The fifth and final country of my trip around the world was
Australia. My two days in Sydney
coincided with perfect “spring weather,” making my tendency to see a city by
walking much more pleasant. I walked
from my hotel in Potts Point to the famous opera house on the shore, and I
later decided to jump on the double decker bus as a good way to get my
bearings. Sydney easily could be
nominated as a “communicative city” for providing marvelous paths, parks and
comfortable “third places.” It’s also
very expensive, with $4 small coffees and average lunches going for high
prices. It didn’t get any better as I
proceeded through Australia, and even a New Yorker I ran into said the high
cost surprised even a Manhattan native.
But I enjoyed everything nonetheless.
Next, a plane ride took me to Uluru (also called Ayers Rock),
the big red sandstone rock that’s famous and easily a magnet for
photographers. The spring weather turned
to intense heat, with a temperature of about 93 degrees when we arrived. All of the hotels are in a circle a short
ride from the airport, and they share a free shuttle around the circle, and to
and from the airport. We landed early
afternoon, and, not wasting any time, I signed up for the evening dinner,
“sounds of silence,” situated in the outback.
Two busloads of folks paying $167 each were driven to a remote spot
where tables of eight were set with white table cloths located on a red
sandstone clearing surrounded by a scattering of trees and brush. Leaving the bus, we climbed a small hill to
be greeted with glasses of champagne and an entertaining fellow playing the didgeridoo,
a native wooden instrument operated with his breathing and nimble hands. A glass or two of wine or beer and some h’orderves
of crockadile, kangaroo and an Australian fish put us in the mood for our
continued journey down another slope to the dining area. It was a night of more wine, a buffet of
lamb, fish, and all the fixings, and the sounds of conversation, plus a brief
amusing monologue about the stars on a cloudy night once we finished desert and
a glass of port. I was the old guy at a
table with a couple of 30+ hikers from Britain with an ecological attitude and
two 25-35 ish couples from Sydney, one Asian, the other a Greek fellow and his
“English” wife. Learning I was from
Cleveland, the two fellows asked what team I rooted for. I forgave the one fellow for being a
Heat-LeBran James fan. When everyone was
completely quiet, the only sound was wind through the brush. A delightful evening.
I also had signed up for a sunrise trip, so I had to be
ready by 5 a.m. for a small van and the guide to take me and nine other folks
to another remote area where they offered us blue berry muffins, coffee and tea
while the cook prepared an egg and bacon sandwich on a fresh breakfast muffin. Later as the sunrise emerged he brought up
delicious “bush bread” baked in a small oven used in the outback. After the sun rise, we were driven to Uluru
itself for a two hour talk, walk and drive around Uluru in the National Park
area. Our guide was more than just
knowledgeable. By 10:30 a.m. we were
back at our hotels, in time for what would normally be rising temps, but it
turned out to be a mild day with sprinkles that are rare this time of the year
(la Niña, again). My last night there I
treated myself to more red meat than I’ve eaten in a year—a barbecue of crock
and kangaroo on skewers along with sausages of buffalo, emu, and beef. I gave half away since I’m not used to eating
that much heavy meat. The only thing I
didn’t try was a camel burger—just ran out of time. Since introduced a century ago, the camels
have multiplied in the wild and are a pest of sorts.
The next day I traveled by bus to Kings Canyon, where I was
challenged to walk the rim. I was the
“old guy” and the guide said I should try the first 200 steep steps and see if
it was for me. I had to stop numerous
times but I made it up the 500 initial steps and then on through the three and
a half hour trek through the top rim of the canyon and back down to our bus. Along the canyon walk we stopped at the
“garden of Eden,” where some folk’s skinny dipped. I didn’t.
After the canyon, we were driven to Alice Springs, where there’s a
sizeable aborigine presence. I was only
there two nights and I mostly just walked around, having had enough tours for a
while.
Next, a flight took me to Cairns, for reef, rainforest and
relaxation. The first day I took a tour
up a rainforest area where I had a chance to “hug a koala,” as they say, and
pet a few tame kangaroos. We also toured
a rainforest area, then went up to a largely tourist village surrounded by the forest.
And I came down on a cable car that took
about two hours. Had a good time,
despite a few showers while I was in the cable car. Next day, I took a tour to the Australian
Great Barrier Reef after listening to the options of a transplanted Canadian
tour vender. I’m not the greatest
swimmer and this particular tour included a submerged glass bottom boat as well
as opportunities to try your hand at several other things. I snorkeled in the beginners’ area long
enough to see the coral and colorful fishes.
After a buffet lunch and more opportunity to get sunburned, the boat
headed back to shore on the hour and a half trip. Another good day. And I ended as I began with a lot of walking
and eating, plus a few Australian beers and glasses of wine. The esplanade winds its way as a boardwalk
along the water, with a swimming pool and parkland integrated into it. Sidewalk cafes line the street. The architecture of the area is quite
charming, reminding me of several styles from other cultures, with sidewalks
under second story structures. On my
last day I took in a first-run movie (Safe
House) to get out of the heat since I had already had to check out of my
hotel room (A$16.50, or US$17.50-$19, depending on the poor exchange rate).
Political Controversy
Follows Me, Dominates News Media
Almost without exception, I arrived in countries with local
political scandals that consumed the media.
The exception would be Ethiopia, where I didn’t have much time or access
to media and didn’t see much in the line of politics. But Indian newspapers and television news
were dominated by a local political scandal in one of the most important
regions. Then the Philippines provided
the best example with its wall to wall television coverage of the impeachment
trial of the chief justice of the Supreme Court; here I found people talking
about it, and I even tried to attend one of the hearings but, without a cell
phone to be contacted would not know when to be let in (one of my former
students is a lawyer who knew one of the Congressman and she put my name on a
guest list when she learned of my interest, which was considerable). When I get home I’m going to seek out more on
what’s happened---It was fascinating, much like the Bork and Watergate
hearings, if that means anything to those under 50. In Cambodia, I heard complaints that the
media were too frightened of the government and Vietnamese influence next door
to offer critical coverage of the government.
And in Australia I arrived as the Labor Party was having a leadership
struggle that, from what appeared to the non-critical eye was as much
personality as policy. I’ve missed my
daily newspaper habit that I had hoped would be fed with copies of the International Herald Tribune, but I had
difficulty locating it except in the Philippines. For a long time I’ve thought American
regional media (like the Plain Dealer)
focused on national and local news to the extent that a well-rounded
international roundup suffered. But,
after this trip, I guess I think the generalization applies around the world as
represented by this non-scientific sample.
I recall the research from years ago, and found myself seeing it verified
in the local media. Disaster continues
to promote news worthiness from abroad (where ever the local is). Later in Hawaii, I enjoyed reading the Star Advertiser, which had a two-page
broadsheet section with international stories numbered to match a map.
I ended my trip to
Australia with a long flight out of Cairns to Guam (slated to leave at 1:10
a.m. but not getting out the gate until about 2 o’clock), arriving at 6:45
a.m., too late for the direct flight to Honolulu. Instead, I was put on the “puddle jumper,”
which left at 9 a.m. and hopped from one island in Micronesia to another,
stopping at five islands between Guam and Honolulu. I decided to “make lemonade” when given this 14-hour lemon of a trip rather
than fret about the time, so I took photos of each enchanting island where
pictures were allowed (one was a military base) or it wasn’t too dark. Along the way we encountered lots of local
folk in colorful dress, many wearing leis as they do in Hawaii, as well as
backpackers, surfers and trekkers going from one island to another. The views from the air are marvelous, shades
of coral, atolls, small islands and beautiful bays on islands covered with lush
green rainforest. Because the islands
are a territory and not a state, the security measures took almost as much time
as the flying. Folks in steerage had to
take their carry ons and leave the plane at each stop while security folks came
in and “swept” the cabin. We folks in
business could stay as long as we got out of the way and identified our
luggage. So a 45 minute stop interrupted
flights lasting about 50 minutes to an hour and a quarter. The local TSA folk were actually quite
efficient, as was the Continental/United flight crew (their 14-hour day must
have been grueling, since each leg required them to go through all the procedures,
serve drinks and food, all done with cheer and grace. My departure from Cairns came on the first
day the computer systems of United and Continental were fully merged. And there were a couple hiccups, though it
worked out reasonably well.
A Hawaiian Postscript
Honolulu was the sixth stop of my 14-legged flight plan. Since I crossed the international date line,
I experienced two Mondays. I had not
been in Hawaii since an academic conference more than a decade ago. A former Peace Corps Volunteer from my days
in the Philippines generously put me up, and we had a chance to drive around
and see the areas where I trained as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Hawaii many years
ago. I didn’t go to the Big Island where
I spent the first week or so, but I did see Ewa Beach and Waipahu, the former
where I had a sleeping bag on one of the bowling lanes of an old abandoned
facility where some of us were billeted.
I also had been given the name of someone at a local brew pub by one of
the fellows at my old watering hole in Ohio City, the Great Lakes Brew
Pub. So, of course I had to check out
their brew too. And I had the chance to
have lunch with another PCV from my Philippine Group (#28, a I recall). Loved the fresh guava juice and fruit in
Hawaii, and I brought home some Kona coffee and macadamia nut pancake mix.
