Organic Tourism
BYRON BAY - It's been less than a week since my last post, but those two days of heavy rain I wrote about in my last post are now but a distant memory, dried up by the sun that came out the following morning.
Adrian and I managed to find a way to entertain ourselves on the second day of rain by making our way out to Sydney's largest indoor rock climbing gym, where we managed to stay for about four hours before our arms decided not to hold us to the walls any longer. Perhaps the weather gods were impressed by our resolve and our unwillingness to let a few centimetres of rain dampen my short stay in Australia's Toronto, for the sun came out in full force the very next day.
After a comfortable sleep-in and a leisurely breakfast in Glebe, I took off on yet another solo trek around an unfamiliar town to explore downtown Sydney via the waterfront. The highlight was undoubtedly the short harbour tour I enjoyed by riding the public ferry from 'The Rocks', near the fish market and the National Maritime Museum, to the main Quay. We stopped at enough piers on the trip over to get a few different angles of the Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House (which, when I saw for the first time made me feel for the first time that I was really in Australia), and when we docked at our last stop I made my way to the (free) Museum of Contemporary Art where I was reminded that I still don't understand contemporary art.
However, if modern art is meant to force its viewer to interpret its meaning and come to terms with the work's significance in their own way, then perhaps I'm on the right track. Is there a universal message one is supposed to extract from an aluminum strainer hooked up to an electrical outlet, set against a whitewashed wall? A powerful message one is expected to understand via a pair of coffee mugs fused together to form an infinite symbol? If there is, it's beyond me.
Nevertheless, one exhibit that featured a cylindrical sandbox in which its contents were constantly being carved into diamond shaped lines only to be smoothed out again by the other end of the aluminum, electrically powered arm, made me think of the end of Memoires of a Geisha, a book I finished somewhere in Laos: the impact human beings make on their physical and social environments is only temporary in the grand scheme of things. Eventually, with the passing of time and the daily influence of the natural elements, each of these footprints will fade away as they do when the tide comes in on the beach. In a clockwise and constant motion, the teeth of the aluminum arm that spanned the diameter of the sand(circle) carved out perfectly shaped lines in the sand, but in less than a second, these were wiped clean by the smooth face of the arm's opposite edge.
On the other hand, perhaps it wasn't a symbol of the sands of time and the temporary nature of our own existence and was only a circular sandbox with a rake running through it. Who's to decide?
Once I was finished contemplating my own existence at the MCA, I made my way uptown to meet up with a friend from home who's here on a working holiday and enjoying every minute of it. We reminisced about Vancouver over Starbucks coffee (my first since leaving Canada seven months ago) and I was given a tour of King's Cross, Sydney's somewhat seedy and Granville-esque backpacker district, before I headed back to Adrian's place for my second last night in town. Instead of hitting the bar or painting the town red, as it were, we decided to stay in and watch Back to the Future I and II. Great Scott! What a sad way to spend a night in Sydney, Australia when one is there for such a short period of time. Sad...but strangely enjoyable.
The next day three of us drove out to Bondi Beach to take in the sand, surf and unexpected gale-force winds that blew a few too many bits of sand into our gelato (which, without the sand, rivaled even La Casa Gelato and Mario's for those who know Vancouver's ice cream and gelato scene). That evening we decided to check out Sydney's version of the PNE or CNE, The Easter Show, held at the main site of the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games. Aside from the chariot races and live fishing demonstration, I would still give the PNE the upper edge, but I was only able to enjoy two hours worth of the Easter Show as I had to head back to town to catch my 945pm bus to Byron Bay.
The ride turned out to be much more pleasant than expected, even though I spent each of the three half-hour rest stops in a semi-conscious state, sitting at a table in each nameless gas station restaurant drinking chocolate milk and munching on gummy candies or the soy chips I picked up at the Fresh Food Dome at the Easter Show.
Daylight arrived eventually, bringing with it the striking panoramic views of Australia's eastern coastline (and the giant, plastic shrimp on top of the restaurant where we stopped for a predictably greasy breakfast). Before I knew it I was on a local bus - much more comfortable after changing into my shorts and a t-shirt after the long, cool overnight ride - heading away from the bustling surfer town of Byron Bay, home this weekend to the annual Blues and Roots Festival that draws upwards of 80, 000 people each year. My destination this time was the suburb or Suffolk Park, fifteen minutes south of Byron, where I would find my cousin Tim, his wife Nicole and their adorable 14 month old daughter Asha in their quaint little house near the beach.
That's where I've been staying for the past two days and will remain until Tuesday morning when Tim and I drive inland to the Permaforest Trust. I'll be there at least until Friday evening, and possibly the weekend as well, depending on how things transpire. Judging by how much I enjoyed accompanying Tim today on his visit to one of the tree plantations he's currently overseeing as a consultant, I won't be surprised if I stay at the Trust until I leave for Melbourne on the 6th. At this point though, I'd be happy in both locations, for the rolling countryside, the clear blue skies, the dark and fertile soil and the nearby beaches make for an ideal setting in which to relax, clear my head and read a few books about ecology and sustainable living.
My next post might be from the Trust, but it depends if I can secure a share of the two to three hours of internet time available up there each day due to the minimal power supply generated by their handful of solar panels. If Tim and I end up securing free tickets for the Blues Festival tomorrow I'll likely be posting again quite soon, though, for the lineup includes both R.E.M and Sarah McLaughlin, among others. If not, however, just imagine that I'm digging in an organic farm, learning Aikido (Thursday night) or exploring the trails of Barker's Vale, all under the hot and tan-friendly (in conjunction with generous helpings of sunblock) sun of northern New South Wales.
Adrian and I managed to find a way to entertain ourselves on the second day of rain by making our way out to Sydney's largest indoor rock climbing gym, where we managed to stay for about four hours before our arms decided not to hold us to the walls any longer. Perhaps the weather gods were impressed by our resolve and our unwillingness to let a few centimetres of rain dampen my short stay in Australia's Toronto, for the sun came out in full force the very next day.
After a comfortable sleep-in and a leisurely breakfast in Glebe, I took off on yet another solo trek around an unfamiliar town to explore downtown Sydney via the waterfront. The highlight was undoubtedly the short harbour tour I enjoyed by riding the public ferry from 'The Rocks', near the fish market and the National Maritime Museum, to the main Quay. We stopped at enough piers on the trip over to get a few different angles of the Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House (which, when I saw for the first time made me feel for the first time that I was really in Australia), and when we docked at our last stop I made my way to the (free) Museum of Contemporary Art where I was reminded that I still don't understand contemporary art.
However, if modern art is meant to force its viewer to interpret its meaning and come to terms with the work's significance in their own way, then perhaps I'm on the right track. Is there a universal message one is supposed to extract from an aluminum strainer hooked up to an electrical outlet, set against a whitewashed wall? A powerful message one is expected to understand via a pair of coffee mugs fused together to form an infinite symbol? If there is, it's beyond me.
Nevertheless, one exhibit that featured a cylindrical sandbox in which its contents were constantly being carved into diamond shaped lines only to be smoothed out again by the other end of the aluminum, electrically powered arm, made me think of the end of Memoires of a Geisha, a book I finished somewhere in Laos: the impact human beings make on their physical and social environments is only temporary in the grand scheme of things. Eventually, with the passing of time and the daily influence of the natural elements, each of these footprints will fade away as they do when the tide comes in on the beach. In a clockwise and constant motion, the teeth of the aluminum arm that spanned the diameter of the sand(circle) carved out perfectly shaped lines in the sand, but in less than a second, these were wiped clean by the smooth face of the arm's opposite edge.
On the other hand, perhaps it wasn't a symbol of the sands of time and the temporary nature of our own existence and was only a circular sandbox with a rake running through it. Who's to decide?
Once I was finished contemplating my own existence at the MCA, I made my way uptown to meet up with a friend from home who's here on a working holiday and enjoying every minute of it. We reminisced about Vancouver over Starbucks coffee (my first since leaving Canada seven months ago) and I was given a tour of King's Cross, Sydney's somewhat seedy and Granville-esque backpacker district, before I headed back to Adrian's place for my second last night in town. Instead of hitting the bar or painting the town red, as it were, we decided to stay in and watch Back to the Future I and II. Great Scott! What a sad way to spend a night in Sydney, Australia when one is there for such a short period of time. Sad...but strangely enjoyable.
The next day three of us drove out to Bondi Beach to take in the sand, surf and unexpected gale-force winds that blew a few too many bits of sand into our gelato (which, without the sand, rivaled even La Casa Gelato and Mario's for those who know Vancouver's ice cream and gelato scene). That evening we decided to check out Sydney's version of the PNE or CNE, The Easter Show, held at the main site of the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games. Aside from the chariot races and live fishing demonstration, I would still give the PNE the upper edge, but I was only able to enjoy two hours worth of the Easter Show as I had to head back to town to catch my 945pm bus to Byron Bay.
The ride turned out to be much more pleasant than expected, even though I spent each of the three half-hour rest stops in a semi-conscious state, sitting at a table in each nameless gas station restaurant drinking chocolate milk and munching on gummy candies or the soy chips I picked up at the Fresh Food Dome at the Easter Show.
Daylight arrived eventually, bringing with it the striking panoramic views of Australia's eastern coastline (and the giant, plastic shrimp on top of the restaurant where we stopped for a predictably greasy breakfast). Before I knew it I was on a local bus - much more comfortable after changing into my shorts and a t-shirt after the long, cool overnight ride - heading away from the bustling surfer town of Byron Bay, home this weekend to the annual Blues and Roots Festival that draws upwards of 80, 000 people each year. My destination this time was the suburb or Suffolk Park, fifteen minutes south of Byron, where I would find my cousin Tim, his wife Nicole and their adorable 14 month old daughter Asha in their quaint little house near the beach.
That's where I've been staying for the past two days and will remain until Tuesday morning when Tim and I drive inland to the Permaforest Trust. I'll be there at least until Friday evening, and possibly the weekend as well, depending on how things transpire. Judging by how much I enjoyed accompanying Tim today on his visit to one of the tree plantations he's currently overseeing as a consultant, I won't be surprised if I stay at the Trust until I leave for Melbourne on the 6th. At this point though, I'd be happy in both locations, for the rolling countryside, the clear blue skies, the dark and fertile soil and the nearby beaches make for an ideal setting in which to relax, clear my head and read a few books about ecology and sustainable living.
My next post might be from the Trust, but it depends if I can secure a share of the two to three hours of internet time available up there each day due to the minimal power supply generated by their handful of solar panels. If Tim and I end up securing free tickets for the Blues Festival tomorrow I'll likely be posting again quite soon, though, for the lineup includes both R.E.M and Sarah McLaughlin, among others. If not, however, just imagine that I'm digging in an organic farm, learning Aikido (Thursday night) or exploring the trails of Barker's Vale, all under the hot and tan-friendly (in conjunction with generous helpings of sunblock) sun of northern New South Wales.
posted by Per at 2:53 a.m.
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