Well, it finally feels like Christmas. It's freezing, raining and snowing in the mountains. And this is the end of the Spring, I'm scared to think what New Zealand must be like in the middle of Winter.
Anyway, I just bought a new van, this time a newer and better one, and it's a passanger van and not a camper-van. I think I'll be able to sleep in it by folding the seats, but I will be trying that tonight (it the cold doesn't make me change my mind and look for a central-heated hostel). If that doesn't work, I can try to make some money back by competing with bus companies and start transporting backpackers around. In any case, those of you dying to visit me on the other side of the world will be glad to know that, again, they will have transportation around the country guaranteed (not that I think that will make any of you come).
And not much has happened since my last posting. I changed hostels, because the one I was staying in was one of the most uncomfortable and anti-social ones I've ever stayed at (which didn't stop it from winning the Best Tourism Awards 2 years in a row) and the new place is so nice, that it's been very hard to decide to leave. Nice place and lots of nice fun people, just what every packpacker looks for. Anyway, I decided to pack and head today for Mt. Cook National Park, that hosts the higher mountain in the Australasia continent.
I tested the van yesterday going to the Banks peninsula, a beautiful area not too far from Christchurch with provides spectactular views of its many bays from the mountains and endless photographic opportunities. The main settlement there is Akaroa, the site where the first French settlers arrive and that stills maintains some its French atmosphere (rues instead of streets) and that is filled with beautiful wood houses full of flowers (which, under the heavy rain, was the only sign that is actually Spring).
So, today I begin the exploration of the South Island in my van. I'll keep you informed about how this adventure goes.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
How to become a travel wanker
I first heard the term "travel wanker" while enjoying dinner with some British, Australian and German friends in the laidback Argentinian city of Mendoza and, since then, it's become one of my favorite terms.
For those unfamiliar with the term, as I was then, let me give you a brief description of its "technical" meaning. Wanker is an English term that it initially referred to a person who... ehem... doesn't need other people to have sex. The term then broaded its meaning to include those that have such a high image of themselves that wouldn't consider having sex with anyone else. And that's the most common meaning nowadays. In other words, wanker is what in Spain we would describe a "pringao", "que va de guay" or simply "gilipollas".
So, taking it from there, a "travel wanker", as described by my British friend, would be a person that thinks of himself or herself as being the ultimate traveller, above the hords of pathetic tourists or frivolous backpackers that don't know what REAL traveling is about. And you'd be surprised by the numer of travel wankers I've encountered while traveling as a backpacker.
My friend even came up with a point system to help evaluate a person's level of "travel wankerness". I forgot how the point system actually worked, but most of the attributes that made you earn points are included in my description.
The easiest way to describe a travel wanker is by what he's not, rather than by what he is, since the essence of travel wankerness is trying to be as different as possible from the "standard" travellers. Therefore, if a place, a style, an activity or a type of food is very popular among most travellers, you must avoid it at all costs. Even if it's fun, interesting, beautiful or unique, you cannot afford to be confused with a regular traveller.
Another key element to become a travel wanker is coming up with some sort of unusual hair style. Dread-locks are usually travel wankers' favorite, but being bold, saving only part of your head, long hair, plaits, ... all that is acceptable. And funny facial hair for guys is certainly another plus.
Piercings and tattooes are also a must, and you must try to have as many and as visible as possible, specially now that both tendencies risk becoming mainstream. Piercings in lips, tongue, nipples are great ways to show everybody else that you're a real travel wanker, and ethnic tattooes are also another excellent travel wanker choice.
You must immerse yourself in the local customs. If in Argentina, always prepare mate. If in Australia, play the didgeridoo. And always wear local clothing. In South-America wearing the typical Inca wool hat that covers your ears is an absolute must, and ponchos will make you part of the elite. Australian Aboriginals don't wear any clothes, so while in this country you must try to go shirt-less and bare-foot as often as possible, even if walking on asphalt or broken glass. And wearing the local handycrafts, such as shark-teeth necklaces or wool bags, is always a classic touch. In South-America, a Che Guevara t-shirt must be part of every travel-wanker attire.
Remember that travel wankers are people deeply concern with all (well, let's say most) of the world problems. Therefore, avoid laughing as it's a sign of frivolous attitude. Be specially carefull when around non-travel-wankers, as your fellow mates may think you enjoy their pathetic way of traveling. In fact, try to always avoid regular travellers, talking to them or being seen in the same places. That's the safest rule.
Get involved with the ethnical natives. It doesn't really matter if you really care about them or if you've done anything to improve their living conditions, but wearing a t-shirt with slogans for the "liberation" or "power" of local ethnicities will always make you look like a concerned travel wanker. You must also defend all local practices of the native people, even if they are by all means ridiculous, and take active part in their fights for their rights, even if you don't know what rights they're actually fighting for.
Of course, oppressed people in other countries also make great conversations. In fact, in your limited interactions with regular travelers try to always bring up this subject to show them how deep and cosmopolitan you are and, by opposition, how provincian and heartless they are. But be careful, as the oppressed people subject is quite tricky. For example, Iraqis, Australian Aboriginals or Bolivian farmers are oppressed, but Cubans, women in Islamic countries or people threatened by mafias or terrorists are not. If in doubt, just start bashing the Americans or show your support for any community that hates them.
Looking ecologicaly-conscious is also a great way of being a travel-wanker. And the good thing again is that you simply need to pretend you are like that (you know, wearing the classical "save the Earth" t-shirts), but you don't need to act like that. That way you can drive your highly contaminating old car, avoid recycling stuff
I know, being a travel wanker doesn't look like a lot of fun. You will miss great things just because they're popular with other travellers, you will often look angry because of your continuing concern with all the problems in the world and the fact that you never smile may make you look very unfriendly. But I think the admiration you will gain both from other travellers and locals makes all that pain absolutely worth it.
For those unfamiliar with the term, as I was then, let me give you a brief description of its "technical" meaning. Wanker is an English term that it initially referred to a person who... ehem... doesn't need other people to have sex. The term then broaded its meaning to include those that have such a high image of themselves that wouldn't consider having sex with anyone else. And that's the most common meaning nowadays. In other words, wanker is what in Spain we would describe a "pringao", "que va de guay" or simply "gilipollas".
So, taking it from there, a "travel wanker", as described by my British friend, would be a person that thinks of himself or herself as being the ultimate traveller, above the hords of pathetic tourists or frivolous backpackers that don't know what REAL traveling is about. And you'd be surprised by the numer of travel wankers I've encountered while traveling as a backpacker.
My friend even came up with a point system to help evaluate a person's level of "travel wankerness". I forgot how the point system actually worked, but most of the attributes that made you earn points are included in my description.
The easiest way to describe a travel wanker is by what he's not, rather than by what he is, since the essence of travel wankerness is trying to be as different as possible from the "standard" travellers. Therefore, if a place, a style, an activity or a type of food is very popular among most travellers, you must avoid it at all costs. Even if it's fun, interesting, beautiful or unique, you cannot afford to be confused with a regular traveller.
Another key element to become a travel wanker is coming up with some sort of unusual hair style. Dread-locks are usually travel wankers' favorite, but being bold, saving only part of your head, long hair, plaits, ... all that is acceptable. And funny facial hair for guys is certainly another plus.
Piercings and tattooes are also a must, and you must try to have as many and as visible as possible, specially now that both tendencies risk becoming mainstream. Piercings in lips, tongue, nipples are great ways to show everybody else that you're a real travel wanker, and ethnic tattooes are also another excellent travel wanker choice.
You must immerse yourself in the local customs. If in Argentina, always prepare mate. If in Australia, play the didgeridoo. And always wear local clothing. In South-America wearing the typical Inca wool hat that covers your ears is an absolute must, and ponchos will make you part of the elite. Australian Aboriginals don't wear any clothes, so while in this country you must try to go shirt-less and bare-foot as often as possible, even if walking on asphalt or broken glass. And wearing the local handycrafts, such as shark-teeth necklaces or wool bags, is always a classic touch. In South-America, a Che Guevara t-shirt must be part of every travel-wanker attire.
Remember that travel wankers are people deeply concern with all (well, let's say most) of the world problems. Therefore, avoid laughing as it's a sign of frivolous attitude. Be specially carefull when around non-travel-wankers, as your fellow mates may think you enjoy their pathetic way of traveling. In fact, try to always avoid regular travellers, talking to them or being seen in the same places. That's the safest rule.
Get involved with the ethnical natives. It doesn't really matter if you really care about them or if you've done anything to improve their living conditions, but wearing a t-shirt with slogans for the "liberation" or "power" of local ethnicities will always make you look like a concerned travel wanker. You must also defend all local practices of the native people, even if they are by all means ridiculous, and take active part in their fights for their rights, even if you don't know what rights they're actually fighting for.
Of course, oppressed people in other countries also make great conversations. In fact, in your limited interactions with regular travelers try to always bring up this subject to show them how deep and cosmopolitan you are and, by opposition, how provincian and heartless they are. But be careful, as the oppressed people subject is quite tricky. For example, Iraqis, Australian Aboriginals or Bolivian farmers are oppressed, but Cubans, women in Islamic countries or people threatened by mafias or terrorists are not. If in doubt, just start bashing the Americans or show your support for any community that hates them.
Looking ecologicaly-conscious is also a great way of being a travel-wanker. And the good thing again is that you simply need to pretend you are like that (you know, wearing the classical "save the Earth" t-shirts), but you don't need to act like that. That way you can drive your highly contaminating old car, avoid recycling stuff
I know, being a travel wanker doesn't look like a lot of fun. You will miss great things just because they're popular with other travellers, you will often look angry because of your continuing concern with all the problems in the world and the fact that you never smile may make you look very unfriendly. But I think the admiration you will gain both from other travellers and locals makes all that pain absolutely worth it.
Monday, November 22, 2004
G'd on ya, Australia!!
After almost 3 months in the land Down Under, today I finally left for New Zealand. More precisely, for Christchurch, that only has 300,000 habitants but it still is the largest town in the Southern island and the second largest in the country. As evertytime I spent a lot of time in one country, leaving was a bit sad, specially since it's the country where I spent more time in my trip and after the many great memories I bring with me from there.
Australians are without any doubt the friendliest and more approachable people I have ever met. Cosmopolitan yet humble. Proud citizens of their country, but lacking that annoying nationalistic attitude that many nations (and regions within nations) frequently display (yes, I know you know who I'm talking about). Australians are open, always eager to help, truly funny and very outdoorsy. Sure, they're not the most politically correct people I've seen (specially regarding the still often scorned, although much less than before, Aboriginal culture), but I'm so tired of the worldwide PC obsession that even that is like a breeze of fresh air.
In addition, travelling in Australia is extremely easy, probably easier than anywhere else. Walk into a visitor center and you're likely to come out with enough free guides, maps, accomodation information and activities to fill a container and keep you busy for ten years.
Buying a car is also another pleasant surprise. There are hundreds of extremely cheap cars (less than 1,500 euro) for sale, and the process takes 5 minutes and can be done through the mail. Priscilla is a clear example of that.
Australia is also the land of a thousand landscapes. And although this title can be deservedly claimed but quite a few other countries of its size, the landscapes you will find in Australia are very unlikely to be found elsewhere in the world. Red deserts, giant monoliths, spectacular gorges, croc-infested rivers, sandstones with millions of colors, unreal cliffs,... and animal life so unique and reachable that only Africa is comparable. Without ever visiting a zoo or animal reserve you can see (most at arm's length distance) kangaroos, koalas, guannas, water dragons, whales, dolphins, sharks, turtles, penguins, seals, camels, wombats, platypuses, wallabies, snakes, emus, deers and enough birds and fish to fill out several books.
And if all that wasn't enough, Australia is safe, extremely safe, safer than any country I've visited in my life (with the possible exception of Andorra). My friend Virginia, who is a detective in the New South Wales Police Homicide Department (and brave enough to host me in her Sydney home for quite a few days) is a good example of my point. She's very disapointed because in the over 3 months she's been in the department, she hasn't had any new cases. That is, there hasn't been a single murder in all NSW in 3 months. NONE. And we're talking a state that is double the size of any European country (excluding Russia) and that hosts Australia's largest city (over 4 million), Sydney. Not many countries can present such statistics.
Australia is certainly a unique country and one that will see me again. Someday.
The only truly annoying thing about Australia has little to do with Australia. Ironically, in the country where I found the most welcoming locals I met some of the most unfriendly travellers. And not 2 or 3, but lots and lots of them (and most with a EU passport, for the shame of those of us who also have one). Trying to avoid the crowds of rude, conversationless and unbearable European teenagers soon becomes the main objective of any reasonable traveller visiting the country (specially when traveling in Queensland), and it certainly became mine. Sure there's very nice people travelling in Australia, but it's not easy to find them in the midst of these crowds of partying teenagers (mainly because, as I said, they're also trying to escape from them).
Meanwhile, I'm now in a very different place. The landscape has changed more in the 2 and a half-hour flight to Christchurch than it would in a 4-hour one along the Australian central desert. Flying over the spectacular snowed peaks of New Zealand's Southern island while talking to my Swiss seat companion it was hard to tell whether we were still in Oceania or we were flying over her country's Alps. Soon the mountains gave way to endless green flat meadows, until we landed.
However, once in land the differences seemed to be quite less (except for the fact that Greek souvlakis have beaten kebabs in the battle for the exotic fast-food market): still driving on the "wrong" side of the road, same type of cars, same road signals, people look the same, school kids still wear uniforms and Queen Elisabeth is still smiling in coins and bills. However the Kiwi one-dollar coin is identical to the Australian 2-dollar coin, and the same happens with NZ two-dollar and Australian 1-dollar, dealing to a lot of confusion when paying and opening big-gain opportunities for those willing to introduce 1-dollar coins in Australia.
It's still early to give a true impression of what Christchurch is like (I've only been in New Zealand for around 3 hours), but as I said at the beginning, the town is a lot more quite and relaxed than I had ever expected. But we'll see tomorrow, when I have a chance to walk a bit around it.
Oh, and by the way, I still don't have a mobile here and the guys from Vodafone Australia (why do I always have trouble with this company no matter what country???) have not activated my international roaming (even though I was told they had), so you cannot reach me either at my Australian phone (at least yet). But be patient, maybe tomorrow.
Australians are without any doubt the friendliest and more approachable people I have ever met. Cosmopolitan yet humble. Proud citizens of their country, but lacking that annoying nationalistic attitude that many nations (and regions within nations) frequently display (yes, I know you know who I'm talking about). Australians are open, always eager to help, truly funny and very outdoorsy. Sure, they're not the most politically correct people I've seen (specially regarding the still often scorned, although much less than before, Aboriginal culture), but I'm so tired of the worldwide PC obsession that even that is like a breeze of fresh air.
In addition, travelling in Australia is extremely easy, probably easier than anywhere else. Walk into a visitor center and you're likely to come out with enough free guides, maps, accomodation information and activities to fill a container and keep you busy for ten years.
Buying a car is also another pleasant surprise. There are hundreds of extremely cheap cars (less than 1,500 euro) for sale, and the process takes 5 minutes and can be done through the mail. Priscilla is a clear example of that.
Australia is also the land of a thousand landscapes. And although this title can be deservedly claimed but quite a few other countries of its size, the landscapes you will find in Australia are very unlikely to be found elsewhere in the world. Red deserts, giant monoliths, spectacular gorges, croc-infested rivers, sandstones with millions of colors, unreal cliffs,... and animal life so unique and reachable that only Africa is comparable. Without ever visiting a zoo or animal reserve you can see (most at arm's length distance) kangaroos, koalas, guannas, water dragons, whales, dolphins, sharks, turtles, penguins, seals, camels, wombats, platypuses, wallabies, snakes, emus, deers and enough birds and fish to fill out several books.
And if all that wasn't enough, Australia is safe, extremely safe, safer than any country I've visited in my life (with the possible exception of Andorra). My friend Virginia, who is a detective in the New South Wales Police Homicide Department (and brave enough to host me in her Sydney home for quite a few days) is a good example of my point. She's very disapointed because in the over 3 months she's been in the department, she hasn't had any new cases. That is, there hasn't been a single murder in all NSW in 3 months. NONE. And we're talking a state that is double the size of any European country (excluding Russia) and that hosts Australia's largest city (over 4 million), Sydney. Not many countries can present such statistics.
Australia is certainly a unique country and one that will see me again. Someday.
The only truly annoying thing about Australia has little to do with Australia. Ironically, in the country where I found the most welcoming locals I met some of the most unfriendly travellers. And not 2 or 3, but lots and lots of them (and most with a EU passport, for the shame of those of us who also have one). Trying to avoid the crowds of rude, conversationless and unbearable European teenagers soon becomes the main objective of any reasonable traveller visiting the country (specially when traveling in Queensland), and it certainly became mine. Sure there's very nice people travelling in Australia, but it's not easy to find them in the midst of these crowds of partying teenagers (mainly because, as I said, they're also trying to escape from them).
Meanwhile, I'm now in a very different place. The landscape has changed more in the 2 and a half-hour flight to Christchurch than it would in a 4-hour one along the Australian central desert. Flying over the spectacular snowed peaks of New Zealand's Southern island while talking to my Swiss seat companion it was hard to tell whether we were still in Oceania or we were flying over her country's Alps. Soon the mountains gave way to endless green flat meadows, until we landed.
However, once in land the differences seemed to be quite less (except for the fact that Greek souvlakis have beaten kebabs in the battle for the exotic fast-food market): still driving on the "wrong" side of the road, same type of cars, same road signals, people look the same, school kids still wear uniforms and Queen Elisabeth is still smiling in coins and bills. However the Kiwi one-dollar coin is identical to the Australian 2-dollar coin, and the same happens with NZ two-dollar and Australian 1-dollar, dealing to a lot of confusion when paying and opening big-gain opportunities for those willing to introduce 1-dollar coins in Australia.
It's still early to give a true impression of what Christchurch is like (I've only been in New Zealand for around 3 hours), but as I said at the beginning, the town is a lot more quite and relaxed than I had ever expected. But we'll see tomorrow, when I have a chance to walk a bit around it.
Oh, and by the way, I still don't have a mobile here and the guys from Vodafone Australia (why do I always have trouble with this company no matter what country???) have not activated my international roaming (even though I was told they had), so you cannot reach me either at my Australian phone (at least yet). But be patient, maybe tomorrow.
12 Apostles and 1,000 views
My trip along the Great Ocean Road was truly memorable, with views that completely surpassed all my expectations. The Twelve Apostles is the most typical picture of this road, but I found other sections even more impressive.
I decided to extend my 2-day rental car to three days and go to the Grampians, the Blue Mountains little sisters, and stop at Sovereign Hill, which turned out to be a shabby gold-rush-based Disneyland, on my way back to Melbourne.
Everything about this trip as usual, when I have time.
I decided to extend my 2-day rental car to three days and go to the Grampians, the Blue Mountains little sisters, and stop at Sovereign Hill, which turned out to be a shabby gold-rush-based Disneyland, on my way back to Melbourne.
Everything about this trip as usual, when I have time.
Sunday, November 14, 2004
Farewell Priscilla, hello Melbourne
Regarding my trip to Melbourne, I decided to let destiny decide. I put notices selling my van for a dream price (so I had some room to negotiate) in most of the hostels around Kingcross and Central Station (typical backpacker areas). If I received a reasonable offer within 2 or 3 days, I would sell Priscilla and fly to Melbourne. If not, I would take her with me.
And everything worked out a lot better that I had ever dreamed of. Two hours after I put the notices I got an email from a French couple that wanted it. I told them the little problems that Priscilla has to manage their expectations, but they still wanted. And when they saw her the day after, they gave me $500 deposit so they could buy it the next day. So, in one day I had sold Priscilla, being honest about the problems it had and making a profit (30% more than the price I bought it for). I must say that it was sad to leave her after over 1 and a half months together, but I was so happy that I everything worked out so good (the comments of some people I met along the way made me think I could never sell it for more than $1,000) that I bought my ticket to Melbourne right away.
Unfortunately, I was so excited that I didn't stop to read that the computer was telling me that there were no available dates on the date I wanted to travel and had given me an alternative, that I happily booked without noticing it. So, when I walked to the Qantas check in counter, I was told that I had to wait... 48 hours for my flight, as I was supposed to fly saturday. Luckyly for me, the girl at the counter let me change the ticket for a fee and I was able to fly that same day (although for a quite higher price).
When I arrived in Melbourne it was raining cats and dogs, so I decided to travel straight away to Phillip Island, since there's little better to do with that weather than being in a bus. The next day was surprisingly sunny, so I rented a bike and did some walkings in the island, stopping at the famous racing circuit.
Unfortunately, as the highlight of my trip to the island was getting closer (the famous penguin parade), so did a bunch of clouds. So by the time we where all the beach (after passing under surreal signs counting the minutes left before the penguins arrive, as if they were coming by plane), it started pouring as if all the water in the world were falling on us.
Despite the tragical conditions, watching hundreds of little penguins (the smallest in the world) come out of the water in big groups, helping each other re-align their feathers, hesitating before jumping over a big step to fall down it when the penguins behind him came pushing was a wonderful experience. The 2-hour ride back to Melbourne, completely soaked and arriving and midnight was not so pleasant.
And unfortunately that's what the weather in Melbourne has been like since I arrived. Clouds, rain, then sun. Clouds. Sun. Rain. Rain. Rain. No wonder when the Brits arrived here they felt at home!
So after doing some sightseeing yesterday and meeting Virginia's brother, Alex, and his friends for a fun night in the city, today I'm planning on seeing the rest of it... without getting too wet. Tomorrow I'm renting a car for two days to travel the famous Great Ocean Road. I was thinking of trying to find people to share the costs, but this morning I've decided to do it by myself, as I really want to relax and enjoy what promises to be a breath-taking scenery with the only company of my camera. I'll tell you all about it in my next post.
Oh, and I finally have a new mobile (4th one in this trip), so all of you that were dying to call me or text me can do it again. It's a Vodafone, so it may be cheaper with those that have mobiles from this company: +61 424 46 94 94
And everything worked out a lot better that I had ever dreamed of. Two hours after I put the notices I got an email from a French couple that wanted it. I told them the little problems that Priscilla has to manage their expectations, but they still wanted. And when they saw her the day after, they gave me $500 deposit so they could buy it the next day. So, in one day I had sold Priscilla, being honest about the problems it had and making a profit (30% more than the price I bought it for). I must say that it was sad to leave her after over 1 and a half months together, but I was so happy that I everything worked out so good (the comments of some people I met along the way made me think I could never sell it for more than $1,000) that I bought my ticket to Melbourne right away.
Unfortunately, I was so excited that I didn't stop to read that the computer was telling me that there were no available dates on the date I wanted to travel and had given me an alternative, that I happily booked without noticing it. So, when I walked to the Qantas check in counter, I was told that I had to wait... 48 hours for my flight, as I was supposed to fly saturday. Luckyly for me, the girl at the counter let me change the ticket for a fee and I was able to fly that same day (although for a quite higher price).
When I arrived in Melbourne it was raining cats and dogs, so I decided to travel straight away to Phillip Island, since there's little better to do with that weather than being in a bus. The next day was surprisingly sunny, so I rented a bike and did some walkings in the island, stopping at the famous racing circuit.
Unfortunately, as the highlight of my trip to the island was getting closer (the famous penguin parade), so did a bunch of clouds. So by the time we where all the beach (after passing under surreal signs counting the minutes left before the penguins arrive, as if they were coming by plane), it started pouring as if all the water in the world were falling on us.
Despite the tragical conditions, watching hundreds of little penguins (the smallest in the world) come out of the water in big groups, helping each other re-align their feathers, hesitating before jumping over a big step to fall down it when the penguins behind him came pushing was a wonderful experience. The 2-hour ride back to Melbourne, completely soaked and arriving and midnight was not so pleasant.
And unfortunately that's what the weather in Melbourne has been like since I arrived. Clouds, rain, then sun. Clouds. Sun. Rain. Rain. Rain. No wonder when the Brits arrived here they felt at home!
So after doing some sightseeing yesterday and meeting Virginia's brother, Alex, and his friends for a fun night in the city, today I'm planning on seeing the rest of it... without getting too wet. Tomorrow I'm renting a car for two days to travel the famous Great Ocean Road. I was thinking of trying to find people to share the costs, but this morning I've decided to do it by myself, as I really want to relax and enjoy what promises to be a breath-taking scenery with the only company of my camera. I'll tell you all about it in my next post.
Oh, and I finally have a new mobile (4th one in this trip), so all of you that were dying to call me or text me can do it again. It's a Vodafone, so it may be cheaper with those that have mobiles from this company: +61 424 46 94 94
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Back in Sydney and the (Green) Blue Mountains
Well, Priscilla, Helena (my Greek friend) and I made it back to Sydney, after 800 km. and almost 12 hours in the road. A very tirening trip, but it's good to be here.
We then went 3 days to the Blue Mountains, a beautiful range of mountains with spectacular cliffs and valleys that is claimed to have a blueish haze due to the oil eucaliptus release into the air. But whatever they say, they looked pretty green to me. We camped and cooked in the van, and one day, under the rain, we met Neil the "Swag Man", a real-life bush guy who has been leaving in the wild, with only his swag (a sort of water-proved matress very common in Australia) and his bag after his wife, a drug dealer, was murdered. He showed us some pretty cool places and told us some (hard to believe) stories about his life, and we even tried to go to the cave where he was going to camp in the middle of the forest, but couldn't get there because the river was to high and strong after the morning heavy rain.
Back in Sydney now, I'm thinking about trying to sell my van and enjoy my last days in Sydney before heading for New Zealand, or driving to Melbourne and back on my van. Since that involves another almost 2,000 km. on the road, the first option is becoming the most likely one.
So stay tune, as my Aussie mobile number may be completely (and for good) out of service in the following days. Oh, and the full story of "Cairns, Cape Tribulation and Priscilla" is already online, if you want to read it.
We then went 3 days to the Blue Mountains, a beautiful range of mountains with spectacular cliffs and valleys that is claimed to have a blueish haze due to the oil eucaliptus release into the air. But whatever they say, they looked pretty green to me. We camped and cooked in the van, and one day, under the rain, we met Neil the "Swag Man", a real-life bush guy who has been leaving in the wild, with only his swag (a sort of water-proved matress very common in Australia) and his bag after his wife, a drug dealer, was murdered. He showed us some pretty cool places and told us some (hard to believe) stories about his life, and we even tried to go to the cave where he was going to camp in the middle of the forest, but couldn't get there because the river was to high and strong after the morning heavy rain.
Back in Sydney now, I'm thinking about trying to sell my van and enjoy my last days in Sydney before heading for New Zealand, or driving to Melbourne and back on my van. Since that involves another almost 2,000 km. on the road, the first option is becoming the most likely one.
So stay tune, as my Aussie mobile number may be completely (and for good) out of service in the following days. Oh, and the full story of "Cairns, Cape Tribulation and Priscilla" is already online, if you want to read it.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Groovy days at Byron Bay
I left Brisbone, walked up to Mt. Warning to see the sunrise and landed in Byron Bay, where I expected to spend a couple days but spent a whole week. It's not that there's a lot to do there, but it's such a nice place and I met such a great group of people, that I just couldn't make myself leave.
I stayed at the Arts Factory, and old hippie place that has managed to maintain part of its philosophy, despite most of its guests seem to think that being hippie is simply wearing long hair and walking barefoot. The place had a lot of activities going on, and I decided to explore most of them: I learned to play the didgeridoo, discovered how exhausting a yoga class can be, sat through a movie on a cushion-sofa, enjoyed some aboriginal dances and ate wraps and drink beer while listening to live bands at the (it couldn't have another name) Buddha Bar. And, as Byron Bay is also one of the main spots for surfing, tried this sport by myself and was able to stand on the board (yes, a very long board) on my first day.
Before reaching Brisbane, I had only met 3 Spaniards in my 2 months in Australia, confirming my theory that discovering other cultures is unfortunatelly not one of the favorite activities of my fellow countrymen. However, in Byron Bay I met 5 more, 4 or them staying at the same hostel as me!! It seems this place acts like a black hole for all Southern Europeans, as over 3 forths of all the Mediterranean people I've met in Australia were staying at this wonderful town.
But the time to leave finally came and yesterday I drove to Sydney with Priscilla and Helena, a Greek girl from our group in Byron Bay that certainly made the 12-hour trip much more enjoyable.
I stayed at the Arts Factory, and old hippie place that has managed to maintain part of its philosophy, despite most of its guests seem to think that being hippie is simply wearing long hair and walking barefoot. The place had a lot of activities going on, and I decided to explore most of them: I learned to play the didgeridoo, discovered how exhausting a yoga class can be, sat through a movie on a cushion-sofa, enjoyed some aboriginal dances and ate wraps and drink beer while listening to live bands at the (it couldn't have another name) Buddha Bar. And, as Byron Bay is also one of the main spots for surfing, tried this sport by myself and was able to stand on the board (yes, a very long board) on my first day.
Before reaching Brisbane, I had only met 3 Spaniards in my 2 months in Australia, confirming my theory that discovering other cultures is unfortunatelly not one of the favorite activities of my fellow countrymen. However, in Byron Bay I met 5 more, 4 or them staying at the same hostel as me!! It seems this place acts like a black hole for all Southern Europeans, as over 3 forths of all the Mediterranean people I've met in Australia were staying at this wonderful town.
But the time to leave finally came and yesterday I drove to Sydney with Priscilla and Helena, a Greek girl from our group in Byron Bay that certainly made the 12-hour trip much more enjoyable.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)