Outback with the Roos

I figured it was time for a change in pace so I rented a car. I love napping in hammocks and lounging around beach communities just as much as the next guy, but I also wanted to see what else Oz has to offer, so I decided that the best way to cover the most ground was behind the wheel of an automobile. I packed up the Nissan Tilda and headed west.

Just twenty minutes out of Cairns I hit the rainforest. I love the way the rainforest feels. The cool, misty air creates a perfect balance of temperature and humidity while the multitudes of insects, birds, and mammals all chirp and chime. It is always hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that at one time the vast consortium of trees, vines, and plants were all seeds once. I don’t know why I always think that, but it is so impressive how life flourishes in the right environment, much like the coral reef.

Since I am in Australia I am determined to see the local wildlife. For some reason I am really into seeing wildlife in it’s natural habitat. There was a koala farm (I don’t think they called it a farm, but I can’t remember what they called it, a reserve or something, whatever you get the point) that I passed straight by. Anyone can go to the zoo and see a koala, but I wanted to see a wild koala. I told that to an Australian guy at the hostel the other night and he said, “why would you wanta see one ‘a those, the lazy little fucks. They sleep like 18 hours a day.” Dale, the Australian guy, has not had a vacation in 8 years and I think it might be time. I hiked through the rainforest for an hour and drive through the entire drivable area and I didn’t see one damn koala. I’m writing a letter to the minister of tourism. Freaking lazy koalas. I stopped by the forest ranger and she told me that they are nocturnal, so I would have to pretty much climb a tree to see one. The ranger station is also a quasi-educational center and for $16 you can have your picture taken holding a live koala. I thought about it, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted my wild koala.

I left the rain forest and headed for the outback. It is fairly comical how the rainforest ends and the desert begins. It is almost like there is a border, there is no thinning out of the forest, then shrubs, then dirt, kind of easing into the desert. Nope. It’s just trees, then no trees. I was flabbergasted driving and looking in my rear view mirror because once you get far enough out of the dense forest into the wide open outback you can look back at the forest and it looks out of place. It made me laugh, like the forest was on it’s way somewhere else and got lost.

The outback is a completely different world from the forest. I guess that goes without saying, though. While driving through I did get to see wild kangaroos. They are hilarious looking, just jumping around. I ended up driving for about 6 hours. The driving is fun and nerve racking at the same time. The roads are your standard two lane roads and you drive through livestock fields, but the difference is the livestock and wildlife are all on the road because there is no chicken wire or fencing to keep them off of the road. I would be driving then all of a sudden there would be a warthog, or a kangaroo, or a huge cow in the middle of the road.I even got stopped by a two cows and their calf. The calf, in typical child-like fashion, was taking his sweet ass time crossing the road too.

I had taken all of my things and checked out of the hostel, fully intending to find a place to stay in the outback, the only problem was finding a place to stay.Apparently the little towns of 30 and 40 people that dot the outback don’t feel that a bed and breakfast or hotel is a viable business in the undesirable outback. Probably a sound bet since 5 hours away is a beautiful rainforest or beach, but I didn’t care about logic, I just needed a place to stay. I kept driving west, thinking that I would stumble upon a flashing neon sign that said “This Is Just What You’re Looking For” but I didn’t see one, so I turned around. I had noticed a neat looking place in the rainforest so I headed back. I was not looking forward to the drive back, seeing as I was a little tired now and I really didn’t feel like playing another round of “Dodge that Oversize Mammal.” Eventually I made it, and I am glad that I did. This hostel is right in the middle of the rainforest. It’s the next best thing to staying in a tree house. 350 miles, no wild koalas, and too many close calls with cows to count, I am in the Kuranda rainforest. I just hope the screens on the windows don’t have holes because everything in Australia is poisonous. I guess I’ll find out…

Planning a Trip

I have already fallen into the lifestyle here in Cairns. Today I decided to get some housekeeping done by doing some laundry, restocking on groceries, and planning my next few days here. Cairns is in a great spot for seeing a number of things and I wanted to see what exactly was on offer. I am not much of a planner, though, so I was working in a field that I am no expert in.

I woke up around 10 and got started on my busy day. I made my way down to the McDonalds so that I could check my e-mails and get a few tips from my travel planner Google. I quickly got distracted by a few of the folks at the hostel, so my 10am McDonalds target quickly became a 12:30 McDonalds time, and now instead of being a solo act, I was joined by 3 other laptop toting guys, free internet seekers. We got to McDs and set up shop. As I started to turn my computer on we all began talking and as soon as the internet turned on we were all basking in the hilarity that the internet has to offer. Videos, songs, and pictures flickered from one screen to the other as we all got preoccupied doing everything but the business we came to conduct. Eventually all of our batteries died and we headed back to the hostel with nothing accomplished.

I decided to take a nap when I got back, after all I had been up for nearly five hours and I had almost gotten something done for the day, so I needed to rest up for the next half of the day when my plan to plan things would likely come to fruition. This hostel has a bunch of hammocks, so I picked one out, got about one sentence into my magazine, and fell fast asleep.

When I awoke I looked at the time and realized it was dinner time. I headed out, got something to eat with a few of the guys from the hostel. Eventually I made my way back to the hostel, turned on my computer and realized that I hadn't done anything on my checklist. That thought made me tired, so I am going to go to sleep and try again tomorrow. It is amazing how easy it is to get nothing done. I didn't even have to try and I was able to accomplish absolutely nothing.

Among Mental Giants

Today I met the dumbest fish in the ocean. This fish is so dumb (how dumb is it?) that it is an endangered species, in great part due to it’s sever lack of instinctual prowess to stay alive. The fish is a Napolean Wrasse and they are really cool looking, super friendly, and huge. They would make great friends. The one that I met today looked like a Lyle, mostly because I could see myself saying, “Don’t ya think so Lyle?” and him answering “yup Sean, hur, hur,” in really hicky, twangy voice.

I spent the day with Lyle and his other friends in the Great Barrier Reef. It is the most amazing place that I have ever seen. There are schools of fish that zip around, manta rays flow by in their smooth calm way, and sea turtles navigate their way through the water. The wildlife, the colors, and the sheer beauty of the place are out of a fairy tale. There is a whole world that is completely separate from the overland one that I am accustomed to, and it is simply staggering in it’s diversity and beauty.

I was planning on scuba diving the reef, but I ended up going a bit sooner than expected. As I was hanging out at my hostel last night a group of folks who were staying here came up asking if I was going to the reef. I said I was, and then they asked if I wanted to join their group, so I did. In total there was about nine of us. The group was a great bunch, and a lot of fun. Jack came with us. Jack is from England, and he likes to drink. I think it is starting to affect his brain, however. I met Jack five separate times today. Each time we met he would ask me where I was from, shake my hand, then say, “oh, shit mate, we’ve already met. I knew you looked familiar.” At first I thought he was joking, but then each time the same thing happened. It wasn’t until the third introduction t

hat I found what I think might be the culprit of his lack of a short term memory. Jack apparently was very drunk the night before and had not fully sobered up. I didn’t mind a bit about introducing myself, it was like Groundhog’s Day. Between Jack and Lyle I realized that I was not in the presence of mental giants, but it was good company nevertheless.

As I walked back to the hostel I kept thinking about the difference between Australia and India. One of the guys that was in the group from the hostel was in India not to long ago and we talked for awhile about how incredible it is and how there is no place like it. In India honking your horn is something you do all the time while driving. Tyler told me a great story that perfectly encapsulates the horn honking phenomenon. Tyler had hired a cab at the wee hours of the morning to take him to the airport. The roads were completely empty and out of the blue the driver taps the horn. After a few more minutes the driver gives the horn a few more taps. Tyler looked at him and asked, “Are you serious, man, there’s no one out here.” The driver looked at him and said, “I know, it is what I do.” I think they just like the sound it makes. They don’t honk they’re horns here in Oz. I don’t mind, but I must say that the silence can be deafening seeing as I was finally getting used to it. It is just funny how a 7 hour plane flight can transport you to another world, and a hop in the ocean can transport you to yet another completely different universe. We live in an incredible world.

The Road to Oz

Walking around Cairns I missed New Delhi a little. The hustle and bustle as well as the endless amount of things to see really started to grow on me in India. Cairns is the definition of a sleepy beach town. School hasn't quite started yet so the town is abundant with shaggy haired, tight pant clad skateboarders and teenagers. India is a place that I am so glad to have visited, happy to have left, and will never forget. It seems a world away from this place, and it is.

I was a little sad to leave the airport in Singapore. I still can't get over how much stuff they had to do there. Did I mention that they had a rianforest nature walk in the terminal? You can't make this stuff up peopele. I didn't take any pictures, though. My flight to Australia was tiresome. I sat next to a family traveling with a little baby who was testing the audible limits of human hearing. The kid had some pipes, I see a rich future in a career as a fog horn, or perhaps emergency siren. The whole 5 hour flight to Darwin he screamed, cried, bawled, and let out sounds that I did not think were possible for human beings to make. At the end of the flight I was really more impressed than angry, that kid was good at what he did.

As I landed in Australia I still had the wonder of if they would deport me in the back of my mind. I knew they wouldn't, I mean who wouldn't want me in their country? I didn't get deported, but I did get selected for a random search. Yeaaaaay! The customs agent introduced himself to me, escorted me to a stainless steel table and proceeded to go through every single item in my bag. As he went through my belongings with great diligence I thought to myself," I'm coming into the country and off of a plane. Why am I being searched to come into the country?" I asked and he said that Australia is very protective of their natural beauty and they are very strict about not bringing any food, organic things like wood souvenirs from other countries, even dirt on your shoes. I appreciated their effort and after he said that I unclenched a bit, realizing that I would not be the subject of a cavity search. That was a relief, until the agent looked at me and said, "ok, just one more thing..." I clenched up. "If I could just see your passport again." I handed over the passport as I breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. He stamped my little blue passport and I was in Cairns.

Of Blunders and Mishaps

I lied to the Indian government. Not intentionally, mind you, it just happened to work out that way. On my application for my Indian Visa I wrote that the main reason I wanted to visit India was to see the Taj Mahal. I hear that it is really amazing. In fact that is what the bus driver for the tour I booked to see it told me. He told me this, then got in the bus and drove away...without me. It was at my behest, however.

It was going to be perfect. The tour that I booked to see the Taj Mahal was to return to Delhi at 10:30pm and my flight to Singapore left at 12:45, so it would be tight, but it would be perfect. That was until I asked the bus driver what time he thought we would be back. I only asked because the tour was to leave at 6am and it was now 7:30am when I was asking him. He looked at the sun and then looked at me and breathed out, "oh, maybe 1 or 2 in the morning." I immediately went into problem solving mode because the ship was taking on water, and fast. I pressed him to find out if there was any possible way to be back at 10:30 and he laughed a great big, evil Disney character belly laugh and said that was not possible.

I got off the bus and walked into the tour agency to speak to the guy in charge to weigh my options. I knew there was no way I would get my money for the tour back so I started trying to figure out what the options he could give me were. All he gave me was that I could have hired a car and driver for about $200 US, which was way out of my Taj Mahal budget. That was it, or come back tomorrow, which would be even more expensive seeing as I would have to fly from Singapore. I thought about the train, but in India if you are a foreigner you have purchase your train ticket 5 hours in advance before boarding and you can not purchase a return ticket, which means that once in Agra, where the Taj Mahal is, I would have to buy a return ticket that was 5 hours out, which would get me back at 1am if the train doesn't break or get lost, which are likely possibilities. After three hours of optimism and problem solving I accepted defeat. The tourism Gods were not with me.

Instead of the Taj I ended up getting a cab to the Humayun Tomb, which is older, less impressive, and not half as iconic as the Taj. It was a shitty consolation prize, but I took it. I ended up just heading to the airport early after I just got tired of lugging all of my stuff around Delhi in the 100 degree heat and humidity. I figured I could putter around on the Internet at the airport for awhile since I would be there about 6 hours before my flight left, but at least I would be in air-conditioning. That's what I thought, at least, but I should have taken the cue from the days events that things don't always go to plan. As I got to the airport and headed in the guard looked at my ticket and said, "no, you can't come in until 2 hours before your flight." I pleaded for a moment, but the guy had a machine gun, no sense of humor, and a big bushy mustache. He was all business. I wandered for a few moments, thinking of what to do. Eventually I did like many of the other people were doing and I found a nice comfortable piece of concrete on the sidewalk, curled up and slept off my frustration. For being hot, humid, and surrounded by smelly people I actually got a couple solid hours of a nap in on the concrete. It was surely welcome as well, seeing as the frustration from the day really took it out of me.

When it was time for me to be granted permission to enter the premises it felt good to back to familiar territory with check in counters and air-conditioning. There I went again, though, thinking that things would be smooth. As I checked in, the ticket counter guy asked me for my Australia visa. I told him that I was going to buy it at the airport, which is what the Australian website told me before I left, albeit a couple months ago. I was wrong, Australia changed the rule last month and I could not board my flight until I had a valid Australia visa because I would be deported if I landed without a visa. That would have been a perfect ending, being deported. I ended up being shuffled around from person to person until finally I talked to someone wearing a sport coat and a nice tie. I convinced him to let me use his computer and so that I could apply for my Australia visa, which takes 24 hours to be approved. Then I talked him into only book me on my flight to Singapore and not all the way through to Australia, since I had a 13 hour layover in Singapore and I do not need a visa to travel there. With the 13 hour layover in Singapore I was sure that my visa would have been pushed through by then, at least that's what I hoped. He reluctantly obliged, although I think it was mostly just to pass me off so that I would be Singapore's problem.

After all that I am in Singapore and my visa was accepted so I will shortly be boarding my flight to Australia. This is a very poorly written entry because I am tired, hungry, I have to pee, and the story is still pretty fresh, so it stings a little to relive it. It was an experience, though.

I have made the best of my layover while here in Singapore. This is the best airport in the world. It has mini golf, a pool, showers, a fitness club, a bounce house, and they have free city tours if you have a layover longer than 6 hours. At every counter they have candies. It's like Disneyland! I didn't really feel like doing the city tour because there is a resort type island that I have wanted to see here in Singapore which the tour didn't go to, so I made my way around the city. Singapore feels like a city that they just popped the freshness seal off of. Their economy is one of the fastest growing economies in the world and much of their infrastructure, like roads, the metro, buildings, are all brand new. Add that to the fact that they are very near the equator so they have an unbelievably tropical climate making the city covered in lush greenery and vital wildlife and you have an impressive place. It is a beautiful place. It was a welcome respite from the past 36 hours. I still can't wait to get to Australia and lay on the beach, though. I guess I shouldn't get my hopes up too much, though, I am not in the country yet so I still have the chance of being deported. That would be the cherry on top of this layer cake of blunders and mishaps.

The Monsoon

So it rained today. I didn't think much of it because I was inside most of the day. After my visit to the coiffeur I strolled around for a bit. I then realized that I hadn't eaten anything and it was 2 in the afternoon. I hopped into the nearest eatery and grabbed a bite. As I was gnawing on lunch I looked outside and noticed that it was raining. The rain began as a trickle, then, as if the dam broke from the leak it had sprung, the heavens opened and visibility went to nil. I saw people running for cover so I decided that it was a good idea to grab a post lunch tea and some dessert. The rain only lasted for about 15 minutes or so and once it let up I made my way outside. As I stepped out of the restaurant I felt as if I was transported to another world. Cars were wheel-well high in water, people were gathering their things as they floated down the street, I was just waiting for Noah to float by in his ark.

I guess these monsoons they have here are serious business. I chatted with the hotel manager after wading my way back and he said that this has been a really dry season. He was telling me that they usually have rain like that, but it usually doesn't stop for weeks. Once again, I'm glad I live in Los Angeles, where rain is worth interrupting Days of Our Lives as "breaking news." The part that I understand the least is why the city is designed so poorly to accommodate the monsoons. This was a quick rain in a dry season and the section of the city I was in came to a stand-still. If that lasted weeks Delhi would float away. They know it's coming, so why not prepare? I am only an arm chair critic, though, so I do not have room to criticize. It was pretty crazy, though. I had to smile, though, because last time I was in rain that hard I was bailing water out of a doorway. I decided that I am in retirement for now when it comes to bailing water, and I don't see a comeback anytime soon.

By the way, India has the coolest coins ever, I put a picture of the backs of the 1 and 2 Rupee coins. How awesome is it to have a thumbs up on your countries currency? I laughed so hard when I saw that. Its just great.

Shave and a Haircut

I have been looking pretty shabby lately and feeling quite fuzzy. Luckily New Delhi is a hotbed for personal grooming services. You can get your shoes shined, grab a haircut, body massage, you name it. You can usually find all of those things within yards of each other or sometimes in the same shop. I walked into a shop that cut hair, did massages, nails, sold clothes, and booked travel tours. It was a rather ambitious business model, I thought, but it seemed to be working.

I walked out of my hotel and surveyed the local barber shops. There are impromptu hair cutters that set a chair up on the sidewalk, much like a shoe shiner. I wanted to splurge a little so I opted for a barber with a roof and a more permanent mirror. I can be spoiled some times. I found a quaint little barber that had the two letters I really wanted to see on the sign: A/C. It is a hundred degrees and 100% humidity and the monsoon decided to pay a visit so it is raining like crazy to boot, so an indoor, air-conditioned shop was well worth the extra 50 rupees (about $1 US).

I walked in and to no great surprise saw the normal goings on of any good barber shop, a whole lot of newspaper reading, loud talking, and little work being done. As the bell on the door rang and I stepped through the threshold the shop went silent and all eyes turned to me. There was an older guy sitting in the barbers chair who set his glasses down his nose and peered over the lenses at me. "Hello my friend. Oh God, you need a haircut and this," he smiled as he rubbed his chin, implying I had let too much of my primate roots catch up with me. I smiled and took the chair he offered me.

He wrapped me up and went to work. It sounded like Edward Scissorhands as he jetted around my head and clumps of hair fell off. He could have been cutting me bald or writing his name in my scalp, but I was mesmerized by how the guy would eye up the cut, make a little "eh" grunt, then snip, all within a second. Within a few minutes I went from shabby backpacker to modestly well-kept backpacker. I still needed to get shaved, which I was nervous about for some reason. I had never had someone shave my face before and for some strange reason I kept having these visions of the guy slipping and blood shooting out of my neck like that "Scanners" movie. Except their heads just exploded, but you get the point.

As the guy laid me back and lathered me up I had the uncanny urge to talk in my best mafia voice and say, "Pauly, did you take care of the thing?" The guy stopped and asked, "huh?" I knew it would only be funny to me so I just said, "oh, nothing." It was an inters ting experience getting shaved. I felt like a sheep being sheered, but my face has never been smoother. When I looked in the mirror after he finished I just laughed. I looked completely different without a weeks facial hair or my Puerto-fro. It is a welcome change, though. It was well worth the experience. All in all, the shave, haircut, and uncomfortable face massage (uncomfortable because of how nice it felt, that old man has magic in his fingertips) only cost 100 rupees, and I tipped the guy another 50, so about $3 US. Its almost worth the flight over here just to get a haircut and buy some clothes. Ah, India...