I mean, even the toilets aren't safe in Australia! I can't believe I made it home alive.
(By the way, on my tour of the Botanical Gardens in Sydney, one of my fellow tourists asked the guide about deadly critters in Australia. The guide said, "If you ask me, the thing to watch out for is the young men.")
My last stop in Australia was Melbourne (pronounced "Melbin", or actually, more like "Melb'n").
I totally loved Melbourne, but I'm at a bit of a loss to explain how I spent my four days there. It was the end of my trip, and I was feeling a bit touristed-out. There are plenty of terrific things to see, and tons of marvelous day trips. But -- I was tired of tourist sites. I really didn't feel like hopping on a bus to go anywhere. I damn sure didn't feel like renting a car. I felt like going to cafes and restaurants and wine bars and pubs, and just wandering around. And there can be no better place for that than Melbourne.
Melbourne has less flash than Sydney. It doesn't have the spectacular harbor setting, it doesn't have the opera house, and it doesn't seem to cater as relentlessly to tourists as Sydney does. Sydney is probably the more obvious tourist destination, and as you know, I loved Sydney. However, if I were going to live in one of them, I think I'd take Melbourne.
Melbourne's cafes and restaurants, in my experience at least, were better overall (although I must say that most of my meals in Australia were delicious, so it is a matter of degree), and they were a bit cheaper. But it was more than that -- the city has a more laid-back attitude. Sydney is a tall, tanned, manicured blonde dressed straight out of "Sex and the City," and it wanted me to be the same way. I'm a petite, pale brunette dressed in black, and I think Melbourne is too. Someone told me that Melbourne is more like a European city while Sydney is more like an American city, and I get what she meant. But that's not quite it, I think, because both cities, to me, had elements that reminded me of my favorite American cities (New York, Boston and San Francisco), and also elements that reminded me of European cities. In New York terms, Melbourne is more like the Village (a bit of East, a bit of West). Sydney is the upper east side, with a healthy splash of Soho. Melbourne is San Francisco; Sydney (while it looks more like San Francisco) has more of an L.A. attitude.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I felt at home in Melbourne, and that was the way I treated it. I went to an art museum, but that was it on the touristy front.
So what did I do? Well, I walked around a lot. And I ate. And I drank. I got together with a friend of a friend, and had a great night with her and her friends until 2 am. I struck up a conversation with a terrific woman at the bar of a tapas restaurant, and ended up having lunch with her at the bar for about two hours. She has one of my fantasy jobs -- she's a travel writer -- so we had plenty to talk about. We put ourselves at the mercy of the chef and told him to give us whatever he liked. It was rather expensive but well worth it. (Go there if you are in Melbourne -- Movida (www.movida.com.au), on Hosier Lane. It's terrific. Also go to Ginger Boy. It costs the earth, but worth it. Fantastic Asian tapas.) Um . . . I went to pubs. And wine bars. And chocolate cafes (yum -- lots of good chocolate cafes). And I had a terrific time.
So here I am, five pounds heavier and back in New York (but I anticipated that and lost five before I went, so I'm at about square one). I still haven't downloaded my pictures yet, but it's supposed to rain all day tomorrow, so I hope to get around to it then, and then I'll post a few on the blog, in the appropriate places. I'll post and let you know when I do that, so you can go back to all the "Grouchy Woman in Australia" posts and check them out if you want.
Postscript: Vegemite. It's definitely an acquired taste, but I kept trying it at breakfast. (I went on the toddler principle -- sometimes you have to give a toddler a new food about a dozen times before he'll like it.) I turned my nose up at first, but by the last day there, I voluntarily had a second slice of buttered toast with Vegemite.
Sorry for the uncharacteristically long gap in posts. The hotel internet in Melbourne was absurdly expensive, and I couldn't find a reasonably cheap place near my hotel, so I stuck with a paper journal. I've been back in New York for a week, fighting far and away the worst jet lag I've ever had (my sleep schedule is still a little bit off), and frankly I've been too damn lazy to blog. But I'm back, and I'll try to make up for lost time.
After Uluru and Kata Tjuta, I spent two nights in Alice Springs. Alice Springs is the nearest town to U and KT -- and it's about 300 miles away. Some people do Uluru as a day trip from Alice Springs, but I think that is a huge, huge mistake. Look, I know the damn Ayers Rock Resort is expensive, but it's worth staying at least a night so that you can actually experience U and KT. If you do it as a day trip, you'll barely have time to snap a picture and leave. You really should hang out, walk around the damn things, see them change as the sun shifts, and listen to the Aboriginal stories about them.
Besides, Alice Springs is no great shakes. Sorry, Alice. It's a convenient base for the Macdonnell range (which is the main reason I was there), and has some worthwhile sites (a desert park, for example), and at least one delightful little restaurant (Bluegrass Restaurant), but all in all -- spend your time at Uluru. Camp (the Ayers Rock Resort has a campground) or stay in the backpacker's lodge if it's too expensive -- that's what I would have done if I hadn't been alone. (Note -- the backpacker's lodge puts you either in a small (4 people) mixed sex dorm, or if you're a woman, you have the option of a huge (20 people) women-only dorm. I feel too damn old for either option. If I had been with a couple of friends, though, I would have tried to get a small mixed-sex dorm for our group.)
Where was I -- oh yes, Alice Springs. Frankly, it freaked me out and kind of depressed me. This is strictly a tourist impression, so take it for what it's worth. I saw a lot of Aborigines wandering around town, but so many of them seemed like the walking wounded. Many apparently have substance abuse problems, and a number of them were begging. They don't, for the most part, seem integrated into the town, but they also don't seem to be living their own culture. None of this is the least bit surprising, given how they've been treated (please see my previous post for some examples), but it is distressing to see. A lot of shops and restaurants were closed or for sale, and many of the streets seemed eerily deserted.
As I said, the Macdonnell ranges were the main reason I was in Alice Springs, and they are worth seeing. I took a tour, but I'd advise you to consider getting a good map and guidebook, renting a car and doing it yourself, especially if you are with someone and can split the cost of renting the car. My guided tours in Uluru, the rainforest, etc. were well worth paying for, to hear about the history, botany, etc., so I thought I'd take the lazy way and do another one, but in retrospect, if I had it to do over again, I'd rent the car. Maybe it's just that I've been on too many tours lately, and had already heard a lot about the plants, animals and rocks of the region, but I didn't feel like I needed all that here. That said, you might feel differently if you come here before or instead of Uluru.
Unfortunately, the day of my daytrip to the Macdonnell ranges, I got some kind of 24-hour bug, which started to manifest itself when we were about an hour or two out of town and it was too late to turn back. No vomiting, but fever, chills and body aches. It seemed to come out of nowhere -- I'd been very fatigued for the previous 24 hours, but otherwise had felt fine. It was pretty miserable, and it really put a damper on the day -- and it was a long day, from 7:30 am until 5:30 in the afternoon. I gamely trotted out to see the sights whenever we stopped, but was not up to a big hike and didn't even have the heart to take many pictures. The fact that I found it all quite beautiful in spite of that fact does say something about the beauty of the area.
Everyone should have a list of things to do and see before she dies, and Uluru and Kata Tjuta should be on the list. Unless you camp, it'll cost you a bloody fortune to stay out here for a couple of days, but it's worth it.
Uluru is a single massive bare red rock, looming 384 meters high and 9 kilometers around (and it goes another 6 kilometers down under the ground, so they say). Kata Tjuta is an enormous group of huge domed red rocks, the tallest of which is 546 meters high. Actually, the rocks themselves are not red at all, but millenniums of being coated in the iron-oxide-rich desert sand surrounding them have stained them the same color as the sand, which is all the vivid red-orange shade of a brand new brick. The semi-arid land all around Uluru and Kata Tjuta is flat for miles around, and the same vivid red color, with quite a lot of desert bushes and plants and little trees spotting it with green. The sky overhead seems to always be a deep vivid cloudless blue. It is difficult to imagine a more dramatic landscape.
I did four major things in the three days I was out here, all of which I heartily recommend. First, I took a sunrise tour that walked all the way around Uluru, with an explanation of all of the ancient cave paintings and physical features of the rock. Second, I did a sunset tour of Uluru with an Anangu (the Aboriginal people of the area) guide, which covered only a portion of the rock, but went into great detail about some of the Anangu beliefs about the rock. Both the sunset and the sunrise are amazing -- do both if you can. They are each different and each well worth experiencing. The rock changes color and the shadows shift continually -- it is truly unforgettable. The walks with the Anangu guides do not go all the way around the rock -- I recommend you do what I did, and do one that goes all the way around, and one with an Anangu guide. Yes, you can walk around by yourself, but I really do think it is worth the money to have the significance of the rock and all of its paintings and features explained, and it is also really something to hear a bit of them explained by a native Anangu who can answer more detailed questions.
In addition to my Uluru walks, I did an afternoon hike of the Valley of the Winds and Walpa Gorge at Kata Tjuta, staying for the sunset and a moonlit barbecue in the desert. Finally, I did the "Sounds of Silence" dinner, a fairly posh dinner out in the desert with heaps of good wine, champagne, canapes, an enormous dinner, and a post-dinner discussion of the stars in the southern sky (they douse all the dinner lights for that, and it is amazing how many stars you can see), complete with telescopes set off to one side, for those that want to get a closer look. (I have seen the Southern Cross. I can even tell you how to find south with it. Don't forget to bring invaluable me on your next outback adventure.)
One thing I did not do was climb Uluru, and if you go, please don't you climb it either. The park authorities allow it for a fee, but the rock is sacred to the Anangu, and they ask that you don't. Please respect their wish. You don't have to climb everything just because it is there.
I asked Sammy (my Anangu guide for the Uluru sunset tour) why the park doesn't forbid the climbing of Uluru. Although he had given most of the tour in his native Unangu language, with an English translator, he answered this question in English directly. The park authorities say they are afraid fewer people will come to visit Uluru if they forbid the climb, and so, as long as the Australian government controls the park (until 2084), they are likely to continue allowing the climb.
By the way, the Australian government took the land away from the Anangu about 70 or 80 years ago, and only just restored it to the Anangu people in about 1985, on the condition that the Australian government would continue to lease the land from the Anangu for a national park for the next 99 years. Although I was truly enthralled and privileged to visit, I wish the 99 years were over. I'm sure the Anangu will still allow people to visit, but on their terms, which is the way it should be.
The climbers are not only violating the sensibilities of the Anangu, but are also polluting the rock's waterholes. There's nowhere to put a toilet or a trash can on the rock, and it takes hours to climb, so they just piss everywhere and toss their trash. Thus, the traditional waterholes surrounding the rock (some of the only ones in the area), are no longer drinkable.
At least the Anangu have managed to stop some of the tourist industry's damage to the rock. Until the Anangu regained ownership of the land in 1985, tour guides used to throw buckets of water at the ancient cave paintings so that they'd show up better in flash photography. In the process, they washed many of them quite away -- many of them thousands of years old and of great (and current) religious and cultural significance to the Anangu. Can you believe that? It makes my blood boil.
Even worse than the disrespect shown the Aborigines cultures is the disrespect with which the Aborigines people themselves were treated at the hands of the Australian government. Forgive me if I've already blogged about it -- I can't recall and it just outrages me. For over a century, the government systematically separated many of the Aborigines children (especially the lighter-skinned ones) from their parents, placing them with white families and in orphanages, needless to say against the will of the families. I mean separated permanently, too -- with no record or history given of their real families, and the families given no clue where their children were sent, all done to wipe out the Aborigines culture. This practice was only ended in 1967. You read that right -- 1967. And the government didn't apologize for it until 2008. They call these children "the lost generations."
As a result of their systematic mistreatment, many of the Aborigines have grown up outside of their own culture, but many seem to be outside the white culture too. I've seen a lot of them on this trip that seem to be the walking wounded, rootless, many of them alcoholics or homeless. It is incredibly sad and infuriating.
For the sake of privacy, I won't give his name or any revealing details, but I met one Aborigines man born before 1967 whose mother had fled into the bush when he was an infant to prevent his being taken away by the Australian authorities. As a result, he was brought up in his native culture and with his native language. It is an amazing and inspiring story. His mother must have had tremendous courage.
I have a ton more to say, but I'm in Melbourne now and eager to get out and about, so I'm going to save it for another entry. However, before I go, I wanted to let my faithful readers know that after some research at a supermarket, I now know what "tasty cheese" is. It's the Australian generic term for processed cheddar cheese -- like Cracker Barrel or Helluva Good (as opposed to a raw milk or farmhouse cheddar, which I assume the Australians just call cheddar like everybody else). Now you won't be nearly as confused as I was when you go to an Australian deli.
It costs a bloody fortune to access the internet out here in the Northern territory, so this is just a quick note to let you all know that I'm going to save my updates on Uluru and Alice Springs until I get to Melbourne (May 18). I've been keeping a paper journal instead, so have no fear, my back entries on the Northern territory will be chock full of extremely enthusiastic and occasionally ridiculous commentary on my adventures.
I have to make this really quick, as I'm on the hotel internet, which is far too expensive. But I had another really terrific day today, with another tour group, Tropical Horizons (www.tropicalhorizontours.com.au, (07) 4058 1244) , that I can highly recommend, and I thought I'd log in and tell you about it.
Those of you who know me, and know how much I hate organized tours in general, are probably really wondering why I'm going on them in the first place. The fact is, there really isn't a great way to get out to the reef, or to get out in the rainforest, as a lone independent traveler. I can't think how you'd do it in the case of the reef, and with regard to the rainforest, it would be a big pain in the butt. You can't just stroll though anywhere in a rainforest -- you have limited access in limited places, and they are a good distance apart. (This is mainly to protect the rainforest, but it's also to protect you -- there are a hell of a lot of killer plants and snakes and things in the rainforest, and it would be pretty easy to get lost, especially if you got stuck there at dusk.) Therefore, a tour group really is your best option -- it's a question of finding one that isn't ludicrously touristy and crowded.
My group today was fabulous -- like yesterday, it was only a small group (about 10 of us), and our guide was great. I sat in the front seat of the little bus with him, and we teased the crap out each other the entire day. We had the entire bus laughing. This trip was way less theme-park-y than the trip I took to Kuranda the other day -- if you're going to do one rainforest trip, I think this one is a great way to go. We strolled through a lovely path in Mossman Gorge, and also a fantastic aerial walkway through the forest canopy in Daintree forest. We took a cruise on the Daintree river, and I saw four salt water crocodiles (that's the deadly kind, by the way) in the wild, including a baby one, which is evidently pretty unusual, and a five-meter-long one, which is pretty damn huge. The guide warned us not to get cute and dangle feet or hands off the boat, because we'd be in serious danger of losing them. We also saw a ton of cool birds and frogs and butterflies and orchids, all out in the wild as opposed to in an enclosure. It was really wonderful.
I'm learning a lot about rainforest plants, so should you ever need to know what to avoid in the rainforest, I can help. Stay away from the dangling cords called wait-a-whiles, which hang absolutely everywhere. The have vicious thorns which catch lightly on you, and then rip you to shreds if you pull away. They're called wait-a-whiles because if one catches on you, you should "wait a while" while you carefully extricate yourself. Similarly, there's the "hairy mary", which also has sharp nasty things on it that can seriously hurt you. Oh, there's a ghastly plant whose name I can't remember, but the appearance of which I've carefully memorized -- it has sweet heart-shaped leaves and pretty purple berries, and if you touch the leaves with your bare skin, you'll be in agony for months. That's what they said, folks -- months. Little stinger things stick into you and stay there, and keep firing off under your skin. They can potentially kill you if you have a weak heart.
It was just a fantastic day. My only complaint would be with regard to some of my fellow tourists. I love the way some people clump through a forest with their big noisy feet, complaining at the top of their lungs about how there aren't any animals or birds around. Well, of course not, asshole, you've frightened them all off. There was one couple in particular in my group with a son about 11 or 12 years old. He kept making noise and making a pest of himself the entire trip. On the river cruise, the guide "jokingly" offered to sacrifice him to the crocodiles -- that is, the family thought the guide was joking, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't. He was definitely the kind of child that makes you think two or three times about the idea of ever having a child. Anyway, we managed to see quite a bit in spite of him.
[ASIDE: I have a huge dilemma here, folks. I've got 16 minutes left of exorbitantly expensive internet time left, with no refund. On the other hand, there is a man next to me smelling so abominably that I may vomit up my pizza if I stay here much longer.]
[DECISION MADE. Sorry, can't stand the stink anymore. Forgive the typos. I'll correct them all and post photos when I get home. Cheers! Lord, this man reeks.]
If you come out to Cairns (pronounced "Cans", by the way), here are a few things I heartily recommend:
Great Barrier Reef diving/snorkeling group: Seastar. Phone: (07) 4041-6218 www.seastarcruises.com.au Fantastic family owned company that only takes small groups of up to 30 people (as opposed to the big ships that you'll share with hundreds of Japanese tourists). More expensive than some, but worth every dime (and Grouchy Woman doesn't say that lightly).
For breakfast: The Fusion Cafe (address to follow when I find the card) -- absolutely the best breakfast I've had in Australia. Perfect, perfect bacon, and eggs done to perfection -- the whites neither slimy nor rubbery, and the yolks still soft (I'm picky about my eggs) -- just fantastic.
Dinner -- two places. Mangostins (discussed in my last post) and Splash, a delightful family-owned fish restaurant. Both are on the Esplanade (the main drag in Cairns), and both are way better than the typical tourist trap lining the street. Both had drop-dead delicious food and very good service, and both seem to get a good local crowd. Come before 6 pm, and you get a 25% discount at Mangostins, and a 20% discount at Splash.
Besides the eat-dinner-early tip, here's another money-saving tip for you: if you do any tours, call the tour company directly to book rather than doing it through your hotel. If you tell them that someone recommended them, they'll often give you a discount. (For example, I'm getting 10% off my Cape Tribulation trip tomorrow.)
Speaking of tomorrow, I need to be up early, so I need to sign off. Cheers!
When my eldest niece Bridget was not quite two years old (she's now five), she left a phone message for my parents. She'd just learned the word "happy," and my brother (Bridget's father) put her on the phone to say it for my parents. "Are you happy?" said my brother. "Happpeeeee!" cried Bridget. "Can you say happy?" said my brother. "Happppeeeeeeee!" crowed Bridget.
And all day long today, I knew just how she felt.
It's a shame that as adults we can't remember much about the way it was to be two years old, with everything new and fresh and interesting and just a bit scary and mysterious but infinitely joyous. I think the best way to capture a little piece of that feeling, as an adult, is to do something brand new and fresh and to try to forget all of the umpteen inhibitions and negative associations you've been collecting all your life. And that, for me, was what today was about.
I've never been snorkeling, and since I'm not a strong swimmer, I was just a bit nervous. I'm here to tell you -- no need. I'm not even sure you need to swim at all to snorkel -- the flippers do it for you, and the snorkel does the breathing, and there you are. And I'm also here to tell you -- YOU MUST DO THIS. YOU MUST COME OUT TO SNORKEL AT THE GREAT BARRIER REEF.
How can I describe snorkeling at the reef? If you've done it, you don't need a description, and mine will seem lame. And if you haven't, I don't know if my description will begin to give you a flavor. With apologies for my own inadequacies, I'm going to give it a try.
We first went to snorkel at Michaelmas Cay, which is a small island on the inner reef that is absolutely covered with sea birds. Actually, you can only be on a small-ish roped-off area of the beach, because so many protected birds nest there. It's heaven for a bird watcher. Even if you aren't a bird watcher, the golden sands and brilliantly clear turquoise water are pretty heavenly, and it is amazing to be on this small circle of sand with so many birds cawing and calling and circling above you.
As a complete novice, I needed some help adjusting everything from my snorkel to my flippers to my "stinger suit" (which you wear to protect you from the potentially deadly box jellyfish that sometimes lurk in the water), and the crew of the Seastar was right there to help. But at last I was all togged up, and with a little backward flip into the water, I was off and swimming out to the reef.
I had no idea there were so many kinds of coral -- soft wavy coral, round hard-looking coral, coral that looks like broccoli, blue coral and green coral and coral that looks like antlers. And everywhere in it were fish -- entire schools of fish, brilliantly yellow and blue and green fish (many of which apparently mate for life -- who knew?), and giant clams and sea cucumbers and sting rays and giant turtles (we saw one that I think was bigger than I am). Unbelievable -- it's a whole other world down there, and I felt privileged to see it. Happpppeeeee.
And as unbelievable as it was, Hastings Reef (on the outer Barrier Reef), our next destination, was more unbelievable still. Because the water is much deeper here, there are larger and more varied fish. First we went on a glass bottomed boat and got a bit of an overview of what was underneath, and then we were back in the water again. The current was much, much stronger here, but there were several of the crew in the water with us, so we felt pretty comfortable. And there were parrot fish nibbling the reef and bat fish and little (harmless) reef sharks and stripy fish and bright blue fish and sea anemones and I lost my little cheat sheet and have no idea what the rest of the fish were, but they were all swimming around me and all wonderful. Happppeeeeee.
We had a fantastic buffet lunch on the boat and I can tell you that something about all that snorkeling and sun and sea water, and then emerging to shiver for a minute until you dry off in the warm air, makes you ravenously hungry. I ate an embarrassing amount of shrimp and salad and lasagna and chicken and cake. It's a good thing I didn't get seasick (at least one poor woman did, and couldn't eat, although she did manage to do some snorkeling after her stomach settled a bit).
(By the way -- a trick for the sea sickness thing -- sit at the back of the boat. Gaze out at the horizon. Keep your head reasonably level as you gaze, but let your body sway with the waves. The crew suggested that, and it worked for me.)
And on the way back, I sat on the front of the ship with the wind in my face and my legs dangling down and the Pacific waves parting in front of the boat, and thought how amazingly wonderful it is to be alive in this world. Happpeeeeeee.
I must put in a bit of a plug for the group I went with -- Seastar. (www.seastarcruises.com.au). I don't get a dime for plugging them, or if you click on the link, and I'm not related to any of the owners or employees, blah blah. I just think they're super, and want to say so. They are a small-family owned company, they only take out small groups of no more than 30 people (some reef tour groups take out vast hordes of tourists), and their crew is absolutely terrific. You can dive or snorkel or both, and they get to the reefs early, so your group has the reefs essentially to itself, which is unbelievable. We had only 12 in our group, and it was more or less just us and the fish and sea birds. You can stick with the group leader, if you're timid, or go off and do your own thing, as you prefer. It doesn't get better than this. If you come here, and you should, you should go out with Seastar. Worth every penny ($155 for the day, including food and equipment) and then some.
When I got back to my room, I took the most delicious hot shower that ever was in this world, and then booked a trip for tomorrow to the Daintree rainforest, Mossman Gorge, and Cape Tribulation. Can't wait! And then I proceeded out to a perfectly fabulous dinner. I'm going to do a separate post in a minute giving you a few "Best of Cairns" highlights, and this restaurant, Mangostins, will certainly be on it. I had the most delicious oysters I've ever had in my life, some lovely pasta with crab, and some delicious cheese and wine. I got a 25% discount on the bill, and the owner gave me two roses for being "so beautiful." (Well, that's what he said!) When he gave me the roses, and I thanked him, he said "you get what you deserve in life". It's hard for me to believe that I've deserved this much. Happpeeeeee.
As soon as I got to Cairns, I walked two blocks from my hotel to the Esplanade, the street running along the coastline, where I expected to find a beach. You'd think my guidebook would have mentioned that it's not beach at all; instead, the entire coastline along Cairns consists of crocodile-infested mud flats. I am not making that up. No sooner had I gotten over the disorientation of finding a vast expanse of mud instead of sand and waves, I spied a sign warning me not to walk in the water, eat, or camp anywhere nearby, because it could potentially lead to a fatal croc attack. I'm not in Manhattan anymore, Toto.
The weird thing is, not 20 yards away from that extremely frightening sign, there's a children's playground. Honest injun there is. It's called Muddy's playground (really!). For about the first time ever, I really wished I had a video camera. I took pictures of the sign and the playground, but only with a video camera could I have captured just how close the sign and the playground are.
Now, I have three small nieces, and one thing I know about little kids is how much they love to play in mud. It seems really odd to put a playground right near the world's largest and most irresistible-looking mud puddle, in an area where small children are liable to become crocodile snacks, but maybe it's just me.
Anyway, rumor has it there are lovely beaches in the nearby town of Fort Douglas, and I think I'll have to spend a day out there to check it out. I got an email from someone in Fort Douglas who read this blog, and offered her assistance if I needed any advice, so I think I'll contact her. (Don't worry Carolynne, I'm not nearly as grouchy as I like to pretend. And you see, Mom? That's the point of a blog. Or part of the point, anyway.)
Today I took the Kuranda scenic railway to Kuranda, went to a sort of rainforest theme park called Rainforestation, and took this Skyrail thing back down to Cairns. It's really the trip up and back down that make it worthwhile -- the train to Kuranda carves along a gorge through the rainforest, and the Skyrail takes you just above the forest canopy for 45 minutes (and also stops at two points so you can check out the Barron waterfall and an area of the forest floor), and it's just breathtaking. It all cost a freaking fortune (my wallet is freely hemorrhaging at this point), but it was really fun.
Kuranda and Rainforestation were about as touristy as humanly possible, and just swarming with Japanese tourists, but they were good guilty fun and hey, in all seriousness, I did learn and see quite a few interesting things. Anyway, they tell me you can't really go hiking in the rain forest because it's a protected area, and Rainforestation gives you a bit of a slice, anyway. (Then again, "They" tell me all kinds of things -- should I believe Them?) I rode in a military "Duck" thing (a vehicle that goes on land and sea through a sealed path in the rainforest and into a little lake. I also went on a boat down the Barron river. What else -- oh yes, I petted a kangaroo, saw a little crocodile in the wild (on the Barron river) and a HUGE one (5 meters long) in Rainforestation. I saw some aborigines dancing, I got boomerang and spear throwing lessons, and I learned what not to touch in the rainforest (just about everything). So, all in all, it was a day well spent. Did I mention that it's all hellishly expensive?
I'm going snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef on Sunday. (That will also cost a bloody fortune, by the way, which is why I'll probably only do it for one day. Tomorrow I think I'm just going to hang around and swim and relax, but we'll see if Carolynne or the Fates provide me with more interesting ideas.
But for now, it's dinner time. You can't expect me to sit around typing all night, can you?
On my last day in Sydney, I decided to check out some live mammals, as opposed to the stuffed ones I was dancing with the previous day at the Australian Museum of natural history. I went to Wildlife World in the morning, and got a close-up view of some koalas and wallabies, along with some assorted other snakes, birds, lizards and insects.
The wallabies were awesome -- I got there at feeding time, and it was a riot to see them all bound forward at once and descend on the food. Two of them had little joeys in their pouches . I just loved them. The koalas are darling too, of course, but all they do is sleep. That's literally true, by the way -- they sleep 20 hours a day. One of the keepers told me, however, that for all their sleepy cuddly-looking demeanor, they are really violent when they mate -- the male pins down the female and bites her viciously. Huh.
Aside: Why is it that various Australians keep telling me about wildlife mating habits? I mean, I'm interested, but I haven't been asking. And it's not part of the official tour or anything. People just seem to like talking to me about the mating habits of the local fauna. Clearly I'm putting out some weird vibes.
I then went for lunch. I decided to grab a quick toasted sandwich, which came with my choice of Kraft cheese, swiss cheese or "tasty" cheese. "What's 'tasty' cheese?" I asked. The guy behind the counter looked a bit flummoxed. I said "Is it like Parmesan? Manchego? Romano?" He said "Well, Miss, you have yer Kraft cheese, which is what you call yer processed cheese. You have yer swiss cheese, which has holes in it. And then there's your tie-sty cheese, which is like your mature cheese." "I see," I said. "It's 'tasty' cheese." "Yeh, that's roight miss. Tie-sty cheese." "I'll have the tasty cheese then." "That's really yer best choice, miss."
In the afternoon I went to the Sydney art museum, which was pleasant but not thrilling. I watched the bats rise out of the botanical gardens at dusk like a cloud (weird!), and scurried back to the hotel to get ready to go out with the one person I know in Sydney (a friend of some friends of mine), and his girlfriend. I'll post some goofy pictures from the evening when I get back home.
After four hours of sleep, I was up to get to the airport for my flight to Cairns, which is where I am now. And since I want to be getting back outside, you're just going to have to wait to hear about that.
