Being the free spirit I so convincingly pretend to be, I very rarely make plans while traveling. Much like life, this can make for good stories as well as missed opportunities. The lack of planning not only makes Jackie and myself such great travel mates, but it also left us in a position to book a flight up to Cairnes 36 hours prior to boarding, causing a rise in anxiety for her and an unwanted depletion in the bank for me.
The last night in Melbourne began with a failed attempt to make it to Philip Island and see the adorable baby penguins in what is known as the Penguin Parade at sunset and ended with us sleeping upright under fluorescent lights at the airport. We made a quick stop in between in search of a lamington, which is some sort of Australian-specific dessert and looks tolerable so for our Valentine's date we had planned on trying it out together. No such luck after the sun dips below the horizon, as we were repeatedly told to try a bakery - during the day. After returning our trusty vehicle to Red Spot days early we set up shop on the top floor of the airport where I had maybe my best sleep yet this trip and Jackie wrapped herself in her lime green sleep sack in such a ridiculous manner that at one point in the evening I was actually awoken by the flash of a fellow flyer snapping a photo of the asinine American seated in the massage chair, surrounding my bags, and wrapped up like a Christmas present.
We made our early flight into Cairnes and as soon as we de-boarded we could tell we had entered a different world. It had been hot in Australia, but this is a sticky heat that only exists in truly tropical climates, where your hair never quite dries and your face, no matter how much Covergirl pressed powder you apply, will never become matte. I was happy to be here, as it felt different - for perhaps the first time since we landed on this godforsaken continent. We quickly located a Northern Greenhouse in the Lonely Planet that offered free breakfast and having stayed in their sister location in Melbourne we felt like this was a good bet. It was. We immediately signed up for the free tour of the Botanic Gardens and after unloading our bags into mixed dorm room #27 we raced back out into the sun where, after the guide asked if I was Brazilian - just wanted to throw that out there - we walked leisurely through the gardens until there was not a leaf left unturned and befriended two Israeli girls for a lunch of $13 toast and juice. Soon there after yet another snackwas greedily consumed when we finally located a lamington - a white sponge cake with a chocolate and coconut covering - in other words - heaven. An incredibly nice lady provided us with the confection and 2 spoons with which to share our midday dessert - proving that perhaps there are at least a few nice Aussies.
Catching the public bus back to the hostel and heading straight to the Cairnes Art Museum proved discouraging as it smelled like dirty penny but after a quick rain shower we were back out to wander on the Esplanade and check out the endless souvenir shops where I was on a mad quest to find some requested authentic Aboriginal art. As I may have mentioned, not much about this journey had provided the opportunity for interaction with authentic culture, so as I sifted through piles of penguin magnets and wallaby wallets I was not feeling super in touch with the native people of this land.
With too much pure sugar in my blood stream the past few days I made the call for a real, grown up dinner for the evening entertainment so we dined at Vue on the Esplanade, where Jackie had the fisherman's basket and I had the saltiest mashed potatoes I have ever laid tongue upon. For anyone who knows me, hypertension is not a concern of mine and I heavily salt many of my meals, so when I make note that something was so salty I felt myself bloat almost instantly - I mean it. A quick ice cream cone and yoga session by the Lagoon, which seems to be the only accessible, if man made, body of water available in the city, and we were back 'home' and off to bed.
I was up early the next morning for yet another New York meeting that was Friday night for NYC and Saturday morning for me and a tearful phone call with my big sister - because I no longer know how to have any other kind. After Jackie rose we chose to go to the Aboriginal Cultural Park for the day. I had been dying to get some sort of Aboriginal experience and it is very difficult to do so on the coast so I almost didn't mind the $40 entrance fee to the park. My mind may have shifted slightly as we witnessed a series of performances in a series of lackluster buildings and sets. It is not that I didn't appreciate the playing of the Didgeridoo or information about the creation myth the Tjapukai tribe is based on, but I could not help but be saddened by a culture that has been reduced to body painting themselves for Korean tour groups who's flashing cameras blind them if they do so much as scratch their head. Of course, the Aboriginal guide was pretty much the first man I have found to be attractive since arriving here - so my father was pretty much on the money when assuming where my interests would lie. The highlight for me, however - and possibly of the entire trip so far- was an older man who's nametag read Ernest and hairstyle read Gheri Curl who was literally a fountain of information about history and cultural ceremonies and didn't seem at all bothered to talk with me for nearly an hour after the tour had ended. He even went so far as to talk me through my spear throwing lesson - and although Jackie may have been a better boomaranger - I got her spear technique beat for sure!
Hailing the bus on the side of the highway to make our way back to the city it was almost a mirage when, pulled up in front of the Center for Contemporary Art in Cairns, there were was an installation of Starbust Babies candy - Jackie's latest obsession and a sugary treat available in any 7/11 or Woolworths worth its weight. Nothing says come on in like life-sized gummy candy so we took a quick spin before heading back to the hostel to bond with two of our English roommates and dining on peanut butter and crackers in the top bunk.
I took a quick break to go access some internet where I had a semi-surreal experience as I had my first Aussie romance. I walked over to the lounge when I saw a man immediately head over, sit close by and ask where I was from. We ended up chatting and at one point he explained that he didn't like thin women and that he liked me because I was natural - the same way people described Mamma Cass if my memory serves me correctly. He is a butcher by trade - one I have most certainly never had before and not long after he asked if I would want to meet up for a chat or a drink later. When I agreed he pointed out that we had yet to introduce ourselves. I said my name is Briana - and he said I am Danny. Seriously? Out of all the names in the whole world you must possess the name of 2 men who have actually broken my heart - one much more recently than the other? Absurd. He said - your name is nice. I said - yours in common. Not really a compliment by any means. Good lord, I have said this before and I will say this again - my life would be a comedy of errors if it were at all funny.
Feeling ill prepared for my first dive tomorrow, we made our way back out into the streets of Cairnes to purchase towels for the adventure the following morning. Instead, we bought candy and sampled the local flavor of Nando's - some Australian chicken chain that I may have to add to my list of affordable faves here. A long chat and a longer walk home left me with a half packed bags, a rented underwater camera and a stomach of nerves for my first underwater experience in the morning - diving the Great Barrier Reef.
Wish me luck...
No comments:
Post a Comment