experiences and lessons from my ten days in he caldera to Donna in Bellingen and she told me something quite fascinating. Apparently, the aboriginals hold the caldera around Mt. Warning as one of their most sacred places in all of Australia. Women are forbidden to gaze upon the mountain. They believe the caldera has the spiritual power to draw people with unbalanced souls and it has the mystical ability to help people find themselves and achieve spiritual balance. They named the area Murwillumbah, or "place of lost souls" (sadly, my further research into this has actually translated it as "camping place". I like Donna's incorrect translation better.) This is why backpackers, hippies, and artists are so attracted to Byron Bay. I mean honestly, is there any better symptom of spiritual imbalance than running away from home for an extended time? I typically don't believe in such things, but given my experiences, I admit it is a little weird.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Coff's Harbour
While in Bellingen, I met a friendly middle-aged woman named Donna with whom I shared a great marathon three-hour conversation about life, the universe, everything and Douglas Adams (maybe not the last one.). She invited me to stay with her for a couple of days in the nearby coastal town of Coff's Harbour. She seemed nice enough; I didn't get a creepy dangerous vibe from here, so I took her up on her offer.
Coff's Harbour's big tourist attraction is the appropriately titled Big Banana. The town is one of the biggest producers of bananas in the country, so a giant banana was built on a banana farm. There are banana themed toboggan rides, plantation tours, a gift shop filled with common household items shaped like bananas, and of course a food court serving banana splits, monkey tails, and just plain ol' bananas. The banana I had purchased there may be the best banana I've ever had in my life, though it was probably picked that morning, so this is to be expected. The big banana is only one of many big things throughout Australia, including the giant prawn of Bellina, the giant golden guitar of Tamworth, and the giant pinapple of Caloundra. It is good to know that America isn't the only nation that builds various giant fiberglass and plaster things as tacky tourist attractions in an attempt to draw crowds to little towns. Coff's is a nice surfing town as well that draws many Aussies, since it is completely off the backpacker map.
Donna and I did not do too much. Mostly, we sat around and chatted. Donna was a fascinating woman. I learned her entire life story. Never underestimate the intimacy through near anonymity. I will spare you the details of her life, but suffice it to say that she's had one hell of a life.
I've begun to see the power of micro-friendships, though I've been left with little choice given that it is all I've been able to have on the road. When you break it down, all relationships, no matter the duration, are about two people sharing a moment in time. Even if it is merely a fleeting moment, there is still value to any friendship. I think back to some of the great friendships I've had over the years, such as Nathan, Dan, Becky, April, among others. It is crazy to think that even though I've shared years of time with these people, I've not even spoken to some of them in many months. We shared our moments and moved on. Sometimes the shared moment never ends and you stay lifetime friends, but most of the time, people stay together for convenience. When that convenience is done, we just find new friendships with less effort. This is the sad truth about friendships. These one or two day micro-friendships follow the same trajectory of longer relationships, it is just in a more condensed time. There is the introduction, the exploration of each other or analysis if you want to actually spend time with the person, then there is the exchange of intimacy that leads to a peak, then finally, the separation once the shared time is done. Yeah, real friendships are much better, it gets old to live the entire course of a relationship everyday, but in the end, we still get the same outcome: learning about yourselves and others through sharing company for a certain amount of time. Overall, when traveling around, the need for company and intimacy with another person never goes away, that is often why two people in a brief meeting will get on like they've known each other for years. Donna and I shared a great friendship even though it only lasted for two days. This doesn't make it any less important.
New Agers
One thing about my tour of hippie Australia that I've greatly enjoyed is conversing with the various New Agers that congregate in the region. Now, none have been incredibly crazy or anything. Most have been some sort of Buhdist or western Buhdist hybrid. I've learned various things about myself from these people. For example, an older man, Keith, revealed to me that I had drowned in a previous life. This explains my anxiety attacks when I tried to go diving, as well as my fear of not being able to breathe in tight places.
Another woman made further speculations of my past lives. She did a numerology analysis of my birth date and found I was a 36/9! I forgot what the three means, but the six means that before I can reach the next level of spiritual development, I'd have to settle issues with love. After that, I had to complete the nine, which is very powerful. Apparently, this means that I've journeyed far in my past lives, so if I can ground myself and firmly plant my soul, my soul will be at the end of the line. This is great news!
I received more good news from Donna. Her tarot reading showed that I'm currently at a strong place of creativity in my life. Another card affirmed that my past issues with love may finally be behind me.
No, I don't "believe" in any of this, but I do feel I can take positive things from this. First, the numerology shows that the soul has a journey, a path to follow to become complete. Nothing new really, but the numbers gave me something to focus on. The tarot was positive and reaffirming of my many of the issues I'd been dealing with while traveling. This is the purpose of any spiritual beliefs, be it religion, cards, numbers. Most people need help to focus their spirituality, as long as what they believe does this in a positive way, it has value. Who am I to judge that?
Another woman made further speculations of my past lives. She did a numerology analysis of my birth date and found I was a 36/9! I forgot what the three means, but the six means that before I can reach the next level of spiritual development, I'd have to settle issues with love. After that, I had to complete the nine, which is very powerful. Apparently, this means that I've journeyed far in my past lives, so if I can ground myself and firmly plant my soul, my soul will be at the end of the line. This is great news!
I received more good news from Donna. Her tarot reading showed that I'm currently at a strong place of creativity in my life. Another card affirmed that my past issues with love may finally be behind me.
No, I don't "believe" in any of this, but I do feel I can take positive things from this. First, the numerology shows that the soul has a journey, a path to follow to become complete. Nothing new really, but the numbers gave me something to focus on. The tarot was positive and reaffirming of my many of the issues I'd been dealing with while traveling. This is the purpose of any spiritual beliefs, be it religion, cards, numbers. Most people need help to focus their spirituality, as long as what they believe does this in a positive way, it has value. Who am I to judge that?
Bellingen
While in Murwillumbah, Tassie took us all to see a jazz show in Coolangatta, the south point of the Gold Coast. My original plan was to head north, stay in Surfer's Paradise for couple of days, then meet up with a friend in Brisbane. From Coolangatta however, I could see across the bay to Surfer's Paradise. One look at the endless skyscrapers forced me to head south instead to the tiny town of Bellingen.
People say that there is a weird force that pulls certain people to Bellingen, and I do believe this to an extent, but that may be a product of spending so much time with eccentric new age types. Bellingen is quite odd though. Even though it has a population of merely 2,500 people, many backpackers are drawn to the hostel here to enjoy the quiet mountain community.
I learned of it through word of mouth from other travellers. There are many with whom I can tolerate enough to spend a night of company. All those though that I really liked though have mention Bellingen as a must see. I have to say that I agree.
First off, ti is a small town with a hostel. Cities quickly get old, so small towns are refreshing. Plus, not many 2,500 population towns even have hostels. Despite its size, the town is just plain cool. It is a mecca for artists in Australia who tire of the city life. The population is young and hip, with more artists and musicians per capita than any town I've ever seen. There is live music every night. This is the home of David Helfgott, inspiration for the film Shine starring Geoffrey Rush. It is surrounded by copious rainforest and mountains, with a beautiful clear river bisecting the town. Nearly every one of the five days I spent there included an innertube float down the river.
I was fortunate enough to spend some time with the locals. To overcome my shyness, I just approached a group in true Aussie fashion and had a chat. They were quite impressed; many backpackers don't talk to the locals. I even got the phone number and a date, but the silly woman stood me up! Oh well, she missed out. I don't blame her though, dates with people who will leave in a couple of days anyway aren't too purposeful.
The hostel was comfortable and relaxing. It had free billiards, many tours to the nearby parks, and an ability to attract cool people. This is where I met Donna from Coff's Harbour, who took me in for a couple of days. I also befriended Simon, a sixteen year old gay kid whose parents kicked him upon his coming out. He had been living in the hostel, looking for a job nearby. The upstairs wall was covered (I mean literally covered) with hundreds of tasteful nude photos of various people who've stayed there over the years. Each had a creative way of covering the "naughty bits".
Bellingen doesn't just attract backpackers and artists, but also flying foxes. A small "island" near the hostel for whatever reason is the home of these large, red, fruit bats. A few of us embarked on a hike into their loud forest home on my last day in town. Every tree had copious bats hanging from the limbs. The trail ended after about 500 meters, but we followed an ambiguous trail further into the rainforest. Eventually, we came to nearly impassable bush; this deterred us not. We fought our way through and eventually made our way to the road.
That evening, we sat around and sipped red wine. At sunset, the sky came to life as the 50,000 bats took to the sky for their evening meal. Photos could not capture the wonder of this sight. I only have my pleasant memories now.
Backpacker life: Food
I find the patterns and eating habits of backpackers to be fascinating. No two backpackers eat the same; we all have individual tastes, homelands, and budgets, but there are many common trends to the typical diet.
Some, either cheap, poor or lazy eat the same tasteless, empty-calorie foods. Fifty-cent instant noodles. Random things over toast. Rice and ketchup. I made the last one up, but I have been patiently waiting for this likely combination. Often, these are single traveling men, who either don't know how to cook or would just rather surf than spend any time actually cooking. I see these people and wonder how they still have the muscle structures to carry their backpacks. Most travelers are limited to a strict budget though, so there are many classic inexpensive foods that have been keep college students and backpackers happy for years. A loaf of bread, bag of rice, spaghetti and of the course the supplemental instant noodle packet are essential. As is peanut butter, the perfect nutrient-rich, quick-energy, superfood.
Most seem to eat the best food they can afford in both effort and monetarily. It does take practice to find the balance between cost and quality. My first week was terrible. I had this plan for tasty, yet extremely cheap meals, all costing under $2.00. Just combine what ever sauce packets I could find on sale, half a can of random canned vegetables, a sausage ($2.50 for eight sausages!), with a squirt of ketchup, served over rice. The endless combinations of random sauce packets and canned vegetables would provide the much needed variety in my diet. This plan did not work; every single one I made tasted terrible.
The next week, I took the more common approach of buying cheap fresh vegetables like onions, carrots, and potatoes, then make various curries and stir fries, of course, served over rice. I decided that I could only afford to buy and carry only one spice, curry powder. This was a wise choice. I've found that it is quite versatile. I'm considering putting it on peanut butter toast, just once. Another popular meal that I've not made yet, is a pot of spaghetti, with various meats, vegetables, a jar of marinara sauce. It is best to purchase a small tupperware container and save your leftovers for the next night or even week for some.
Eggs are a great choice of protein; they are inexpensive, but only practical for longer stays. Eggs have the survival rate of a soldier at the battle of Ypres when traveling from town to town. Transporting food also dictates much of the food to purchase. Bulk amounts of food saves money, but you just don't want to carry a five pound bag of basmatti rice, even if you can actually afford to buy basmatti rice. Most perishables must be eaten right away. Many buy day to day, or plan for only three nights, choosing to carry only the overlooked necessities such as salt, pepper, vegetable oil, rice, and some sort of butter substitute.
The hostel kitchen facilities are ofter terrible, complete with all-stick pans surfaces and dull knives. You need to be creative, learn to cook rice without a lid or serve canned soup with a slotted spoon. Typically, only 1/2 to 3/4 of the burners actually function. There will be only one microwave. The toaster will either only cook one side of the bread or burn it to a crisp on the lowest setting. When I see a hostel kitchen, I can see the setting of the televisions next big reality show: Backpacker Kitchen.
Many choose to wave the obstacles of cooking altogether and just eat out, though most only do this seldom as a treat. McDonalds is a classic option. Only $2.00 buys a double cheeseburger. My guilty pleasure is their terrible, yet refreshing tasting fifty-cent ice cream cone. They will always take a credit card, no matter how small the purchase. Asian food is another cheap option, but many would rather just skip the rice for one night. One trick I learned early is to venture to chinatown right at closing time. For just a couple of dollars, they'll give you quite a large container to clean up on their old food, right before it is thrown out. This creates some interesting combinations! A trip to Subway is good way to get a weeks serving of vegetables in one five dollar meal.
Food can often be an overlooked part of our lives. Simply put, it is just hard to feel happy and healthy when you don't eat well. Sadly, this is a difficult to satisfy on the road.
Some, either cheap, poor or lazy eat the same tasteless, empty-calorie foods. Fifty-cent instant noodles. Random things over toast. Rice and ketchup. I made the last one up, but I have been patiently waiting for this likely combination. Often, these are single traveling men, who either don't know how to cook or would just rather surf than spend any time actually cooking. I see these people and wonder how they still have the muscle structures to carry their backpacks. Most travelers are limited to a strict budget though, so there are many classic inexpensive foods that have been keep college students and backpackers happy for years. A loaf of bread, bag of rice, spaghetti and of the course the supplemental instant noodle packet are essential. As is peanut butter, the perfect nutrient-rich, quick-energy, superfood.
Most seem to eat the best food they can afford in both effort and monetarily. It does take practice to find the balance between cost and quality. My first week was terrible. I had this plan for tasty, yet extremely cheap meals, all costing under $2.00. Just combine what ever sauce packets I could find on sale, half a can of random canned vegetables, a sausage ($2.50 for eight sausages!), with a squirt of ketchup, served over rice. The endless combinations of random sauce packets and canned vegetables would provide the much needed variety in my diet. This plan did not work; every single one I made tasted terrible.
The next week, I took the more common approach of buying cheap fresh vegetables like onions, carrots, and potatoes, then make various curries and stir fries, of course, served over rice. I decided that I could only afford to buy and carry only one spice, curry powder. This was a wise choice. I've found that it is quite versatile. I'm considering putting it on peanut butter toast, just once. Another popular meal that I've not made yet, is a pot of spaghetti, with various meats, vegetables, a jar of marinara sauce. It is best to purchase a small tupperware container and save your leftovers for the next night or even week for some.
Eggs are a great choice of protein; they are inexpensive, but only practical for longer stays. Eggs have the survival rate of a soldier at the battle of Ypres when traveling from town to town. Transporting food also dictates much of the food to purchase. Bulk amounts of food saves money, but you just don't want to carry a five pound bag of basmatti rice, even if you can actually afford to buy basmatti rice. Most perishables must be eaten right away. Many buy day to day, or plan for only three nights, choosing to carry only the overlooked necessities such as salt, pepper, vegetable oil, rice, and some sort of butter substitute.
The hostel kitchen facilities are ofter terrible, complete with all-stick pans surfaces and dull knives. You need to be creative, learn to cook rice without a lid or serve canned soup with a slotted spoon. Typically, only 1/2 to 3/4 of the burners actually function. There will be only one microwave. The toaster will either only cook one side of the bread or burn it to a crisp on the lowest setting. When I see a hostel kitchen, I can see the setting of the televisions next big reality show: Backpacker Kitchen.
Many choose to wave the obstacles of cooking altogether and just eat out, though most only do this seldom as a treat. McDonalds is a classic option. Only $2.00 buys a double cheeseburger. My guilty pleasure is their terrible, yet refreshing tasting fifty-cent ice cream cone. They will always take a credit card, no matter how small the purchase. Asian food is another cheap option, but many would rather just skip the rice for one night. One trick I learned early is to venture to chinatown right at closing time. For just a couple of dollars, they'll give you quite a large container to clean up on their old food, right before it is thrown out. This creates some interesting combinations! A trip to Subway is good way to get a weeks serving of vegetables in one five dollar meal.
Food can often be an overlooked part of our lives. Simply put, it is just hard to feel happy and healthy when you don't eat well. Sadly, this is a difficult to satisfy on the road.
Murwillumbah
Murwillumbah (pronounced exactly how it is spelled Mur-will-um-bah) is a place that I hadn't really heard of until I reached Byron Bay, much of this is due to its intimidating spelling. It is a small river town located a little inland, halfway between Byron Bay and the Gold Coast. Oddly enough, despite its scant 7,000 population, it draws a decent amount of travelers. This is due to two things, the nearby Mt. Warning and the YHA in town.I came here because I needed to kill some time until the wet season ends up North. While hiking to the lighthouse in Byron Bay, I saw a mountain in the distance. As happens whenever I see something towering about everything, a deep gravely voice, quite reminiscent of Clint Eastwood plays in my head, "I must climb that." I did a little research, consulted my travel guide and found that there was a YHA with shuttles to the mountain in Murwahambuma, Muywillhumeraa...Murwhiminahbra...
"Murwillumbah?" The transit station woman asked.
"Yeah, that one!"
The next morning, I arrived in the quaint town.
"How much is the shuttle to the mountain?" I asked the hostel owner, a tiny unimposing man with thinning hair.
"It is free, but you have to stay here three nights."
Three nights in this little town? I just wanted to climb the damned mountain and leave.
"What is there to do here in Mul...Millerwil...Murhum..."
"Mur-will-um-bah. You'll fill your days fine. I have a comprehensive book of things to do inside."
Three days in Murwillumbah huh? This turned out to be a happy accident, because Murwillumbah has been one of the highlights of my trip. This is all due to the wonderful owner of the hostel, Tassie. He has been running this little hostel for past 28 years, yet he still has passion for his job. Most hostels provide a bed, kitchen, and common areas for travelers to meet. Tassie provided everything a person would need to enjoy themselves in such a small town: free bike rentals, canoe rentals (actually, they were sea kayaks), free trips to the mountain, and innertubes to float in the river. The greatest of his amenities was the free ice cream at 9PM everyday. Ice cream is not really a practical thing for a freezer deprived backpacker to purchase. On top of that general delight of ice cream, this gave a chance for everyone in the hostel to meet.
The place had a diverse crowd. There a 50/50 split between older and younger travelers. The off-the-beaten-track location weeded out many of the annoying party, surfer crowds that dominate the road, so everyone was laid-back, intelligent, and great conversationalists. Of course, Tassie was there most of the time, joining us in our conversations over red wine. Dad, you would have loved this place.
The town itself was quite nice as well. Like most non-tourist country towns, there was not much to see. Their big "tourist" draw is their public toilets. At one time, young hooligans started littering the city random graffiti. To combat this, the city struck back with a very novel approach, encouragement. Graffiti artists were commissioned to cover various buildings, mostly public toilets, with "tasteful" graffiti. They were reimbursed for the price of the paint and were given a creative outlet for their typically antisocial behavior. The graffiti is nothing special, no budding Banksy's, but it is worth a look. The people are friendly, quite normal rural dwellers, but there is definitely a minor hippie undercurrent. Walking around the town proved a pleasant activity.
Everyday, Tassie lined up various activities for the group. He offered rides to the nearby art gallery (which was closed the one day we had time to visit). On Wednesday night, he took us all to Coolangatta on the south end of the Gold Coast to see a free local ragtime performance. They played me "St. James' Infirmary" by my request :-D. This was a different and refreshing outing. Of course, his best excursion was Mt. Warning.
Mt. Warning used to be one the biggest volcanoes in the southern hemisphere, but after a large eruption and millions of years of erosion, it is not nearly as tall anymore. Compared to the Rockies, it probably wouldn't even be categorized as a foothill, but it was the tallest mountain for many miles around. Captain Cook named it Mt. Warning because of all the dangerous rocky outcroppings of the nearby coast. The caldera left from the eruption is the largest of its kind in the southern hemisphere. Mt. Warning is famous for receiving the first rays of sun on mainland Australia (though Byron Bay likes to argue they are first...the debate continues to this day!) A 3AM, sunrise hike is quite a popular activity, but I chose to pass on this due to the excessive morning clouds this time of year. Most morning, you can't even see the sunrise.
The first couple of days I spend it town were cloudy to even see Mt. Warning at all. We were quite lucky, for the clouds cleared up for the duration of our five hour hike. Tassie had a perfectly timed, prerecorded tour that he played while driving to the base. It was such a clever, yet eccentric idea. He must have done this drive many times to get the timing so right. The view from the top was wonderful. We couldn't quite see the ocean, as many do, but the entirety of the giant caldera was visible. There are few feelings more wonderful than standing on top of a mountain.
I was sad to leave Murwillumbah, especially since I had finally figured our how say it. Rural Australia is a seldom visited side of this country; I find this sad. The hidden communities such as this have proven to be the most rewarding. Maybe if there were more hostel owners like Tassie, more travelers would discover this world.
Traveling Alone
On the road, there is about a 50/50 split between people traveling alone and with others. I'm not sure which I prefer, both have their advantages.
I love that I have nobody else to worry about when making plans. No compromises at all. I really liked Nimbin, so I stayed an extra night. Byron Bay was great, so I added a few more days. I think I fancy a hike today, so all I have to do is take a bus to a nearby National Park and have my hike. It is just awesome to be able to do whatever I want.
Traveling alone really forces me to be more extroverted. Most readers of this blog know me pretty well, so they may find the idea of me be introverted a little surprising, cause I just talk people's ears off. If I don't know someone though, I get very shy. While traveling alone, I have two choices really, approach strangers and talk to them, or sit by myself. Let's just say that many will be shocked by how much I've changed in this department.
At the same time, traveling alone gets lonely after a while. You meet somebody one day, then one of you moves on. Now I've have some great two-day friendships, but it gets a little old having to meet somebody new everyday. This is so bad, many backpackers don't even exchange names until a good hour into a conversation. There is just no point. That nice brown-eyed girl from Germany is good enough for the type of relationships you form on the road. There is no greater feeling than bumping into somebody you've met already. Familiar faces are nice.
Food can be quite expensive when you are alone. You make a curry, but you can't eat it all. Yeah, you can save it as a leftover, but if you are leaving the next day, the curry will go off in transit. Milk? No point.
In a few weeks though, I will start traveling with the Dutch Duo, Eline and Mirte. That will be nice for a change. I'm glad I'll get to see both sides of the traveling coin.
I love that I have nobody else to worry about when making plans. No compromises at all. I really liked Nimbin, so I stayed an extra night. Byron Bay was great, so I added a few more days. I think I fancy a hike today, so all I have to do is take a bus to a nearby National Park and have my hike. It is just awesome to be able to do whatever I want.
Traveling alone really forces me to be more extroverted. Most readers of this blog know me pretty well, so they may find the idea of me be introverted a little surprising, cause I just talk people's ears off. If I don't know someone though, I get very shy. While traveling alone, I have two choices really, approach strangers and talk to them, or sit by myself. Let's just say that many will be shocked by how much I've changed in this department.
At the same time, traveling alone gets lonely after a while. You meet somebody one day, then one of you moves on. Now I've have some great two-day friendships, but it gets a little old having to meet somebody new everyday. This is so bad, many backpackers don't even exchange names until a good hour into a conversation. There is just no point. That nice brown-eyed girl from Germany is good enough for the type of relationships you form on the road. There is no greater feeling than bumping into somebody you've met already. Familiar faces are nice.
Food can be quite expensive when you are alone. You make a curry, but you can't eat it all. Yeah, you can save it as a leftover, but if you are leaving the next day, the curry will go off in transit. Milk? No point.
In a few weeks though, I will start traveling with the Dutch Duo, Eline and Mirte. That will be nice for a change. I'm glad I'll get to see both sides of the traveling coin.
Byron Bay
(Hello All! These next few posts are very very outdated, up to three weeks! Will try to catch up to my current situation soon.)
I love this little town. It is a beautiful subtropical surfer town just two hours south of Brisbane. It is completely surrounded by short green mountains. Once it was a hippie town, and still is in a way, but it is much more subdued these days. There is still a gypsy market selling all sorts of rugs and hemp goods and of course a drum circle. Even though 50% of the population is travelers, it doesn't feel too touristy. There is no McDonalds's, just a subway and lots of quaint markets and cafes. Overall, the general atmosphere of the town is chill.
On my first day, I got off the bus, checked into my hostel, then started searching for a job. I could tell in five minutes that I would want significantly more time here than the three nights I'd booked. I quickly made arrangement to book up a week here. In the end, I had to stay in four different hostels, one of which was in the nearby town of Nimbin; this place is that popular. Despite dropping off numerous resumes, I was unable to find a job.
The beach here is amazing. The texture of the sand is like flour! When you walk, it squeaks. So, many of my days were spent just squeaking around, watching surfers, swimmers, and beautiful sunbathers.
Past the beach is the Byron Bay lighthouse, which is located on a point that is the single most easterly place on mainland Australia. The view was amazing! The hike back goes through a small rainforest area. I enjoyed this 7km hike so much, I did it three times.
I would have loved to have stayed longer here, but everybody who comes here wishes to stay longer. It is not uncommon for people to come for a week and stay for six months. I can see why. So far, this has been my favorite place in the east.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Nimbin aka Simulacrum
Simulacrum (Sim`u*la"crum\, n.; pl. Simulacra. [L. See Simulate.]) A likeness; a semblance; a mock appearance; a sham; -- now usually in a derogatory sense.
Byron Bay is a lovely city that likes to project a "hippie" image. In reality though, it is just a laid back party town. It is also quite popular. After one day here, I knew my three nights would not be enough. Sadly, I could not find accommodation for Wednesday night. Therefore, I booked a night at the nearby community of Nimbin. I didn't realize what I was signing on to.
As much as Byron Bay like to project their hippie image, Nimbin is where the real hippies reside. Most of the tour advertisements use words and phrases like "trippy" and "Best music of any Nimbin tour". After thirty seconds in town, I could see why. Thirty seconds was the total amount of after stepping of the bus to be offered marijuana for sale. The town smelled like pot. People were pulling bongs on the picnic tables. Everyone had a joint in their hand. The street was littered with shops selling patchwork pants, hemp sarongs, and quite delicious looking baked goods. The town hypes itself as a "living museum". Most of the locals were either long-haired, bearded stoners or chilled out aboriginals. The town is one giant flyer for marijuana reform laws. Every year, there is a "mardi-gras" (as you'd expect, it is in may? Eh, let 'em be, any tuesday can be fat tuesday for them.), a giant festival right at "harvest", where all the hippies get together and talk about how stupid it is that pot is illegal. The police make a few token arrests now and then and basically make sure there are no harder drugs going on in town.
The whole things started in 1973, with the Aquarius Festival, a congregation of hippies in the woods. As one would expect when you put a whole bunch of nature loving potheads in one of the most beautiful, lush green places in the whole country, they never left. The hippies started buying all the surrounding lands, using the neverending growing season to become subsistence farmers. They lived by the doctrine, "Peace, love and brown rice." Pot growing and smoking was just a part of their lifestyle. I'm not too sure when the tourists started coming, but now tourism is big business for the town of less than 1,000 people. The biggest industry in town though, is pot selling. Despite the small population, the money generated by the list community is in the high millions. People staying in Byron Bay drive out to Nimbin to buy their weekly supply, then drive back home. As much as the government wants to clean it up, they can't. Nimbin doesn't have much except for gorgeous scenery. You kill the drug sales, then the entire economy of the area falls apart and everyone goes on welfare, costing the government lots of money. It is actually odd that the locals are such advocates of decriminalization, because it would take away most of the towns income. The tourists would stop coming and the most of the disproportionate number of shops and cafes in the small town would go out of business. It is a very surreal place, a simulacrum perhaps.
I stayed in the nearby hostel, a rustic, yet surprisingly nice place. It had a pool, a tepee, and lots of random sitting areas, all of it outside. The majestic Nimbin rocks could be seen anywhere from the hostel. I took one look and decided to stay an extra night. After over a week in cities, I felt a lovely two days in the wilderness would be great. I spend three days with great company, great scenery, and great conversation.
I met an Australian/American woman who was telling me how hard it is to get her American husband moved to Australia. It was a quick eye-opener to the trials I would have had to face with Jess if we stayed together. I actually met quite a few Americans there. We just sat back, talked about good beer, music, and life. For over the last year, I've spent so much time thinking about how I wanted to move here, become an Australian. After spending some time with really cool Americans, I suddenly remembered all the things I do love about American. It is very easy to demonize the United States. Being subtracted from the people and the life there, all I had to look back to was the identical blocks of stores, the urban sprawl, the suburban wasteland, the government. Really though, the live back home is good. As much as I've been living and loving Australia, I've not been living the real Australian life; I've been living in simulacrum, stuck in a life that is too real to be real. The backpacker life is really a joke in a way. Everyone is doing the same things. Everything is staged; you either go North or South, stopping at the same places. You do a little harvest work. You drink a bunch of box wine. You walk around in your aviator style sunglasses. It is so disingenuous. At some point, you have to wake up and real life starts, the simulacrum dies.
I walked to town my second night there, thinking that it much be a really cool place at night. Alas, the streets were deserted. No hippies twirling around, arms outstretched, staring at the moon. No drum circles. Nothing "hippie" at all. Instead it was just a normal small town; well not necessarily normal, it did have a strange vibe to it. The locals were hanging out at the one cafe still open, not clad in brightly colored homemade dresses, but normal clothes. The teenagers were chatting, sitting on their bicycles, doing their teenager thing. The adults were clean-shaven and short-haired. The day was over, the curtain had closed. The simulacrum put on the shelf until another busload of backpackers arrive the next morning. Real life had begun.
On my way home the next afternoon, we passed a few quaint little hippie towns, where the townspeople really did live a communal life. Churning butter to sell at co-ops and living off the land, the people still espoused the true doctrines of the hippie lifestyle. A joint to them was merely a way to unwind in the breathtaking countryside. This is what Nimbin was before it became a simulacrum. I wondered how long it would take for this place to become the new Nimbin, how long before Nimbin gets its first McDonald's, or how long before Byron Bay builds high rises like those of Surfer's Paradise to the North. It was at this moment, in the microscopic town of Uki, New South Wales, that I finally sobered up the idea of moving to Australia. As much as I hate the commercialization of the world, the identical blocks of stores, the urban sprawl, the cookie-cutter suburban wasteland, at least it is honest about its lack of soul. Everywhere suffers from excessive consumerism, it just takes different forms. If the hippies sell out, anybody will sell out. That's real life. Anyone who disagrees is still trapped in their own simulacrum.
Byron Bay is a lovely city that likes to project a "hippie" image. In reality though, it is just a laid back party town. It is also quite popular. After one day here, I knew my three nights would not be enough. Sadly, I could not find accommodation for Wednesday night. Therefore, I booked a night at the nearby community of Nimbin. I didn't realize what I was signing on to.
As much as Byron Bay like to project their hippie image, Nimbin is where the real hippies reside. Most of the tour advertisements use words and phrases like "trippy" and "Best music of any Nimbin tour". After thirty seconds in town, I could see why. Thirty seconds was the total amount of after stepping of the bus to be offered marijuana for sale. The town smelled like pot. People were pulling bongs on the picnic tables. Everyone had a joint in their hand. The street was littered with shops selling patchwork pants, hemp sarongs, and quite delicious looking baked goods. The town hypes itself as a "living museum". Most of the locals were either long-haired, bearded stoners or chilled out aboriginals. The town is one giant flyer for marijuana reform laws. Every year, there is a "mardi-gras" (as you'd expect, it is in may? Eh, let 'em be, any tuesday can be fat tuesday for them.), a giant festival right at "harvest", where all the hippies get together and talk about how stupid it is that pot is illegal. The police make a few token arrests now and then and basically make sure there are no harder drugs going on in town.
The whole things started in 1973, with the Aquarius Festival, a congregation of hippies in the woods. As one would expect when you put a whole bunch of nature loving potheads in one of the most beautiful, lush green places in the whole country, they never left. The hippies started buying all the surrounding lands, using the neverending growing season to become subsistence farmers. They lived by the doctrine, "Peace, love and brown rice." Pot growing and smoking was just a part of their lifestyle. I'm not too sure when the tourists started coming, but now tourism is big business for the town of less than 1,000 people. The biggest industry in town though, is pot selling. Despite the small population, the money generated by the list community is in the high millions. People staying in Byron Bay drive out to Nimbin to buy their weekly supply, then drive back home. As much as the government wants to clean it up, they can't. Nimbin doesn't have much except for gorgeous scenery. You kill the drug sales, then the entire economy of the area falls apart and everyone goes on welfare, costing the government lots of money. It is actually odd that the locals are such advocates of decriminalization, because it would take away most of the towns income. The tourists would stop coming and the most of the disproportionate number of shops and cafes in the small town would go out of business. It is a very surreal place, a simulacrum perhaps.
I stayed in the nearby hostel, a rustic, yet surprisingly nice place. It had a pool, a tepee, and lots of random sitting areas, all of it outside. The majestic Nimbin rocks could be seen anywhere from the hostel. I took one look and decided to stay an extra night. After over a week in cities, I felt a lovely two days in the wilderness would be great. I spend three days with great company, great scenery, and great conversation.
I met an Australian/American woman who was telling me how hard it is to get her American husband moved to Australia. It was a quick eye-opener to the trials I would have had to face with Jess if we stayed together. I actually met quite a few Americans there. We just sat back, talked about good beer, music, and life. For over the last year, I've spent so much time thinking about how I wanted to move here, become an Australian. After spending some time with really cool Americans, I suddenly remembered all the things I do love about American. It is very easy to demonize the United States. Being subtracted from the people and the life there, all I had to look back to was the identical blocks of stores, the urban sprawl, the suburban wasteland, the government. Really though, the live back home is good. As much as I've been living and loving Australia, I've not been living the real Australian life; I've been living in simulacrum, stuck in a life that is too real to be real. The backpacker life is really a joke in a way. Everyone is doing the same things. Everything is staged; you either go North or South, stopping at the same places. You do a little harvest work. You drink a bunch of box wine. You walk around in your aviator style sunglasses. It is so disingenuous. At some point, you have to wake up and real life starts, the simulacrum dies.
I walked to town my second night there, thinking that it much be a really cool place at night. Alas, the streets were deserted. No hippies twirling around, arms outstretched, staring at the moon. No drum circles. Nothing "hippie" at all. Instead it was just a normal small town; well not necessarily normal, it did have a strange vibe to it. The locals were hanging out at the one cafe still open, not clad in brightly colored homemade dresses, but normal clothes. The teenagers were chatting, sitting on their bicycles, doing their teenager thing. The adults were clean-shaven and short-haired. The day was over, the curtain had closed. The simulacrum put on the shelf until another busload of backpackers arrive the next morning. Real life had begun.
On my way home the next afternoon, we passed a few quaint little hippie towns, where the townspeople really did live a communal life. Churning butter to sell at co-ops and living off the land, the people still espoused the true doctrines of the hippie lifestyle. A joint to them was merely a way to unwind in the breathtaking countryside. This is what Nimbin was before it became a simulacrum. I wondered how long it would take for this place to become the new Nimbin, how long before Nimbin gets its first McDonald's, or how long before Byron Bay builds high rises like those of Surfer's Paradise to the North. It was at this moment, in the microscopic town of Uki, New South Wales, that I finally sobered up the idea of moving to Australia. As much as I hate the commercialization of the world, the identical blocks of stores, the urban sprawl, the cookie-cutter suburban wasteland, at least it is honest about its lack of soul. Everywhere suffers from excessive consumerism, it just takes different forms. If the hippies sell out, anybody will sell out. That's real life. Anyone who disagrees is still trapped in their own simulacrum.
Expat
It is hard not to fall in love with this country. The more time I spend here, the more I would love to come back and move here eventually. Australia however, is not too keen on letting people move here, so it isn't really an option anyway. Either way, here is a list of pro's and con's of going expat from the US to Australia.
Pro's
1) The Weather
I can't even describe how perfect the weather is in Australia. In five months, the temperature has barely dipped below 60F. Yeah, it gets really really hot, but the heat is easier to handle. I'm constantly outside, being sweaty, sleeping in no A/C. Australia is just plain hot, but everyone is sweaty and hot. Just drink lots of water and slather on the sunscreen. I doubt I'll ever want to live in a cold place again. There were so many places in just the US that I ruled out, only because of the heat. Honestly, nothing here has been worse than Minnesota summers. Those in Missouri are living in more uncomfortable climate than the 110F days here. Arizona is starting sound really attractive.
2) The People
I love Aussies. They are so laid back, yet hard-working at the same time. Aussies just enjoy life no matter what. Five week vacation always helps. No money? Who cares as long as you can afford food and beer. The sarcastic Aussie humor is hilarious and truly unique. I can't describe it. Check out a show called Rove on youtube; Letterman and Leno have nothing on this guy. "No worries" is Australia's motto. When I go home, I'd like to take some this attitude with me. "G'day" another great motto so to speak. At the bar alone? It takes all of five minutes before you are greeted with a handshake and a smile. I've lost count of the number of people who've invited me to stay with them here. Befriend and Aussie immediately! You'll learn a lot about life.
3) The Lack of Excessive Consumerism
This is the big one for me. Housing developments are rare outside of the main big cities. If a venture capitalist shows up to a farm with a briefcase full of cash, you know what the Aussies do, they shut the door. They'd rather keep their countryside beautiful and their life simple. That is refreshing. People here just aren't that obsessed with money. There are a decent amount of chains, but they haven't totally saturated the economy. I bet Oz is a lot like the US in the early 80's. Not sure though, my memories from that era are quite unreliable and non-existent. (just wanted to throw in that the above is not universal, there are lots of money-obsessed Aussies, but I see it much less here.)
Con's
1)The People
"No worries" gets a little boring after a while. Aussies, please don't take offense to this, but many people I've met here aren't really deep. I don't mean this to be unintelligent; I don't mean simple either. Many Aussies just don't care about really analyzing things. They feel there are more important things to do. I'm an American; our national trait is neurotic. I have to think everything to death. A lot of Aussie get bored with me. My humor doesn't click with many and often my conversations are quite short. Now, I've not however spent too much time with University educated Aussies, so much of this may be based on the small town and blue collar crowd I've mainly met in pubs and whatnot. In general though, I just connect with my fellow Americans better.
2) The Ambiance
BUZZ BUZZ!! CAHHH CAHHH! This is what much of Australia sound like. The flies are horrible. When out in the bush, you have to cover your food in between bites just to prevent the food from being too covered with flies. Flies are everywhere. In your nose, in your eyes, in your ears. You have to have one free hand at all times for waving. Then there are the crows. Everywhere you go, CAHHHH, CAHHH! I just want to hunt them down and strangle them. They are more annoying than our crows, that's for sure. BUZZZ! CAHHHH! It gets old.
3)The Cost
Everything here is expensive, except for wines and houses. 24 beers are $45. A small turkey is $60. A cheap meal out is $15-30. Normal pair of jeans is $100+. It really adds up. My friends and family would be far away, but with five weeks paid vacation, I could visit every year. Only problem $3000 round trip for just the flight. Most jobs pay more here, but it does not make up for the cost.
4) Friends and Family
Yeah, with Facebook, phone, and email, it isn't that hard to be far away, but over a couple of years, it would get very hard. The novelty of a new country will fade away and in the end, I"m just living the same type of life, just much much further from home.
Pro's
1) The Weather
I can't even describe how perfect the weather is in Australia. In five months, the temperature has barely dipped below 60F. Yeah, it gets really really hot, but the heat is easier to handle. I'm constantly outside, being sweaty, sleeping in no A/C. Australia is just plain hot, but everyone is sweaty and hot. Just drink lots of water and slather on the sunscreen. I doubt I'll ever want to live in a cold place again. There were so many places in just the US that I ruled out, only because of the heat. Honestly, nothing here has been worse than Minnesota summers. Those in Missouri are living in more uncomfortable climate than the 110F days here. Arizona is starting sound really attractive.
2) The People
I love Aussies. They are so laid back, yet hard-working at the same time. Aussies just enjoy life no matter what. Five week vacation always helps. No money? Who cares as long as you can afford food and beer. The sarcastic Aussie humor is hilarious and truly unique. I can't describe it. Check out a show called Rove on youtube; Letterman and Leno have nothing on this guy. "No worries" is Australia's motto. When I go home, I'd like to take some this attitude with me. "G'day" another great motto so to speak. At the bar alone? It takes all of five minutes before you are greeted with a handshake and a smile. I've lost count of the number of people who've invited me to stay with them here. Befriend and Aussie immediately! You'll learn a lot about life.
3) The Lack of Excessive Consumerism
This is the big one for me. Housing developments are rare outside of the main big cities. If a venture capitalist shows up to a farm with a briefcase full of cash, you know what the Aussies do, they shut the door. They'd rather keep their countryside beautiful and their life simple. That is refreshing. People here just aren't that obsessed with money. There are a decent amount of chains, but they haven't totally saturated the economy. I bet Oz is a lot like the US in the early 80's. Not sure though, my memories from that era are quite unreliable and non-existent. (just wanted to throw in that the above is not universal, there are lots of money-obsessed Aussies, but I see it much less here.)
Con's
1)The People
"No worries" gets a little boring after a while. Aussies, please don't take offense to this, but many people I've met here aren't really deep. I don't mean this to be unintelligent; I don't mean simple either. Many Aussies just don't care about really analyzing things. They feel there are more important things to do. I'm an American; our national trait is neurotic. I have to think everything to death. A lot of Aussie get bored with me. My humor doesn't click with many and often my conversations are quite short. Now, I've not however spent too much time with University educated Aussies, so much of this may be based on the small town and blue collar crowd I've mainly met in pubs and whatnot. In general though, I just connect with my fellow Americans better.
2) The Ambiance
BUZZ BUZZ!! CAHHH CAHHH! This is what much of Australia sound like. The flies are horrible. When out in the bush, you have to cover your food in between bites just to prevent the food from being too covered with flies. Flies are everywhere. In your nose, in your eyes, in your ears. You have to have one free hand at all times for waving. Then there are the crows. Everywhere you go, CAHHHH, CAHHH! I just want to hunt them down and strangle them. They are more annoying than our crows, that's for sure. BUZZZ! CAHHHH! It gets old.
3)The Cost
Everything here is expensive, except for wines and houses. 24 beers are $45. A small turkey is $60. A cheap meal out is $15-30. Normal pair of jeans is $100+. It really adds up. My friends and family would be far away, but with five weeks paid vacation, I could visit every year. Only problem $3000 round trip for just the flight. Most jobs pay more here, but it does not make up for the cost.
4) Friends and Family
Yeah, with Facebook, phone, and email, it isn't that hard to be far away, but over a couple of years, it would get very hard. The novelty of a new country will fade away and in the end, I"m just living the same type of life, just much much further from home.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Beans and Toast
Brits love their beans, particularly, canned baked beans. When you live in a hostel, you can easily spot the Brits in the morning, sleepy eyed, huddled around the one can opener and toaster, clutching their can of baked beans. The day doesn't start until they get their beloved beans and toast. The standard is four slices, with an entire 8oz can poured on top to create soggy mess of future flatulence.
I can't think of too many things with which I would rather not start my day. I could easily see a perfectly high-potential day ruined by the prospect of the impending stomach symphony.
I asked a Brit once, "so what's with all the beans and toast?"
He just replied, "It is an essential part of the classic breakfast. Why, don't you have beans for breakfast?"
I shook my head. He kindly invited me to give it a shot sometime, so I did. Later that day, I stopped at the supermarket and bought a can of beans to prepare me for the next morning's breakfast.
I thought it would be a quick breakfast to make, but I was proven wrong after waiting in line for nearly five minutes behind four other people with bowls of beans, all staring, transfixed by the glow of the single microwave of the hostel. Then I waited another five for a chance to used the giant 10 slice toaster. Even after 10 minutes of growing anticipatory hunger, I found it to be merely okay. The beans did not improve the toast or vise versa. It was merely some beans on toast.
I don't really know what I was expecting. That the two would form some perfect marriage of flavors and textures. That something as simple as toasted white bread would unlock some previously hidden quality of baked beans. That toast was Britain's culinary equivalent of a quick spritz of lemon juice or shaved truffle?
But no, it was just a filling, cheap staple. I stayed satiated for a long time and did not suffer from terrible gas. I still don't think it will enter my breakfast rotation though.
I suppose every country has their dishes that seem quite odd, even terrible to others from different places. Scotland has haggis. France has escargot. Poland has their entire national cuisine. If America had their equivelent of beans and toast, it would have to be biscuits and gravy. A southern staple, it is dish that can only come from the south.
An Aussie had actually asked me about it recently. He loved the stuff, but was having trouble describing it to his friend. So i gave it shot.
It seemed simple enough. Biscuits...and...Gravy. Yet, both elements are very different from what most foreigners would consider.
"Well, you take a biscuit, but it isn't like what you call a biscuit. It's more of a shortbread and um it's like a scone, but it's soft."
"Is it sweet mate?" he asked.
"No, it tastes like dough, like flour and milk. Then you pour this white, kinda tasteless gravy on top that you make from the sausage fat grease from the bottom of the pan. An there's sausage chunks, uh mince, in it. Then you eat it with eggs."
"And people eat this for breakfast?" The friend was horrified.
Suddenly I realized, how could a person eat such a thing in general, much less for breakfast? Thickened sausage drippings over a flavorless hunk of plain baked dough. I suppose beans and toast doesn't seem so strange when compared to the gut-wrenching horror some call breakfast. Then again, why do I crave it so bad?
I can't think of too many things with which I would rather not start my day. I could easily see a perfectly high-potential day ruined by the prospect of the impending stomach symphony.
I asked a Brit once, "so what's with all the beans and toast?"
He just replied, "It is an essential part of the classic breakfast. Why, don't you have beans for breakfast?"
I shook my head. He kindly invited me to give it a shot sometime, so I did. Later that day, I stopped at the supermarket and bought a can of beans to prepare me for the next morning's breakfast.
I thought it would be a quick breakfast to make, but I was proven wrong after waiting in line for nearly five minutes behind four other people with bowls of beans, all staring, transfixed by the glow of the single microwave of the hostel. Then I waited another five for a chance to used the giant 10 slice toaster. Even after 10 minutes of growing anticipatory hunger, I found it to be merely okay. The beans did not improve the toast or vise versa. It was merely some beans on toast.
I don't really know what I was expecting. That the two would form some perfect marriage of flavors and textures. That something as simple as toasted white bread would unlock some previously hidden quality of baked beans. That toast was Britain's culinary equivalent of a quick spritz of lemon juice or shaved truffle?
But no, it was just a filling, cheap staple. I stayed satiated for a long time and did not suffer from terrible gas. I still don't think it will enter my breakfast rotation though.
I suppose every country has their dishes that seem quite odd, even terrible to others from different places. Scotland has haggis. France has escargot. Poland has their entire national cuisine. If America had their equivelent of beans and toast, it would have to be biscuits and gravy. A southern staple, it is dish that can only come from the south.
An Aussie had actually asked me about it recently. He loved the stuff, but was having trouble describing it to his friend. So i gave it shot.
It seemed simple enough. Biscuits...and...Gravy. Yet, both elements are very different from what most foreigners would consider.
"Well, you take a biscuit, but it isn't like what you call a biscuit. It's more of a shortbread and um it's like a scone, but it's soft."
"Is it sweet mate?" he asked.
"No, it tastes like dough, like flour and milk. Then you pour this white, kinda tasteless gravy on top that you make from the sausage fat grease from the bottom of the pan. An there's sausage chunks, uh mince, in it. Then you eat it with eggs."
"And people eat this for breakfast?" The friend was horrified.
Suddenly I realized, how could a person eat such a thing in general, much less for breakfast? Thickened sausage drippings over a flavorless hunk of plain baked dough. I suppose beans and toast doesn't seem so strange when compared to the gut-wrenching horror some call breakfast. Then again, why do I crave it so bad?
Over-the-counter Narcotics
I've been suffering from a cold for four days. Normally, I just suck it up, drink honey and lemon spiked tea, gargle some salt water, and take it easy for a couple of days. Since I've been travelling though, I'm not so content with spending my precious days in bed. I resorted to over-the-counter medications. The first stuff I bought was finished in two days. I gobbled the pills down every four hours. Never underestimate the power of 100+ degree temperatures, no air conditioning and a cold to make one miserable. Even though I knew the cold was waning (it is easy to tell when it is recession), I feeling too terrible to brave another day cold turkey.
I stopped in a pharmacy here in Byron Bay, told my symptoms to the clerk and was given the best cold medicine for my particular cold. Whatever he gave me had the terrible fake-sudafed (it doesn't work!!), cause it only relieved my conjestion a little bit. There was something else in it though. I noticed it at first after an hour when I started feeling funny, high even. I started grinning and floated around for the next couple of hours...ah. Both Dayquill and its trace amounts of crack and Nyquil with it four shots of whiskey in a tiny little cap make me feel quite drugged out, but this stuff made we want to listen to Dark Side of the Moon.
I returned to my hostel, looked at the packaging and saw the mystery ingredient, Codine. Over-the-counter codine! What an amazing country! Sudafed is banned, so I'm stuck with sub-par nasal decongestants, but I'm allowed a narcotic painkiller without a prescription!?
Of course, one dose was all I needed before my cold let up. On second thought, I do feel a little sniffly. Maybe I'll just have another pill just in case. ;-)
I stopped in a pharmacy here in Byron Bay, told my symptoms to the clerk and was given the best cold medicine for my particular cold. Whatever he gave me had the terrible fake-sudafed (it doesn't work!!), cause it only relieved my conjestion a little bit. There was something else in it though. I noticed it at first after an hour when I started feeling funny, high even. I started grinning and floated around for the next couple of hours...ah. Both Dayquill and its trace amounts of crack and Nyquil with it four shots of whiskey in a tiny little cap make me feel quite drugged out, but this stuff made we want to listen to Dark Side of the Moon.
I returned to my hostel, looked at the packaging and saw the mystery ingredient, Codine. Over-the-counter codine! What an amazing country! Sudafed is banned, so I'm stuck with sub-par nasal decongestants, but I'm allowed a narcotic painkiller without a prescription!?
Of course, one dose was all I needed before my cold let up. On second thought, I do feel a little sniffly. Maybe I'll just have another pill just in case. ;-)
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