No Worries!

Buoyed by the energy of a wide-open country reminiscent of the days of the “American West.”  Struck by a study in contrasts between a 40,000 year-old culture and modern day technology.  Up close and personal with flora and fauna unique in longevity and location.  Enjoying the differences in vocabulary and perspective “Down Under.”  Gaining a healthy respect for diversity – of environment, of people, of experiences.

These were some of the insights we encountered during our three-and-a-half week sojourn in Australia.  We traveled primarily to meet Michael and Hagar.  They had been touring the world since September 2001, and six months was too long not to exchange hugs and in-person reminiscences.

Because of a prior volunteer commitment on my (Eleanor’s) part, we couldn’t leave before March 14, 2002.  That meant we would have to meet up with the kids in Darwin, Northern Territory.  Weren’t looking forward to that very much, after having read the following description of the area by Bill Bryson in his vastly entertaining travelogue, “In a Sunburned Country”:

[Following a mention of the box jellyfish on the beach at Cairns]

"So you're telling me," said Allan, for whom all this was new, "that if I waded into the water now I would die? "

"In the most wretched and abject agony known to man,” I replied.

"And don't pick up any of the seashells," I added, stopping him from leaning over to pick up a seashell. I explained to him about cone shells, the venomous creatures that lurk inside some of the handsomest shells, waiting for a human hand to sink their vile pincers into.

"Seashells will kill you?" he said. "They've got lethal seashells here?"

"There are more things that will kill you up here than anywhere in Australia, and that's saying a lot, believe me."

I told him about the cassowary, the flightless, man-sized bird that lives in the rain forests, with a razor claw on each foot with which it can slice you open in a deft and appallingly expansive manner; and the green tree snakes that dangle from branches and so blend into the foliage that you don't see them until they are clamped onto a facial extremity. I mentioned also the small but fearsomely poisonous blue-ringed octopus, whose caress is instant death; and the elegant but irritable numb ray, which moves through the water like a flying carpet discharging 220 volts of electricity into anything that troubles its progress; and the loathsome, sluggish stonefish, so called because it is indistinguishable from a rock, but with the difference that it has twelve spikes on its back that are sharp enough to pierce the sole of a sneaker, injecting the hapless sufferer with a myotoxin bearing a molecular weight of 150,000.

"And what does that mean exactly ? "

"Pain beyond description followed shortly by muscular paralysis, respiratory depression, cardiac palpitations, and a severe disinclination to boogie. You might similarly be discommoded by fire-fish, which are easier to spot but no less hurtful. There’s even a jellyfish called the snottie."

"You're making this all up," he said, but without conviction.

"Oh, but I’m not!

Then I told him about the dreaded saltwater crocodile, which lurks in tropical lagoon estuaries, and even bays such as this one, leaping from the water from time to time to snatch and devour unsuspecting passersby.

But, parental devotion being what it is, we agreed to visit this dangerous wilderness anyway.  It turned out to be a fascinating introduction to one of the regions less well known to non-Australians (well, even most Aussies have never been there either).  Thus began our journey.   

From the Outback to the Inner City

As it turned out, our trip to Australia was beautifully sequenced.  We began at the beginning – in a territory largely untrammeled, learning about a 40,000-year-old continuous civilization, sensing the overwhelming presence of nature and redefining our own place in it.  And we ended in the country’s most sophisticated, urbane city, with skyscrapers, elegant international boutiques, polyglot cuisine, and museums and monuments which preserve the history and the geography of this amazing continent.

A country as large as the contiguous United States, Australia has outposts of civilization each hundreds (and often thousands) of miles apart.  Of its 20 million inhabitants, Sydney and Melbourne each have nearly 4 million residents, with Brisbane, Perth and Adelaide together accounting for about another 4 million.  That leaves the rest of the Aussies to spread out over 3 million square miles, which is probably why the population density is a startling 7 folks per square mile.

The flight from San Francisco to Sydney on Thursday, March 14 was relatively uneventful.  Because we left at 10:45 at night, it was easy to fall asleep and stay asleep for most of the journey.  Somewhere in the middle of our flight, we lost the Ides of March as we crossed the International Date Line, completing the first leg of our journey on Saturday morning, March 16.  Went from the international terminal to the domestic one, changing to a Qantas flight for Cairns, Queensland.

We had a two-hour layover at the small, isolated airport in Cairns, which turned out to be a serendipitous delay.  We took a stroll to a Mangrove Walk about a mile from the airport, and began our first lesson in the flora and fauna of the Antipodes[1].  Mangroves are remarkable trees – 29 varieties were said to exist in this one area.  They grow best in swampy, clayey soil, and, as a result, have roots which protrude from the ground – some pencil thin and straight, which are the breathers bringing oxygen to the plant; others stocky and curved like a knee, which are the stabilizers holding the tree up in shifting mud. 

Another short flight from Cairns to Darwin, our final destination.  Happily, we were met by Michael and Hagar.  Our hike in the bright daylight of Cairns helped us overcome the worst of our jet lag, and we were able to stay awake long enough for a lovely dinner and discussion with our World Travelers. It had been six months and seven countries since we had seen them!  Darwin isn’t the world’s most exciting outpost, but it was a good jumping off place for our four-day safari to Kakadu National Park, a World Heritage Site, and Litchfield National Park – both at the “Top End” of the Northern Territory.

Isolation and Interconnectedness

After a day to adjust and recover from the three-legged flight, we left early Wednesday morning in a white Toyota Landcruiser with our guide, Andrew.  A charming 30-something bloke, Andrew set the tone of the trip with his cheerful response to all requests, queries, and concerns:  “No worries!”  And, indeed, the biggest worry I ever had in the Top End was getting over a huge boulder without breaking my neck on the way to an idyllic waterfall-pool.  Ha!  So much for Bill Bryson and his alarmist litany of disasters!  

Driving for an infinity along one of the (or perhaps the only) sealed road, we saw scattered trees, dry brush, multicolored sandstone rock.  To me, it seemed quite empty, but that was only a first and very inaccurate impression.  Andrew spotted sky eagles soaring toward the clouds and sad, hungry dingoes skittishly standing along the road.  He took us to an untrammeled water hole, where we saw a trio of absolutely magnificent Jabirus (black-necked storks) in flight.  We took a side trip down the Adelaide River on a “crocodile cruise,” and Andrew stood at the prow of the boat, dangling hunks of kangaroo meat over the side to entice the lumbering reptiles to leap out of the water and grab the not-unexpected treat.

Perhaps most fascinating, however, was the largely unseen but immediately felt presence of the Aboriginal Peoples.  Andrew had a special sensitivity and respect for these people – a race determined to be at least 40,000 years old, and whose habitation on the land was a lesson in the symbiosis between man and nature.  An Aboriginal Person speaks of his locale, his clan, his history, as his “country,” and has maintained an eons-old dedication to guarding and preserving the land.  On a tour to Nourlangie Rock, Andrew showed us one rock painting estimated to be 6,000 years old, another two millennia older than that!

We learned about totems and spirits, “mimis” and animal-gods.  Andrew told us of his pride at being only one of four White people who have been initiated into an Aboriginal clan. He said that, since receiving his “skin name” and his totem (a frilly lizard), he has developed an increased sensitivity to the secrets and cycles of nature.  As if in illustration, one afternoon, we were driving along when Andrew suddenly stopped the 4WD, reversed direction (“chucked a yewie”), reversed again, and began coasting slowly along the road, saying “I sense something.”  All of a sudden, he stopped.  He pointed to a tree at the side of the road and told us to get out of the vehicle.  We did, quietly approaching the tree, and – yes, there on the tree trunk was indeed a frilly lizard, waiting to say hello to his human friend.  Wow!

Throughout our time with Andrew, we learned more and more about the ways in which each element of the ecosystem depends upon the other – the riverbed moss that nurtures the fish, the insect that feeds the snake, the tree that shelters the termite, the ancient people whose tradition of an annual burning keeps the savannah cleared for new growth…

And the beauty! The sandstone escarpment, of waterfalls and natural swimming holes, of ancient rock art and timeless natural sculptures (termite mounds), white egrets and brown flying foxes, large ferns and tiny flowers.  And this is only one environment of the many that define Australia.

Expanse and Diversity

Of the 721 World Heritage Sites – so named by UNESCO for their unique contribution to the cultural history and natural wonder of the world[2] – Australia boasts fourteen.  In three and a half weeks, we visited four:  Kakadu National Park, the Wet Tropics of Queensland (Daintree, Kuranda), the Great Barrier Reef, and the Blue Mountains (outside Sydney).  In addition to the natural wonders of all four, this designation also acknowledges the incredible and unique contribution to human history made by the Aboriginal Peoples.  Thanks to the goal of the World Heritage effort – “to protect natural and cultural properties of outstanding universal value against the threat of damage in a rapidly developing world” – our trip delved into the unique diversity that God and Man can devise.

Michael and Hagar had driven up the center of the continent from Adelaide to Darwin, a trip which took an eternity. Unable to see everything, we concentrated on the eastern side of the country back from Top End to Sydney, where we had started.  We chose Darwin because we wanted to spend as much time as possible with Michael and Hagar before they flew on to Europe (via Singapore, across the Timor Sea from Darwin) to complete their 9-month sojourn around the world.  We chose Cairns because one doesn’t go to Australia and not snorkel at the Great Barrier Reef.  We chose Melbourne because Lloyd’s cousins were there, and it was a wonderful way to celebrate Passover.  And we chose Sydney because it epitomized modern Australia (and because that’s the port into and out of which we were flown by United Airlines).

From the grassy flatlands and wide deserts of Kakadu and the Northern Territory we turned next to the lush rainforests, white beaches, and beautiful ocean of Queensland.  On the advice of a friend, we stayed in Port Douglas, a sleepy hamlet about an hour’s drive north of Cairns.  It was a better spot from which to take tours of the Reef as well as the Daintree Rainforest and Cape Tribulation.

Excursions from Port Douglas included an afternoon visit to its Wildlife Habitat, where we saw the famed cassowary (some call it the national bird), were surrounded by curious wallabies and kangaroos, fed koalas, watched a parrot eating ice cream from a tourist’s cone, and got close enough to a Jabiru to take a picture.  In Cairns, we toured the Tjapukai Cultural Center and learned about Aboriginal relationships to nature and their disastrous encounters with the white man.

From there, we took the Skyrail to the Kuranda Rainforest.  Now we were in a rainforest habitat – palms and ferns and forests with tall canopies sheltering a dazzling array of birds, butterflies, flying foxes, golden orb spiders, lizards and other wildlife listed in the guidebooks but still unseen.  The three-stage Skyrail allowed us to get off at two stops along the way. First, we took a boardwalk trail past some amazing climbing fig tree-vines, which wrap themselves around a host tree, ultimately strangling it and remaining as a triumphant wooden macramé rope reaching the sky.  Then, we hiked a trail overlooking the Barron River Gorge, important in the early days of gold mining, and later used as a resource for hydroelectric power.  We expected a cascading waterfall, but were told that this year, The Wet (summer’s rainy season) had actually been very dry.  This was a source of serious worry to the region, as the fragile ecosystem relies on meters of water each monsoon season, but this year, the area had had only had millimeters of rain.  At the top, we wandered around Kuranda, a touristy village in the heart of the rainforest.  Just as we sat down for a veggie pizza for lunch, the heavens opened up with pelting fury – for all of five minutes.  Perfect timing, we smiled.

NT had been brown and red – straw-colored fields punctuated by greenery along riverbanks, and striated red cliffsides of sandstone, the same rock from which the famous monolith, Uluru (Ayres Rock) emerges in the middle of the continent.  In contrast, Queensland offered green fields of cane sugar, tropical habitats, and the spot where James Cook came ashore after grounding his ship the Endeavor on the Great Barrier Reef.  (Cook named the place “Cape Tribulation,” to describe the desolation the marooned explorer had felt.)

Back at ground level, we got ready for a spectacular day at sea, touring the Agincourt IV section of the Great Barrier Outer Reef.  We stopped at three sites, each more amazing than the last. I could almost touch the sinuous brown eel, the large gray bump-nosed fish, the iridescent turquoise fish dashing by its bright orange-and-yellow striped companion.  Below me waved coral fronds and anemones of blue, lavender, pink, yellow, tan, white and green.  What a majestic Creative Power, which shows  such whimsy and artistry in designing the diversity and grandeur of Life!

Ten days later, we ended our sojourn in Oz with a day trip to the Blue Mountains outside Sydney, where waterfalls, rock outcroppings, tree canopies and gorges would offer one spectacular surprise after another.  It was certainly worth coming half-way 'round the world for such vistas!

 New Experiences and Familiar Faces

Bouncing along unsealed roads periodically interrupted by rivers flowing across them with no bridges to ease the way.  Hiking forever in bright hot sunshine to be rewarded by a hidden waterfall cascading into a refreshing clear water pool.  Finding a fern which has remained unchanged in a habitat untouched since prehistoric times.  Seeing a Moreton Bay Fig tree with a trunk of unbelievable girth and a buttress root system standing its ground against an encroaching civilization.  Watching two Black Eggwing butterflies serenely mating before floating away.  Being overwhelmed by nature, so independent yet accessible.

But the cities were no less impressive.  In Melbourne and in Sydney, the dynamic pace was set by human beings, busily pushing the bounds of civilization ever further into modernity.  Tall skyscrapers of chrome and steel glistening in the sunlight.  Architectural evidence of centuries of British influence.  Harbours accommodating both bustling commerce and serene coves.  Lloyd learning to drive on the left side of the street.  Marvels, all!

In Melbourne, our stay was enriched by a visit to Lloyd’s mother Sonia’s first cousin Ada and her family.  Ada and Romek’s three children and their families all live almost within walking distance of each other.  We observed Passover Seder at daughter Sandra’s house and Shabbat dinner with Ada and Romek and son Irving and his family.  Saturday morning, we accompanied Irving, Goldie, and their son Matthew to synagogue, where Matthew was leading a prayer.  All the men in the family – Romek, Irving, and even Lloyd – were given honors, Irving to lift the Torah, Lloyd to carry it to the Ark, Romek to open the doors as the Torah was returned to its home.  Later, Lloyd accompanied Irving to his “other shul” (as Goldie puts it): the Colonial Stadium for a rousing game of “Footy” (Australian rules football).  Melbourne is a sports’ lover’s heaven, with six arenas almost within walking distance of each other!

We didn’t stop being tourists, however.  Visited the Bunjilaka Aboriginal Center and the Australia Gallery at the Melbourne Museum, and followed “the Golden Mile” around Melbourne’s central business district, concluding with a panoramic view of the city from the top of the Rialto Observation Tower.  We certainly felt like we knew the city, which Lloyd kept comparing to Toronto, Boston, and San Francisco.

Before leaving, we rented a car to tour Phillip Island southeast of Melbourne.  Noted primarily for the Sunset Penguin Parade (something that must have been captivating until they regulated, commercialized, and scheduled the charm out of it), the island nevertheless had many other beautiful vistas to offer: Pyramid Rock, The Nobbies, Point Grant, and the swamp near Rhyll Inlet.  Reminiscent of the coast along Route 1 in California.  We had to keep reminding ourselves that looking out to sea, we were gazing eastward instead of to the west.

And finally, Sydney!  Ensconced in an elegant and comfortable “serviced apartment” overlooking Darling Harbour, with the Monorail literally outside our door, we did the tourist thing with a vengeance. Began the next day with a highly entertaining visit to the Sydney Fish Market, brimming with fresh-off-the-boat catches of fish whose names we had never heard before.  (By this time, however, we had already sampled barramundi fish fillets, crocodile flesh and kangaroo meat, just to say we did. And Lloyd had had his taste of “Victoria Bitter,” the real Australian beer!)

Visited the Maritime Museum and the Aquarium.  Fell in love with five tiny Fairy Penguins, an energetic little platypus, and a panoply of colorful reef fish.  Saw a yellow Banana Peel Eel and walked through an underwater tunnel with a huge manta ray and turtle scuttling lazily overhead.  Took a Harbour Cruise past the Opera House with its (dare we say?) ugly and awkward architecture, Opera Quay and its outdoor cafes, and the Harbour Bridge (on which one can take a climbing tour over the top girders, if one really really wants to).  Saw the Convict Barracks and got an excellent sense of colonial history. (Australia must be the only country where it’s okay if your redoubtable ancestor was a public offender!) Visited Government House, Observatory Hill, and the Royal Botanic Gardens.  History everywhere.

Before leaving Sydney, we drove (that is, Lloyd drove) to the Blue Mountains.  What amazing vistas: Princes Rock and Valley of the Waters at Wentworth Falls, the funky town of Leura where I bought a box of rich Jarrah wood, and Katoomba, where, in addition to the famous Three Sisters, we were dazzled by Echo Point, Allambie Rock, and the Cliff View.  We never seemed to get tired of seeing one magnificent sight after another.  I shot 20 rolls of film trying to capture it all.  (Lloyd says I can’t show all 600 slides because no-one wants to see What We Did On Our Australian Vacation in " real" time.  Hmmph.)

 No Worries, Mate!

Over dinner at an outstanding Maylasian restaurant on our last night in Sydney, we chatted about the highlights and insights of our trip, and tried to catalogue the bests and the worsts.  It was not only a marvelously enjoyable trip, but a meaningful one as well.

Thirty hours after boarding a mid-afternoon flight at Sydney Airport, we arrived at San Francisco International.  Talk about jet lag!  The day before we had left, the clocks were turned back from daylight savings to standard time as Australian Autumn began.  Crossing the International Date Line meant we landed at SFO on the same Sunday four hours before we had left.  And, coming back to Cupertino, we had to set the clocks ahead to daylight savings time to welcome Spring in North America.  And you wonder why it took until that Thursday to really be back in sync with our surroundings.

All in all, it was a marvelous trip. Lloyd returned home with $40 Australian dollars in his pocket.  When I asked him why he hadn’t changed the money back to US currency, he said (as if surprised I would even ask), we would need it when we go back for another visit.

“No worries!”  What a great way to live!

[1] A term often applied by Anglophiles to Australia, New Zealand, and other parts of Oceania. It means “place(s) diametrically opposite (Gr., having the feet opposite, - podos, foot). The term 'Antipodean' is not widely used in the Antipodes, referring as it does to  Australasia as a region on the opposite side of earth to Europe.

 [2] [See The Unesco World Heritage Site and click on "Inscribed Sites" and then “Criteria for Inclusion.”]