Australian Adventures, Part VI - Cairns
From January 27th
I'd stayed up late the night before watching the Presidential Inauguration. More for the sake of actually making sure the momentous occasion in history actually had opportunity to pass than anything else. I really enjoyed the quartet music, it was simply beautiful. Sure "Air and Simple Gifts" by John Williams was pre-recorded, but honestly, if I was Yo-yo Ma, I sure as heck wouldn't want to play my cello sub-par for the world either. And its not like it was a recording of someone else either, come on. Aretha's hat was awesome, its even making waves on the web now! (Just google "Aretha's Hat is Everywhere") Though I felt like the sound set up didn't do her voice justice, it was not her best performance, but it wasn't me singing in below freezing temperatures either. She's still outstanding in my book. And the slip-up with the oath of office? Ouch! A more ominous omen there could not have been. But I was glad to hear they re-did it, if nothing else to continue with tradition, the same problem has happened to two Presidents before, and neither was a disaster in office (compared with the "eloquence" of our last President, I'm not worried). The speech was great, though. I loved it, loved hearing it, and am very glad to have Obama finally in office. I don't expect him to do an incredible job, I'd be happy with just a good job.
So I slept in, and enjoyed waking up to a new world in the morning. Took the train through the wall-graffiti of Brisbane. Slums are hard to come by in Australia, which I'm not sure is a testament to quality economic policy and urban planning, or just a convenient social experiment. The government certainly did a good job of hiding the native Aboriginal Australians. I'd never really heard of the horrific genocide of Tasmania (there are no surviving native Tasmanians to this day). But then again, speaking from another country that practiced vibrant colonialism through human extermination, I'm not exactly in a place to lecture. Sure my family history were some of the least of these, but having grown up for generations on soil stolen from other people, I fear for my karma. At least here there appears to be a significant effort to increase awareness of indigenous culture in the broader public mind.
I took a flight on Qantas from Brisbane up to Cairns. The view of the tropical coast was incredible, the inner mountains lush and green. I should take a moment to comment on the formulation of some of Australians land and ecosystems, its really quite intriguing.
Australia has been an island the size of a continent (all of which being somewhat subjective) for millions of years. It split off early on from the supercontinent of Gondwanaland back when mammals and birds were just forming, and as the dinosaurs were nearing their imminent demise. For this reason, it developed many of its own directions in animal species, notably the massive ratites (flightless birds of frightening size) and megafauna marsupials (as described earlier). During this time, Australia's climate was still warm and fairly lush. We can assume due to the fossil record that a variety of verdant forest covered the land, as the new soil was still fairly mineral rich. Over time, however, as Australia has moved to the position its in, this began to change. Our biggest question, why is Australia such a massive, red desert? Well, despite being a desert, its still fairly green. Unlike areas I've been such as Kuwait and Afghanistan, not all of the outback is tracks and tracks of waterless dust. There's still alot of plant life in some areas, possibly due to efforts to curb over-grazing, though this is still evident near some of the sheep and cattle stations, and anywhere that there are rabbits. Further to the coast, where water resources increase, this has changed to a more verdant, albeit scrubby, bush. Still, it has arguably been so inhospitable and waterless for longer than most deserts, giving much of its wildlife time to adapt to these conditions. Just how inhospitable? Well, geographically, Australia is positioned so that almost half of its land is in the tropics, meaning that sunshine and heat are year round. Also, a great boundary of Ocean separates it from the Antarctic polar ice. Even with moisture blowing North out of the continent, it passes over a large body of water, not land, which slows the process, preventing cold air from reaching most of the continent, even in their winter. This also strips alot of water from reaching the continent through cold fronts. North America is situated similarly, but our Canadian neighbors create an arctic wind tunnel that lets overland storms bury us in snow. Only southern florida escapes it entirely. Australia in its north and interior also lacks really any true seasons. The temperature and rains may change somewhat, but really, the rains just come whenever they can. For this reason, many of the wildlife in the outback have no particular mating period. Whenever there's a good rain, whether five times a year or once in five years, they go nuts and produce as much offspring as the resurgence in water and nutrient resources will allow. Over millions of years of time, this has resulted in a very very mineral poor topsoil layer. Even in areas that have decent water, the soil is very poor. Most other places in the world at least experience volcanic activity, mountain upwellings, or nutrient feeds from other areas. Australia has very little volcanic activity, so there's no new minerals pouring in from the earth's mantle. There's also no dust coming in from other land masses, or mountains uplifting from plate shifts. For the most part, Australia is lacking in these areas. The exception is the Great Dividing Range, a mountain system that runs right along the Eastern coast. This more recent volcanic range is what gave this region its better soil. Combine that with the eastern side of the mountains acting as a catch for all the rain water, and voila! You have the lush southern forests, and the tropical rainforests of the York Peninsula. The regular cyclones coming out of the Northeast in the Pacific also dump an immense amount of rain onto the Northeast part of the country around Darwin and Cairns. In March, Cairns regularly gets anywhere from 7 to 10 meters of rain alone. Holy cow! In turn, all this rain washes nutrients and minerals out of the volcanic mountains and down in to the valleys below, feeding the forests. Because of the short coastline, this region is also known as the land where the Rainforest meets the Reef. The short coastline means that many of the nutrients are not caught by the forests as the water flows out of the rivers, like the Daintree. Even at the coast, the numerous mangrove forests feed on a good portion of it as well, especially as they are usually in sheltered coves with almost no wave action. The remaining nutrients pour out to the Great Barrier Reef. The depth of the reefs is perfect in many ways. Not too shallow and not too deep, even with the tidal action, the reef is just the right height for coral. Combine that with all the fertilizer pouring in from the mountains and rainforests, and the coral and other reef animals are thriving. In turn, the barrier to the ocean that they create further aids the coastal lands by preventing storm surges from damaging the coastal forests, although the wind and rain of the cyclones can still get anywhere.
And I happened to be traveling just in that season.
Now, admittedly, when possible, you should travel according to the season. But when one is unable to choose the dates of travel, then the seasons become irrelevant, and it becomes more of a matter of choosing what rain gear to wear and disaster relief agency to bunk with. The weather report for the next 10 days in Cairns seemed to be some mutated amalgam of sun, rain, clouds, wind, hail, thunder, cyclones, plagues of frogs, and uncovered sunken ships from previous daily weather. I think "unpredictable" would be an understatement. Quite miraculously, though, my experience was very pleasant. It seems that most of my trip seemed to be me bringing good weather with me, and leaving the bad in my wake (sorry about that guys). In Cairns, the weather was not much different than home. It was hot and humid, sure, but also fairly sunny during the day, with periods of brief thunderstorms in the evening, cooling off with an ocean breeze.
Cairns is beautiful. That fact should also come with a clause. Here, let's try this:
Cairns is beautiful*.
* But beware of the over-abundance of tourism.
See, Cairns, once the home of sugar-cane farms and American service-men in the Pacific Theater, has found an entirely new industry that's resulted in a surge of development. Tourism.
In full recognition of the fact that I was buying in to it, I also realized that its alot harder to escape things such as that development, and consequently get off the beaten path, when you're in the thick of it. A future me will have to resolve to merely pass through, on to Port Stephens or even more interior areas where the amenities are fewer, more austere, but still just as bucolic. At the time, though, I had to make do. And it was still well worth it.
I had the good fortune to stay at a wonderful guesthouse right by the beach. My introduction to it was a bit unusual.
I was dropped off by the airport shuttle with my bags in hand, looking for the guesthouse, which seemed no where in sight. Finally, I realized that the entrance was obscured by an abundance of tropical foliage from the front courtyard, which blended so naturally it seemed more like a cottage than anything else. Quite delightful.
I wandered in to the place in the early afternoon, and just enjoying the scenery. There was a piano in the parlor room, as well as some tourist pamphlets. The furniture and decorations were something out of a movie, I couldn't quite believe where I was at. It had an almost magical quality, like I had stepped in to the same seaside accommodations of a naval officer on shore leave, or a singing duo from a 1930's musical. The concierge was no where in sight, but there was an abundant collection of hand bells at the counter, seeming to indicate prompt usage. I tried a few, but was somewhat reluctant to announce my presence as the short-tempered American, so I just meandered a bit. All of a sudden, I heard a commotion, as a venerable woman with silver hair, wrapped in a bright pink shawl burst through the door and ran past me. I followed as she spoke to herself, saying "oh dear, he's gotten out!" She looked at me and said quite naturally and familiarly, "could you help me a moment?"
Between the two of us, we managed to corner a most distressed young finch that had flown out of its cage and landed in a hibiscus bush in the courtyard by the street. The bird was hopping like mad, and falling through the leaves, when I managed to gently extract it, and held it delicately in my hands. Returning him to his caretaker, she expressed her thanks, and placed him back in his cage with the others.
The woman I had met was the one who ran the guesthouse. Despite our somewhat unexpected introduction, she was immensely gracious and hospitable, showing great courtesy and did a great deal to help smooth out my vacation plans. The guesthouse was incredible too. It had a lot of character, made me feel like I was staying with a dear relative and not in a cookie cutter or ostentatious hostel. The room was clean and neat, the bathroom enormous. I even had my own kitchenette, not to mention usage of the complete kitchen in the house. There was a great pool as well, nice and refreshing after a long run I decided to go for that evening. However, as nice and refreshing as it was, it was also unlit, and I wasn't too keen on diving in to a large, dark pool in crocodile country, as silly as that sounds. You had to see it, natural rocks, overhanging flora. Much more appealing in the day time.
I grabbed a nibble at the corner store, went for a quick evening run along the esplanade overlooking the bay. The water was an unusual color, more like a vast lake. There was also no wave action, as the reef pretty much slowed down all the water. Against the rosy sky it looked almost gray or purple. A host of birds flew overhead, or nested within the tropical trees in the park. A huge number of people were running, cycling, or playing rugby and soccer in the park. I had some trouble dodging them all, perhaps I should have stuck to the path and not ran directly through the match. No wonder they looked so angry. I suppose it would have helped if I gave the ball back.
For dinner I went to the Bay Leaf, a delightful and popular southeast asian restaurant with a combination of Thai, Indonesian, and Malay fare. I was just going to stick to main, a dish of sweet and spicy tomato/chili sauce over chicken and vegetables, but the waitress politely encouraged the entree of some skewered meats cooked with an absolutely incredible peanut sauce. I was extremely glad that I did. Also enjoyed a few cocktails of varying flavors, they were some good mixes, with a healthy dose of liquor. I was happy on the way home. I did a walk around the town for the evening, but being early in the week, and the off-season, the place was pretty dead. A late evening drizzle cooled the place off, though. I eventually found my way back, and made for an early sleep.
I'd stayed up late the night before watching the Presidential Inauguration. More for the sake of actually making sure the momentous occasion in history actually had opportunity to pass than anything else. I really enjoyed the quartet music, it was simply beautiful. Sure "Air and Simple Gifts" by John Williams was pre-recorded, but honestly, if I was Yo-yo Ma, I sure as heck wouldn't want to play my cello sub-par for the world either. And its not like it was a recording of someone else either, come on. Aretha's hat was awesome, its even making waves on the web now! (Just google "Aretha's Hat is Everywhere") Though I felt like the sound set up didn't do her voice justice, it was not her best performance, but it wasn't me singing in below freezing temperatures either. She's still outstanding in my book. And the slip-up with the oath of office? Ouch! A more ominous omen there could not have been. But I was glad to hear they re-did it, if nothing else to continue with tradition, the same problem has happened to two Presidents before, and neither was a disaster in office (compared with the "eloquence" of our last President, I'm not worried). The speech was great, though. I loved it, loved hearing it, and am very glad to have Obama finally in office. I don't expect him to do an incredible job, I'd be happy with just a good job.
So I slept in, and enjoyed waking up to a new world in the morning. Took the train through the wall-graffiti of Brisbane. Slums are hard to come by in Australia, which I'm not sure is a testament to quality economic policy and urban planning, or just a convenient social experiment. The government certainly did a good job of hiding the native Aboriginal Australians. I'd never really heard of the horrific genocide of Tasmania (there are no surviving native Tasmanians to this day). But then again, speaking from another country that practiced vibrant colonialism through human extermination, I'm not exactly in a place to lecture. Sure my family history were some of the least of these, but having grown up for generations on soil stolen from other people, I fear for my karma. At least here there appears to be a significant effort to increase awareness of indigenous culture in the broader public mind.
I took a flight on Qantas from Brisbane up to Cairns. The view of the tropical coast was incredible, the inner mountains lush and green. I should take a moment to comment on the formulation of some of Australians land and ecosystems, its really quite intriguing.
Australia has been an island the size of a continent (all of which being somewhat subjective) for millions of years. It split off early on from the supercontinent of Gondwanaland back when mammals and birds were just forming, and as the dinosaurs were nearing their imminent demise. For this reason, it developed many of its own directions in animal species, notably the massive ratites (flightless birds of frightening size) and megafauna marsupials (as described earlier). During this time, Australia's climate was still warm and fairly lush. We can assume due to the fossil record that a variety of verdant forest covered the land, as the new soil was still fairly mineral rich. Over time, however, as Australia has moved to the position its in, this began to change. Our biggest question, why is Australia such a massive, red desert? Well, despite being a desert, its still fairly green. Unlike areas I've been such as Kuwait and Afghanistan, not all of the outback is tracks and tracks of waterless dust. There's still alot of plant life in some areas, possibly due to efforts to curb over-grazing, though this is still evident near some of the sheep and cattle stations, and anywhere that there are rabbits. Further to the coast, where water resources increase, this has changed to a more verdant, albeit scrubby, bush. Still, it has arguably been so inhospitable and waterless for longer than most deserts, giving much of its wildlife time to adapt to these conditions. Just how inhospitable? Well, geographically, Australia is positioned so that almost half of its land is in the tropics, meaning that sunshine and heat are year round. Also, a great boundary of Ocean separates it from the Antarctic polar ice. Even with moisture blowing North out of the continent, it passes over a large body of water, not land, which slows the process, preventing cold air from reaching most of the continent, even in their winter. This also strips alot of water from reaching the continent through cold fronts. North America is situated similarly, but our Canadian neighbors create an arctic wind tunnel that lets overland storms bury us in snow. Only southern florida escapes it entirely. Australia in its north and interior also lacks really any true seasons. The temperature and rains may change somewhat, but really, the rains just come whenever they can. For this reason, many of the wildlife in the outback have no particular mating period. Whenever there's a good rain, whether five times a year or once in five years, they go nuts and produce as much offspring as the resurgence in water and nutrient resources will allow. Over millions of years of time, this has resulted in a very very mineral poor topsoil layer. Even in areas that have decent water, the soil is very poor. Most other places in the world at least experience volcanic activity, mountain upwellings, or nutrient feeds from other areas. Australia has very little volcanic activity, so there's no new minerals pouring in from the earth's mantle. There's also no dust coming in from other land masses, or mountains uplifting from plate shifts. For the most part, Australia is lacking in these areas. The exception is the Great Dividing Range, a mountain system that runs right along the Eastern coast. This more recent volcanic range is what gave this region its better soil. Combine that with the eastern side of the mountains acting as a catch for all the rain water, and voila! You have the lush southern forests, and the tropical rainforests of the York Peninsula. The regular cyclones coming out of the Northeast in the Pacific also dump an immense amount of rain onto the Northeast part of the country around Darwin and Cairns. In March, Cairns regularly gets anywhere from 7 to 10 meters of rain alone. Holy cow! In turn, all this rain washes nutrients and minerals out of the volcanic mountains and down in to the valleys below, feeding the forests. Because of the short coastline, this region is also known as the land where the Rainforest meets the Reef. The short coastline means that many of the nutrients are not caught by the forests as the water flows out of the rivers, like the Daintree. Even at the coast, the numerous mangrove forests feed on a good portion of it as well, especially as they are usually in sheltered coves with almost no wave action. The remaining nutrients pour out to the Great Barrier Reef. The depth of the reefs is perfect in many ways. Not too shallow and not too deep, even with the tidal action, the reef is just the right height for coral. Combine that with all the fertilizer pouring in from the mountains and rainforests, and the coral and other reef animals are thriving. In turn, the barrier to the ocean that they create further aids the coastal lands by preventing storm surges from damaging the coastal forests, although the wind and rain of the cyclones can still get anywhere.
And I happened to be traveling just in that season.
Now, admittedly, when possible, you should travel according to the season. But when one is unable to choose the dates of travel, then the seasons become irrelevant, and it becomes more of a matter of choosing what rain gear to wear and disaster relief agency to bunk with. The weather report for the next 10 days in Cairns seemed to be some mutated amalgam of sun, rain, clouds, wind, hail, thunder, cyclones, plagues of frogs, and uncovered sunken ships from previous daily weather. I think "unpredictable" would be an understatement. Quite miraculously, though, my experience was very pleasant. It seems that most of my trip seemed to be me bringing good weather with me, and leaving the bad in my wake (sorry about that guys). In Cairns, the weather was not much different than home. It was hot and humid, sure, but also fairly sunny during the day, with periods of brief thunderstorms in the evening, cooling off with an ocean breeze.
Cairns is beautiful. That fact should also come with a clause. Here, let's try this:
Cairns is beautiful*.
* But beware of the over-abundance of tourism.
See, Cairns, once the home of sugar-cane farms and American service-men in the Pacific Theater, has found an entirely new industry that's resulted in a surge of development. Tourism.
In full recognition of the fact that I was buying in to it, I also realized that its alot harder to escape things such as that development, and consequently get off the beaten path, when you're in the thick of it. A future me will have to resolve to merely pass through, on to Port Stephens or even more interior areas where the amenities are fewer, more austere, but still just as bucolic. At the time, though, I had to make do. And it was still well worth it.
I had the good fortune to stay at a wonderful guesthouse right by the beach. My introduction to it was a bit unusual.
I was dropped off by the airport shuttle with my bags in hand, looking for the guesthouse, which seemed no where in sight. Finally, I realized that the entrance was obscured by an abundance of tropical foliage from the front courtyard, which blended so naturally it seemed more like a cottage than anything else. Quite delightful.
I wandered in to the place in the early afternoon, and just enjoying the scenery. There was a piano in the parlor room, as well as some tourist pamphlets. The furniture and decorations were something out of a movie, I couldn't quite believe where I was at. It had an almost magical quality, like I had stepped in to the same seaside accommodations of a naval officer on shore leave, or a singing duo from a 1930's musical. The concierge was no where in sight, but there was an abundant collection of hand bells at the counter, seeming to indicate prompt usage. I tried a few, but was somewhat reluctant to announce my presence as the short-tempered American, so I just meandered a bit. All of a sudden, I heard a commotion, as a venerable woman with silver hair, wrapped in a bright pink shawl burst through the door and ran past me. I followed as she spoke to herself, saying "oh dear, he's gotten out!" She looked at me and said quite naturally and familiarly, "could you help me a moment?"
Between the two of us, we managed to corner a most distressed young finch that had flown out of its cage and landed in a hibiscus bush in the courtyard by the street. The bird was hopping like mad, and falling through the leaves, when I managed to gently extract it, and held it delicately in my hands. Returning him to his caretaker, she expressed her thanks, and placed him back in his cage with the others.
The woman I had met was the one who ran the guesthouse. Despite our somewhat unexpected introduction, she was immensely gracious and hospitable, showing great courtesy and did a great deal to help smooth out my vacation plans. The guesthouse was incredible too. It had a lot of character, made me feel like I was staying with a dear relative and not in a cookie cutter or ostentatious hostel. The room was clean and neat, the bathroom enormous. I even had my own kitchenette, not to mention usage of the complete kitchen in the house. There was a great pool as well, nice and refreshing after a long run I decided to go for that evening. However, as nice and refreshing as it was, it was also unlit, and I wasn't too keen on diving in to a large, dark pool in crocodile country, as silly as that sounds. You had to see it, natural rocks, overhanging flora. Much more appealing in the day time.
I grabbed a nibble at the corner store, went for a quick evening run along the esplanade overlooking the bay. The water was an unusual color, more like a vast lake. There was also no wave action, as the reef pretty much slowed down all the water. Against the rosy sky it looked almost gray or purple. A host of birds flew overhead, or nested within the tropical trees in the park. A huge number of people were running, cycling, or playing rugby and soccer in the park. I had some trouble dodging them all, perhaps I should have stuck to the path and not ran directly through the match. No wonder they looked so angry. I suppose it would have helped if I gave the ball back.
For dinner I went to the Bay Leaf, a delightful and popular southeast asian restaurant with a combination of Thai, Indonesian, and Malay fare. I was just going to stick to main, a dish of sweet and spicy tomato/chili sauce over chicken and vegetables, but the waitress politely encouraged the entree of some skewered meats cooked with an absolutely incredible peanut sauce. I was extremely glad that I did. Also enjoyed a few cocktails of varying flavors, they were some good mixes, with a healthy dose of liquor. I was happy on the way home. I did a walk around the town for the evening, but being early in the week, and the off-season, the place was pretty dead. A late evening drizzle cooled the place off, though. I eventually found my way back, and made for an early sleep.