Return to a Land Down Under

Last year – February of 2023 – I visited Australia for the first time.  Almost exactly a year later, I was once again on my way to a land down under.

I couldn’t have been happier about it either, for multiple reasons.  First of all, after some “minor frustrations” in Vietnam, I was more than ready to move on to my next stop.  Second of all, I fell in love with Australia last year, so much so that it now tops my list of favorite countries.

This time, in the spirit of going to a new place on every continent, I opted to go off the mainland, to Tasmania.  I loved the idea of going somewhere a little more wild, a little more untamed and a little less crowded.  I also decided that since I was coming straight from four days in a big city, I’d spend the first two nights off the beaten path…in the bush…in a tee pee.

After my very long trip from Ho Chi Minh City, I finally landed at the tiny airport in Hobart.  There, I had decided to do something I had never done.  I rented a car in a foreign country.  The bush retreat I was staying at was a little over an hour away and it would be cheaper than paying for a cab ride both ways.

However, I somehow forgot a minor (okay, major) detail.  I picked up my car, loaded my bags, opened the door and remembered.

Well crap.

Australians drive on the left side of the road.  I sat in the right-sided drivers seat for about ten minutes, willing myself to start the engine.  I just stared at it, wondering if this was a good idea and if I would end up hurting myself – or someone else.  I also questioned my decision not to purchase insurance.  Surely, it would be my luck that my unemployed (I mean, self-employed) butt would have an accident and have to replace a totaled car in Australia.

I eventually got up the nerve and started the car.  I decided that, no matter how much I annoyed people and no matter how many times I got honked at, I’d just go slow and try to follow other cars.  That way, I’d always be going the right direction.  Right?

I put the bush retreat in the GPS and headed out, saying frantic prayers in my head as I drove.  I was surprised.  It wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I had expected!  Granted, I was going about 30 miles an hour most of the way – hence the frequent honks.  But I didn’t care.  I got to the Huon Valley, near where I was staying, with little problems.

Okay, I might have gone the wrong way one or two times but I quickly realized it and got on the right (I mean, left) side.

Based on my GPS, I was only a few miles away when I was betrayed by Google Maps.  It told me to take a dirt road and, on the map, it looked like it would direct me straight to the Huon Bush Retreats.

It did not.

Instead, it took me down what can only be described as a questionable hiking path.  Why on earth I kept going and didn’t turn around is beyond me but I ignored my intuition and trusted technology.

Never.  Again.

(In hindsight, I feel like Michael Scott in that episode of “The Office” when he drives his car into a lake because that’s what the GPS told him.)

Hearing trees and bushes scrape all over my uninsured rental car and watching the path disappear in front of me, I finally decided to turn back.  Problem.  There was nowhere near enough room to turn around.  I would have to back out.

Not only was I backing out of a path barely larger than my car, but I was doing so while driving on the right side of the car for the first time in my life.

There are good ideas and bad ideas.  This was a bad idea but there was no other option.

So I started backing-up.  Slowly.  Very, very slowly.  With every scrape of a branch on the car I cringed, wondering how much this was going to cost me.  I had no idea how far down this dubious path I had driven until I had to go back, in reverse.

A half-mile, twenty minutes and countless four-letter words later I finally emerged to a place big enough to make a three-point turn and so I could go forward.  At that point, I saw my phone had reception and I called the number for the bush retreats.  Another twenty or thirty minutes and two more phone calls later, I finally arrived.  I got out of the car scared to death of what I would find.  I was shocked.  Zero damage.  I honestly don’t know how that happened.

I walked up the path and found my home for the next two nights.  It wasn’t much but it was exactly what I had expected.  A small fireplace, a futon bed and a shared bathroom and camp kitchen down the street.  There were a few solar-powered lights but no actual electricity.  It wasn’t exactly roughing it, I mean, I had a bed, pillows and a warm blanket after all.  It was more like glamping.  Glamping in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

It was perfect.  Exactly the kind of solitude I was craving.  For the first time in a month I wasn’t even thinking about the next stop on my trip.  I just wanted to enjoy myself where I was, right now.  I wanted to take it all in.

So I did just that.  I spent the next two days exploring the Tasmanian bush, cooking breakfast on a shared camp stove, staring at the unobstructed Australian stars and just enjoying the fact that I was in a place that is, while inhabited, still wild and more or less pure.

The highlight of those two days was the second night when I reserved the outdoor bath at 10 pm.  I came prepared with a bottle of wine, my computer and the next few episodes of “Serial”.  There, I soaked.  Wine in hand, zoning out to true-crime drama (pretty much my favorite narrative in the world), staring up at a night sky, full of bright stars.

It’s for moments like this that I changed my life.  It’s for moments like this that I left the comfort of a well-paying, perk-filled job.  It’s moments like this for which my heart ached during my years in the corporate world.

This is why I left it all.  This might not be WHY I’m alive, but it’s what makes me feel most alive.

My two days in the bush were over.  The worst part…I had to drive back to Hobart, on the scary-as-hell right side of the car/left side of the road.

Surprisingly, even to myself, I made it back in one piece.  Actually, both me and my car made it back in one piece.  I held my breath as the rent-a-car lady did her final check for damage.  I was prepared for her to find some massive scratch or dent from my misadventures in the bush but none were found.  Bullet, dodged.

My relaxing excursion in the bush was over and now I had four nights to explore the city of Hobart.  Everything I had seen of the city, so far, had reminded me of why I love Australia – beautiful scenery, lovely people, an active and outdoorsy lifestyle and a lot of local ciders.  I love cider.  Almost as much as I love wine.

I got back to Hobart early that day and set up camp at a local restaurant with WiFi to get a little blogging done.  I also spent some time booking some tours for the next few days.  After that (and a nap) I explored on foot the rest of the day and night.  I walked down for dinner at Salamanca Place, an area right by the harbor with lots of restaurants and bars.  After perusing some menus, I opted for a place with a wallaby burger.  I absolutely love kangaroo meet and figured it would be similar.  After all, wallabies are pretty much smaller, even cuter kangaroos.  A very small part of me felt bad…but not enough.  I ordered it anyway and I wasn’t disappointed.  Wallabies are not only cute, they are super tasty!

So, my official tally of exotic meat now goes like this…

Alpaca – THE BEST

Kangaroo – A Very Close Second to Alpaca

Wallaby – Pretty Darn Good

Baby Horse – Super Tasty

Ostrich – Tastes Like Chicken

Alligator – Tastes Like Rubbery Chicken

Fried Sheep Balls – Believe it or not, not terrible.  But, fry a shoe and I’d probably like it.

Whale – Okay, but a little too fatty.

Guinea Pig – Bad.  Very bad.

Puffin – PURE EVIL

The next day, I had to be at a specific beach in the afternoon for kayaking so I explored on foot around that area most of the morning and early afternoon.  It was a beautiful day, so I was content just walking around town, stopping for small bites and working out on the beach.

I met up with my guide and a couple from Melbourne for our kayaking tour.  We headed out in the bay, the strong Tassie sun beating down and the water like glass.  It was the perfect way to spend the afternoon.  Seeing Hobart from the water, taking in the sites and enjoying the warmth of the sun, I had another moment of gratitude and bliss, similar to how I felt in the bath tub the night before.  The stress of Vietnam was a distant memory.

It’s that peace that I was searching for when I booked this trip.  Leaving it all behind.  I wanted to let go of the anxiety of the last ten years and not yet think about the new stresses awaiting me when I got home.  This trip was a transition between those two lives and I had designed it in a way that would hopefully help me slowly shed my old skin and reveal the person I want to be now.  The person I am after ESPN.

I don’t want to forget everything about the old me.  I learned a lot in that decade.  I grew a lot as a person.  It would be a waste if I didn’t embrace all of the things that had bettered me over the past ten years.  However, I want to let go of some aspects too.  The corporate stress.  The focus on dollars, dollars, dollars.  Yes, of course I want my company to make money.  But I’m trying to let go of the typical idea of having it all.  I want to determine what “having it all” means to me now.  It doesn’t mean adding zeroes to my paycheck.  It means adding joy to my life…while still making enough money to be okay.  It means being independent and doing it all on my own terms.  That’s what I want for this next phase of my life.

After kayaking for a couple hours, we returned to the beach.  I was a bit tired and I had an early morning ahead.  Instead of venturing out that night, I grabbed an early dinner and turned in early, curling up to some cheesy young-adult TV on Netflix.

I woke up early the following day and walked back downtown to my meeting spot for a mountain biking adventure.  Hobart is in the shadow of Mount Wellington and, with its high peak and sheer cliffs, it’s intimidating to look at from below.  We would be driving to the top and biking down.  It was my favorite kind of biking – downhill!

The view from the top was truly breathtaking.  It was a little hazy but I could imagine that, on a clear day, you could see halfway across the island.  Hobart is right on the water and has a number of bays and small inlets, making the city an absolutely beautiful sight from above.

We had a group of about twelve and I started off near the front.  I learned something about myself that day.  I like to think of myself as fearless.  Well, fearless I am not.  I’m kind of a puss.

Very quickly, everyone started passing me, flying down the mountain without a care in the world.  I, on the other hand, rode the brakes and nearly came to a stop every time I saw a car.  I remembered this feeling from when I was snowmobiling on a glacier in Iceland.  It was exhilarating but also scared me to death.  Even though I was driving the snowmobile (and in this case, riding a bike) I still felt out of control.  I realized that I love adventure and adrenaline and speed…as long as I feel in complete control.  (I fear this might have deeper meanings about my personality but, for now, I will choose to ignore that.  I’ll save the self-examination for another day.)

We reached a path and were given the option of going off-road or staying on the paved highway.  Everyone wanted to go off-road so I figured I could do it too.  I had decided that, during this trip, I would say yes to every opportunity.  I was exploring the world and the last thing I wanted was to get home and regret not embracing every moment.  So, I went off-road.

I learned something else about myself that day.  I don’t like mountain biking.

Once again, the rest of the group sped past me while I slowly and carefully navigated the rocky path.  I even got off and walked some of the way.  I told you I’m a puss.

Finally, we met back up with the road.  By this time, I was getting a little more comfortable with speeding downhill.  Plus, I was so grateful for the smooth road that going fast didn’t scare me as much anymore…although I was still the slowest one, by far!  A few kilometers later, we had a second opportunity to get off-road.  This time I opted out and followed our support truck down the road where we would meet the rest of the group.

I said I’d say yes to every opportunity.  I meant to say, I’d say yes to every opportunity…once.  I didn’t need to do something twice if I hated it the first time.  I don’t need to prove myself quite that much.

After meeting up with the group we headed back down.  Soon we were on mostly flat ground, off the mountain.  We rode through Hobart’s many neighborhoods on our way back to Sandy Bay, where we had started.  Soon enough, we were back and my mountain biking adventure was over.  I was coming to terms with the fact that I’m a big fat coward.  But I think I’m okay with that.  My goal isn’t to be fearless.  My goal is to do things that scare me, to acknowledge fear when it comes and keep going anyway – whether I’m speeding down a mountain, careening over a glacier on a snowmobile or leaving behind the comfort and safety of a great career for the freedom of the unknown.

On my way back to the hotel I saw a sign for a dinner cruise.  I stopped to investigate and signed-up for a cruise that night.  After my traumatic dinner cruise experience in Ho Chi Minh City, (I was still having flashbacks to ‘Nam) I was determined to make this one work.  This time, I knew exactly where to go and when to be there.  I would not end up alone on a pier, crying while a strange man takes my picture…again.

I went back to the hotel and relaxed for a few hours then returned to the harbor for the cruise.  I will admit, it wasn’t exactly what I had expected.  It was a very small boat with just two crew members – the captain and our waitress.  There were only five us on board, two couples and me.  I think I may have ruined their idea of a romantic sunset cruise.  The food was okay.  Certainly not the best meal I had in Tasmania but the scenery was beautiful, the weather perfect and the bar open…so I made the best of it.

We returned shortly after sunset and I went back to the hotel to go to bed.  I had an extra early morning and a long day ahead.  I had booked an all-day tour to Bruny Island, about an hour out of town, and I had to meet my bus down the street at 7 am.  Have I mentioned I’m not a morning person?

The next day, I found the bus stop pretty easily and was picked up by my tour guide.  We headed out of Hobart toward Bruny Island.  I was looking forward to taking in the views on the ferry ride over to the island.  Unfortunately, it was a cold and windy morning so, instead, I curled up in the van with my hoodie and took a nap.

Our first stop was at a gourmet cheese maker’s store.  Music to my ears.  I hadn’t gotten up in time for breakfast so I was excited for a snack…and cheese is my weakness.  (Even more so than wine!)  Everything they gave us to taste was delicious.  I bought a small block to snack on during the day and night but, since I was flying out the next day, I couldn’t get much else.

After that, we drove a bit to the Bruny Island “Neck”, a beautiful, thin stretch of beach.  We took a short climb up to the top of a hill which gave us the most beautiful vantage point of the island.  I was once again astonished at the beauty of Australia.  The more time I spend there the more I fall in love with the country.

Next we went to the historic Bruny Island lighthouse.   The long climb up the hill and spiral staircase were well worth it when I saw the view from the top.  Even more spectacular than the view from the long neck, we could see not only the entirety of the island but well into mainland Tasmania, including the southernmost point on the state.  South of that point, about 2,000 miles, was Antarctica.  Even though I’d be on the other side of the continent, it gave me goose bumps knowing that I was on my way there.

After a delicious lunch at The Bruny Island Hotel, we stopped at a gourmet chocolate shop – the perfect place for dessert.  I picked up some fudge with the intention of bringing it home to share with friends although I knew the chances of it lasting another month were slim to none.

After the chocolate shop, and still full from lunch, we went to an oyster bar.  I’ve mentioned my healthy appetite, right?  Well, there are certain things for which there is always room – sushi, Auntie Anne’s pretzels, cheese and oysters.  Bruny Island is famous for oysters and this particular restaurant was located across the street from the beach and oyster farm.  I don’t think it’s possible to get much fresher than that.  As expected, they were some of the best oysters I’ve ever had.  It was probably my favorite stop of the day.

At that point, it was time to head back to Hobart.  By now the weather was warm, sunny and beautiful so the ferry crossing was much more pleasant than in the morning.  I stood up front and enjoyed the wind in my hair and the beauty of Tasmania.

Before leaving the area, we made one more stop.  Yep, more food.  We swung by a little shop with homemade fruit ice cream.  I had the apple pie ice cream and it was heavenly.  By the way, I have zero regrets about how much food I ate that day.

By the time I got back to the hotel, I was exhausted from the long day so, once again, I took a little nap.  (Okay, it might have had more to do with the food coma than the long day.)  That night, I stayed close by, packed my bags and went to bed early.  I had to check out in the morning but my flight wasn’t till 9 pm the next night so I had one more full day to roam.

I woke up, checked out of my room and stored my luggage.  After that, I spent the day exploring Hobart’s famous Salamanca Market, an open-air market in the harbor every Saturday.  I LOOOOVE open-air markets and street fairs so this was the perfect way to spend my last day in Tasmania.  I bought some souvenirs, had my last Australian meat pie and pretty much just wasted the day away wondering around the harbor.

Then I remembered, there was one more thing I had to do before leaving.  I googled some tattoo parlors and found one open nearby.  This time, I only needed one circle, just for Australia, bringing the total to five – five rings for five continents.

Before I knew it, it was time to go to the airport.  I mentioned before how the Hobart airport is tiny.  Well, it’s pretty much just an airstrip and one building.  I figured it would be an easy check-in process.

I was wrong.

Apparently, the universe thought things had gone a little too smoothly for me the past week and wanted to throw me a curve ball.

To avoid going off on a War and Peace-sized rant, I’ll just say that I will never fly Jetstar airlines again and I will never book them for a future client.  The short version is that they were not clear about baggage fees and their representative was unethical, rude and condescending in handling the issue – an issue that myself and another couple, right next to me, were having at the same time which, to me, proves that it wasn’t just that I missed something when I booked my flight.  If it’s happening to multiple people, booking from multiple sites, than there’s a problem in their process.

Basically, they said that since I had not paid for my bag when I booked I had to pay more now PLUS $150 in excess weight fees ($15 per KG).  Okay, I can understand the cost for excess weight (although their rates were MONSTROUSLY higher than any other airline I’ve ever flown) and I even understand them charging me more for checking the bag on the spot than in advance.  The problem was that I wasn’t given the option to pay for my bag in advance in the first place.  The other couple had the same problem and we all tried, together, to work with the representative nicely.  This man was quite possibly the most condescending person I’ve ever met.

You know those people who have very little power so, when given a tiny amount, they lord it over others?  Those type of people get joy out of ruining other people’s days.   Yeah, that was him.  I was angry and I had a two-day trip ahead of me, including a night sleeping on the floor of the Melbourne airport.  This was not how I wanted the trip to start.

After eventually paying the fee and trading phone numbers with the other couple – we had all agreed to file a complaint and dispute the credit card charge – I made a decision.  Yes, this guy had the power to either understand our situation and at least reduce some of the fees or not.  But he did not have the power to ruin my day.  The power to do that is something I had to give him and I would not.

I was standing in line, waiting to board, trying to think of something to say to him when he took my ticket.  Oh yeah, he was also the gate agent.  Small airport, remember?  I was considering saying something smartass-y.  Then I thought I’d say something super sweet and obviously passive-aggressive.  I wanted nothing more than to take the low road.

I stopped for a second and prayed a little prayer for grace.  As good as it would feel, I didn’t want to stoop to an ugly level.  I prayed that, if I was supposed to say something to him, for God to let me know and to help me say something kind and, if not, to help me just keep my mouth shut and smile.

As I was standing there, still fantasizing about telling him off, a man came and stood behind me and started talking to me out of nowhere.  He was there with this daughter, helping his other daughter move into a new house.  His energy and attitude reminded me that the airline representative was literally the only Australian I had ever met that was anything less than wonderful.  The three of us talked as we waited in line – talked about our families, our travels and Australia.  Before I knew it, I was at the front of the line.  When the little mean mean tore my ticket I was so engrossed in conversation with two friendly people that I was completely distracted from my desire to vomit verbal rage.

It was another unexpected answer to a very small prayer.  I believe that man and his daughter were put there, at that moment, to help distract me from my anger so I wouldn’t act in a way that I would regret.  Instead, I was reminded that most people are wonderful and when we cross paths with the ones that aren’t we just have to be extra kind in return.

I got on the plane with a smile on my face instead of smoking anger from my ears.  I was on my way to a two-day stopover in Tahiti and then on to Easter Island.  This was the leg of the trip I had been looking forward to the most and I wasn’t going to let one guy ruin my excitement.  I tend to do that sometimes.  I can let one frustrating person or situation derail my attitude, lessening my own joy.  This is something I need to remember in everyday life.  I can’t control other people or their behavior but I can refuse to let them take away my happiness.  It’s not theirs to take.

It was going to be a long two days but I was on my way to paradise.  Eight days in the South Pacific.  I’d spend my birthday on Easter Island, a place I’ve dreamed of going for years.  I couldn’t think of a better place to turn 29…for the seventh time.

After Easter Island, I’d take the long trip to the south of Argentina and down to Antarctica.  I couldn’t believe how quickly this adventure was flying by and I was determined to savor every moment along the way.  I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  I’d never be in this beautiful, scary and exciting place and time again.