melbourne got fun. i went for my walk. i'm in adelaide now. i've inadvertently joined the circus.
oh all right, you deserve better than a cheap synopsis. melbourne got rowdy, mad and tomfoolerish, as per usual. i ended up on a bender, as per usual, though i was in denial about it until day three. such a fun town, but perfectly unsustainable. i am beginning to fear the relentless pleasures of city life.
hopped on a train down to geelong on monday, then a bus to lorne and hitched down to apollo bay with a disillusioned schoolteacher turned paramedic, who gave me macadamias. i was cranky at the bourgiousie for making me wait for a lift for over an hour before i worked out it was valentine's day and no-one wanted to interrupt their romantic getaway. developed renewed hatred for lovestruck happy yuppies.
slept in the dunes, flush with homemade swag pride (it's warm enough!), woke to a pink dawn and deserted sea, stocked up on meusli bars and water, and headed into the bush. walked.
walked.
didn't fall over, surprisingly enough. which is fortunate, as much of the great ocean walk skirts rugged cliffs and winds around precarious-looking headlands complete with encouraging warning diagrams: stickperson falling off cliff, stickperson dwarfed by tsunami, stickperson crushed by enormous tree, and so forth. okay, it really wasn't as dangerous as i want to make it sound. but i did feel after six days in the bush that i'd done something more than a little brave. so there.
it irritates me that the coastline was in fact spectacular, a word that should be reserved for tourist brochures and circuses (we will get to circuses in a minute). i saw a lot of wildlife, more koalas than i think i've seen in my entire life - even slept under one at cape otway, where i had the camp to myself. shit, they make weird noises. like they're trying out for a death metal band. black wallabies, a couple of echidnas, even spotted some peregrine falcons. oh, and four little penguins and a baby seal, all of which were extremely dead. all this and gorgeous isolated beaches, the wild southern ocean, starlight, shipwrecks and stories about shipwrecks and a track that cut through farmland laden with rich ripe blackberries. yay.
popped back to civilization at the twelve apostles (how many of australia's major attractions are rocks?) and hitched to warnambool, slept in a backpackers (bed! weird!) and hitched all the way to adelaide pretty much in one go. even though i was planning on taking it slow, again. i just couldn't resist sticking with the ride - my first female truck driver in ten years of hitching! she was only 23 and the whole cab was covered in pink and stuffed animals. crazy. we listened to eminem and bitched about arsehole dairy farmers.
i arrive in adelaide to realise that the fringe festival is on. there's a sideshow kinda space which i decide needs a fortune teller. they kick me out after a couple of hours, then let me back in the next night with permission, a sequinned tablecloth and care and attention from the lovely staff. hooray.
there's trapeze and juggling and all sorts of weirdness going on. a parade tonight. i've developed an immediate routine: spend my days in the library and wandering the markets eating free samples, my nights in the circus; drop in to the crown and anchor for a pint on my way back to bed. whoda thought adelaide would be fun? i take it all back!
oh all right, you deserve better than a cheap synopsis. melbourne got rowdy, mad and tomfoolerish, as per usual. i ended up on a bender, as per usual, though i was in denial about it until day three. such a fun town, but perfectly unsustainable. i am beginning to fear the relentless pleasures of city life.
hopped on a train down to geelong on monday, then a bus to lorne and hitched down to apollo bay with a disillusioned schoolteacher turned paramedic, who gave me macadamias. i was cranky at the bourgiousie for making me wait for a lift for over an hour before i worked out it was valentine's day and no-one wanted to interrupt their romantic getaway. developed renewed hatred for lovestruck happy yuppies.
slept in the dunes, flush with homemade swag pride (it's warm enough!), woke to a pink dawn and deserted sea, stocked up on meusli bars and water, and headed into the bush. walked.
walked.
didn't fall over, surprisingly enough. which is fortunate, as much of the great ocean walk skirts rugged cliffs and winds around precarious-looking headlands complete with encouraging warning diagrams: stickperson falling off cliff, stickperson dwarfed by tsunami, stickperson crushed by enormous tree, and so forth. okay, it really wasn't as dangerous as i want to make it sound. but i did feel after six days in the bush that i'd done something more than a little brave. so there.
it irritates me that the coastline was in fact spectacular, a word that should be reserved for tourist brochures and circuses (we will get to circuses in a minute). i saw a lot of wildlife, more koalas than i think i've seen in my entire life - even slept under one at cape otway, where i had the camp to myself. shit, they make weird noises. like they're trying out for a death metal band. black wallabies, a couple of echidnas, even spotted some peregrine falcons. oh, and four little penguins and a baby seal, all of which were extremely dead. all this and gorgeous isolated beaches, the wild southern ocean, starlight, shipwrecks and stories about shipwrecks and a track that cut through farmland laden with rich ripe blackberries. yay.
popped back to civilization at the twelve apostles (how many of australia's major attractions are rocks?) and hitched to warnambool, slept in a backpackers (bed! weird!) and hitched all the way to adelaide pretty much in one go. even though i was planning on taking it slow, again. i just couldn't resist sticking with the ride - my first female truck driver in ten years of hitching! she was only 23 and the whole cab was covered in pink and stuffed animals. crazy. we listened to eminem and bitched about arsehole dairy farmers.
i arrive in adelaide to realise that the fringe festival is on. there's a sideshow kinda space which i decide needs a fortune teller. they kick me out after a couple of hours, then let me back in the next night with permission, a sequinned tablecloth and care and attention from the lovely staff. hooray.
there's trapeze and juggling and all sorts of weirdness going on. a parade tonight. i've developed an immediate routine: spend my days in the library and wandering the markets eating free samples, my nights in the circus; drop in to the crown and anchor for a pint on my way back to bed. whoda thought adelaide would be fun? i take it all back!
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