Farewell, Old Friend.

25 July 2010

I am sad to report that after two months in Australia on the travel-writing program, I am officially no longer a Sydneysider. Actually, it turns out, I may not have been classified as a SS personality, as I tended to click more comfortably with the rival of the Southern bit, Melbourne. In fact, with my choice of shoe, style, and love of café culture, it seems that I may have been a Melbournian all along.

With that said, it was terribly sad to say “so long” to my sunny friend, Sydney. Sydney has a completely different sort of beauty than any sort of city I’ve ever seen, and although my typical description is “Sydney has magic moments…” I do feel like it was the perfect place for me to soak up the Australian way. Sydney is her own person, with her own style, and the ability to bring out the best of the “no worries” mentality. Her Harbour view is to die for, and that spot by the Opera House is one that will never leave me. That one little corner of the world where the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge outline the sunset into the oceans beyond will always define the beauty I found in my Sydneyside experience, and the joy and completeness I found in being there.

However, with my portfolio finally handed in, my finals and final papers finished, and my two and a half bags (yikes) packed and ready to go, I wanted to end my trip at one of the most legendary cities the world has to offer, in the very bottom of this country that I have come to love and adore: Melbourne, Victoria.

Without question, Melbourne is a mish-moshed, mixed up, marvelous city. Its definition falls somewhere in between the wide, busy streets of New York, the alleyways of Paris, the multiculturalism of London, the antiquity of Rome and Madrid and the funky neo-classical architecture of Brussels. Truth be told, with its reliable trams and funky art displays juxtaposing the glitzy lights of Federation Sqaure, Melbourne (like the rest of her country) isn’t quite sure who she is yet. It’s definitely a city that can buzz with the best of them, but her real charm lies in the hidden nooks that take her dwellers back in time; to a more reserved, retro era.

With a few days to spare before getting back to the States, I joined Annie on the first leg of her big one-month travel adventure to tackle the sights and sounds of Melbourne, starting on Tuesday. After an emotional goodbye with the gang in Sydney and our wonderful teacher, Sharon, Annie and I headed our of our sense of Australian home, and ventured to the other side.

Now, it’s no secret really that Melbournians and Sydnersiders don’t really get along. There seems to be this constant competition between the two, where one tries to “steal the other’s thunder” in all things. I’ve had it described to me like that more than once, and I think it means that Melbourne used to be the immediate capital of all things cool, where the art galleries, movie premieres , government business and financial markets used to thrive in (and represent) Australia. After hosting the Olympics in the 1950s, Melbourne toned down a little, and Sydney stole that thunder in 2001, when were chosen to host the Olympics over the big guy. I think it’s also got to do with the gold rush history, and maybe even that famous Australian egalitarian mentality. Sydney is more about having “no worries”—no class division, no focus on political issues, very easy going state of mind and way of things, while Melbourne is the epitome of the country’s wealth and prosperity. In short, it’s a tale of two cities: one is sparkling and spectacular, and the other, simple and serene. It’s just something to admire and appreciate separately.

Anyway, Melbourne was a huge success for us. Sadly, Amy and Aly had to go back to the States by Friday, and my last Saturday in Australia was spent with my first new friend in Sydney, and someone who has truly become a lovely, wonderful adventure partner, Annie.

Now, there’s a lot to say to preface the sort of day we had, but I’ll try to keep it cool and collected so I can capture the beauty of it all.

First of all, Annie and I rented a car, which is sort of a huge deal for two twenty-one year old girls who come from a country that doesn’t trust you with a rented vehicle til twenty-five. We were both a little nervous, and a little excited to see what was ahead as we headed out to explore Great Ocean Road. Just south of Melbourne, Great Ocean Road stretches for miles along the coast, and it includes some of the most breathtaking views that Australia has to offer. From Day One, we were both dying to see it.

However, did I mention that Australians drive on the left side of the road? Or, that most of the route is over hills and valleys of a National Park that overlook the seaside? Did I mention that I’ve never tackled either of those tasks? Well, I did. We did. And I’m damn proud of us for that.

As the road got smaller and smaller, and our GPS started to lie and invent streets that weren’t there, we navigated ourselves through the long and windy streets and roundabouts through our handy maps and rusty road signs, old school style. And you know what? With two stops for lunch and tea along the seaside towns, Annie and I made the goal that we never thought we would—a place about six hours away, over, under and down, called the Twelve Apostles.

Now, I’m not sure about much of the history on the Twelve Apostles (well, the rock formation…), but I do know that it was utterly, absolutely, without a fragment of a doubt, the best, fitting, most appropriate and right place for me to end my time in Australia.

Around 5 PM, Annie and I emerged from our trusty car, to find the sight overlooking crystally blue water, matched with a golden pink sky that stretches out to meet the water forever and beyond.

As I walked down the rocky path with the other tourists, I started to feel that unexpected heart swell again, the same kind I had long ago at the bottom of an English valley with the sunsetting behind me and a group of 40 American kids would change my life. But it was more than just that re-ignited feeling of serenity, wonder and absorption of being in the midst of something greater than myself. This was not about England at all, this was not about what happened before, what I’d seen before, past experiences, or past figures. This was about Australia— just me and Australia.

This was about me realizing that I came here on a whim and a smirk, and I am leaving this country with a whole new half of myself that I never knew I could have. I am leaving this country with a totally new sense of appreciation for the land, for how the Australian people live on this land, and die by it. They fight to live in it, they fight to survive it, and they love every bloody inch of it. They are their land, and this scene in the middle of nowhere was part of that. This moment on the highlight of Great Ocean Road was about celebrating the freedom, liberty, and beauty of an untouched landscape that held elements and images that were older than every country, every person, every castle and dynasty in the world. This whole trip was about discovering the treasures of a mostly unknown, uncelebrated country that I have been lucky enough to find and explore. This trip was about leaving my elements of comfort, of solace, and even a little pain. This country gave me courage to ride a racehorse down one of the rockiest mountains in Australia, to dive deep into the depths of the Great Barrier Reef, and appreciate the largest living entity in all existence. This country gave me the glittery street lights I needed to keep me in check, but gave the best rewards were when I got pushed out into uncharted territory, and found that I could not only survive, but actually let go, and enjoy myself. I risked being attacked by rare dangerous birds in the wild, being eaten by a shark, falling from a cliff, and even boxing a kangaroo, and I made it. In fact, I made it just fine.

So I guess, this is it. Time to say farewell to what some call a “sunburned country,” but I still call the Wonderful Land of Oz (I even found rainbows, for goodness sake!). So to end the journey, I leave you with one of my favourite pieces of literature that we read in our classes here, by one of my favourite authors of all time.

This was me at the beginning of my time in Sydney:

" In Martin Place, he longed for Westminter, in Sussex Street, he almost wept for Covent Garden and in St. Martin's Lane, at the Circular Quay, he pined for London Bridge. It was all London without being London. Without any of the lovely old glamour that invests London. This London of the Southern hemisphere was all, as it were, make in five minutes, a substitute for the real thing. Just a substitute- as margarine is for butter. He went home pining for England."

And yet, by the end, he writes,

"He had fixed his berths on the Manganui, and would sail away in twenty days. To America — the United States...which seemed to lie next in his line of destiny...[Australia] had a deep mystery for him, and a dusky, far-off call that he knew would go on calling for long ages before it got any adequate response, in human beings. From far off, from down long fern-dark avenues there seemed to be the voice of Australia, calling low.

Yet the day came to go: to give up the keys, and leave the lonely, bare Coo-ee to the next comers. Even the sea had gone flowery again at last…She would leave behind her forever something of herself, in that home. And he knew that one of his souls would stand forever out on those rocks beyond the jetty, towards Bulli, advanced into the sea, with the dark magic of the tor standing just inland. "

For me, Australia will always be there as a place of renewal, a place of exploration, of both soul and soil. I came here with a list of “Things to Do,” and I leave here with notebooks full of things I’ve learned, things I’ve stumbled upon, and things to do next. I love Australia, as a country, as a people, as a concept, as a nation. This journey filled my lungs with fresh air, and brought me back a sense of new life. It made me better, it pushed my limits, it made me whole.

And I, like David Herbert Lawrence, will always feel one of my souls standing forever out on those rocks beyond the jetty…out toward the free Australian sea.

‘Ta, mates, and Happy Travels,

xxx

C.

Hakuna Matata—the problem free philosophy…

Being in Australia for two months, all I can say is that I’ve acquired the very popular phrase: No worries. Not only is it in my vocabulary, but now, it’s in my spirit… and I hope that this mindset will last me the rest of my days.

However, bit by bit, inch by inch, that sinking feeling of stress, of packing, of clearing up and shipping out has brought a sense of worry over my head, even though I would have liked to leave that on the doorstep of Sydney arrival gate, the approaching departure date makes me realise that Australia and I aren’t sure when we’ll see each other again.

So, with these last few days in Melbourne to close my trip in the best way possible, I vow to soak up every minute left in this wondrous country. I promise to take my long black coffees sitting down with a newspaper, to sit in the sunshine for a little in the middle of the day, and to stand at the hand driers for as long as it takes. I promise to smile more, to get lost when I can, and to only drink iced coffees that have a scoop of iced cream in them. I promise to always breathe in the sea air, and look out and over the water with optimism, even if the chance of seeing a whale seems impossible. I promise to take the lessons of Down Under up and over, and to bring the brave new spirit found in being a Sydneysider Stateside, forever and for always.

After all, this is a country where you can find a kangaroo on a beach at sunset, and make friends by sharing an ice cream cone. There are huge rainbows after rainstorms, passion fruits available in almost any sort of food, and magnificent sunsets that take your breath away every day. There are teachers and friends here who support you in your dreams, who push you to be better, and who tell you not to give up, no matter how many times you see 5:30 AM because you’re writing and re-writing and re-writing again. It’s a place where one successful British writer told me, “I came here to make my dreams come true, and they did.”

There have been girls to laugh with, girls to cry with, friends to learn from, and pals to party with, and dance the nights away. It’s been an experience of growing, of learning, of challenging myself to be bigger, better, and brighter. Australia wiped away the scars of my past, and just like in her history, took my imprisoned self, and released her back to life. I’ve explored the depths and heights of Victoria, tasted grapes from the finest wineries in New South Wales, and soaked up the legends and culture that make each region its own.

These are the things I’ll miss, and the lessons I will take home with me, even after my suitcases are unloaded, and my busy Boston life resumes.

In the end, it’s a place where, no matter where you go, or who you’re with, each day is a “G’day.” And after getting used to all this beauty and feeling no worries, how can you just let go?

Here’s to you, Australia. I will always hold you close to my heart with sincere gratitude and fondness forever.

Cheers, mate for the memories, and til we meet again,

‘Ta.

Happy Travels,

xxx

(me and Timon...the man of the Hakuna Matata)

The Great Escape, Under the Sea

Okay, I take back what I said before. I'm still definitely a city girl; but this past weekend, I really needed to get out.

With my travel writing portfolio and 3,000 word literature essay looming behind me on the same due date (THIS FRIDAY!), I started to feel a bit of doom and gloom in Sydney as the rain poured down outside my window, and I sat in a pile of brochures from my two week trip, trying to muster up something to say (3,ooo words worth of something magically journalistic, actually). With my week ending on three hours of sleep in order to catch a 6 AM flight to Northern Australia, I wasn't sure what to expect with four days in Cairns, where the entertainment included a trek through the muddy rainforest with lots of exotic bugs and spiders and lizards and a whole day on the ocean, gulping salt water and avoiding those infamous sharks, jellies and crocodiles. In short, I ran away to danger to avoid my essays. Is this part of the lifestyle choice? I guess I've felt like running away from my work plenty of times, but only in Australia can you run away to Paradise.

With my three friends from the Travel Writing program, Aly, Annie and Rebecca, we took the Tropical North Queensland by storm to explore the heights of the Daintree Rainforest, to the depths of the sea in the Great Barrier Reef.

Using Friday as a catch up day around town, we found our first splash of summerlike sunshine since leavng the US in May, and to put it simply, we spent the day recharging from the week, soaking up the sun, and devouring treats on the Esplanade in Cairns.

By 6:40 AM the next morning, we were outside out Dreamtime Hotel, waiting to be picked up and transported for an hour drive to the Daintree Rainforest. Anticipating a personal, 8 person tour around the Rainforest on a nature walk & kayaking tour, we were pleased to find that once we arrived, there were only four of us, and our own personal Steve Irwin, complete with the huge smile, Australian wit, and khaki shorts.

Throughout the day, Adrian (our tour guide) took us to exotic stops in Daintree, as well as lead us on a nature walk. With his professional opinion (he lives in a house in the rainforest with no electricity), he showed us the colorful flora, and some very unexpected, potentially deadly fauna. For instance, the crocodile.

As we stood on a remote beach by a crystally blue pool of water off a populated walking trail, we searched for washed up coral on the shore. Immediately, as I stepped closed to the water, Adrian yelled from behind me to take a few steps back---very slowly, and not make sudden movement. With a new piece of one-of-a-kind art in my hand, I slowly rose from my croached position and looked up to see a crocodile slowly gliding in the water about 40 ft from where I was. Not nearly as nervous as I should have been, I walked back toward the group, learning my lesson about the danger of Peter Pan's hero. In real life, there's no tick-tock warning. Once your back is turned, you are absolutely unknowingly, and almost certainly, dead meat. I can now tell you from experience, never smile at a crocodile.

But you can't help but smile at a fluffier sneaky creature, the Cassowary.

As we walked along the trails and further into the forest, we were having a nice time looking at a tame little lizzard on a tree, when all of a sudden, Aly pierced the silent contemplation with a scream! Expecting to see, oh, I don't know... a masked murderer (or even scarier--a snake!), we all quickly turned behind us to see this little fellow staring us in the face, point blank. Now, the cassowary is the third largest bird in the world, and according to the Sydney Wildlife center, one of the most dangerous. With one whack with their giant claw, you can be cut in half with no problemo. However, the only time this has happened was when a kid teased one with a baseball bat. We were just four little Americans, armed with lollies in our pockets from the car ride. Interestingly, this was a male cassowary-- a teen coming into maturity after being kicked out of his parent's protection. Steve--I mean, Adrian, told us that this guy's been following tour groups out of loneliness; as mom and dad have left him to find his own territory. Totally unafraid of us, and just looking for some company, the curious bird looked us up and down, squaked a couple of times, and continued his quest for other bird friends, and a plot of land to call his own. Adrian also said he gravitated toward people because we're two legged, too. How cute.

After all this excitement with potential "death by animal" moments, we worked up an appetite, and a need for a bath. Luckily, Adrian knew the perfect spot, and took us to Cooper's Creek, where we swam in a cool creek in the middle of the rainforest, and splashed our fears of almost being eaten and cut in half away. We celebrated our new found Australian friends, and picniced under the leaves of green.

On Sunday, we ditched the bug spray, grabbed our suits and snorkles, and headed to the Great Barrier Reef to spend some time in the sun with a disappearing legend. It's no secret that the Great Barrier Reef is a natural wonder of the world, but it's sadly, vanishing faster than ever before. One guide gave the Reef 20 years to live, which for an 8,000 year old ecosystem is pretty tragic. I was lucky enough to dive into Michaelmas Cay for a start, where I snorkled through to different pockets of fish in school, and got a feel for the life and breath of the coral. A very literal inhale, exhale.

For my first time snorkling out on deep waters, I was enchanted by the world Under the Sea, and the sensation of only being able to hear the sound of my every breath breaking through the layer of water to air. The water was a bit cloudy at Michaelmas, and in truth, I think we just used this as a spring board for the magic that was to come at Hastings Reef. Even though I may never get to see Michaelmas Cay like this again, Fate stepped in to make sure I left a piece of my DNA among the ancient life chain, as a wave hit me smack in the face while adjusting my goggles, and my contact lense drifted somewhere else, and into the world Down Under.

However, I cannot express my delight enough about my experience at Hastings Reef. With some help from some perscription goggles, I saw the beauty of it all, very, very clearly. I've never had an experience like I did that day, and I can't believe what I saw.

Diving deeper beyond my snorkle's range, I swam through the deep blue sea to marvel at the unbelievable color schemes of the most natural and important structure of our history and existence. Forget visiting monuments to the past, swimmig through this part of the Great Barrier Reef was about appreciating life in all different forms, colors, shapes, species and sizes. There were giant clams of violet, azure, and emerald, which camoflauged the matching fish that swam beside it's giant mouth. There were reefs shaped like sticks, reefs shaped like trees, coral shaped like flowers, rocks, and even clouds. It was as if all the beautiful things you could ever imagine in the world came together in one place-- a perfect abyss of decorated gems-- a true treasure trove of beauty--and the building blocks of life.

Although there was a rather big group with us, Annie, Aly, Rebecca and I each had our own private time with a power bigger than ourselves. Again, swimming along the teal hydrosphere of the Coral Sea, all I could hear was the silence of the deep blue sea being against my every human breath--which was only to be broken with munch here and there from the natural inhabitants on a piece of passing Reef.

Just like this guy:

And so sadly, I have stripped off my wetsuit, turned in my goggles, and I'm back to contact leneses and reality. Paradise was found in Cairns, and more imporantly, I think I finally found my peace with the big N. It may not be found in rainy sloshy trips through snowstorms, or by jumping out of planes to strike the molecules of the stratosphere, or even in wrestling crocs, or riding horses through valleys. My appreciation for Nature has finally come to light in the best way possible: through my own discovery of something greater than myself, of something timeless, of something fragile, of something so incredible that I can't put the right words to this page. I found something beyond me under that Sea, and I found it on my own terms. One triumphal connection that's just as natural as can be.

Happy Travels,

xx

Off We Go, and On With the Trip!

I guess you can say I’m sort of a city girl. There’s just something about the sound of my shoes against the pavement (or preferably, the cobblestones), the rush of the darting across the busy streets, the sound of the honks and the thrill of the idea that thousands of others around you are just as exhilarated by the endless opportunities of the day as you are. And, of course, there’s the standard afternoon Americano in a classically chic café to break up the excitement.

However, to fully appreciate who we are, and test our boundries, sometimes a girl’s just gotta get outta town; and in this case, I got way out of town.

In fact, this whole trip to Sydney is based on a two week trip into the small towns of Australia, and the Travel Itinerary took us into the towns that show the heart, history, and heritage of the Aussie people. During the two weeks, we visited 12 towns in 14 days: Braidwood, Beechworth, Benala, Bright Glenrowan Milawa, Omeo, Boydtown, Eden, Tilba, Tilba Tilba, and Bermagui. I’m sure you haven’t heard of any of those places. But frankly, most Australians I’ve encountered hadn’t the faintest idea where they were, either, so “no worries.”

As the bulk of the travel writing program, this trip took eleven college students out of the city of Sydney, and into the small inland towns, where no traffic lights could be found. Saying goodbye to our wireless internet and cell phone reception, we put the fast-paced American kid mentality to rest, and traded our iPhones for a pad and paper to work on uncovering the secrets, the sounds, the sinners and saints of the real towns of rural Australia.

Now, even though the description of the programme says, “From the ocean to the Outback,” we never really hit “The Bush.” I didn’t see any tumbleweeds, but I saw a whole lotta other things you can’t find in Sydney. Because each day was jam packed with things to see and do, stories to find, people to interview, and delights to behold, I will give you a top 5 list of my favorite moments on the way, and I hope that in doing this, you can share in my appreciation of being taken out of my element, and being thrown into a world of investigative journalism, timeless folklore, songlines of the old, and fresh paths of the new people in a very rich, hidden world somewhere Down Under.

1. Feeding the Kangaroos on Pebbly Beach

After being cooped up in the mini-bus for about 5 or 6 hours as we moved toward our first destination, Braidwood, our driver, Sean, tackled the hills and vales that seem to lead to nowhere, and dropped us on a beach that existed beyond a valley that I’m pretty sure no one would be able to find again. With the dirt roads covered in detour signs, and the heights and drops getting bigger and deeper, the bus ride was both thrilling and a bit nerve racking. However, with Sean’s skill, and Sharon, our wonderful professor, and Cal, our fantastic program leader, we arrived on Pebbly Beach to find the surprise of the day: feeding wild kangaroos on an unforgettably gorgeous beach at sunset. Fun facts of the first day: Kangas like ice cream cones. Kangas hop real fast. Kangas have sharp nails. Kangas box you real fast with their sharp nails to enjoy their ice cream cones. However, all and all, we had a perfect ending to the first day with these friendly mascots, and to be up close and personal with such a legendary icon (and with such soft fur!), we couldn’t have been more delighted to be out of the city, and into the real life Australia.

2. The Lolly Shoppe, outside Braidwood.

Old fashioned candy store filled with everything from flying wafers, chocolate covered pineapple and jars that extend to shelves beyond my reach. Oh, and it was connected to a homemade pie shop! Affordable and delectable. Need I say more?

3. Ned Kelly Country: Braidwood, Beechworth Benala, Glenrowan.

For our literature course, we’ve been studying the questionable hero of early Australia, Mr. Edward “Ned” Kelly. “Who?” you may ask; but the story is worth telling, exploring, questioning and retelling throughout the generations as one country discovers the history of their own Robin Hood. During our travels, we went to Kelly’s main land marks for courthouses, battles and brawls that moved Victoria one step closer to freedom. We talked to the locals about the legends and truths, and tried to find out for ourselves which cowboy hat Kelly should eternally wear: the heroic white, or the devilish black. Overall, the landscape sung to tunes and harmonies of the Irish spirit all along the way, and bits and bobs reminded me of a land by the Atlantic Sea, the one of my own roots, as well as many Kellys, Murphys and O’Donnell’s here…

4. Hothham Heights.

The astonishingly gorgeous ride up this unbelievably beautiful mountain would be enough to make anyone with a slight fear of heights squirm…but I made it. Hotham Heights had a ski resort on top, and a whole lotta land underneath. With breathtaking views into the valleys and off the daringly dangerous drops, this two hour journey was the perfect way to start the journey to Eden.

5. Whale Watching in Bermagui

This marked my fourth or fifth whale watch, and my first whale spotting! Hooray! I saw about 6 Humpback whales, a slew of seals, and when we got to the destination of Montague Island, I also saw some penguins, up close and personal! A great way to see the sparkling shores of Australia, and some of its precious wild critters.

Other Highlights:

Visiting the house of the ever-inspiring writer (and one of my personal favorites), D.H. Lawrence. This is where he wrote his book on Australia, “Kangaroo,” which I have found to be unfailingly relatable and enjoyable on this journey Down Under.

The Sea Horse Inn, walking the shores, frolicking in the sands. The pictures speak a thousand words for this luxury hotel situated on a private beach, overlooking the mountains and gems of the Sapphire Coast.

Boydtown and Eden: Also on the Sapphire Coast, just totally impressive views with a mix of nature, history and best of all, relaxation along the way of our rigorous 14 day academic trip. Laugh if you want, but we visited 12 towns in 14 days, and conducted interviews everywhere we went. Scouting for stories, making them work and discovering the secrets of the land definitely entitles us to a sunset on the beach!

And last but not least, sunset in our last town of the trip, Bermagui.

Thanks for reading, and I wish I could do this trip more justice. As I write articles for the stories I found, I would be happy to send some around if you want more of a journalistic approach on the ins and outs of trekking through the nooks and crannies of Eastern Australia.

As Always (and with a renewed love of the land),

Happy Travels,

xxx

Quick Update

Sadly, I left my camera cord back in Sydney, so I won’t be able to upload my pictures from this trip yet (I have taken…probably 500).

However, I just have to say that these last two weeks in the backcountry and small towns of Australia have been nothing short of a dream, and I can’t wait to tell all about it. For the last 11 days, I have been writing, researching, interviewing, creating and writing again, reading again, and delving into all the material from the folklore of the Aborigines to the tales of the hero (?), Ned Kelly, to the stories of the old gold rush, to the stories of killer whales in a land called Eden. With a heavy heart, I say that I am currently in my last stop, about 6 hours from Sydney, and tomorrow we’re going on a whale watch.

Not only have I tried to discover the real voice of Australia, but I’ve been lucky enough to be able to fall into the past, embrace the roots and the times of old, and explore who Australia really is through the sounds and stories of her people.

The writers with me are extraordinary beings, and I can’t wait to see what these talented people put forth in their observations and explorations after our adventure (sadly) ends.

In 11 days, I have observed the pinks, oranges and mint green of a sun set in a winter sky across the blue hue of Australia’s mountaintops. I have spoken with, and interviewed people in nearly 9 towns across the backcountry, trying to uncover their stories and history. I have been to the top of one of the highest mountains here, and have absorbed the pure depth of a valley from a twisting and winding road that leads nowhere but down into more loveliness. I have made good friends in former strangers, absorbed the literature and language of this part of the country, and probably most impressively, successfully handfed a wild kangaroo an ice cream cone (and that was day 1 of the trip).

Here’s to a better update with pictures, and hopes that you enjoy these very special travels to come, as this girl from the smallest state of the Union falls in love with a big country, and continues to discover the hidden treasures of the grand and rich Australian landscape.

Happy travels from an amazing place,

xxx

June 14: World Cup to Whoa Nelly

* TWO WEEKS OVER DUE*

For weeks now in Sydney (and around the world), the buzz has been around the World Cup.

Now, as you may have guessed, I’m not necessarily a sports fan (I own a Red Sox hat…does that count?), but I do enjoy watching other people become enthusiastic about matches, and because Sydney was one of the five countries in the world to host an “official” World Cup celebration in Darling Harbour, I had to go catch this once and a lifetime opportunity.

With the swarms of people, stunning lampposts shaped like soccer balls, and a floating big screen TV (complete with live Aboriginal dancers putting on a jamboree), the Harbour was alive and well with football frenzy, and international intensity.

The opening match between Mexico and South Africa prompted the wave of midnight madness, as lively supporters of both countries were littered in the crowd. The games here are always shown at obscene hours, like 9 PM, 12 AM, 2 AM and 4:30 AM. If I owned more than just a Red Sox hat, I definitely would have dragged myself out at 4:30 to watch the England Vs. US game, but the events of the following day prevented even my biggest spirits from rising at such an ungodly hour.

Starting when I was in London this past Winter, the rivalry between the US and UK football teams was already in full bloom for a match that was six months away, and I really did hate to miss it. The 13 of June became almost a deadline for the two “U”s to duke it out head to head—or should I say- foot to foot, for the “best” man to win—and funnily enough- it was a tie.

Anyway, enough about sports.

Annie, Rebecca, Gaby and I left Darling Harbour on Friday night at 1 AM, after checking out the sensational scene, making some new friends, and flouncing through a sea of flags.

At 4:30 AM, Annie and I woke up, not for a big match, but for a big date with two horses, and the Blue Mountains.

Rushing in the darkness to catch the 5:47 AM train toward Blackheath (just outside of Katoomba) from Sydney’s Central Station, Annie and I sprinted through the tunnels of the train station, combating post-game drunkies to reach out desired track. With a slight mishap, we somehow lost our track number, and at 5:45, we finally emerged in the general direction of our nearly-departed train. With a hop, skip, and a jump (almost literally), we made it through the darkness of the early morning, to start our journey trying to make it through, and to, the wilderness.

That morning, I watched the sunrise over the Blue Mountains—a sight I’ll probably never see again. With the bright yellow sun beaming through the red and orange horizon, I almost felt as if I was witnessing a private moment of nature’s —and one so rare that it almost didn’t’ feel like mine to keep. Although I wanted to yawn and drift away beyond the sounds of Coldplay, or jabber to Annie about the events of the night before, I didn’t dare break the silence of the break of dawn against the blue hazy mountaintops. I watched the tips of green emerge from the hidden shadows of nighttime come through, and I absorbed the peaceful moment of rebirth without any sound except the gliding of the railroad. I finally felt like I was out of the city, and into Australia.

Ah, but when I did get the beaming, sunny land of Australia, there was frost on the cars, and icicles forming on our noses. While waiting for the lady from Werriberri trails to come get us to take us out on horses, Annie and I couldn’t believe we were falling into the December-like air, and that no cups of tea would be waiting to warm us up in this deserted town. As we watched our train leave us behind in the middle of nowhere, we wondered if this big adventure was such a good idea.

To start, I haven’t really been much of an equestrian—er—ever. And although I have ridden horses along trails more than once, I may have fibbed a little on my information sheet with the trail leaders. The options for experience were as follows: Question One: Have you ever ridden a horse? Check. Question 2: How many times? Options: Less than 25 times, Less than 50 times, Experienced rider. Okay, thought I, with my “three” times, I’ll go with box one. However, apparently, box one means you get a former race horse named FLAME, who sometimes forgets she’s no longer a race horse, and falls back into her old lifestyle, whilst a three timer holds on for dear life…

I exaggerate—a little.

As Annie and I (and Flame and Pumpkin) rode along the steep and sticky trails of the Blue Mountains (famous for their colour…and height), all seemed well in the world. After about 20 minutes into our two-hour trek through the slopes, and unmarked trails, Flame and I started to get along quite nicely. Basically, I just set up a bargain: You don’t throw me, I won’t scream. Easy as pie.

However… old Flame must have gotten a bit nostalgic for her old track days along the slope of one steep hill (that lead into a river…way down), because before I knew it, she flew off of the guided trail, and up some rocks, heading into some trees dashing to bring us somewhere up the Blue Mountains (and this I don’t exaggerate).

Luckily, Annie is an experienced equestrian, and controlled her horse long enough to try to talk me down off the tree hill, and back on the trail, whilst holding her horse back so feisty little Flame could find her way on track.

Helluva scary little episode, and one I definitely won’t forget…but after Flame and I reignited our comfort with one another (and I stopped holding my breath around every corner), the last hour was full of sweeping shots of the Blue Mountains, and idyllic scenes of back country Australia, only two hours outside of Sydney.

As an added surprise, we also ran into a few kangas in the wild, that aren’t usually seen along the trails. And not just the big brave ones, but a tiny little Joey also made a shy appearance, popping his little feet from the mommas pouch. Only in Australia. J

Anyway, Annie and I brushed ourselves off, I kissed the good earth from my normal height, and we headed to Katoomba, the sight of the famous Three Sisters.

A little tired, and a lot pekish, I waddled my newly bowed legs down the town for some grub and a tour of the town with a leisurely stroll to ease the straightness back into my limbs. The Three Sisters were hidden in the back of the town, and boy were they worth the wait. I think the pictures can speak for themselves. It was the perfect time of day, and the perfect way to end our excursion in such a peaceful place. For the hour that we were there, I felt as though I was a part of something harmonious, as the birds and bugs chirped from beyond the layers and layers of trees, cliffs, and streams into miles and miles of unseen land and life. Literally, as I stood on the foot of the lookout, I felt the overwhelming sea of mortal insignificance in such an ancient and timeless space. One that has housed the ancient Aboriginals, given life to new society, preserved the animals, the insects, the fish, the bacteria, the cells and the bones of those gone by, and nurtures space for those to come.

The Blue Mountains, and the legendary Three Sisters, are landmarks of Australia for folklore, and fun, but more importantly, this moment (and the whole day) was just full of time to listen, to absorb, and to see with more than just my glancing eyes. For a while, standing there in the sea of ranges, I really looked beyond the blue haze, and into the trees. I imagined where I nearly got lost because of Flame, where I thought life would be over, and where I realized it could actually be pretty fun and risky, but always worth a try. We stayed there for a good hour taking in the sights and sounds of the natural world, and for that time, Annie and I were part of the living, breathing microcosm of Australia’s everlasting, undeniable, indescribably beauty & wonder.

Catching the train at 4 PM, Annie and I watched the sun set over the Blue Mountains. We started our day with it, and now that we had our time in the land, we were ready to drift into the newfound feeling of rest and renewal.

Happy Travels,

xx