After my husband (HB) returned from a successful trip to Antarctica, sans yours truly, we decided that we should make the long-dreamt trip to Australia. He wanted to take his backpack to Australia, to have the bragging rights that his “back pack” has been to all the seven continents. I wanted to go with or without a back pack. I wanted to meet Crocodile Dundee.
The opportunity to go "down under" was inevitable. Our son left for college; we did not think he is keen on seeing kangaroos and koalas. We decided to make this trip our first major vacation since we took him to college in the Midwest.
In February of this year, we boarded a Qantas flight to Melbourne. We were met at the airport by my childhood friend and classmate Cha-cha. With her was her Aussie husband, Estevan. This seemingly simple get together was planned two years before. Cha and Estevan decided to drive us all the way to Adelaide through Warnambool from where we could catch a flight to Kangaroo Island. This was designed for us two to catch up on each other's going-ons.
As soon as the plane landed, and at the realization that I was on a continent, floating by itself from the others, I felt a deep longing to hear my son’s voice. Then I realized he does not even call me when I am at home so I whipped out my Blackberry and sent him an e-mail. “Son, your Dad and I just landed in Melbourne. We are now half the world away from you. If anything happens to me and him, you will be a wealthy young man. I am now giving you a chance to say thank you.” He responded, surprisingly, quite promptly at that too. “Mom, Thanks for everything. Much love, KS” I told my husband about it. He said, “He just told you, ‘Nice knowing you, Mom!’” My son’s sense of humor mirrors mine and we appreciate his wit and sarcasm.
The next day was a gloomy day; the "Aussies" picked us up to start the first leg of our road trip to Warnambool. My husband can pack a ship in a car. This is a talent that I do not have. When Estevan opened the trunk, I could not help but laugh inwardly, knowing fully well that I would have packed in the same way he did. We had our two suitcases, their two suitcases, a cooler, water bottles, backpacks, a picnic basket, extra tote bags, etc. But HB took over and helped to re-arrange the trunk and we were on our way.
Estevan is the quintessential Aussie. He is laid back and has a childlike sense about him. He would point out something with a twinkle in his eyes. He is dressed up like he is on perpetual vacation to a beach or a ball field. HB is your quintessential tourist with layers of sunscreen and an IPod with a thousand songs, at least, downloaded in it. Aussies drive on the left side of the road. I was always grateful that the “near-misses” always, "missed." Cha and I did not shut up one minute. We were very close friends since we were in grade school. I remember her wearing shorts and no socks in elementary school; I remember us working on our school paper’s articles in high school. We were in the same classes and had mutual friends. She was petite, long-haired, caramel color skin, and prone to bursts of laughter. We were part of a clique of five; we spoke English to impress ourselves and others, mostly to impress ourselves. The boys had a crush on her. I am still smarting from the fact that none of the boys in my class had a crush on me. Cha and I wrote of our longing to free our country of foreign imperialism, of poverty, of injustice, inequality, and corruption. We talked about the problem of brain drain in Manila. We were both radical and idealistic; socialist and capitalistic; we came of age in a paradoxical decade.
We parted in college but since our high-school friends found each other in the mid 2000’s, we have renewed our friendships and she and I were now in the back of the car, giggling, and rehashing what happened in the last 30 years or so. I loved hearing my friend speak with an Aussie twang. She would say “yeh,” and something that sounds like “hai?” where I would say “uhuh” and “pardon?” Her intonation was music to my ears- I loved hearing her stories of how she and her husband met; how her sisters are doing; her political activism in college, her first job, the boys who became men, confessing their crush on her when we were in high school. It was hilarious to hear of balding man profess infatuation with someone when he was 15 years old! In her stories, I saw the “movies” of our childhood in my mind once again. I am sure I talked as much as she did because HB made a comment that my voice was hoarse later.
We drove through the Great Ocean Road, a winding road that presented a picturesque view of the ocean. At some point, I turned to Cha, and asked, “How long is our drive going to be on this winding road?” She laughed. She responded, “I was just waiting for you to ask that. It is another hour. Every visitor we take by this route gets bored.” “I am not getting bored but I think I am ready to throw up.” So we stopped, mercifully, and walked towards the beach. Gratefully, I did not get sick but we needed the break.
We detoured and drove on a straight highway. The landscape of Australia is beautiful. We stopped somewhere to have breakfast. This “somewhere” has a Hollywood set feel about it. It was a short quaint strip of shops, coffee shops, fruit stand, a tiny pharmacy. When you go in, the shopkeepers do actually talk to you and sincerely wanted to know how you are doing. The pharmacist discussed your symptoms with you. In a day trip later to Leura, the lady in the purse (oh yeah) and shoe store commiserated with us about the high price of leather. The only problem is that I could not easily understand the way the Aussies talk.
I was told it is English they were speaking but they sound like they have combined the accents of Boston and crossbreed it with South Carolina, and I have to turn to my friend or my husband to ask what was being said. In fact, every time Estevan says something, I would turn to his wife and ask, “What did he say?” She said, “No worries, when I first met him, I would just giggle every time he spoke. I did not understand him either!” Now, HB is from Boston so he adapted right away. He started deleting the “r” in “Melbourne” and so he joined the whole continent in saying what sounded as “Melben.” Since that was not a natural tendency for me, I always stood out as the tacky tourist, who would say “MelbouRne” and “CaiRns” where they would say “Cans” whatever! So, is it kangawoo or kangaroo?
We stopped at some beautiful place, under some beautiful sunny skies and our hosts announced that we are now going to experience an Australian “barbie.” We carried the picnic basket and the coolers. Estevan and HB proceeded to go to the grill, cleaned it, turned it on, grilled the steaks. We on the other hand encroached on some family’s picnic table, claimed the other end, put on the tablecloth and our implements. I noticed that the family on the other side was eating this huge lobster with lots of meat on its head. I was told that Aussies call those things bugs; a cross between a crayfish on steroids and a lobster. Also, if the USA has the Big Apple, our hosts told us Australia has the Big Banana, the Big Crab. But if Big Apple is a whole city, their biggies are actual inanimate work of some-dundee-eccentric- artist bananas and crab. To wit, I took a photo of the BIG CRAB, looming over what looked like a 1950's ice cream joint. I took the photo while we drove by it.
The opportunity to go "down under" was inevitable. Our son left for college; we did not think he is keen on seeing kangaroos and koalas. We decided to make this trip our first major vacation since we took him to college in the Midwest.
In February of this year, we boarded a Qantas flight to Melbourne. We were met at the airport by my childhood friend and classmate Cha-cha. With her was her Aussie husband, Estevan. This seemingly simple get together was planned two years before. Cha and Estevan decided to drive us all the way to Adelaide through Warnambool from where we could catch a flight to Kangaroo Island. This was designed for us two to catch up on each other's going-ons.
As soon as the plane landed, and at the realization that I was on a continent, floating by itself from the others, I felt a deep longing to hear my son’s voice. Then I realized he does not even call me when I am at home so I whipped out my Blackberry and sent him an e-mail. “Son, your Dad and I just landed in Melbourne. We are now half the world away from you. If anything happens to me and him, you will be a wealthy young man. I am now giving you a chance to say thank you.” He responded, surprisingly, quite promptly at that too. “Mom, Thanks for everything. Much love, KS” I told my husband about it. He said, “He just told you, ‘Nice knowing you, Mom!’” My son’s sense of humor mirrors mine and we appreciate his wit and sarcasm.
The next day was a gloomy day; the "Aussies" picked us up to start the first leg of our road trip to Warnambool. My husband can pack a ship in a car. This is a talent that I do not have. When Estevan opened the trunk, I could not help but laugh inwardly, knowing fully well that I would have packed in the same way he did. We had our two suitcases, their two suitcases, a cooler, water bottles, backpacks, a picnic basket, extra tote bags, etc. But HB took over and helped to re-arrange the trunk and we were on our way.
Estevan is the quintessential Aussie. He is laid back and has a childlike sense about him. He would point out something with a twinkle in his eyes. He is dressed up like he is on perpetual vacation to a beach or a ball field. HB is your quintessential tourist with layers of sunscreen and an IPod with a thousand songs, at least, downloaded in it. Aussies drive on the left side of the road. I was always grateful that the “near-misses” always, "missed." Cha and I did not shut up one minute. We were very close friends since we were in grade school. I remember her wearing shorts and no socks in elementary school; I remember us working on our school paper’s articles in high school. We were in the same classes and had mutual friends. She was petite, long-haired, caramel color skin, and prone to bursts of laughter. We were part of a clique of five; we spoke English to impress ourselves and others, mostly to impress ourselves. The boys had a crush on her. I am still smarting from the fact that none of the boys in my class had a crush on me. Cha and I wrote of our longing to free our country of foreign imperialism, of poverty, of injustice, inequality, and corruption. We talked about the problem of brain drain in Manila. We were both radical and idealistic; socialist and capitalistic; we came of age in a paradoxical decade.
We parted in college but since our high-school friends found each other in the mid 2000’s, we have renewed our friendships and she and I were now in the back of the car, giggling, and rehashing what happened in the last 30 years or so. I loved hearing my friend speak with an Aussie twang. She would say “yeh,” and something that sounds like “hai?” where I would say “uhuh” and “pardon?” Her intonation was music to my ears- I loved hearing her stories of how she and her husband met; how her sisters are doing; her political activism in college, her first job, the boys who became men, confessing their crush on her when we were in high school. It was hilarious to hear of balding man profess infatuation with someone when he was 15 years old! In her stories, I saw the “movies” of our childhood in my mind once again. I am sure I talked as much as she did because HB made a comment that my voice was hoarse later.
We drove through the Great Ocean Road, a winding road that presented a picturesque view of the ocean. At some point, I turned to Cha, and asked, “How long is our drive going to be on this winding road?” She laughed. She responded, “I was just waiting for you to ask that. It is another hour. Every visitor we take by this route gets bored.” “I am not getting bored but I think I am ready to throw up.” So we stopped, mercifully, and walked towards the beach. Gratefully, I did not get sick but we needed the break.
We detoured and drove on a straight highway. The landscape of Australia is beautiful. We stopped somewhere to have breakfast. This “somewhere” has a Hollywood set feel about it. It was a short quaint strip of shops, coffee shops, fruit stand, a tiny pharmacy. When you go in, the shopkeepers do actually talk to you and sincerely wanted to know how you are doing. The pharmacist discussed your symptoms with you. In a day trip later to Leura, the lady in the purse (oh yeah) and shoe store commiserated with us about the high price of leather. The only problem is that I could not easily understand the way the Aussies talk.
I was told it is English they were speaking but they sound like they have combined the accents of Boston and crossbreed it with South Carolina, and I have to turn to my friend or my husband to ask what was being said. In fact, every time Estevan says something, I would turn to his wife and ask, “What did he say?” She said, “No worries, when I first met him, I would just giggle every time he spoke. I did not understand him either!” Now, HB is from Boston so he adapted right away. He started deleting the “r” in “Melbourne” and so he joined the whole continent in saying what sounded as “Melben.” Since that was not a natural tendency for me, I always stood out as the tacky tourist, who would say “MelbouRne” and “CaiRns” where they would say “Cans” whatever! So, is it kangawoo or kangaroo?
We stopped at some beautiful place, under some beautiful sunny skies and our hosts announced that we are now going to experience an Australian “barbie.” We carried the picnic basket and the coolers. Estevan and HB proceeded to go to the grill, cleaned it, turned it on, grilled the steaks. We on the other hand encroached on some family’s picnic table, claimed the other end, put on the tablecloth and our implements. I noticed that the family on the other side was eating this huge lobster with lots of meat on its head. I was told that Aussies call those things bugs; a cross between a crayfish on steroids and a lobster. Also, if the USA has the Big Apple, our hosts told us Australia has the Big Banana, the Big Crab. But if Big Apple is a whole city, their biggies are actual inanimate work of some-dundee-eccentric- artist bananas and crab. To wit, I took a photo of the BIG CRAB, looming over what looked like a 1950's ice cream joint. I took the photo while we drove by it.
Within a half an hour, we were eating steaks, drinking cold soda, remarking about the glorious sunlight we were gifted with.
We stopped to admire the Twelve Apostles, awesome rock formations coming out of the great ocean. These formations are so spectacular and so vulnerable that seeing them stirs a feeling of wanting to preserve it for the future generation. We also saw what they refer to as the London Bridge rock formation.
We reached Warnambool in the afternoon. Our friends booked us a lovely contemporary apartelle. It is furnished like an HGTV model townhouse. We went out to dinner with our hosts and their daughter and her friend. Now let me tell you about Aussie food. The appetizer is called entrée and the main course is, well, the main course. And it is good food. And it is expensive food. And there is always Australian wine to drink. Australia=Shangri La. Cheers.
We started our drive early the next day towards Adelaide.
In an hour or so, there was nothing else but brown parched land or seas that seemed to have brown water; desert, brown earth. I am not sure if we had enough gas to drive all the way to Adelaide but no one seemed to worry. It reminded me of our drive from the Serengeti to Ngoro-ngoro in Africa years before. There was nothing but the Sahara desert and now as I looked outside, it seemed there was no end to the brown earth and the skies. The sun was high, the light was bright. I was hoping to spot a kangaroo like Nicole Kidman did in that movie, but I was not that lucky.
We reached Warnambool in the afternoon. Our friends booked us a lovely contemporary apartelle. It is furnished like an HGTV model townhouse. We went out to dinner with our hosts and their daughter and her friend. Now let me tell you about Aussie food. The appetizer is called entrée and the main course is, well, the main course. And it is good food. And it is expensive food. And there is always Australian wine to drink. Australia=Shangri La. Cheers.
We started our drive early the next day towards Adelaide.
In an hour or so, there was nothing else but brown parched land or seas that seemed to have brown water; desert, brown earth. I am not sure if we had enough gas to drive all the way to Adelaide but no one seemed to worry. It reminded me of our drive from the Serengeti to Ngoro-ngoro in Africa years before. There was nothing but the Sahara desert and now as I looked outside, it seemed there was no end to the brown earth and the skies. The sun was high, the light was bright. I was hoping to spot a kangaroo like Nicole Kidman did in that movie, but I was not that lucky.
If someone told that the earth was flat that day, I would have agreed without debate. As the landscape looked arid and endless, our conversation quieted down. Then, Estevan stopped the car and asked HB if he wanted to drive. HB did want to drive. It was a good technical rehearsal for him. No turns, no stops, all the way down under. Cha told me that she always flew into Adelaide as there was really nothing worth seeing along the way should one opt to drive. I agreed.
Adelaide is like a mirage; a green place in the middle of the desert; an oasis, a paradise. It is busy but not hectic. It was even contemporary. We went out to dinner in one of the pubs. After dinner, we had another cup of “flat white” (coffee with a frothy creamy top) and said our "goodbye’s and see you soon’s." Early the next day, we caught our flight to Kangaroo Island and thus our official outback experience started.
We did the Australian tour essentials namely Kangaroo Island game drives, staying at the Straener Homestead. We saw kangaroos, koalas, seals, wallabies; we had elegant lunches in the game park with linen table cloths and stainless flatware, always with good Australian wine. We went to Cairns and stayed at the Palm Cove resort; we went by catamaran on a day tour of the Great Barrier Reef to snorkel, dive, and take a helicopter ride to admire the corals. We had dinner at a Greek Taverna where the owner played backgammon with my husband and where he told us of his years living in Naples, Florida. It is a friendly town, with friendly people except for the lady who was at our hotel's front desk! She was the type of a service provider that if you say "Good morning.," she would respond to you without looking up from whatever she was looking at on her PC monitor. She was like an old wooden chair. She was functional but not user friendly.
Adelaide is like a mirage; a green place in the middle of the desert; an oasis, a paradise. It is busy but not hectic. It was even contemporary. We went out to dinner in one of the pubs. After dinner, we had another cup of “flat white” (coffee with a frothy creamy top) and said our "goodbye’s and see you soon’s." Early the next day, we caught our flight to Kangaroo Island and thus our official outback experience started.
We did the Australian tour essentials namely Kangaroo Island game drives, staying at the Straener Homestead. We saw kangaroos, koalas, seals, wallabies; we had elegant lunches in the game park with linen table cloths and stainless flatware, always with good Australian wine. We went to Cairns and stayed at the Palm Cove resort; we went by catamaran on a day tour of the Great Barrier Reef to snorkel, dive, and take a helicopter ride to admire the corals. We had dinner at a Greek Taverna where the owner played backgammon with my husband and where he told us of his years living in Naples, Florida. It is a friendly town, with friendly people except for the lady who was at our hotel's front desk! She was the type of a service provider that if you say "Good morning.," she would respond to you without looking up from whatever she was looking at on her PC monitor. She was like an old wooden chair. She was functional but not user friendly.
We proceeded to the Ayer’s Rock where we stayed at the Lost Camel Resort. Ayer's Rock grew on me. It becomes more beautiful as the day progressed. The way sunlight hits it is like lighting a stage. It was magnificent, it was huge, it was awesome. We toured the Rock, wore our veils to prevent the flies from entering our nostrils, dined under the constellations during a memorable Sounds of Silence dinner; saw the Olgas and then flew to Sydney for the last leg of our tour.
Sydney is a beautiful city; it is busy, contemporary, fashion-forward and very diverse. We took the bus to Bondi Beach, had a nice lunch at Ravesis, a popular upscale wine bar; shopped for, but not successful, for a kangaroo leather purse. We took the river cruise to admire the Opera House from a distance and contemplated but did not climb the Harbor Bridge for a very practical reason. It was not the height. It was the price. I would be a fool to pay $175 to climb a bridge and not get anything when I get to the top. I do not get to ski down; I do not get to jump or bungee jump from it. Not what I want to do any of those! However, I would have considered it for say, a free pair of Ugg boots.
My husband is brave. He drove us on the left side of the road to the Blue Mountains through alternating weather conditions. My job was to remind him whenever he was about to take a turn that he must drive on the left side, that he should stay on the left side, that there's no other way but the "wrong way." He would reprimand me when I would forget and I would get annoyed that he needed to be reminded. I told him that a GPS for tourist should be made for tourists in Australia. I can just imagine what the "lady" would say: "Stay on the left. This is not a joke. Idiot, did you hear what I said? Aaaagh, I am recalculating but you might be already dead!" I felt like he was driving on the shoulder of the road and many times, the windshield wipers would start when he meant to turn on the signal. We had a wonderful time, catching breathtaking vistas of the mountains. Australia is just beautiful, no ifs and but's.
In high-school, we had a schoolmate. She was one of the prettiest girls; skin fair as ceam, soft spoken voice, bushy eyebrows, gentle black eyes. She was smart and articulate. In other words, she was that sort of girl everyone hates because she’s beautiful. She emigrated to Sydney many decades ago. This particular day, she and her husband were hosting us and were taking us to the vineyards of Hunter Valley. And I could not wait to spend the day with her and meet her lucky husband.
It is amazing how maturity can mellow rivalry. As it turned out, my friend Emma is as every inch a lady as she was in high-school. She speaks softly but with conviction. She has that sweet Aussie intonation elongating the last part of each sentence. It was lovable! She is poised, she is kind, and she is pretty. As with Cha, we talked about our youth, our life stories, and our present circumstances. Emma and her husband Jon just recently became grandparents to a baby girl. We talked about our careers, our own particular struggles growing up; dealing with sickness and death in our families; finding our own niche in the world of adults during and after college.
Emma is a nurturer; she is mother earth. She made sure no one was hungry or thirsty during our trip to the vineyards. She was so awesome that I wasted all those years not finding her and making friends with her. I regret that she and I were not close friends in high-school, I regret the competition we had amongst us but I am grateful for the opportunity to make amends.
In high-school, we had a schoolmate. She was one of the prettiest girls; skin fair as ceam, soft spoken voice, bushy eyebrows, gentle black eyes. She was smart and articulate. In other words, she was that sort of girl everyone hates because she’s beautiful. She emigrated to Sydney many decades ago. This particular day, she and her husband were hosting us and were taking us to the vineyards of Hunter Valley. And I could not wait to spend the day with her and meet her lucky husband.
It is amazing how maturity can mellow rivalry. As it turned out, my friend Emma is as every inch a lady as she was in high-school. She speaks softly but with conviction. She has that sweet Aussie intonation elongating the last part of each sentence. It was lovable! She is poised, she is kind, and she is pretty. As with Cha, we talked about our youth, our life stories, and our present circumstances. Emma and her husband Jon just recently became grandparents to a baby girl. We talked about our careers, our own particular struggles growing up; dealing with sickness and death in our families; finding our own niche in the world of adults during and after college.
Emma is a nurturer; she is mother earth. She made sure no one was hungry or thirsty during our trip to the vineyards. She was so awesome that I wasted all those years not finding her and making friends with her. I regret that she and I were not close friends in high-school, I regret the competition we had amongst us but I am grateful for the opportunity to make amends.
Alas, I realized that she may be the bigger person between us two because she sought me and Cha and our other friends out. She is the more courageous one. She is the more admirable one. I would have been happy not knowing what happened to that pretty girl that was once my rival. But she came back into our lives and I embrace her with open arms. She gifted me with her friendship. Her husband is an added bonus and she deserves someone who so loves her; they met and wed when she was just all of nineteen!
Australia is a beautiful continent; I am grateful for the chance to step on its soil; breathe its air; and engulf myself with its natural beauty. It is more beautiful because over there are two beautiful women I deeply care about and whose friendships I cherish. They were gracious to share their beautiful adopted land and generous to share their time with me and my husband. I accept with humility, their gift of lifelong friendships, their pride of being women, Asian women, transplanted succesful Asian women! I am honored to be in their universe.
Australia is a beautiful continent; I am grateful for the chance to step on its soil; breathe its air; and engulf myself with its natural beauty. It is more beautiful because over there are two beautiful women I deeply care about and whose friendships I cherish. They were gracious to share their beautiful adopted land and generous to share their time with me and my husband. I accept with humility, their gift of lifelong friendships, their pride of being women, Asian women, transplanted succesful Asian women! I am honored to be in their universe.
We departed Sydney on a bright, sunny afternoon. We left the bougainvillas, plumerias, cacti, eucalyptus trees, and the koalas behind. I did not buy a boomerang. Instead, I took with me a tiny piece of gravel off of Australia's Ayer's Rock grounds. It now sits next to a piece of stone I picked up from Machu Piccu in Peru. I took a piece of the Australian continent with me.
Finally, kangaroo tasted like a cross between venison and beef; crocodile tastes like chicken. Chicken from the Australian sea. Jessica Simpson would have been pleased to get this one right.
Cheers, mate!
Finally, kangaroo tasted like a cross between venison and beef; crocodile tastes like chicken. Chicken from the Australian sea. Jessica Simpson would have been pleased to get this one right.
Cheers, mate!
