11:37am
I've been watching Australian MTV so much that is occurs to me the music that's charting in Canada might be very different. (I wonder if they're listening incessantly to "Teenage Dirtbag" in Saskatoon.) Not that I ever cared much for popular music, but it's a thought.
4:19pm
It is a perfect day. There are few things that could make it better.
I'm sitting on the beach. It was a hot walk here, the sun is being very generous today. But here by the water, a cool breeze is bringing me the scent of the ocean. There are many more people on the beach today. It kind of makes me wish I had some company. (Robert just doesn't do the beach.) But I am enjoying my solitude. There are many more seagulls here today too.
If this trip has taught me one thing so far it is that I don't dig travelling by myself. It's not for the expected reason though, that it's too scary cuz it's not, I'm doing okay with that for the most part. It is moreso that I don't have anyone to share things with. I mean, even when I do things with Robert or Angela or any of the Australians I'm staying with, it's not quite the same. They are not on vacation. Well, Robert is, but not the same kind. All in all, I'd much prefer Shaughn or Amy to be on this trip (or any trip) with me. I no longer see that as weak, just logical.
I'm wearing my only halter top (my sisters didn't have time to make more) and it's the only thing that matches with the odd tan lines I'm getting. I've been watching my skin go deeper brown every day. It is still nothing to speak of, but it makes me happy. Part of me wonders if my darker skin will be to Shaughn like his shorter hair was to me after Europe. Imagine how we'll change after India. 4:33pm
4:57pm
A very unfunny boy in the water keeps yelling shark. Someone should teach him about wolves.
I stood in the surf watching it wash
debris onto my feet from last night's
festivities. I remembered the boy
telling me to wear shoes on the beach,
warning of discarded syringes in the
sand. He knows me well enough to
realize I don't need one more paranoia.
That's when I noticed a smooth brown
stone half buried which reminded me
of the one tossed upon a different shore
that became a feature of your poetry. I
picked it up and rinsed it in the saltwater.
Suddenly, everything was clean again.
to Sunday, November 26, 2000
to australian tour diary
oz = can
back to main
