australiaThe coach that picked me up early in the morning was sleek, shiny, and clearly featured the latest in bussing technology. It was built for travel in comfort and in style. AAT Kings didn’t mess around, and I suppose a trip costing me the exorbitant rate of US$110 had better show me exactly where the money went.
Our first stop was the Australian Reptile Park, home to dozens of different types of crocodiles, lizards, skinks, etc., as well as a large number of horrendously huge spiders. Now, I am not frightened of spiders per se; it’s more of a mutual dislike, and, well, spiders that large should definitely not be allowed, and even more definitely not be allowed to roam freely around a country in which I was spending a week of my time. That’s all, honest.
Anyways, it was when we arrived at the kangaroo and koala sections of the park that I realized that I was having a miserable time, though it was a few minutes more until I figured out why. Everything was so controlled, so planned to the most minute detail, so…touristy, and I could not handle it, in addition to the swarms of people devouring every last image with their cameras. We grabbed snacks from the nearest café, and munched among kangaroos and echidnas. I sighed dramatically for the nth time; as close as we were to nature, it was all so fake, so routinized, so constructed that to me, the reality of nature was as remote as the moon. Where was the spontaneity? Where was a sense of danger, perhaps in the form of a waiver that I had to sign, releasing AAT Kings from any liability from crocodile bites or the sinister machinations of power-hungry dolphins?
We boarded the bus, bound for Port Stephens, and I shook myself out of my irritable mood. The best was yet to come for certain. 99% chance of finding dolphins, the pamphlet boasted. As we sailed off into the bay following a small pod of dolphins, I found as quiet aplace on the boat (read: small cruise ship) as I could, and closed my eyes as the sun and wind played over my face. This was much better. Much more to my liking.
Yells suddenly pierced my constructed solitude. I looked around, and…
Wait…what?
There’s nothing--!
This was getting ridiculous. Those horrible dolphins were disappearing just before every shot. They were there, honest! Finally, after a couple of dozen very nice pictures of water, I finally caught something resembling a dolphin:
If you look just to the left of the center, you can sorta kinda make out the dorsal part of a dolphin. Let’s just hope it wasn’t a funny-shaped log or something.
In the end, the trip went exactly as expected. We saw lots of Australian wildlife, just as expected. We went out and the dolphins hung out with the boat-cruise-ship-thing, just as expected. The staff and crew were very polite, conversational, and professional, which any person could rightfully expect. We even arrived back in Sydney right at 7pm, fully in line with what they advertised.
What was unexpected, though, was my contempt for such things.
New Zealand had turned me into an adventure junkie, and the thought of paying money (and so much!) for something that didn’t get my adrenaline pumping or test my physical limits was utterly ludicrous. Returning to Sydney, I walked around the city without plan or purpose, and liked it that way. On some level, after so much time not knowing what sort of crazy trip the weekend would bring, or how this half-baked scheme would play out, or even where I was going to be in an hour, I needed my daily dose of the unknown, of schedules made, revised, then tossed aside completely. Watching twilight gather from some nameless bridge while eating dinner, I could only hope that my next day trip would be more to my liking. But Jon Jackson, Adventure Junkie…I kinda liked the ring of that…
