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1/20/2010

Australia: Land of Contrast

Back in 1980’s America there existed a tangible fascination with Australia and all things down under. From Paul Hogan and his adventures in the Crocodile Dundee series to Men at Work singing about vegemite sandwiches, things were going well for the reputation of those from the former penal colony.

Twenty years later, long after the initial wave of Aussie interest, I finally made my way to the Outback. Alright, maybe I stayed in Sydney and therefore not technically brush country, but it was close enough to travel to the neighboring towns and check off items on my faded yellow, mental sticky note of things that needed to be seen.

The note read as follows: Boomerangs
Aboriginal Culture
Didgeridoos (The low pitched wind instrument)
Vegemite
The Sydney Opera House
The Harbor Bridge
Koalas
Bandicoots
Wombats
A Dingo (Preferably not eating a baby)
Kangaroos

A cliché list indeed, but I figure that the rest of what Australia had to offer would work itself out naturally and bond the whole experience together like play-doh in shag carpeting.

I was barely off the plane and saw the first item on my list, boomerangs. Every traveling parent and grandparent must buy these things and bring them back to their kids and grandkids alike and thus you really can’t throw one without hitting a store that sells them and returning with a receipt for $5.95.

After settling at the hotel and making my way to the Sydney harbor I was ready to hit the streets with my camera ready to document the Aussie experience.

Something in the air seemed familiar. Step after step through the busy Sydney streets brought me closer and closer to this illusive yet familiar phantom.

I looked into shops, bought some postcards and t-shirts. I stopped at an outdoor market and bought a delicious Black Angus steak sandwich from a tall Australian gentleman with dirty blonde hair that was matted with sweat to his forehead. I also purchased a chocolate fudge brownie from a small, older Asian woman who lured me in with a free sample on a toothpick. I have always been a sucker for a free sample. Suddenly I found my belly filled with warmth and a sense of hope, which is an odd sensation for food to bring; yet it somehow was there.

Fueled up and ready to continue on, I slowly made my way down to where the Opera House is viewable. Tourists were lined up along the waterfront snapping a photograph in front of one of the most recognizable structures the world has to offer. One simple picture- something to frame and put in your cubicle to remind yourself there is indeed more outside of those fabric covered walls, those 9-5 prisons.

I was impressed at the sheer size of the harbor itself. To my left stood the Harbor Bridge, stretched mightily across the blue and green waters of the Pacific Ocean. The waves gently lapping up along side the white clamshell-esque structure of the Opera House on my right.

Funny how the mind works sometimes, or in my case, most the times; I was suddenly transported back to my childhood, watching the ball drop in Times Square on television on New Year’s Eve. They would show clips from celebrations across the world and every year they would show the Sydney Harbor, with fireworks exploding into furious reds and brilliant whites over the bridge and the opera house. Years late I would find myself working in the News business for CBS and FOX television, editing that very same video footage, and eventually back to watching it again from the back of a Live truck as a field photographer. And yet, all that was a distant memory as I stood betwixt the monumental bosom of Lady Sydney herself, no longer watching it on a television monitor but staring at it through my own eyes, not a lens.

Suddenly the escaping sense of home had struck again. I thought it was perhaps the salt air of the ocean wafting in the breeze that was causing the phenomena, but I have traveled many places before that border various bodies of salt water and none of have brought me as close to home as this. It must be something else.

A steady techno beat mixed with the unmistakable throaty tones of the didgeridoo lured me away from the waterfront and over to a gentleman, painted up like a traditional Aborigine, whom was seated playing the instrument to a small crowd. He had his obligatory hat for collecting donations as well as a stack of CD’s for sale.

Funny thing about this man and his “didgeridoing”- it never stopped, even when his lips went from the mouthpiece to a cigarette. It would prove to be that this man was no more a native than I was, and that his music was actually being lip-synched, if in fact one can lip sync a didgeridoo musical movement.

A little disheartened, but nonetheless able to check off another item on my list, I continued out of the town and further into the countryside. There I was witness to numerous wombats, though unfortunately they were all deceased and laying in various contorted positions along the roadside. Curious looking little creatures though, as if a small bear had mated with a gopher, and was then hit with a vehicle traveling at high speeds. It is said that one in five accidents in Australia is wildlife related, and I could see why. I wondered what insurance premiums were like.

Koala’s were proving to be difficult to locate despite staring into the roadside treetops for countless moments. Dingo’s were another one whom were eluding both my contact and camera lenses.

The bandicoot is an interesting little animal indeed as it is actually against the law to photograph it if you are using a flash. Apparently the bright flash scares the little critters to death, literally.

As I continued to count the white dividing lines as they clicked past the grill of the car, noting another mile traveled, another minute of my life rushed past, I began to whimsically gaze up into the passing hillsides. Some were so steep that they seemed to pierce the sky itself. Things were different here, the clouds seemed whiter and more pure, and the sky more blue and tranquil. The stark contrast between the brown and yellow hills and the passing heavens was unreal- it was like watching a 3-D movie but without the special glasses and over-priced popcorn that vary by size and twenty-five cents. Words, no matter how flowery, can simply not do the beauty of Australia justice. It was as if my eyes had lost their virginity.

Stopping at a roadside store I saw jars of Vegemite. Let’s just say it must be an acquired taste that I have yet to acquire. I think I can honestly say I will live out the rest of this life without ever acquiring such a taste.

Back on the road it became increasingly apparent that Dingos were also going to be something I would not be able to acquire upon this trip. However kangaroos made up for it, being in abundance both hopping along the roadside, and in some cases, laying lifeless on the blacktop, like furry refrigerators thrown out of a truck. In the coming days I would even be able to chase some kangaroos across a golf course on a hi-jacked golf cart. I don’t play golf, unless there are windmills and clowns involved, so my day on the green was spent harassing kangaroos and snapping pictures.

With my Aussie experience coming to a close I found myself in want for more. Such a distant place that reminded me of home I had never seen. The impressive landscapes, the various wildlife, the vibrant life, the cold death, the elusive feeling of familiarity, it was all here in the down under, on the other side of the world, far from anything I had known or could have even imagined.