[backlog] Sydney, Third Impression

I wrote this while shivering in line for a horribly nauseating, yet nonetheless extremely satisfying, whale watching tour.

July 7.  Any place can be small and personal once you let it.  The independent places that have all their shit together seem intimidating because they've got no missing puzzle piece whose role you can assume.  But once you've walked the same block a few times and learned the places and faces you'll see around the corner, a place begins to shrink down to its most endearing traits. 

The process of personalization with the transient elements of my experience - namely, the other backpackers, is also interesting.  Knowing me, it's not too surprising that in a short span of time I've found so many people who it's really hard to say goodbye to.  I am surprised, though, how quick people can be to share personal details of their background.  So the question is - do we share our personal details because we feel anonymous or because we need to feel less anonymous?  Do we freely disclose information because it doesn't really matter, or because we need to feel more connected when we are taken out of context a gazillion miles from home? 

I did a lot of thinking on this topic and now I'm going to leave it to you to figure out your personal conclusion. How long do you think you could travel alone while remaining anonymous and only playing very brief roles in other travelers' stories? What information and personal anecdotes would you feel comfortable sharing with people and what would your purpose be in doing so?
 

Love Letter to the Ocean

The mountains are my home, but the ocean is my Mecca.  It is my spiritual home.  Going into the water is a pilgrimage for me. Ever since I got old enough that my parents stopped trying to talk me out of risking hypothermia by diving into glacial waters in subzero temperatures, I can count on one hand the number of times that I did not go into the water when I had the opportunity.  The ocean has more power and greatness than I could ever achieve.  Swimming in its waves is a love affair.  It is different every time.  Sometimes it is calm like a lake, and I can stand still and stare clear to infinity over the surface of the water.  Other times, the wind and waves conspire to create a turbulent obstacle course; white crests boiling over the water's edge and playing dodgeball with me. 

In either case, swimming out from shore is a dangerous game of vertigo.  Vertigo is not our fear of falling, but our fear of our desire to fall (I'm sure this is not the first time that I'm quoting Tomas from Unbearable Lightness of Being on this blog).  And I'm sure this is not the first time that I'm bringing up what Tim, one of our Alaska instructors, told us:  when he was in Antarctica, he was overcome with the urge to go out onto the ice away from McMurdo and walk forever, even though he would likely never find the base again once he got far enough.  Horizontal vertigo, he called it.  It's no different in the water - you start swimming out towards the tops of the waves and want to keep going until you hit the horizon, yet that's a goal you can never achieve. 

So every time I walk away from the ocean at the end of a long, brisk day, I leave a tremendous amount of unfinished business behind - swim to the horizon.  And every time I come back, I must get in again to try and get closer to that goal.  Even though I know that I can never get there, it keeps me getting into the water every time I come back.  Namaste, ocean.  Until next time.

Brisbane

Brisbane is even better than Sydney AND Byron! I can't handle it!

Last night I met up with Robyn and Tom, my friends from Sydney by way of Malaysia and Hong Kong. We got Malaysian food and walked around and giggled and I got lots of inside tips to the city. It's the friends and trees and river that make it feel smaller and more manageable :)

Then today I had the most wonderful and completely unplanned day. Had my first couch surfer meeting with Nikki and her friend Will. Nikki showed me her wonderful home and we basked in the sun and they cooked me lunch and we went for a drive to drop off Will at work. Then it turned out he works at Mount Coot-Tha, a beautiful getaway just outside the city. So after taking our photos at the top, Nikki dropped me off at the bottom and I stumbled through the forest to find my way back to the top again.

My walk involved a 1.5-km aboriginal art loop which included paintings on logs and rocks arranged in certain patterns. The section of the forest had a prehistoric air and an ancient feel to it. I felt lucky to walk through an area rich with so much history but it was also a little Blair Witch, so I was happy when I re-emerged at the top of the mountain and headed for the cafe. 

After a splendid chocolate caramel tart and some unsuccessful haggling for a faded beach towel, I jumped onto the last bus headed back into town (purely because I saw a city bus pull up in front of me) and soon found myself in the hustle and bustle of Queen Mall. The Aussie Target experience was quite disappointing and after some price tag browsing in higher quality shops I determined that I am not, in fact, buying a going out outfit, especially when I can eat sushi to my heart's delight at a fraction of a price. So I have been taking a well deserved break from pasta and peanut butter sandwiches! 

I had spotted the Ferris wheel before dinner and decided to try and walk there afterwards. I realized that I should have saved my appetite for the night noodle house that takes place near the Ferris wheel, but there is always tomorrow night! While enjoying my aerial view, I saw several boats dissecting the river and decided to go there next! When I got to the ferry stop, I had a nice chat with two women from Calcutta and the Philippines who helped me find the free boat that does a round trip in the river. After enjoying a 30-minute peaceful night ride, I got off at a new stop and walked back home (past a bottleshop with imported beer, obviously). Great success! 

Not planning the shit out of this trip has definitely been a personality challenge for me, but it's paying off because I couldn't have planned a day like today if I tried! 

Byron Bay

I took the Greyhound to Byron Bay the night before last.  The bus experience is markedly different from my travels in Asia! The bus had A/C, a toilet with soap and water, and was pretty empty so I had two seats to myself. When I first got on, though, it was so bumpy that I thought I would never get to sleep. But then after an Indian sleeping pill and some shuffling, nine restful hours had somehow slipped by and I was looking out the window at the beach towns counting down the remaining two hours until our arrival. 

I was so glad to be out of Sydney! This town is much more what I'm used to. The main street is set against the beach and some foothills so I feel less claustrophobic. There are fewer cars and more greenery and I'm grateful for the open space. Our hostel, the Arts Factory Lodge, is set back from the main drag and is a peaceful sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of tourists toasting hurrahs to their Endless Summers. 

I met two girls on the Greyhound - Marissa from Madrid and Louise from England - and we have been spending the days and nights together. I also ran into a few friends from Sydney who stayed at the Blue Parrot with me. Everyone is leapfrogging up the east coast! 

Yesterday we walked on the beach and went to the lighthouse at Byron. It's pretty funny how despite the sights, the main tourist attractions often end up being cafés and toilets. I had a nice fourth class scramble (Yosemite third class :) ) back to the beach. There was only one slightly technical move required to avoid getting wet, but overall it was relaxing. I saw some crabs hanging onto a rock along the tide line. 

At night we played cards and went out on the main drag. I made Mezcal Margaritas with pineapple coconut juice that turned out really well. Jacob and I were successful in tracking down dark beers at a couple of the bars. We got back late and the birds were loud at sunrise, so I slept in until 1 today. I love hanging out in my tent so it makes me sleep and sleep. I am so happy to be camping here. 

Today by the time I got up and bargained with the travel agencies, it was 3 pm and just enough time to enjoy the beach with my Greyhound friends and finally go into the ocean!! Swimming is such a pilgrimage for me. The water was warm, warmer than the air, and I stayed in as long as I could handle the waves. Every once in a while a big wave came along and I had to dive underneath its white top to keep my balance, so being in the water was no time to space out and float! 

Tonight we are going to a bar called Cheeky Monkeys (I keep calling it Chunky Monkeys, Ben and Jerry's represent!) for a five dollar dinner and apparently free champagne. Then who knows what the night will bring, but I'm getting up at 8:30 am to go sea kayaking tomorrow, so it's got to be an earlier one! 

Anyway, trip is much more social and I have been doing more hanging out and being less introspective than I expected. It is good because I was hoping to connect with people and go out more, and I'm still getting quality thinking in!

Sydney, Second Impression

 I wrote this when taking a break on my way to the Museum of Contemporary Art.

July 5.  I'm sitting down on a bench for a minute to write because the beauty of being on one's own schedule is doing such things on a whim whenever one is feeling like it.  

Second impression:  Sydney may not be endearingly dilapidated, but it is breathtakingly gorgeous. The historic district is preserved yet polished.  As I walk through the botanical gardens towards The Rocks area, the streets are lined with a mix of taller contemporary buildings and one- or two-story intricate churches, art galleries, and old facades that have retained their original charm and adorable quality.  I want to get lost here for days - to pick a different area to take the train to, walk the streets, find a park bench, settle into the scene, and breathe the city life around me. 

And, hello! There are benches. Without homeless people sitting on them screaming at you about killing people. I'm sorry if that's not a PC or sensitive way of putting it; it's just my experience.

It strikes me how present I have been so far - over 80% present, which is all you can ask for, really.  While some things here are common to the Western world I knew before, portals of familiarity through which I can travel to stay on track in this novel landscape, everything is different enough that it sucks me in and grabs all of my attention.  There is nothing familiar enough that I can tune it out and use that space to be somewhere else. 

Everything is new - the direction that the cars drive, the balcony decorations on the facade behind me, the intensity of the sun, the happy mix of accents assaulting me from all directions.  So for now I am here, letting Sydney fill every cell of my being.

Sydney, First Impression

I wrote this on July 4 while enjoying my first Sydney cappuccino and waiting to check into my hostel.

July 4.  Funny how July 3 just disappeared somewhere into the realm of airspaces and time differences.  Anyway, I have just arrived in SYDNEY, and I know that I shouldn't, but I have trouble not comparing it to my only other solo travel experience of Nepal.  Sydney lacks the quaintness, the childish and endearing appeal of the broken-downness of Pokhara.  It is urban to a fault.  It is developed.  It is its own thing, not trying to fit into its big sister's high heeled shoes.  The people here are no people of the mountains.  Perhaps they are people of the ocean, but it is too early to tell.  Right now, they are still just the faceless people of Sydney.  Of course, there are many escapees from expat paradises, but they don't expect you to be interested in their back story - because that's not what most tourists (or any other tourist except me, for that matter) are here for.

In my only other quasi-solo traveling experience (Nepal), you could identify a tourist a mile apart, and everyone loved each other for it.  I don't stick out like a sore thumb here because of my hair and skin tone.  Perhaps the side of the street that I walk on will give me away eventually.  The air here feels less clean than Spain, with its dusty cars coming at you from the (wrong!) side of the road.  Its advanced state of development breeds a deliberateness  that is borderline cocky, a self-assurance that is borderline arrogant.  And yet it is neither of those, so you can't quite fault it.

Ah, let's give it another hour.

Being a Tourist vs. Being a Traveler

Even thinking about this topic is cliche, but if you have been around the world a little, I'm sure you have wondered at some point how to be a better tourist - in other words, a traveler, world citizen, what have you. 

Sure, it's easy to go to a beach or mountain town where the sands and cliffs take your breath away, the shops offer mementos that are cheap and pretty, and the bars serve up drinks that are strong and sweet. But how do you know if it's the real thing? Is this how the locals dress and what they drink when they go home at night after a hard day's work entertaining visitors? 

And does it matter? If you find a place that is nice, what you find there is at least to some extent unique to that place. So maybe that place is not representative of the entire country, but you're still getting to know some other corner of the world. 

Consider Khao San road in Bangkok, Thailand. A very wise ecology professor once explained that it is a positive feedback loop of "things tourists like." For example, elephant symbols on clothing and room decor, whole traditionally a Cambodian element, have seeped into the everyday objects here because for many visitors, the elephant is a symbol of something authentically Asian. So even if you're technically in the wrong country, all things elephant still sell well, so they continue to propagate.

In this way, Khao San road morphs into its own self-sustaining entity where elephant-stamped items are privy to every corner, and in a way, that is real.

But for me, that's not enough. Here in Cambrils, expats from India, Pakistan, and Thailand sell purses and clothing local to their home countries. I'm sorry, but that is in no way a Catalonian souvenir! So what do you do? 

Here in Cambrils, I was lucky enough to connect with a cousin of a good friend who is originally from the area. We went to a barracks party - kind of like a more chilled-out version of Outside Lands where people don't push each other, drinks are 2 euros instead of 9 bucks (and admission is FREE), and you don't have to hold on to your spot by the stage for dear life so you don't lose all your friends when you go to the bathroom. After I decided that I will forever dislike music festivals, this one was actually a supremely pleasant experience! I loved the sense of community, self-awareness, and a feeling of being at home and fitting in that permeated throughout the crowd. One of the girls explained that she would run into high school friends in the bathroom line and catch up on all the events that happened since they hadn't seen each other in 3 years. 

The first step to enjoying an experience with a language barrier is to have a good attitude and smile about everything.  There is a lack of verbal cues about whether you are having fun, so you have to fill in with body language. And everybody wants to mutually make a good impression, so your body and mind really rally to the cause. I had an awesome experience because I wanted to have an awesome experience, and it really works like that! We stayed out until 4:30 am, and because I told my body not to be tired, I wasn't tired! I didn't even have a headache after alternating tequila, champagne, and beer all night. 

The second step is to think critically and ask lots of questions. I used every opportunity to find out about the culture, dating life, what the young people did, how quickly they grew up, etc. It was a chance for me to learn history and anthropology and a chance for my new friends to practice their English. Win-win! 

The third step is to get off the beaten path. I was one of maybe 5 foreigners at this huge party, and there is no way I could have tracked it down on my own. No tacky elephant symbols anywhere in sight! 

I also did this when I rented a road bike that was 3 times nicer than any bike I have ever touched and did a 50 km loop around the surrounding foothills. I've forgotten how quaint Europe is! The tiny compact streets look like they are cut out of a picture book and the farmland is vast and welcoming. The villages were dead quiet because I was out during the siesta, but all the surroundings are markedly non threatening. No stray dogs chasing me, and the few people I saw were either friendly or indifferent, immune to the hoards of road bikers who pass their homes each day to get their fix of exercise and sightseeing. Doing different activities is a great way to see a place - I was much closer to my surroundings than if I saw them by car or bus (and would have slept through most of the experience in that case 😛)

The final step is to keep putting yourself out there and trying to communicate! There are few things I love more than taking my hodgepodge of languages and trying to have a conversation with someone who grew up speaking something entirely different. Trying to speak the language can also earn you major bonus points, and trying to put yourself out there in other ways can have other rewards. When I wanted to get a bike, I bugged and bugged the shop owner about helmets until he agreed to loan me one for free. They typically don't rent helmets (only for children), and buying one for 20 euros for a 1-day outing seemed a little steep. I finally got a free kids' helmet to use for the day - an element that was vital to my ride. 

It turned out that one of the employees of the local dive shop grew up in the same town and spoke English AND French, so the drive over to the marina was a great way to pick his brain and tell him a little about America. 

My impression of Catalonia so far: the people are spunky and self-aware yet mellow, friendly, and welcoming, and the countryside is beautiful, picturesque, and quaint in a typically European way. Adding it to the list of places where I hope to return :)