Hello old friend we meet again. I’m sitting in the departures hall surrounded by people speaking languages I don’t understand. Happy travellers returning home or starting their next adventure?
Check in and security completed with a minimum of fuss, although note to self – the boots with the metal trims? Don’t wear them next time! Rooky error! I’ve streamlined my packing and look smuggly at those who are wrestling with their hand luggage to get out all the liquids while I pop my prepackaged plastic ziplock in the tray. Hazar! Travel Ninga status restored
I have 90 more minutes to waste and I’m wishing I hadn’t had that extra glass of cheap wine to help me sleep! My stomach is a little squeamish. Is that nerves or a hangover. Both, no doubt. I do hope it isn’t the slightly under heated lamb shank I had last night at the hotel.
How things have changed in the years since I took my first international flight. That flight, to Italy, was my first time ever on a plane. It was January 1982. After leaving Sydney we stopped in Melbourne then Perth then Singapore then Bahrain, and finally Rome. Mechanical repairs at Bahrain meant we sat on the tarmac for six hours, air con off, no food, no water. Thirty. six. hours. Thirty of those confined to a tiny seat. Thankfully I was small and could curl up cat-like. Thankfully, I was travelling with someone I could lounge against without concern. The invisible force field surrounding the chair could be extended – a little. The toilets became blocked. The plane remained in that state until we got off in Rome.
Back in those days international travel was a novelty. At least for my family and friends who hailed from more or less working class roots. My brother had been to London a couple of years before but unless you count Lord Howe Island, my parents had never left Australia. The ex’s dad worked for Qantas, so his family flew frequently on staff tickets. Cheap travel sure, but you didn’t count your chickens until the door was closed and cross checked because you could get off loaded if another paying passenger needed the seat.
“Seeing a friend off” was a social occasion. Your friendship group would drive you to the Airport and as payment, you would shout them a few drinks at the Airport Bar before racing to the gate. I don’t remember if there was any security screening but I do remember that your friends could come right up to the departure gate where there were many teary goodbyes.
In 1982 the decor vibe was timber paneling and 70’s orange. Since then, it’s undergone many, many renovations. Every time I come here there are hoardings covering up more promised improvements. It’s bright and airy with charging points and interesting seating nooks. Tom Hanks’ character could live here quite happily.
It’s beginning to brighten up outside as Sydney starts it’s day. Jets have started to leave as the curfew is lifted. Come on Iain, it’s time to move to the gate.
“It’s too hot up here for White Pointers. They don’t like the hot water” Natalie said with the confidence of a local. She’s lived in North Queensland all her life so she should know. Guy laughed quietly as he continued to trim the greenery for a bouquet he was building.
“The winters here are stunning” he said. “The water is clear, the humidity is gone and there is less chance of stingers”
I’m here in mid-January and the temperature has hovered in the high 20’s dropping (!) to 23 overnight. The humidity remains a constant 69%. Summer was doing it’s tropical best! Water temperature averages out at 28C
Natalie says that anything under 20C and she has a jumper on! Natalie and Guy run the Floral Collection on Front Street and are just two of the friendly people willing to share their story with me as I went from shop to shop in Hamilton Island.
There are not many shops on Hamilton Island. The retail section runs along the Marina. There are a few restaurants/bars, the pub, a post office, an IGA supermarket, a pharmacy, the Bakery, a pizzeria, fish and chip shop, and four clothing boutiques, The dive shop, at least two art galleries, the souvenir shop, a real estate agent, marina admin, cruise office and water sport hire round it off. There is also a private College which seems a bit of an oddity. The resort hotel complex has a spa and another boutique/souvenir store as well. The prices are not too bad, considering. Considering it’s a captive audience and the lack of competition.
There are a few exclusive accomodation options that have there own restaurant but a school teacher has no business messing with those places!
Front Street is crowded with golf buggies, the only form of transport for hire. These electric buggies are limited to the Island’s maximum speed of 20kph. Their pace matches the pace of the people on the island. This is a holiday island not the place for an adventure! The surrounding landscapes are stunning and the tropical heat and humidity lull you into a lazy haze very quickly.
Over the last few days I have settled into the routine of an early morning coffee watching the busy-ness of the marina, while guarding my food from the clever birds who will swipe your banana bread as soon as look at you.
I watch as the early ferry drops off construction and resort workers coming in from the mainland. Then as the tourists begin to board for shore excursions to Airlie Beach or the Reef. I watch the yachties take their provisions for the week in little trolleys along the narrow docks. I watch the planes take off and land on the runway that seems too short. It’s quiet but not silent. The low hum of boats motoring out of the harbour and the flutter of helicopters an almost constant backdrop of sound broken occasionally by the buzzing of a reversing buggy.
Jarryd from the Marina Tavern told me most “hospo” workers live on the island in subsidised accommodation which on the whole is very comfortable depending on how much you want to spend. Jarryd has been on the Island for a few years and hales from the Albury-Wodonga area at the NSW-Victorian border. The Chef has been there for 5 years and loves Island living. The Island workers’ families can attend the State run primary school which has less than 60 students and 4 teachers. Secondary School students need to head off to the mainland to Proserpine High School.
I stopped to ask one of the HI-VIS clad workers about the best place to get a shot of a plane landing on that short runway. He’s been coming to the Island by ferry every work day since 1986. He’s seen a lot of changes since then. Originally a privately owned farm, Hamilton Island was developed by Keith Hamilton as a resort in 1975. It is now 100% owned by 21st Century Resort Holdings. In 2017,it was significantly damaged by Cyclone Debbie although there is little evidence of that now.
Don’t come for the extreme sports.
Don’t come to Hamilton Island if you are looking for an adventure packed itinerary. Come here if you are looking for a family friendly, high end resort holiday. Swimming (in the pool because of the risk of stingers in the sea), sailing, fishing, eating, drinking and resting. There are some opportunities for more active pursuits such as kart racing, jet ski hire and 4WD buggies. The island is small (5 x 3.5 km) but there are a few short walks that take you to some spectacular view points. I’d recommend the walk up to Passage Peak. There are lots of steps and according the information board it’s the most challenging walk on offer.The views make it worth it. At the very top you stand on a rocky granite outcrop which towers above the surrounding landscape. The breeze cools your sweaty body and as you turn slowly on your heel you can take in 360o of magic turquoise water studded with green islands.
Who comes to Hamilton Island?
The marina here is the largest in all of the Whitsunday group of islands so it’s a starting point for sailors and yachties. Boats come and go all day. Families with younger children and a few teenagers are the predominant group. Honeymooners and wedding parties also make up a significant chunk of the population. There are some international visitors but from my rough observations they are in the minority. Given it’s the long summer break from school here in Australia, that’s not surprising. The scales may be in the other direction in the Northern Hemisphere’s summer. It would be an great destination for a few days away for the “girl’s weekend” or a ‘significant” birthday. There are several flights in and out every day and the ferry crosses from Shute Harbour on the mainland several times a day. It’s clean, tidy and there is an overwhelming feeling of affluence. I am here on grandma duty so I can’t comment on the nightlife, but sunset cocktails at One Tree Hill is a family friendly experience not to be missed.
…And about those jellyfish…
Australia has its fair share of biting things that have the potential to kill you. It’s all about risk management. The likelihood is low but the consequence is extreme. Irukandji are small, transparent jellyfish that cause extremely painful and in some cases life threatening stings. They are cousins to the much larger, more deadly Box Jellyfish. Jellyfish are apparently more of a problem when there is a northerly wind blowing and after heavy rains when they are washed down into the ocean from the breeding grounds in the estuaries. The Island’s management recommend you wear a stinger suit which is essentially a very thin wetsuit if you want to swim in the ocean.
Taking the plunge…
As I sat on the back step of the catamaran, I surveyed the inviting blue water. There were five other boats moored in the same area off Whitehaven Beach. No-one else was swimming. What seemed like a good idea at the time, became to me, more and more risky the longer I sat there. The jellyfish were not going to be a problem as I was suited up, it was the idea of sharks that got me worried. Would a lone swimmer splashing about become a shark’s easy lunch? Be invincible not invisible I shouted in my own head. I dove into the water and adjusted my mask. I swam a few metres and floated awhile. The nearby fringe reef suddenly seemed much too far away. I had overcome my fear – I had done enough – I was wet! I could get out now!. I scrambled back on board, heart beating a little faster.
I should have spoken to Natalie before I went swimming! Let’s hope someone told the sharks to carry a thermometer!
You can find out more about the details of getting to Hamilton Island and where to stay on their excellent website.
I prepared this post on my IPad. I’m never happy with the image options on the app version of WordPress and will fix them up when I get back home!
In April this year, I took a trip to the USA. I took two completely different routes: the Fast Lane and the Maine Road. Three weeks in New York, a city that’s always open and humming, book-ended a five day road trip to Maine, which I discovered, was mostly “closed-for-the-season”.
My plan for Maine was to take in few hikes in Acadia National Park, do some serious lighthouse spotting and sample authentic lobster rolls in their natural setting. I knew it would be a bit chilly but that didn’t matter after all, spring had sprung!
It should have twigged as I was tried to book accommodation. Most of the AirBnB listings said they were unavailable for the dates I was trying to book. I naively thought they must be just be very busy. I kept scrolling until I found someone taking bookings. I ignored the small print; “We re-open on April 14th” I would be there from April 7 – April 11th. A few days shouldn’t make that much difference? Should it?
Being from the mild subtropics, I didn’t understand how comprehensively closed everything in Maine would be. The larger cities of Portsmouth and Portland were business as usual, but the small beach-side towns in between, were in fact, “closed” except for the local grocers and a few cafes. In the end, this only added to the appeal of an impossibly “Pinterest” worthy coastline which I enjoyed without crowds. My loves for quiet hiking, quaint architecture and lighthouses were well served. The iconic lobster roll, on the other hand, was well and truly off the menu as a summer only delicacy.
Day 1: New York, New York to Kittery, Maine. (454 km)
Picking up the rental car from Laguardia Airport on a Saturday morning was a good idea. I missed the weekday traffic heading out of the city and I got a better deal compared to getting it in Manhattan. I caught the M60 bus bus from Harlem and then the free shuttle bus from the airport concourse to the rental car office.
Once on the road, it was a compromise between the scenic coastal route and getting to Kittery before dark. I headed east through Connecticut and Rhode Island, turned North on the I395 at New London up to Worcester, Massachusetts, then through New Hampshire and finally Kittery, Maine.
Six states in less than a day! Trying doing that in Australia!
My first attempt to photograph a lighthouse was foiled by a gated estate! I could see the Old Saybrook Breakwater Lighthouse on the headland, but couldn’t figure out how to get to it as it was surrounded by private homes and a large golf course with big warning signs!
The tiny town of Kittery, on the New Hampshire-Maine border is the oldest town in Maine. Already around 5 pm by the time I arrived, I just managed to snag photos of the sun setting behind a bridge that looked just like the Sydney Harbour Bridge (the Piscataqua River Bridge). My accommodation for the night, a stylish AirBnB was right on the banks of the Piscataqua River. I chose to stay on the Kittery side because it was considerably cheaper than the Portsmouth side. An easy stroll across the Memorial Bridge took me into the commercial heart of Portsmouth within a few minutes so no harm done by saving money. I wandered around the quiet streets, looking for food and settled on Fat Belly’s Bar and Grill because it looked friendly and cosy. Turns out they make a mean veggie burger and serve nice cold wheat beer!
Kittery – Oldest Town in Maine
The Bridge across the Piscataqua River on the Border of Maine and New Hampshire
Sunset in Plymouth
Piscataqua River Bridge 1
Memorial Bridge – Plymouth
Warren’s Lobster House – closed!
Enjoying a wheat beer at Fat Belly’s
Day 2: Kittery to Mt Desert (360 km)
The next morning I headed out for the Whaleback Lighthouse on Kittery Point and discovered it must be the chicken’s day off!
My first attempt at a lobster roll was at Lobster Cove, York.
“No, honey” the waitress said, “NOT at this time of year!” Eyes rolling as if I should have known better. No lobster in Lobster Cove?
Empty car parks with massive capacity and tourist shops with boarded windows made it obvious that this town was used to big crowds. I was one of the few who braved the weak spring sunshine and the stiff wind that held squawking gulls in one spot, despite their flapping wings.
Meh…I am not much into shopping and the scenery was still open, so I was happy!
The Nubble Lighthouse at Cape Neddick was resplendent and Ogunquit quaint beyond belief with adirondack chairs chained to scenic spots. The main inconvenience? Closed shops = closed public toilets!
As I headed further north the piles of deep snow became more frequent and I kept my jacket-gloves-scarf-hat combo at the ready.
Old Orchard Beach reminded me of an aging, overblown gigolo with its fairground, ferris wheel and tall-legged wooden pier. The temperature reminded me of Antarctica!
Once again – no lobster roll.
“No Ma’am” pffffft… “only in the summer!”
I made good with half a sandwich and soup. I’d been in America long enough to know a ½ sandwich would be enough!
Old Orchard Beach Pier
Clams on Old Orchard Beach
Giant pippies – Old Orchard Beach
Shut up tight!
I picked up groceries for my two night stay on Mt Desert Island and settled in for a frosty night in a old colonial cabin right on the edge of the Acadia National Park.
Day 3: Acadia National Park and Bar Harbor.
Another early start had me crunching along the snow covered carriageway, past logs dripping in icicles and the rustling of turkeys hidden somewhere in the scrub. Acadia National Park had been described to me as one of the most beautiful parks in America but it was here that my (wilful) ignorance of the seasonal closures proved to be the most inconvenient.
The Park has a loop road, the majority of which was closed. I was restricted to a few limited sections. This did not deter me from a long walk around Eagle Lake after jumping a low fence. I had a lingering guilt that I had not paid the entrance fee suspecting I should have, to someone, somewhere, even though the booths were closed. I half expected to find my wheels clamped when I got back to the car.
It was sunny and -6ºC. I was well dressed with thermals, fleecy hiking pants, a merino wool jumper, goose down jacket, woolly socks, two pairs of gloves, scarf, balaclava and beanie.
This Aussie knew there was no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes! I picked my way through the snow like the Michelin Man, feeling a tad overdressed when some locals walked past in three less layers than me. After three hours walking around Eagle Lake, I headed into the town of Bar Harbor for lunch. This time I was determined to find the now elusive lobster roll. Haven’t they heard of a freezer up here? Five cafes and another hour later, I settled for – you guessed it – soup and ½ a sandwich.
My little mascots! Frozen!
Darn it’s cold!
Bubble Rocks – Acadia National Park
Day Four: Bar Harbor to Portland. (260 km)
Today was the day for “THE lighthouse”. The Bass Point Light which perches on craggy, often snow covered rocks with frozen waterfalls bedecking the plinth on which it sits. On attempt No 1 I found the carpark alright, but couldn’t find a path down to the rocks below. I figured that you could only reach it by boat. The boat tours, were of course, “closed for the season”. Never mind, I thought, next time I’m in Maine! I headed off to a nearby town for a warming coffee at Sips Cafe. I told the cafe owner about my predicament and she kindly explained where the path was:
“From the car park, look to your left. Find the dirt path hidden behind the toilets and follow it down as far as you can go.”
At attempt No 2, THE lighthouse mission was accomplished. Tick! Another photography subject off the bucket list!
Next, another hike took me around Wonderland followed by the Jordan Pond Shore Trail (Acadia NP) before hightailing it back to Portland for the sunset. Low clouds and a pink sky gave a perfect backdrop for the Portland Head Light at Cape Elizabeth
My night’s lodging, an AirBnB in Preble Street, was a large, rambling early 20thC Eastlake and Stick style home, with six bedrooms, several bathrooms, a pool room, a music room, a huge kitchen and at least three cats. The owner had texted me from Mexico, with the code to open the door and insisted I make myself at home. So I did; by having a good (but respectful) poke around looking at all the art and artifacts which covered nearly every surface. After a busy day walking and driving I was happy to snuggle up and read a book I had found on the shelf eating Italian take away with one of the super friendly cats on my lap. By this time, I had abandoned the idea of lobster entirely and was extolling the virtues of AirBnB via Facebook to my friends back in Oz.
Day 5: Portland to New York.
With a late flight out, I had all day to take in Portland and started off with a self-guided architectural walking tour around the Weston Boulevard neighbourhood before heading downtown to check out the Art Gallery.
Portland, Maine is a town full of beards and while apparently not as Hipster (with a capital H) as Portland, Oregon it certainly had a small h hipster feel to it. The Sisters Gourmet Deli, a case in point. Fabulous food with modern (retro) styling.
A different kind of street art
In original condition?
Buglight – Portland
The Old Portland cemetery
Architecture walk Portland
Three more lighthouses, the Bug Lighthouse, the Spring Point Ledge Lighthouse and the Ram Island Ledge Light finished things off nicely before I headed out to the airport for my flight back to New York.
You’ll be pleased to know, I finally got a lobster roll. A mini one; as part of High Tea at the Plaza Hotel in New York. It was OK but I’m kinda glad it was only mini sized!
Over-rated; lobster, if you ask me…
As it turns out, the “season” re-opens mid-April, so perhaps it would have been better if I had gone a week later when the Park was fully open. But then I would have missed the ice and snow and the beaches which I shared with those squawking, stationary gulls.
I spend $AUD18 a week buying Lotto, Powerball and lottery tickets. Every week, when I go to the newsagent to check my tickets, I have that little knot of hope sitting in my belly. Maybe this time?
The $18 per week is the sum total of my gambling vice. I figure I can afford it and it’s a bit of fun so I don’t feel too guilty. I can justify it easily. I take a packed lunch to work every day. I don’t buy coffee every day. If I did, that would be $19 per week for the coffee alone! See! The lottery tickets are a bargain!
I have, of course, spent more than I have won. My daughter tells me I buy lottery tickets because of my working class background. Apparently, rich people don’t buy lottery tickets. They gamble in more respectable ways like the stock market or horse racing.
I don’t want to win a lot. $3 or 4 million would be plenty! I certainly don’t want to win one of those super Powerball prizes of $30 million or more! Of course, if I did, I wouldn’t be handing it back, but I don’t need it.
I don’t want to live an extravagant life. You know from my previous blog posts that I try not to be a thoughtless consumer. I just want to be able to quit the day job so I can write, travel and take photos!
I don’t want a buy a mansion with a pool or a pool room for that matter. I don’t want a Maserati. I don’t want to fly first class. (Hang on a minute, maybe that’s one thing I do want!)
I want to win just enough to pay off my current mortgage, buy a small investment property that I could rent out as a source of reliable income and then have enough spending money leftover for a relatively comfortable and creative life. That’s not too much to ask, is it?
Let’s see: with the mortgage out of the way and keeping my living standard at its current level; with a life expectancy of 30 more years, allowing for two overseas trips per year, a new car in 10 years, and a bit of a contingency fund for new appliances and furniture when the current ones wear out or break – how much do I need? A few calculations later and not allowing for inflation or interest earned, I figure I need $2.8 million. Therefore, $3-4 million is an appropriate goal.
I just need to win!
Don’t worry, IF I did win the big one, I have it all worked out. I will buy a number of properties that I would rent to lower income families for a very moderate rate. These people would be strugglers. The people Australians call “Battlers”. Honest, hardworking folk who are being left behind in this current housing market. There would be a catch to their lower rent, however. They would need to agree to volunteer for a community organisation for a negotiated number of hours per week. The time would be dependent on their other responsibilities but they would need to have a regular commitment to being a volunteer. They would do good. They would feel good. I would feel good! I would need to hire some people to make this happen because I would be too busy writing, travelling and taking photos!
I like to have challenges and goals in my life. Not crazy big scary ones but challenges that contribute to my physical and mental wellbeing. Things like no (added) sugar for a month, no alcohol for 100 days.
Past challenges have included:
200 new experiences: In 2010, I worked out it was 200 days till my 50th birthday. I was in a bit of a slump and decided to set myself a 200-day challenge. My daily goal was to do something new every day. I wrote a (now private) blog about my progress. The “new” things didn’t need to be big and could be as simple as trying a new recipe. Regardless, some days it was still a struggle, but it took me from a low ebb to riding the crest of a happiness wave as I toured France. You can read a bit more about this challenge here.
No new things: From June 2017 – July 2018 (the Australian financial year) I challenged myself to buy no new things. There were rules and provisos if essential items wore out or broke down. I wrote about that in this blog post.
Capsule Wardrobe: I am currently trying to do a version of Project 333 (you can read about Project 333 here). I put together a capsule of around 40 items to wear to work for a period of 10 weeks. I have managed better than I thought I would and to date have not worn every piece I selected. I intend to do it again for another ten weeks from October to December.
Run faster: Another current goal is to cut my time for a 10 km run to below 55 minutes. My best time so far is 57:05. I hope to fulfill that goal before then end of November.
Not satisfied with one challenge I am toying with the idea of a 60 before 60 challenge. I’ll be 60 in 2021 and that’s about 32 months away. I am working on a list of 60 things to do before I turn 60. Unfortunately, I don’t have access to unlimited time or money, so not all the “things” can cost money or involve travel. Each “thing” cannot be an epic adventure! I did think about putting winning the lottery on the list but that’s not a SMART goal or a smart idea!
Here’s my list so far – in no particular order of priority. It’s not sequential and I don’t have to do a particular number of tasks per month. Some activities could be bundled. So for instance I have included sell some of my photos and have a photographic exhibition. This could very well happen at the same time. I am giving myself till the end of November to tweak it. After that I will print the ideas out on nice cards and move them from a to-do pile to a done pile.
Make a will
Pay extra off my current mortgage
Sell some of my writing
Earn at least $5000 through Old Chook Enterprises
Sell some of my photos
Hit at least 1000 followers on WordPress (help me out here guys!!)
Hit at least 500 followers on Instagram (help needed here too!!) @robynlang3
At least one overseas trip (Choose from Iceland or Scotland)
Go on a another cruise (6 – 10 days)
Learn enough Italian to have a short conversation
Make a 15-minute documentary that gets some success (define success!)
Finish the Buttons story (a sci-fi themed novella I am writing 4 our of 9 chapters done)
Visit at least 15 more light houses in Australia. (I like lighthouses and want to see as many Australian ones as I can – there are more than 2000 so it might be a stretch to see them all!)
Day in the life photography series for at least 4 people – follow 4 people in different occupations and photograph their day
Do an extraordinary man series. An environmental portrait project.
I’d like to do more photography like this – environmental portraits.
Make a soufflé
Set up a worm farm
Do a big >2500 piece jigsaw puzzle
Started the jigsaw
Sell all my 2019 calendars (help me out here too!!)
Publish a 2020 calendar
Do another year of no new things in 2020.
Stop dying my hair and embrace the grey!
Get my first paid article published.
Try being an AirBnB host
Finish a short course in food photography
Publish a cookbook of family favourites with my own photography
Do a short online graphics design course
Do some more light painting (October 2018)
Pitch an article to a real magazine/publication (see point 49)
Do an interview on radio/TV about something to do with Old Chook Enterprises
Create a passwords spreadsheet
Get a new phone
Modify the design and remake the running belt you made. A lycra belt to wear while running that holds my phone/keys and tissues etc. I have already made one but it needs some modifications.
Write a children’s picture book
Win a writing competition
Win a photography competition
Enter some photos in the Royal Easter Show (a big fair in Sydney, Australia)
Go on a writing retreat.
Do another cheese making course
Design some fabric to make some cushions for my home
Have a 60th birthday celebration
There are more than 60 I know. I’d really like a list of around 80 so I can pick and choose based on time and budgetary issues. I also need to decide if I can add and subtract things from the list. What happens if I come up with a really good idea? I think I may have to have a one in – one out rule.
You never know, perhaps I will win the lottery and then all the other bucket list travel destinations can be added for one massive around the world extravaganza!
 This is based on Gretchen Rubin’s 18 for 2018 idea. See Her Happiness podcast.
On further reflection, I think I have exceeded my actual disposable income by about 400% with this list, it’s good to be ambitious but….. 🙂
PS: I usually post on Fridays but I am experimenting with Tuesdays to see if it makes a difference to my stats.
I read an article about how the rise of the global tourist is killing Europe. It described how locals are being isolated and alienated in their own cities as bus loads of tourists arrive with their selfie sticks and cameras. Fresh off the cruise boat they don’t spend much, but they strip the place of its ambiance like a horde of locusts.
Am I a travel locust?
It was a slap in the face that I could not ignore.
It made me sad to think I could be part of a global problem, after all I have Do Iceland on my bucket list! Am I going to make it harder for the inhabitants? Will they get kicked out of their homes so I can rent a place on AirBnB? Will I be welcome? I have always felt that my tourist dollars were welcome. But at what cost? Sure I add to the local economy, but if it means the locals are unable to enjoy the amenity of their own home to the extent described by this article; I don’t want to be a part of that!
It got me thinking about my “travel values” and my “value as a traveller”. I generally travel solo although I have joined in on small group tours run by the likes of Intrepid and Peregrine. My impact must be lower than a cruise boat which docks with 2500 passengers for a few hours. It must; mustn’t it? I try not to exploit the locals by acting like the rich tourist who barters over the equivalent of 50 cents. That makes me an ethical traveller? Doesn’t it?
It’s time to examine my travel values. Here is an interview with my right shoulder guy (Reggie) and my left shoulder guy (Louie)
Why do you want to travel Louie? To experience new things and to learn about the world. To increase my knowledge of and therefore acceptance for, people different to myself. To decrease the boundaries between myself and “the other”.
Is that the only reason: Ok so there is a little bit of one-up-manship in there too. Also a bit of vanity publishing as evidenced by this blog. Listen Reggie we want to be famous! This is our fledgling side hustle here!
We don’t have to fly somewhere on a jet and add to carbon emissions to experience something new? That’s true. Perhaps we don’t. But we have our reputation as a budding photographer to consider here Reggie.
Ahh yes maybe? But Australia is an amazing place! Can’t you take fabulous photos here too? Yes we could but to travel for two weeks around Australia would cost us as much as four weeks in Asia and….
See there you go you are a hypocrite! It’s all about money! NO! It’s not! I want to be a mindful, thoughtful, considerate, intelligent traveller….
Yeah sure sure you do!
But I actually do.
What ARE my travel values?
To do no harm
To meet and talk to the people who live in a place as people not as photo opportunities.
To pay a fair price, not the lowest price.
To take time in one place. Quality not quantity of adventures.
To be active. Walk more, fly/drive less.
To add value by taking less than I give.
To get to know places well.
To make friends.
To be a good ambassador for my own culture/country.
My travel slate is clear for 2019 at this point in time. With a serious drought affecting all of my own home state, I think I might make it a year to travel local and see more of this Wide Brown Land. My dollar will do more good here than abroad.
By now you’ll know I am a bit of an experimenter! I am trying to find the best software to turn some of my photo books into flipbooks for viewing online. This one is from Yumpu. This is the free version. It was really easy to do but the view is very small and I don’t see a way of making it bigger. At present you can’t read the text in the stories but they are in this blog.
I had trouble loading it from my phone.
Sometimes this link works and sometimes it doesn’t! Not much of an experiment was it!
I got an email from Korean Airlines to tell me my flight the next day was going to be delayed by two hours. It was nice that they let me know. It was late on Boxing Day – a public holiday in Australia. Even though I knew the limo company would be closed, I sent them an email “just in case” to try and change the time of my airport transfer pick up. Thankfully, they got back to me and we agreed on a new time. Then I got another email from KAL to say the flight was going to be another two hours late. I didn’t want to muck the limo people around with another change so I just resigned myself to the fact that I would be at the airport SUPER early! My pick up would be eight hours before the flight. The transfer company has a policy of getting you to the airport 3 hours ahead of time because of the vagaries of Sydney traffic. It normally takes an hour to get to the airport and then check in, immigration clearance and the security check might use up another hour. I was looking at 6 hours to waste airside before boarding. Sigh!
I stepped out of the minibus and sniffed the air. I love that first whiff of AvGas when you are close to the airport. Apart from the fact you have suitcases in tow, and a passport in your hand, it’s proof you are going somewhere. The heady kerosene-like odour that tells you the tarmac and turbulence are not too far away.
The second clue you are travelling is the queue. As a seasoned traveller (LOL) I sometimes get impatient in these queues and run an internal commentary. Come on people!! You know you need photo ID to get your boarding pass. Get it out of your wallet before you get to the counter.You’ve just been standing in a line for the last 30 minutes watching everyone else hand over their ID. We could be saving about 50 seconds per transaction here if people were ready. What? Repacking your bags NOW? FFS you had all morning to weigh them.
Breathe Robyn! Breathe! You are going on holidays! Just grab a coffee, sit back and watch the people go by.
The first person to catch my attention is a ¾ age man (you know – older than middle age but not yet old) in his hipster aqua shorts with pineapple print. Then a Russian (judging by the language – Baltic at least) with the close to pornographic photo of two women being ….ah…. friendly… on the front of his t-shirt. I wonder how he got through immigration with that on? The brash, very well dressed Yanks float past in their matching boat shoes, white fedoras and navy jackets. No doubt on their way to the first class lounge. The mums with toddlers asleep on their shoulders trying to kick their bags along. They’ve invented trolleys love… I think to myself.
All this, backgrounded by Mariah Carey singing Christmas carols.
I move on, walk around for a while and then get another coffee. I am waiting for my phone to recharge after plugging in to one of the new charging stations that are everywhere in the airport now. No need to sit on the floor and unplug the drinks machine these days. I quickly switch back into people-watching mode. A young woman in front of me is talking on her phone, wearing earphones, her free hands are waving wildly in their air. Whoever is on the other end is clearly keeping her amused and she laughs and giggles. So sweet to watch. The young fellow to the right of me is using his phone as a mirror and is picking his zits…Ewwwwwww.
My phone has 2% to full charge and I still have three more hours to wait.
I listen to the announcements and wonder what happens to those who are called out as the last people to board? They must have checked in? Did they change their mind and decide not to go? Was there some sort of family tragedy which kept them from flying out? Where they in the car accident that had caused the traffic jam 5 km out of the airport?
More people watching!
There are two African-American guys standing in the line at McDonalds. One has a big guitar like keyboard around his neck and the other has big gold chains, short spiky dreadlocks and gold reflective sunglasses on. They look like they should be famous. Perhaps they are just wankers. A Muslim man walks past with 4 daughters – so many weddings to pay for!
At noon I decide it’s close enough to beer o’clock and buy a glass of wine which turns into two and hallelujah – it’s time to board.
All in all, the waste of time was productive. I wrote three blog posts. Researched part of a family history I wanted to write and made up character arcs for some of the interesting people who have walked by. Who knows, perhaps I even featured in another bored traveller’s diary.