On my trip from Sydney to Melbourne, I took the road less traveled – I took a boat!
I signed up as the first (and only) mate of a 46 foot catamaran (dual-hulled ship), the Extreme Ways:
Continue reading Travelogue: Sydney to Melbourne, on the road less traveled
It’s counter-intuitive, the idea of learning to relax, but the stereotype seems to hold true, on how Americans are so work-centric, that they can’t go on vacation without feeling guilty. In contrast, it seems like Australians basically invented the holiday.
Even after being in Australia for a month, I’ve had a hard time really relaxing. On the back of my mind, I keep thinking that I should get back to the US, back to work. I keep thinking that I should be productive, working on my website, studying internet marketing, making some money.
And so, even when I’m in a position where I should be relaxed, I’m constantly active. On beaches, I can’t just sit and relax, but I’ve got to take pictures (I blame my Asian DNA). hike along the beach. do something. Somehow, it’s really hard to just ‘zen out’ and be at peace in the world.
Even though I’ve forced myself to disconnect by not bringing a GSM-compatible smartphone, I’m constantly making notes of interesting things I notice, to write about, reflect on, and possibly profit off of.
But as Jesse commented when I mentioned this to him, I’ve only been here for barely a month, and it really takes a while to transition out of a mindset I’ve spent my entire life in.
I wonder, it’s easy to make fun of the stereotypical American businessman, relaxing on the beach but still tethered to his blackberry, but as a whole, are we all so used to being concerned with work, that we need to take lessons on learning to relax?
If so, is that depressing?
After ten days on the road, I arrived in Sydney!
After being dropped off by my travel companions, I hit up a library, looked up some cheap hostels, and ended up in King’s Cross – the center of nightlife and (unbeknownst to me) the red light district. There, I ended up staying at Sydney’s worst hostel for a couple of nights, before finding a couch surfing host to stay with for a couple of days.
From my travels in Australia, I’ve noticed that there’s an entire industry here that doesn’t exist in the USA – the backpacking industry.
Going around any big centers of activity – tourist hot spots, city centers, nightlife areas – and you see all sorts of businesses absent in America – hostels, backpacker flights centers, backpacker ‘hubs’ offering free (really crappy) wifi while selling you on travel experience packages (and invariably full of people checking facebook).
From Brisbane, I fell in with a Canadian couple who were traveling on a leisurely road trip from Brisbane to Sydney via the Gold Coast.
Meet Jesse (28) & Kristina (20)!
They were traveling in this ancient camper van, at least 20 years old. It used to be rented out by Wicked (one of the many camper van rental companies), but was then sold to a series of travelers before passing into our hands.
Continue reading Travelogue: Gold Coast – Byron Bay, Surfers Paradise, Nimbim, and Port Stevens
On the way down the Gold Coast, I tried out travel camping almost every night – since the campervan was only large enough for two (my new Canadian friends), I slept outside in a tent. It was pretty comfortable though, since it was fall in Australia. And in the week and a half that we traveled together, I had a lot of variance in my camping.
Exhibit A: camping right along the coast, going to sleep while listening to the waves. I think the best part isn’t even falling asleep to the waves, but waking up to both the sound of the waves, and the warmth of the sun shining down on my tent.
Exhibit B: camping right along the side of the main highway, after finding that every campground in the area had closed at 5pm. Seriously, every campsite closed at 5pm – even if they had space, they wouldn’t allow you to check in. Take my money, damn it!
Exhibit C: tent + wind + dubiously placed pegs. My travel companions and I all laughed our asses off, but the boy scout in me was so ashamed.
It’s really cool, how you can have fascinating chance encounters by being friendly and keeping an eye out.
Somewhere along the beaches of the Gold Coast, while hiking along the beaches, I came across a bunch of guys from Sydney, playing a game a beach cricket, and decided to join in. Never having watched or played cricket before, I found it a really fun and fascinating game. At its core, you have a batsman defending a post (a small tube stuck in the sand), and a pitcher throwing a ball at the batsman / post. If the pitcher hits the post, the batsman is out. Otherwise, the batsman gets to keep swinging at the ball until he connects – at which point he has to run to the pitcher and back to the post before somebody either catches the ball, or picks up the ball and pegs the post.
This being the beach, of course the dominant strategy is to hit the ball into the ocean. I’ve no doubt the game is more complicated than I’ve described, but I had fun! And I managed to score quite a few points too!
After a chance encounter in Byron Bay, I’ve got a new nickname: Zen
While camping out at Byron Bay, I arrived back at the campsite one night to see a bonfire off into the distance. Hoping there might be s’mores, I headed over and check it out, and discovered a bunch of 20ish Aussie blokes, who all leapt up and yelled “hey, its Zen!” I rolled with the punches, and thirty seconds later was having a beer with them.
“Fear can hold you prisoner, hope can set you free” – Shawshank Redemption
In my travels so far, I’ve had two case where I’ve really felt the fear of the unknown.
First, in New York City, when I got rid of all my material possessions in preparation for my trip. Walking out of my apartment, knowing that there was no turning back, I felt this emptiness, like a mini panic attack.
This was it. It hadn’t sunk in when I booked my plane ticket, it hadn’t sunk in when I gave my roommate one months notice. But now, when all I had in the world was one backpack worth of gear, it finally hit me, this fear of the unknown.
The second time was in Brisbane, when I set out for Sydney. I had relatives in Brisbane, a place to stay, and it was comfortable. safe. peaceful. But now, I was once again venturing into the unknown, with a Canadian couple I had barely met. And once again, the fear of the unknown set in – though this time, thankfully, it was much milder.
Maybe because I’m starting to get used to it. But this is why I left on this journey, to overcome my fears.
As (I think) quoted in The Power of Now, “when you live in the past, you feel disappointment. When you live in the future, you feel anxiety. When you live in the present, you feel at peace.”
For the first stop on my journey, I stopped at Brisbane, a river city located on the banks of the (aptly named) Brisbane River – which always to be a pleasant shade of brown. Brisbane is actually a pretty large metropolitan area, and at it’s heart is Brisbane City – rather like how Manhattan is the heart of New York City.
