Cleaned out apartment on Monday—technically checked out, but stayed there. Just stowed my impressive luggage collection back at the Friendly Backpacker and’ve returned the last library books of my time in Melbourne. It’s a bittersweet thing, leaving the city. Gah! there’s still so much I feel I want to do. But if I haven’t done them by now, I don’t expect I’ll get them done in the next 24 days.
24 days! I can’t believe that’s all I’ve got left! Things always seem to feel like forever, except when they’re about to be done. Pretty soon I’ll be saying: “24 hours! I can’t believe that’s all I’ve got left!” Or something very very similar. My time here has been good. My time here here, though, is over. Melbourne, you’ve been great.
I’m ready to go. My plane to Queensland will be leaving at 9:30 pm outta Tullamarine. But before that, I’ve still got postcards to send, a new friend to email, and a blog entry to write. Wait…
Nevermind.
As of not too long ago, I’ve got myself a ticket to Brisbane and a hostel for that night. Total cost: AU$135—which is good, cause as you may know I don’t have that much AU$ left. The flight gets in at 11:00 at night on Tuesday. From there, maybe the Whitsundays, maybe Fraser Island, maybe strait to the reef… I can’t say. But now, I’m pretty sure I’m going.
It’s official. I wanna come home.
I mean, Australia’s a nice place. I like it. If it seemed like I could stay longer I would, really I would. Problem is it doesn’t look that way. The logistics of going to Queensland, getting work, changing my flight, getting a tourist visa, changing my flight again, and then travelling around on godknows how much money for how long and where… it’s a bit much. Not that I’m scared of doing something like that; quite the opposite. I’m tired of doing something like that. I would like to have my familiar bed, my familiar computer, some nice American food, cable (surprisingly, I miss having 6+ channels), and some people who talk the same as me. It’d be a nice change is what I’m saying.
So I guess this means no tourista programme. All those Australians who gave me travel advice… “you have to see Kakadu,” “Perth is amazing in winter,” “see Uluru once, even if it means you spend a week getting there,” to them I’d like to say:
Well, thanks anyways. You have a lovely country. But it’s kind of expensive for me, you see. I have to go now. No really; it’s been nice. Maybe we’ll meet again someday. But I’m busy for a little bit, so, you know… call me. Thanks for everything, Australia.
It’s my week off. I came to Australia to work, and I have. Now I can do whatever I want. And what I want is urbex.
What is urbex, you ask? Urban Exploration. I first read about it in a very cool magazine I picked up called Transit. It’s traveller’s fare packed with articles on bullfighting, girls with pet kangaroos, Sir Richard Francis Burton, and Irish Pikees. The very last article was called “Cave Clans.” Subtitle: “urban explorers are going places they’re not supposed to.”
Hello! I had no idea that there was actually a name for this sort of thing. I was certainly aware of it since I’ve done my share. Ording was what we called it—because we lived on Fort Ord. Surrounded by the abandoned army base, there wasn’t much else to do on a sunny afternoon than explore the old empty shells all around us. One can find all manner of dilapidation: barracks, swimming pools, incinerators, railyards, sewage plants, firing ranges, and that’s the beginning of the list. So that’s what I did. And I became addicted.
You may be familiar with the concept of d�rive: exploring a city in a way that was not intended. I love it. And Urbex is exactly that. Not only is it a physical challenge hearkening back to the days of the intrepid tree-climb, it’s also a fantastic way to see something new. It’s literally underground tourism. The article spoke of a group of such explorers, the Cave Clan. They’ve been around about 20 years, bringing like-minded people together, sharing information, having underground parties and the like. Sounds awesome, right?
I’ve got a date. May the 14th, I’ve got a drain to explore. Which is not to say that I won’t be doing it sooner. You’ve been warned.
So what? I have not written in almost a month. My thing is broken. I can’t set the location anymore. Is this an excuse? Why even bring it up? Cause I’m a cheater. Within like, a day I’ll have that space filled in. Like it was never there. So enjoy the emptiness while you can. I’ll think of something to write. You just wait and see.
