The Great Ocean Road
7:06am
I don't want to be here. Even for everyone's best efforts, I am not made to travel this way.
Yesternight, a nice lady from Holland named Annie, who was one of the women staying in my room with me here at the Chapman Gardens YHA, tried her best to help me to be comfortable. She met 2 women, Kim from Belgium and Holly from America, who were going downtown for a drink, and suggested to them that they invite me along. They did. Strangely enough, even though I'd planned to go to bed soon to prepare for this early start and was in the middle of writing a story for Shaughn, my first instinct was to say yes. A little of that Johann-inspired refusingnoexperience stuff I guess. We took a tram into Melbourne's CBD where Holly found a sushi place she liked. Then we went to a slightly pretentious bar where I pretended I didn't drink. Both the girls were travelling by themselves and preferred it that way. I told them that this was going to be my last trip alone. They assured me I would get used to it. I disagreed. I am glad that there are people in the world who are comfortable and even enjoy visiting strange places on their own, but I am not one of them. I just don't see the point. I doubt I ever will.
So I haven't exactly been good company. I really have been trying...not very hard, but I have been. I just don't like it here, but I'm not crying.
Looks like a bunch of teenage boys are coming down into the common room for breakfast. A bunch of teenage boys is generally my cue to leave. 7:22am
12:26pm
I've got a belly full of lamingtons and my lap is covered in coconut left behind. Everyone
is just getting back on the bus from a photo stop along the Great Ocean Road. I couldn't see
much point in taking pictures against the commemorative arch of the 83 bushfires when I
don't even have anyone to be in it. I guess I could bring home pictures of random Asian
tourists. Oh, boo hoo, how pitifully lonely I can make myself out to be.
A lady named Judy from Perth is sitting beside me. Judy thought I was American. An honest enough mistake, as I'm pretty sure I'm the only person from North America on this bus. Judy seemed impressed to hear I'm travelling alone from Canada. See, only hostel people think I am not brave.
Another photo stop, this time at Mount Defiance. Our guide, Cooky, promises to tell us a story about it once everyone's back on board. He is somewhat amusing, but I think a lot of his jokes are lost in the translation for many of these people. I like photo stops now mainly because they give me a chance to write legibly and without motion sickness. Uhoh, the bus is moving.
All these surfers along the road make me wanna see Point Break.
Koala spotting photo stop. I don't think they're spotting any koalas.
Cooky says that in Aboriginal culture, when a person dies all of their possessions are disposed of and they are never spoken of again. It is for this reason that they didn't like having their photo taken, not because they thought it was stealing their soul, but because the photo would be a memory of their existence after they were gone and they couldn't move on until no one on earth remembered them anymore. That's pretty extreme of course, but I see evidence in my own family to suggest that they had the right idea. 12:42pm
1:17pm
I've really got to master the skill of not crying after minor catastrophes. Like when the only
thing on the menu without meat is a bowl of chips and you really want something else..that
minor. But I got less than six hours of sleep last night, we've been driving all morning and I'm
sick from the motion, very few people on this bus trip speak english properly and none of them
look like me, I am nervous and scared and lonely and so far from home and my back hurts. I
am allowed to be emotional. Still, that's no excuse to be crying in the corner of this
restaurant. 1:20pm
4:15pm
I pulled a Marilyn Monroe on the boardwalk at the Twelve Apostles. I hadn't counted on
the ocean wind when I put on my long wrap skirt this morning. I will have to pay more
attention to the wind.
I took pictures of the Apostles mostly to prove I was there. A zealous Asian boy offered to take a bunch of pictures of me after I did the same favour for his family. The entire horizon here is pretty spectacular, but I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted Shaughn to be beside me looking too.
You'd been to the station to meet every train" - Famous Blue Raincoat, L. Cohen
4:20pm
Nobody wants to come here, a dripping cave opposite the Loch Ard Gorge. It's just as well.
So peaceful here without the tourists. I can hear their voices echoing against these walls
from the cliffs above. When I walked in it was like spirits trapped here were trying to
communicate. Just tourists, that I can see climbing the steps back to reality. I could sit here a
long time, but I'm afraid the bus will leave me behind.
4:50pm
The sky turned dark right after I finished that entry. It only rained a little but the wind was
bitchingly cold. The signs say you're supposed to allow 2-3 hours to explore this particular
stop. Cooky gave us 40 minutes. You won't see any pictures of me here, only places that
I've stood trying to compose the best shot possible. Cooky's counting us again and we're ready
to leave.
5:23pm
We've stopped for a tea break (I really mean tea that time, not supper) in Port Campbell.
I've chosen to stay on the bus like the elderly, rather than sit outside under the threatening
sky.
I think Shanda would really like Cooky.
By the end of this week, I'll be ready to go home.
5:34pm
The nice Asian photo-taking boy has been studying in Australia. He just graduated and
his family came over for the occasion. He said travelling alone from Canada is brave. I have
to write that down every time someone says it so I'll have evidence to show people when they
say I am weak. Or when I think that myself.
5:57pm
London Bridge really did fall down in 1990.
This is getting ridiculous. I ran to the lookout point and snapped a picture before I noticed how cold the wind was. This is a five minute photo stop, Cooky announces. If Shaughn were with me, we could spend days here.
It occurs to me that anyone reading this might be getting sick of hearing about all the places I wish Shaughn were. But if that's the case, and you want to continue knowing me in whichever way you happen to, then you better get used to it because I am going to want Shaughn everywhere I go for the rest of time. But don't worry, I probably won't write it down every time.
7:20pm
I am having trouble writing the climax of the story I'm inventing for Shaughn. Every
single word makes me want to cry because I miss him more today than all the other days I've
been gone combined. So when I'm writing about things I have to wait to do with him, the
distance and the time seem overwhelming. And that's not what I need today.
to Wednesday, December 6, 2000
to australian tour diary
oz = can
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