In the Wild

Now I am sitting in an old bus by the Edward River, near Pormpuraaw on the west coast of Cape York. As the day gets warmer, there will most likely be a crocodile or two lounging around on the opposite bank. I am waiting to watch one catch one of the millions of birds that also hang out on the riverbank – shags hanging our their wings to dry mostly, but also exotic long-legged waterbirds and many other species. There is a cockatoo tree across the river, populated by a noisy bunch who periodically all scream out of the tree, do a few loops of the river and then all swoop home to settle back in on their branches. I wish I had my Simpson & Day bird book here…I also wish I had a good book on the flora and fauna of Cape York. The bush is rich, despite the sandy salty soil – and I recently read that the Cape is being considered for World Heritage listing. It is certainly a wild and beautiful place.

Sunrises over the river are mellow and golden, bringing warmth and depth to the colours of the two fishing boats moored just 20 metres away from my bus. The highlight of my days are the sunsets though, brilliant colours strewn across the sky and across the endless tidal flats, catching little pools in luminous flashes of pink and orange. There are always birds there too, great flocks of geese, pelicans and wading birds all ready to startle at my approach and make the perfect photo as they arc across the sky.

Down on the beach I also practise my singing exercises, gratefully copied onto my mp3 player from the cds in the back of the most excellent book I found for $4 in the opshop. I can really let go here and join my spirit to the endless sky and sea – it’s the most amazing feeling. I can imagine how it must be for singers performing live for thousands of people – it’s possible that the birds appreciate my efforts, but it really doesn’t matter! It gives me the greatest satisfaction I’ve known for a while.

Most creatures are here for the fish though – great huge king salmon, queenfish and barramundi, which are my daily diet. Can never get too much fresh fish …(sorry Graeme!) And neither can the huge numbers of hawks and ospreys hovering overhead all day, seeking out the fish carcasses that remain after filleting. Enough food is thrown out each day to keep quite a few crocodiles and an army of eagles happy for weeks. Wild nature is so bountiful, it makes me marvel at how incredibly rich and plentiful food would have been in this country before the arrival of Captain Cook and the industrial revolution changed our world forever. The beach here is strewn with more shells than I have ever seen anywhere else, a reminder of the riches beneath the sea.

Speaking of CC, I watched as Venus traipsed across the sun yesterday, that tiny little speck that is I think about the same size as our earth. Kath and I got excited and bought a box of 50 eclipse shades to share around for this event and for the solar eclipse in November this year. So I saw the wee little black dot as it slowly pursued its endless path. I love these celestial events for keeping it all in perspective. I love the big, big skies here and in the desert too – it is so special and so healing after spending so much time in the confines of my beloved home valley, which can be a bit narrow at times.

I am supposed to be here to tutor a little 6 year-old boy, which I did last week – but he and his mum have gone off to a funeral and I am left with plenty of time on my hands to settle in and grok this place. I have had two job interviews on the phone this week too, both of which made me feel like an intelligent human being with something to offer – which I enjoyed a lot. It has been hard at times to find deep equanimity and self-confidence this year, after being laid very low with a bout of Shingles and an ongoing problem with bursitis in my hip – and not finding work or even being offered an interview. I know all these things are just part of my learning and I try to be patient and accept that all is as it should be, but it is nice to be noticed and appreciated – and if am not offered those jobs, that is probably fine, because I am also quite looking forward to going home and being able to live in my little house and be active in my community again, once Elvis has her house built and I can reclaim mine. Before I forget what its like to have a home and a community!

Though I have to say I am enjoying very much having my own space here and the people are friendly and accepting. Not to mention the poor lonely pig whose mate became bacon a few days ago and who is now following me everywhere, even to the beach – and I don’t think it is just for food. Even though that pig lives for food and spends most of its time working out new ways to break into the house and consume whatever of the stores it can. It won’t be long before it is bacon too. I am most impressed with my host Cathy’s ability to shoot a pig, clear fishing nets, gut and fillet fish all day and still be a very sweet and loving mum.

Tyrone, the little boy that I am tutoring, is sweet too – possibly a wee bit dyslexic I think, so I am researching kinesiology Brain Gym exercises ...we do lessons down on the beach, beautiful. The curriculum for Year One is a bit daunting – a huge amount of work is expected of the kids. Writing in the sand and using shells for maths, seems to suit both of us.

This place is really run by the animals though. As well as the pig, there is a silly cat who spends her days climbing up onto the roof and then sliding down the shademesh to land with a thud on the next roof, before racing down, around the house a few times in a manic spree and then up the nearest tree and onto the roof again. If she would also keep off the kitchen benches and leave the food alone, I could like her better – but it’s not that sort of establishment. We are living rough here and hygiene is low in the priorities. Which doesn’t bother the troop of brown, black and speckled white chooks, with their two roosters who compete to be first up every morning, or the eight guinea fowl, the two turkeys, the lone duck, or the two dogs who are actually quite good company and at least don’t seem to poo all over the yard. The animals all tend to hang around the kitchen window, waiting for scraps to come their way – I have watched a whole chook family: rooster, hen and baby all perched high on the gas bottles, watching me with their beady eyes as I wash the dishes. This is my self-appointed role, the best I can do to satisfy my urge for some semblance of suburbia in the wilds. When I go back to Cairns, I don’t want to suffer too much shock at the new kitchen in the townhouse that Kath and I have rented in Holloways Beach. If the flight path wasn’t so close…ah, but that’s another story.

Anyways, I can save a bit living here – and have an offer from Cathy to stay on for another few months. All the illness I’ve had this year has made me question what I am doing looking for fulltime work. Being up here this winter is mostly just to escape living in a caravan through a cold wet winter. (And enjoying the beach, something you don’t get much of in the valley.) I really just want to go home when it gets a bit warmer, have a great big sixtieth birthday party and get back into being part of my own community. Maybe my singing will have improved enough from all the practice that I will feel bold enough to get into some performance. The celebration of 40 years since the Aquarius Festival and the foundation of Tuntable are worth working for, even if its unpaid. And the encroaching menace of Coal Seam Gas needs everyone’s attention.  So I am thinking to take up Cathy’s offer and only stay up here till September. That gives me three months to make the most of it!

Travelling Days - 2011

 






 And then there was Granada. A few days with Billie, being introduced to the tourist delights of the quaint cobbled streets of the Albaicin and to the yummiest, cheapest gelato, in more varieties than I could ever imagine – heavenly! Spanish manners and buses and endless throngs of tourists wending their way up and down the Albaicin – the old city from the days when the Moors ruled Spain. They held out against the Christians longer than anywhere else here and left a legacy of exquisite architecture.

When Hannah came back from Berlin, we spent three weeks together while she packed up her life in Spain ready to head off to California. The highlight for me was going to the Alpujarra for three days.  High up in the mountains of the Sierra Nevada, we stayed in a village almost empty of tourists and could walk along mountain trails while stuffing ourselves with wild figs and grapes – the Mediterranean is a food bowl overflowing with delights. I hardly heard a bird sing, or saw any native animals, but there is food for humans everywhere. There is also water everywhere, one of the attractions of the area for the Moors who delighted in its abundance. Water cisterns through Granada and in the countryside are fantastic for cooling off and drinking.

The gypsy barrio of Sacramonte was my favourite place, whitewashed cave houses dotting the hillside – little front doors off the steep cobbled laneways, opening to reveal cool little houses dug out of the hillside. The doors of Spain are worthy of an entire book, there is nowhere near enough room here except to say they are mindboggling. Many of them in the Albaicin were made huge and thick enough to keep invaders out - and big enough to herd the horses and animals inside for the winter. I could see why Tara took a million photos of them. Anyway, the cave houses spread out in a scatter across the hillside, getting sparser as you climb up the dry, rocky outcrops and ending in beautiful quiet bush, from where the beauty of the city and of the Alhambra is best enjoyed at sunset. I went up there as much as I could – and treated myself to an early morning birthday walk along the hills to the Abbadia del Sacromonte, where fascinating ancient crypts and relics of martyrs were revealed.

I could have stayed in Billie’s friend’s cave overnight, but I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Hannah – so just enjoyed watching part of the gypsy fiesta one evening. Gazing down at some of the locals displaying their flamenco dancing, singing and guitar was absolutely magical. The nights were warm and balmy and a walk through the barrio, or even the Albaicin, always found me some figs or grapes. I learnt to stay awake a little longer in the evening, it’s compulsory in Spain – in lieu of starving, I even learnt to drink shandies in order to be able to partake of tapas in the many little bars. There was music everywhere, lots of buskers and some great flamenco performances.

It was great to watch Hannah busking in the little plazas of the Albaicin, she is wonderfully alive and funny and beautiful and singing really well, people loved it – especially the locals who have come to know her. My favourite place to watch her was near the Mirador San Nicolas, where lots of people come to gaze at the Alhambra – but I liked it best for the gelato, which was the bees knees. The story is that the sultans of old sent their fastest riders to the snow-covered mountains of the Sierra Nevada by night, to return with buckets of fresh snow – which was then covered in sweet syrup…so Granada has a long tradition to keep up.

And after Granada there was South-East Asia, Vietnam and Laos. Met some of the loveliest people on earth there and had some amazing adventures. My mate Brendan joined me for the 6 weeks and we traversed a lot of country together. We landed first in Hanoi where we stayed in the Harmony Hotel on the exquisitely smelly Street of Herbal Medicine – and were treated so well by the lovely staff. It was a great introduction to the country.

I did a memorial pilgrimage to Uncle Ho’s mausoleum and even though it was closed it was an amazing feeling to be there and to be there with all the other pilgrims. Outside was also a huge quiet space, free of motorcycles and peaceful – rare in the busy city, which is totally chockers with motorbikes, trucks, pushbikes, buses and cars. We kind of enjoyed dodging traffic and exploring the myriad shopping-themed streets of the Old Town (if you want to buy a pot, you go to the street where all the pot shops are). Then a cyclone threatened to derail not just our planned trip to Halong Bay but also take the fun out of sloshing through filthy crowded streets in the rain – so we caught a plane to Luang Prabang in Laos and it was the best move we could have made.

We landed in Heaven. It took a bit of hunting to find the cheapest and best accommodation but I finally found the Nam Sok III and we stayed there for the best part of three weeks. It made a great base to explore some of the 32 Buddhist temples in this small fairytale city, or to venture out further on rented pushbikes. I ventured a little too far one day in a misguided search for elephants that landed me in the local hospital with concussion, a blue thumb and some stitches in my face and hand. Brendan looked after me with great care, bringing fresh coconuts for juice every morning and yummy food from the many great little restaurants around. After a few days in bed I was well enough to potter around the streets without getting dizzy and to enjoy sitting by the Mekong in a café under shady trees – our favourite spot for internetting.

To be continued….

Beautiful Barcelona

I have to start writing my blog again: facebook just isn't enough for all the thoughts, images and experience that travelling inspires.I really enjoyed my brief stay in Kuala Lumpur on the way over, the sights sounds and smells of Asia always feel like home – but four days ago, when I left there, feels like an eternity away so I am going to journal my travels as they happen before it all disappears into the next chapter.

SO here I am now in beautiful Barcelona, a place so full of history and ARCHITECTURE! There must be some massive quarries here, because the city is huge. Yes, this must be a very rocky place: all the thousands of buildings are built from local stone - huge cathedrals, medieval palaces, government buildings, unbelievable ancient roman walls - all made from stone. Incredibly beautiful city, Gaudi is but a part of it... the more I see, the more I understand the influences on his work.. There are high rise apartments everywhere: right up to the beach, fronting the cathedrals, along medieval lanes ...not a bungalow to be seen. It's fantastic the way that history merges with the present everywhere – cafes and squares full of people (mostly tourists!) where Roman chariots once rolled by, people drinking coffee where Franco's bombs once killed children. These buildings are so old, wherever the rendering is worn you can see patched and repatched stonework that has survived for centuries. One corner of a building was worn and scraped, most likely by chariots repeatedly driven at speed. It all combines to give a sense of enduring culture that is very powerful. 

I have had the amazing good fortune to be staying with my beautiful generous couchsurfing host, Elena, who loves her city and loves sharing it. Ever since I made contact with her I have felt at home here. She is so welcoming and friendly and so keen to show me her beautiful city. It might be better if the neighbours weren't so noisy at night (it's an apartment building with a big ventilation well in the centre that everyone's bedroom windows open onto, so it's a bit like sleeping with 50 people!), but I am coping well and really enjoying it despite feeling a little jetlagged...

It is also extremely HOT! I have been catching the metro everywhere and the winds that blow down the metro stairs from above are really welcome. Shops are airconditioned but houses not - all these highrise flats everywhere, with little tiny balconies. This district is called Gracia, was once a village but now part of Barcelona city. Gaudi's PArc Nuell is just up the hill, a short walk to fantasy. I love it - imaginative architecture that uses rockwork to create beautiful organic spaces. And the famed gingerbread house buildings with rounded corners and fantastic shapes and mosaics are just lovely. I can't really afford to go inside but am enjoying the outsides - I keep thinking of Gaudi as an exterior (rather than interior) decorator – although I know they will be equally beautiful and exotic within. 

Elena has taken me to see the old walled original town, with parts of the original Roman wall intact and even more parts that have been incorporated into medieval buildings - narrow cobbled winding streets full of magic, fascinating little shops and tourists! And buskers, there is entertainment everywhere. Opera in the .street and even a drunk interrupting to make it feel like home...

Yesterday I went to the market and just now finished off the glorious fresh figs and strawberries I bought there - the stalls are fantastic, they take so much trouble to make their displays absolute works of art - you can't just pick the fruit you want because it would interrupt their creations! There was every delectable imaginable and I brought home salmon to cook for our dinner, which Elena appreciated. She is so lovely and so keen to practise her English because she is going to England for a months holiday soon. It is amazing to feel so welcomed by a stranger - we get on really well and I feel absolutely at home here. It is a climb up 5 flights of stairs to her flat, great exercise too! Her block of flats is on the corner of Carrer Providencia and Carrer Alegre de Dalt - providence and happiness in the village of Grace, very apt!

Many of the museums in Barca are free Sundays after 3 pm - Elena says most of the good Picassos are all over the world, but I went to the Picasso museum anyway and didn't regret it, nor even the 45 minute queue in the muggy heat. The museum covers his whole life and works, fascinating to see how his skills developed and changed from a very young age.

It was a museum sort of day – I peeked at the pre-Columbian South American museum, so validating of their culture – modern art has so much in common with Indigenous art in capturing essence. And then Elena and I went back in time to the Museum of History – unbelievable! The basement of the building has been excavated and we walked among the layers of history there – from Roman through to Gothic and Medieval – such a brilliant way to experience history. My inner archaeologist was in bliss! And my feet were verging on being in blisters, we walked so far on my last day, all over the beautiful old city.

Now I am in Granada and the next chapter begins! Nearly missed my plane, arrived after check-in, but an angel heard me and the plane was delayed three hours – magical country, this.I don't know if it's from all the praying done here, but there are certainly angels.