I had been instructed by the paramedics to see a doctor the next day. Unfortunately, I learned in Hervey Bay that all of the town's general practitioners are closed on Saturday, so I had to take a taxi to the hospital. They examined the wounds and the doctor concluded that I had no infections, but risked one under my left pinkie and ring fingers if they remained. So after that unfortunate business was done, I had new bandages and felt much more comfortable. Back at the hostel I got ready for the tour to Fraser Island, along with the other 28 participants. We were split up into groups. I was placed in the non-drivers group. I had been looking forward to getting behind the wheel on the world's largest sand island, but though I had not been rendered incapable of driving, I didn't trust myself in that state, especially with the shift being on the left-hand side. During the ferry ride the next morning, it started to rain. This proved to be prophetic, as most of the adventure was made under a moist sky. Those who chose to drive had to learn quick, as we started by going to the other side of Fraser, and the inland roads all consist of big lumps of sand and puddles of depth that unknown until you attempt to cross them. While we did see all of the sights, frequent rains spoiled much of the group's fun. Instead, our most enjoyable moments probably came at night, under the open dining area's roof, playing drinking games. I had to refrain from alcohol because of the painkillers I was taken, but we substituted larger quantities of water for all of my drinks in the various games. We camped in tents overnight. We did gel fairly well as a group. I particularly liked Jess, an American Englishwomen who was travelling with 3 younger friends from Britain. We all agreed to meet back up on facebook afterwards.
I caught the bus to Brisbane, and led myself on a 6 hour tour of the city. The city made famous by catastrophic floods 2 months ago was clearly under construction. I cross the Brisbane River on a pedestrian bridge and got looks of the city its South Bank. The diversity of birds living within the city was striking. A British couple that had been on the Fraser Tour offered me the book that they had finished reading. Not having any reading material besides my guide books, I accepted, and so far it's been worth the extra weight.
My bus out of Brisbane was an overnight to Port Macquarie. My cellphone alarm roused me at 6:15, which is when I learned of the birth of my niece (Congratulations Chris & Becky!), and with no businesses open and no accommodation booked, I went to the eastern shore of the town to watch the sunrise. It was St. Patrick's Day. Port is a pleasant, medium-sized town with some of the cheeriest people that I met in Australia. My first day ended up somewhat washed out when a severe thunderstorm warning was posted and mother nature followed through. Fortunately, I was well situated in a hostel by that point. Besides, the wind and torrential rain were entertainment enough. I met some of the other guests during the weekly pizza dinner that night. It came with free goon (Australia's famous boxed, fermented fruit juices), so I was merrily telling the stories, trials, and future plans of my travels to all the young ladies at my end of the table. I caught the bus the next day to the Billabong Koala Breeding Facility. In addition to the koalas, I got to feed kangaroos, and see emus, dingos, and taipans one last time. In the early evening, I was walking along the town's breakwall
My last day in Oz rainy (fittingly), and once I was off the bus in Sydney, I went about retracing old steps from 6 weeks ago, and stopping occasionally to people watch. It's so difficult to tell who's a local and who's a tourist in this city. Without thinking, I took the last train of the night to the International Terminal of the airport at 12:50am, where I found out that the airport is closed from 0:00 to 4:00, and that everyone is made to wait in an auxiliary room short on chairs, but rife with noisy cleaning machines and cold, hard floorspace. The rain took away the option of going outside. By 4:00 I had realized that my first flight of the day was to Melbourne, and should leave from the Domestic Terminal. But there is no free transportation between these two places, and public transit was not to start until an hour and twenty minutes before my flight, so I had to take a $20 taxi. Still it was good to get to see Sydney and Melbourne from the air one last time.
During the second flight of the day I got to see the Indonesia islands of Bali, Java, and (from far away) Borneo. The Singapore Airport is a load of fun. Security happens right at the gate area, which is walled-off from everything else. So for every two gates in the airport, there are two metal detectors, and the security screening staff must constantly be moving around. This allowed a sizable contingent of friends and family to be present right at the gate to welcome a handful of homecomers. The main part of the airport feels more like a mall, with much shopping, and internet terminals, wifi, large tv screens showing soccer, 3D tv, 3D and Xbox gaming terminals, and children's playgrounds, all provided for free.
I flew to the more normal, Kuala Lumpur airport, which is immense and and located a very long ways away from city center. The first thing to strike any western tourist here will probably be the prices, which in most cases are a full 66 to 75% less than what I paid in Australia. The next would be language, which officially is Malay, written with the Roman Alphabet. KL (Peninsular Malaysians make acronyms for practically every geographic location in their part of the country) is certainly a city that was not designed with a plan. Highways and railways are mostly located at street level, thus requiring footbridges, or daring dashes to get around. My favorite part after one day has been food. The Malays, Chinese, and Indians all can cook, and meals are cheap, small, and consumed 5 or 6 times a day. My first day took an interesting detour when I met a local man of Chinese descent, and he asked if I could go to his home to meet his family. I had told him that I was American and he wanted me to give advice to his sister who would be traveling to America in a few weeks. I agreed and got in the car with his other sister and cousin, and we made the short drive to his place, one in a row of many attached homes. The family was nice, and offered me a small lunch. The sister was at the hospital to see their mother. Meanwhile, a man that he claimed to be his brother asked me if I wanted to learn about his job in the casino. I said sure, and we went into a small, air-conditioned room, where he taught me a blackjack-based game for two players, where the house only deals and takes a portion of the winner's earnings. He was a dealer for the casino. It was cool, but things took a turn for the uncomfortable when he asked if I wanted to use his position to play the game at an advantage. He said that one player always sits next to him, and that when that player looks at her cards, he can always see them clearly and could signal to me what they had. I politely declined, saying that I thought it was cheating. He asked me if I was a Christian. I laughed. When I came out of the room, I was told that mother's condition was not getting any better, so the family was planning on going to the hospital to see her. I was dropped off back by where this whole adventure began. Comments?
I also visited the Islamic Arts Museum, which is quite marvelous, especially their exhibits on clothing and architecture, the latter of which features some 15 intricate models of all of the most famous mosques in the world. The collection comes from the entire Muslim world, not just Malaysia. What seemed surprisingly absent were the types of artifacts that you traditionally find in museums, i.e. paintings, sculptures, etc. My walk back went through Chinatown, which is a huge bustle: shops crowding every square foot of space, attention-seeking touts, tantalizing to dreadful aromas. This part of the trip is shaping up to be quite different indeed.
No comments:
Post a Comment