Report From Downunder
Journey Downunder Part II
March 2007
Leaving New Zealand was hard for me as I found many interesting appealing aspects of life there. In spite of the clear presence of the new world order, magic and wonder still ruled the land. I found the people from many walks of life engaging and kind. But I also felt the islandness of the place and I knew once I left that it would seem to me a small wonder on the planet. There are some huge challenges to overcome there (which I will elaborate on when I write out a full report) though I am hopeful when I think of that land.
Off to Brisbane
Returning to Australia was challenging for me but I knew it was such a big place that I needed to go deeper to better understand it. These were my feelings as I flew from Auckland the thousand miles to Brisbane. There I was hosted by a wonderful couple, Dawn and Peter, who have found a wonderful groove for themselves. They have a house full of books and worldly artifacts. Brisbane is in southern Queensland and is subtropical. Despite being in a drought it is still relatively green. Their backyard is a little jungle full of palms, flowers and birds. I was delighted to be there and had wonderful times getting to know these well-developed human beings.
On my first day there Dawn took me to the Botanical Gardens laid out with creative architecture and tropical plants of the world. When I got to the Australian Section I slowed down to try to take in its diversity (70% of AU’s 22,000 plants live in northeast AU). There was so much there I came back a couple of days later for another go and knew then I would need to come back to AU if for nothing more than to try and get to know better these oldest tropical beings on the earth.
The next day Peter took me on a memorable journey to a rainforest in the hills outside Brisbane. Nothing feeds my soul like time in old growth woods. Huge strangler figs dominated and many fungal friends appeared to delight us including beartooth, honeys, chanterelles and Amanitas. We saw a wallaby scurry by and I got to see my first kookaburra chilled out on a limb waiting for handouts. The birds and reptiles downunder really trip me out!
During my time in Brisbane Peter feed us good homemade food and played some wonderful folk and classic guitar. On my last day Dawn and I walked through her garden. She has even made a plant list much to my heart’s content.
Rainbow Country
From Brisbane I hitched a couple memorable rides down to Byron Bay to intersect with a rainbow brother, Marcus, author of the travelers’ companion, "Vagabond Globetrotting". He really made me feel welcome and made great efforts to look after me and hook me up. We shared stories and went swimming in Byron Bay with some of the most beautiful ocean water I have ever swam in. Then we went to Mulimbimbi Saturday Market full of Brothers and Sisters selling their wares and a soulful drum circle.
Then we headed inland to the rainbow temple. We were given a tour by an elder named Guy who has been there nearly thirty years building this hip retreat space. One of the highlights is a several story tall chakra temple. Another is a tunnel he is building under the center. It was so meditative to be under ground in this sound chamber listening to his vision of future labyrinths. Guy and I settled down to some wonderful irie sharing about how he had traveled the world eventually coming to there to settle and create this haven for travelers.
From there we journeyed to the famous center of hippydom, Nimbin. On the way we passed by majestic Mt. Warning, the enduring lava tube of an ancient volcano. I was complaining to Marcus that even in the homelands of Macadamia nuts (though 90% of them are grown in Hawaii) they sell for the same price as the US. Around us were plantations of macadamias. And as soon as I uttered the words, "Why aren’t there little stands from farmers selling them?" there appeared to our right one of those farmer’s stands. So we stopped and got both shelled and unshelled wonderful local nuts.
Evening was coming so we just drove through Nimbin. Just in that passing through I could feel the unique vibe of the place and that the rainbow caravan had touched down here. I looked forward to going deeper the next day. We stayed the night at a near by permaculture settlement caretaken by a man named Wolfgang. I spent the night in a refurbished train car. The next morning Wolfgang gave me a ride to Nimbin for the Sunday market. In addition to checking out the town, I hoped to have some time with a well-known bush tucker (wild food) expert named Koa. On the way into town I heard a rich account from Wolfgang of his philosophies towards permaculture as they compared to Mollison’s,
In Nimbin I truly felt I had come home—like a large established welcome home camp. Rusty at the Nimbin Environmental Center showered me with kindness and help. I toured the Cannabis Museum and walked about town feeling the vibes. I was so lucky to catch the once a month market which was sheer delight. In many ways it was a dreamlike scene. It takes place next to the rainbow community center near the center of town. Talented family took to the open mike to share songs with us. One person sold a wonderful array of horticultural plants from Hawaiian woodrose to yage to Psychotria. There were flower essence vendors, crafts of all kinds and many food stalls. I could not believe my eyes when I saw a man selling south Indian food. He called himself a Dosa Walla. He made organic Dosai with tasty fillings served on banana leaves. We talked a while sharing stories. I was in awe of his dedication.
The only missing piece was Koa. He did not appear but I was led to his landmate, Bodhi, who invited me to the land and said I would find Koa there. In the afternoon I hitched back to Wolfgang’s and Marcus took me out to where Koa lives. As evening came I approached his lean-to and there he was. He had a minor eye injury so had decided not to go to town that day. We sat in the dusk and got acquainted. Koa has a soft-spoken demeanor and deep convictions towards getting our family ready for the coming changes. He has made several DVD’s to give people confidence about the abundance in the bush. His website is: www.bushtucker.ws/
For the night I went back to the community house and set up a camp spot. This land is owned by the world-renowned John Seed. He and the half a dozen people I got to know over the next several days amazed me. The next morning Bodhi took me on a walk through the permaculture gardens. I was very impressed with the level to which they had developed plant guilds (communities). They had also made some beautiful cactus gardens. Much to our delight we discovered that we had mutual friends at Moonshadow, TN.
One brother I particularly bonded with is the local plant knowledge keeper there, Gareth. He has amassed a impressive library on plants, healing ways, and indigenous cultures. In addition, he has compiled many subject binders of articles along the same lines. He is of the same mold as a couple of contemporary plant heroes Dale Millard and Dan Madrone Nicholson. Gareth took me on a plant walk around this beautiful land surrounded by national park. In addition he arranged for another well-known bushtucker master, Peter Hardwick, to come for a visit.
On that day a small intimate circle of Koa, Peter, Gareth and myself played off each other for hours sharing stories on all sorts of topics from B12 to acorns to DMT in Acacias to the fallacies of reductionism. We talked about lots of plants and sampled different bush tucker including large steamed Banya Pine nuts (an Araucaria), Suillus mushrooms, and a Davidson plum cordial. We even eventually got out for a walk about the land. With these formidable people one can really feel the abundance of nature. I was touched beyond what words can tell.
Off to the Top End-Darwin
You can imagine how hard it was for me to leave the Nimbin region but I had been empowered by the prayers and donations of the circle to fly off to Darwin. As the saying goes, "Parting is such sweet sorrow". I felt I would come back in a few years to see how this back to the land movement was maturing.
In the morning I was kindly given a lift by John to the main road and four rides later I was in Brisbane. I caught a late night flight to Darwin arriving at 1:30 am, catching a shuttle to a hostel, and waking the next morning in a tropical zone about 12 degrees from the equator. I arrived at the end of the rainy monsoon season with it humid and full green. I could not imagine what this land was like after the coming 5 months of no rain. It was just before the tourist season but tourism was already gearing up in its ugly manifestations.
I befriended several people at the hostel and heard their stories. Each day I followed leads to get the most from my time there. Darwin has a colorful history which involves it being blasted to smithereens twice: First by the Japanese bombers during WW II for being a haven for US warships. Secondly, in 1974, from the power of Cyclone Tracy’s 200+ mph winds. I visited the museum and one of its highlights was a sound chamber which blasted a recording made during the cyclone—the sounds of a train from hell! Many died each time and the cyclone leveled most houses.
I visited the old botanical gardens taking in its lush tropical vibe. The whole area was a wonder to walk through with it coconut palms, so many kinds of palms and native Baob (Adansonia) and fruiting Noni trees. Rainbow colored parrots flew all about. I walked a neglected aboriginal plant walk but still gained some good knowledge nuggets. I also read a big sign of a man named Ian Fairweather. What a story! He headed out in 1952 from Darwin in a scrapyard made boat and somehow made it 400 miles to Timor. Famous as artist and adventurer, he seemed to walk that line of master and crazy man, I read with interest some of his translation of "The Drunken Buddha". Darwin is right on the coast and I enjoyed collecting shells (those not occupied by hermit crabs) . Swimming was discouraged due to the abundance of jellyfish. I visited three markets in the area each with their own charm full of Indonesian-Asian cuisine and local contemporary crafts. Darwin has a beautiful bay front and in the evenings I would watch huge fruit bats fly about. Australia also has an amazing diversity of different reptiles.
I often say to people that if you can only visit somewhere for a day it is still worth it. There are so many millions of impressions that come through experience that no story or picture can convey. One of the realizations I had was that Aborigines do not represent one culture. Prior to European colonization there were over 200 different languages spoken—now only 50 survive. There were groups of aboriginal people around the town. I would sit by them sometimes trying to feel their vibe. Though we were physically near we were worlds apart. These were the city dwellers often with plastic bottles of some sort of spirits in them. Try as I could, I was not able to connect. This brought up a lot of frustration for me and each of the leads to finding some sort of intermediary or other way to connect ended fruitless. It was as though there were three societies there—tourist, locals, and aborigines and their mixing was minimal. For example, I found one tourist group that offered a half day walk with native people. They wanted $88 per person and a minimum of three people. I was willing to do this. I put up signs around town to get two other people but nothing came from it and the company was not willing to budge any. There was a frustration in all that within myself and the situation.
Kakadu World Heritage Site
Eventually I decided to rent a car and headed several hours south to feel the land and to check out the famous Kakadu cave drawings. I am so glad I did though the journey took me beyond my edges.
My first stop was this little known hot spring a couple of hours south. I cruised into the outback in my little Hyundai. Flooding was present all around. Where I went and what I did was largely dictated by these annual floods. Few people knew much about these springs and as I headed towards them I crossed several precarious spots , but on I went eventually coming to a gate with a sign that said, "Spring closed due to flooding". Undeterred I packed a small bag, left a note on the car and hiked the remaining kilometers to the springs. The sun there is particularly penetrating so I used my yoga mat as a sunshield. I saw a number of kangaroos and a small herd of water buffaloes thundering off left me saying, "holy shit, holy shit". I later found out that water buffalo were introduced from Timor in the 1820’s and propagated to become among the largest wild herds in the world. I forded one thigh high deep stream with thoughts of crocodiles, water snakes and leeches. But decided to drop my stuff and go back for a plunge anyway.
Once at the campground I was so excited to have the place to myself. Each campsite had a raised platform and I picked one near the river. I ate some lunch and then heard a sound in the distance like a strong wind but it persisted. I realized a downpour was coming and so I grabbed my handydandy tarp and took shelter with my stuff. It rained steadily for over an hour and pools of water formed all around the platform. But I and my stuff were still quite dry in my little cave. I curled up and daydreamed drifting back to childhood memories of sitting under blankets and in tents during rainstorms.
Eventually it passed and I came out into a beautiful evening. I was taken in by the beauty of the forest and big white parrots with lime green flushes saying, "Uh-oh, Uh-oh." I tried to ignore their ominous calls. I was aware that it was likely the hot spring was submerged in the swollen Douglas River, but I wandered around hoping for the best. I took pictures of lots of amazing plants: Zamias, paperbarks, Acacias and many familiar weeds.
There was a wonderful sign welcoming us balanda (non-aboriginal people) to this sacred spring which Aborigines bring their daughters for puberty ceremonies. There were several areas off limits to outsiders. I followed the river a little ways and saw a small tributary coming in. I put my foot into it and glory be is was nice and hot. With nightfall I realized I had forgotten my flashlight but luckily the moon was gibbous. I followed the stream a little bit and it flowed from a big hot bilabong (a pool that endures through the dry season).
By moonlight I immersed myself in the hot water so vibrant and clean, My body tingled and I heard all sorts of sounds and thought I could see some images in the distance. I sang loudly to keep my courage and to let my presence be known. After I had had enough I left, promising to return in the morning.
As I made my way back to the platform I heard familiar sounds that unnerved me slightly—the buzzing of mossies. I soon realized I was caught in a catch-22. To keep away the mosquitoes I needed to burrito up in my tarp. But when I did, I felt like I was in a sauna. The nights there do not cool off and the mosquitoes do not stop coming.
So I compromised with the lower half of my body wrapped in the tarp and the top half covered in a sarong. The mosquitoes were not particularly fast or clever but their sheer numbers were daunting. I am sure I killed hundreds of them but they sucked right through my sarong. By first light I had been bit a couple hundred times. I tried to visualize them as reincarnated acupuncturists taking out my bad blood. I reflected on Doug Elliott’s telling of a Cherokee story of how the mosquito needed to suck blood after saving humanity. But honestly that morning I felt I had been molested.
Despite that it was a beautiful morning. I did some yoga and took some more pictures then got into the sacred waters. I could have been there all day for they largely restored me. But my time was short so I packed up, thanked the land, and headed off to the Kakadu National Park.
A couple of hours later my first stop in the park was the cultural center designed by the local people. I learned some history about the cultures here. On the entrance they wrote: "We tell you stories that have been told to us by our old people. They go on and on. The passing down of stories is our Bininj [local people] book. People from different clans have got different stories of their country. You can learn some of our stories as you walk through this display." Then I drove on to the ranger information center. They had a good little library which I did some research in and the ranger there kindly supplied me with a plant list of over 1500 species in the park. I have looked over it with delight several times now. She also told me that all the campgrounds in the area were closed due to flooding and that my best bet was to look for lodging in the outpost of Jabiru.
There was still some daylight left so I ventured into the amazing petroglyphs at the world heritage site. These drawings were on the walls of a majestic rock outcropping. I wandered among them until darkness came taking in their messages and meanings for us modern peoples. This was an area the aborigines came during the wet season for shelter and because of the abundance of food. I nibbled on a native turmeric relative there and was moved by the vibes of the place. The oldest remains there dated back 20,000 years, but amongst the 5000 sites in the park there is evidence of human presence for 50,000 years. Current thinking suggests that aboriginal people island-hopped to Australia 60,000 years ago when the ocean level was hundreds of feet lower. I was very impressed with the place.
With the dark I drove to the outpost town. I was not excited about the prospects of this place, knowing what I did. Namely, that as a great illustration of our modern dilemma—here in the middle of the world heritage site is a Uranium mine. This outpost was built to supply the workers.
I arrived about 8:00 and went to the two lodging options. Both were unacceptable to me culturally and economically. The cheapest options were campsites for over 25 dollars and anything else was over a hundred dollars. So I filled the car up with petrol and headed back out into the bush to see what nature was going to teach me that night. The moon glowed overhead and after a couple of deadends I decided to venture into one of the closed campgrounds. Two owls appeared before me on the road in and then a big gray snake slithered off to the left. Several signs warned about crocodiles. With those foreboding omens I knew I was in for a night. I parked the car in the deserted campground and looked around with my flashlight. Just ahead I heard a loud reptilian splash in a flooded area. "Whoa!" I said outloud. Throughout the night I could hear the croaking of the croc tribe not far off. "Hmm," I thought, "What to do about all this?" I decided to sleep in the car. Some mosquitoes made their way in also. Being in the car was not only hot but also stuffy. I tried to open a window and rig a tarp so it would let in fresh air and not mossies. This did not work and after an hour I decided to risk crocodiles and try sleeping wrapped in a tarp on a concrete picnic table. At least I could make a breathing hole and get fresh air. This also failed with my being drenched in sweat. Eventually I was broken down and humbled. I made my way back to the car and turned on the air conditioner for 10 minutes dehumidifying and cooling the car. Then I went off to sleep like a baby until three in the morning when I needed to do it again. That got me through the night. Ah, those humble lessons of being ill-prepared!
I was up again at first light, did some yoga up on the picnic table, then spent the next several hours on a couple of walks up to overlooks. (All the lower walks were flooded.) The first walk was spectacular with a nice view of the hill of cave drawings. There were so many amazing plants there—deep red flowering Grewellias, tasty fruiting passion vines, Eucalyptus growing our of cracks in the rock, I heard a little waterfall call to me. When I found it, there was this little dipping pool built for one.
The second walk took me high up onto this platform where I gained a wider perspective. To the east the Arnhem escarpment; south was the headwaters of the Alligator River, one of the biggest rivers in Au; to the west were the bushlands; and to the north were the floodplains leading to the coast. All around me was wooded, a diverse wonderland.
I started making my way back towards Darwin. On the way I visited the Litchfield National Park. I saw an amazing waterfall roaring down over a cave full of rare bats. I swam in an energized spring bursting forth and I stood in wonder before twenty foot termite mounds at sunset. I was not up for another night out in the wild, so I drove back to the hostel and slept very well that night.
The next day was my last in Darwin so I walked about the town taking it in, doing errands, and saying goodbye to the friends I had made. Late that night I caught a redeye to Sydney.
In Sydney I had a couple of relaxing days with friends and visited the Botanical Gardens. In the gardens I was blown out by the energy of a glass pyramid there. I learned the sordid history of European arrival as their first settlement occurred there in the gardens with seven ships of over 1000 people—700 of them convicts from twelve countries. Two-thirds of the local native people were dead within a year. It is a sad story not unlike the US history occurring around the same time.
Then I took an epic twenty-one hour flight to London (with a one hour refueling in Singapore) and had a couple of sunny, warm days there visiting friends and a spectacular day at Kew Gardens exploring some of the 300 acres I have not been to, as well as, time in my favorite haunts there.
And now I write this to you on a ten hour flight back to Turtle Island. This journey downunder provided lots of lessons learned, plant knowledge gained and an initial sense of the lands and cultures. I feel I will go back in about three years if the planes are still flying. Care to join me?