Rottnest Island (not Freo pt 3)
I took the ferry out to Rottnest Island to rent a bicycle and snorkel. No cars are allowed on the island-just the occasional bus or garbage truck-and bicycles. Crazy amounts of bicycles. The roads or trails on the island cover about 26 km all over the island. When I first got on I was pretty wobbly. I remember the last time I rode a bicycle was when I tried out Elaine’s new bike she got for the triathlon. Before that, I have no recollection. And I didnt’ recall why I hadn’t ridden a bicycle-until a few hours into the day. I’m writing this the day after and my butt is still sore.
I rode up to the first snokel spot and geared up. I swam out to the dark part of the water, where the reef was. I’m still a little apprehensive about snorkeling as fish still creep me out. Why-I have no idea. The waves were huge and kept on pulling me extremely close to the reef and then threw me back towards shore. After figting the waves for about 10 minutes, I gave up. I was afraid I’d touch the reef and damage it. I started riding my bike westward so I could look out at the Indian Ocean.
I got to the westernmost point of the island (after stopping a few times to enjoy the blue ocean and monstrous waves, not to mention rest my butt bone) and sat. And stared. And thought-mostly about how much I love Australia. And how I don’t want to leave. I even said to myself (surprise, Meghan) out loud, “I don’t want to go to New Zealand.” I want to stay here. I love summer. I love being in the water, I love being near the water, I love looking at the water. It was amazing realizing that what I was looking out at went on forever until South Africa-or Madascar-or a few random islands. Just water from here to there. Too cool. Then common sense took over and I realized that I can’t stay here, my visa runs out in the middle of March and I have a non-refundable ticket to New Zeland in February.
So after a while of staring out at the ocean, I got up and headed towards some more snorkel spots. There’s a shipwreck that you can view but I never made it there. I got off my bike, vowed never to ride a bicycle again, and laid on the beach. And laid there for a few hours, falling in and out of sleep, allowing the waves to lull me into a zone where I just chilled. I didn’t think, I just laid there. It was wonderful.
I instinctively got up and just made it before the ferry took off back for Fremantle, relaxed at the hostel and nursed my sunburn for the rest of the night.
Tags: Australia
lauracat
I am so enjoying your travel log. I find it strange that we Andersons, who hail form the land locked Midwest, have the same reaction to the water. I often described my love of water the in the same terms as you did. I feel most at peace being in, on or near the water, preferably in the sun. While I hate ticking clocks, I “zone” to the repetitious sound of the waves. Perhaps it is our seafaring ancestry cursing in our veins.
hahahah
ohh and have you been giggling in the showers?
In my younger days, I used to giggle in the shower, not so much any more.
But do the Andersons really hail from the Midwest? Doesn’t it go back farther than that? And perhaps our love for water is from our Viking ancestry-but I’d rather be in the water than slapping on it in a boat.
Laura, You must finish up by writing a book. Take care. Love, Gramma
I had a similar experience when I was wondering why I hadn’t been riding bikes…I found out the same way you did how uncomfortable they can be on the butt bone!!!!
Everything you write is just so perfect and so descriptive, it’s as if we are all there with you….you’re doing great telling us all these awesome places and things you are experiencing!!! I’m loving reading it!!!
I definately agree with Gramma……you need to write a book.
By the way, LOVED the postcard!!!
I feel your peace and regret about leaving Australia and I’m not even there. Powerful writing.