I've been unable to keep the blog going, but yes, I am still traveling. Since leaving you suspended in Walpole I've moved on through Albany, Perth and Melbourne to Tasmania. Here I've hiked quite a bit to while away Christmas, and I just witnessed New Year's Eve in Hobart, which by the way translates to "female moustache" in Norwegian. I'm not entirely sure it's a fair description of the city, but at least the hostel I'm staying at (The Pickled Frog) is fairly hairy.
From here I'll soon be moving back to the mainland and Sydney. For now I'm not quite sure what I should blog about. A lot of things are happening, and the imp inside my camera is working hard on documenting it all. I'll just briefly give you some vital information, not necessarily facts:
* Near Albany I witnessed giant waves hitting the cliffs on the Flinders Peninsula. These waves push all of Australia northwards at a pace of 5 centimeters per year. This means that in 80 million years, Australia will be back where it is now, having traveled around the world!
* Unlike ravens in the rest of the world, Australian ravens like to inhale helium from balloons, which makes them sound like Smurf-Ravens. It's a lot of fun listening to them whining.
* There's a brand of beer here called XXXX, because no one knew how to spell "beer" when they were to market their new brew.
* Hostels in the countryside are often empty, so I've spent a few nights having dorms all to myself. Hostels in the cities are full of Asians who spend the nights fornicating in the bathrooms. This is much unlike the situation ten years ago, when all Asians were traveling on their own and being very intellectual about it.
* The Overland Track, a hiking trip that comes to about 100 kilometers of walking if you include all sidetrips you should do, is limited to allowing only 60 or so walkers onto it per day. This is because the hike is very popular because it's got a cool name AND all the strenuous parts of it are outfitted with boardwalks. I'm pretty sure that if they had called it "The Aboriginal Track" instead, hardly any Australians at all would have walked it, and they would not have had to limit the number of walkers. It seems that anything that has something to do with Aboriginals is largely ignored by most of the people in Godzone.
* On the cold beaches of the southern part of Western Australia there is often a larger contingent of rescue team members than there is of swimmers and sunbathers. And they're not even being paid to be there, as they are volunteers. They don't have to do much, since the water is so cold that I'm surprised there weren't more penguins around.
* Tasmania is STILL full of criminals, it seems. Wherever I go, stuff I put in the communal fridge seems to disappear into thin air. Oh well, mustn't grumble...
* Hiking in Freycinet includes a lot of climbing of rocks. The park receives 300 000 visitors annually, of which many are NOT experienced hikers, but they hike anyway. Because of this, I am happy to report that underwear seems to be rarely used in this country. I've seen an awful lot of people in awkward positions negotiating steep hills in ways that shows off large areas of buttcrack. There's hardly any sign of anyone wearing undies at all!
* I'm still alive.
And I'll be back. I promise.
Oh, and Happy New Year, everyone!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
Monday, December 8, 2008
Australia Number 1!
The Downunders are competitive people. Now they have managed to become the number one polluting nation in the world (as in both hemispheres) per capita! Thanks to long distances that needs to be covered to move people and goods around, many a large town that is run not on power plants but on diesel aggregates, numerous heavily polluting mines and lots and lots of farting sheep, they're really running the planet down!
It seems they intend to keep this position. There's not much more they can do to become worse, but they sure try hard. Between Perth and the rest of the country there's both a road and a railroad. On the road there is no scheduled bus service. If you want to go by road, you'll have to buy a car and drive it across the Nullarbor plains. If you want to go by train, which presumably would hurt the environmental badness of Australia, you'll have to book your ticket well in advance. There's only ONE weekly train between Perth and Adelaide/Sydney, and on that train there are only about 124 sleeper seats!
The result? There are LOTS of flights, both cheap and expensive ones, to and from Perth, and people get on them. It seems that will have to be my option as well, although I really wanted to cross the Nullarbor by land. I've already seen the second longest straight stretch of land, near Coral Bay, so I don't think I'm missing out on much, but still...
What's more, Australia has managed the impressive feat of becoming the most obesive nation in the world! The US is really losing all their hegemonies these days. Food is not even particularly cheap here, they still eat and eat and eat, and leave most of the exercise to be done in Australia to their Olympic swimming team. Sustain-a-belly dwell-up-ment, they call it, I believe.
To make sure that nobody performs any slimming activities, the Australians have introduced tight limits on how many people are allowed to go on the most beautiful walks available in the country. On The Overland Track in Tasmania, for instance, only about 60 people are allowed onto the track per day. And a large portion of those who walk it are actually foreigners. Like me! I'll be going on December 24, yay! I still have to make my way to Tasmania in time for it, but that shouldn't be too difficult.
Right now I'm warming up for the Overland Track by walking sections on the Bibbulmun Track in the south of Western Australia. It's also a beautiful walk, with amazing, tall Karri trees. In a couple of months I'll show you the photos.
It seems they intend to keep this position. There's not much more they can do to become worse, but they sure try hard. Between Perth and the rest of the country there's both a road and a railroad. On the road there is no scheduled bus service. If you want to go by road, you'll have to buy a car and drive it across the Nullarbor plains. If you want to go by train, which presumably would hurt the environmental badness of Australia, you'll have to book your ticket well in advance. There's only ONE weekly train between Perth and Adelaide/Sydney, and on that train there are only about 124 sleeper seats!
The result? There are LOTS of flights, both cheap and expensive ones, to and from Perth, and people get on them. It seems that will have to be my option as well, although I really wanted to cross the Nullarbor by land. I've already seen the second longest straight stretch of land, near Coral Bay, so I don't think I'm missing out on much, but still...
What's more, Australia has managed the impressive feat of becoming the most obesive nation in the world! The US is really losing all their hegemonies these days. Food is not even particularly cheap here, they still eat and eat and eat, and leave most of the exercise to be done in Australia to their Olympic swimming team. Sustain-a-belly dwell-up-ment, they call it, I believe.
To make sure that nobody performs any slimming activities, the Australians have introduced tight limits on how many people are allowed to go on the most beautiful walks available in the country. On The Overland Track in Tasmania, for instance, only about 60 people are allowed onto the track per day. And a large portion of those who walk it are actually foreigners. Like me! I'll be going on December 24, yay! I still have to make my way to Tasmania in time for it, but that shouldn't be too difficult.
Right now I'm warming up for the Overland Track by walking sections on the Bibbulmun Track in the south of Western Australia. It's also a beautiful walk, with amazing, tall Karri trees. In a couple of months I'll show you the photos.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Nature Calls
I just had the most intense cinema experience of my life, in the Sun Pictures outdoor movie theatre.
Since the wet season is starting, pretty much all tours and destinations north of Broome are closed down for the season. So, to get to see at least some of it, I went to see the movie "Australia", which was shot in the Kimberley region just north of Broome. Now, there's nothing special about the movie, but that movie and that cinema is just about the best combo I've come across ever since I tried putting potato chips on bread. You should try it once. Both the cinema and the chips.
The cinema is "the world's oldest picture gardens", which may be true, or maybe it's just something the Australians like to think, like they often do, and when they discover there's something older, better, faster, taller somewhere, they just add "in the Southern Hemisphere", and then they're usually right. Anyway, the place is from 1912 or so, and it hasn't changed much in the meantime. Everything is built in slightly termite-chewed wood, on the walls there are old movie posters, you sit in beach chairs on a lawn, and the popcorn tastes just perfect.
The movie, however, is brand new. Nicole Kidman is in it, but she is bare noticable compared to the main star of the movie, namely the landscape of the Kimberley. It's an easy plot. An English lady comes to Australia to see to her husband and her property. The husband dies, so that the lady can fall in love with a cowboy. WW2 begins, the Japanese are bad guys and the Aboriginals are good guys, and there's a happy ending. Fair enough.
While the movie is basic, watching it outdoors in Broome is fantastic, because:
* When the movie begins you discover that the screen has lots of geckos on it, running around and feasting on the flies that are attracted by the light from the movie. Some flies are caught by large bats instead, and the bats seem even larger when they're projected onto the screen as they fly in front of the light beam of the movie. And if that's not enough wildlife for you, you'll find that lizards and snakes wiggle their way through the grass just in front of you during the parts of the movie when the audience is quiet enough.
* It turns out that the cinema you're in also is IN the movie! Suddenly watching the movie is like looking into a mirror, except the people in the mirror are wearing 1942 clothing, and they look straight back at you. Surreal! (The movie was shot in the very same cinema.)
* The highlight of the movie was during a scene where Japanese war planes are on their way to bomb the town in the movie. I have no idea how they did it, but just then a large plane flew 50 meters above our heads, making a deafening sound! The cinema is right next to the local airport, so it could of course happening, but the timing was just unreal!
An evening to remember, for sure.
There's much more to tell, but the short story for now is that I flew back to Perth from Broome, and I am now doing the southern part of Western Australia. When I'm done with that I'll go to Tasmania. You see, I've managed to secure a place on the VERY limited access Overland Track there, starting on December 24. I am very excite!
I'll get back to you soon. If I don't fall down from the Bicentennial Tree tomorrow, that is. Google it. #8D)
Since the wet season is starting, pretty much all tours and destinations north of Broome are closed down for the season. So, to get to see at least some of it, I went to see the movie "Australia", which was shot in the Kimberley region just north of Broome. Now, there's nothing special about the movie, but that movie and that cinema is just about the best combo I've come across ever since I tried putting potato chips on bread. You should try it once. Both the cinema and the chips.
The cinema is "the world's oldest picture gardens", which may be true, or maybe it's just something the Australians like to think, like they often do, and when they discover there's something older, better, faster, taller somewhere, they just add "in the Southern Hemisphere", and then they're usually right. Anyway, the place is from 1912 or so, and it hasn't changed much in the meantime. Everything is built in slightly termite-chewed wood, on the walls there are old movie posters, you sit in beach chairs on a lawn, and the popcorn tastes just perfect.
The movie, however, is brand new. Nicole Kidman is in it, but she is bare noticable compared to the main star of the movie, namely the landscape of the Kimberley. It's an easy plot. An English lady comes to Australia to see to her husband and her property. The husband dies, so that the lady can fall in love with a cowboy. WW2 begins, the Japanese are bad guys and the Aboriginals are good guys, and there's a happy ending. Fair enough.
While the movie is basic, watching it outdoors in Broome is fantastic, because:
* When the movie begins you discover that the screen has lots of geckos on it, running around and feasting on the flies that are attracted by the light from the movie. Some flies are caught by large bats instead, and the bats seem even larger when they're projected onto the screen as they fly in front of the light beam of the movie. And if that's not enough wildlife for you, you'll find that lizards and snakes wiggle their way through the grass just in front of you during the parts of the movie when the audience is quiet enough.
* It turns out that the cinema you're in also is IN the movie! Suddenly watching the movie is like looking into a mirror, except the people in the mirror are wearing 1942 clothing, and they look straight back at you. Surreal! (The movie was shot in the very same cinema.)
* The highlight of the movie was during a scene where Japanese war planes are on their way to bomb the town in the movie. I have no idea how they did it, but just then a large plane flew 50 meters above our heads, making a deafening sound! The cinema is right next to the local airport, so it could of course happening, but the timing was just unreal!
An evening to remember, for sure.
There's much more to tell, but the short story for now is that I flew back to Perth from Broome, and I am now doing the southern part of Western Australia. When I'm done with that I'll go to Tasmania. You see, I've managed to secure a place on the VERY limited access Overland Track there, starting on December 24. I am very excite!
I'll get back to you soon. If I don't fall down from the Bicentennial Tree tomorrow, that is. Google it. #8D)
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Careless being carless in Karijini
Wohey! I've just spent some days in the prettiest thing Australia has on offer now that the impressive buttocks of both Kylie and Elle seems to have gone missing.
First you drive for hours and hours and hours across flat land that from a distance looks so nice, green and lush that you have to wonder why the sheep standing along the road look so grumpy. Then you make a stop, to pee or to pull a rotting kangaroo corpse off the road, or both, and you see that between the green bushes there's plenty of red, infertile dirt, and the bushes themselves are armed with long, sharp, lethal needles that could outcompete any kind of porcupine. Poor sheep!
Every 300 kilometers or so there's a petrol station and a roadhouse, and you don't drive past it. You stop, and you fill your tank with petrol at a price two or three times what you might have had to pay for it in any of this continent's major cities. Or if you're twelve years old or so, maybe you just spend all your pocket money for the entire week on a can of Coke or something like that. Life is hard, and expensive, in the outback.
Maybe you drive through Marble Bar, a place that a few hundred souls calls home, and they're proud of the fact that they officially live in the hottest town in Australia. The title was won when they for 160 days in a row could observe the thermometer rise to above 100 degrees Fahrenheit, 37.8 degrees Celsius. That's actually true, just look here.
Then, right in the middle of the dry hell, you suddenly arrive in the Karijini National Park. It's still a hot place to visit, but you don't care. Down in the many gorges in the park the temperature is bearable, especially because there's a large number of places you can swim and cool down, natural pools that underground rivers fill up with fairly cool water. Besides, it's all just so stunningly beautiful that you forget about the heat.
I spent the last 4-5 days in the park, almost all on my own. During this time of the year the temperature is usually even higher than what it has been lately, and because of this, very few people plan to go there to enjoy themselves between December and March.
I had been warned that I would have to bring all the supplies I would need. But when I arrived, I found a lovely camp, Karijini Eco Retreat, supported by the aboriginal community, where I could get cold drinks, and where I could rent a nice tent with a bed in it. And I could zip off the outer walls of the tent, so that at night a cooling breeze could come in and help me sleep, and in the mornings I would lie in my bed and look out at brilliant sunsets, beautiful colours gradually filling the sky, creating the perfect backdrop for the silhouettes of acasia and eucalyptus trees. Now, THERE's a good way to start your day!
I went on a walkabout in the park. Or to be more exact, I got lost. I carried plenty of water, so it wasn't really a problem. Well, I survived, anyway. I found my way back to the camp, but before doing so, I found a tree that stood by itself, gushing out blood. "That's weird", I said to myself, and photographed it. Back in the camp I showed the photo to the people working there, and they were impressed.
Apparently I had found a pharmacy tree, and it was bleeding/producing medicine as if there was no tomorrow, which was rather unusual, I was told. I took some people back to the tree and we gathered crystallized chunks of the "blood" from the bloodwood tree. The stuff is supposed to be good for your heart, and dissolved in boiling water it becomes a drink that will cure a cold and stop your coughing. They let me try it, but since I did not have a cold the medicine must have become confused, and helped me produce copious amounts of gas instead. It's a good thing I had a tent for myself, and that there were no immediate neighbours of it either.
Supposedly I got off easy. I met someone else who also had tried drinking The Stuff, and she had just started ejecting the contents of her stomach both upwards and downwards. At least she had lost her cough! I'll bring some blood crystals back home with me, so that you, my friends, also can get to try it. It tastes horrible.
Anyway, I'm still alive, and I have now vroomed to Broome. I haven't done much here yet, but I have bought new shorts. The last ones were torn and ripped in dozens of places after too much rough climbing in the Karijini cliffsides. It was SO worth it!
First you drive for hours and hours and hours across flat land that from a distance looks so nice, green and lush that you have to wonder why the sheep standing along the road look so grumpy. Then you make a stop, to pee or to pull a rotting kangaroo corpse off the road, or both, and you see that between the green bushes there's plenty of red, infertile dirt, and the bushes themselves are armed with long, sharp, lethal needles that could outcompete any kind of porcupine. Poor sheep!
Every 300 kilometers or so there's a petrol station and a roadhouse, and you don't drive past it. You stop, and you fill your tank with petrol at a price two or three times what you might have had to pay for it in any of this continent's major cities. Or if you're twelve years old or so, maybe you just spend all your pocket money for the entire week on a can of Coke or something like that. Life is hard, and expensive, in the outback.
Maybe you drive through Marble Bar, a place that a few hundred souls calls home, and they're proud of the fact that they officially live in the hottest town in Australia. The title was won when they for 160 days in a row could observe the thermometer rise to above 100 degrees Fahrenheit, 37.8 degrees Celsius. That's actually true, just look here.
Then, right in the middle of the dry hell, you suddenly arrive in the Karijini National Park. It's still a hot place to visit, but you don't care. Down in the many gorges in the park the temperature is bearable, especially because there's a large number of places you can swim and cool down, natural pools that underground rivers fill up with fairly cool water. Besides, it's all just so stunningly beautiful that you forget about the heat.
I spent the last 4-5 days in the park, almost all on my own. During this time of the year the temperature is usually even higher than what it has been lately, and because of this, very few people plan to go there to enjoy themselves between December and March.
I had been warned that I would have to bring all the supplies I would need. But when I arrived, I found a lovely camp, Karijini Eco Retreat, supported by the aboriginal community, where I could get cold drinks, and where I could rent a nice tent with a bed in it. And I could zip off the outer walls of the tent, so that at night a cooling breeze could come in and help me sleep, and in the mornings I would lie in my bed and look out at brilliant sunsets, beautiful colours gradually filling the sky, creating the perfect backdrop for the silhouettes of acasia and eucalyptus trees. Now, THERE's a good way to start your day!
I went on a walkabout in the park. Or to be more exact, I got lost. I carried plenty of water, so it wasn't really a problem. Well, I survived, anyway. I found my way back to the camp, but before doing so, I found a tree that stood by itself, gushing out blood. "That's weird", I said to myself, and photographed it. Back in the camp I showed the photo to the people working there, and they were impressed.
Apparently I had found a pharmacy tree, and it was bleeding/producing medicine as if there was no tomorrow, which was rather unusual, I was told. I took some people back to the tree and we gathered crystallized chunks of the "blood" from the bloodwood tree. The stuff is supposed to be good for your heart, and dissolved in boiling water it becomes a drink that will cure a cold and stop your coughing. They let me try it, but since I did not have a cold the medicine must have become confused, and helped me produce copious amounts of gas instead. It's a good thing I had a tent for myself, and that there were no immediate neighbours of it either.
Supposedly I got off easy. I met someone else who also had tried drinking The Stuff, and she had just started ejecting the contents of her stomach both upwards and downwards. At least she had lost her cough! I'll bring some blood crystals back home with me, so that you, my friends, also can get to try it. It tastes horrible.
Anyway, I'm still alive, and I have now vroomed to Broome. I haven't done much here yet, but I have bought new shorts. The last ones were torn and ripped in dozens of places after too much rough climbing in the Karijini cliffsides. It was SO worth it!
Friday, November 21, 2008
Monkey Miarea
You just know you're off the beaten path in Australia when fruit grown in the very same country costs more in the shops than they do in shops in Norway.
And as if I needed further clues, when I was at the local pub the other night, people introduced themselves to me as Rex, Shelz, Jimboy, Mugsy, Pep, Skeg and Wookie. And those were not even made-up names, they had the driver licenses to prove that these were their actual names!
I temporarily settled in Denham, the "capital" of the Shark Bay shire. People there seemed to lead nice lives, although there weren't that many of them. Some of them mainly drink beer, others have several other jobs as well. When I wanted to rent a car, I was told to go talk to the hairdresser, as he also was the local rental company. Oh, and I should go to him outside school hours, as he was also the principal of the school there. When I finally got hold of him, it was of little use to me. The rental car (he only has one) would not be available until sometime next month. Oh well...
Denham has existed for quite a while. I found a tombstone from 1905 at the local cemetary. It may be difficult to live in Denham, but it must be even harder to die there. During the 103 years that have passed since the first grave was dug, only 65 people or so have succeeded in ending their lives in or near the town. At least that's my conclusion after having counted the tombstones. I had to ask someone whether this low number was just because they didn't usually put up a tombstone when someone was eaten whole by one of the many sharks in the area. But no. The only thing coming even close to a shark attack that anyone had heard about, was when a large, old, stuffed fish in the "restaurant" fell down during a particularly lively evening there, and hit someone in the head, causing a concussion.
I spent a day exploring the area on foot. Many a time my heart stopped as something completely unexpected jumped out of a bush just a few meters away and ran off into the distance. My best shock of the day was when the escapist turned out to be some kind of strange lizard that ran using only its hind legs, much like a person. I wish all animals would do that!
I also discovered a strange spider, Golden or Yellow Orb Something. It's venomous, but not really dangerous. Much like this blog. When you carelessly walk straight into its web, it's like walking into a rope or a hard-strung wire, and you do that a lot. Someone else have of course discovered it before me, and not only have they done so, they even have taken some of the spider DNA and merged it with goat DNA. So now there are goats walking around that instead of producing milk can be "milked" for really sturdy rope. This material is used to make bulletproof vests, even more robust than Kevlar. Scientists ARE mad!
Near Denham is Monkey Mia, a world heritage area. It's well-known for being home to large herds of seacows and dolphins. So I have spent the last couple of days feeding dolphins by hand and tipping sleeping seacows. At least I've done some of that, you guess which.
My next stop is Coral Bay. Good luck in finding that on the map!
And as if I needed further clues, when I was at the local pub the other night, people introduced themselves to me as Rex, Shelz, Jimboy, Mugsy, Pep, Skeg and Wookie. And those were not even made-up names, they had the driver licenses to prove that these were their actual names!
I temporarily settled in Denham, the "capital" of the Shark Bay shire. People there seemed to lead nice lives, although there weren't that many of them. Some of them mainly drink beer, others have several other jobs as well. When I wanted to rent a car, I was told to go talk to the hairdresser, as he also was the local rental company. Oh, and I should go to him outside school hours, as he was also the principal of the school there. When I finally got hold of him, it was of little use to me. The rental car (he only has one) would not be available until sometime next month. Oh well...
Denham has existed for quite a while. I found a tombstone from 1905 at the local cemetary. It may be difficult to live in Denham, but it must be even harder to die there. During the 103 years that have passed since the first grave was dug, only 65 people or so have succeeded in ending their lives in or near the town. At least that's my conclusion after having counted the tombstones. I had to ask someone whether this low number was just because they didn't usually put up a tombstone when someone was eaten whole by one of the many sharks in the area. But no. The only thing coming even close to a shark attack that anyone had heard about, was when a large, old, stuffed fish in the "restaurant" fell down during a particularly lively evening there, and hit someone in the head, causing a concussion.
I spent a day exploring the area on foot. Many a time my heart stopped as something completely unexpected jumped out of a bush just a few meters away and ran off into the distance. My best shock of the day was when the escapist turned out to be some kind of strange lizard that ran using only its hind legs, much like a person. I wish all animals would do that!
I also discovered a strange spider, Golden or Yellow Orb Something. It's venomous, but not really dangerous. Much like this blog. When you carelessly walk straight into its web, it's like walking into a rope or a hard-strung wire, and you do that a lot. Someone else have of course discovered it before me, and not only have they done so, they even have taken some of the spider DNA and merged it with goat DNA. So now there are goats walking around that instead of producing milk can be "milked" for really sturdy rope. This material is used to make bulletproof vests, even more robust than Kevlar. Scientists ARE mad!
Near Denham is Monkey Mia, a world heritage area. It's well-known for being home to large herds of seacows and dolphins. So I have spent the last couple of days feeding dolphins by hand and tipping sleeping seacows. At least I've done some of that, you guess which.
My next stop is Coral Bay. Good luck in finding that on the map!
Kalbarri never hosted the Winter Olympics
At last I managed to escape from Perth and the questionable "hostel" there. Now that I cannot be beaten up in a dark corner of the place anymore, I'll be happy to reveal that I'm talking about The Grand Backpacker Central in downtown Perth. I look forward to writing a report on the place, although I'm not sure whether I should submit it to www.hostels.com or to the local police!
My first stop out of Perth was The Pinnacles near Cervantes. It's just thousands and thousands of pointy rocks, possibly fossilized tree trunks, in the middle of a small, yellow desert. It's a great place to visit, especially if you're into vivid colours and phallic symbols in general.
When I left the place, my camera told me that during my stay I had taken on average two photographs per minute. I must have enjoyed seeing it very much. Poor me, who sooner or later will have to go through all my travel photos and pick some of them for the rest of the world to see...
I moved on to Kalbarri, a cute and picturesque little fisherman's village with about two thousand inhabitants. It's located some 600 kilometres north of Perth. Since there aren't really that many alternatives, this means that lots of Perthians drive up there for the weekend, easily doubling the number of people in town.
The coziness of the place is in the details; it's nigh on impossible to buy even something as simple as a bread or a roll without having to spend half an eternity discussing the weather with the baker's wife. Oh, and in the afternoon, hundreds of pink cockatoos or something fly in to eat grass from the lawns in the village, so that the locals don't have to do any mowing. Very practical!
The beaches are nice and the streets see little traffic. So this is the kind of place where parents can let their children be children and run freely around, knowing that the worst that can happen is that they will fall and get a scratch on the knee. Or they could step on a snake, be bitten and die. Or they can fall in the water and be swiftly carried off to Africa by rip currents. Or they can be eaten by sharks. Or be horrifyingly burnt by strange, jello-y creatures of the sea. Or be struck by any of the many other surprises that Australian nature has in store for people equally or less careful than the late Steve Irwin.
I went for a walk of about 20 kilometers along the coast just south of Kalbarri. It's a national park with tall cliffs and ample supplies of coastal bush. It took nine hours to complete! That's partially because I had a talk with a park ranger about venomous snakes before I started walking, but mainly because there was so much to see along the trail: A super-blue ocean, whales on the move south to Antarctica, dolphins hunting for fish, kangaroos looking goofy and/or jumping about, and last, but not least, scenic viewpoints near parking lots, where you can enjoy incredible numbers of skirts flying straight up as the strong winds from the sea do their best.
Kalbarri is a windy place. At night the wind howls so much that you can only barely hear the snoring in the hostel dorm!
Next up is Monkey Mia. Even just the name of the place makes me want to go there.
My first stop out of Perth was The Pinnacles near Cervantes. It's just thousands and thousands of pointy rocks, possibly fossilized tree trunks, in the middle of a small, yellow desert. It's a great place to visit, especially if you're into vivid colours and phallic symbols in general.
When I left the place, my camera told me that during my stay I had taken on average two photographs per minute. I must have enjoyed seeing it very much. Poor me, who sooner or later will have to go through all my travel photos and pick some of them for the rest of the world to see...
I moved on to Kalbarri, a cute and picturesque little fisherman's village with about two thousand inhabitants. It's located some 600 kilometres north of Perth. Since there aren't really that many alternatives, this means that lots of Perthians drive up there for the weekend, easily doubling the number of people in town.
The coziness of the place is in the details; it's nigh on impossible to buy even something as simple as a bread or a roll without having to spend half an eternity discussing the weather with the baker's wife. Oh, and in the afternoon, hundreds of pink cockatoos or something fly in to eat grass from the lawns in the village, so that the locals don't have to do any mowing. Very practical!
The beaches are nice and the streets see little traffic. So this is the kind of place where parents can let their children be children and run freely around, knowing that the worst that can happen is that they will fall and get a scratch on the knee. Or they could step on a snake, be bitten and die. Or they can fall in the water and be swiftly carried off to Africa by rip currents. Or they can be eaten by sharks. Or be horrifyingly burnt by strange, jello-y creatures of the sea. Or be struck by any of the many other surprises that Australian nature has in store for people equally or less careful than the late Steve Irwin.
I went for a walk of about 20 kilometers along the coast just south of Kalbarri. It's a national park with tall cliffs and ample supplies of coastal bush. It took nine hours to complete! That's partially because I had a talk with a park ranger about venomous snakes before I started walking, but mainly because there was so much to see along the trail: A super-blue ocean, whales on the move south to Antarctica, dolphins hunting for fish, kangaroos looking goofy and/or jumping about, and last, but not least, scenic viewpoints near parking lots, where you can enjoy incredible numbers of skirts flying straight up as the strong winds from the sea do their best.
Kalbarri is a windy place. At night the wind howls so much that you can only barely hear the snoring in the hostel dorm!
Next up is Monkey Mia. Even just the name of the place makes me want to go there.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Hostel from Hell
Tropical rain of the monsoon kind filled Singapore with dreary weather just as I arrived at the airport to leave for Perth, so I guess I was lucky with the weather. And with Singapore in general. When you go straight from there to Australia, there are some things you really notice and appreciate about Singapore.
Like everyone else, Australians are of the opinion that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. The difference is just that Australians seem to think that they are already on that other side of the fence. I'm not so sure that is completely the case.
As I sarcastically commented upon the price for transportation from the airport to downtown Perth, the driver mumbled something about that I should remember that Australia is a huge country, and that Perth is closer to the Moon than to Sydney.
I remain unconvinced that this was a relevant piece of information, or whether that is a fact or not. What IS a fact, though, is that Perth is located so far away from the rest of the world, that they seem to have no idea there's a world-wide financial meltdown going on. So here in Perth they still build skyscrapers and keep investing all the money they may or may not have. And to do this, they need lots of people to help them with construction work of all kinds. This means that backpackers from all over, desperate to make money on their Work Holiday Visa, are arriving in Perth like never before. And this, in turn, meant that I had a hard time finding anywhere to stay here. All the hostels were full, and I'm not really into five star hotels.
So, now I stay at the decidedly worst hole of a hostel I've ever encountered, except for that one time when I shared a room, and eventually a bed, with three rats in a little village on Java. And it's not even cheap! It IS dirty, however. And right in the middle of Perth. As flash as a rat with a gold tooth, as the Australians say.
We are few actual travelers staying there. I've met three so far, including myself. The rest are people who work long hours, and for the rest of the time sit in front of a TV, completely mentally gone. Oh, and there's a room full of Asians, more of them than there are square meters in the room, I think. They also pay way too much for the room, but in return they have not had to show their papers to the receptionist. Or tell anyone where they're actually from. Wherever that is, I am pretty sure that now they have more items in their beds than they ever owned at home. It's a complete mess.
We're not allowed to access the third floor. "It's too dangerous, the floors may collapse at any moment! If you go there, you will be evicted from the hostel!", the manager says. And then he goes up there. I'm just guessing, but could the floor house an urban marihuana farm, perhaps?
So now I'm doing all I can to get away from Perth, as supposedly it's easier to find a decent place to stay anywhere but here. I'll leave on a bus north to Kalbarri tomorrow morning, so I'm fine.
Yesterday I visited the Western Australian Museum and learned about the sand frog, which lives in the Great Sandy Desert, which sounds just about right. It's a fat frog, apparently, but 50 % of its body weight is "fairly dilute urine" housed inside one of the most impressive bladders of the whole animal kingdom. So, if you're lost in the desert and thirsty, just get yourself one of these, make a hole and squeeze out your frog juice! Yummy!
If there's anything else you'd like to know about survival in Australia, just wait for more blog entries and learn!
#8D)
Like everyone else, Australians are of the opinion that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. The difference is just that Australians seem to think that they are already on that other side of the fence. I'm not so sure that is completely the case.
As I sarcastically commented upon the price for transportation from the airport to downtown Perth, the driver mumbled something about that I should remember that Australia is a huge country, and that Perth is closer to the Moon than to Sydney.
I remain unconvinced that this was a relevant piece of information, or whether that is a fact or not. What IS a fact, though, is that Perth is located so far away from the rest of the world, that they seem to have no idea there's a world-wide financial meltdown going on. So here in Perth they still build skyscrapers and keep investing all the money they may or may not have. And to do this, they need lots of people to help them with construction work of all kinds. This means that backpackers from all over, desperate to make money on their Work Holiday Visa, are arriving in Perth like never before. And this, in turn, meant that I had a hard time finding anywhere to stay here. All the hostels were full, and I'm not really into five star hotels.
So, now I stay at the decidedly worst hole of a hostel I've ever encountered, except for that one time when I shared a room, and eventually a bed, with three rats in a little village on Java. And it's not even cheap! It IS dirty, however. And right in the middle of Perth. As flash as a rat with a gold tooth, as the Australians say.
We are few actual travelers staying there. I've met three so far, including myself. The rest are people who work long hours, and for the rest of the time sit in front of a TV, completely mentally gone. Oh, and there's a room full of Asians, more of them than there are square meters in the room, I think. They also pay way too much for the room, but in return they have not had to show their papers to the receptionist. Or tell anyone where they're actually from. Wherever that is, I am pretty sure that now they have more items in their beds than they ever owned at home. It's a complete mess.
We're not allowed to access the third floor. "It's too dangerous, the floors may collapse at any moment! If you go there, you will be evicted from the hostel!", the manager says. And then he goes up there. I'm just guessing, but could the floor house an urban marihuana farm, perhaps?
So now I'm doing all I can to get away from Perth, as supposedly it's easier to find a decent place to stay anywhere but here. I'll leave on a bus north to Kalbarri tomorrow morning, so I'm fine.
Yesterday I visited the Western Australian Museum and learned about the sand frog, which lives in the Great Sandy Desert, which sounds just about right. It's a fat frog, apparently, but 50 % of its body weight is "fairly dilute urine" housed inside one of the most impressive bladders of the whole animal kingdom. So, if you're lost in the desert and thirsty, just get yourself one of these, make a hole and squeeze out your frog juice! Yummy!
If there's anything else you'd like to know about survival in Australia, just wait for more blog entries and learn!
#8D)
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Changeapore
After I visited Singapore 11 years ago (!), I wrote that I would probably never return to this place. And right I was, because Singapore of today is not at all like what it was back then!
Not only have people bought themselves new cell phones, they have also gained a LOT of weight! Several times I've been sitting at the metro here and thought that the person next to me must have fallen asleep, when it turned out that they were simply so obese that they snore even when awake. Have you seen "The March of the Penguin"? You know, the movie where masses of penguins come waddling across the ice, walking from the coast where they have become fat by eating fish, while others had to stay on the ice and hatch the new batch of chicks? Well, the sidewalks in Singapore look much like that.
It struck me when I and the Singaporeans were about to walk across the street when the green man said so. Last time I visited I was very much impressed by the efficiency of the local walkers. Now they have forgotten everything about walking in a big city. They slowly amble along,seemingly at random, with no coordinated direction or pace. When the two groups meet in the middle of a road that needs to be crossed, it often ends in disaster. People crash into each other, and some will fall over, onto their back, unable to regain a standing position. Sometimes cranes have to be brought in to remedy the situation. It's a sad sight. The Burger King here sells four storey Whoppers. Now, if that's not a sign of a nation in decline, I don't know what is.
Oh, and that whole thing with waiting for a green man before you cross the street? That was something that people took seriously eleven years ago. Snipers on the rooftops would kill of anyone that walked on red back then. So people waited for the green man, even when the nearest car was somewhere on the other side of India. Now? They just walk if they feel like it. I have seen no police around to convince people to do otherwise, and there are no more signs around warning about ginormous fines for offences like that. A sad development, in deed.
But there's one street that is easy and safe to walk across. Not to brag, but I believe that the street where my hotel is located hosts the best prostitutes in all of Singapore. I can't tell by looking at THEM (they all look the same to me, try your luck at AllLookSame.com if you think you can do any better), but the constant still-standing traffic, consisting mainly of single, sad-looking men, tells me everything I need to know. They are there 24 hours a day.
There are lots of 24 hour things around. For instance 24 hour suits. At first I thought they might be good hotel rooms for prostitutes. They're not. That will be 3 hour suits. 24 hour suits are really cheep clothes for business men. By the looks of them, 24 hours is not how long it takes to make them, but how long they will last before they fall apart. But hey, they're cheap!
Did I mention that people in Singapore are poor walkers? They slowly glide down the sidewalks, often stopping completely, forcing me to walk straight into them. The only way they can get going again is by pushing a button inside their nostrils. It's true! Or maybe not, but the fact of the matter is that people here pick their noses a lot, particularly while walking outside. Which reminds me of a joke I heard recently: My wife said that picking nose is disgusting, so now I have to do it myself. Oh well, enough of that.
I've been to many strange sights during the last three days, but the National Museum of Art brought the weirdest experience. I was really sweaty and foul-smelling after a long day of walking, and had planned to just pop by the museum on my way back to the hotel. It turned out that there was an official reception there, because a new exhibition of Korean artists was opening. The ambassador of Korea greeted me eagerly and pulled me over to a table where he told me to help myself to some grilled pig testicles and a large ration of butterfly larvae that had not yet suffered their deaths. Apart from that there were lots of nice things to look at there, some of them wearing cocktail dresses.
Anyway, there's lots more to tell about Singapore. I may tell you later, but now I'm going to the hotel to pack, and tomorrow morning I'm off to Perth, Australia!
Not only have people bought themselves new cell phones, they have also gained a LOT of weight! Several times I've been sitting at the metro here and thought that the person next to me must have fallen asleep, when it turned out that they were simply so obese that they snore even when awake. Have you seen "The March of the Penguin"? You know, the movie where masses of penguins come waddling across the ice, walking from the coast where they have become fat by eating fish, while others had to stay on the ice and hatch the new batch of chicks? Well, the sidewalks in Singapore look much like that.
It struck me when I and the Singaporeans were about to walk across the street when the green man said so. Last time I visited I was very much impressed by the efficiency of the local walkers. Now they have forgotten everything about walking in a big city. They slowly amble along,seemingly at random, with no coordinated direction or pace. When the two groups meet in the middle of a road that needs to be crossed, it often ends in disaster. People crash into each other, and some will fall over, onto their back, unable to regain a standing position. Sometimes cranes have to be brought in to remedy the situation. It's a sad sight. The Burger King here sells four storey Whoppers. Now, if that's not a sign of a nation in decline, I don't know what is.
Oh, and that whole thing with waiting for a green man before you cross the street? That was something that people took seriously eleven years ago. Snipers on the rooftops would kill of anyone that walked on red back then. So people waited for the green man, even when the nearest car was somewhere on the other side of India. Now? They just walk if they feel like it. I have seen no police around to convince people to do otherwise, and there are no more signs around warning about ginormous fines for offences like that. A sad development, in deed.
But there's one street that is easy and safe to walk across. Not to brag, but I believe that the street where my hotel is located hosts the best prostitutes in all of Singapore. I can't tell by looking at THEM (they all look the same to me, try your luck at AllLookSame.com if you think you can do any better), but the constant still-standing traffic, consisting mainly of single, sad-looking men, tells me everything I need to know. They are there 24 hours a day.
There are lots of 24 hour things around. For instance 24 hour suits. At first I thought they might be good hotel rooms for prostitutes. They're not. That will be 3 hour suits. 24 hour suits are really cheep clothes for business men. By the looks of them, 24 hours is not how long it takes to make them, but how long they will last before they fall apart. But hey, they're cheap!
Did I mention that people in Singapore are poor walkers? They slowly glide down the sidewalks, often stopping completely, forcing me to walk straight into them. The only way they can get going again is by pushing a button inside their nostrils. It's true! Or maybe not, but the fact of the matter is that people here pick their noses a lot, particularly while walking outside. Which reminds me of a joke I heard recently: My wife said that picking nose is disgusting, so now I have to do it myself. Oh well, enough of that.
I've been to many strange sights during the last three days, but the National Museum of Art brought the weirdest experience. I was really sweaty and foul-smelling after a long day of walking, and had planned to just pop by the museum on my way back to the hotel. It turned out that there was an official reception there, because a new exhibition of Korean artists was opening. The ambassador of Korea greeted me eagerly and pulled me over to a table where he told me to help myself to some grilled pig testicles and a large ration of butterfly larvae that had not yet suffered their deaths. Apart from that there were lots of nice things to look at there, some of them wearing cocktail dresses.
Anyway, there's lots more to tell about Singapore. I may tell you later, but now I'm going to the hotel to pack, and tomorrow morning I'm off to Perth, Australia!
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Singalong
I've made it to Singapore, and so far everything has gone according to my non-existent plan. There has been only one minor obstacle, and that was this question on the immigration form to Singapore: "Have you ever been to Africa or South America during the last six days?"
Well, I "have been to South America and Africa ever" since the very first time I went to South America, a long time ago. Still, I decided to answer "No", since I figured that would increase my chances of being allowed entrance to Singapore. I have no idea why they would ask that question anyway. Maybe no one from Singapore have ever been there themselves, so if anyone could please tell them what it's like there, and whether maybe the Africans and South Americans would be interested in cheap electronics and plastics, they'd be very interested to hear about it? Maybe.
Yesterday was spent in London. I had eight hours to kill between the plane from Oslo and the plane to Singapore, so I took the underground to the city centre. A day pass on the entire underground network costs just 7 pounds, so it's a cheap option to waiting and eating at the airport.
Somehow I made my way to the Museum of Natural History. It's a charmingly dusty place, at least in the sections that aren't very new and/or popular. And the building itself is a gem. Lots of nooks and crannies for living spiders to hide in between their spider-web design sessions. And lots of interesting tidbits of information to discover on small signs all over the place. For instance, how do crabs go about reproducing, when the naughty bits of the female crab are hidden under a robust shell? Well, it turns out that the male crab will closely follow the female, often for several weeks, doing everything it can in order to make the female start ousting her shell. He's more than happy to help her out of her old shell, and when he finally succeeds, he'll be quick and do his business before the new shell hardens! In my experience, this is a fairly accurate description of how many men has to work in order to get their chosen women out of their pants!
I'll be off to work on my jetlag now, but I'm sure I'll be back with more interesting details about life in Singapore soon. For now, all I know is that there are many women in Singapore hanging around my hotel, and they have very little in common with crabs, it appears. (They may very well HAVE the crabs, though!) It's a real struggle to make my way into the hotel without at least one of them latching on to me. Some genius created this site to let you calculate how many five-year-olds you probably could survive a fight with. I reckon they should make a similar test regarding Singaporean prostitutes.
Bye for now!
Well, I "have been to South America and Africa ever" since the very first time I went to South America, a long time ago. Still, I decided to answer "No", since I figured that would increase my chances of being allowed entrance to Singapore. I have no idea why they would ask that question anyway. Maybe no one from Singapore have ever been there themselves, so if anyone could please tell them what it's like there, and whether maybe the Africans and South Americans would be interested in cheap electronics and plastics, they'd be very interested to hear about it? Maybe.
Yesterday was spent in London. I had eight hours to kill between the plane from Oslo and the plane to Singapore, so I took the underground to the city centre. A day pass on the entire underground network costs just 7 pounds, so it's a cheap option to waiting and eating at the airport.
Somehow I made my way to the Museum of Natural History. It's a charmingly dusty place, at least in the sections that aren't very new and/or popular. And the building itself is a gem. Lots of nooks and crannies for living spiders to hide in between their spider-web design sessions. And lots of interesting tidbits of information to discover on small signs all over the place. For instance, how do crabs go about reproducing, when the naughty bits of the female crab are hidden under a robust shell? Well, it turns out that the male crab will closely follow the female, often for several weeks, doing everything it can in order to make the female start ousting her shell. He's more than happy to help her out of her old shell, and when he finally succeeds, he'll be quick and do his business before the new shell hardens! In my experience, this is a fairly accurate description of how many men has to work in order to get their chosen women out of their pants!
I'll be off to work on my jetlag now, but I'm sure I'll be back with more interesting details about life in Singapore soon. For now, all I know is that there are many women in Singapore hanging around my hotel, and they have very little in common with crabs, it appears. (They may very well HAVE the crabs, though!) It's a real struggle to make my way into the hotel without at least one of them latching on to me. Some genius created this site to let you calculate how many five-year-olds you probably could survive a fight with. I reckon they should make a similar test regarding Singaporean prostitutes.
Bye for now!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Koalas and such
Finally! I bought my plane ticket (Oslo - Singapore - Perth - Sydney - Oslo) and I got my visa to Australia. Now, if British Airways can just avoid bankruptcy for a few more weeks, I'll be happily traveling again. Hooray!
And it's a real trip, too. Ten weeks! I visited Australia briefly back in 1998, but that time I just stayed on the well-beaten backpacker trail. This time I hope to go slower and see a different kind of places, mainly in Western Australia and Tasmania. If you're a regular reader of this blog and you live somewhere interesting in Australia, this is your chance to let me sleep on your couch! #8D) I promise to behave and discuss only safe stuff like politics and religion, which I know you Ozzies couldn't care less about, while I'll specifically not say anything at all about more explosive matters, like sports and beers!
Here are some other rules I will live by in order to survive:
1. Never ever put my hand down any hole or opening whatsoever. Inside there will always be some fierce, lethally venomous creature with sharp, long teeth.
2. Never ever try to talk using Australian slang. Unless I feel like getting into a physical fight. I will only listen, not speak. Australians use weird words and expressions, and it's really easy to say something that will offend someone. But I look forward to being offended myself, in creative ways. "I wouldn't piss in your ear even if your brain was on fire!" Subtle, eh? Or "Your sense of humour is drier than a Pommie's (an Englishman's) towel!" Australians are more than happy to indicate that the English do not wash very often.
3. Never ever walk anywhere without bringing a good map. It can be days between each time I find someone to ask directions from. I'd be likely to soon end up in more trouble than a one-legged frog in a snake pit, as they say down-under.
So, this sounds promising, don't you think?
I reckon I will soon enough learn much more about this strange island/country/continent. Just keep reading this blog and I'll let you in on the secrets little by little. I'm particularly sure I'll discover fascinating details about Australian animals. They come in three categories: Venomous, strange and sheep. From among the many strange animals, today I'll tell you a few things about the koala. Or the koala bear, as the English say, because when they first saw this furry, arboreal marsupial, they just reckoned it had to be some kind of teddybear. They can't possibly have checked very carefully.
All I learned about koalas during my last visit to Australia, was that at least one of them did not at all enjoy having his back stroked tenderly, and it would signal this dislike by making sounds that I until then had only heard from freighter trains, and by slashing innocent bystanders bloody with its claws. That's all you need to know to understand that you should keep your distance from koalas. Nevertheless, here are some more facts about the physiology of koalas:
The male koala has a two-pronged penis! And that is not because it might come in handy to have a spare penis, but because the female koala has two vaginas, and female koalas are no less demanding than, say, Madonna. Food and sex is therefore all that is on a koala's mind, simply because there is not room for anything else. The brain of a koala constitutes only 0,2 percent of its body weight. This means that the brain of a typical, ten kilogram koala weighs in at only 20 grams! This ranks it somewhere between a squirrel and a cat, animals that of course are substantially smaller than a koala.
It also means that if we accept the estimate that the koala population on the planet right now is about 100 000 animals, there's only about two tons of koala brains left. The koalas may not be threatened by extinction anymore, but the outlook for any koala zombies isn't too good.
When a koala baby, a joey, is born, it is blind, has no ears and no fur. All it is capable of is to crawl into the pouch of its mother, where it finds a teat to entertain itself with for the next six months or so. During that time the joey develops eyes, ears and fur. Eventually it grows too large for the pouch.
The transition to life on the outside is a major one. Not only will the infant have to hold on for its life to its mother's back instead of being safely inside the pouch. There's no more milk to be had either. From now on the diet will be excrements from the mother! Or maybe it's not exactly excrements, but it sure comes from a section of the same factory. Somewhere inside the mother's caecum/appendix, pap, a strange substance full of bacteria is created, and as it leaves the mother's butt, it becomes food for the child. The young one must eat this stuff in order to acquire certain bacteria. You see, koalas eat eucalyptus leaves, but koalas can not themselves break down those leaves into energy. The bacterias do this job for them.
Appendicitis is not a welcome disorder among koalas, as you may imagine.
That will have to do as a foretaste of what incredible pieces of information that are to come this way. I don't know about you, but I am very much looking forward to this trip!
And it's a real trip, too. Ten weeks! I visited Australia briefly back in 1998, but that time I just stayed on the well-beaten backpacker trail. This time I hope to go slower and see a different kind of places, mainly in Western Australia and Tasmania. If you're a regular reader of this blog and you live somewhere interesting in Australia, this is your chance to let me sleep on your couch! #8D) I promise to behave and discuss only safe stuff like politics and religion, which I know you Ozzies couldn't care less about, while I'll specifically not say anything at all about more explosive matters, like sports and beers!Here are some other rules I will live by in order to survive:
1. Never ever put my hand down any hole or opening whatsoever. Inside there will always be some fierce, lethally venomous creature with sharp, long teeth.
2. Never ever try to talk using Australian slang. Unless I feel like getting into a physical fight. I will only listen, not speak. Australians use weird words and expressions, and it's really easy to say something that will offend someone. But I look forward to being offended myself, in creative ways. "I wouldn't piss in your ear even if your brain was on fire!" Subtle, eh? Or "Your sense of humour is drier than a Pommie's (an Englishman's) towel!" Australians are more than happy to indicate that the English do not wash very often.
3. Never ever walk anywhere without bringing a good map. It can be days between each time I find someone to ask directions from. I'd be likely to soon end up in more trouble than a one-legged frog in a snake pit, as they say down-under.
So, this sounds promising, don't you think?
I reckon I will soon enough learn much more about this strange island/country/continent. Just keep reading this blog and I'll let you in on the secrets little by little. I'm particularly sure I'll discover fascinating details about Australian animals. They come in three categories: Venomous, strange and sheep. From among the many strange animals, today I'll tell you a few things about the koala. Or the koala bear, as the English say, because when they first saw this furry, arboreal marsupial, they just reckoned it had to be some kind of teddybear. They can't possibly have checked very carefully.
All I learned about koalas during my last visit to Australia, was that at least one of them did not at all enjoy having his back stroked tenderly, and it would signal this dislike by making sounds that I until then had only heard from freighter trains, and by slashing innocent bystanders bloody with its claws. That's all you need to know to understand that you should keep your distance from koalas. Nevertheless, here are some more facts about the physiology of koalas:
The male koala has a two-pronged penis! And that is not because it might come in handy to have a spare penis, but because the female koala has two vaginas, and female koalas are no less demanding than, say, Madonna. Food and sex is therefore all that is on a koala's mind, simply because there is not room for anything else. The brain of a koala constitutes only 0,2 percent of its body weight. This means that the brain of a typical, ten kilogram koala weighs in at only 20 grams! This ranks it somewhere between a squirrel and a cat, animals that of course are substantially smaller than a koala.
It also means that if we accept the estimate that the koala population on the planet right now is about 100 000 animals, there's only about two tons of koala brains left. The koalas may not be threatened by extinction anymore, but the outlook for any koala zombies isn't too good.
When a koala baby, a joey, is born, it is blind, has no ears and no fur. All it is capable of is to crawl into the pouch of its mother, where it finds a teat to entertain itself with for the next six months or so. During that time the joey develops eyes, ears and fur. Eventually it grows too large for the pouch.
The transition to life on the outside is a major one. Not only will the infant have to hold on for its life to its mother's back instead of being safely inside the pouch. There's no more milk to be had either. From now on the diet will be excrements from the mother! Or maybe it's not exactly excrements, but it sure comes from a section of the same factory. Somewhere inside the mother's caecum/appendix, pap, a strange substance full of bacteria is created, and as it leaves the mother's butt, it becomes food for the child. The young one must eat this stuff in order to acquire certain bacteria. You see, koalas eat eucalyptus leaves, but koalas can not themselves break down those leaves into energy. The bacterias do this job for them.
Appendicitis is not a welcome disorder among koalas, as you may imagine.
That will have to do as a foretaste of what incredible pieces of information that are to come this way. I don't know about you, but I am very much looking forward to this trip!
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