The Red Center

Australia's Red Center is totally worth it. The nature is superb--this is the Australia of my imagination. Burnt red rock and soil color the landscape. Shocking blue skies meet surprisingly green trees and bush. If you have the patience to withstand the heat and the flies, the region offers some truly beautiful nature and abundant wildlife. The MacDonnels, a lengthy mountain range that bookends Alice Springs, is best known for the sights in the Western ranges. Gorges, gaps and chasms abound creating natural habitats for black footed rock wallabies and many birds of prey, including wedged tail eagles. Kings Canyon, south and west of Alice Springs, offers a chance to climb rocks overlooking a deep canyon where the earth's shifts are recorded dutifully on the Canyon walls.

After years of living with Mara and having photos of Uluru hang on my walls, I finally had the good fortune to see the great rock with my own two eyes. I expected to be disappointed, seeing that Ayres Rock is after all just a rock. As we approached at sunset, it was clear that there was nothing simple or disappointing to be seen. Massive and varied depending on where you stand and the time of day it is viewed, the rock could quiet even the loudest critic. Aboriginal art, caves and the occasional water hole made walking around parts of the base well worth it. The site is of spiritual importance to the local Aboriginal groups and despite their desire that no one climb the rock, a climb is possible in cooler weather.

Forty-five kilometers west of Uluru, the 36 domes of the Olgas stand in solid challenge to the popularity of Uluru. In truth, the Olgas were beautiful and much more climbable than Uluru. We hiked the Valley of the Winds walk, a trek up red rock face and down green plains, always accompanied by the walks namesake, and our two Czech friends, Micha and Milan. Another 700ks and we slumbered in Coober Pedy, a town that produces 80% of the world's opal and where one third of the town lives underground to escape the heat. Underground hotels, camp sites, bars, businesses, and even churches exist under the city's cover.

Not yet out of the Outback, we spent two days in the Flinders Ranges, a 400k long range. We spent our time in the Central Ranges, best known for the Wilpena Pound, a huge circular range surrounding flat bush. As we drove through the camp on our first night, we stopped in front a big tent with a couple sitting in front of it, enjoying a few beers as kangaroos quietly chowing down on the grass around their tent. We threw the car in park, grabbed the camera and went at photographing these friendly creatures. We ended up pulling up a few chairs, sharing the sunset and a few beers with this friendly Aussie couple and a host of kangas. Andy and Angela, our new friends, were really nice and were the first Aussies who spoke openly about Australia's relationship with the Aboriginal communities around the country. As informative as it was, nothing tops drinking beers with kangaroos.

After a few chilly nights of good sleep in the Flinders, we headed south and out of the Outback. Just past Port Augusta we saw the ocean for the first time in two weeks--it was like manna for the eyes after weeks of driving through drab bush. Just as Christmas Eve descended, we arrived in Adelaide in time to check into a hostel, our first stay in a backpackers since Sydney. Clean and full of nice people, we hunkered down to weather Christmas and Boxing Day. Two holidays, one day right after the other--no cinemas, no cafes, no museums. So we ate, slept, read and slept some more. So far, I like Adelaide.

To see photos of Alice Springs and the West MacDonnels, please click me

To see photos of Kings Canyon, please click me

To see photos of Uluru and the Olgas, please click me

To see photos of Coober Pedy, the Flinders Ranges & Adelaide, please click me

The Outback

The desert is intense. It is at once beautiful and confounding. The days are full of a sun and heat that overwhelm you. The desire to drink water is ever present but not matter how much you drink your thirst is never slaked. All the moisture leaves your skin and lips making, chapstick equal to gold, a melted necessity. The only relief comes when the sun sets, but the ground has been heated for so long that it is only in the early morning that you feel the need to pull a light cover over you. The heat is not the only thing that serves to blanket you in the outback; the flies are an acknowledged way of life. They occur in such mass that it is often maddening to do even the smallest things--cook, eat, breathe, walk. Flies are attracted to wetness and land on your eyes, ears, mouth, the places most hospitable to them and most invasive to you. Dingoes, an indigenous breed of wild dog, circle the van at night, howling and in search of food. Scorpions litter the sidewalk, calmly waiting to strike passersby. Rain rarely falls in this stretch of Australia, leaving the land as thirsty as its inhabitants. The terrain is vast and scorched. At times there is nothing bur dry grass on the side of the road but at other times small mountains and green trees pop up to surprise you with their vitality. As the sun sets each day, kangaroos and wallabies head to the road in search of warmth usually to met their end at the unyielding hands of a novice outback driver. The road is never without carcasses--kangaroos, cows, lizards, and the massive red mounds made by industrious termites determined to build structures that dwarf cows, cars, and even some humans. With all of that taken into account, people live here. Small towns dot the Northern Territory and the top of South Australia, outposts to a lifestyle long passed by. There is some humanity, though--a custom of waving at the oncoming driver exists, a way to acknowledge the only other human for miles.


Days of driving and finally we took the turn south toward Alice Springs. At once, the land betrayed its name, and turned the deep red of clay, offset by a constant and cloudless blue sky.

A Rough Welcome

Many people we've met along the way, Australians and travelers alike, describe the drive from the east coast to the Red Centre and back out without much enthusiasm. The road was rumored to be treeless, flat and completely lacking in points of interest. All of the rumors are true, but there is definitely novelty in exploring the outback for the first time. The roads are indeed the opposite of our coastal and country drives, but each stretch of road and each small town has its own feeling and its own characters. We drove west from Townsville to a town called Hughenden, a town similar to all the others we would come across--fuel station, caravan park, last month's magazines.

We stopped at a decent looking park, drove through the grounds and pulled back up to the reception where we were greeted by the owner who had come chasing after us on his scooter, "What the f**k are you doing? There's a f**king English stop sign right there!" Obviously perturbed by the fact that we drove through his camp after noting that he was absent from the reception, we calmly explained that since he was not in the office upon our arrival, we took a little look around. After realizing we hadn't destroyed his park in our little look-see, he calmed a bit, and we settled in for the night. Seeing as he placed us in the only area of the park that was muddy and adjacent to the trash cans, we moved to a better spot after dark. Most parks, big or small, will upgrade you or put you in the best spot of the numbers are low--not the status quo for this guy. At 6:40 am the next morning we heard footsteps in the gravel behind our van, and as the back door was open, mosquito net dutifully attached, we ducked low so as not to be observed by the passerby. "What the f**K are yous doing over here? I put you over there! You have been a f**king pain in my ass since you got here!" He was back. Both shocked into being awake, we washed up and got out of there. It took over an hour before either of US were able to talk--a rough welcome to the outback. For the next 3 days, we averaged about 600 ks a day, passing through towns boasting marine dinosaur fossils and the record for Australia's hottest day--127.5 F, but it was this crazy guy that most impressed us.

To see photos of the Outback, please click me

The Tablelands

We bid Cairns adieu and for the first time in over a month, we took the road south. Instead of following the coast as we had coming north, we headed inland to an area known as the Atherton Tablelands. Almost immediately the scenery changed from coast and sand to rolling hills, big trees, waterfalls, and lakes. Over two days we saw all that the area had to offer. Beautiful waterfalls surrounded by rain forests were packed into just a few kilometers, each one unique. In Enungella we met a British couple who enlightened us to the wonders of the Tablelands and pointed us to the real draw of the area--the Cathedral Fig Tree and the Curtain Fig Tree. It seems odd to get excited about trees but both were worth true, wonder filled, mouth-hanging-open excitement. We visited the Cathedral Fig first, named for its height and the way it branches extend to the skies, allowing magnificent glimpses of sunlight to cascade down its branches to its massive trunk. At 50 meters high and 500 years old, the tree was simply amazing. The Curtain Fig a way down the road is an example of a strangler--another tree fell on the original tree, strangling it with its branches and in a sense swallowing it until the branches disintegrated and a new shape V shaped base was formed. The strangling is still evident, as many branches reach across in a sort of a death hug that resembles a webbed curtain. Both trees reside in forests of regular trees, emphasizing their size and beauty--it would take 24 people holding hands to make a circle around the Curtain.

After leaving the Cathedral Fig, we headed to a lookout touted to be one of the region's best. We left the main road and passed beyond the first of two gates that led down a dirt road. At first, the road was flat and level but after 2 ks the path began climbing steep hills and dropping down winding descents. Our van has spirit but there were many points at which we thought Astro Boy would quit us. The lookout was nice, beautiful, but not that much different than the scenery available from the main roads. This is one of the times that you wish you could give the writers of Lonely Planet a piece of your mind.

We woke early after a night spent at Lake Eacham to chance viewing a platypus. These shy creatures only show themselves at dusk and dawn, not the usual trekking hours. We roused ourselves early, drank down cups of hot coffee and started off on Petersen's Creek Walk, a local trail known to produce sightings. We sat at the viewing platform and watched the water for movement. We sat and sat. After about ten minutes we started walking along the creek, following the old idiom: change your location, change your luck. Within 5 minutes, our luck changed and a baby platypus appeared. At first you see air bubbles on the surface and then the little creature comes above water and ducks back under. We saw two babies along our walk and both graced us with many above water appearances--totally worth waking up for.

With our time in the Tablelands complete, we headed south of Townsville to Alva Beach, a very small town that serves just one purpose--to shuttle enthusiastic and adventurous divers out and back to the S.S. Yongala, a ship that wrecked off the coast of Australia in the early 20th century and one of the best wreck dives in the world. Oded took this one solo and brought back stories of rough currents, big fish, and descriptions of the still intact wreck. Back on land we hit up the grocery store, the gas station and the local boating, camping and fishing depot. With ten days in the outback in our immediate future we needed food, water, fuel and mosquito netting galore. With all our gear in tow, we set out for the 2000K drive to Alice Springs and the Red Center.

To see photos of the Atherton Tablelands, please click me

The GREAT Barrier Reef

So after all my training in the waters of Thailand, I finally made it to the Great Barrier Reef. There is a lot of back and forth about whether or not the Great Barrier Reef is worth all of the fuss made about it--some argue that the Red Sea is better, some just have bad days, but in order to really know, you have to try it for yourself.

We boarded Ocean Freedom early on a Sunday and headed straight out to the reef, a little over an hour by boat from Cairns. The sea was a gorgeous color of turquoise and the weather was clear and hot. We spent the first part of the morning snorkeling and learning about the reef on a glass bottom boat. We snorkeled at Upulo Cay--a small sand island in the middle of shallow water and reef. By small I mean it fits maybe ten people at most--in 20 million years, if conditions are right, it could be a real island. The water was clear and the visibility was great--just snorkeling we saw tons of fish and a blue spotted stingray.

Just minutes after snorkeling, they called all the divers together and told us we were heading out for us first dive. We pulled on stinger suits, a wet suit like outfit, but much thinner and meant to protect from all of the ocean's jelly fish. We piled into a little speed boat and motored away to a solitary spot, far away from the boat, with no divers for miles. Sitting on the edge of the boat, we tipped backwards and began our descent. We swam along a wall of reef covered in all sorts of colors and formations. The first dive was nice but it was easy to see why people were not overly impressed with the Great Barrier Reef; aside from a napoleon fish, we didn't see anything too exciting.

Back on the boat and with a few bites of food in us, we headed out for the second dive with a different dive master. This dive master rocked--she pointed out everything from sea sponges to nemos to a huge crayfish with tentacles a meter wide. We told her at the beginning of the dive that we really wanted to see sharks. she said she knew where one hung out 50% of the time, but I didn't get my hopes up too high. This spot was called the Wonder Wall and the reef itself was really beautiful. As we turned a corner, I saw the dive master raise her hand to her head, signalling that a shark was in view. I was so confused because all I could see was a huge sea turtle, but she kept signalling for a shark so I turned my head a little to the left and there was white tipped reef shark. Only a meter apart, the turtle and the shark hung out for a few minutes swimming around, letting us swim above and next to them. The shark even left and came back which is really rare as reef sharks usually leave when people are near. It was unbelievable. We surfaced and could not believe our luck. We are now part of the Great Barrier Reef fan club, so now when we are drawn into the debate between the Reef and the Red Sea, the Great Barrier Reef will be catalogued as a great place to dive. In just six dives, I have gotten to see two sharks, turtles, nemos and tons of big fish--by all means, I have been very fortunate, and it only serves to increase my excitement for my next dive.

To see photos of the Great Barrier Reef, please click me

Far North Queensland

You drive and drive and drive, and there are still more beautiful places to see and more fun to have along Australia's east coast.

Jourama Falls

At the recommendation of Sonja, we detoured on our way north to Jourama Falls--a hot trek through dense forest and huge boulders that led us out to a really lovely collection of rock pools fed by one main waterfall. We took a quick swim to cool off but it seems our old friend, the leech, was determined to crash our party. A few frenzied minutes of pulling leeches off and we were back on our way north. We stopped overnight in Mission Beach and by morning we were en route to Cairns.

Cairns

Cairns was the town we had been waiting for--after weeks of going off the beaten path, Cairns was the place, the spot where backpackers start and end their Australian journey. Cheap internet cafes all claiming to have the fastest service in town sit in between bars offering free meals to backpackers and nightspots that draw Europe's youth. The crowning jewel of Cairns is an endless blue lagoon stretching from the center of the city to the edge of the coast--a big pool where tourist and locals, young and old alike, come to frolic in an effort to escape the ever present heat.

All in all, we spent 4 or 5 days lounging around Cairns, emailing, swimming in the lagoon, diving, and making new friends. We spent a night eating and drinking with a pair of German brothers, another night barbecuing with a mix of Israelis, Irish, Austrians, Colombians, and even a girl from Trinidad. Everyone is on a different path--many have been living and working picking fruit in Australia, others are driving around Australia just like we are, while others are still looking forward to locations ranging from Singapore to Argentina. It is not hard to understand why most travelers come to Cairns for a few days and stay longer than intended.

Cape Tribulation, Mossman Gorge & the Daintree National Park

In the midst of all the fun, we took a hiatus from Cairns and headed even farther north to the Daintree National Forest, an area that includes Cape Tribulation and Mossman Gorge. The drive up was among the most beautiful drives I have seen, falling right in with the Pacific Coast Highway, the Oregon Coast and I hope the Great Ocean Road. We set out early after spending the night close to the Daintree River. The area and specifically Cape Tribulation are known for lush rainforests, gorgeous beaches, and cassowaries--a large turkey like animal with a blue head and a slow, loping walk. Going extinct, if you actually spot a cassowary, you are lucky. We saw two!

We took four walks through the rainforest, each one different from the next. Big fan palms shaded one walk, while large grass and twisted tree barks lined another. Roots stuck out all along the edges of one walk and rain accompanied us along the way, just to make sure that the experience was authentic. We ended the stretch of walks at Cape Tribulation itself, a spot made famous because it is the only place in the world where the rainforest meets the reef. It is a beautiful and jarring sight. We ended the day with a dip in Mossman Gorge, one of the many waterfalls and swimming holes along the coast.

Port Douglas

We spent the next morning recharging in the posh town on Port Douglas. Just 60K north of Cairns, this town is the Nimbin of the north minus the hippies. Cafes, art galleries, and expensive coffee is for the taking. We each sipped $4 coffees and relaxed in the air conditioning before taking in the Marina and quaint avenues.

Kuranda

With many recommendations to check out this tiny town just west of Cairns, we ventured out there on our way back from the far north. Full of markets, wildlife and a lovely jungle trek, we wasted the better part of an afternoon looking around. Seeing as the town closed at 4 pm on a Saturday (no joke), we headed to a waterfalls a few minutes away from the center. At this point, I am reluctant to go to waterfalls--they are always pretty and usually not terribly impressive. This one was so worth it--huge, volcanic, full of little pools at all levels and surrounded in bright green moss and ferns. Created by some sort of shifting of plates that is too complex for me to understand at a glance, the beauty was unmatched and such a treat.

To see photos of Far North Queensland, please click me

A Little Drink

Many towns along Australia's east coast serve as a gateway to a better destination and Townsville is no exception. The biggest city in North Queensland, Townsville is the hopping over point to Magnetic Island, a stretch of beaches that earned their name because they interfered with Captain Cook's compass. Backpackers rave about Magnetic--beautiful bays, great food, and lots of wild life--but the farther in we get in Australia, the harder it is to really make an impression on us. Everywhere is beautiful--the entire coast is full of gorgeous beaches, the treks are loaded with birds, reptiles, and wildlife, and the towns are places you can imagine coming back to time and again. It's not that Australia has ceased to amaze us--quite the opposite--it so constantly delivers that I am holding onto "amazing" as a supreme judgement only to be used when it is really worth it.

We spent just a day on Magnetic, taking the ferry there and back. The day was cloudless and scorching hot but we decided to trek from Horseshoe Bay to all the little bays that can only be reached by foot. We started out across the a stretch of sand and within five minutes, we were lost. There were no signs and water on three sides of us, so our only option was to turn around. A houseboat bobbed in the little creek to our right and in a last effort, I yelled out a greeting to see if anyone was inside, hopefully a warm and welcoming stranger who would offer us directions. Instead, a man most likely equal in weight and age (somewhere around 90), with a long white beard, appeared on deck. He put two fingers to his mouth and ears and then crossed himself, an gesture I assumed was meant to indicate that he neither spoke nor was able to hear. I waved, said thanks and was about to move on when he began shouting a string of expletives at me to the point of how much he hated travelers, that he wouldn't help us, and why didn't we ask the town to put up better signs. We found out later that he has been illegally squatting on that creek for fifteen years. Eventually we made found our way and trekked along the coast from Balding Bay to Radical Bay and finally to Florence Bay.

At Florence, we stopped to rest and admire another couple's foresight--they had sarongs laid out with snorkel gear, wine glasses and the leftovers of a picnic. As we were leaving, the couple emerged from the water. We exchanged a few lines about the weather and the sea and before we knew it, the four of us were headed to the local bar for a "little drink." The couple, a 69 year old Austrian who has been living in OZ for 52 years and his 36 year old wife, were as nice as they come. By the time we were wrapping up our second drink, it was decided that we were coming over for dinner and were invited to stay the night. By night fall, a few more friends had joined. Bottles of wine and cider flowed, plates of fruits, cheese, and olives kept coming and that was all before the meal. Conversation was mostly about travel and what it was like to live in all the countries represented at the table--US, Israel, Australia, Britain, New Zealand and Austria. In the end, we made our way back to the ferry but not without promises to visit again sometime soon.

To see photos of Magnetic Island, please click me

Iceberg

Airlie Beach is a cubic zirconium to Whitsunday's diamond; with sand brought in from its neighbor to the north, Bowen, Airlie was constructed as a gateway to the famed Whitsunday Islands. Bars, ethnic eateries, and the ever present Subway line Airlie's main strip, but the town has no genuine charm. We spent the night in a park populated by "schoolies"--Australian school kids (16 & 17) on holiday. They drank and sang all night long, answering the lingering question of why the park receptionist wanted to make sure I was not indeed a schoolie. Unfortunately, her question did not deter the kids, known all over OZ to wreak havoc in this week of holiday celebration.

On no sleep, we arrived at Abel Marina, where we met the ten other folks with whom we would spend the next two days sailing around the Whitsunday Islands. The group was a mix of Brits, Germans, Dutch, and an Aussie--all mellow and friendly. The boat, the Iceberg, set sail around 8:30 am and sailed for about three hours between the larger, outer set of islands. We dropped anchor about lunchtime, pulled on wetsuits, and spent the better part of an hour snorkeling around some amazing reef. The sea floor is an altogether mystifying thing--purples, turquoises and hot pinks existing in a complex system of eat
and be eaten. The beauty is unparalleled and the ability to observe it up close is a true gift. Not yet dry from our time in the water, we pulled close to Whithaven Beach. As we stepped out of the dinghy into the crystal clear water, it became clear that we had the beach to ourselves. The sand is white--gleaming--and so soft it feels like someone spilled bags of flour on the ground. A helicopter hovered above , taking in the view, and added to the surreal rock star quality that comes from the combination of a sail boat, a helicopter and a white beach. We walked on the hot sand until we reached a marshy area--if the beach felt like flour, this stretch was like bread dough right after the yeast has been added. Our feet sunk to mid calf and each step took effort but it was worth it--we trudged across the marsh to a little ocean pool, an inlet created by the tide patterns. By far, this is the most beautiful beach I have ever seen--Australia recognizes its gems and keeps them protected, clean and free of commercial development. We returned to the boat, and the drinking commenced. Dinner was hot and full of vegetables.

Lack of a door and an early sunrise made for an early morning. After a quick breakfast and a short dinghy ride, we were back on Whithaven, this time at a different bay. Still gorgeous with water colored in every shade of blue, Benny Bay offered a maritime treat--just at the shoreline, groups of stingrays crowded the water, digging under the sand to camouflage themselves and reappearing again. While I have no fond feelings for them, to see so many at such a shallow depth was lucky. Back on the boat, we sailed to our last snorkeling spot which was full of angel fish and clown fish.

To see photos of the Whitsunday Islands, please click me

Fair Trade

From Rockhampton we headed north and a bit west to Eungella National Park. After a 5K climb, we reached the Eungella region and the park where we had made a reservation. The reception was already closed and requested that we pay in the morning. Trust is alive in well in Eungella. The park overlooked the entire valley and neighboring peaks, whetting our appetites for the next day. We spent the night trading stories with a British couple and a trio of Germans. Long after sunset, clouds fell at our feet, giving credence to the town's Aboriginal name, "land where the clouds lie low over the mountains." We woke the next day to what looked like a snow day. Pure white clouds covered the land as far as the eye could see. I fell back asleep with dreams of my mom's pancakes and hot chocolate, snow day staples, but I awoke in Australia, the clouds having lifted to reveal a beautiful day. We lounged for a bit, eating breakfast with our new German friends. Before heading out, we swapped six Heath Bars for the use of Gayo's computer. In my opinion, this was a totally fair trade. We called my mom on skype for the first time since I left the US. It was 6:30 pm on November 25th, her 60th birthday. Happy birthday Mom! It was so awesome to see my Mom and Dad's faces, but now I miss them more. They went off to dinner and left our new friends to go explore the national park.

Oded has accrued the majority of injuries so far--a sprained finger, a pulled neck muscle, sea sickness--not really an injury but a bummer all the same. My turn had come. We hiked in to the Finch Hutton Gorge, stopping to check out some falls and watering holes along the way. After almost 3Ks, we made it to the main swimming hole, a big, cold circle fed by a modest falls. Oded jumped right in, but the two eels slinking around kept me from cannon balling immediately. The eels were soon joined by a rogue shrimp. As I moved out of its path, I slipped on a large submerged rock, and crashed down hard on my right side. I tend to pride myself in being more graceful than this but alas grace had deserted me. In her place, pain arrived. It hurt--like hell--but not for long. Now wet, I dove from the cliffs and swam with the eels. By night, I resembled Miranda in the episode of Sex and The City that she strains her neck. She can't move her neck or her body and Aidan has to pick her up off the bathroom floor... It was awful. Fortunately I am 29 years young and healed quickly.

To see photos of Eungella National Park, please click me

Koalas at last!

We arrived in Rockhampton about half past two in the afternoon. All we knew of the town is that it is known for great steaks--clearly this was enough reason for us to stop. The information center at the town's edge recommended that we visit the local zoo/botanical gardens before heading out to dinner. Without realizing what valuable information they had just imparted, we jumped in the van and headed straight there, aware that a much awaited experience was at hand. We pulled up to the zoo and followed a number of signs to the far side of the park and there it was, finally--a real, live koala. We had arrived in Rockhampton exactly at koala feeding time. We skipped the larger, more commercial Australia zoo in hopes of spotting a cuddly bear in the wild, but after days of disappointments, Rockhampton delivered free of charge.

We settled into the caravan park around dusk and then headed to our first meal out in Australia--aside from the occasional gelato, we had yet to dine out in OZ. The Ascot Grill, a keno bar slash steak joint, is run by an old local and one waitress and served as our introduction to Australian dining. After waiting a good bit for menus, we ordered steak, red wine, fries, and steamed veggies. The steak arrived rare on a stone grill, hence the name, heated to 400 degrees Celsius. Oded ordered a 400 gram Porterhouse and I ate his sides and a few bites of his steak just to see what all the fuss is about--no one can say I don't live dangerously. All in all, the outing was a success but it is not to say we weren't back to cooking our own food the next night.

To see photos of Rockhampton, please click me

Fraser Island

From Noosa, we headed up to Rainbow Beach; mostly used as a departure point to Fraser Island, Rainbow has all the features a backpacker requires, but none of the charm of Noosa. We arrived with enough time to sleep, ice our groceries, and store our van before getting picked up for our excursion to Fraser Island. Fraser is known as the world's largest sand island, and is the only place on the planet where rain forest grows straight out of the sand. Eliza Fraser, her husband James, and their crew wrecked on the island on their way from England in the mid 19th century. Part of the crew headed north, but Eliza and James headed south where the came into contact with the Aborigines, who were already living on the island. James was killed and Eliza was held hostage. After 9 months, Englishmen came looking for the crew and recognized Eliza immediately--a white woman among natives. She returned to England but ultimately came back to Australia, the country that named an island for her.

The island contains some stunning and unique spots. We first trekked over a long sand dune that stretched to the point of desert. At its peak, it descended into a perfect sledding hill, and ended in cool, dark blue water, edged with leafy, green trees. On our second day on the island, we drove down a long stretch of coast, coined 75 mile beach, stopping to check out the colored sands*, the Maheno shipwreck, and a lookout that revealed sea turtles and manta rays. The island's biggest draw, Lake Mackenzie, deserves the hype. The water is crystal clear and aquamarine. The beach was packed with young Europeans drinking the beauty and the local beer, living up all that the island had to offer.

*The colored sands, known as the Pinnacles, are a sacred Aboriginal women's site. Legend has it that a young woman fell in love with a rainbow. A loyal lover, the rainbow appeared day after day without fail. In time, an evil man captured her and kept her against her will. She ran away, but to no avail. The evil man followed her, throwing his boomerang after her to bring her back, but her lover intervened. The rainbow came to the young girl's defense, but before the rainbow succeeded, the boomerang collided with it, causing the rainbow to explode, coloring the sand below in reds and deep oranges. The young girl escaped and Aboriginal women now view these sands as a memorial to women's spirit and power.

To see photos of Fraser Island, please click me

Noosa--Virginia represent!

We made our way north at a rapid pace, by most standards, but we stopped often and took in most of the highlights on the east coast. Noosa is the perfect beach town--friendly and mellow with a gorgeous coast lined with art galleries, camper vans and tasty gelato stands. We stayed only two nights but it was long enough to really explore. We spent the better part of one morning doing an 8K coastal trek, following the ocean's line, and checking out all the secluded bays. We even stumbled on a nude beach (the first of many we've run into in Australia), full of old men, sauntering around without a care for the toll nature has taken. The walk ended at a long stretch of beach named Sunshine Beach for the obvious reason. After emptying the sand from our shoes, we made our way to the road to find the bus. I asked directions from a local and at first he gave us just pointed up the hill, but then thought better of it and offered to run us to the bus stop. Tired and hot, we gladly accepted. He ended up driving us all the way back to our van, telling us all about the town and it has changed over time. We spent the rest of the day laying on the beach, eating carrots and reading.

Note: I ran into four girls on this trek from Fairfax. Virginia represent!

To see photos of Noosa, please click me

Byron Bay & Nimbin

We pulled in to Byron Bay and knew immediately that the rumors were true--this town was the love child of hippies and surfers and had no intention of being anything else. Young people everywhere walked around barefoot, dreaded, and mostly naked, showing off tattoos that covered their backs, arms, and bellies. It is impossible to tell locals apart from travelers--everyone is dirty, eating cheaply, and out for a good time. The small town is loaded with kebab stands, dive shops, hostels, tattoo parlors and caravan parks that back right onto the beach. With a few hours left before sunset, we spent two hours walking a flat beach of blue green water, with the Byron Bay lighthouse in view. Early the next morning, we drove out to the lighthouse, a few minutes from where we slept, and greeted the sunrise at Australia's most easternly point. After some more sleep, we went to visit one of Byron's parents--Nimbin, the motherly marijuana loving parent of the pair.

An hour or so inland, Nimbin is set far back down country roads. Just minutes after you leave the coast, you feel like you are in rural Pennsylvania--cows line the roads, green is the predominant color, and cell service is lost. We followed winding roads to Minyon Falls, a mildly impressive falls that took us through tiny towns and further confused our way to Nimbin. Coming from the Falls, finding Nimbin was a challenge considering signs pointed in both directions for the same town. Confusing in the least. We made it there in time to see that the late 1960's still lived a healthy existence in this village town--indeed, it was the same people who lived through that great age of Aquarius that still inhabited the streets of Nimbin. No matter whether they were fifteen or fifty, their offering was the same: marijuana cookies, joints, brownies, hash. They whispered after you, discreetly selling their wares, yet they showed no fear. The main street was full of organic fruit, hemp clothing, and locals spilling out of the only pub in town, as King Farook played their best jam band jams. Women in their sixties swirled in head-to -toe tie-die. Long haired men with babies on their hip and beers in their hand nodded their head with the rest of the folks. The Irishman in charge of our caravan park told us to check out whenever--things were lax here. To say the least...

To see photos of Byron Bay, please click me

Parks a Plenty

The next few days were mostly spent on the road with stops at Blackbutt Reserve in Newcastle, a park boasting walks among gum trees, wild turkeys and peacocks, kangaroos and emus--a truly exciting thing to see all these folks in the wild, just walking around, doing their business. We slept in Taree and Coffs Harbor along the way, each caravan park with its own charms. We finally reached Byron Bay after stops in Solitary Islands Marine Park and Cape Byron Marine Park in Ballina, where the blue green ocean crashed up against gorgeous rocks. It seemed that each beach was more beautiful than the next, pristine and primitive, the way the coast must have looked to the first person who had the honor to lay eyes on it.

A quick note about National Parks and Marine Reserves in OZ: They are everywhere. Seriously. If there are some trees, water falling, coastline, or the possibility to see wildlife or marine life, the Aussies plunk down a few benches and a BBQ and call it a park. It is both and amazing and overwhelming feature of this great country. You pass signs for national parks and reserves more often than you pass rest stops, and while some are well known, others are less traveled and often more beautiful. As a traveler with limited time, you wish you could stop at each and every one, but alas fuel is too expensive and a life time may still be too short to take in all the beauty that Australia has to offer. And we have not even left the east coast yet!

To see photos of Newcastle, Taree, Port Macquarie & Coffs Harbor, please click me

Stairway to Heaven

Our first destination after Sydney was the Blue Mountains. We found a caravan park in Katoomba, a hip little town bordering the Mountains, and settled in for our first night in the van. The sun faded around eight and the cold set in--cold like fleece jacket, sleeping bag, hat, socks, still shivering, cold. Morning was crisp--after some hot coffee, omelets, yogurt, we set off on foot to Katoomba's Great Round Walk. The Walk was four hours of lookouts onto gorges, stunning waterfalls, forests hued in blue, all at the cost of 2,000 stairs...986 down and 988 up. Yes, we counted. We saw the famed Three Sisters, jutting out over the valley, a monument to the aboriginal legend that three women were locked inside the stone, sealed in an eternal search for love.

On our way, we met Koos and Remon, a a blond and brunette duo from the Netherlands, coming to the end of a two month journey. After they took the rail up and out of the gorge and we climbed, step by step, we reunited at the caravan park for hot drinks and dinner. We spent day two in the jungles and waterfalls of Blackheath. Whereas the Great Round Walk was full of people, this trek was harder, less traveled, and more beautiful. We visited a number of lookouts--Govett's Leap, Pulpit Rock, and Wentworth--and reveled in the almost empty jungle like playground of the walk. The trees were unbelievably tall and everything was the green that says it sees water ever day. Little ponds were scattered throughout and fish, iguanas and little crabs made the trek with us. Each day's end finds us in the caravan park with a hot cup of coffee, reclining in our chairs. The four of us sat around til after dark, swapping stories, recipes, and recommendations about where to go and where to skip. After a quick breakfast the next morning, our new Dutch friends headed south and we took the road north.

To see photos of the Blue Mountains, please click me

Stop. Revive. Survive.

In order to pick up the van, we took Sydney's city rail, a well-signed, double decker metro system that seems convenient and relevant, stopping in all areas of the city. Finding the van shop was considerably less easy that navigating the metro, however. The shop, once we found it, appeared inauspicious at least and run down at best. After a lengthy conversation with the Irish mechanic and many trips the free table (strainer, atlas, thermos, can opener, salt, cutting board--i loved the free table), we set out. It sounds like a straight forward endeavor and indeed it was, but we were driving on the left instead of the right.

Oded took the reins first, navigating the bus lanes and turn signs of central Sydney. Left turn into the left lane and right turn into the far lane, windshield wipers where the turn signal should be, left around the rotaries--insanity. Slow and steady wins this race, we concluded, and now that we both have a few long drives under our belts, we are feeling better. Our instincts are still to drive like we are on the road in the States or Israel, but day by day we are becoming lefties.

One thing we noticed quickly is that Australia is serious about safe driving--about every 10 meters there is a sign asking you"how fast are you going?", reminding you of the speed limit, or the favorite, "Stop. Revive. Survive"--perhaps a way to make sure you stay awake behind the wheel, perhaps a strategy to get you to spend time in their fuel stations. And what a place to spend time--the shops at the fuel stations usually include a mini cafe, fresh pastries, coffee, a natural foods aisle, and ice cream galore. Revive indeed.

First stop, Sydney

Despite spending three days in Sydney, we only spent one day actually exploring past the rental avenue of Kings Cross, but with a little looking, we easily found our way to the main show. Just a quick walk from our hostel and we were strolling through Sydney's Botanical Gardens--a huge green space full of birds, ponds, and beautiful trees. The Gardens led straight to the Circular Quay, the Sydney Opera House, and the Harbour Bridge. It was a Sunday and Sydney was outside--walking, jogging, picnicking, meeting for coffee, ice cream , lunch before the opera. The white waves that form the seashell that is the Opera House gleamed in the afternoon sun, showing off each tile and the craftsmanship that went into erecting the massive structure. Along with the Harbour Bridge, the entire view makes it hard not to list Sydney among the world's most beautiful cities. It is reminiscent of Vancouver, San Francisco and even Seattle and the mellowness of the city also matches the feeling of the Pacific Northwest. By sunset we were on the roof of our hostel, barbecuing with Canadians, Kiwis, and even an old timer from the States. Although we left Sydney quickly for the mountains west of Sydney, we'll be back in January.

To see photos of Sydney, please click me

Deluxe Astro Boy II

Oded and I landed in Sydney early on a Saturday morning, fifteen minutes apart on separate flights. We caught a free ride to our hostel in Kings Cross and quickly settled into a few hours of sleep to regulate the jet lag. By noon, we were in and out of car stores, collecting information on buying and renting vans to take us around Australia. Because we are here for OZ's summer and holiday season, all the prices are jacked up beyond what we could have imagined. We emailed, called, looked into relocations, and finally settled on a Wicked camper van, complete with a "kitchen" (pump sink, gas burner, pots, pans, plates, bowls, utensils), chairs, table, and a large area that serves as benches by day and a bed by night. The van itself is automatic and has air con--I am not sure I would survive without either.

The outside of the van is covered in a graffiti version of Astro Boy, a cartoon or character that I am not familiar with. The back of the van proudly states, "We are going into outer space. Next stop..." Please insert the appropriate planet. Here's a hint: It's not Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Saturn, Neptune or Pluto. Classy. This is how I roll...

Opposite Day

In comparison to the last two months, it is like living opposite day over and over again. Remember in elementary school or on long car rides when everything that was normal became opposite? When the sky was green and the grass was blue and school was fun and sleepovers were dreaded? That is what my first day in Australia felt like--like someone declared opposite day somewhere between my takeoff from Bangkok and my landing in Sydney.

Whereas Southeast Asia was long bus rides, private guesthouses, and eating every meal out, Australia is camper vans, crowded dorm rooms, and super market meals made on one gas burner. Southeast Asia was dirty, inexpensive and out to make a buck off the unknowing wanderer at each turn. Australia is clean, expensive and makes no apologies for asking Western prices for Western goods.

The difference in travel styles is profound--we are in control of each step, each turn, each meal. There is much freedom in this kind of traveling, a freedom that will increase when we master driving on the left, buy a few CDs to conquer the bad reception and minimal radio stations, and figure out a cooling system for the ever important dairy items, but at times we definitely miss fresh beer for 30 cents and meals for two dollars. Instead, we have good Australian wine and Tim Tams, clean rest stops with flush toilets, hot showers, and meals made without the southeast Asian spice otherwise known as live ants. I suppose no radio isn't so bad afterall.

The Half Circle

I think the sky is bigger here--a startling blue expanse punctured with puffy, perfect clouds that seem to surround the horizon on all sides. The sun, seemingly closer, rises faster to greet the day and slinks away just as quickly when darkness falls.

Australia is amazing. Not only is the landscape breathtaking, but the towns and cities are clean, well-planned and welcoming. For a country swallowed by England as a means to empty out her jails, Australia is full of the nicest people as a whole that I have yet to come across. If they think you're lost, the pull over to see if you need help. If you are standing on a beautiful beach, they offer to take your photo before you ask. They recommend their favorite national park while waiting in line and they always greet you and leave you with warm tidings, usually including the word mate.

We have been in OZ not even ten days but have worked our way from Sydney to the Blue Mountains and up the east coast to Newcastle, Port Macquarie and Taree. In the north coast of New South Wales, we dropped into Byron Bay, Nimbin and crossed through Tweed Heads and Surfers Paradise on the southern border of Queensland, known for huge waves and an even bigger surfer culture. In the next 60 days we hope to do what is called the Half Circle and follow the coast north to Cairns and West to Darwin, south to Alice Springs and Ayres Rocks, and then follow the Great Ocean Road from Adelaide to Melbourne before returning to Sydney.

Something More

The ghost of parties past runs rampant through the alleys and beaches of Koh Phangan. If Koh Tao is known for diving and early bed times, Koh Phangan is her evil, tie-dyed, tranced out step sister. Though the island was dead while we were there, one does not have to look hard to see the traces of what was and what will be again when the moon grows full later in the month. Started in 1987 as a birthday party and continued on month after month, Koh Phangan, like Goa in India, became home to the wandering fire throwing barefoot children that stumble into South East Asia in search of something more. And this island is set up to receive, full of guest houses, tattoo parlors, and shops bursting with island wear and liquor. The sunlight hours are usually meant for laying on the sand, sleeping off last night's party, and filling yourself full of fruit shakes and fried rice. When the sun goes down, the beach opens for business. Shacks offering buckets full of the alcohol and mixer of your choice line the sand, only to be interrupted by sound systems and DJ boothes. At its height, 30,000 cram the beach dancing, drinking, melting into the music. Trim Thai men twist fire sticks, fearlessly tossing them behind their backs for no more than a whoop from the crowd. When the crowd tires of this spectacle, they set up limbo, every kid's favorite challenge. But alas this limbo stick is on fire and only the drunk or brave dare to bend their bodies below the leaping flames. During the hours when you're not sure whether to sleep, drink, or dance, most local restaurants show daily movies or reruns of Friends and Family Guy.

Since the moon is currently waning before it will wax once again, the island is mellow. Games of beach volleyball still take place every afternoon and the snorkling is amazing if you wake early enough. The water is crystal clear and the days hot as the island waits for the moon.

To see photos of Koh Phangan, please click me

Charlie & The Chocolate Factory

We left Bangkok on a night bus that took us south over many hours. As the sun rose, we boarded a boat to Koh Tao, an island known for diving and partying. By ten am, our journey had landed us again on land but for ten days cement became sand and highways became ocean. We piled into the bed of a pick-up truck and crawled down the beach to the dive resort that would be home for the next four nights.

Ever since I first saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, there are two things that I have always wanted to try in real life. First, I have always wanted fruit embossed wallpaper that tastes like whatever fruit you lick--genius. And the second scene I have wanted to reenact is the one in which Charlie and his uncle, in a moment of conscious rebelliousness, sneak off to sip the unknown liquid in the forbidden room, for in that room they discover a liquid that makes them rise. They sip and stare at each other in disbelief that the wonderful Willy Wonka has created something that does nothing. But within moments they begin to rise and the fun begins. Their adventure comes to a quick halt, though, as they near a fan that threatens to ruin their time. As they near their dangerous demise, they begin to burp and slowly, slowly the drift back down, their breath controlling their descent. This is what I thought of the first time I tipped over backwards off a boat and into an ocean where my breath would control me.

My dive course started just a few hours after we arrived. My instructor was an impossibly hot Swedish girl, dressed in a bikini and a tan. My class was a mix of of Israelis, a pair of Scots, a Dutch guy, a Brit and me the lonely American. We watched many videos, took quizzes, learned about the equipment, buoyancy and of course about the importance of breath. Our first dive was in the pool but by the third day we were suited up to dive in the ocean. It is an insanely surreal experience to jump from a boat, far from land, and knowingly sink yourself twelve meters under water, even strapping weights to your body to make sure you stay down. But alas this whole rig of oxygen and gauges and respirators proves its worth and you breathe underwater. You actually breathe underwater. You breathe as fish swim past and reefs live below. We sat in a circle on the bottom of the ocean and passed test after test--clearing our masks, replacing our respirators, and even following a compass out and back.

On the third of fourth dives in two days, we dove to eighteen meters, the max depth for an open water diver. We dove as a group but were close to many other divers, including Oded, who is an advanced diver and can go to thirty meters. As we neared sixteen meters, I saw a diver not from my group raise his palm with his thumb pressed against his forehead, almost as if he was going to give someone a high-five. We had learned a number of underwater signs over the course, but this one was clear to divers and non-divers alike--SHARK. Five meters ahead of me a bull shark shimmied its way through the water. It was two meters in length and an amazing sight. We also saw clown fish, groupers, and sting rays. With my fourth dive done, I am officially a certified open water diver. Great Barrier Reef, here I come!

As an island, Koh Tao is almost all divers and dive resorts and friends come easily here. We met a Norwegian duo--Martin and Horvald--and I immediately took to Martin. It may have been his jolly nature or his good stories but the cherry red Red Sox hat he donned may also have had something to do with it. We spent a night out with the two of them and two other Norwegian girls, fresh from high school and on an around the world jaunt. I am not sure how it came up but the two girls shared a confirmed Norwegian tradition that sounds like something to see--in the month of May in Norway, all graduating seniors are tasked with not only getting drunk but performing silly tasks that garner badges for them to tack onto even sillier hats that they are required to wear. For example, kiss a policemen and get a police patch. Throughout the month, they sleep in parks, rotaries, friend's backyards. They wear uniforms based on what they studied and apparently laundry is forbidden for the duration of the festivities. After seventeen days, exams commence and this class of Norwegians join the ranks of the country's adults--it's like a Bar Mitzvah on acid minus the Torah portion. We left Koh Tao on a speed boat, having made many new friends and loads of promises to visit and host and dive again soon.

To see photos of Koh Tao, please click me

Lady Boy Town

The plane to Bangkok was forty percent full of Israelis--a truly crazy thing. When you ask locals in Laos, India or Thailand how many people there are in Israel, they say somewhere between fifty to one hundred million. For a country of seven million respectively, they travel a lot. A short plane ride and a few new friends later, we all made our way to the Khao San Road, a vibrating hot mess that is home to all who backpack through Thailand and the rest of South East Asia. Packed with pad thai stands, t-shirt sellers, and young Thai boys who pull off hot pants better than most girls I know, the Khao San Road has all of the comforts of home. All night 7-11s, tailors galore, and every bit of food you could ever crave from calzones to Chunky Monkey. Less of a party than a passing through point, most people look as though they just peeled themselves off the beach. Braided hair and bikini tops pass as uniform here and Hebrew is to be heard everywhere, especially from the stall owners. Food is cheap, accommodation is decent, and there is everything to buy if you are in the market. Aside from the Grand Palace and an art museum, it is not a place to stay too long. It is like a zoo--at first you are amazed to see all the kids out in the wild but as the sun sets, the novelty fades as well. To the islands we go...


To see photos of Bangkok, please click me