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
