Bali

Bali has a beautiful and very chill vibe. The Balinese people are incredibly sweet and kind, and it’s genuine – not an act. The parts I’ve seen are super crowded but beautiful, especially the innumerable temples. What also strikes me is that getting around on the road, although it borders on complete chaos, works amazingly well, no doubt because of how mellow everyone is.

I know one thing for sure – I would never drive here. Normally I rent a vehicle when I arrive somewhere and figure things out on my own. Here, the streets are a procession of speeding cars, trucks and motor scooters that all works seamlessly and seemingly without effort. The frenetic pace on the roads and in traffic appears to be a hair’s breath from total chaos, yet it somehow works perfectly. Wow.

No traffic lights, lanes or yield signs, yet no horns sound and everyone simply weaves in and out of the ever moving motorized maelstrom that surrounds and swallows them. If you’ve been here, you know what I mean. It’s very different from other third world countries I’ve visited, where chaos reigns on urban roads and you sense that a collision or accident is going to happen every second (and they often do). It must be the nature of the Balinese people to be so chill while negotiating what to me are hair-raising escapades at high speeds behind the wheel or handlebars. I was blown away. Random theory scientists would do well do stop in and check things out here.

I did something yesterday that I virtually never do – I played tourist rather than finding my own way around to the things I wanted to see. Because I said no to driving, my hotel recommended a guide and driver for the day, and he turned out to be one of the kindest, most patient individuals I’ve ever met. Gusti knew so much about the temples, forests, dances, waterfalls, wood carving shops and everywhere else that we went that I just sat back and had a grand time. Very cool.

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Yesterday was a visual and aesthetic treat for the eyes and mind, so I think it best to let some photos do the talking now. Batwan Temple:

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Entry to terraced rice fields (yes, they’re a tourist attraction here).

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Wood carving shop. Thank you, Steve Gold, for your suggestion to check these out. Really incredible handiwork on display, all of which is done purely with the carvers’ imagination.

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The way of the world.

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Monkey Forest. He looked pretty chill until he chased and tried to bite me (apparently the reflections of my water bottle entranced him).

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Waterfall entrance. Why would you need to evacuate here? It was a couple of hundred feet above the falls.

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This little guy is gonna have to grow into those ears.

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Off to meander through the streets and hit the beach today.

 

 

Pushing Northward

The past two days were spent watching the scorched landscape of Western Australia whir by. It has been over 110F here every day this week and has felt like a blast furnace when you step out of the car or whatever air conditioned building you’re leaving. The mercury has climbed relentlessly as I’ve traveled further northward, closer to the equator, and there’s a distinct feeling that if you’re not in the shade with lots of water, it won’t be a good day. There are innumerable ways to get snuffed out up here, and nature doesn’t care. Definitely not for the meek of heart.

A word about the Outback and the Aborigines who live there. Australia did to its natives what the U.S. did to its – destroyed their culture, moved them from beautiful places where they’d lived in complete harmony with nature for eons and corralled and condemned them into completely worthless and desolate places where no one else would ever want to be. It was really sad to see the level of poverty in the Outback settlements and road houses where I stopped for fuel and food – people dressed in filthy, tattered clothes, with no shoes, looking completely forlorn but, like in the States, clutching cell phones. They – the original inhabitants and stewards of this great continent – were clearly not happy campers. It’s such a strange juxtaposition, and suggests that after performing cultural lobotomies on these poor folks, they’ve been given the drug of connectivity to make them forget about just how horrible their lives actually are.

Australia is a land of immense contrasts – cool and mountainous with precipitation on the east and southern coasts, scorched and barren in the Outback and western half, together with incredibly pristine beaches set against deep cobalt seas on every coast. The difference between east and west is that you can get to all the stunning beaches on the eastern and southern coasts. In the west, they’re almost completely inaccessible because of the lack of roads and population centers. Exploring the west coast by boat would be an amazing experience. Sir Francis Drake must have had a blast.

Here’s my path since landing in Perth and heading south to Margaret River before turning north. I’m glad I took this drive even though it was not very scenic, because the Great Northern Highway is rarely close to the coast (although it looks otherwise on maps, which distort because of distance and scale) and despite the fact that the temperatures and fierceness of the landscape were mind blowing. It’s a fascinating, otherworldly spot on the planet and its scale is, in a word, immense. Overall, very cool but if you come to Oz, I highly recommend the east coast all the way from Cains in the north to Adelaide in the south. There’s so much to see there, together with incredible culture, and the grandeur and beauty of those places is truly extraordinary.

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Some photos of Darwin last evening. This is a really nice town / city. I was here three years ago and enjoy being back. What’s fascinating is that 140,000 people live here now and it’s literally thousands of miles from everywhere else in Australia – just a lone outpost that the Aussies decided to build and expand for commerce and which the Japanese bombed and invaded in World War II. You’d never know you’re in the absolute middle of nowhere if you flew in. It’s lush and green, being in the sub-tropical zone, and the vibe is very laid back. The end of the road, so to speak. Here are some shots taken down on the harbor yesterday afternoon.

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Well, it’s time to bid Australia adieu for now. I’m off to Bali later today. Looking forward very much to seeing that jewel.

 

 

 

Well, then….

Things have gotten interesting and I’ve experienced a bit of a revelation the past several days. I knew that the west coast of Australia was big, having driven around much of the rest of the country and having looked at maps of this side of the continent countless times, but I really didn’t fully grasp just how frickin’ enormous it really is until now. The scale of vastness here make Utah and Nevada seem crowded and cramped. Really.

I started northward in Margaret River and arrived in Broome today, 3,471 kilometers later, racking up 2,152 miles so far, and I still have 1,161 miles ahead of me before I reach Darwin, from where I’ll begin the southeast Asian part of the journey.

Most folks who know me know that I love to drive. That’s probably a really big understatement. The stories are many – and many of them are crazy – but there’ something about the open road and visiting places I’ve never been that completely enthralls me. Well, on the west coast of Oz, you drive and drive and then drive lots more. Then you gas up and keep on  truckin’. Settlements, and gas stations or roadhouses, as they’re known here, are extremely spread out and few and far between. You fill up whenever you see one so that you don’t end up like the roadside skeletons dotting the way who ran out of gas or water or couldn’t quite get out of the way of a fast-moving vehicle.

What’s even more interesting is that in order to hit the extremely infrequent beach towns, you have to drive a hundred to two hundred miles off of The Great Northern Highway, making the journey that much longer.

If the scenery is interesting, or better yet, compelling, I’m good with doing that. Here, so far however, it has been bleak, vast and incredibly hot and inhospitable. The air feels like a blowtorch all day long. No doubt that’s why so few people have settled here compared to the east and southern coasts, which have mountains, forests and cooling precipitation.

Western Australia has been a resource extracting asset for the country for centuries, and a number of the largest natural resource and mining companies on Earth are Aussie. In a sense, it’s a good thing that the natural resource-rich areas here are in places that you’d never want to live. The unspoiled parts of Australia, and they are countless elsewhere, including Tasmania, would be very difficult to rip apart and tear up in order to extract and sell Oz’s resources to the world.

Someone driving a very big rig needs new tires….

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So there you have it – a long and circuitous journey with some beautiful and very remote beach towns tucked away like hidden jewels on the Indian Ocean and hundreds and hundreds of miles in between all of them.

Broome, where I arrived today, is in what’s known as The Kimberly Region – way up north and filled with national parks. What I’ve found is that the natural wonders  here are pretty much canyons and caverns. They go down, not up, and my strong preference when thinking of scenery is mountains and the sea, preferably both together.

OK –  I’m off to take some photos. Be back in a bit.

Early evening on the beach:

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These folks were having their own private party, complete with lights:

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Then it got interesting.

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Give up? Here’s a closer look.

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Camels on Cable Beach at sunset are a long-standing tradition here in Broome that was started by a chap after converting to Islam and crossing the Outback by camel. Whoa….

Anyway, I’m off to The Kimberly en route to Darwin. Supposed to be filled with adventure and amazing scenery. We’ll see about that…

Chill Zone

Today marks day four (I think) since taking FLIGHT. Commotion and haste have transformed into powerful forms of chill and relaxation.

Here’s the gravitational pull and mantra heading north out of Margaret River:

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Right now I’m in Shark Bay at the minute outpost of Monkey Mia Dolphin Resort. Beyond the beyond, so to speak, and quite warm  for late spring here – 96F.  The nearest town is over 200 miles away. It’s really out there, mate. North to south on this rendering is over 600 miles…

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I’ve pushed north from Margaret River and Perth through a vast space that toys with scale and measurement. Clicking off a hundred miles up here means passing no towns or settlements – or gas – just meandering on the coast, then inland, then back to the dazzling sea.

After reaching Geraldton, the largest town between Perth and Darwin that prides itself on exporting local grain and seafood, I decided to push further north. Several hours later I managed, through a bit of luck and a last minute recon, to catch the sun setting on Kalbarri National Park’s sandstone cliffs. Sublimely beautiful.

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Last night was spent in Kalbarri, a delightfully small fishing and tourism town next to the national park. It’s really nice that I’m in the shoulder season of mid spring now – almost all places to stay have vacancies and the beaches and restaurants aren’t crowded. The beach and reef there in Kalbarri are pretty darned colorful. Shades are a must.

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Priorities matter in life. What more might you need when chillin’ out here?

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Colors and shapes bend the mind:

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What I’m finding is that it’s all about vastness and space here. Very different from the eastern and southern coasts I visited last trip, where millions live and towns touch each other almost everywhere. Different is good, and decompressing into the zeitgeist here has been fun. No rushing, just deep breaths and being very  much in the moment. And I though Marin was chill…..

Tomorrow morning will bring up-close connections with the bottle nose dolphins who call this place home. In the mean time, it’s happy hour here, so a bevy is most definitely in order…

 

 

 

 

 

 

Touching Down

The FLIGHT from San Francisco to Hong Kong was fourteen hours, but leaving just after midnight made sleeping pretty easy. We landed in Hong Kong at 6 am local time, and I hopped the MTR express train into the city.

Everything in Hong Kong appeared very sleek and very tranquil. The city boasts a million millionaires out of a population of seven million. I’m guessing that it’s the highest ratio in the world other than in the Gulf countries, but in Hong Kong, most folks earn their fortunes rather than being born into them. Eight months of protests and the end game posed by China have created a dangerous situation in the former British crown colony, and it’s hard to see how it will end well. All was well while I cruised around, which was a great way to start the trip

Umbrella Protesters’ Statement:

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I was rather shocked that this statement of defiance hasn’t been removed by the authorities, as I’d seen it photographed several weeks ago.

Early morning skyline:

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My breakfast before being plated. Poor guys.

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I only spent the day in Hong Kong, and it was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday during the past eight months of increasingly violent weekend protests. Perhaps the cat and mouse game that’s being played out each weekend is entering a new phase.

I left Hong Kong for Perth late afternoon and was really excited to get back to where my last trip ended – there and in Freemantle / Freo. By the time I landed and found my hotel, I wasn’t sure what day it was (I had no idea what time it was). I awoke to light this morning and realized that it was 5 am. Yikes – I think I slept four hours after hurting through space for twenty one in steel tubes.

Although it meant heading south out of Perth only to have to retrace my route northward, I decided to check out Margaret River, which is about 180 miles down the coast from Perth. The drive south was really nice, and getting used to driving on the left (wrong) side of the road again took a bit of focus, especially when entering the countless roundabouts on the drive. Natural instinct guides you right when approaching vehicles get close, so it’s a brain tease to prevent yourself from doing what you do at home in traffic.

Roadside art on an industrial building en route to Margaret River:

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I pulled into Margaret River, world famous for its wine and surf, early this afternoon. Having driven from Perth without a map or GPS because it was too late to buy a SIM card at the airport and no stores were open till 11 am today (Sunday), I kind of followed the sun and directional instinct, which worked fine. After arriving, I met Keith downtown at his bookstore and ended up chatting with him for quite a while. Great guy who was extremely knowledgeable about the west coast of Oz, and he sold me an excellent map and gave me the lay of the local land, drawing his own map to get me on my way.

I love the serendipity of travel. Keith was, by coincidence, wearing a Sausalito T shirt, and when I told him that I lived fifteen minutes away, he proceeded to tell me about his one year trip to the States in 1968, when he landed in San Francisco and was invited to a concert and ended up watching Janis Joplin and Big Brother and the Holding Company tear the roof off of the Fillmore West.  Talk about perfect timing…..

Margaret River is a really charming small town that teems with Perth residents in the summertime and holidays, which is right around the corner, as summer starts here in a matter of weeks.. Today it was quite chill, and after I found a place to stay and had lunch, I decided to hit the beach. Cowabunga, dude:

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Aussies’ reverence for the beach is all consuming. If you’re not out on your board catching rides, you and your family are camped out watching the fun. Aussies are inextricably connected to the sea. It infuses them and its love is reflected in everything they do.

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Surfer’s Point, on the coast where Margaret River meets the Indian Ocean, is a legendary and religious shrine to Aussies. It breaks left and right over a reef, up to 15′ in giant tubes, year round. Hanging out there this afternoon was an incredibly special treat. The scene was so cool because the folks on the beach watching the surfers were having just as much fun, and were just as serious, as those in the water. It’s an amazing yin and yang energy flow that completely drew me in and was really hard to step away from hours later.

Looking northward:

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Are Aussies serious about surfing? You betcha, mate.

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Late afternoon:

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Long but really fun day. Time to chill and get some sleep. Tomorrow starts the northward-ho trek, 2,700 miles along the west coast to Darwin, a fantastic town on Australia’s northern coast that I’m looking forward to seeing again. Lots to see on the way, and I can’t wait to start poking around.

 

Adventures Down Under…… and Elsewhere

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Parts unknown beckon once again. Since my last trip to Australia, I’ve been daydreaming about getting back and seeing many of the places I didn’t visit but wanted to. That would be the west coast, from Perth and environs, including Margaret River, northward to Darwin.

For reference, here’s my route on the last go-around:

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This will be a 2,700 or so mile jaunt over three weeks. After that, I’ll be meandering through Southeast Asia for five weeks. Lots of places and ideas, and it will pretty much be a free-form adventure through Hong Kong, Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, Taiwan, South Korea and Japan.

Here’s the planned route for Oz, hugging the west coast until the road pushes inland towards the top of the continent:

Screen Shot 2019-10-17 at 8.07.16 AMThe journey begins October 31st. Looking forward to getting back on the road and blogging the trip.

Movin’ On…. Waaah

Another day in paradise / Freo, but unfortunately my last in Australia. I’m packing up and flying back to Marin tonight, which I’m really excited about, but I must say that I’m terribly sad to be leaving Oz. I feel safe in saying, today, that this has been one of the best trips I’ve ever taken, and I’ve been around the block a bit.

Australia is magical in so many ways – geography, weather, ocean and mountains, its people and its entire vibe. Comparisons with the States are inevitable, so here goes if you’re interested – Australia is far more civilized than the States. I didn’t meet, or see one person in my five weeks of travel here raise their voice or act in a rude or nasty manner towards anyone else. That includes adults and their children, who are astoundingly chilled and well-behaved compared to many I’ve seen back home.

In the States, a lot of people act as though they’re being put upon constantly (and many, in fact, are) – ground down under the pressures of work, family, life, etc. I never saw or felt that down under. People smile all the time, are cheery and super friendly, and it absolutely is not an act. It’s just the way everyone is here because life is so darned good. Wouldn’t you like to hit the beach and surf every day, for goodness’ sake, before heading off to the office or whatever else you’re doing? I sure would, and am gonna adopt the Aussie way of living and being happy and grateful all the time back in Marin. Shouldn’t have sold my surfboard last year, but another with my name on it most assuredly awaits…

The disparity in wealth and the two and three income workers so common in the States doesn’t appear to exist in Australia. People work one job, are paid well, have ample vacation time (and travel very widely) and don’t pay for many of the things Americans must – higher education, medical care and retirement (superannuation, as it’s called in Australia, is akin to the days when American companies paid pensions (remember that word?) to their employees, as in a defined benefit plan, without the employee having to fund them and stress over how they’ll be able to live in retirement). It works really well, and it’s wonderful. Do shareholders and senior management make a killing? Likely not, but that’s not what life is all about here. We could definitely take a lesson or ten from the Aussies here. Life is short, and I’ve never believed that we’re born to work until we drop dead. Not for me, mate. I totally get Australia’s values and paradigm, and absolutely love them.

These differences, I believe, make a huge difference to the fabric of life in both countries. In the States, people are consumed with obtaining and increasing wealth, and it is unfortunately, as we know,  a zero sum game. When the pie is redistributed, as it has so dramatically been over the past forty years in the States, there are most assuredly winners and losers. I believe that Donald Trump or someone like him could never appeal to as many people as he does if something very serious wasn’t wrong with the state of affairs back home.

I could go on and on, but another poignant difference is that people just aren’t disagreeable here. No one I met, and we met scores and scores of folks in our travels, acts as though you’re goring their ox if you disagree with them. It goes back to my core belief, forever, that you can disagree with others without being disagreeable. That is a bedrock reality here, but unfortunately not in the States. Another big difference is that people appear to be far closer to each other in wealth and income here than in the States. Venues, stadiums, beaches, parks, museums, restaurants and pretty much all the places that Aussies go are cheerfully shared and used by everyone in total harmony, and they’re beautiful places, all. In the States, there is an exclusivity about so many places. That kind of sucks for those who don’t or can’t go to them. This is a night and day difference – Aussies are all part of one big, happy team. In the States, many folks (some with bankrolls like the Yankees) with a lot of the pie live in a separate social and financial world, and don’t interact with vast numbers of their countrymen. That just can’t help but breed isolation and resentment. Think about it…

There, I’m off my soap box now… Time for fun recollections. Coogee Beach – ten miles south of Freo. The Surf Club there and everywhere (there’s one in every beach town) is a true community center – a really cool combination health club, gym, restaurant and place where everyone, old and young, hang out together in real happiness and camaraderie.

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“Come on in – the water’s great.” Whoa.

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Freo’s Shipwreck Museum. First one I’ve ever seen. Totally cool.

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It’s said that this bloke was dispatched by great whites deep down, after drowning, then pieced back together by the marine archeologists who found him long after his unfortunate demise.

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Dutch hull and Greek arch (huh?). Didn’t intuitively grasp the connection.

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On the Esplanade. Art is everywhere in Freo, and it’s fun and inviting.

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This was cast, no doubt, prior to the Elle McPherson era. Her doubles are everywhere down under. Amazing.

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Freo’s fishing fleet – serious stuff. The seafood is so fresh and good here. Now I know why.

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Neat story here. While walking out on Freo’s jetty and stopping for photos, I dropped my beloved Ray-Bans into the rocks. Down they went – 6 feet or more – and I couldn’t for the life of me even see a trace of them from where I stood and squirmed around, peering downward at every possible angle. Totally bummed, I kept at it, determined not to leave them to the sea. Finally, just before giving up and crying in my beer, I spied the very end of one of the earpieces. I headed back to a nearby shipyard and asked a fellow there if he had any stiff wire. “Of course, mate – be right back” was his reply. Five minutes later, I was back on the jetty and, miraculously, snagged my shades on the first try with the bent end of the baling wire we’d fashioned. That totally made my day, as the sun and water were super bright and I just didn’t want to say goodbye to my Aviators. A great rescue. Reminded me of my lifeguarding days on the beach out east…

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I didn’t know, and hadn’t heard, what a didgeridoo was until we strolled into this local shop where we chatted up the owner, bought boomerangs and learned that they are very large native wind instruments still widely used throughout the country. Cool.

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Back at my fave watering hole, again. What a neat name. No idea where it came from, but it must be a funny story.

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Well, I guess the trip is now a wrap. I’m sitting in Melbourne’s airport, having a terrific cup of coffee after flying from Perth last night (Aussies absolutely love their coffee and really know how to make it), waiting for my flights to LA and San Francisco. This journey has been absolutely fantastic, far exceeding my expectations in every way imaginable. I’m so glad that I came and experienced what I have.

Thanks to everyone for following me on this jaunt. It has really felt good to have the connection with friends and family back home these past five weeks, and I appreciate it greatly. I’m already planning my next adventure, and one thing is sure – I’ll be back down under – no question about it. Although I covered a lot of ground during my stay – over 12,000 miles by road and quite a bit more in the air, I feel that I’ve barely scratched Australia’s magnificent surface in terms of its fabulous geographic, social and cultural riches. G’day, mates. It’s been a blast, and I can’t wait till my next visit to Oz.

Cheers,

Rich

 

 

Oh, Freo…

Arrived in Perth Sunday night and headed to my hotel. Yesterday I woke up and poked around a bit before heading to Perth’s neighbor Fremantle (“Freo,” as locals affectionately call it), said by many to be the coolest town in Australia. That would be saying a lot, but it’s true, and I’ve seen a ton of cool towns on this trip.

Perth, early Monday morning. Really nice architecture and skyline, but cities are cities in many ways to me, so I was soon off to the beach. Itchin’ for some coastline again…

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Cottesloe Beach, ten minutes from downtown Perth. A big storm moved through yesterday with 12′ swells. Today, the wind changed to offshore, things calmed down a bit and lots of surfers were out there with big grins.

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Contemplating life. And the next ride…

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This dude was hands down the coolest guy I’ve met in a while. He had a shower with hot water in his SUV, so after ripping it up out there he rinsed off, changed into natty threads and headed to work. Brilliant, mate.

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Talk about a target-rich environment for photographing – Freo just blew me away. First stop was Fremantle Prison, opened in 1860 and closed in 1991. Yes – this medieval place stayed open until that recently. It was fascinating and chilling at the same time to visit the place, knowing how central to Australia’s history prisoners, convicts and their stories have always been. We had a terrific guide, whose knowledge of the place and story telling were totally enthralling.

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Convict Church. Funny how the Church of England tortured and tormented the Crown’s prisoners throughout the world for centuries, including extracting slave labor from them, yet always provided the balm of religion and its message that you are loved and God will always be beside you.

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Solitary confinement cell. Not a lot of room for stretching out here…

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Inside the cell of an artist convict, who was allowed to ply his trade in his new home. I assume that he bribed the guards or played their girlfriend…

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Death row cellblock. This cell was the last one you ever entered, for only two hours, the morning you met your maker at 8:00 am sharp in the gallows (don’t be late – it’s so impolite). The bucket beside the stool was for doing your (last) business. This cell’s starkness and raw power were absolutely chilling.

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More artwork, in an outside recreation area where the notorious 1988 prison riot was hatched.

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The gallows. No prisoner ever walked out of here. They were carried out in body bags after a shot of rum and the tightening of the noose sealed their fate. Wow – talk about focusing the mind…

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Back in town, out and about. This little girl was wailing seconds before, but was just adorable when I locked my lens on her.

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Totally tricked-out 1980 BMW R100S. Sweet ride. Chatted bikes with its owner for a while.

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Native art. Galleries in town are fantastic.

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Sidewalk marker.

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Architectural whimsy in the process of being born beside stately neighbors.

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Fremantle Battery and its original prison, overlooking the harbor. Man, these guys just loved locking people up.

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Slipping into the zeitgeist… Definitely not an enjoyable feeling.

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Say this three times fast. And I thought German was hard to pronounce.

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Mens’ Room at the Battery. Magnificent.

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Of what? Getting hit by a train?

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A professor and his students chillin’ at an outdoor cafe close to Notre Dame, a local university that gives Freo a terrific, youthful vibe.

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Peering inside a building on campus.

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Monument to Portugese explorers who helped found Fremantle. Didn’t know they were part of its story.

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The grand ferris wheel in Esplanade Park. This was big – each car held ten people.

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More native art. I felt as though she was calling out to me.

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Mark, the owner of a truly fantastic vinyl record store in town. Had to stop in and chat with him for a bit after hearing the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack album blasting from inside as we strolled by. Super guy.

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Lots of bikes in Freo.

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Little Creatures Brewing on Freo’s Esplanade. This VW pick up parked at the entrance really grabbed my attention, reminding me of Burning Girl, my 1978 VW Westy camper.

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Chris, our bartender. Fun guy.

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Freo folks just wanna have fun… Wish we were here for the fest. Wait – maybe we’ll just stay and wait a couple of weeks for it…

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View from Little Creatures’ rear patio.

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Two really fun local characters we chatted up for a bit. Both worked on the sea.

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Just loved that Vee Dub.

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Another fantastic day in a place I’ll definitely come back to. Make sure you see Fremantle if your travels take you down under. It truly rocks. Talk mañana…

 

 

So Long, Tassie

Yesterday was a travel day – Hobart to Sydney to Perth (flying from Hobart to Perth requires a layover in one of Australia’s other major cities), but we had the morning to kick around in Hobart. It’s such a charming town in every way – its location, architecture, setting beneath Kunanyi (ancestral name) / Mr. Wellington and the people make it fantastic. Decided to head up there – 4,176′ above town via a very steep and winding road, but first we took a stroll around the harbor and had breakfast.

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Breakfast restaurant. Fish for breakfast? You bet, mate.

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A little-known fact – Hobart is Lester’s ancestral homeland. And yes, that also makes him a Tasmanian Devil (but we knew that).

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Leaving the harbor, looking up towards Mt. Wellington.

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Half way up, and the weather’s perfect. Not for long.

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Winter bade a chilly hello as we climbed the road. This was only ten minutes from downtown’s harbor, where it was 60 degrees and sunny.

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Quite cold up top and pretty much completely socked in, so we headed down after a short stay.

Here’s a map of my travels in Tasmania. There’s so much more to see, so I’ll have to come back. It really is magical here, and they’ve kept it so pristine and inviting. See you next time, Tassie….

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Can I Stay, Please…

Yesterday was spent kicking around Tassie’s northern stretches and making our way, after two road detours due to storm wash outs (my weather timing after this weeks’ rain and snow storms was perfect), to Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park.

Along the drive to the Park, outside Launceston. It turns from big town to countryside in the blink of an eye.

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Indeed.

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These murals astounded me. They were in the middle of nowhere, painted on the sides of a hydro electric plant building. How someone managed to get them there on ribbed walls fifteen feet high was beyond me. Natural art surrounded by nature – nice.

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We had to turn around twice on really small back roads en route to the Park because of storm road damage and wash outs. Determined, we pushed on with good old-fashioned maps (no GPS or cell signals out there). The effort was so worth it – Cradle Mountain-Lake St. Clair National Park is really something to behold.

Approaching the Park. High alpine tundra.

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Surprise – me in front of the lens, captured by my crafty assistant.

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Our timing was fantastic – it was really socked in a half hour away, the peaks barely visible through thick clouds, and as we finished our hike, the weather quickly closed in again. When we arrived and during our stay, however, things were perfect. We’ve really been blessed weather-wise the past five weeks. Someone has been smiling down on us, for sure.

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Snow made the hike a bit slippery, but the woods and views were beautiful. Finally, it felt like winter down under.

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Alas, the hand of man appears starkly in Queenstown and its environs in the form of mineral mining. Mountains laid low in a place where nature rules supreme is a shock, but reality often intrudes unexpectedly.

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Heading back to Hobart, late afternoon, through Tassie’s gorgeous lake country.

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Another terrific day. Tasmania is incredibly special. I hope to come back on my next visit down under. There’s so much more to see, and the people are so warm and engaging here, that returning is a must.

Off to Perth and Fremantle tomorrow. Urban drama – should be fun.