"Austrian, eh? Well - G'day mate! Put another shrimp on the barby!"
That line from Dumb and Dumber keeps popping into my head here in Cairns, as I hear German voices ringing out over and over all over town. It appears to be quite the destination spot for Europeans. For me though, the first time I had even heard of such a place was sitting in a bar in Venice, drunkenly studying a map the continent that I had convinced an Australian traveller to draw out for me.
Fast forward one month and I find myself in a country that I've heard of all my life (its existence, anyway), but knew absolutely nothing about. There's the ubiquitous stuff that all Americans know about: Steve Irwin, Paul Hogan, Yahoo Serious, The Bee Gees, Silver Chair, etc. Outside of that though, nothing. Before arriving here, I couldn't tell you the difference between the bush and the outback, the capital of the country (hint: its not Melbourne or Sidney), or the difference between a reef or a cay. This is a continent nearly as big as the United States and just as wide. Even as my plane started its descent into Cairns I still really didn't know what I was doing here. So imagine my utter disbelief as an infinite stretch of crystal blue water bordered by row after row of jungle covered hills came into view. I had flown for Australia, but somehow, miraculously, I was landing in Costa Rica.
A smile crept to my face and I was suddenly reminded how this trip very nearly didn't happen a mere 24 hours earlier. I had spent the last week at my parents house for Christmas, shuttling between Seattle and Tacoma. My sister and her boyfriend were also in town, so the research I had honestly meant to put into the trip sat largely ignored. On the day of my departure, my parents dutifully shuttled me to the airport and with a few hurried hugs and wishes of good luck, I presented myself at the counter for check in. A nice, still-full of holiday cheer United employee took to the task of delivering me my ticket. Then after studying my passport, her eyebrow shot up.
"Ok, can I have your visa?"
I nodded, reached into my wallet and pulled out the credit card.
"No. Mr. Rhoades, I need your visa."
She looked at me meaningfully, mentally willing my synapses into action. Soon, realization crept into my skull. I needed a visa to enter Australia. My response was succinct: "Holy shit!"
Two months of easy travelling had lulled me into thinking travel visas were only for countries ruled by despots, fascists, and monarchs. It didn't even occur to me for an instant that a place such as Australia would require one. I stood there for seconds, unable to move, staring with disbelief at nothing. Seeing my alarm, the woman said that for a $25 fee, there was a chance she could apply for one right there.
"How long will I have to wait?" I inquired. She replied that she could do it right there on the computer and would recieve an automated response. 30 of the longest seconds later, I had been approved for a visa and my trip was saved. It was a Christmas Miracle.
She looked at me reproachfully and chided, "you know, if you were going to Brazil or China you would be out of luck. Australia is the only country that allows us to apply over the computer like this."
I thankfully handed over the cash, mentally replying that if I was going to a country ruled by poverty or a country ruled by communists, of course I would have applied, but this was like needing a license to ride a bicycle. She ran off to get change. It took her nearly 15 minutes. I had my first experience with Australian oddity, where they won't let you in without a visa, but it takes longer to get change for a hundred than to be given one. Still, I was thankful and had proven that once again, I was an idiot.
The flight to Cairns would be a long, uneventful one. New Zealand Air uses a video safety presentation, which I loved as the soundtrack for it could easily double for a cheap cinemax skin flick ("Mile High Pressure" or something like that). I settled into my chair and buckled down. It would take two hours down to San Francisco, followed by a 12 hour flight to Auckland, and 5 hours still from there. By the time I had landed, 24 hours would have elapsed from when I boarded my first plane. Strangely, since the plane crosses the date line, I am one full day ahead of everyone in the states, so greetings, from the future!
It didn't take me too long to settle down at the hostel and hit the road. My destination for the first day would be to the Flecker Botanical Gardens just northwest of the city. This place was amazing, featuring a small sample of the diversity that makes up the surrounding jungles. Giant blue butterflies, spiders that look like leaves, and lushly green trees whose fruit hung down like a morning star. Birdsong rang out from everywhere as sweat poured freely out of every pour in my body. It was humid and the temperatures would top 34 degrees centigrade (over 100 degrees fahrenheit). Still, it was amazing and better still, completely unexpected. The next day I spent lounging at the Esplenade, the city's public infiniti pool, blinding any fool who dared look at my white, oh so white skin.
It only took me a day to make a few new friends here. Aussie's are a laid back lot and up here in paradise, even moreso. The whole city is built around backpackers, who are among the most friendly I had met anywhere. These travellers are a different sort - friendlier, travelling for long periods of time, and quite approachable. I haven't met a single other American here and sadly, I suspect that's also the reason why the travellers by and large seem more mature minded. I shared a room with a German couple who had the misfortune of spending the night with me, a snoring mess of a man. The next morning, they invited me to come travel with them in the camper that they had rented - if I had already gotten the chance to see the reef, I probably would have accepted. Another person I met, a lone french girl, was in town on a working visa where she would work as a fruit picker in exchange for the chance to stay here on a longer term basis. The downside of this was it would mean 10 hours per day, 6 days per week picking fruit (and this could mean watermelons or pineapples) in sweltering weather.
"I do not know how I can do it - in France I only had to work 35 hours a week!"
Other than Germans, the town is comprised by Aussies, Aboriginies, and surprisingly is a very popular vacation destination for Koreans. The fact that it is so far away from the US probably explains why you won't find too many Americans here, but one would think that the wonderfully warm December weather, beneficial exchange rate (1.5 to 1), and English speaking natives would be enough to overcome that.
The agenda for the rest of the week is wonderfully uncomplicated and relaxed. I will spend the next two days up in Cape Tribulation, one of the few spots in the world where the jungle meets the ocean. After spending a day sitting on the beach and a morning sea kayaking trip, I return to Cairns in time for New Year's Eve. The first day of 2008 will be rung in with snorkelling off the Great Barrier Reef.
Its a tough life.
