The International Writers Magazine - Our Tenth Year: Travel

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Reflections of a Backpacker: Melbourne + Hoey Moey and the Rapids + The New South Wales Chainsaw Massacre • Dann Cann The overnight Greyhound bus arrived in the early hours at Melbourne, capital of the State of Victoria. Ben and I booked in at the grand looking 'Toad Hall Hotel.' The staff seemed a little cold and pretentious but we were too tired to care, maybe they just weren't morning people!

We had managed some sleep on the bus, but sleeping as the city was starting to wake up was not a realistic option, so we soon found ourselves on the street outside which was bustling and busy like they should be, after the ghost town of Canberra this was a welcome return to normality. Melbourne struck me as a very European city with its parks, gardens, green trams and architecture. It was a very 'arty' city and that was where we headed first, the Melbourne Art Museum.

We both found it impressive and it boasted all sorts of exhibits from around the World. I enjoyed the Oriental exhibit the most. It was good to be back in cosmopolitan, cultural surroundings. After the museum it was a personal crusade for Ben, being a huge fan of cricket he wanted to find the Mecca of Australian cricket, the MCG (Melbourne Cricket Ground). After a lot of walking and searching, stumbling onto other sights and points of interest, we eventually found it. A groundskeeper very kindly listened to our pleas and allowed us both inside. It was pretty awe-inspiring as I looked up at row upon row of seats rising to the heavens. It was like a Roman Arena but without Christians being fed to the lions! You could feel the history seeping out of the place and we stood there in silence for a long time imagining what it must be like to be there for a test series.

In the evening we had a 'Have all you can eat' meal downtown, for the first time we did not feel the usual guilt and self-loathing that follows one of these meals, we were both starving and had walked for miles all day. When we returned back to our dorm at 'Toad Hall' we were exhausted but pleased that we had managed to pack so much into one day. The other lads in the dorm were a good bunch: Ryan from Canada was witty and patriotic (like most Canadian's we encountered he had his country's flag stitched into his backpack ­ Ryan explained that he was fed up with being mistaken for an American!) Barry from London was also quick-witted with a very dry sense of humour. He kept us entertained with his many travel stories. This was one thing I really appreciated and enjoyed during my travels, the shared camaraderie and bond between all of us. Admittedly it could get you down sometimes when you were stopped wherever you went with the two standard lines of enquiry: 'Where have you been?' And 'Where are you going?' But that aside it was an excellent way to converse with people from all over the world and to try to understand their culture without the need to pick up a book, go on the net or watch television.

The next day we visited the Old Melbourne Gaol the final resting place for the (in)famous 19th century Bushranger, Ned Kelly. He is quite a divisive figure: A legend to some and a villain to others. I was looking forward to getting a greater insight into this charismatic historical figure. The gaol was a very eerie and atmospheric place; I wasn't expecting 'The Ritz' but it was chilly and as quiet as a church inside, although it was far from a holy place! I was impressed with all of the exhibits especially Mr Kelly's body armour and mask that proved so valuable to him in shoot outs until a bright enterprising constable decided to aim at Kelly's unprotected legs! Kelly has been credited with the immortal line 'Such is life' just before he was hanged. Although fascinated by all the paraphernalia and the sense of history I was relieved to be out in the fresh air again. It was not a place you could linger in for long; I did not want to take up residency there anyway. Trying to imagine what it must have been like for Victorian prisoners brought an involuntary shudder down my spine.

After a brief walk we bumped into Matt, the West Virginian we had met in Canberra. After a little period of deliberation the three of us thought it would be an excellent idea to visit the United Carlton Brewery. All the doom and gloom had made us thirsty. Once at the brewery we saw all the different methods for making beer and it even had an interactive section on a touch screen computer to test your knowledge of brewing. That evening was spent at the 'Art House' where on two separate stages patrons could watch live musicians and poets. Needless to say we were all in our element; it felt like a student night again. When the performances ended Matt took us both up on the roof (he was staying above the pub) and we all enjoyed the excellent evening view of the city lights below us. It had been yet another enjoyable day full of rewarding surprises.

The following morning we left the charm of the city with its trams, street chess and European style buildings for a day trip along the Great Ocean Road. Our driver, Dave was quite a raconteur; he enjoyed art and photography as well as being a tour guide. We were surprised to bump into Adam from our time at Byron Bay and Coff's Harbour. He was on the same tour as us. We thought he was going to get work at Coff's Harbour but he just sheepishly shrugged his shoulders and said 'Nah.' It was good to catch up with him again. The day trip took us to Bell's Beach where parts of the Hollywood film 'Point Break' was filmed.

This was followed by the Otway Ranges, a rainforest walk through giant trees and ferns. Gibson's Beach was next where we saw the Twelve Apostles, a collection of limestone stacks next to the coast. They were mighty impressive, some of the rocks were more than seventy metres high. After the Apostles we saw Lochard Gorge, the scene of an 1878 shipwreck.

Finally Dave took us all to the collapsed London Bridge, a natural phenomenon that some years earlier had collapsed in the middle, leaving two tourists stranded before eventually being rescued by helicopter. They were very lucky really, I would not have wanted to be stuck out there, but I suppose they were lucky to be alive at all.

It had been a great day, quite a whistle stop tour but with some amazing sights and stories and in good company. Our final day in Melbourne was spent lazing around the city. We visited the War Memorial which was an imposing grey building near the Botanic Gardens. The most impressive feature was a ray of light that passed through the building, illuminating everything on an hourly basis. The 'Symbolic Light' was an inspired idea and a good way to remember the fallen. After more walking we sat outside of a cafe enjoying the coffee and 'people watching' we bumped into James from Canberra again. Meeting the same people several times was becoming a habit; I suppose it was quite possible as we were all travelling in the same direction. It was still a surprise to meet the same people in large cities however. We left Melbourne at 10.30pm. It had been good to us. It was a city that was packed with art and culture and like London if you got tired of it you were tired of life.

Hoey Moey

After a pleasant air-conditioned coach ride to Coff's Harbour we arrived at the originally named 'Hoey Moey's Backpackers' in the afternoon. I never did find out who Moey was or why he was considered to be 'Hoey.' Not that I was concerning myself with these kinds of questions.

Ben, Adam and I were just relieved to have a room with a television and an en suite bathroom, luxury compared to the crowded dorm we had left behind. There was a barbecue in the evening which we happily attended. We declined all offers of alcoholic refreshment as we collectively felt it was time to give our livers a deserved rest! Besides, the following morning we had booked a White Water Rafting trip down the mighty Nymboida River and hangovers and rapids don't mix!

So that following morning we emerged from the comfort of our room bright eyed and bushy tailed and eager to test ourselves on the river. The coach picked us up and we introduced ourselves to the others who would be joining us for the day. In all there were about twenty of us in various degrees of animation, nervousness or sheer terror.
The trip to the starting point seemed to whiz by and soon we were all kitted out in helmets and life jackets getting briefed by the one of the organizers, Jim. He explained that we should respect the river and not to expect to stay in the raft for the whole journey downstream! If we fell out he cheerfully explained that 'There's not much point in trying to swim against the current as you'll get bashed against the rocks.' A few of us must have exchanged nervous glances as Jim then reassured us that the best thing to do was to lie flat on your back with your feet in front of you ready to kick out against any rocks. A few more safety pointers were given and he assured us that the team would do all they could to ensure our safety. Basically it was a team effort and as long as we all had each other backs and proceeded sensibly there should not be any problems.

We split up into three teams. In my team were Jim (a good start!), Adam, Ben, Anthony and Peter (both from Adelaide). Once in the river with a paddle in each of our hands we began to settle down as Jim generally coached us. He told us when we should 'Back paddle!' to slow us down and when to 'Paddle!' to get us through the rapids quickly. I felt as long as we listened to Jim things should go smoothly. When we hit our first rapids it was clear that all you could do was to hold on for dear life once you were on top of it. You were at the mercy of the rivers current. It was a fantastic feeling and a massive adrenalin rush as we speedily rolled and bobbed, water crashing over us from all sides and angles!
As the day progressed and we became better crew members I began to appreciate our surroundings more. It really was the 'Great Outdoors' here. The scenery was wild and unspoilt. Our voices were the only ones I could hear. Occasionally we would scan the woods and rocks either side of us for shifty rednecks stalking us city slickers a la 'Deliverance' but fortunately there were none and not one of us had to 'squeal like a pig!'

The whole day was spent paddling easily downstream, in a carefree timeless manner, punctuated by hitting the rapids at speed, dodging and bouncing off rocks whooping like madmen (perhaps we scared off any bloodthirsty, homicidal rednecks?)

As well as the white water rafting we went on a jump rope doing our best Johnny Weissmuller impersonations much to the dismay and disapproval of the female members of the group. A lot of us men were regressing to our childhoods that day and generally acting like big kids...it was great! We did rock jumps into the river, feeling a little like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. The highest one was about ten metres high and not for the faint hearted! I did not forget it as I miss-timed my jump and had a fairly painful landing. Not that I cared as it was simply an excellent, thrilling, life affirming day.

What goes up, so the saying goes, must come down and the rest of our stay at Coff's Harbour although pleasant could never hope to top or even match the white water rafting. Still, over the next couple of days we hired bicycles and cycled around some impressive coastal scenery, seeing Coff's Harbour from the best perspective. We also went surfing and swimming and generally lazing about on the beach behind 'Hoey Moey's.'

Our last evening at Coff's Harbour Ben and I sat on the beach drinking (our abstinence did not last long!) and talking about the trip so far, what we hoped for in the future and our friends and family back home. It was nice to reflect and to look forward to what was ahead. As we talked we could hear the sound of the waves and nothing else. The sun began to set and we had to agree that travelling around the world was the best decision we had made in our lives so far.

The New South Wales Chainsaw Massacre

We hefted our rucksacks onto the Greyhound bus greatly relieved to get out of the thirty four degree heat and into an air-conditioned space. Ben and I had parted company with Adam; he did not seem as keen to visit Port Macquarie as we did. The bus journey turned out to be pleasant and uneventful, it was good to just listen to music and switch off my brain for a while. We eventually arrived at Port Macquarie in the evening.

At each bus station in Australia so far we had always been met with lots of people with placards and minibuses proclaiming their hostel/backpackers were the best in town. In this case we noted a lack of rivalry and also we were the only two people to jump off at Port Macquarie. From out of the shadows stepped a rough, bearded, unkempt giant with bulging eyeballs and a placard. He seemed friendly enough, but our first impressions were bordering from uncertain to hysteria. Was he about to take us home to Ma, Pa and Leatherface where we would be chopped up and served for Sunday Family Roast?

With these wild thoughts in our collective heads Ben and I boarded the four wheel drive a trifle uncertainly and were quickly whisked away. A comfortable bed or an axe in the back of the head awaited us! Once we had crossed on the ferry and driven down a few country lanes, our silent journey came to a close when we arrived at a secluded (gulp) but beautifully maintained farmhouse. We took in our new surroundings which included a large lake, geese and peacocks. The adjacent field had some very impressive and well looked after horses in it. Even if this guy was a serial killer, his family had done well for themselves and obviously took a lot of pride in their home and work.

Once inside the farmhouse we still felt a little ill at ease as we had still not seen any other guests. Our guide book listed it as a five star hostel, but where was everyone? It was becoming increasingly like a bizarre Aussie version of 'The League of Gentlemen' with Port Macquarie taking the place of Royston Vasey. We checked in nonetheless, it was a bit late now to change our minds! We explained to our bug-eyed and unhinged looking host that we were pretty tired from the trip so he took us up to our room making polite small talk on the way. As soon as the door closed behind us Ben and I shared looks that seemed to say 'What was that all about?'

The room was excellent, in fact the whole farmhouse was immaculate with low wooden beams, skylights, velux windows offering views of the stars, no noise of traffic or a city outside. In fact, thinking about it, that was probably what was so disconcerting to us. We had become so accustomed to crowds of people, noise and the hustle and bustle of a city, that all of this seemed a little creepy, rather than a nice change of pace and atmosphere. Perhaps our bug eyed friend downstairs had just had a long day? Anyway, as soon as my head hit the pillow I fell into a deep sleep, so long as I woke up the next morning I was quite happy!

Well, I did wake up alive the next morning, how would I be writing this if I didn't? After our ablutions Ben and I had breakfast where we learnt there were other guests at the hostel after all (phew!), a Canadian couple and Neil from England. Every creature comfort was catered to and it was serene out in the country, a welcome and pleasant change to all of the noise and excess of the last few weeks. Neil kindly dropped us into town (he was travelling around Australia in a van). He reassured us that everything was on the level at the hostel and laughed at our description of the man who had picked us up, agreeing that he did look a little intimidating. 'He's harmless though.' Neil said grinning.

Port Macquarie itself was nothing out of the ordinary, just a quiet, pleasant town with a few shops and a shopping mall. It was surrounded by the Hastings River and had a relaxed air about it. It was another hot and humid day and our walk back to the hostel was a long one (it felt it in the heat anyway). After a rest and some lunch we went for a walk in the bush and had a swim in a lake. It was such a sharp contrast to what we had known before but it was enjoyable nonetheless. There weren't that many diversions to keep you entertained in town, but for two travellers looking to detox and refresh it was ideal. The hostel felt more like a health spa than a typical backpacker's.

The following day we went on a river cruise. One of the highlights was the dolphins that playfully swam and jumped alongside the boat. We spoke to a couple who had emigrated from Lithuania years ago and now resided in Sydney. They gave us plenty of tips and ideas of things to see and do which was helpful. It was nice (and incredibly rare) to see an elderly couple who were still clearly in love with each other. At the dayıs end Ben and I decided that any more taking it easy would mean ending up horizontal so we decided to leave the next day.

After several rewarding days we had our first bad one. Our bus to Newcastle was delayed by two hours and we were left twiddling our thumbs sat on our backpacks at the bus station as it poured down with rain. When we did eventually arrive at Newcastle at 11pm we were very tired and fed up. We did not notice (or care) what the hostel was like, we just wanted to put the day behind us fast. That's the one thing you have to remember with travelling for a long time, you get your bad days as well as good!

The next day we felt refreshed and the weather had cleared up, so we went into town. Despite being an industrial town (it is the largest coal exporting harbour in the World) Newcastle has its redeeming features, with Nobby's beach (white sand and clear blue sea), a quay and the Lighthouse at Nobby's Point. Sport is popular here and Ben and I found it to be a young, vibrant place with plenty going for it. Although we only spent a day there it was enjoyable. We were really looking forward to seeing Sydney and that was where we were headed next.

www.danielcann.com
© Dan Cann
dancann74@yahoo.co.uk

P.O.W.
Daniel Cann
We arrived late, tired and dishevelled at the Prince of Wales Backpackers in Bundaberg. Enquiries like ‘So how is it here?’ were met with muted derision and raised eyebrows

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