Odyssey Welcome
Welcome,Greetings new comers and regulars alike.
For those who have not visited my site before, let me explain.
This is a section of cyberspace where I can rant, voice half-baked opinions, pursue my interest of creative non-fiction and generally let people know where I am / what I am doing without sending those mass soulless emails, that no one reads and you end up deleting after three months.
The new look will include:
* Links to weird crap I find on the internet.
* Links to past editions of the Odyssey
* An updated photo page
To fill you in so far:
In May 2004 I left my home town of Perth to travel the world. You will be glad to hear that I have finally made it out of Australia.
Currently I am living here in Southern Thailand, avoiding the violence and enjoying the good life.I will be here until next year, so all those people that I have bludged accommodation from can feel free to come for a cheap holiday in "the land of smiles".
Well apologies as usual for taking so long to get my proverbial together... hopefully the new system will be easier to use and more accessible: do not hold your breath.
Take it easy
Al
Please Note:This is not intended to be a one sided dialogue. Feel free to write an email at any time if you disagree (agree, are annoyed, pleased or have a feeling at all) with the opinions or comments contained herein. Responses are more than welcome and it is reassuring to think that there might be someone out there who reads this.WARNING: This site has not spell checker and is often completed in a hurry!
February Odyssey
As always, I am sorry for the tardiness of this latest update, but you will understand that I have been a bit busy over the past couple of months.
I arrived back in Sydney after my mad mission up the north coast of Queensland. I dropped in to mooch off Lisa and Jodie, and had a good a time as always. Their hospitality I cannot praise enough. Luckily, Aunty Bridget was back from her international adventures and managed to squeeze me into her schedule. I was good to catch up. She kindly invited me out to her place in Little Hartley, just on the far side of the Blue Mountains. It’s quite a magical spot, where I could quite easily have spent the next few months. I was very impressed, but the road was calling...…this time, in a direction that I was not expecting. My sister called to let me know that she was heading down to Tasmania for your partner's sister's wedding, they were hiring a car and I would be invited to join them in their tour around the west coast. I jumped at the opportunity and jumped on a plane. Yes, I know that, I was only going to do mainland OZ and that I have been violating my rule of "no air travel" but it really is the cheapest way to get there. I made this one exception, yet again. I arrived at Hobart International Airport. The first thing that I noticed stepping off the plane and onto the tarmac was... bloody hell, I am in England. The morning temperature was similar to an Anglo summer. It is the first time that I have seen the baggage car just drive straight into the terminal and everyone scrambles to get their bags. I left it to the scrum, as I was more interested in seeing my sister and giving her a hug.
Joanna and I went for a drive around the Huon Valley, which was very similar to south-west WA in some ways, lots of giant trees and places selling woodcrafts... they have even copied our treetop walk!! These are always spectacular. That makes all three that I have done is Oz.From there Joanna, Woodie and I set out for a camping trip up the west coast of Tassie. Our first stop was to the Lake Claire / Cradle Mountain National Park: a really beautiful spot. We camped at the Lake which even had a bar/restaurant looking out over the water! Even though it was summer, it still got bloody cold at night. I think that is the farthest south I have ever been. We did a walk around the lake and through the amazing forests. There was allot of people walking from Cradle Mountain to the Lake, but I was not all that keen... next time.From there we headed off to the historic seaside town of Strahon; a nice little town with the feel of an English fishing village. Once again some amazing wood crafts and a cozy pub that we became quite familiar with.
We drove through Queenstown which is renowned for its ugly scenery. This reputation is well founded. It was a centre for mining copper and tin: the acid rain burnt away the vegetation leaving it baron. There is a story that the plants started growing back so the locals had a busy bee to pull them all out to maintain the town's image... each to their own I suppose.From there it was up to Burnie which seemed to be the home of young single mothers and large piles of woodchip... good place to stop for lunch. That night we stayed in Launceston or (as the locals call it) Loncestion or (as the sign on the way into town calls it) Inceston. Regardless, it struck me as a very nice town, the people were friendly and the beer is award winning, quite literally. Of course we went to the Cascade Brewery, did the tour and some taste testing.
For those unfamiliar, there is a fierce rivalry between the north and south in Tassie, even though you can drive from one side of island to the other in an hour and a half! Mind you, if you have to drive 50 kms in Tassie, it is considered a days outing. Another aspect of the rivalry is the beer. Boags in the south, Cascade in the north. You can see a line somewhere in the middle of the state where never the twain shall meet.
We headed back to Hobart via Richmond (another historic English style town) to check out the oldest bridge in Oz, it looked pretty old. Every town in Australia has to have a claim to fame. Incidentally while in Hobart we did do the Boags tour as well, just to be open-minded! We visited the Salamanca Markets which seem very similar to all the others around the country. This one seemed to have allot more wood work though. We stayed with Woody's sister and her husband Bruiser, who very gracious put us up. Unfortunately, it was time for Jo and Woody to head back to Perth and their day jobs. They took off and I had to hang around to wait to catch a flight. I spent the spare time investigating the Hobart Fringe Festival. I was impressed by the homegrown performances but then again tried to think of a single good band that has come out of Tasmania.... if anyone can help me out on this, it would be greatly appreciated.
Politically, Tassie is an interesting state. In Hobart you will find allot of hippy crew but outside the capital you will have trouble spotting them. It seems to be a place of great divisions. I saw allot of bumper stickers saying "NO GREENS" and graffiti saying "Greens tell lies" but it also a place that has held some of the biggest anti-logging rallies and blockades, home of the Greens and the Wilderness Society. I saw another piece of graf announcing "HOMOPHOBART" commenting on this being the last state to decriminalize homosexuality.
Unfortunately, it was time to leave, without having checked out the east coast... you have to save some things for next time. I got up at 4 am to get to the airport at 5 am for the flight that leaves at 6 am. Unfortunately, fait had other plans. Due to a chemical spill in Melbourne the previous day, flights were delayed... I spent the next seven hours at Hobart "international" airport with no money and no one that would accept my cards.
Making it back to Sydney, eventually, I imposed on Bridget’s hospitality once again and stayed at her place in Manly, which was greatly appreciated. It is a lovely house in one of the best locations, on the north shore. It was good to catch up again, spend some quality time and share some more brilliant meals. After a few days it was time for the next adventure on The Odyssey... South East Asia, but first I needed to head home, to see the loved ones, and organise some visas. I fare welled all my friends and family and Sydney, with some more great going away meals and jumped onto a plane back to Perth.....
JANUARY ODYSSEY
On the road again...
After nearly eight months on the road, I was getting a bit weary, so I decided to make a mad dash through Queensland to finish off mainland Australia. If this addition seems a concise, it is because I had a pretty crazy month that took me from Woodford to Cairns and back to Byron.
Fraser:
I bade Darcy and Noosa Farewell. Jumping on a bus I piled off at the small, pre-tourist-boom town of Rainbow Beach - so named after the coloured sands I could not find. There I organised a deal, playing off a couple of companies against one another to get a deal on touristy crap up the Qld coast. Despite my dislike for the tourist trail, when in Rome, you have to wear a toga.
The next day I was the only "ozzie" in an old Land-cruiser heading over to Fraser Island. To cut a long story short: we got bogged, the car blew up, the cooker got left behind when the car was replaced, we almost rolled it, almost crashed it, got harassed by arseholes, got rained on and fly bitten; but apart from that, had a great time.
The Island itself is or would have been beautiful. Lake McKenzie is truely amazing despite having more people on it than Bondi during a heat wave and there are some of the best examples of cool rainforest in Oz. However, the beach was doing a pretty good impression of the Mitchell Freeway during peak hour with the addition of tour buses and light aircraft.
Also, it was my understanding that this was one of the largest dingo habitats in the country. This must have been before some unattended brat taunted one of the poor dogs, got bit and bled to death. The result was the greater population of dingoes being culled off due to the public outcry. In this reporters opinion... cull negligent parents and leave the animals alone.
I was pretty shocked at the abuse of this World Heritage Listed Park, however, if the hoons want to cut up an Island with 4x4s, best they all do it in one place and leave all the others alone.
Rainbow Beach:
We returned to rainbow beach and got on the turps. At some point underage drinkers came onto the premises and started giving my French Canadian companions a hard time, not a good move. Within minutes a brawl had broken out.
Soon there were 30 angry locals pelting the YHA with bottles, bricks and chairs. With the law 1.5hrs away, I set the barmaid onto them and withdrew to watch from the balcony. The next morning the French had disappeared, soon followed by your author.
Bundaburg:
Stopped in to do the distillery tour and soon realised why I do not drink the stuff, its made of sugar and the mere fumes will clean you out.
The Town of 1770:I
shit you not, that is the name of the town. Stopped in chasing a girl (long story) but met some other good crew instead.
Airlie Beach:
This is the most despicable tourist abomination on the face of the earth. All night bars compete with expensive restaurants and cheap crap made in china, set on some of the most beautiful coast. From here I boarded my cheap-arse cruise of the Whitsunday Islands - The Tongara. As Julie would say the Whitsundays are "Just Perfect". I would advise you to go in the dry season however, and unless you are an insane, alcoholic, not on the Tongara. As you can imagine for the price, I found myself on the party boat. In the interests of group dynamics, I felt compelled to party along.
The passengers experienced the wonder of the Reef Islands in a drunken haze that could only be rivaled by that of the captain and crew. They did well regardless, preparing fine meals and allowing us to explore the islands, snorkel on the reef and swim on the magnificent Whitehaven Beach. Good times were had by all. I would like to send heaps of love and respect to you Jo-anne: Airlie Beach will never be the same. Stay in touch.
Anyway, from there I high-tailed it to:
Cairns:
I am still not sure what so many people do up in Cairns. There seems to be a lot of people eating out and allot of sugar cane around, but no industry as such apart from drinking and scalping tourists. Enough I suppose. For me it was only a stop over to:
Cape Tribulation:
I would recommend that anyone thinking of traveling around Oz, to include this rare patch of ground, however, like WA, if you all went, it would be wrecked. Not the place to go camping in the wet season I soon found out as you will spend more time sweating than sleeping. Nevertheless, it is amazing. I have never been in an area more dense with life, insects, lizards, birds and plants abound in vast numbers. The place is truely magical. Go out and sit in the rainforest for a while, feel the nature but avoid those giant spiders. I was offered a job at the jungle lodge, and I considered disappearing into the wilderness but the road was calling - back to Cairns via Port Douglas (yuppie shithole) to catch a plane to...
Brisbane:
The poor cousin of east coast cities, it is nice enough. It is more livable than Sydney, the weather is better than Melbourne however, like Adelaide, lacks urban edge. It is well planned with a nicely contained CBD (an alarming number of sex shops in the centre of town) however, it is over an hour from the coast. To compensate they have created and artificial beach next the river. Great fun for a swim at two in the morning when you have been on the piss, but the amount of chlorine makes you wonder.
The redeeming light of Briz-vegas is Fortitude Valley (The Valley to the initiated), which is the St Kilda or Northbridge of Brizzy. Here you can find great bars, China town and some great live music venues. Check out The Troubadour and Rics.
The other shining light is of course Maestoso, the band that I met at the Folkie. They very kindly showed me the edited highlights of town and invited me to act as roady during a weekend tour to Toowoomba. Having more than a little experience and always being up for a road trip I jumped in the van. We had a great time. I would have stayed longer if I did not have to meet up with Cousin Stasia in...
Byron Bay:
As discussed not my favourite place, but it was good to see my cous who was in town with little Mazzy-Rae for a Conference. I stayed at a pseudo-hippie campground aka crapground call the Arts Factory aka the Cash Factory. Spend some quality time with the fam, before making it down to...
Sydney:
…which will have to wait till next time.
Love... Al
An Odyssey Yule and New Year
What to do?
My itchy feet took me to the most easterly town in Australia: Byron Bay. The indigenous owners of the area believe that this is a place for rest and recuperation before continuing on your journey refreshed and renewed.
I found out why shortly after arriving: a campsite in town would cost you $40 p/n or $250 p/w. Needless to say I went to a park just outside of town to set camp (without paying).
The land surrounding Byron is truely beautiful - lush forest come right down to the white sand of the clear Pacific Ocean. The flora is intense, green and wondrous. The town itself would once have been a quite backwater, but, with rising land prices and yuppies trying to find places out of town to rest their weary loafers, the place has seemed to go silly.
It is also the nearest beach town to Nimbin which gives it a vaguely hippy feel. Therefore a plethora of "Wellness Centers" and "Meditation Retreats" have sprung into existence. The visitor can also enjoy such services as Thai massage, floatation tank sessions, aura photographs and colonic irrigation, all for an inflated price. However, overpriced hippie crap is not all that it has to offer: there are overpriced meals, drinks and sweatshop clothing.
An added disadvantage is the popularity of the area with tourists. The main street has become a delight to those local and international travelers who find so much money too heavy to carry around. There is a preponderance of businesses around town to help those with this terrible affliction: offering all manner of tours, surfing lessons and pricey internet access.
Maybe I am doing the place a disservice as I was there at the peak of the crazy season, but quite frankly it shat me to tears. The upsides were of course, the amazing beach and the beautiful ladies to be found both on it and around it.
One of my less fortunate experiences was to visit a Krishna Feast. I have always been fond of the Krishna’s cheap food more than their cheap beliefs (no offence intended) however, on this particular occasion I got the worst of both. Seeing an advert for said feast, I brought my empty belly along to the local scout hall with the intention of filling it up. Unfortunately, they were keen on converting me, performing lengthy chants and having me get up to dance in the name of Krishna. They were lucky I was starving or I would have been off. It turns out they own a town just north of Byron called Uki, which is a huge Krishna settlement. I was invited to join them with free camping, but this time, I thought I might give it a miss.
Yule:
In recent years, I have not been a big fan of Christian holidays, so this year I decided to celebrate the pagan holiday that the former has usurped - Yule, which is celebrated on the day of the last full moon before the end of the year (as is my understanding).
Lisa who you will remember from the last installment was wondering what to do for the holiday. She could fly home to Tasmania, to be in the bosom of her family or she could fly up to the north coast and spend the day with me. I am glad to say that she chose the latter option, as we had a great time.I hired a car and picked her up from the Ballina Airport. From there we headed up to Lennox Head and head a vegan fry-up breakfast. After lazing on the beach for a while we visited some of her friends from Canberra. Here we were welcomed into the family home just in time for desert... excellent timing. We supped on champagne overlooking the ocean from their verandah. Not wanting to impose, we soon headed off to Byron for a swim and a wander around town.
After a delightful meal, we headed off again, this time up to Nimbin where we had a teepee booked for the evening with views of the Minion Falls National Park. Delightful.The next day we wandered around town, saw some great live music, had some more wonderful food and generally just relaxed. The following day we were destined to part company yet again, but before that, we drove to Minion Falls to have a look. It truely was divine. Less can be said of the road leading us there, which was why she almost missed the flight, to return to the rigours of the classical music industry - a hard master.
I however, was left with the decision of what to do next: stay in Byron with the inflated prices, or bypass Brisbane and make a dash for the Woodford Folk Festival.
NYE and the Woodford Folk Festival:
Obviously I decided on the latter and I am well glad that I did. In addition to the accommodation expense in Byron, on NYE they were charging $100 for entry to a pub to buy a drink. Not my bag baby.
The "Folky" as it is affectionately known, is not inexpensive either, however, it is quite reasonable when you consider the value contained in your season pass.
To begin with, for those unaware: The Peoples Republic of Woodford is the biggest music and arts festival of its kind in Australia and has been going for the past 19 years in various forms. This year was the biggest so far: 130 000 people over 6 days (boxing day to NY day), 50 000 people camping, 1 500 volunteers, over 20 venues holding more than 4 000 acts. These included: Resin Dogs, The Waifs, Cat Empire, Missy Higgins, Bob Brosman, Xavier Rudd, Butterfingers and many more. There were workshops, food stalls, lectures, street theatre, their own radio station, belly dancing, Mongolian throat singing, Morris dancing, African drumming, comedy, sousaphones and well, there is just too much to put up here or I will run out of room. Check it out for yourself at: http://www.woodfordfolkfestival.com/ I strongly advise one and all to attend this festival before they die. It truely is an remarkable place with a vibe that I have yet to experience outside a pill party! Go, Get a ticket. NOW!!!
I arrived on Boxing Day, after dark, in the rain and started to look for somewhere among the crowded campsite to pitch a tent. Not an auspicious start. Here, however, I had the good fortune to meet some great people. Big shout outs to Jana, Jordan, Nathan, Camryn and Stu of the Maesoto crew: the band that I happened to set up camp next to and ended up hanging with for most of the festival and beyond; more about these guys later. Check them out at http://www.maestoso.com.au/. Also, big respect to Darcy who gave me a lift up to Noosa and opened his family home to me for a much needed hot shower and feed of fresh fruit and veg. He also gave me a brilliant tour of the swank town that it is.
Anyway, I am out of space yet again but that at least brings us to 2005. Hope you like the new look and I will look forward to catching ya soon, in person or on email.
Lots of love
Al
More Odyssey
December 2004
Alright, yes I am sorry that I have not blogged sooner and there is no real excuse. But you will be glad to hear that I am alive and well.On my arrival in Sydney I found it fast-paced, polluted, unfriendly and stressful. After spending nearly two months there I have concluded that it is fast-paced, polluted, unfriendly, stressful and expensive.
My time in Sydney, however, was great. I had the opportunity to catch up with family and friends which was long overdue.
I am very grateful to my Aunty Mary, who generously opened her home and heart to me, both of which reside in Windsor to Sydney's west. It also gave me the opportunity to spend some time with my cousin Louise in Penrith and her sister Kate. This also gave me my first meeting my second cousin Liam to whom Paul makes an enthusiastic and loving father, congratulations to them both.
While in Windsor it gave me a base from which I was able to secure a little work teaching English and doing some work for International Volunteers for Peace (see links) - Greetings to Rita, Maria and the rest of the crew, you do some fine work.
Keeping with the family, I would also like to send virtual, yet loving greetings out to my cousin Anastasia, her daughter Mazzy-Rae, Uncle Pat (Spillane) and Da, also Alana Chan and Brendon O'Keeffe.
While in Sydney I visited my Grandparent’s former home in Bonals Bay and their graves at Cooranbong. Though we hardly met, I know that they will always be with me - James and Bridget O'Keeffe.
After Windsor I rented a flat aka "roach motel" on Abercrombie Street in Redfern. This gave me a chance to spend some time with Pat McEnry at the Shannon Hotel: a great place for fine food, live music and the "craic". If you are in town you should check it out.In addition it allowed me to investigate the social conditions at "The Block" where the riots had occurred not long before my arrival. It is a strange situation and like no other that I have seen in Australia: a city suburb that has been returned to its traditional owners; since then there seems to be little development. I had a walk down the main street and all heads turned to look. I smiled, kept walking, stopped for a chat and found some really genuine people. There are others that I have met who have had less positive experiences in the area. However, it will be interesting to see how long it lasts before it succumbs to the pull of gentrification that has consumed the rest of the city. Till then it still appears to be a no go area for both police and the rest of the population.It is also from Redfern that I bid my beloved Michelle farewell. It is impossible to get a car registered in NSW, so I put up a notice for a free car. To my surprise someone stole the bluebird and it turned up in Cronulla, where it was turned over to a local wreckers. May she rest in piece(s).
After Redfern, I was made the welcome guest of my eternal friend, Lisa who put me up (and put up with me) in her flat above a hock-shop on Parramatta Road in the Italian district of Lieckhart - where great coffee and food is enjoyed by all. I also helped her move house to Petersham which was allot less noisy.
Through this marvellous human I was able to score free tickets to the ballet at a little venue known as the Sydney Opera House: an interesting show.
I was escorted by our family friend from Perth Chrystelle who has been carving a name for herself in the competitive world of publishing here in “the big smoke”.
We also had the opportunity to visit the Newtown Festival, which for a community fete, felt more like the big day out. I have a great fondness for Newtown as it seems to be the funkiest place to be in Syd-vegas. This should be the case until the yuppies come in, buy up the property and ruin it for everyone. It reminded me of Brunswick St. or St Kilda in Melbs.
Also had a chance to catch up with my good friend Anna from Melbs who was just up visiting, Swiss Julie and Jules of international "Panics" fame. The new tunes are sounding good dudes!
In retrospect I found Sydney a very suburban city despite its size and cosmopolitan flavour. It seems to be the urban Australia that I have experienced elsewhere, just intensified. I am sure that if you came from New York or London it would seem like a really laid back beautiful city. However, the waste management system appears to be non existent, with raw sewage being pumped into the ocean. There also seems very poor water management. For this and other reasons, it was time to move.
I caught a train to the Blue Mountains to relive a trip made with my brother many years ago. On arrival, it was obvious that the place had changed and not for the better. Tour buses arrived every ten minutes. Ah well. The only thing that is constant is change!
I caught a lift with Brad the Kiwi and Yonaton the Israeli up the north coast. We passed through Newcastle, Port Macquarrie and Coffs Harbour all of which I did not find all that impressive. There are however some marvellous secluded beached in between. After a couple of days we arrived in the hippie nucleus of Nimbin. Here we stopped for a couple of days to smoke up the atmosphere... I mean soak up, soak up the atmosphere. It is a very interesting town. Its beginnings, as we know it today, lay in the Aquarius Festival of 1972. After this the alternative types moved in and "dropped out" of mainstream society to start a new life living closer to the land. There they still reside.
I had the great fortune of going out the commune belonging to the "Rainbow People" These guys have a huge property with 200 people, their own school, newspaper and a cafe in town. It was interesting speaking to one of the ol' blokes who had been there since the beginning and listening to the stories. It is definitely hard work to live as independently as they do.
It was not long before the feet got itchy again, but that is another story.
Till next time, peace and love
Will see you on the other side.
Al
November 2004
The final thing that I did in Melbourne was the Grand Final. Not by design but I just happened to be in town. I thought I might wander in and watch the game at a pub. Due to it being the first final between two non Victorian teams, it seemed like a pretty subdued day. Also, due to a severe hangover, for reasons that I shall not go into, I left the pub at quarter time to get a feed. Wandering down Flinders Street and ordering some Italian, I noticed a large group of punks marching in the opposite direction. Then a police car zoomed up beside them and two of Victoria’s finest jumped out. Grabbing the digi-cam, I thought I might join the "camcorder truth jihad" (see Jello Biafra).
The Police grabbed one of the punks and started hauling him to the van. The rest of the punks grabbed onto their mate to prevent him being taken away. Then the pepper spray came out and was applied liberally. Even at four or five metres away, the stuff makes you back up, which I did. Then the trusty extenda-battons made an appearance. The tension built as more police arrived, and undercover cars.
One cuntstable did not appreciate his photo being taken and pushed me away raising his baton. By this stage the commercial TV were in attendance and they started taking a more low key approach as ambulances arrived and the punks licked their wounds. Apparently it was their annual pub crawl and this was standard practice. It turned out to be more exciting than the football. When I made my complaint at the police station, the one bloke being arrested was punching people indiscriminately. Still it did not really seem like community based policing to me and reinforced stereotypes of Victorian coppers harking back to the days of Rodger Rodgerson.
Shortly after I left Melbs and headed to the Snowy Mountains. Here I had a few days repose in the bush with no one around, camping next to the Snowy River, reading and enjoying the solitude of the bush after the hustle and bustle of the city: tranquil, serine, paradise, at the end of a dirt road hugging the side of a mountain.
Having eaten all my provisions, I headed back out and toward the Australian Alps. The road was a mountain pass and rarely got out of third, until I reached a stretch of road that was pure bog, cut to bits by four wheel drives and worsened by recent rains. There was only one thing for it... attack it at full pelt and hope that someone came along soon if I got bogged (not likely as I had not seen anyone in over a week). I clocked nearly a hundred as I hit the dirt. Dropping back a gear the car slipped to the left, opposite locking the wheel we headed out to the right... travelling virtually sideways, wheels touching the edge of the cliff, we swung back the other way... then as we dropped to second, rooster tails from the back wheels.... we hit solid road, the car righted itself "Whaaaaahooooo" me and Michelle (the 83 Bluebird) survived to drive another day.
I made it to Thredbo that evening and had a wander around. There seemed to be large number of BMWs and designer European style homes, but it seems mostly to be a resort town for the insanely rich. Having no real desire to slide down a mountain I checked into the most expensive hostel in Australia and contemplated the mountain. It is quite odd to see snow on gum trees. Having touched the snow, the next day I headed through the Kosciusko National Park and saw the tallest mountain in Australia. It may have been impressive a couple of million years ago, but today they look like really big hills. This is no doubt the result of being one of the oldest pieces of land in the world.
After some pretty slow going through the mountains I arrived at Canberra, the nation’s capital and a one of the greatest series of roundabouts in the world. I don’t get it. They could not decide between Sydney or Melbourne so they decided to build a completely artificial city in the middle of nowhere. It reminded me of Darwin. Mostly it consists of concrete and for a small town it seemed remarkably easy to get lost. I did the thing though... Parliament House, the National Gallery, Black Mountain adorned with a huge syringe and the National War (glorification) Monument. After 8pm you can see the tumbleweed make its way down the main street of town
The population seems to have no shortage of money and there is an abundance of soulless shopping malls with all the latest designer brands, most of which make my boycott list. I was about to leave when I decided to visit old parliament house. Here I visited the Aboriginal Tent Embassy and was invited to stay. So, three days before the election, I set up camp in the shadow of Bob Hawke’s old office. There was a poesy of activists there at the time in the lead up the re election. There was a bus load of students from Newcastle who came down to occupy the offices of the national coal industry lobby group - where they were asked to leave.
The next day I attend an occupation of the offices of Kellogg, Browne and Root (a division of Halliburton - the US corporation once headed by Dick Chaney that is responsible for many of the contracts in Iraq, military and civilian). With no desire to occupy an office for an income, let alone for fun and at heart being a wuss.... I stayed outside and held the flags with Winiata.
They went into the office and the flags were unfurled from the top of the building. Ten minutes later a police car arrived and two uniforms went inside. Then an unmarked four-wheel drive arrived and four scary looking guys in blue jump suits went in, then another police car, then another. There ended up with ten cars out the front. Then one protester was forcibly removed. "YOU'RE LUCK I'M A PACIFIST" Ali yelled as he was dragged to the van and taken away. After half an hour or so the protestors quietly left the building and joined us on the grass in front.
Then the jump suit boys arrived and circle the group, facing off Terror, one of the only aboriginal protestors. There were some quiet words as tension built and someone put their arms around Terror to prevent him being snatched. The police pulled him the other way. There was a brief struggle before the pepper spray made an appearance - hitting many of the young protestors. Terror was dragged away much to the distress of the main group.
This all went on opposite the National Press Club who came onto their balcony and took pictures. I also managed to get some shots. The rest of the day was spent at the lock up trying to get extricate the prisoners. No charges were laid to my knowledge.
The next day was Election Day and the planned reclaim the streets march assembled in Civic. Masked revellers with drums and chalk tried to mass support from the ambivalent passers by, only enlisting a few random teenagers to the cause. The result would have to be one of the smallest street parties known to man.
However, once underway, it did manage to stop traffic and annoy consumers and security guards alike at the main shopping mall in town. The group then made a broad sweep of downtown before running into the police again on Northbourne Ave. the main street of town. The police had set up a road block before moving in on the targeted individuals in the crowd, who managed to escape through the traffic. It was not long before the pepper spray came out again. Experienced demonstrators were prepared but two of the young teenagers copped it bad. I spent a good half hour nursing one before he was taken to hospital in shock. Later that day the Canberra Times arrived looking for me at the tent embassy. And that is how I was published in that dubious periodical.
The next day was sombre at the tent embassy. We painted the car some more and the next day I headed off for Sydney.... which is another story
Tune in again next time
Love
Al
Welcome,Greetings new comers and regulars alike.
For those who have not visited my site before, let me explain.
This is a section of cyberspace where I can rant, voice half-baked opinions, pursue my interest of creative non-fiction and generally let people know where I am / what I am doing without sending those mass soulless emails, that no one reads and you end up deleting after three months.
The new look will include:
* Links to weird crap I find on the internet.
* Links to past editions of the Odyssey
* An updated photo page
To fill you in so far:
In May 2004 I left my home town of Perth to travel the world. You will be glad to hear that I have finally made it out of Australia.
Currently I am living here in Southern Thailand, avoiding the violence and enjoying the good life.I will be here until next year, so all those people that I have bludged accommodation from can feel free to come for a cheap holiday in "the land of smiles".
Well apologies as usual for taking so long to get my proverbial together... hopefully the new system will be easier to use and more accessible: do not hold your breath.
Take it easy
Al
Please Note:This is not intended to be a one sided dialogue. Feel free to write an email at any time if you disagree (agree, are annoyed, pleased or have a feeling at all) with the opinions or comments contained herein. Responses are more than welcome and it is reassuring to think that there might be someone out there who reads this.WARNING: This site has not spell checker and is often completed in a hurry!
February Odyssey
As always, I am sorry for the tardiness of this latest update, but you will understand that I have been a bit busy over the past couple of months.
I arrived back in Sydney after my mad mission up the north coast of Queensland. I dropped in to mooch off Lisa and Jodie, and had a good a time as always. Their hospitality I cannot praise enough. Luckily, Aunty Bridget was back from her international adventures and managed to squeeze me into her schedule. I was good to catch up. She kindly invited me out to her place in Little Hartley, just on the far side of the Blue Mountains. It’s quite a magical spot, where I could quite easily have spent the next few months. I was very impressed, but the road was calling...…this time, in a direction that I was not expecting. My sister called to let me know that she was heading down to Tasmania for your partner's sister's wedding, they were hiring a car and I would be invited to join them in their tour around the west coast. I jumped at the opportunity and jumped on a plane. Yes, I know that, I was only going to do mainland OZ and that I have been violating my rule of "no air travel" but it really is the cheapest way to get there. I made this one exception, yet again. I arrived at Hobart International Airport. The first thing that I noticed stepping off the plane and onto the tarmac was... bloody hell, I am in England. The morning temperature was similar to an Anglo summer. It is the first time that I have seen the baggage car just drive straight into the terminal and everyone scrambles to get their bags. I left it to the scrum, as I was more interested in seeing my sister and giving her a hug.
Joanna and I went for a drive around the Huon Valley, which was very similar to south-west WA in some ways, lots of giant trees and places selling woodcrafts... they have even copied our treetop walk!! These are always spectacular. That makes all three that I have done is Oz.From there Joanna, Woodie and I set out for a camping trip up the west coast of Tassie. Our first stop was to the Lake Claire / Cradle Mountain National Park: a really beautiful spot. We camped at the Lake which even had a bar/restaurant looking out over the water! Even though it was summer, it still got bloody cold at night. I think that is the farthest south I have ever been. We did a walk around the lake and through the amazing forests. There was allot of people walking from Cradle Mountain to the Lake, but I was not all that keen... next time.From there we headed off to the historic seaside town of Strahon; a nice little town with the feel of an English fishing village. Once again some amazing wood crafts and a cozy pub that we became quite familiar with.
We drove through Queenstown which is renowned for its ugly scenery. This reputation is well founded. It was a centre for mining copper and tin: the acid rain burnt away the vegetation leaving it baron. There is a story that the plants started growing back so the locals had a busy bee to pull them all out to maintain the town's image... each to their own I suppose.From there it was up to Burnie which seemed to be the home of young single mothers and large piles of woodchip... good place to stop for lunch. That night we stayed in Launceston or (as the locals call it) Loncestion or (as the sign on the way into town calls it) Inceston. Regardless, it struck me as a very nice town, the people were friendly and the beer is award winning, quite literally. Of course we went to the Cascade Brewery, did the tour and some taste testing.
For those unfamiliar, there is a fierce rivalry between the north and south in Tassie, even though you can drive from one side of island to the other in an hour and a half! Mind you, if you have to drive 50 kms in Tassie, it is considered a days outing. Another aspect of the rivalry is the beer. Boags in the south, Cascade in the north. You can see a line somewhere in the middle of the state where never the twain shall meet.
We headed back to Hobart via Richmond (another historic English style town) to check out the oldest bridge in Oz, it looked pretty old. Every town in Australia has to have a claim to fame. Incidentally while in Hobart we did do the Boags tour as well, just to be open-minded! We visited the Salamanca Markets which seem very similar to all the others around the country. This one seemed to have allot more wood work though. We stayed with Woody's sister and her husband Bruiser, who very gracious put us up. Unfortunately, it was time for Jo and Woody to head back to Perth and their day jobs. They took off and I had to hang around to wait to catch a flight. I spent the spare time investigating the Hobart Fringe Festival. I was impressed by the homegrown performances but then again tried to think of a single good band that has come out of Tasmania.... if anyone can help me out on this, it would be greatly appreciated.
Politically, Tassie is an interesting state. In Hobart you will find allot of hippy crew but outside the capital you will have trouble spotting them. It seems to be a place of great divisions. I saw allot of bumper stickers saying "NO GREENS" and graffiti saying "Greens tell lies" but it also a place that has held some of the biggest anti-logging rallies and blockades, home of the Greens and the Wilderness Society. I saw another piece of graf announcing "HOMOPHOBART" commenting on this being the last state to decriminalize homosexuality.
Unfortunately, it was time to leave, without having checked out the east coast... you have to save some things for next time. I got up at 4 am to get to the airport at 5 am for the flight that leaves at 6 am. Unfortunately, fait had other plans. Due to a chemical spill in Melbourne the previous day, flights were delayed... I spent the next seven hours at Hobart "international" airport with no money and no one that would accept my cards.
Making it back to Sydney, eventually, I imposed on Bridget’s hospitality once again and stayed at her place in Manly, which was greatly appreciated. It is a lovely house in one of the best locations, on the north shore. It was good to catch up again, spend some quality time and share some more brilliant meals. After a few days it was time for the next adventure on The Odyssey... South East Asia, but first I needed to head home, to see the loved ones, and organise some visas. I fare welled all my friends and family and Sydney, with some more great going away meals and jumped onto a plane back to Perth.....
JANUARY ODYSSEY
On the road again...
After nearly eight months on the road, I was getting a bit weary, so I decided to make a mad dash through Queensland to finish off mainland Australia. If this addition seems a concise, it is because I had a pretty crazy month that took me from Woodford to Cairns and back to Byron.
Fraser:
I bade Darcy and Noosa Farewell. Jumping on a bus I piled off at the small, pre-tourist-boom town of Rainbow Beach - so named after the coloured sands I could not find. There I organised a deal, playing off a couple of companies against one another to get a deal on touristy crap up the Qld coast. Despite my dislike for the tourist trail, when in Rome, you have to wear a toga.
The next day I was the only "ozzie" in an old Land-cruiser heading over to Fraser Island. To cut a long story short: we got bogged, the car blew up, the cooker got left behind when the car was replaced, we almost rolled it, almost crashed it, got harassed by arseholes, got rained on and fly bitten; but apart from that, had a great time.
The Island itself is or would have been beautiful. Lake McKenzie is truely amazing despite having more people on it than Bondi during a heat wave and there are some of the best examples of cool rainforest in Oz. However, the beach was doing a pretty good impression of the Mitchell Freeway during peak hour with the addition of tour buses and light aircraft.
Also, it was my understanding that this was one of the largest dingo habitats in the country. This must have been before some unattended brat taunted one of the poor dogs, got bit and bled to death. The result was the greater population of dingoes being culled off due to the public outcry. In this reporters opinion... cull negligent parents and leave the animals alone.
I was pretty shocked at the abuse of this World Heritage Listed Park, however, if the hoons want to cut up an Island with 4x4s, best they all do it in one place and leave all the others alone.
Rainbow Beach:
We returned to rainbow beach and got on the turps. At some point underage drinkers came onto the premises and started giving my French Canadian companions a hard time, not a good move. Within minutes a brawl had broken out.
Soon there were 30 angry locals pelting the YHA with bottles, bricks and chairs. With the law 1.5hrs away, I set the barmaid onto them and withdrew to watch from the balcony. The next morning the French had disappeared, soon followed by your author.
Bundaburg:
Stopped in to do the distillery tour and soon realised why I do not drink the stuff, its made of sugar and the mere fumes will clean you out.
The Town of 1770:I
shit you not, that is the name of the town. Stopped in chasing a girl (long story) but met some other good crew instead.
Airlie Beach:
This is the most despicable tourist abomination on the face of the earth. All night bars compete with expensive restaurants and cheap crap made in china, set on some of the most beautiful coast. From here I boarded my cheap-arse cruise of the Whitsunday Islands - The Tongara. As Julie would say the Whitsundays are "Just Perfect". I would advise you to go in the dry season however, and unless you are an insane, alcoholic, not on the Tongara. As you can imagine for the price, I found myself on the party boat. In the interests of group dynamics, I felt compelled to party along.
The passengers experienced the wonder of the Reef Islands in a drunken haze that could only be rivaled by that of the captain and crew. They did well regardless, preparing fine meals and allowing us to explore the islands, snorkel on the reef and swim on the magnificent Whitehaven Beach. Good times were had by all. I would like to send heaps of love and respect to you Jo-anne: Airlie Beach will never be the same. Stay in touch.
Anyway, from there I high-tailed it to:
Cairns:
I am still not sure what so many people do up in Cairns. There seems to be a lot of people eating out and allot of sugar cane around, but no industry as such apart from drinking and scalping tourists. Enough I suppose. For me it was only a stop over to:
Cape Tribulation:
I would recommend that anyone thinking of traveling around Oz, to include this rare patch of ground, however, like WA, if you all went, it would be wrecked. Not the place to go camping in the wet season I soon found out as you will spend more time sweating than sleeping. Nevertheless, it is amazing. I have never been in an area more dense with life, insects, lizards, birds and plants abound in vast numbers. The place is truely magical. Go out and sit in the rainforest for a while, feel the nature but avoid those giant spiders. I was offered a job at the jungle lodge, and I considered disappearing into the wilderness but the road was calling - back to Cairns via Port Douglas (yuppie shithole) to catch a plane to...
Brisbane:
The poor cousin of east coast cities, it is nice enough. It is more livable than Sydney, the weather is better than Melbourne however, like Adelaide, lacks urban edge. It is well planned with a nicely contained CBD (an alarming number of sex shops in the centre of town) however, it is over an hour from the coast. To compensate they have created and artificial beach next the river. Great fun for a swim at two in the morning when you have been on the piss, but the amount of chlorine makes you wonder.
The redeeming light of Briz-vegas is Fortitude Valley (The Valley to the initiated), which is the St Kilda or Northbridge of Brizzy. Here you can find great bars, China town and some great live music venues. Check out The Troubadour and Rics.
The other shining light is of course Maestoso, the band that I met at the Folkie. They very kindly showed me the edited highlights of town and invited me to act as roady during a weekend tour to Toowoomba. Having more than a little experience and always being up for a road trip I jumped in the van. We had a great time. I would have stayed longer if I did not have to meet up with Cousin Stasia in...
Byron Bay:
As discussed not my favourite place, but it was good to see my cous who was in town with little Mazzy-Rae for a Conference. I stayed at a pseudo-hippie campground aka crapground call the Arts Factory aka the Cash Factory. Spend some quality time with the fam, before making it down to...
Sydney:
…which will have to wait till next time.
Love... Al
An Odyssey Yule and New Year
What to do?
My itchy feet took me to the most easterly town in Australia: Byron Bay. The indigenous owners of the area believe that this is a place for rest and recuperation before continuing on your journey refreshed and renewed.
I found out why shortly after arriving: a campsite in town would cost you $40 p/n or $250 p/w. Needless to say I went to a park just outside of town to set camp (without paying).
The land surrounding Byron is truely beautiful - lush forest come right down to the white sand of the clear Pacific Ocean. The flora is intense, green and wondrous. The town itself would once have been a quite backwater, but, with rising land prices and yuppies trying to find places out of town to rest their weary loafers, the place has seemed to go silly.
It is also the nearest beach town to Nimbin which gives it a vaguely hippy feel. Therefore a plethora of "Wellness Centers" and "Meditation Retreats" have sprung into existence. The visitor can also enjoy such services as Thai massage, floatation tank sessions, aura photographs and colonic irrigation, all for an inflated price. However, overpriced hippie crap is not all that it has to offer: there are overpriced meals, drinks and sweatshop clothing.
An added disadvantage is the popularity of the area with tourists. The main street has become a delight to those local and international travelers who find so much money too heavy to carry around. There is a preponderance of businesses around town to help those with this terrible affliction: offering all manner of tours, surfing lessons and pricey internet access.
Maybe I am doing the place a disservice as I was there at the peak of the crazy season, but quite frankly it shat me to tears. The upsides were of course, the amazing beach and the beautiful ladies to be found both on it and around it.
One of my less fortunate experiences was to visit a Krishna Feast. I have always been fond of the Krishna’s cheap food more than their cheap beliefs (no offence intended) however, on this particular occasion I got the worst of both. Seeing an advert for said feast, I brought my empty belly along to the local scout hall with the intention of filling it up. Unfortunately, they were keen on converting me, performing lengthy chants and having me get up to dance in the name of Krishna. They were lucky I was starving or I would have been off. It turns out they own a town just north of Byron called Uki, which is a huge Krishna settlement. I was invited to join them with free camping, but this time, I thought I might give it a miss.
Yule:
In recent years, I have not been a big fan of Christian holidays, so this year I decided to celebrate the pagan holiday that the former has usurped - Yule, which is celebrated on the day of the last full moon before the end of the year (as is my understanding).
Lisa who you will remember from the last installment was wondering what to do for the holiday. She could fly home to Tasmania, to be in the bosom of her family or she could fly up to the north coast and spend the day with me. I am glad to say that she chose the latter option, as we had a great time.I hired a car and picked her up from the Ballina Airport. From there we headed up to Lennox Head and head a vegan fry-up breakfast. After lazing on the beach for a while we visited some of her friends from Canberra. Here we were welcomed into the family home just in time for desert... excellent timing. We supped on champagne overlooking the ocean from their verandah. Not wanting to impose, we soon headed off to Byron for a swim and a wander around town.
After a delightful meal, we headed off again, this time up to Nimbin where we had a teepee booked for the evening with views of the Minion Falls National Park. Delightful.The next day we wandered around town, saw some great live music, had some more wonderful food and generally just relaxed. The following day we were destined to part company yet again, but before that, we drove to Minion Falls to have a look. It truely was divine. Less can be said of the road leading us there, which was why she almost missed the flight, to return to the rigours of the classical music industry - a hard master.
I however, was left with the decision of what to do next: stay in Byron with the inflated prices, or bypass Brisbane and make a dash for the Woodford Folk Festival.
NYE and the Woodford Folk Festival:
Obviously I decided on the latter and I am well glad that I did. In addition to the accommodation expense in Byron, on NYE they were charging $100 for entry to a pub to buy a drink. Not my bag baby.
The "Folky" as it is affectionately known, is not inexpensive either, however, it is quite reasonable when you consider the value contained in your season pass.
To begin with, for those unaware: The Peoples Republic of Woodford is the biggest music and arts festival of its kind in Australia and has been going for the past 19 years in various forms. This year was the biggest so far: 130 000 people over 6 days (boxing day to NY day), 50 000 people camping, 1 500 volunteers, over 20 venues holding more than 4 000 acts. These included: Resin Dogs, The Waifs, Cat Empire, Missy Higgins, Bob Brosman, Xavier Rudd, Butterfingers and many more. There were workshops, food stalls, lectures, street theatre, their own radio station, belly dancing, Mongolian throat singing, Morris dancing, African drumming, comedy, sousaphones and well, there is just too much to put up here or I will run out of room. Check it out for yourself at: http://www.woodfordfolkfestival.com/ I strongly advise one and all to attend this festival before they die. It truely is an remarkable place with a vibe that I have yet to experience outside a pill party! Go, Get a ticket. NOW!!!
I arrived on Boxing Day, after dark, in the rain and started to look for somewhere among the crowded campsite to pitch a tent. Not an auspicious start. Here, however, I had the good fortune to meet some great people. Big shout outs to Jana, Jordan, Nathan, Camryn and Stu of the Maesoto crew: the band that I happened to set up camp next to and ended up hanging with for most of the festival and beyond; more about these guys later. Check them out at http://www.maestoso.com.au/. Also, big respect to Darcy who gave me a lift up to Noosa and opened his family home to me for a much needed hot shower and feed of fresh fruit and veg. He also gave me a brilliant tour of the swank town that it is.
Anyway, I am out of space yet again but that at least brings us to 2005. Hope you like the new look and I will look forward to catching ya soon, in person or on email.
Lots of love
Al
More Odyssey
December 2004
Alright, yes I am sorry that I have not blogged sooner and there is no real excuse. But you will be glad to hear that I am alive and well.On my arrival in Sydney I found it fast-paced, polluted, unfriendly and stressful. After spending nearly two months there I have concluded that it is fast-paced, polluted, unfriendly, stressful and expensive.
My time in Sydney, however, was great. I had the opportunity to catch up with family and friends which was long overdue.
I am very grateful to my Aunty Mary, who generously opened her home and heart to me, both of which reside in Windsor to Sydney's west. It also gave me the opportunity to spend some time with my cousin Louise in Penrith and her sister Kate. This also gave me my first meeting my second cousin Liam to whom Paul makes an enthusiastic and loving father, congratulations to them both.
While in Windsor it gave me a base from which I was able to secure a little work teaching English and doing some work for International Volunteers for Peace (see links) - Greetings to Rita, Maria and the rest of the crew, you do some fine work.
Keeping with the family, I would also like to send virtual, yet loving greetings out to my cousin Anastasia, her daughter Mazzy-Rae, Uncle Pat (Spillane) and Da, also Alana Chan and Brendon O'Keeffe.
While in Sydney I visited my Grandparent’s former home in Bonals Bay and their graves at Cooranbong. Though we hardly met, I know that they will always be with me - James and Bridget O'Keeffe.
After Windsor I rented a flat aka "roach motel" on Abercrombie Street in Redfern. This gave me a chance to spend some time with Pat McEnry at the Shannon Hotel: a great place for fine food, live music and the "craic". If you are in town you should check it out.In addition it allowed me to investigate the social conditions at "The Block" where the riots had occurred not long before my arrival. It is a strange situation and like no other that I have seen in Australia: a city suburb that has been returned to its traditional owners; since then there seems to be little development. I had a walk down the main street and all heads turned to look. I smiled, kept walking, stopped for a chat and found some really genuine people. There are others that I have met who have had less positive experiences in the area. However, it will be interesting to see how long it lasts before it succumbs to the pull of gentrification that has consumed the rest of the city. Till then it still appears to be a no go area for both police and the rest of the population.It is also from Redfern that I bid my beloved Michelle farewell. It is impossible to get a car registered in NSW, so I put up a notice for a free car. To my surprise someone stole the bluebird and it turned up in Cronulla, where it was turned over to a local wreckers. May she rest in piece(s).
After Redfern, I was made the welcome guest of my eternal friend, Lisa who put me up (and put up with me) in her flat above a hock-shop on Parramatta Road in the Italian district of Lieckhart - where great coffee and food is enjoyed by all. I also helped her move house to Petersham which was allot less noisy.
Through this marvellous human I was able to score free tickets to the ballet at a little venue known as the Sydney Opera House: an interesting show.
I was escorted by our family friend from Perth Chrystelle who has been carving a name for herself in the competitive world of publishing here in “the big smoke”.
We also had the opportunity to visit the Newtown Festival, which for a community fete, felt more like the big day out. I have a great fondness for Newtown as it seems to be the funkiest place to be in Syd-vegas. This should be the case until the yuppies come in, buy up the property and ruin it for everyone. It reminded me of Brunswick St. or St Kilda in Melbs.
Also had a chance to catch up with my good friend Anna from Melbs who was just up visiting, Swiss Julie and Jules of international "Panics" fame. The new tunes are sounding good dudes!
In retrospect I found Sydney a very suburban city despite its size and cosmopolitan flavour. It seems to be the urban Australia that I have experienced elsewhere, just intensified. I am sure that if you came from New York or London it would seem like a really laid back beautiful city. However, the waste management system appears to be non existent, with raw sewage being pumped into the ocean. There also seems very poor water management. For this and other reasons, it was time to move.
I caught a train to the Blue Mountains to relive a trip made with my brother many years ago. On arrival, it was obvious that the place had changed and not for the better. Tour buses arrived every ten minutes. Ah well. The only thing that is constant is change!
I caught a lift with Brad the Kiwi and Yonaton the Israeli up the north coast. We passed through Newcastle, Port Macquarrie and Coffs Harbour all of which I did not find all that impressive. There are however some marvellous secluded beached in between. After a couple of days we arrived in the hippie nucleus of Nimbin. Here we stopped for a couple of days to smoke up the atmosphere... I mean soak up, soak up the atmosphere. It is a very interesting town. Its beginnings, as we know it today, lay in the Aquarius Festival of 1972. After this the alternative types moved in and "dropped out" of mainstream society to start a new life living closer to the land. There they still reside.
I had the great fortune of going out the commune belonging to the "Rainbow People" These guys have a huge property with 200 people, their own school, newspaper and a cafe in town. It was interesting speaking to one of the ol' blokes who had been there since the beginning and listening to the stories. It is definitely hard work to live as independently as they do.
It was not long before the feet got itchy again, but that is another story.
Till next time, peace and love
Will see you on the other side.
Al
November 2004
The final thing that I did in Melbourne was the Grand Final. Not by design but I just happened to be in town. I thought I might wander in and watch the game at a pub. Due to it being the first final between two non Victorian teams, it seemed like a pretty subdued day. Also, due to a severe hangover, for reasons that I shall not go into, I left the pub at quarter time to get a feed. Wandering down Flinders Street and ordering some Italian, I noticed a large group of punks marching in the opposite direction. Then a police car zoomed up beside them and two of Victoria’s finest jumped out. Grabbing the digi-cam, I thought I might join the "camcorder truth jihad" (see Jello Biafra).
The Police grabbed one of the punks and started hauling him to the van. The rest of the punks grabbed onto their mate to prevent him being taken away. Then the pepper spray came out and was applied liberally. Even at four or five metres away, the stuff makes you back up, which I did. Then the trusty extenda-battons made an appearance. The tension built as more police arrived, and undercover cars.
One cuntstable did not appreciate his photo being taken and pushed me away raising his baton. By this stage the commercial TV were in attendance and they started taking a more low key approach as ambulances arrived and the punks licked their wounds. Apparently it was their annual pub crawl and this was standard practice. It turned out to be more exciting than the football. When I made my complaint at the police station, the one bloke being arrested was punching people indiscriminately. Still it did not really seem like community based policing to me and reinforced stereotypes of Victorian coppers harking back to the days of Rodger Rodgerson.
Shortly after I left Melbs and headed to the Snowy Mountains. Here I had a few days repose in the bush with no one around, camping next to the Snowy River, reading and enjoying the solitude of the bush after the hustle and bustle of the city: tranquil, serine, paradise, at the end of a dirt road hugging the side of a mountain.
Having eaten all my provisions, I headed back out and toward the Australian Alps. The road was a mountain pass and rarely got out of third, until I reached a stretch of road that was pure bog, cut to bits by four wheel drives and worsened by recent rains. There was only one thing for it... attack it at full pelt and hope that someone came along soon if I got bogged (not likely as I had not seen anyone in over a week). I clocked nearly a hundred as I hit the dirt. Dropping back a gear the car slipped to the left, opposite locking the wheel we headed out to the right... travelling virtually sideways, wheels touching the edge of the cliff, we swung back the other way... then as we dropped to second, rooster tails from the back wheels.... we hit solid road, the car righted itself "Whaaaaahooooo" me and Michelle (the 83 Bluebird) survived to drive another day.
I made it to Thredbo that evening and had a wander around. There seemed to be large number of BMWs and designer European style homes, but it seems mostly to be a resort town for the insanely rich. Having no real desire to slide down a mountain I checked into the most expensive hostel in Australia and contemplated the mountain. It is quite odd to see snow on gum trees. Having touched the snow, the next day I headed through the Kosciusko National Park and saw the tallest mountain in Australia. It may have been impressive a couple of million years ago, but today they look like really big hills. This is no doubt the result of being one of the oldest pieces of land in the world.
After some pretty slow going through the mountains I arrived at Canberra, the nation’s capital and a one of the greatest series of roundabouts in the world. I don’t get it. They could not decide between Sydney or Melbourne so they decided to build a completely artificial city in the middle of nowhere. It reminded me of Darwin. Mostly it consists of concrete and for a small town it seemed remarkably easy to get lost. I did the thing though... Parliament House, the National Gallery, Black Mountain adorned with a huge syringe and the National War (glorification) Monument. After 8pm you can see the tumbleweed make its way down the main street of town
The population seems to have no shortage of money and there is an abundance of soulless shopping malls with all the latest designer brands, most of which make my boycott list. I was about to leave when I decided to visit old parliament house. Here I visited the Aboriginal Tent Embassy and was invited to stay. So, three days before the election, I set up camp in the shadow of Bob Hawke’s old office. There was a poesy of activists there at the time in the lead up the re election. There was a bus load of students from Newcastle who came down to occupy the offices of the national coal industry lobby group - where they were asked to leave.
The next day I attend an occupation of the offices of Kellogg, Browne and Root (a division of Halliburton - the US corporation once headed by Dick Chaney that is responsible for many of the contracts in Iraq, military and civilian). With no desire to occupy an office for an income, let alone for fun and at heart being a wuss.... I stayed outside and held the flags with Winiata.
They went into the office and the flags were unfurled from the top of the building. Ten minutes later a police car arrived and two uniforms went inside. Then an unmarked four-wheel drive arrived and four scary looking guys in blue jump suits went in, then another police car, then another. There ended up with ten cars out the front. Then one protester was forcibly removed. "YOU'RE LUCK I'M A PACIFIST" Ali yelled as he was dragged to the van and taken away. After half an hour or so the protestors quietly left the building and joined us on the grass in front.
Then the jump suit boys arrived and circle the group, facing off Terror, one of the only aboriginal protestors. There were some quiet words as tension built and someone put their arms around Terror to prevent him being snatched. The police pulled him the other way. There was a brief struggle before the pepper spray made an appearance - hitting many of the young protestors. Terror was dragged away much to the distress of the main group.
This all went on opposite the National Press Club who came onto their balcony and took pictures. I also managed to get some shots. The rest of the day was spent at the lock up trying to get extricate the prisoners. No charges were laid to my knowledge.
The next day was Election Day and the planned reclaim the streets march assembled in Civic. Masked revellers with drums and chalk tried to mass support from the ambivalent passers by, only enlisting a few random teenagers to the cause. The result would have to be one of the smallest street parties known to man.
However, once underway, it did manage to stop traffic and annoy consumers and security guards alike at the main shopping mall in town. The group then made a broad sweep of downtown before running into the police again on Northbourne Ave. the main street of town. The police had set up a road block before moving in on the targeted individuals in the crowd, who managed to escape through the traffic. It was not long before the pepper spray came out again. Experienced demonstrators were prepared but two of the young teenagers copped it bad. I spent a good half hour nursing one before he was taken to hospital in shock. Later that day the Canberra Times arrived looking for me at the tent embassy. And that is how I was published in that dubious periodical.
The next day was sombre at the tent embassy. We painted the car some more and the next day I headed off for Sydney.... which is another story
Tune in again next time
Love
Al
