Hate

Over the course of our trip, we’ve been to three Muslim countries: Turkey, Abu Dhabi, and Malaysia. Meanwhile, the French, Belgians, and Germans have been battling terrorist incidents. There is a disconnect. The people we have met–and I’m not just talking about those in the service industries catering to western tourists, but those we meet as fellow visitors and citizens on the street–have been unfailingly friendly, kind, and helpful. Sure, you can’t see a smile behind a burka, but you can hear it in a voice or the crinkle of a smile in the eyes. 

I’m not saying my individual observations are more accurate than our media, necessarily. But, I don’t have a political agenda to push, a constituency to please, or an axe to grind. From the outside looking in, it would appear the U.S. media, at least, is promoting confrontation. 

Are there protesters upset with the depiction of their prophet by non-believers? I haven’t seen any, but the world is a large place, and I am sure that out of millions of Muslims there are hundreds in the streets for the cameras. But, anyone see any anti-Christ cartoons lately? Wonder why? Maybe we have our taboos too.

I’m beginning to think that governments and media prejudice their citizens and consumers for their own ends. They’re not the statesmen or newsmen they pretend to be, but ranting Archie Bunkers and we all are too disconnected from the rest of the world to realize it.

Marcia’s Observations

One of the main reasons we travel is to shake up our take on things. Beliefs, expectations and assumptions that we leave with are often not the same ones we return with. In no particular order, the following stand out as things we have observed during this trip that have the power to change how we think, who we are and what is important to us.

1) In the past, wherever our world travels took us–Europe, Asia, South America, Africa–we always bumped into tons of Americans (predominantly from New York, California and Florida), as well as Germans, Brits, and Japanese. On this trip, in addition to Brits, who are still among the world’s most avid travellers, we’ve encountered mostly Australians (oddly enough from the less-populated Perth, not Sydney), Canadians and Chinese. The smattering of Americans we’ve met were mostly from the midwest. I don’t think we’ve come across one northeastener yet. Even with a few Californians and Floridians thrown in, the U.S. has been way under-represented this trip. We found this very strange. Is there a shift in the travelling population?  Everywhere we visited, the locals spoke about Chinese travellers wanting to buy up everything from art to jewelry to wine to real estate. There seems to be a great deal of wealth in mainland China seeking a home abroad. And American influence appears to be waning. Hmmmm…..

2) Speaking of wealth, the disparity been the haves and have nots, especially in travel, has become positively alarming. Basically, one is either a prince or cattle. It’s not just about leg room, in flight meals or flat bed seats anymore, although all of these make long haul flights more tolerable. These days, a Business Class ticket literally gets you to the head of the line at check in, at security checks, at customs and on transfer buses. And it can be a matter of survival when things go wrong. Witness our saga as “paid” Economy Class passengers vs. “free” award ticket First Class passengers during the 4 days we were at the mercy of Etihad and Qantas. Our free ticket was our entry pass into prince-dom and made a huge difference in how (and how quickly) we were rerouted; how we were fed, sheltered, and transported to and from airports; the amount of cash provided for “pain and suffering” and even lost luggage delivery. I can’t forget the crowd at the Etihad counter in Abu Dhabi when the plane arrived too late to make any connecting flights. It was so chaotic we fully expected to see flapping chickens and squealing pigs emerge from the mob. Instead, we waved our magic ticket and were whisked away to the Etihad lounge to be soothed with liquor, a lavish international buffet, a shower if desired, and an assigned airline rep to rearrange our lives while we relaxed.

Andy and I googled the cost of a First Class ticket from Abu Dhabi to Sydney–a staggering $20,000 per person. I suspect Business Class isn’t much more approachable (which might explain why there were so many shieks in the lounge with us). Alas, when our miles run out, we will once again become part of the herd. However we will certainly spring for lounge acess on long or multiple leg trips–a compromise which seems to be well worth it, if only to escape even briefly from the madding crowds.

One more observation on money and travel. In Tasmania, we met a Singaporean couple who were heading off to Cradle Mountain, where we had just spent 3 glorious days hiking in the national park. To save money, they had opted to stay in a small town 40 kilometers outside the park. That decision would likely cost them the entire park experience. Those 40 kilometers will take them over 1 1/2 hours to drive each way, on a narrow 2-lane road with dozens of switchbacks, hairpin turns and the constant threat of wallabies, wombats and wandering cows around each one. Add fog, nighttime and the threat of rain to the mix, and that drive will be the last thing they will want to take after a day hiking in the park. What a shame–less than $100 per night more would have made all the difference. We dodged many such bullets in planning this trip, often opting not to do something at all if we couldn’t do it in a way that would maximize the experience. From this point forward, I will always think of that couple when budgeting a trip.

3) Birds, animals and flowers. Given that it is summer in Australia, I was surprised at the dearth of flora and fauna, both in number and variety. We came across crows, currawongs and ducks, a wallaby or two, sheep, and cows. Plant life consisted mostly of agapanthus, roses and hydrangas and huge stands of every kind of euculpytus one could imagine. Of course, in wine country, vineyards went on for miles. But so far, that’s about it. Drought and changing weather patterns worldwide may be responsible.

4) Stuff. We wisely limited ourselves to what we each could carry/lug without help–namely one suitcase and a backpack apiece. Given that we had to accomodate a range of dress codes (from a fancy New Years Eve gala to hiking gear), and all types of weather, from from frigid cold (Iceland), rain and snow (Europe), and heat/humidity (Malaysia), packing was no small feat. (Especially when one travels with someone who has big feet!) While we used practically everything we brought, we could have gotten away with far less. This became apparent after 4 days with no luggage. Packing and repacking and repacking yet again got old real fast. I found we yearned for simplicity when it came to stuff and don’t need much variety at all when it comes to things.

5) Experiences. The opposite seems to be true when it comes to experiences. People we met asked us which was the best part of our trip. As we near the end, we’ve concluded that no one experience stands out as much as the variety of it all…zigging and zagging between elegant restaurants, art museums, pizza joints, Viennese waltz lessons, hiking trails, opera and symphony houses, midnight jeep adventures, boat cruising, road trips, historical and geological side trips, wine tastings, organ recitals, city touring and cosy cabins in the woods. The ability to rough it and luxuriate with equal pleasure is what has made this trip so memorable and special for us.

6) Resiliancy, socialability and compatability. Being gone for such a long time, we’ve had to become pretty adept at dealing with unexpected detours. And we’ve had to interface with a wide range of people from very different backgrounds. This has been far easier than we expected, given that socialability isn’t something that comes naturally to either one of us. However, our eclectic interests, perverse sense of humor and travel background have seemingly turned us into charming conversationalists. Who would have thunk! We’ve had engaging discussions with a farmer from Oklahoma, an Austrailian CEO of a space technology company, a fusion glass artist, a gay horticulturist and his professional photographer partner, to name a few. And we quickly bonded with two Aussie couples from Perth, with whom we had the pleasure of dining (and closing the bar) on the riverboat every day. We exchanged emails and have promised each other to meet again at our respective home turfs in California and in Perth. We fully intend to live up to our part of the pact. As far as compatability goes, after 40 years of marriage, and 35 years working together, you’d think compatability between Andy and me would be a given. But on this trip, we realized how much of a team we really are, and how well our interests, skills and personalities mesh together and are complementary. It is surprising how rarely we snapped at each other, how patient and forgiving we’ve been with each other, and how much we have enjoyed all of the different experiences, even, and perhaps especially, the ones that tested us. 

As I said when I began this installment, travel broadens, but it also has the ability to narrow and focus one on what’s most important. And travel, for us, is inthe top 3. We would do this again in a heartbeat.

Real and Surreal

Think of the painter Magritte. In his works, people are representational and fruit is dead on. It’s the juxtaposition of an apple for a face that makes the works surreal–the substitution of something that should not be there for something that is expected. This is Australia as viewed by my American eye. From a distance, the gorgeous landscapes are similar to Maine, the California coast, and many of our national parks. But when you get up close, the expected is replaced by the unusual. 

You see an awfully large rabbit, blink, and now it’s a wallaby. You hear a bird whistle and see a grey and lavender parrot. The magpies have gurnsey feathering. A weeping willow turns out to be kind of pine tree. There are forests of eucalypts with a different version for each of the ecological niches. A black “garter snake” slithers by and you discover that it’s poisonous–but no worries, mate, it’s only the third deadliest in Australia, and one antivenin cures all (if administered in time). Aussies drive on the left. Cyclones rotate counterclockwise (but most drain water in sinks and toilets rotates clockwise–plumbing conventions are far stronger than the Coreolis Effect). The North Star isn’t visible and  the Southern Cross doesn’t always point South. And in Australia America’s today is an Aussie’s tomorrow. 

It’s high season and there are two cars on the road.

"High season" at a restaurant awarded "best pizza in Australia" for the last three years.
“High season” at a restaurant awarded “best pizza in Australia” for the last three years.

We visit wineries and we often are the only guests. Our hosts pour, four, five, six, samples and happily chat with us about the wine and life in general. Time per winery: 45 minutes to an hour. Cost: nothing. You meet an Aussie on a hiking trail and he’s your friend for life. They are a very open and friendly people. Ask a bloke for directions to a gas station and he’ll offer give you a liter or two if you’re running too low. If this is surreal, give me more of it. All one really needs to do is change one’s expectations and then surreal becomes normal. I’m working on that.

Come to think of it, maybe it’s the USA that is surreal in the sense that our expectations are out of line when it comes to living life as a human being instead of a consumer.