August 2015
Hello girls and boys,
I hope everything is going splendidly! I'm a bit rusty at this, but I figured that a Honeymoon Travelogue: Australia Edition was sorely in order. For those who find such emails overly long or self-indulgent (or both), feel free to delete (but don't you dare ask me how Australia was). For everyone else, I hope you savor each word, just like David and I savored the fine taste of kangaroo.
To get us started, five general remarks:
1) Although over 10,000 miles from NYC, David and I felt that Oz was more culturally familiar than almost anywhere else--Western Europe included. I'm still working out why, but I suspect the lack of European refinement (i.e., Australia's Newish World vibe and folks' no-nonsense attitudes) play a major role.
2) We visited the Great Barrier Reef, but David and I didn't spend much time spotting wildlife (we both find non-humans to be wildly overrated), so we have nothing to say about the supposed cuteness of wallabies, wallaroos, joeys, wombats, rock wallabies, quokkas, leadbeater possums, or any other weird creature that pops into your head. We did have kangaroo and emu pizza, however, which tasted okay.
3) Everywhere we went, Australians emphasized to us their nation's horrific treatment of their aboriginal population. I've not done much formal touring in the U.S., but can't imagine that Native Americans get the same attention here (well, at least certainly not in Manhattan). Despite Aussies' explicit self-flagellation, however, this doesn't seem to have resulted in any particularly effective social policies.
4) Australians seem to universally love sports and the outdoors. Every culture has its flaws.
5) Finally, Australian dining. As folks know, David and I often judge other countries by their food, and Australiadid not disappoint. While I remain mixed on Australian wine (generally a bit oaky for my taste), Australian fine dining -- its version of New American cuisine, called "Mod Oz" -- was absolutely cracking (to use the local nomenclature). Indeed, it was so cracking that I'm actually enjoying fasting this Yom Kippur.
Now, onto the specifics:
After a 15-hour flight (and two lovely layovers in Cleveland and LA), David and I first arrived in Sydney, everyone's favorite ex-penal colony (Georgia aside). For those who haven't been, Sydney is much like Seattle. For those who haven't been to Seattle either, this means that Sydney is super-clean, rainy (at least when we were there), and extremely scenic, with widespread water views. While David immediately fell in love, I found things a tad antiseptic. That said, it was hard to complain given that our room directly faced the Sydney Opera House.
The city center is also relatively small (although the suburbs are a sprawling mess), which makes touring relatively easy. And while I won't tour-bore you, some highlights included 1) everything being named after Queen Victoria; 2) every bar claiming that it was the first established in Sydney; 3) lots of fountains, parks, and Uggs boots stores; and 4) a constant parade of joggers (capped off by the Sydney Marathon itself).
One last thing about Sydney is its residents' obsession with the Sydney Harbor Bridge. To be fair, David and I had an awesome time climbing to the Bridge's top (and got cool hats!), and, when constructed, the SHB was the largest arch-bridge ever attempted. For all the accolades it receives from the Sydney tourist bureau, however, I can't say the SHB struck David or me as any more impressive than your average big bridge--cooler than the Tappan Zee perhaps, but not as cool as the Brooklyn Bridge. One nickname for the SHB is "The Coathanger," which strikes me as pretty accurate.
We then traveled to Melbourne, which I thought blew Sydney out of the water (note: David strongly dissents). While not as pretty or clean as Sydney, Melbourne makes up for it in style. This city is a wanderer's paradise, full of random alleys that lead to more random alleys, and random shops containing random assortments of random objects.
At first, Melbourne felt a bit like Brooklyn, packed with eclectic coffee shops, weird bars, and (ugh) no-reservation restaurants. Fortunately, the random alleyways and general Australian attitude give Melbourne a charm all its own, and Williamsburg's horrid specter fled as quickly as it arose. We also met with my cousins, who gave us a behind-the-scenes tour of daily life in Australia. (Believe it or not, it's a whole lot like daily life in America, save for the constant use of such phrases as "ace," "happy days," and "righteous" (actually, I just made that last one up, but I hope it's soon adopted).) Although we spent only three days in Melbourne, I could easily have hung around for weeks.
Our next (and it turns out, last novel destination) was none other than the Great Barrier Reef. First, the positive stuff: the Reef is glorious (and quickly disappearing), with coral of every shape, size, and color that one can possibly imagine (and some that you probably can't). David and I debated scuba diving, but our laziness won out and we settled for snorkeling, which we found quite satisfying. The resort we stayed at on Hamilton Island--though obscenely expensive--was also glorious, the type of place that caters to your every whim and even ferries you to your own private beach.
Which brings me to the negative stuff (apart from my well-known hatred of beaches): when your private beach happens to contain millions of sand flies. For those unaware of how such creatures operate, sandflies are basically mosquitoes that live in the sand, find uncovered flesh, swarm up said flesh, and proceed to bite that flesh as much as physically possible (which it to say, a lot). Unlike mosquitoes, however, sandflies are very difficult to see, nor is it immediately clear when one is being bitten. To top things off, sandfly bites can itch for weeks and often take months to fully disappear. Which makes it quite annoying when, like me, you receive nearly 100 of them (David only got 60 or so).
That said, while this made for a few extremely annoying nights (when sandfly bites are at their itchiest), David and I now seem on the road to full recovery.
Seeking to leave the Reef behind, David and I prepared for our final destination: the gateway to the Outback, mightyUluruitself. Unfortunately,Adnoartina had other plans. The trouble began upon our arrival at the airport to leave Hamilton Island for Sydney, when we were informed that our plane's bathrooms weren't working and we might want to bring some empty water bottles aboard (to be fair, that last part was only implied). Things quickly went from bad to worse, however, as we were then informed that the plane itself was "no good" and a new one would be needed. Following a few more hours of waiting, we were finally told no new plane was actually coming that day, and the airline would put us up overnight before sending us back to Sydney.
While normally this wouldn't be a big deal, it was particularly problematic for two reasons. First, this meant no Outback: our flight to Uluru left early the next morning from Sydney, and no replacement flights were possible (so we'd spend the rest of our trip in Sydney, which meant more time being told how wonderful the Sydney Harbor Bridge was). Second, the airline accommodations didn't quite match our previous quarters. Rather, we were sent by ferry to Airlie Beach and waylaid at the rather tragic Club Crocodile, which would more accurately have been called Club Krokodil (though we did enjoy some tasty Chinese food at the appropriately named Tasty Chinese Restaurant next door). Thanks, JetStar.
Despite our hardships, we successfully fled the next day and made the most of our bonus time in Sydney, doing a beautiful cliffside beach walk from Bondi to Coogee Beach (studiously avoiding the sand), going on a wine tour in Australia's Napa-like Hunter Valley (though, predictably, the bus ride featured a video celebrating the Sydney Harbor Bridge), and visiting a cave in the so-called Blue Mountains (where I once again learned, then quickly forgot, the difference between stalactites and stalagmites).From there we had to leave our honeymoon behind, very satisfied, somewhat tanned, and completely covered in sandfly bites.
That’s it for me. If you’re in NYC, I’d love to get together before I begin work in a few weeks.
All the best,
Zach