Well, as planned I had lunch with Fel and wandered around the neighborhoods Ultimo and Pyrmont with her (the peninsula between Glebe and the CBD). It was really nice seeing her again – but I think I surprised myself by how quickly I had transitioned into the ‘just friends’ role, and was actually feeling comfortable with that. Maybe I am getting more mature after all…

In the evening I went and saw the new Batman movie with the gang from the house, to see what all the talk about posthumous Academy Awards for Heath edger was all about. In short: I liked it! :)

During the next couple days, apart from hanging out with my house mates, I also met up with Line, my friend from the dorm in Denmark whom I had hooked up with Fel, so they would be living together. My only negative experience here in Oz was the month or so of house hunting with the constant uncertainty about where I’d will live hovering in the back of my mind all the time. Worrying about something as fundamental as where your home will be – even if it’s just for half a year – is quite stressful, as you may have been able to tell from the tone of my blog at the time. So, if I’ve been able to spare Line from that, I think that’s about as good a hello/goodbye present I could possibly give her :)

So, as I said, I met up with Line who flew in on the evening of the 21st and would be staying in Sydney for a year, writing her bachelor project at the University of Sydney. USYD both has a more beautiful campus (with old buildings in a park-like environment) and a more active social life than UTS, so in many ways I envy her. Still, I have met so many great friends, many in other ways than uni, that I can’t really complain. Anyways, it was really nice seeing her, even if it was only for a few days before I would be heading out myself.

I also shipped some excess luggage to Denmark – I ended up shipping 14 kilos which sounds like a hell of a lot, but as it turns out that was the perfect amount, as I just barely avoided paying overweight on my flight back. Obviously someone has been throwing heavy junk into my backpack when I’m not looking… I ended up opting for using a courier, as it was only slightly more expensive – $190 vs. $180 for air freight – and it takes an estimated 9 days in stead of 4 weeks. Hmm, should be showing up pretty soon now, actually…

I also had a big going away party on the 23rd, inviting a bunch of people over for tortillas and drinks. Apart from current and former housemates, Fel, Line and Henry & Belinda also showed up. I also got a parting present from Henry and Bel – a “Space Pen” which can write underwater, upside down or in zero g – neato! Anyways, it was great to see everyone again, and we had fun eating, talking and doing group sing-alongs with me playing guitar. Friends and music – what more could you ask for? :)

The next day – my last day in Sydney – I’d planned to do the Coogee to Bondi walk with Line, but since it was quite rainy, we decided against it. Plan B was going to the Taronga Zoo with Amy, but we ended up leaving the house so late, that 45 dollars for 1½ hours in a zoo sounded like a bad deal (it’s on the north shore, so it taxes time and money to sail back and forth). No worries – inspired by a Jack Johnson song which we’d been humming, we just headed home and made banana pancakes instead :)

After that came a period of protracted goodbyes, some in the evening and some the following morning, where I got up at 5 to get ready for my taxi to the airport. It was really weird saying goodbye; as Line had warned me it is harder to say goodbye when you are going home than when you start your journey, because this time you don’t know when or if you’ll ever see people again. Still, I wasn’t really prepared for how tearful it all became – maybe I’m a big softy after all… These people have meant the world for me, they have defined my stay in Oz and I will be eternally thankful for their friendship!

And thus, finally, came the moment of parting where I caught a cab and headed to the airport. It felt surreal, driving to the airport in the gloom of early morning, chatting with a cab driver from ex-Yugoslavia. Sigh…

In the airport I got in the queue behind a massive body of people, who turned out to be young Catholics from Germany, who were on their way back from World Youth Day. I hope I don’t sound ominous (ok, so maybe I do) or resentful (ok, so maybe I am) when I say that these people would become the bane of my existence for the next day or so. Any time there was a queue of some sort, they would be there, the whole bunch of them, ahead of me, patiently blocking up a system that is not intended to have that many people go through it at once. If ever there was a need for some cosmic plumber to save the day, now was the time – Mario, where are you in my time of need? :)

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t that bad, and I wasn’t really in any hurry, seeing as how a had about 7 hours of lay-over in both Hong Kong and London, but it still made the hassle of being herded through gates and security checkpoints that much less pleasant. And frankly, my ideal seat partner on the six hour flight to Hong Kong wasn’t a German, Catholic teenager complete with stubble, vacant eyes and a cold – to judge from his coughing and wheezing, he was intent on sharing THAT joyous message as well…

Anyways, Hong Kong was actually relatively nice – the sun was setting in a most pretty manner as the evening wore on, and there was free wireless internet as well (Heathrow and Kastrup, are you taking notes?). You could almost believe that you were actually in the real world, and not in limbo on some imaginary interdimensional plane of non-existance outside of time and space – but of course you obviously are. So I whiled away the time, surfing the net, eating ramen, and trying to come to terms with the surreal change of scenery.

The next flight was the long one, almost 13 hourse, from Hong Kong to London, but thankfully I spent most of that sleeping. And my waking hourse were spent chatting to a friendly British couple next to me, and watching a travel documentary with Michael Palin (my favourite Python) about the Himalayas, which served to fuel my wanderlust all over again. The good thing about going home, is it’s also the first step towards your next adventure, whatever it will be.

I arrived at Heathrow airport early in the morning (local time) and after waiting behind the fundies to get my boarding pass, I spent the rest of the time reading and playing games on my laptop. Eventually, at half past noon I boarded the flight to Copenhagen. Since I was a member of the British Airways frequent flyer club and they apparently had vacant seats, they gave me a last second upgrade, which meant I got the fancy meal for lunch – nice.

Finally, we landed, finally, I got my bags, and finally, finally, finally, I met my parents, who were there to pick me up. My trip had ended. After 6½ months and countless experiences, I had finished this, the biggest journey, and also the best decision of my life. I feel like I should somehow sum things up here at the end, but I can’t – it’s too much, it’s too big and it wouldn’t do it justice anyway. But that’s fine, really – that’s how it’s meant to be, and I feel content to let it be like that :)

So, I guess this is a time of parting for us as well, my faithful readers. After having written about my everyday life for half a year I need a break. I might make another blog some day, and write about other things that are on my mind, less mundane, perhaps, but no less personal. I’ll definitely keep shooting photos – I’ve gotten hooked now :) And I might even revive this blog when next I go travelling. Still, I hope it’s been as enjoyable to read my ramblings as it has been to write them – it certainly makes a better, more personal and more lasting souvenir than all the didgeridoos, boomerangs and bush hats in Australia combined. So until next time – I’ll see you on the other side! And good on ya, mates! ;)

The day after we arrived in Cairns Andi went on a reef trip, while I went looking for a didgeridoo shop. I’d considered doing another trip to the reef, maybe even getting the advanced open water scuba certification, but in the end I decided against it. It would feel like trying to recreate my experience from half a year ago, and in a way I’d rather let the memories stand alone for now.

Anyways, I looked for a shop that sells didgeridoos, found one with a very friendly and competent salesman, bought a didg, and got free lessons each day until I left for Sydney. I even got the whole circular breathing thing going :) Getting the didgeridoo home on the plane seems like too much trouble and would probably just add to the overweight, so I opted to have it shipped to Denmark by air freight – hopefully it’ll be home around the same time I am.

Andi had to go home the day after, but his plane wasn’t until late in the evening, so we spent the day going around Cairns, shopping for birthday gifts for John and Susanne. The next day I spent in Cairns one my own – I’d had a plan of simply lying by the lagoon (the beach in Cairns is crap, so they have a very nice public pool) and soak up some sun, but the weather gods were not very forthcoming, and it was overcast and rainy. Anyways, I played a shitload of didg, and had quite a good day anyway. The next day I got up at 3.45 and flew to Sydney.

The guest matress at the sharehouse has until today been occupied by Vera (John’s friend from France who was also on exchange to USYD) who’s leaving for Thailand, so I’ve been sleeping on the couch, which has been surprisingly easy. Sleeping in public in a house of people you love and trust is easier than sleeping in the relative privacy of a hostel dorm with strangers around you – and I’ve been doing the latter for weeks now.

Well, with the couch situation handled, John, Vera, Amy and myself wasted no time going to a music gig that very evening. The next day we went to a pub in Newtown for Vera’s farewell drinks, but most of us were pretty tired so we headed home early. And then yesterday we went to Hunter Valley.

For those of you who don’t know it, Hunter Valley is a wine region north of Sydney, near Newcastle. It competes with the regions around Adelaide – such as Coonawarra – for the title of most famous wine region in Australia.

John had the fabulous idea of renting a car and going on a tasting tour along the wine trail – Vera, Amy and I thought that sounded excellent, and in less than a day we had gone from idea to reality. We picked up the car in the morning, and with mellow Morcheeba and Jack Johnson playing on the stereo we arrived at Hunter Valley at noon. Most wineries in the area have tasting shops called “cellar doors” where they let you sample their wines for free, and whether it’s because of the tough competition, a PR thing or just general good naturedness, they don’t have a problem with it when most visitors don’t buy anything – hooray for freebies! :)

I think we went to six or seven wineries all together – by the end all of us except John, the designated driver, had a slight buzz going. Surprisingly I generally liked the whites better than the reds, and I was confirmed in my belief that dessert wines, ports and muscats are my favorites (yes, I’m a sweet tooth :). And I learned the correct order of tasting – white, red, dessert, port – so the flavours conflict as little as possible.

Apart from the wines there were samples of olive oils, caramelised balsamic vinegar, dukkah, jams, chutneys, cheeses and the like. Yummy! So we were not really all that hungry, but still shared a delicious meat and cheese platter at a local restaurant before heading home.

And thus, sated from all the sensory experiences, we made our way back to Sydney in the gathering gloom. Even though it is winter, it had been a clear and bright day, reminding me more of late summer or early autumn in Denmark.

Hmm, what else? Today I’ve had lunch with Fel and tonight a bunch of us from the house are going to see The Dark Knight – the new Batman movie – which has gotten rave reviews across the board. Oh yeah, the pope is in town so the city is flooded with Catholics wearing flags and banners and matching backpacks. I keep telling myself that they are harmless, but such an influx of people – especially ones that I understand as little as christian fundies – still feels like an invasion. And on my home turf no less :)

That’s about it so far – I’ll tell you about my last few days in Sydney, when they have actually happened.

On that night bus I slept better than usual which was fortunate since it would have been a shame to waste the first day of sailing by being a zombie. That’s right, Airlie Beach was the port from where we began our three day sailing trip around the Whitsunday Islands on the morning of the 10th. This group of tropical islands is part of the Great Barrier Reef and as such offers the same kind of diving opportunities as I’d experienced earlier in Cairns when I took my scuba certificate.

We were introduced to the crew of the Summertime: The skipper Dave, the divemaster Karla and the chef Justine, and then headed out to sea. The going was somewhat rough while sailing out from the mainland until we reached the shelter of the islands. Our first day we went to the famous Whitehaven beach on Whitsunday Island, which purportedly has the finest sand in the world. I took no chances, and used my marine housing for the camera, which also allowed Andi and me to snap photos as we frolicked in the surf.

The next day we went diving at a spot called Luncheon Bay, which we had sailed to in the evening. It was quite amazing to be back at the reef – just like last time I saw it, it was literally teeming with life. Still, it is was somewhat cold (it is winter after all), the water was “only” 22 degrees, and once you’re back on the boat, the wind makes it feel even colder.

Thus I decided to forgo the chance of a second dive that day and in stead put on some warm clothes and soaked up a bit of sunshine. We were quite lucky with the weather – the sun shone most of the time and there was no rain – but the short hours of daylight and prevailing wind always reminded us that even in the tropics, this was not summer.

We did have one more activity for the day though – sea kayaking. Starting off with an impromptu water fight (me and Andi against everyone else, apparently) followed by water polo (more like rugby) and finally the game of “running across the fronts of 9 inflatable kayaks”, it was quite an enjoyable way to end the day. Also that evening, lamenting not having a guitar with me, I nonetheless had a lot of fun singing for and with the other guys. By the way it was a really great bunch of people – I thoroughly enjoyed their company.

The next day we would be heading home, but first we went for a dive at a place called Blue Pearl Bay. And it was probably the most enjoyable dive I have had yet!

Swimming along with Andi, Karla (the divemaster) and a French couple (Antoine & Anne) we were almost constantly surrounded by a cloud of curious fish, and I was snapping photos like crazy and even recording videos as well. I also wore two wetsuits, which helped immensely against the cold.

For the full tour check out my photo set, but I’ll try to include a few highlights here. There was an amazing swimthrough:

I found Nemo:

And finally I met Priscilla:

Priscilla is a Napoleon Maori Wrasse (called Maori because of their skin’s resemblance to native New Zealanders’ tatoos), and their social structure works in a somewhat unusual way. There will be a huge male with a harem of females (which in itself is not unheard of, I guess). The bizarre twist is that when he dies, the dominant female will become the new male of the group. The previous “pimp daddy” was named Elvis, and Priscilla undertook a sex change to replace him when he passed away. Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction…

Anyways, Priscilla inhabits a place the dive instructors call “The Dance Floor” and he (yes he!) is quite friendly. In fact he seems to love being petted. In case you want to know, he feels rather smooth and slimy :)

Well, after that positively thrilling experience we headed back towards Airlie Beach. The sea was as choppy as on the way out, but maybe I had just gotten used to it – in either case it wasn’t as unpleasant as I would have thought. And we were also briefly visited by dolphins, as if to top the whole thing off, and add a magical feeling to the day.

On the way back we got the DVDs with photos from the trip and when we arrived we also got the T-shirts. We said goodbye to the crew and then Andi and I checked in at our hostel, went to a netcafe (I only had time to upload some pictures, not write on the blog) and finally headed to the afterparty with the rest of the people from the trip at 7.

And today – today I spent the entire day on a Greyhound, did some reading (“Down Under” by Bill Bryson, which I still haven’t finished, not because It’s not good but because I’m too busy experiencing the subject myself) and watched three movies, the first two of which can only be described as movie-like presentations. They might superficially pass as movies, but on closer inspection their sheer horridness makes them transcend the format. If anyone offers you a chance to see “Good Boy” or “Big Fat Liar” I suggest you distract them with something shiny, kick them hard and then run away. By comparison “The Devil Wears Prada” which we saw on a bus earlier on the trip is a valuable gem (quick plot summary: Hot chick gets to work for Meryl Streep, wears a lot of clothes, goes to Paris, has a fling, quits her job and then gets back with her boyfriend).

Today I also ate the worst meal I have had in Oz at one of the “leg stretching stops” along the way. Since when does Spaghetti Bolognese include tuna and mushrooms, but no minced meat? I wouldn’t have minded as such, if it had had any taste, which unfortunately seems to be too much to ask. Oh well, you live and you learn – in fact I’m quite certain that there is a valuable life lesson to be learned here, but I’m not exactly sure what it is. Something along the lines of “Dodgy places make dodgy food” or “Even spaghetti can go wrong”. Anyways now I’m finally in Cairns again, it actually feels like summer here, and now I will go out and enjoy the tropical night. See ya folks!

We spent the next day exploring the CBD, botanical garden and riverside. Frankly, it was underwhelming – Brisbane might be a good city to live in (I’ve been told so on a number of occasions) but when you’re just passing through like we were it just seems smaller and less exciting than Sydney, but not enough so to make it really charming. Or it might just have been the weather, which was overcast and lukewarm at best.

Also, we once again tried to get surf shorts, and again failed to find anything interesting – aren’t metrolises supposed to have the stuff you can’t find in smaller towns? Well, quite tired from walking the city we ate dinner at a Tibetan restaurant (yummy – there’s an idea for a journey some day) and headed back to the hostel.

Later that evening Andi went out with a bunch of German guys with whom we shared a dorm, but I decided to stay in and get some sleep. I believe that it’s a good idea to have some time to ourselves, so we don’t begin to get on each other’s nerves. It was probably for the better anyway, since it meant I was awake to get him out of bed early the following morning (not an easy task, let me tell you), get us to the transit centre at 7:45 to catch the bus and offer some sympathy for Andi’s mobile phone which had been lost the night before.

In the early afternoon we arrived in Hervey Bay, the town from where we would go to Fraser Island the following day. Andi bought a new mobile and got his number transferred to a new sim card, and after that we packed our bags for the next day (we had to leave most of our luggage in lockers at the hostel) and for once cooked a decent meal ourselves.

The following morning we checked out and got introduced to our self-drive group. We were 9 in our car, and there were two other groups of about the same size, who would be traveling more or less alongside us for the next couple days. After that we were driven to the garage to get our 4WD, load up the camping equipment, went food shopping together and then boarded the ferry to Fraser Island.

After engaging the four wheel drive and appropriately deflating our tyres we were set to start wrestling with the sandy tracks of the largest sand island in the world. The first day was pretty much just spent driving from the barge landing on the west coast to the beach on the east coast, which would serve as our highway for the rest of the trip.

Driving around Fraser Island is kinda tricky; not only did we need to make it to the camping ground before sunset – we also had the restriction of only being able to drive on the eastern beach during low tide. When the tide was at its lowest however, it was like a 6 lane freeway, save for the occasional piece of driftwood or a sandy washout. Philip, our designated driver for most of the trip, handled it admirably however – hats off for an unusually good balance between fun and safety.

We decided to follow the suggested itinerary which we had been given and which – we were told – would allow us to see all the coolest spots without any problems with the tide. Deviating only slightly from the suggested route (not willingly, but the road signs weren’t very forthcoming) we arrived at the Cromwells camp ground before sunset. It rained while we were putting up the tents and hanging up the tarps, but luckily the rest of the night was dry.

Campfires are illegal on Fraser except for special designated places and using your own non-treated firewood brought from the mainland – needless to say we didn’t have one. There was however another group at the campsite who would be going back in the morning, so they decided to use the rest of their gas as an impromptu fire. Also, in the dark we spotted a couple of dingos (which we were under strict orders not to feed either directly or by leaving food or garbage unattended).

We got up early next morning, so we could get to Indian Head and the Champagne Pools in the north before the high tide at 9.

We did however have enough time to make a stop at the wreck of the Maheno.

As we came there, a couple of rangers showed up, making sure none of us had any crazy ideas, like going inside the rusty remains of the ship (which of course none of us would consider doing).

We ate breakfast near Indian Head, a rocky outcropping on the otherwise very sandy island, and then made our way to the Champagne Pools. This rocky pool is named after the frothy spray from all the waves pounding the place, and although the rocks are treacherous, it is a popular place to bathe.

We ate lunch and then went to a nearby beach, for once just lounging around on the sand, doing trick photography and enjoying the sunshine (the waters around Fraser are full of tiger sharks, so swimming is discouraged).

Next up we headed south again, stopping at a little village to buy ice for our eski’s (cooler boxes) and then finding a camping ground for the night just south of Eli Creek. Our campsite for was a lot more well organized than teh previous night, but unfortunately the tarps and tents weren’t quite waterproof as one would have wanted. After spending a night dodging puddles, you are more than ready to head back to civilization, which in fact was what was on the program.

After heading inland we made our way to Lake McKenzie, a beautiful clear lake perched on the sand 100 meters above sea level. It was very pretty, and had the weather been better we would have been quite content to just lounge around by the lake the rest of the day. As it were, we went a bit further inland to Central Station, which has a somewhat misleading name – for me at least it evokes images of big terminal buildings, not a parking and picnic area in the forest, which is what it really is. Anyways, that’s where we ate lunch before going to the barge landing from where we would be transported to the mainland at 4 in the afternoon.

Back from the island, we re-inflated our tyres and made our way to the garage to clean up and hand over the car. Finally, back at the hostel and the warm embrace of civilization, we all took a couple hours to bathe and put on dry clothes and then went to eat together at an Irish pub. Today, after enjoying sleeping in a real bed, we’ve checked out, and later in the afternoon we’ll catch a night bus to Airlie Beach, where we will arrive at 6 tomorrow and go sailing for three days. So it’ll be a few days until you hear from me again. Hope you are all doing well!