Down Under in 2004

SEEING AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND FROM INSIDE A WINDOW

by Isobel Kleinman

As many of you know, I did not return from my trip down under with the usual bubbly feeling I've had in the past.  I can't blame that on Overseas Adventure Travel.  The company's trip coordination was flawless.  I can't blame it on my travel companions either.  They were very nice and (True had they been more energetic, adventurous and interested in intellectual conversation, it might have helped.)  I can't blame it on the flight down or back.  It was painless.  Even not getting my bag for 36 hours (I learned that to get luggage through LA, I should bring it to Quantas myself) didn't have a negative impact.  It gave me a new experience . . . looking for a change of clothes.

My quest got me into every store in Melbourne and gave me an economy lesson.  With my $100 credit I looked for clothes for 95 degree temperatures.  What I found was winter stuff and prices that were out of sight ($59 for a Nike tank top).  In a country bigger than the USA and a population smaller than NYS, retailers get their mark-up.  They have to in order to make a living.  Prices were high: celery $3.00, lettuce $2.50, CD's $30, paperback books $35+, T-shirts $26+, and entrées priced like ours but the size of appetizers.  An $18 calamari entrée at Doyle's came with about 16 rings - less than half what of we'd expect here.  Of course the exchange rate (.82 Australian to $1.00) lowered prices a bit, but still . . .   In truth, it was difficult finding things that were Australian made, difficult wanting them once you found them, and more difficult justifying buying them at the asking price.  

I loved the country side.  I loved seeing athletes in short shorts.  I loved the friendly, charming, openness of the Aussies.  I loved how cities were organized.  I loved how people were easy going and full of humor.  I loved how Cairnes, a seafront city without a beach, created a lagoon that seemed to float into the ocean and that it is public, clean, useful, and gorgeous!  I loved how sports facilities were designed to be centrally located, user friendly, interesting to look at, surrounded by public playing fields with parking lots underground or on the grass so that all you see is beautiful green lawns.  The architecture of the cultural centers is superior to anything I've seen in our country.  And, the Sydney Opera House had me drooling.  
The layout was fabulous, not just on the outside; but the inside, too.   The glass that separates the Harbor from the concert halls makes intermission almost as exciting as the performance.

 As I waited for the next act of La Traviota, I looked out at life on the water.  It was spectacular!   See what I mean?

Some of the things that were trying were that bus drivers doubled as local guides and talked and talked, whether or not they had anything to say.  On Kangaroo Island ours talked non-stop from 8:00AM until 9:30 at night.  He was so open that he shared that he was divorced and passed around pictures of his ex-wife, son, grandchildren, pets, and farm.  

As for a "tour," it wasn't what I anticipated.  I chose the longest tour I could find - 19 days - and it wasn't enough.  Not because there was so much to see, but because the distances between what we did see were long and we ended up spending a lot of time either on a plane, or in a bus, or on a boat.  It was five days until we saw something unique.  By then, I'd traveled a 1½ days to get there, spent a few days in Melbourne (a pretty city with trees and parks, botanical gardens, tennis courts that host the Open and the Gaol -jail to you - where the real story of Australia began), flew to Adelaide, drove to an oceanfront suburb with a driver who talked his head off about real estate prices (they were high) but left out the part about why (something about government incentives to own a second home).  The excursion was simply a time killer because two hours later we were at the airport, preparing to fly to Kangaroo Island. This, our fourth day, allowed us about one hour on our feet and gave us little to see.

Kangaroo Island was terrific though even there; we spent a lot of time on the bus.  In going from one end to the other, we learned about converting a sheep farm to a Eucalyptus manufacturing plant (and why).  We petted Koalas, fed Kangaroos, took pictures of echidnas, ate typical barbecue, went to the National Park, (it was really a zoo - the animals were caged), saw unusual birds and wild life, walked to the "Fantastic Rock", saw miniature penguins, walked alongside resting seals and were getting our legs back.  Our legs didn't last because the next morning we ferried to Cape Jervis, and got on a bus again.  We had a short stop in Victor Harbor and some time in a winery before reaching Adelaide, when our  driver became a talking map, naming each street, telling us which was parallel, which perpendicular and which way to go to get back to where were.  This while driving past sections of town that I'd have liked to walk through. We stopped at the War Memorial and could have stayed in the city center, but with museums closing in 30 minutes, and all that sitting, I just wanted a dip in the hotel pool.  

That evening was hilarious.  We got a chance to rub shoulders with the locals.  While the guys and I went for a pub dinner, the girls stayed in the hotel, resting . . . and . . . getting "picked up" by Haydn.  Haydn was a very drunk Aussie.  It took the girls awhile to figure this out, though he'd been drunk when we left for the pub.  Anyway, Haydn, who was mourning the loss of his dad, didn't want to be alone and did what he could to surround himself with the wives. Desirous of company and sensing that they were about to leave once their men showed up, he sauntered to the bar, begging us to wait, bought 4 bottles of champagne and he wouldn't let us empty our glass.  Needless to say, we stayed, loosened up quite a bit and laughed and laughed, especially when it seemed that Haydn was losing interest in the girls and paying a lot more attention to Burt.  Burt's reaction was priceless!

The next morning, day 7, we were off, this time to Alice Springs.  If I'd been on my feet for more than three hours since arriving in Australia, I'd be amazed.  Feeling a bit like a caged animal, I enjoyed being let out at the Alice Springs art and history museum, seeing the home of the Flying Doctor service, and going across the street for a lecture-demo about lizards and snakes, my least favorite animals.  The young lady giving the talk had a fantastic sense of humor and so much passion for her strange looking charges that she made them grow on me. I left there, kind of liking the bug killers.  The day's touring ended at the Radio School - an Aussie solution for educating kids in the outback.  With no planned activities on our second day in Alice Springs, I opted to go ballooning and take a cultural tour. That meant getting up at 4:00AM, getting on a bus in the dark, and heading into the desert.  During the four hour ballooning option, 30 minutes were up in the air, looking for an interesting sight - the two other balloons.   After landing, we had to help deflate and store the balloon.  We punched the air out, folded it and struggled to get it in its bag. In the process, all of us got filthy and inundated with flies (hundreds - seriously) who loved our sweat (and my insect repellant) and wouldn't leave us alone. When the balloon was stored away, the sun and temperature had risen and we were hot, dirty and grossed out by flies, but headed for a champagne breakfast and a diploma reception.  That was a mere $129.

After, we rejoined the group and headed out for a $65 tour with an Aborigine woman, Pat.  She was at least 55 and had been a "taken child" who'd been raised by the Aussies.  She was, we were told, going to tell us things we'd never hear anywhere else.  She took us to a cliff with markings which she said was sacred.   She didn't quite explain it though.  You see, Aborigines don't tell about secret places, sacred practices, or cultural symbols.  We drove on, stopping near a tree - another sacred place.  I never quite got its significance, but we walked from there to the base of a rock formation . . . which was also sacred.  People gathered there.  Water collected at its base.  It was a male place.  Pat was female and could tell us no more.  Later, she pointed to a cliff saying, "In this place the women would go to have babies." About that, she said little more.  The fact is, she spoke mostly of "issues, yeah, issues," not Aboriginal ways.  I did learn that after people died, their homes were abandoned and their families moved on in body and spirit.  You see, when someone dies, they are to be forgotten.  It's the custom, "yeah."  We finished our tour under a lean-to in the desert, having tea and crackers, looking at simple modestly priced Aborigine paintings and meeting her daughter, grandchild and son-in-law.  As we said goodbye, Pat told us that she wanted to build a home nearby - the middle of no where- and that she was saving to do so.  On the ride back I realized that Pat was clear about her anger though not about the rest.  I left her feeling that the Aussies were a bunch of no good, racist pigs, who, while seeming to give Aborigines an education to further themselves, would keep them down so they couldn't rise in class. Pat wanted us to think that, and that her people needed more time (Aborigines inhabited Australia for 40,000 years) to adapt to the technological world they seemed to reject.  

Later that afternoon, we headed to the best developed historical site in Alice Springs, the Telegraph Station.  The need for quick, reliable communication from the far reaches of Australia all the way to Europe necessitated a cable line that crossed Australia.  The dead center, Alice Springs, grew as the telegraph line was laid.  Our guide, a tall black man, who'd already retired a few times, was fabulous.  He'd been a "taken child" too but had a different take on being "taken" than Pat. He talked about the history of the Telegraph Station, the settlement, life over a 100 years and Alice Springs in general.  He taught us to hold and throw a boomerang.  Throughout, it was clear that he thought the Aussies had saved him, that he was glad for his education and that he was disappointed in his people, who he said were lazy, only interested in the "dole" and could care less about improving their lot.  I left him, and spent the rest of my time in the outback weighing the issues and attitudes and drawing my own conclusion.  I had plenty of time to think.  The next morning we were back on a bus for a little ride - 5 hours - on our way to Ayers Rock (Uluru) which we hoped to reach by sundown.   

We had a few stops for lunch and an option, a Camel ride.  The offering turned out to be nothing like the elephant ride we had in Thailand - into the woods and into a river.  Here, the camel was lead by a handler who walked it and its' riders around a padlock - once . . . and we were back on the bus.  We stopped at date farm for lunch.  Then we stopped at a ranch, where a soft spoken homesteader spoke about life in the outback.  He was content.  I wasn't.  We had to get in the bus.  After a couple of hours, we checked into our hotel, took a swim and were back on the bus, headed for Kata Tjuta, one of two rock formations that rose out of the desert.  Kata Tjuta was impressive.  A thirty minute walk and we were on the bus again, heading for Uluru to get a good spot to see sundown.   As we drove, it rained.  When the rain stopped, we saw double and triple complete rainbows but we never got to see the gorgeous and much ballyhooed sunset at Uluru (Ayers Rock).  Clouds prevented the sun from hitting the rock.  The magical colors never appeared.  Sunrise was no better.  Thought it hadn't rained for months, it managed to, the night and morning we were there.  Oh, I went out anyway (5 of us did) but our pre-dawn view was that of a huge dark rock that had some water running down it.  After breakfast, we returned to the rock and toured a small part of Uluru, spent ¾ of an hour in the museum and headed to the airport for a flight to Cairnes.  A few hours later we were back on a bus, for the 3 hour ride to Cape Tribulation.  We arrived at the charming, environmentally friend, setting where we'd stay for two nights with little time to do more than shower and change for dinner.  

In the morning we went looking for crocodiles.  I should have taken a notebook or a tape recorder.  Our search couldn't find much to look out, but we sure laughed.  The guy had an incredible sense of humor.  The naturalist who took us through the rainforest did too.   She used her love of botany and the birds and bees to jumble concepts in an extraordinary way.  Between her straight look, her German accent, her Heidi pigtails, her large round glasses and her way with words, she was funnier than the guy on the boat.  It was a great day.  So was the next.  We got up early, drove an hour to meet a boat that took us to the Great Barrier Reef, donned full bodysuits so the jellyfish wouldn't get us, and toured in the water.  Swimming and sun were just what I needed.  The coral was brilliant and the sea life interesting.  The day was a success even though we had a two hour ride to Cairnes, where we'd stay for two nights - to rest.  The highlight in Cairnes was its lagoon and having a home dinner with locals who shared the everyday worries of ordinary Australians with us.     

After a late breakfast, we flew to Sydney.  I must say, even the flyover was impressive.  Sydney turned out to be one of the most beautiful cities I've ever seen.  Our four days (walking most of it, thank god) went quickly.  My highlights were the tour of the Opera House, La Traviota, a cruise down the harbor, my afternoon with Christopher and Rebecca Messina, (who among other things, explained how Aussies have an aversion to walking), sharing Dim Sum with the Millers and Richards and returning to the hotel, each time seeing gorgeous views of the bridge, the Opera House and sunrise or sundown.  Sydney had wonderful views almost everywhere I turned.

My conclusions about Australia is that it is big, has prices that are ridiculously high and that its sporting life is out of proportion.  There is too much America on its television and in its movie theaters and too little history (Aussies have wanted to forget how their ancestors arrived and that their country was inhabited by Aborigines first) but I'm glad I got there.  I toured half the country for nineteen days.  The trouble is I saw most of it behind a glass window.  

Well I was well below the equator and on the other side of the world, so why go home when the tour in Australia is over . . . on to New Zealand.  My plan was to see a slice of it.  

We arrived in New Zealand on the first day of fall.  Christchurch was clean, beautiful and quiet.  It took no time to find out how spread out things was though.   (To think, I considered a biking trip there, how?)   With only 4 million people (and many more sheep), and one million in the south island,  quiet was an understatement.  Amazingly, though we toured a relatively small part of the island, we still spent plenty of time in buses or on boats.   In the end, what can I say that you wouldn't know from watching Lord of the Rings?  The vistas were spectacular.  
 
But getting to see them on this tour meant that exercise was almost non-existent.  For instance, a big event - going to Milford Bay and seeing Doubtful Sound meant being picked up at 6:30AM, sitting on a bus for 3 hours, transferring to a ferry for a 45 minute trip, getting back on a bus to cross over a mountain pass and reaching our destination - a boat for a 3 hour cruise of Doubtful Sound in search of dolphins, whales, seals, and the fiords.   Because of the weather (see below) we saw no view, no whales, and no dolphins.  When the wet, foggy, rainy boat ride ended, it was back on the bus for a ride over the pass, another ferry ride of 45 minutes and another 3 hours bus trip home.  We had almost 14 hours of sitting.  

I tried to reverse my inactivity on the last day, so I spent it walking and climbing the mountain that overlooked our hotel in Queenstown.  It was sunny and the climb promised a great view.  I hit the trail, alone, confident that though it looked rugged and steep, it wasn't dangerous.  That thought changed about a third of the way up when I hit a patch where I would have been over the edge if I lost my footing.  Needless to say, I was scared out of my mind, much too scared to walk back down. (I considered that but since going down requires better knees than going up does, going back seemed impossible.) So, I kept going, on all fours when necessary, knowing that when I got to the top I could take the Gondola down.

I've come to the conclusion that if you're heading Down Under, you should be weary of trying to see too much in too short a time.  It is a tough call to go such a long way without seeing everything, but the truth is the more you try to see, the less you will. Nineteen days in Australia was too short a time to travel from Melbourne to Kangaroo Island, to Adelaide, to Alice Springs, to Cape Tribulation, to the Great Barrier Reef, to Cairnes and to Sydney.  Yes, we got there, but we were looking out of windows most of the time.  The best way to see a country is on your feet, talking to its people.  That's hard to do on a bus, in a plane, or on a boat surrounded by tourists.