Rizz goes round the world

Am I back in Cancun??!!-- Oz Chapter 4: The East Coast

I have to admit that arriving on the East Coast, a haven of tourists, schoolies (Aussie kids who've newly graduated high school), wet t-shirt contests, jelly (that's Jell-o in the States) wrestling, and people whose sole aim is to get as wasted as possible at night and then sleep all day, was a bit of a let-down after the Outback. It didn't help that the first couple of days the only people I met were girls who piled on the make-up and curled their hair to go snorkelling. I mean, they were lovely girls, and fun to hang out with, but not really my style. Fortunately, through them I met up with a fun group of guys, and we decided together to take a road trip up to Cape Tribulation. At the Cape, we waded in potentially croc-infested waters, hung out under a blanket of stars (almost as good as the Outback) on the beach, played Uno, stopped at a bat sactuary and an ice cream factory, the latter being sadly a let-down, swam in as many water holes as possible, skipped stones, and had a picnic at Port Douglas. All the while, I got to listen to talk of girls and toilet humor galore. I was in my element. Brought me back to my roadtrip down to NYC with the Chez Pascal boys and Alyson.

So, while I did get a bit depressed with all the empty, bloated party-hard ways and wet t-shirt contests, I have to admit my voyage down the coast was not an awful one. There was snorkelling in the Great Barrier Reef, where I was actually I supposed to scuba dive, but they didn't let me thanks to my collapsed lung. Stupid car accident. I sailed for 3 days in the Whitsunday islands, where I ate breakfast surrounded by turtles and bathed in the water at Whitehaven Beach, supposedly the world's most beautiful. I camped for 2 nights on Fraser island, where we had a great time powering through deep sand, swam at the beautiful Lakes MacKenzie and Wabby, and spotted turtles, sting rays, and sharks in the waters below the look-out at Indian Head. Thanks to Joey, I stopped in the town of 1770, whose quiet charm and laid-back vibe really became my respite and restored my sanity after my low point in awful Airlie Beach. In 1770 I overcame my fear of motorbikes (which Nate and Karel can both attest to. I'm surprised both of them are alive after me squeezing onto them while on the back of Nate's motorcycle and Karels' rented scooter) and drove a MINI-HARLEY!! It rocked! Such a highlight! I also went sea-kayaking. My partner Max and I made a great team and kicked some butt and caught some great waves. In Noosa's National Park, I walked in pure solitude in dappled sunshine on a path through the forest and then along the coast, where a turqoise ocean lapped the shore and a tear came to my eye as I remembered all the beautiful things I've seen. Before settling down in an isoloated beach tucked into a cove in the National Park, I spotted a koala up in the tree and thought of Tate, who was saying "koala" in the background as I spoke to my brother on the phone one day. And I made some amazing friends. Herve and Fred, two guys from Paris, on the Whitsunday trip. Fred, a former male stripper and an absolute character, can speak English well, but Herve can't really. He CAN, however, speak Spanish, so I got to polish off the Spanish skills in interesting ways, like trying to teach the rules of Texas Hold 'Em. I reunited with them in Brisbane, where we hung out at the casino, danced until the wee hours of morning, and got to catch an amateur male strip show, in which I tried to get Fred to participate. I also met Yarin, an Israeli who fought in the recent war with Lebanon, and who saved my life at the lagoon at Airlie Beach, all thanks to a plastic bottle that blew my way. After growing depressed by the vapidity surrounding me, finally, here was a down-to-earth person with whom I bonded immediately and who will remain my friend for a long time to come. We met again in Brisbane, after another twist of fate cancelled his planned scuba course in 1770, and through him I met Kirsten, an amazing girl from Brisbane, fluent in Portuguese and skilled at Capueira, thanks to having lived in Brazil. Thanks to Kirsten, my last few days in Oz were fantastic: beer on one of the many outdoor patios in Fortitude Valley, goon on a ferry down the river, Christmas Carols while we wore shorts and tank tops, sushi, a ride on the ferris wheel, fire dancers, live music. Phenomenal. On Fraser Island I had an amazing crew. Billy, Craig and Jamie became like my brothers, and we had some great times as we reunited in Noosa and Byron Bay-- stumbling upon live music just when I was craving it dearly, burping contests, wearing Santa hats into the club, dancing on tables, rides home in a shopping cart, causing a run-in with a disgruntled and drunk old man, late-night chilling out on the beach. It was grand. I also made friends with the enemy on Fraser Island, the enemy being Marianne, one of the Groovy Grapers who was in Coober Pedy while we were. Small world! Marianne and her friend Joelle turned out being very cool chicks though, so I suppose I can forgive her for her error in judgment in choosing Groovy Grape. And, true to the travel tradition of single-serving friends, I met many others along the way with whom I shared an entertaining night or two before parting ways. In Airlie, it was spontaneous karaoke with Chris, Lisa and Jenna, and a girly night of bonding with Polly, Sophie and Lucy. After the nightmare that was a homesick Thanksgiving in Airlie Beach, I realized as I plodded along down the coast, becoming happier with every new move, that everywhere I went, I had friends there to meet, true friends, people with whom I'll stay in touch for years to come. Travel. It's amazing.

So, after so many amazing experiences and people, it was with a heavy heart that I prepared to leave Australia. Arriving in Byron Bay, the town that made me want to move here two years ago, I recalled that desire, and recognized that it's within me still. As Emma said, Oz is a magical place. That day as I walked along the coast in Noosa National Park, looking for koalas, I shed a tear. A bittersweet tear. A tear in appreciation for all the amazingly beautiful things I've seen, a tear in worry that I'd maybe grown weary and stopped appreciating the beauty around me, a tear in the heavy recognition that, as the waves crashing below me brought me back to New Zealand, time has a way of slipping by too fast, a tear for all the people I've met along the way, a tear for my family and friends at home, whom I miss. A tear in the knowledge that, very soon, I'd be leaving this beautiful, magical land. As I shared a final Victoria Bitter with Sile, Keith and Yarin in Brisbane, the morning before my flight (yes, morning. It's the Irish, I tell ya. Bad influence.), I knew I couldn't think about the finality of leaving. I know I'll be back one day, but it won't be the same: the unique combination of people, experiences, and fate made this part of my journey what it was. I can never have it back, perhaps, but at least I had it to begin with. And for now, enough with this feeling bad for myself. I had a plane to catch! (Which I VERY narrowly missed, by the way.) It was time to be happy and excited for the new adventures that awaited me!

And with that, my friends, I am actually up-to-date with this thing!!! Now I just need to add photos... For now, though, you can check out my NZ pictures at www.flickr.com/photos/rizzoloca. Enjoy!

posted by La Rizz @ 1:51 AM