First thing first. I would like to put down in writing that the Australian tissue papers are superior for all practical purposes. They have better absorptive and retentive capacities than their Singaporean counterparts, which are flimsy and are of the fast disintegrating type. I should warn you though — they can prove fatal if used too vigorously. They are known to have caused bush fires in the Australian out-backs. Sorry to have jumped to one of my favorite topics without notice, but this occurred to me during my morning ablutions today, and I could not wait to tell you all.
I went to Brisbane, the Gold Coast and Sydney during my 8-day trip, and boy, did I enjoy it! Australian society is overwhelmingly urban and some townships and villages I went to were simply beautiful. But I liked Sydney the best. Not because it’s a pretty city, which it is not, but because of its quirkiness and the people’s zest for life (especially for holidays).
My first day in Brisbane was full of sights, sounds and smells (to be more precise, the fragrances worn by the Australian ladies of which I have lots to talk about). However, it was very uneventful, and made me wonder whether I had paid a tad too much for the trip. Later, I would realize that I was wrong there.
Australia is a very young country at heart, and so you would see the brashness and imagination of the young everywhere. I remember seeing an ad that went something like this: “Don’t be jerks, don’t get the mosquito bayonet in your butt, use the fart-it-hard (or some such) repellent.”
I spent the next two days on the Gold Coast where they have some of the most idyllic beaches you could set foot on. It so appears that an average Australian feels more at home on the beach than at home. I went to the famous Warner Bros movie world where the Batman movie was filmed. I tried the scariest roller coaster I’ve ever seen. It started raining at this time, and most of the Asian tourists who were to take the next trip in the coaster hurriedly got off it and scampered to safety. And the only ones left on it were some Aussies. They not only completed the trip, but went on to enjoy another two trips in the torrent. An illustration of the great Australian spirit indeed. It was as natural for them to do it, as was it for the pragmatic but faint-hearted Asians to take cover.
My nights in the Gold Coast were very chaotic. I guess I slept only four hours each night. The rest were spent wandering alone on the streets, frequenting nightclubs, or just sitting at a roadside cafe drinking in the sights and sounds, and watching the Aussie girls. They are built much on the lines of thoroughbred horses. They have relatively long faces, long limbs, and long everything. But the best I liked about them was their sharp slightly upturned noses with large eyes to match. Not to speak of their fine upholstery.
I went to one of the live shows in a nightclub called the ‘The Crazy Horse’. I was in the front row, and got talking to an Aussie race buff. One bar maid who looked like some tall Nordic goddess sold me my first drink and I bought her a drink to get the talking going. Towards dawn she had downed as many drinks as I had and I bought every one of them. Of course, she was great to talk to owing to the fact that she had to coo in my ears amidst the great sounds that emanated from the speakers and the strippers on the dais.
The next day at about 2:30 in the night, I was thinking of calling it a day when I chanced upon a streetside vendor watching the West Indies versus India match on his small telly. I had to buy a pack of cigarettes — although I have stopped smoking — so that I could watch some cricket. We got talking about cricket, and he told me he liked Tendulkar’s back lift and follow through. I said I liked back lifts and follow through-s too, but preferably of some Aussie girl. I gifted him the whole cigarette pack much to his delight.
The next day was spent mostly in Port Stephens, and a place called Nelson bay. Places that seemed more isolated in the night than any that I’ve visited. I stayed in a resort hotel that boasted of lawn tennis courts where the legendary McNamara, Fraser and Illi Nastase played. I also sailed to the middle of the ocean to watch dolphins play around.
My last three days were spent in Sydney. That was when I spent much of my energy (in the hot sun) and my film rolls. Sydney streets are a photographer’s delight. There are so many things happening everywhere. The Darling Harbour and the Museum of Contemporary Art are very interesting too. I went to the Manly beach on Sunday, and was lucky to see a surfing tournament going. The milieu of holidayers there and in the town square is terrific.
The King’s Cross and Oxford Street are the naughtiest and the most nocturnal of the lot. Needless to say I spent most of my evenings and nights there. Also, these roads are the cultural centers of Sydney, and you see lots of shops selling paintings, photographs, music, sex toys, books, pornographic stuff and gay art. There are a number of hookers all over the place, and once a fairly old one came to me and asked, “Young man, would you like some fun?” I guess she would put her customers off to sleep with her fairy tales and bedtime stories.
Although many cab drivers would not agree, these places also appear to be pretty unsafe. After coming back to my room one early morning from my previous day’s forays into the King’s Cross, I saw on the TV that somebody was badly beaten up there. Boy, was I shaken.
The Aussies look intimidatingly big and brawny. I always felt afraid walking there, although I used to be there all night. Once I banged my head on to the belly of a big fellow while ogling at a girl passing by, and thought that was the end of me. He simply said, “Sorry mate,” in a very mild tone and moved away.
They are also quite good-humored. I once asked a policeman for directions to a particular place. I opened the conversation with, “I need to go to George Street,” upon which he replied, “And good luck to you,” and moved away. He then came back, and walked me there.
Sydney, as I said, is overwhelming for the senses. There are girls with earrings in belly buttons, traffic lights that change too quickly for one to cross the road, and sea gulls (or are they ibises) all over the city. I once remarked about the earrings in belly buttons and also on eyebrows to a Lebanese driver. He said if you have been in the nightclubs, you would see them wearing them on other places on the body too. I wonder whether they are intentionally worn there at all, or they accidentally slip and get stuck in those places.
Australia, and Sydney in particular is being increasingly populated by Asians. I wonder whether they would contaminate the great Australian spirit. Among the immigrants are the Lebanese, the Greek, the Indians, the Turkish, the Jamaicans, the Filipinos, and the Chinese from Hong Kong. I once met a Turkish cab driver, who told me he watched Amitabh’s show ten years ago in Sydney. He was great to talk to. He finally declined to take my tip.
For those who want to take a trip to Oz, try to go on your own and not with a tour group. It’s an easy place to get around. But remember, wear dark glasses, smear lots of sunscreen lotion (the Australian sun can be very harsh), and buy yourself the famous Akubra hat. And then, get going blokes.
This is a Yobbo who just returned from Woolloomooloo (May 1996).
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Eclectic Musings by Ranga Sitaram 