And just like that, JR and I were on our own with no work, no structure, no deadlines, no obligations, and--as any good Aussie--absolutely no worries. This is not to say that we did not have certain minor details of our trip to work out but this was more of mental frame of mind whilst considering these trifling details. These minor details included but were not limited to:
where were we going to buy a car?
where were we going once we bought it?
how much money would it cost to finance our trip?
--did we have that much in our accounts?
--and if not, were we going to work?
--and if so, where, when, and doing what?
and if so we did have enough, what did where did we want to go?
and what did we want to see?
and what did we want to do?
when were we going to return?
and how were we going to get back?
Again...trifles really. We had 2.5 months off work and had all of Australia to explore. Nothing was going to stop us.
We had to of course start at square one: transportation. While JR and I were traveling companions in theory we were not actually residing in the same place and since coming to Sydney had only met once or twice as JR was staying with his friend Simona and I was staying in a hostel in the lovely King's Cross neighborhood. So, what followed of our car hunt was an rather half-hearted, disjointed, and thoroughly inefficient search. JR was looking online, I was scouring my hostel's "Cars for sale" book and both of us were making calls and arranging appointments to view cars that suited our criteria. Said criteria was that the car must be suitable for both travel and accommodation; nice, but not too nice as to be expensive (we were hoping >$2000); and having all the proper paperwork that we could drive away immediately. So that put us in the same market AS EVERY SINGLE OTHER BACKPACKER IN SYDNEY, more or less.
The first car we committed ourselves to seeing wound up being at the far end of the Sydney metro-rail system. It took us nearly 3 hours to ride out to the edge of the Blue Mountains outside Sydney. We were greeted by a friendly enough German fellow who had spent the past couple of weeks climbing and was selling his 1994 Mitusbishi Magna before returning to the motherland. The Magna is the equivalent of the Dodge Neon or the Toyota Corolla or some other ubiquitous car model that given the time, the boredom, and a large cup of coffee one could record an impressive tally of sightings while gazing out the window of any run-of-the-mill coffee shop along any mundane road. The setup itself looks pretty legit. There was a butane gas stove, pots, pans, plates, knives, etc., GPS, campsite book, Australia guide book, a mattress, pillows, blankets, a tent, and even curtains. Perfect for our plans to synthesize our transportation with our travel. After milling around making minor comments about minor problems, "This seat bet buckle has lost its cover." "Yep. It has. But it still works fine though." "Yep, it does." we took it for a test drive.
Well it was a bit of an interesting ride. The motor itself started up fine. It drove really smoothly except for some faint, but still worrying, whirling and whammings but what can you expect from a car that's nearly 20 years old? The thing that really had JR and I a bit worried was not the driving bit, it was the idling bit. While idling the car tended to jump around and voice rather load complaints. It was enough to make your teeth rattle a bit, comparable to one of those massaging chairs, ya know? Well after the drive, since JR and I are such shrewd hagglers we passed some of those comments that are meant to strike fear into the seller but realistically don't do much of anything. "That idlying thing is kinda worrying, huh?" "Yea its always made that sound but it runs great." "Yea it just really is loud and I don't think it's a good sign for it." "I know what you mean but it runs great." --This continued for 20 min...use your imagination for the rest--"Well we like you buddy but we'll need to discuss it together before we buy." Huddled conversation:
Well what do you think? -JR
I haven't got a clue. I don't know diddly about this sort of thing.-Me
Do you want to make him an offer?-JR
Yea, sure. It's a bit scary but, yea. Or no. I don't mind.-Me (I'm really helpful in these things)
Well I think if we low ball him down to 1200 instead of 1800 it'd be a good deal.-JR
Yea ok. I'll follow your lead (aka say as little as possible)-Me
All right let's do it. But we will walk away if he won't come down. -JR
OK- Me
(Haggling commences) Another huddled conversation.
Ok, well he didn't come down. What do we do?-JR
I dunno. I mean it's not the best but it's not the worst either. And we've come all this way.-Me
Yea, I know. And it's getting late too.-JR
Yea.-Me
Ah, fuck it. Let's buy it.-JR
Cool. -Me
And this, pretty much, is how we became owners of a white, kinda junky mitusbishi station wagon for $1800. Obviously, we are super shrewd hagglers. And at the time of purchase there appeared to only be fumes left in the tank so we immediately had to fill up which basically made it cost 1900. So it goes. One lesson, never commit to a 3 hour one way trip to see a car because if the car looks kinda shitty it looks way better than another 3 hours on the train to get back... Anyway, we had one of our 'minor details' ticked off. We were car owners.
It was the middle of June at this point and for those unaware June=Summer in North America (and the rest of the northern hemisphere) but June in Oz=winter. Now I like most of you readers back home came to Australia with this post card picture of the land down under in my head namely this:
Sunshine, beaches, and nearly intolerable heat. The whole works
I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before but even if I have it deserves a second mentioning. Everyone warned me about how Aussie winters and how miserable they can be. But having grown up in Ohio where winter means 3 ft of snow and -4 degree days I was hardly concerned. This is a patently false assumption Aussie winters suck. It's just cold and rainy and nothing else for ages...and ages......and ages. This is a much more accurate portrayal of Aussie winter:
This is all a matter of setting up JR and I's next mission: find the sun. The next day we hopped into our newly purchased car and started driving north, almost with abandon to find the postcard version of Australia.
This adventure took us much much longer than I would care to recount. Basically it took us a week to ten days of nearly continuous driving and an absolutely horrible night out in Byron Bay to get past the bulge that holds Brisbane and painfully slowly began to see the sun in brief, cherished glimpses. The trail we scorched to find the sun forced us to pass by many interesting sounding destinations. For example, Fraser Island, the world's largest sand island which is covered with trekking trails and natural fresh water lakes and sounded magical but the rain was slowly dowsing the flame of hope and happiness in both of us so we kept driving on past. We spent our nights sleeping comfortably, if not compactly, in our station wagon at rest stops and free camp sites we could find. During this time we put our new car under a magnifying glass only to find a thousand minor quarks that were, let's say, less than desirable. I.e. the power steering gave out, the oil was dangerously low, the scary noise never really got better and always left us in the "it's going to die today" feeling, and, unnoticed at the time of purchase, short phrases had been added to the exterior in stick on letters that classily labeled the car as "The Mercedes Benz Pimp Mobile" on the trunk and by far the most clever and attractive a simple "FUCK OFF" spelled out just above the rear view mirror. For these slight defects and just in general the tiredness and tough life quality of our car we christen her Tina Turner because of 'the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived.' (the title/subtitle of this post comes from my favorite slam poem called "Shake the Dust". Check it out. It'll make your life better: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u--_-tyuejc) It really was a gem of a buy. But it was still working so we had no complaints.
After the never ending drive we did manage to finally find some clear sky and sunshine. And man when life is good. Life is REALLY good. We were doing the exact same things as before: driving most of the day and finding free places to camp but it seemed that the drives were shorter and the camp sites all butted up against beautiful beaches. As soon as we'd found the sun we naturally fell into its rhythm, waking at 6:30 or 7 and going to sleep at 830 or 9. It was fabulous.
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| First touch of sunlight in the morning |
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| The world spinning the sun further up into the sky |
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| Introducing Tina Turner in all her glory (that is the same sunrise as above through the trees). |
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| Cozy home. Fell asleep to the lapping of the ocean. |
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| Full set up. |
About two weeks out of Sydney we managed to rendez-vous with a couple of friends from OEG Liz Slingsby (UK) and Lisa Sink (Virginia) at a place called Cape Hillsborough national park. It was incredible. We stayed at a caravan park (Liz and Lisa had rented a decked out van designed for camping) that was, again, 20 meters from beach access. It was wonderful. We passed the time sharing stories about our past month's worth of adventures, lounging on the beach, and exploring the area--with some help of a super friendly Kiwi who let us borrow his sea kayak for a day. The beach was great and quite singular in that it's sand was infused with mica particles (fools gold essentially) which gave it a quality of shininess and sparkle that really was quite stunning. We stayed at the park for 3 nights simply living the high life. I could go on for pages on this but as I am already so so so so so so so far behind on my postings I'll leave it for now. I'll let each of these pictures from this time give their 1000 words instead:
UPCOMING FOR OUR HEROS:
With any simple truthful saying like "...when life is good. Life is REALLY good," hides a much deeper and unpleasant converse truth, in this case "...when life is bad. Life is REALLY bad." Well our good life was just about to take a sharp turn for the worse. But that's a story for another post.
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