Wanderlust Heaven!

And on to Sydney, my final stop in Oz.  I worked in Sydney in 2000-01 and have very fond memories of the city and its people.  The projects I worked on were my all-time favorites, I had a great group of clients there, several of whom are now good friends, and the city itself just sparkles.  This visit was to be short – just 2 days, really – and I stayed with my ex-colleague George Crocker and his family.  George is running a food products business near Sydney and seems to be very happy about living in Sydney.  I can’t blame him.  I picked a terrible time to visit – George and family had just moved houses a few days before I arrived (but somehow their new house looked perfect) and then were leaving on holidays the very day I was leaving Sydney.  So they had a lot on, but it all worked out fine. 

As I left the airport and headed into the city I noticed 2 Krispy Kreme shops, and was a bit surprised that this chain was popping up in Oz.  It was a huge thing in the US 5-6 years ago…before the Atkins diet craze…which is now old news.  So I wondered about Krispy Kreme’s infiltration of Oz and whether it would have a rollercoaster ride a la the US experience. 

I spent most of the daytime each day walking around my old haunts – Darling Harbour, where I once lived, the Rocks area which has many sights (and pubs), Manly Beach (named because one of the early British administrators thought that the local Aboriginal men looked toned, confident, and ‘manly’) and downtown.  I also took some ferries across the harbour and soaked up the sunshine.  Sydney gets about 330 days of sun a year and has nearly perfect weather, similar to L.A.  I was nostalgic about my time in Sydney years ago – my living conditions were good, the work was busy but enjoyable, and I was able to catch the 2000 Olympics.  Everything had come together very nicely for me and I recalled it warmly. 

One might I went out for drinks and dinner with my friend Bernie, whom I met through my old buddy Iain.  It was good catching up with Bernie – he’s a self-assured, sharp fellow and good fun.  We met at the excellent ECQ Bar at the Quay Grand Hotel – which overlooks Circular Quay and the Harbour Bridge.  There aren’t many finer views you can have with a beer in your hand – although the 36^th-floor Horizons Bar in the Shangri-La Hotel across the way is very close competition.  We later on moved over to a nice Japanese restaurant for a real feast – I hadn’t had Japanese food for some time and it hit the spot.  Bernie and I spent a fair bit of time discussing business and real estate, and I want to continue this dialogue with him in coming months as there may be something we can join forces on.   

The next night – my last night in Sydney/Australia and also the eve of my 39^th birthday – I went out with an ex-client and good friend whom I hadn’t seen in a couple of years.  I’ve always admired this fellow’s sense of irreverence – when I was working for him he never let me get too serious, and he taught me a few critical lessons about enjoying the ride.  We wound up in the city at several ‘mature entertainment’ places and caught up on life, business, and the other key stuff.  He recently left his long-time employer (and my ex-client) and took a break…he’s now focusing on some real estate projects and perhaps some independent consulting as well.  Given my interest in Australia and Aussie real estate, he had some helpful counsel, and there may just be some ways for he and I to work together in the near future.  I’m trying to avoid doing much serious thinking about life after my trip, and business opportunities I should focus on – but I also shouldn’t micro-manage my thought patterns and conversations and if that’s what comes up, then I’ll run with it.  My friend also gave me some useful insights on families and being proactive about letting those whom you love know it.  I’m not particularly skillful in that area so will take his advice to heart starting now.

Our evening went quite long – and we had some fine views.  I didn’t get home till about 3:30 a.m., and had to get up 3 hours later to say goodbye to George and his family (wife and daughter were flying to Taiwan that morning), and then head to the airport myself.  As expected, my 39^th birthday didn’t come in gently, and in fact as I sit here on a flight to Manila tapping out this posting, my head still hurts a bit.  I’m sure we would have been out late no matter what…but in any event it was a great way to usher in my birthday and I think it’s one I’ll long remember.  The next day, my friend couldn’t remember where he stashed his car…hopefully he’s figured it out by now!

So the Aussie portion of my journey is now over.  I had a fine month and will miss Oz.  I’m certainly excited about next destinations, right now the Philippines – and per my point in an earlier posting, it’s hard to feel sad when you’re not returning to your cubicle/desk.  But Oz does have a way of grabbing you and even changing you.  Whenever I’m there I’m struck by the sense of ‘mateship’ (even if it may be diminishing) and the sunny nature of the people.  And while real estate and cars are as big an obsession as they are in the States or elsewhere, I do feel that Australians are generally good at valuing experiences and mood over possessions.  I came to realize that years ago while living in Sydney, and also realized that this is one of my core values.  I don’t have many possessions, and generally feel that by owning things you wind up having to take care of them, fix them up, etc.  It really detracts from thinking time and getting out there in the world.  That’s my view, anyway, and when I’m in Oz I feel a certain connection with the overall vibe.  So perhaps I’ll be back there soon, in some capacity.  Stay tuned.

There’s more about Byron Bay than can be said in a blog of infinite length. I won’t even attempt to be comprehensive about my stay in this lovely little spot – but be forewarned that my filtering skills are still pretty weak and this may be a long read…

I first visited Byron about 6 years ago, when I spent the Xmas holidays there with my friend Iain and his friend Bernie. I had never heard of the town before, despite working in Sydney for some time earlier that year. To make a long story short, I had a fun holiday in Byron and have returned 3-4 times over the years. I’ve never seen a place that brings together so seamlessly the well-heeled (Paul Hogan from Crocodile Dundee has/had a home there) and those who can’t afford heels of any sort. It’s both a hippy hangout and an Australian Riviera, and you’re as likely to see a ‘feral’ individual in town from the wooden hinterlands to pick up some basic necessities as you are a Sydneysider tooling around in a Benz. Byron’s popularity is pretty much universal, at least throughout Oz – which explains why real estate prices have skyrocketed and the town’s having a hard time maintaining that old time feeling.

I got into town on a Thursday evening and dropped my pack off at my grotty hostel. This place was particularly unpleasant – paper-thin walls, stained carpets, and filthy bathrooms. Despite my pledge to ‘suck it to the base’ and thrive in any sort of conditions, I felt compelled to switch hostels the next day, and found a much better place. I guess I’m just a bourgeois Jewish kid at the end of the day…

That Thursday night I walked around town, noted the changes that had taken place, and ducked into a few pubs to wet my whistle. One of the livelier places is the Great Northern Hotel, which (as I noted in an earlier posting) is more of a pub than a ‘hotel,’ and as unpretentious as they come. As I stood at the bar nursing a beer, a group of revelers walked in, with one of them wearing a pink pig outfit. I wasn’t sure what they were celebrating, and after an hour of drinking with them I still couldn’t make it out – but they were a joyful group and the fellow in the pig suit only stopped dancing around to sip his beer every now and then. Most of the customers in the pub didn’t look twice at the ‘pig’ – because things like this seem to happen regularly in Byron.

I moved on soon after that, and ended up having a phone call with my brother-in-law Dave, who’s always been good about getting me on the phone despite massive distances and time differences. As I was speaking with Dave I noticed that a guy who was staying at my hostel was lying passed-out drunk against a parked car next to another pub. I recalled seeing him pounding beers at the hostel’s bar quite early in the evening, and admiring his stamina. I planned to give him a hand once I got off the phone with Dave. But as soon as we finished up, it started to pour and I ran inside to wait it out. Once the rain stopped and I emerged, the drunk guy was gone – I imagine the rain woke him up, or perhaps he simply melted away. I never saw him in my ensuing days in Byron. I suppose the rain was probably good for him, and it was certainly good for Oz, which struggles with water supply and could use a year’s worth of rain.

Towards the end of the evening I walked into The Beach Hotel. You guessed it, another pub, although this establishment is actually a real hotel as well, and a very nice one at that. But the pub is sprawling and perhaps the nerve center of Byron Bay. The outdoor tables look onto the beach and surf, there’s nightly live music, never a cover charge, and the mix of people is wondrous. People tend to stay there all day and all night, drinking, eating and socializing. As I was ordering a drink one afternoon a Hell’s Angels type asked the bartender where he could smoke. About 9 hours later, when I came back to the bar for round 2, the biker was still there. For all I know, he’s a wealthy entrepreneur in Sydney and likes to dress down and get hammered in Byron. Anyway, I have to say that The Beach Hotel is probably one of the better all-round bars I’ve seen – particularly on a sunny day or on a night when they’ve got a good band on. Australians may roll their eyes at this rating – perhaps it’s a cliché – or perhaps they’ve known this for many years and don’t want the place to get any more crowded. If you go to Byron, you’ll spend a few hours at this place, for sure. It’s very difficult not to have a good time there.

The only issue I had that night was when I ordered a margarita at The Beach Hotel – and was charged $14 for it. Given that my hostel was only $50, this felt rough – and the wrong way to go given that a Victoria Bitter draft was only $4. The margarita was very good, expertly mixed and all that, but believe me when I say that I sucked and ate every single ($3) ice cube in there!

My final stop that evening was in La La Land. This is a little dance place that has excellent DJs and attracts some funky types. Nice feeling to the place, primal beats coming through at high volume, everyone’s dancing, wearing some eye-popping outfits, and in their own groove. I’m glad it’s still around, it’s a nice way to finish off the night. And you really can’t argue with the name…La La Land. I love it.

My dive trip the next day was cancelled due to bad weather, and I didn’t schedule much else, preferring to sleep late, walk around, and chill. On Sunday I did succumb to the siren call of organized activities and went on ‘Jim’s Alternative Tours.’ This is a bus full of (mostly) backpackers which visits inland towns, most notably the tiny village of Nimbin. Nimbin is Oz’s Woodstock – there was a anti-war protest/Aquarius festival there in 1973, and from all accounts many people never left. I think that almost every single resident smokes pot, and that the majority also sell it. There’s a special little establishment called the ‘Hemp Embassy’ which is a lot like the hash bars of Amsterdam. This was seconded by two Dutch backpackers I was with – they seemed to know how to operate in these sorts of places and pretty soon we were best mates. Let’s just say that the bus ride home was interrupted often, either by munchy-breaks or by loud giggling. When I got back to Byron I went out for a bite (probably my 7th meal of that day), and a couple drinks, before I collapsed for the night. Good fun, as anticipated. The next day when I woke up and showered, I noticed that my little travel bottle of shampoo is the brand ‘Herbal Essences.’ How apt.

I also spent a bit of time in The Arts Factory, which is a backpackers lodge kluged together with a restaurant, pub, and second-run movie cinema. It’s a remarkable place…particularly when you find out that it was once a pig slaughterhouse. When I first visited Byron the restaurant was called ‘The Piggery’ and oddly enough, served only vegetarian fare. It seems they’ve given in, though – it’s now called Buddha Bar (boringly enough) and serves anything you’d like. I think that long-term residents of Byron really feel that the special quirkiness of ‘the old days’ is slowly vanishing under a commercial onslaught…and even I feel that way a bit, from my 4-5 visits over time.

A few other unrelated observations, in no particular order:

• Backpackers (and young people in general) seem heavier and bigger than they were 15-20 years ago – and I’m not talking just about myself. Is this an obvious statement? Probably so. I’m not sure why this might be – is it aggressive marketing of junk food? Natural growth from reducing (Western) disease and hunger? People having more discretionary income? There are certainly more options these days for filling your belly – better food (imagine trying to find a Thai place 20 years ago), 24-hour stores, etc. Even the crappiest hostels seem to have little restaurants and vending machines. When I traveled around Europe way back when, there were times when I couldn’t find anything to eat and just dealt with it. Now, it’s easy to lounge around stuffing cakes and sandwiches into your gullet.
• I’ve started dreaming again while on this trip. I’m not sure when I stopped having/remembering my dreams, but it seems a long while. I discussed this with my step-sister Amanda while in Boston, before the trip, and she told me she dreams and remembers her dreams pretty much every night. I thought that was cool…and wondered what was going on with me. Anyway, I’ve had nightly dreams lately and can recall a good portion of them. I think it’s probably a healthy thing and indicates my mind is being challenged and is “recharging” during the nighttime. I’ll let you know if I have any special dreams – PG-13 rated, natch. I should try to keep this blog ‘family friendly’ – of course that may include the Manson Family…
• Is there a single greatest human characteristic? Perhaps not, but it does strike me that perhaps the most valuable on a daily basis is the ability to compartmentalize. If you can’t do that, any medium-sized problem in any aspect of your life – love, health, finances, work, etc. – can overwhelm the whole deal. I like to think I’m good at compartmentalizing – perhaps a 7 on a 1-10 scale – but I’ve met people who are true masters…and it seems nothing really bothers them. When you factor in the lack of stress, wasted time, etc., these people have it pretty good.
• On the same topic: my other two candidates for ‘greatest characteristic’ are 1) wit and 2) grace. Wit is self-evident. As for grace, it’s perhaps best considered in its absence. I find nothing so disturbing as to watch/hear someone lose their cool. And I’ve spent a lot of time in airports, train stations, in tense business meetings, and so forth – all prime times for someone to lose it and go off. It’s OK to get angry about something you’re passionate about, and no one expects humans to be robots – but I find it deeply unpleasant to watch someone get unhinged in public. You wonder what’s the underlying driver, I suspect there are various frustrations at play which run deep. Perhaps people who fly off the handle regularly lack the ability to compartmentalize. Ah, it feels good to tie up that knot! And thanks for humoring my dime-store philosophies, dear readers.

Finally, a question for you: should I be posting some photos on the blog? Thus far I’ve stuck to the text, out of a sense of ‘purity’ and a greater sense of laziness. But if there is some demand for graphical accompaniment, well then I’ll stick some of my many photos on the blog, at least for the future postings. Drop me a comment – about this topic or any other.