Jac’s Journey

I can’t quite comprehend the size of Australia. Melbourne to Perth is the same distance as London to Moscow. Cairns is almost half way back to Singapore.

And so, I returned to the tropics. Yes, it’s still winter, but the flip flops are out again.

Unable to dive until 24 hours after my flight, I explored Port Douglas, a lovely little town on a peninsula with Four Mile Beach on one side and the Marina on the other. It’s a pretty town, with cafes, restaurants, pubs with live music at night and friendly people. Lots of boats in the Marina give it a yachty, affluent feel and there’s a lot to see and do around the area. It’s got something to suit every budget, from the Sheraton Mirage (where the rich and famous stay) to the Youth Hostel (where I am).

I sought opinions around town for the best outfit to go with and booked to go out diving next day.

That night I could hardly sleep with excitement; I was going diving on the Great Barrier Reef! This was going to blow away all my previous diving around Boracay and Ko Tao; colourful corals, amazing marine life; I couldn’t wait.

Arriving on board the Calypso next morning, I was initially impressed by the professionalism; a lovely boat, strict health and safety rules, good equipment.

The ride was a bit bumpy and I alternated reading my book, sipping water and gazing at the horizon to dispel any queasiness. After an hour or so, the dive briefing began and I met my dive buddy, Fraser.

The dive brief was thorough on the safety side of things, but completely missed all the good stuff. As she wrapped up the briefing, I had to ask for a description of the dive site we were going to and which marine life and coral we should look out for.

“Oh yes, of course, I forgot. Haha.”

I was a little concerned. A divemaster that ‘forgets’ to tell you about the dive site or the fish you’re going to see. Hmmmm.

I was underwhelmed by the first dive, but pushed it to the back of my mind. I was on the Great Barrier Reef for goodness sake; it had to be amazing. Was it me? I tried really hard to ‘manage myself’ on the second dive.

As a little aside, that’s something I’ve discovered about diving. You really need to manage your thoughts and emotions while you’re underwater. Each dive is usually less than an hour and if you’re tense, grumpy or in any way preoccupied it has a significant impact on your dive. You use your air faster, so spend less time on the bottom and don’t notice what’s going on around you so you easily miss things. If you manage yourself well, you feel relaxed and ‘in the moment’, you notice the detail of the amazing underwater world and your dive is so much more fascinating and rewarding. The difference is stark.

During the second dive I managed myself perfectly. And the dive was still…nice.

The third dive was a Drift Dive, where we were dropped off some distance from the boat and floated back underwater with the current. We saw a White Tip Reef Shark, which was great, but overall, the dive was…nice.

On all the sites, the coral was lovely, but was spaced out across a sandy bottom with several areas damaged, bleached or dead. The dive sites were very shallow and there were hardly any fish. In truth, several of the dive sites around Ko Tao were better, and Ko Tao has hardly any soft coral – the colourful stuff – it has mainly hard coral, which is lovely but far less colourful.

What was going on?

Why was I diving on the Great Barrier Reef and not peeing my pants with the amazing-ness of it all?

Simple. I’d picked the wrong type of trip.

Most of the people on the boat were snorkellers, or doing a Discover Scuba introductory dive. Only three of us had ever been diving before.

This meant that the dive sites were chosen for what you can see from the surface and in the shallows, rather than what you can see once you’re down there. On top of the mediocre dive sites, the boat was managed like a military operation where the main aim was making money. I could see no passion for the reef, for the marine life, for the underwater world. It felt sterile. I was also annoyed by the divemaster touching coral, fish and picking up marine life. We should touch nothing down there; we’re visitors in their environment and can bring all sorts of ‘above water’ pollutants that disrupt a delicate balance; one touch to a piece of coral kills it.

Luckily, my dive buddy was a great guy and we had a really nice time chatting between dives and diving together. If it hadn’t been for him, my disappointment would have been so much greater.

That evening, a few people in the hostel asked how my diving had been. As I began to articulate my disappointment (how, exactly, do you say, ‘I went diving on the Great Barrier Reef today and was disappointed?’), and listened to some of their replies, I gathered information and settled in for a long session online and visiting tour offices next day.

After hours of research (and bank account search) I booked myself on a five day liveaboard dive cruise heading up to the Northern Great Barrier Reef. It’s a lot more money than I was hoping to spend, but I’m not going to be back here anytime soon…

On Friday, I head up to Cod Hole, Osprey Reef and return to Cairns via the Ribbon Reefs. These are amongst the best dive sites in Australia. The boat I’m going on is for divers and that means there’ll be no tension between the best sites for one group and the best for another, so no ‘nice’ compromises. It’s a small group of people so should be loads of fun.

This trip is going to be the Great Barrier Reef I’d imagined. This will be pee my pants exciting.

Pass the Tena Lady.

Arriving into Melbourne was a completely different experience to arriving at Sydney. The Skybus whisked me into town in 20 minutes and then a free shuttle dropped me at my door.

My petite North Melbourne eco-hostel warmed my heart as soon as I arrived. A dreamy, mellow smile spread across my face as I glanced around, taking in the comfy common area and, joy-of-joys, a dorm to myself. I chatted to the guy on reception as I checked in, discovering that he’d worked in Dunkeld for a while. We traded reminisces as I strolled down memory lane to my 19-year-old working summer in a Pitlochry hotel and many orienteering trips to nearby Faskally as a youngster.

As I dumped my bag in the dorm room (which would become my own private room for the next six nights) I sent a text to Erin and we made arrangements to meet up next day.

Melbourne – your welcome is so much better than Sydney’s!

The city centre is an ordered grid system that I expected to navigate with ease. Actually, between the main artery streets, there’s a warren of winding lanes, beautiful Victorian arcades and alleyways that spun me round and left me staring at my map, scratching my head until I checked my compass and turned the map the right way up.

Cafe culture is the name of the game here. There are so many innovative, character-filled, locally-owned cafes. It’s lovely to have ‘going for a coffee’ as part of the tourist trail, rather than something you do when taking a break from being a tourist. Spending time in these lovely cafes, I can understand why so many of the Melbourne population are creative types.

I paid a visit to Phar Lap in Melbourne Museum. If you’ve not met Phar Lap, you must rent the movie. He was a champion racehorse during the Great Depression; born in New Zealand, trained in Melbourne and swept the boards for several years, becoming an Australian National Hero at a time when there was not much else to celebrate. My sis had introduced me to Phar Lap many years ago, and I was not leaving Melbourne without meeting him. I later discovered that although his stuffed hide is in Melbourne, his skeleton is in New Zealand and his heart is in Canberra.

So I said hello to his skin, and stood watching his last race on black and white, grainy, looping film, as he galloped from the back of the pack to win the race, just before he was poisoned and killed by some nasty so-and-so who was going broke on Phar Lap’s success.

In the next room of the museum, there was a truly outstanding exhibition on the human mind. It had exhibits on how the brains works, on thoughts and emotions, how we take in and understand information, with one of those trick perspective rooms you can walk through, how dreams work, what happens when it all goes wrong in different mental illnesses, their treatments, where creativity comes from and how drugs influence the brain.

One thing I didn’t expect on this trip was to be so impressed by a museum in a city that’s less than 200 years old.

Melbourne also presented me with the long-awaited opportunity to shop for something I really needed.

Before I tell you what I needed, a little background…

In Asia, women are really small. Really small. Being from strong, healthy Scottish/Irish stock, raised on meat-and-two-veg-with-Irn-Bru, I’ve got a different, erm, frame, than your average Asian woman.

This makes trying to get new underwear in Asia a challenge.

In fact, I had developed a bit of a complex as so many shop assistants in Asia had sniggered and said ‘Oh no, we don’t have anything that big.’

Thanks love. May your next poo be a hedgehog.

In Melbourne, I was spoiled for choice, and surrounded by women, bigger than me, who were also shopping for underwear.

Gleefully, I struggled to choose between several that fitted me. Although, my purse wasn’t so gleeful at the till…

A trip along the Great Ocean Road was obligatory. Melbourne winter is as unpredictable as Scottish summer, so I packed for all weathers. Or so I thought…

We basked in sunshine at Bells Beach, watching the surfers catch waves at one of the most famous surfing beaches in the world; we shivered at Apollo Bay, my new hat making its first outing, and tucked into chips around a picnic table; we got wet trekking through the rainforest; we were blown away – literally – watching the sun go down at the Twelve Apostles and London Bridge. All this, while chatting to a girl from Glasgow who went to school in Hamilton. What’re the chances?

A final night out with Erin and Shane capped it all off. Talking memories of Glasgow, my infamous ‘inside BBQ’, drinking local beer, it was fantastic to catch up and discover more fabulous Melbourne bars and restaurants.

I waved a sad farewell to Melbourne from the ‘plane window and then turned my mind to the business of getting excited about diving on the Great Barrier Reef…

Melbourne

Great Ocean Road

Really, with me, Sydney was on a hiding to nothing.

As my first stop after Asia, a part of the world I didn’t want to leave, it was going to be my place of rebellion against being back in the ‘West’ and where I would most pine for all things Asian.

But, to be fair, Sydney didn’t make that much of an effort at first…

I was greeted by wind and rain and cold. Finding a quiet corner of the airport, I consigned my faithful flip flops to my backpack and freed socks, shoes and jacket from its dark, unused corner. Someone walked past and said loudly, in a Sydney accent, to their friend who had just commented on the weather,

“Well, it is June.”

No, no, no, no. Stamps foot. June is Summer. Summer, middle of the year, rotten telly, school holidays, long days, getting your washing out, my birthday. Summer.

My head spun. Which continent was I on? Which season was it? What time is it? Huh?

As if to prolong my stay in Asia to the last possible moment, I had done nothing to prepare for arriving into Sydney. A brief, fleeting thought in Singapore had been disregarded;

“It’s all in English anyway, I’ll sort it out when I get there.”

And in my infinite wisdom, I’d also decided to travel Australia without a guidebook to avoid the ‘Lonely Planet well-trodden-path’ and associated teenyboppers.

So, there I was; Sydney airport, no guidebook, no map, no idea where to stay, in Summer/Winter denial, Asia withdrawl and jet-lagged.

Sydney could at least have shone the sun on me.

As often happens with such nonexistent planning, I ended up in an excellent yet awful hostel. (Got off at Central Station, walked around, this place looks ok; I’ll take a dorm bed here, how much???) Granted, the place was very clean, which was why I stayed 3 nights, but counter to my stated aim of avoiding the teenyboppers, I’d inadvertently ended up at their head office.

So, as you can see, Sydney and I were off to a great start!

As my funk deepened, I administered a shower and a slap and headed out to Sydney Aquarium. Not only would I be out of the wind and cold and rain, but I could remind myself of all the wonderful fishies I’m going to be swimming with when I get up to the Great Barrier Reef. I spent at least half an hour in the shark tank, meandering through perspex tunnels as these immense creatures of the deep moved gracefully over my head. Later, I plonked myself down cross legged in front of the coral-reef-in-a-tank and played at recognising all the fish I’d swam with on Ko Tao and would swim with, in a couple of weeks’ time, on the Great Barrier Reef. It worked. I left the Aquarium with a huge smile on my face!

Looking at Sydney with more appreciative eyes, I was struck by how much the city centre reminded me of Glasgow, and not just the weather: beautiful Victorian buildings you only notice if you make a point of looking up, modern redeveloped waterfront on Darling Harbour, lots of parks and open spaces, Pitt St a close relation of Buchanan St and the familiar grid system of the city centre with so many familiar street names.

I expected the ‘looks like’ game to stop when I got to the stunning Opera House and Harbour Bridge. But I just couldn’t help myself. Armadillo, Glasgow. Tyne Bridge, Newcastle. Sticks tongue out. Take that, cold, wet, rainy, Sydney.

Sometimes relationships just aren’t meant to be. Sydney is a wonderful city. Darlinghurst and Paddington are interesting and funky districts (if only I’d stayed in one of ‘em!), Bondi is a stunning city beach with impressive breakers and the Opera House is of course unique and wonderful with its famous sails dominating the harbour (the Glasgow Armadillo being a completely different species!). The view of the Harbour Bridge from the ferry with the Opera House tucked beneath is particularly stunning. The Strand is a stunning Victorian shopping precinct and the State Theatre, where I caught a film in the Sydney Film Festival, is historic and beautiful.

I can see the potential joys of Sydney, but this time, for us, it hasn’t worked out; like a potential hot date with no chemistry, no spark, no exchanging phone numbers.

I went in search of his handsome brother, Melbourne…

Sydney

(PS – Photos now loaded for Ko Tao and Singapore)

It’s unlike anywhere I’ve been for the last 9 months.

Some people love it. Some people wrinkle their nose and call it ‘Asia-lite’. I tried to have an open mind. I knew I would be unimpressed by the Asian-ness of Singapore, having just spent 9 months wandering to several corners of the continent, but just as Bangkok is not trying to be authentic Thailand, neither is Singapore trying to be authentic Asia.

I was, however, unprepared for the order, tidyness and regulation of Singapore. Coming through the airport, I remembered with a jolt the packet of doublemint chewing gum in my bag, and buried it underneath my smokes and iPod going through security. Where it stayed the whole time I’ve been here. It’s incredible how quickly you adjust to being rule-bound. Fines-for-everything Singapore; spitting, chewing gum, dropping litter, smoking in the wrong place, not flushing the toilet, urinating in a public place, eating or drinking on the MRT subway system, jaywalking. I suddenly found the famous Singapore ‘policeman-within’ watching me over my shoulder.

Actually, it’s not really as bad as all that. I saw people hock and spit in the street without getting fined, most of the toilets flush themselves and is it really so bad not to be able to drop litter without penalities? Singapore has loads going for it. The most joyous discovery being no mosquitoes!

I’d been told that Singapore was looking to import thousands of professional, skilled workers over the next decade. It added an interesting dimension as I toured the city, thinking ‘could I ever live here?’ The answer has to be no. It’s too regimented for me. I need a little more unpredictability than Singapore could offer, methinks.

However, when it comes to food and shopping, this place is hard to beat. Amazing Indian food in Little India, superb Chinese food in Chinatown, Arab and Mediterranean food in the Arab Quarter, where I was staying, and all of the above in the delightful, messy, cheap, very Asian, Hawker Centres. And while I was here, it was the ‘Great Singapore Sale’, which runs for the entire month of June, and many stores offer additional discounts. Nice one.

My biggest adventure in Singapore was in a teahouse in Chinatown. I was lapping up my cup of DragonWell Green Tea, imagining myself back in Hangzhou, when all of a sudden I got into an argument with some boiling water. The water got a punch in before I decked him, so I spent the next two hours with ice on my face and three hours in Singapore General – not part of the plan! It’s all ok though, no permanent scarring! And another very good Asian healthcare experience!

The great melting pot of Asia, with all its very different cultures creates an interesting place to visit, and is a thought-provoking example of where economic success has been achieved without democracy in the truest sense (although there is voting on the westminster system, there is no opposition to speak of, the same government has been in power since Singapore became independent and speaking out against the government is prohibited).

An enjoyable few days adjusting my senses from ‘east’ to ‘west’, Singapore has been the perfect place to help me do just that.

Singapore

Ko Tao was all about diving, beach bumming and getting my head around the fact that this is pretty much my last stop in Asia.

Ten days of the long goodbye. What better way to spend it than underwater?

On Ko Tao, I went diving 15 times. My confidence has grown so much, and with it, my enjoyment of diving. I’ve learned to relax and not think so much about what I’m doing. More is coming naturally, to the extent that my divemaster had to come up with creative ways to get my attention underwater – I was too busy watching the fish! It just keeps getting better; the experience of thousands of fish finning gracefully past, seeing something new for the first time, seeing something huge and impressive, seeing something rare, something tiny and beautiful. It’s a sensory delight. The feeling of moving through the water easily, hanging effortlessly in mid-water watching schoals of fish above and below, breathing underwater. Although carrying heavy diving equipment, you’re essentially weightless and float through the underwater world as easily as the teeming fish around you.

I won’t bore you by reeling off all the fish I saw, or all the things I’ve learned about the underwater world. Before I started diving, I couldn’t recognise a fish unless it was on my plate, but as I grew to love the sensations of being underwater, in their world, I started learning about different fish and their characteristics, which has made the whole experience more interesting.

There are some real personalities under the water. One of my favourites is the clown fish – of Finding Nemo fame. He lives in an anemone, which in itself is very beautiful, and whenever a scuba diver swims near, this tiny, fiesty fish swims out and starts shouting in fishy language. In my head they shout at me in a Glaswegian accent and I always imagine the old-fashioned Glasgow Bus Conductresses saying “C’mon you, Get aff” as they tell me to beat it the hell away from their anemone.

But one of my most exciting encounters was while snorkelling rather than diving…

Most of the year, you’re guaranteed to see sharks when diving on Ko Tao. While I was there, they were all away mating in deeper waters, so not a single shark to be found at any of the dive sites.

Not to be put off so easily, I headed to Shark Bay where you can go snorkelling off the beach and see baby sharks in their ‘nursery’! With hired mask and fins, I set off into the water, catching my leg on some rock while I was putting my fins on. A short time later, my leg started to sting. A brief inspection showed a flow of blood seeping out of my leg. So there I was, hunting for sharks, with blood pouring out of my leg!

Vivid shark-movie scenes flashed through my head and on top of the apprehensiveness I was feeling anyway, I got my backside out of the water and onto on the beach.

About a week later, I gave it another go, this time in the bay around the corner from where I was staying at Tanote. I had friends in the next bay, and snorkelled round to see them. I coincided my snorkel trip with underwater feeding time in the late afternoon and got to see so many beautiful fish hunting and chasing each other. On the way back to my own bay, I was moving slowly, gazing down through 5 metres of crystal clear water, when I saw it.

‘Oh, there’s a shark.’

In much the same way as you might say ‘Oh, there’s my neighbour’, while shopping in Marks and Spencer.

It was a Black Tip Reef Shark, over a metre long, and I stopped to watch it gracefully move through the water, framed by the field of staghorn coral below.

I’d been unsure how I would react when I saw a shark. The logical facts are that there’s practically no risk. Apparently, last year, 8 people were killed in shark attacks, 12 people were killed by falling coconuts and 25 people were killed by elephants.

But Stephen Spielberg didn’t make a film about coconuts!

Very proud of myself, I continued to make my way home. ‘I’ve swam with sharks and I wasn’t even scared!’ Puff of breath on the back of the hand, she polishes her lapel. Go me!

Ha. About 20 minutes later, nearly home, in murkier water, I looked to my left and saw Mr Shark again. Swimming just below the surface about 6 or 7 metres to my left. There was something much more sinister seeing him in murky water at the same level as me: the shadow of that upright fin, the shark-shape of his body, that Jaw. I had been calm seeing him from above, but on seeing him to my side, my fins started going like pistons to get me round that rock and safely home. I take it all back!

Ko Tao was the perfect place to say farewell and thanks for the good times, Asia. I loved going diving every day, loved learning about the underwater world. By the time I left, I was ready to face flying ‘down under’ and excited about doing more diving in Australia.

Singapore, then Sydney, here I come!

Koh Tao