Addendum

Shortly before getting on the train to the airport, I passed by this internet cafe and felt a final message may be in order (especially since this thing just robbed me of a buck). The congress yesterday was fantastic. The opening ceremony in the great lecture hall featured interpretive dancing by an aboriginal couple, a serenade by a charming children's choir, a greeting from an aboriginal elder, and greetings from archival leaders from all over the world. I am embarassed to admit that the final portion of the ceremony called the children back on stage where they performed a beautiful rendition of "Waltzing Matilda" that made my eyes water. (Fortunately it was dark in the auditorium.) Then there were the speeches from the Archivist of the United States, the head of the National Archives of Australia, and other dignitaries. I even sat in on a speech from a Chinese archivist where they passed out earphones and transmitters so you could hear a woman translating his words. The lunch was a real gourmet affair, but it was served in the exhibition all where the seating was inadequate. I talked to a lot of the vendors and met a lot of nice people, but my fever came back and I really had to rest the time between lunch and my speech at 4:00 pm. Once I got on the podium, my discomfort evaporated, and the audience reaction was delightful. I can say without boasting it was one of the better performances I have ever had at a professional conference, and a few in the audience crowded around me afterwards to chat. I really enjoyed it, but I was drained beyond belief before getting on the train to the hotel. Now I feel somewhat better, facing this ordeal of travel with a modicum of confidence. Goodbye Australia, you were good to me again.

Too Much Fun

I think the last three weeks has finally caught up with me, and on this last day in Oz I have to work. I am currently at the Brisbane Convention Center, a cavernous building on the city's south side that is large enough to host several conventions at once. After coming down with a cold, and feeling really dragged out yesterday, I nevertheless set out from my hotel to see where the convention center was located and to have a last stroll around the city. By the time I got back to the hotel I was beat, and I spent the entire evening in my room watching television and feeling horrible. This morning I was somewhat better, but I knew I could not walk here so I took the train. So far the meeting has been pretty interesting, with over a thousand archivists in attendance from all over the world. My speech is scheduled for four o'clock this afternoon, and although I feel somewhat feverish I think I will be able to do it. It's just a matter of trying to take it easy and staying cool until the hour of trial since I cannot return to the hotel. I would suggest a meat pie for lunch, but somehow I think I have had all the Four 'N Twenties I can eat for one trip, and probably guzzled enough Coopers to last me for months. Today its just juice and something light, and hopefully I can give a good performance. Tomorrow I go to the airport with bags of swag from the convention, and the whole vacation, and I hope I can carry it all.

Super Saturday Football

I am tapping out this dispatch in the Brisbane train station where I linger for a while awaiting the time when I can check into my hotel. I arrived here after an all night journey in a private railway berth which I made extra cozy by using my little portable MP3 player and stereo booster. While watching the countryside roll by, I was listening to the Beatles and the Pure Prairie League and reflecting on my time in the country thus far. The last day with Ronald was dominated by sport. We lounged around the house in the morning (or at least I lounged; Ronald had to clean up the house before Jane got home) and then in the afternoon we made our way down to the Warringah Rats oval for a live rugby game between the Rats and the Penrith Emus. It was a rather intimate affair, for the day was blustery and the crowd light. We managed to get good seats as a result, under the stadium cover and blocked from the wind. The game turned out to be a lopsided affair, with the Emus only scoring once close to the end of the game, while the Rats piled up try after try. As soon as that game was done, we went back to Ronald's house where we tuned into the NRL games and cooked a nice batch of pork ribs for dinner. The games did not conclude until about nine fifteen, and we were both ready to sleep soundly after that. The next morning we did more lounging before Ronald drove me to the Central Railway station in Sydney to catch my train here. Now I will need to get my act together for the conference tomorrow, going over my speech and planning how I will get all this stuff back on the airplane for the trip home.

Rock of Ages

Writer Bill Bryson observed that Australia is a country of clubs, and it is true that every city has a selection of RSL or social clubs offering entertainment, food, and drink to its members. Yesterday I had the great experience of attending such a club with one of its newest members (Ronald) and I can only say it was positive to the nth degree. Before I explain myself, I must recap events from earlier in the day. I wanted to see Wyatt one more time before I left the country and arranged to meet him in the city for lunch. To do so, I took the bus from Narrabeen down to the Manly Wharf to catch the ferry, not because it is the fastest way but because it was such a beautiful morning that I wanted to log in one more cruise across this beautiful harbor. Before the ferry left, I noticed a bunch of people sitting around the Manly Anzac monument and realized they were having a memorial service, complete with veterans and military cadets in uniform. It was Vietnam Memorial Day, and it was with mixed feelings that I paused to pay my respects to a country that shared that hopeless military adventure with us. Once in the city, I got a text from Wyatt saying he could meet me at the Town Hall rail station, so I hied myself there in short order. It was familar ground since it is the stop one would take if going to the Queen Victoria Building, Chinatown, or Paddy's Market. Once Wyatt joined me, I suggested we stroll down towards the Central railway station because I recalled seeing an interesting store in that area that I wanted to show him. The weather turned ugly then, with howling winds and leaden skies that threatened rain, which made me decide then and there to take a bus all the way back to Narrabeen rather than return by ferry. We arrived at the store, which was a military surplus/reenactors supply house with all kinds of uniforms and edged weapons from the Crusades to the present, and we had a nice conversation with the proprietor who showed us the pride of his offerings, an 1861 Colt rifle musket, manufactured for Civil War use but apparently never fired. It was in mint condition, with the original burnished finish and all markings as clear as the day they were stamped on the metal and wood. I have never seen an original musket in such pristine condition. We then made our way to a "hotel" where we had a nice pub lunch of chicken schnitzel and prawns. Wyatt was great company, and we said our goodbyes with true affection on both sides. I made my way back to Narrabeen on an express bus with limited stops, and I got a pizza at Dominos for our dinner. Then, Ronald and I went to the Beach Club at Colloroy for a night of "clubbing." It is hard to explain the concept of an Australian club to Americans because such institutions are not found in our cities, a place where people gather to socialize as much as to drink, to enjoy discounts on food, and to just generally have a good time. Tonight the entertainment was the Steve Edmonds band, a trio that featured a guitar player of unusual skill who specialized in the "oldies," (in other words, music that Ronald and I grew up with). This guy played Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, ZZ tops, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Bachman Turner Overdrive, Deep Purple, and so many more, all presented with enough variations to put the band's own stamp on these classics. While we had our beers and enjoyed the music, I could not help noticing the diversity of the people enjoying the show. It was not a large crowd for a Friday night, but there were young folks, old folks, and everyone in between just having a ball. There was a large group of people who had some Downs Syndrome young adults with them and not only did it seem entirely appropriate for them to be in this venue, they also danced with wild abandon to the classic rock and roll belting out from the band. The whole experience was not exactly one of community per se, but certainly felt like one of belonging, and I was happy to be a part of it. Since Ronald and I had taken a cab to the club (driven by a very chatting Oz lady who discounted her fare), we were able to have all the beer and cider we felt like drinking. By chance, when we left the club the bus home arrived to pick us up within three minutes, so it was the perfect ending to an evening of classic rock, and Australian culture.

Garden of Earthly Delights

On Wednesday we decided to ride the bus all the way into the Central Railway station in Sydney so we could have lunch at Chinatown and waste an hour or two wandering through Paddy's Market. The latter location is a popular shopping destination for anyone looking for cheap Asian made electronics, tee shirts, and "authentic" Australian souvenirs. It was not very crowded; many of the stalls were closed, but we still got an overdose of material goods that dazzled the eye and tempted the wallet. Ronald and I both got some fruit before frittering away a few dollars on lesser items, and then made our way to the dark passageway of Chinatown. I doubt one could fit another restaurant in between the dozens that line this particular walkway in Sydney, and we made our choice based on Ron's memory and navigation skills. The beef noodles were more than I could eat, and were served with soup and tea, all for a rather low price. The couple sitting next to us spent considerably more, and it was amazing to see how much those Asian octogenarians could put away. One nice thing about this trip was our ability to have a few drinks, since the ride home was taken care of by the bus driver. After an evening of the "Amazing Race, Australia" where we saw the good guy team win, we decided on Thursday to head back to the Blue Mountains. This was a considerable drive, but we made our way to the Mount Tomah Botanical Gardens, a really beautiful patch of land high on the slopes overlooking the land to the east. It was stunning, especially considering the fact that the plants are in the dead of winter, yet many are still blooming. There were plants from all over the world, and a great little creek and waterfall system flowing through the heart of it. My favorite part was our journey through the "Jungle," a deep green cavern of trees and vines that was cool and dark even at midday. The forest seemed almost like a scene from the beginning of the world, and it was a great little walk.

After lunch, we pushed on to the "town" of Bell (which is actually an intersection with an abandoned gas station) because it seemed to be the heart of the area designated as the sister city of Flagstaff, Arizona. However, we came to realize that the sister city is actually the Blue Mountains and all the communities within its precincts, which includes Katoomba, Leora, and a host of other mountain hamlets. As such, this is the second time I have paid respects to the sibling metropolis of my undergraduate location, the first being the nights Jayne and I stayed in Katoomba in February 2011.

Bases Covered

What a great couple of days it has been. Ronald has been an outstanding host and has laid a table that would win him big points on the popular television show, "Come Dine With Me." He has also performed above and beyond the call of duty as my driver for a variety of local attractions. On Monday morning we did a few errands (including picking up a bottle of absinthe and a box of sugar cubes) and then made our way to the West Head section of the local national park. This lovely area is not far from Ronald's house, but it is like a drive back into the bush with great vistas and a lot of wildlife. We saw a pretty cute little wallaby along side the road and birds aplenty before stopping at the lookout that is opposite the Barrenjoey Lighthouse which I chose for the first of today's pictures. After we returned home, I took a hand at cooking and prepared some edible beef curry. Yesterday our journey took a more ambitious turn with an extended spiritual sojourn to Wollongong and the giant Buddhist Temple. Before we even left the house we listened to the Hari Krishna chanting on Ron's battery operated Hindu alarm clock so we could be sure to hit more than one religion in a day. The drive down to the "Gong" was very lengthy and required us to go entirely across the Sydney CBD, but once we were on the other side Ronald chose to steer the car into the Royal National Park. It was a real pleasure to see the place again, and to travel the road that goes across the top of the reserve before it heads south to Wollongong. The place really is beautiful, with thousands of acres of green bushland and broken terrain. Once we came out on the other side, we followed a coastal road where the highway is actually on stilts set out from the sheer rock cliff that faces the sea. When we arrived at the temple I was unprepared for how large the complex was and how beautiful. It looked like a miniature Forbidden City, complete with a large courtyard and adjacent pagoda. The actual worship areas were unavailable for photography, of course, but I did managed to sneak a shot of an incredible carving from wood that defies one's definition of the possible in art. Hundreds of little, detailed characters interwoven into a crowed tableau that one could have stared at for hours and not seen it all, and carved from a single block of wood about four feet long. We made our way to the dining hall where a twelve dollar vegetarian lunch was offered, and I had a hard time reconciling my reaction to the bounty heaped upon my plate with the concept of "vegetarian cuisine." There was a califlower carrot sauce mix with slices of fried tofu that tasted exactly like chicken breast; a mixture of celery and brown sauce that included chunks that tasted very much like beef, some fried bok choy, and the standard bowl of rice. It was almost more than we could eat! After we left the temple we retraced our steps back to the northern beaches of Sydney, but we did not return to the house until Ronald made one more spiritual detour. The Ba'hai Temple that rests upon a mountain a few miles from Narrabeen was our target, and we went from two men with no clue about the faith to informed pilgrims in the space of eighteen minutes, thanks to an orientation film the staff showed us. The temple itself was not anything near as elaborate as the Gong complex, but it is still an interesting building of nine entrances under a lofty dome. We paid our respects and returned home where we enjoyed a delicious meal from a flattened "chook" (chicken) that we had purchased at the Devitt Meat Market. After a couple of glasses of absinthe, I fell into a peaceful slumber and woke this morning satisfied that we had covered three significant religious movements in one day.

Revisionist History

On Saturday night I met Wyatt and Shelly for an evening of revisionist history. They arrived in Manly in the early afternoon, having driven up from their home in Engadine, and we had some coffee on the Corso before starting out. I was suprised they wanted to go all the way into Chatswood, a section of north Sydney, but they had their reasons as I soon discovered. Within the shopping mall they took me was a sushi restaurant where all the little dishes parade around in front of the counter-seated diners along a conveyor belt, and there was an unbelievable number of strange and truly beautiful treats to enjoy. Being an old fart, I am squeamish about eating raw fish, but there was plenty of cooked crab and chicken rolls to sample, along with a really tasty pair of pork "potstickers" that were delicious. I also ate my first soft shelled crab, which was like a toothsome fried insect that made me yearn for more. After this repast we made our way to the movie theater where we were educated on the real course of American history by watching "Abraham Lincoln; Vampire Hunter." I cannot describe this film adequately, and must simply say it was the most pretentious, silly thing I ever recall watching. Honest Abe as an axe-wielding Nija taking on the dark forces which had aligned with Jefferson Davis made me giggle uncontrollably in the dark theater, perhaps to the annoyance of some Aussies around us who took the whole thing far too seriously. On Sunday morning Ronald came and picked me up at the bungalow, driving me up to his comfortable home in Narrabeen. We spent the afternoon getting provision (rum, beer, and a little food) and then settled in for a double rugby game broadcast on the television. Poor Ronald had to watch his Broncos get stomped again, but it was old news for me having seen them get a terrible thrashing before when I went to the game in Brisbane. In all, a most enjoyable day.

Blow, Ye Winds . . .Rage! Blow!

Yesterday a storm front blew through Sydney that demonstrated just how violent the conditions can get in the winter time here. Ronald and Jane had invited me up to their house to wait for them while they were out visiting Jane's mum, and while I was waiting for the Narrabeen bus a huge wind, later clocked at exceeding sixty miles an hour, blew across the harbor and forced me to grab a lamp post or be knocked down. There followed a sheet of rain and sleet that drove sideways into the Corso and tore branches from trees. I was glad enough to get on the bus after that, and by the time it arrived at Narrabeen the violence had subsided a bit. Prior to this time, the biggest hazard I had been aware of in Narrabeen was angry magpies who have been making headlines in the local paper for dive bombing people near the Woolworth shopping center, but I think the wind kept them in their nests this day. I walked from the bus stop to Ronald's house where I was able to comfortably settle myself in and watch "The Daily Show" while waiting for their return. That evening we went to Barb and Cindy's house for a great meal of corned beef and cabbage, and the weather outside continued as blustery as any St. Patrick's day in Bozeman. Today is more of the same, and I do not care to take the ferry into the city to meet Wyatt again. I am investigating the bus schedule to accomplish the same goal by land. Today's picture demonstrates a bad lesson: that some vandalism can be quite funny.

Ode To Joy

Yesterday was a very special day. Although I spent most of the morning and early afternoon just hanging around my living quarters, I rode the ferry to the city to meet Wyatt at a bookstore adjacent to the Queen Victoria Building. It was a nice venue and it allowed us once again to browse titles and recommend works we had read to one another. Then we went to two pubs in rapid succession. The first a typical downtown watering hole with expensive beers and charging even for the club soda my companion drank. The second was a beautiful dark wood paneled lounge that looked very much like a nineteenth century gentlemen's club, complete with classical paintings on the wall and waiters dressed in livery. That place was only a block from Circular Quay, so when Shelly met us we made our way towards the Opera House for a quick meal before the show. No, they did not have any pies, so I had to have a "Federation Burger," likely named for the unification of this great country. This was my first visit inside the Opera House, and it is truly magnificent. High ceilings with strange modernistic chandeliers, and a raised stage in the center. In due time the orchestra came out and the maestro, Richard Tognettiao, really surprised me when he pulled out a violin and took the part of the lead violinist as well as directing. He would pause every once in a while to point with his bow, but otherwise let the orchestra through three short pieces by simply moving the neck of that violin around. After a brief intermission the concert continued with Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. What rapture! We were sitting in the second row and when the soloist singers came out they stepped around the orchestra and sang right in front of us. It sent chills up my spine, and the chorus blasting out the "Ode To Joy" was absolutely marvelous. I have never heard the Ninth live anywhere, and even lacking a comparison I can assure you that this was likely one of the best renditions anywhere. After it was over I clapped so long that my arms ached, and everyone in the audience was hooting and yelling. They don't allow photographs inside the Opera House but I snuck a couple of shots with the camera discretely in my lap. The photograph today is of Shelly, who sat on one side of me while Wyatt sat on the other. You can see some of the vastness of the concert hall beyond Shelly's shoulder. What a great evening!

A Lazy Day

I spent most of yesterday in Tasmania, but only in my mind. My feet needed a rest from excessive hiking and I decided to spend the day sitting on the beach and reading a book that Jane had recommended from the Mosman library. The Roving Party is a pretty graphic tale about the purge of natives from the island of Tasmania during the late 1820s and is a study in brutality. The central chracters are a rum soaked settler named Batman and a white raised aboriginal named Black Bill. They make an unlikely pair of allies as they beat through the bush with a posse of temporarily liberated prisoners searching for natives to kill or capture. The writer, Rohan Wilson, has a style that reminds me of Coramc McCarthy, and comparisons between this book and Blood Meridian are unavoidable. I will finish the book today, and I can only hope for some sort of redemption for the sorry lot that makes up this posse. I thoroughly enjoyed my day of reading, especially since I was able to commence by having a great Skype conversation with Jayne back home. I even got to see our lovable terrier, Willie, who gazed upon my image on the big screen with great interest. Today I will make my way into the city again where, in the evening, I will join Wyatt, Luke, and Shelly for a concert in the Opera House. Beethoven's ninth symphony will be performed, and I am looking forward to it. The weather has taken a turn for the cooler today, with the first overcast skies I have seen since my arrival. I am glad I brought a coat.

Shmoo do you Think you Are?

First off, let me explain my title. Al Capp may not be remembered by many, but in his time his "Lil Abner" was one of the most popular comic strips in America, and it even inspired a successful movie musical. Aside from Daisy Mae and a host of other characters, Capp introduced these strange creatures called "Shmoos" that were little blobs who only existed to please humans. They were loveable little blobs with narrow heads and very wide behinds, and tasted delicious depending on your mood. But the cartoonist's legacy is not as upbeat as his cheerful Shmoos. In his later days, Al Capp became a rather nasty conservative and I can recall as a young teen listening to radio commentaries he made that would be comparable to Rush Limbaugh's irritating style today. Now to bring relevance to this introduction it is time to relate the day's events. Wyatt called me yesterday morning and told me he would arrive on the 10:30 ferry, so I met him for a very pleasant day. We walked far out onto the North Head where I briefly dipped my feet into the Pacific at Shelly Beach. We also climbed the walkway for a view further out, but I could tell that temperatures pleasant to me were freezing to my companion, so we turned our steps back to the Corso. The Ivanhoe hotel was the venue of a very nice lunch, and I had some of the best roast lamb I have ever tasted, chased with a Cooper's of course. We then made our way back to my little headquarters, and I suggested that we hike up to the statute of a kangaroo I knew was on the opposite hillside. If Wyatt was skeptical he kept it to himself, and soon we were crashing along a wooded footpath in a very steep climb. At the top we found the statue, but time and the elements had reduced it to a blob with arms, reminding me very much of a "shmoo" as I snapped Wyatt's portrait at the base. In the evening we took the ferry into Circular Quay where we met Wyatt's fiance, Shelly, for dinner at a very nice place. I was glad enough to get home after that because my feet were killing me from all the hiking I have done in the last week. Today I believe I will simply sit on the beach and read.

Horror in the Harbor

This country loves its whales, so when a baby humpback calf was hit this morning by a Manly ferry boat, it was all over the news. The calf sustained a pretty nasty wound, and the propeller of the Colloroy was damaged in the collision. I believe I caught the next ferry out after it happened, and I am glad I was not early yesterday. The story provides a dramatic diversion from the Olympic games coverage. The games are discussed and dissected at great length these days, and as many people who are decrying Australia's lack of gold as there are people who are telling them to quit whinging (I spelled that the Aussie way). Neither side will likely stop for a while. Wyatt is coming to Manly today and we will likely stroll down to the far beach for a chat and lunch. I am looking forward to seeing my new friend, the son of an old one.

Lunch with Richard

Today I took a chance and made my way to the University of Sydney for a "cold call" on Professor Richard White, a fellow who has done research on national parks around the world and who graciously allowed me to piggyback on his work when I published my own comparison study of Yellowstone and Royal national parks a year or so back. Finding the campus was not difficult, but negotiating it was a challenge since it is so big. I finally figured out that Richard's office was in the oldest part of campus (fitting for a historian) and when I knocked on his door he was in! He greeted me as an old friend and insisted we go down to the nearby coffee bar for a chat. We were joined by his graduate student, Justine, who had actually read my article, so it was a real treat. We talked about the comparison of Australian and American academic life, and some observations we had both come to regarding people's perceptions of national parks. Richard liked my thesis that one must, according to Yellowstone's keepers, have the proper attitude to avoid contempt and he was particularly interested in my observations on American Civil War reenactors who have a similar attitude about those who visit battlefield parks. In all it was a great day, and I enjoyed my ferry ride to the city and back.

The Midnight Special

Well, I finally figured out the picture debacle on this blog; our camera is set to the highest resolution for photos, making each file too big to upload. I set it back for my most recent pictures and hereby attach one of a most interesting church. I can see the reverend explaining to his flock how collection plate takings have been too light and it is time to try a new revenue model.... I took the night train from Casino to Sydney and had a very nice cabin all to myself. There was the most funky toilet system for the sleeper berths. After using the bowl it folded up into the wall! I have never seen such a thing, but when in Rome one must evacuate as the Romans do. I did not truly sleep on the train but rather snoozed in little cat naps that were adequate overall. At six fifteen am I got off the train at the Hornsby station where Ronald picked me up and took me to his house. We had a very nice morning, even though Jane had to get ready for work, and when check in time arrived I was driven here to the Manly Bungalow where I was given a very nice, ultra clean room. (My only complaint is a lingering odor of fabric softener, but I will leave my windows open today. I went to Coles and laid in some supplies, and Ronald gave me four chicken sausages from the Devitt Meat Market, so this morning I was able to have coffee, sausage, and Vegemite toast with coffee, all prepared here in my comfortable headquarters.

Casino Royale

I came to this little country town this morning on a bus and will wait for the overnight train to Sydney here. The station is about a mile from the commercial center, but I have plenty of time so I hiked in to see what I could see. Among other things, I found the public library, where I am presently composing these lines. I also found the tourist information office that just about every town in Australia boasts. The very helpful lady told me about a nature preserve that I can walk out to, about another mile and a half, so that is how I will spend the day. These little agricultural towns in the interior are so different from the coastal communities. For example, today is the first time I have ever seen a gun store in Australia, a dealer in rifles, shotguns, and ammunition right on the main street. I imagine one must have a ream of applications and paperwork to patronize this fellow, but it was interesting to see him open for business on the main street, right in between a dollar store and a bakery. The local newspaper has lots of stories on cattle, horses, and kids playing just about any sport you can think of. There is also a great deal of grousing about local elections, which is the same in any local paper I have seen here. This little library is very nice, a quiet cool place to rest and get out a dispatch. I may come back here after the nature preserve; it is the most appropriate place in town for me to hang out, other than the history museum.

East of Everything

Today's title comes from a television drama that was playing in Australia when we first visited in 2008. It was a show that featured Byron Bay as its setting and was the first time I had ever heard of this place. Since that time I have read guide books about this town and done some internet snooping, and I have come to the conclusion they are all accurate. This place is a very special town where people know they have a good thing going and worry constantly about preserving it that way. After taking my hike around the entire cape today, I got a pretty dramatic view of what is at stake here. I started my hike about nine thirty direct from this lodge and proceeded to the Lighthouse trail by passing through a residential neighborhood. It was a long walk in and of itself, so I'm especially glad I was able to make the entire loop beyond. I made it to the Lighthouse where there is a little outdoor coffee cafe at the base. There I was almost robbed of a cookie by a swift flying magpie, much to the amusement of an old German guy who was sitting a few feet away. We ended up having a very nice chat as a result. When you get past the lighthouse there is a bend in the walkway that announces you are at the easternmost point of the Australian continent, but when you look down there is another footpath a few hundred feet below that seems to jut even further out to sea. I walked out to the very end and got a view of unspoiled coastline as far as I could see to the north and south. I even had the privledge of seeing two whales come to the surface in the sea beyond. Perhaps the outcrop the footpath is on points more to the northeast, making the other sign literally true, but when you stand here you really are at the end, if not the easternmost, point of the continent. East of everything.

The Grasshoppers Bus to Nimbin

I went to Nimbin today and had more fun than the law should allow, but I was hardly alone. This charming little mountain town has been on the front lines of civil disobedience for decades, and yet have remained largely "uncommercial." Truly one of the most unique communities I have ever seen, the population was all about the lifestyle, regardless of age. Our tour guy was Ivan, a very entertaining South African who had been in Oz about thirty years. He gave some very valuable advice/warnings to everyone once we arrived, and I believe he was heeded. The tour also stopped at a pretty nice pub in the morning which served me my second best cup of coffee I have had on the trip. The best cup of coffee I have had on trip was had but an hour later at the cafe within the town's museum. Instead of featuring static displays, the museum is actually a work of art in progress within the walls of an old storefront/house . Each room was a combination of sculpture, mural, decoupage, and just about any other art form you could imagine, most of which was directed at the continued resistance of unjust laws. I was overwhelmed with it's complexity and complemented the curator, who I was later informed was the unofficial mayor of this burg. We stopped for a great barbeque at a reservoir that serves and the main water supply of Byron Bay. After that meal we headed to a waterfall and pool that would have been very inviting on a hot day. As it was, the weather was perfect, with bright sunshine and temperatures I would estimate in the upper seventies. The driver got us back to the lodge where I now await the shuttle bus into town. I feel like eating again.

Esoteric Information

I spent most of yesterday wandering around this funny little town. The place has the typical sidewalk bistros and cafes, intermingled with tarot card readers and incense shops. Byron is filled with all manner of countercultural types, and dreadlocks are sported on many a resident. I found the Woolies right away, and scouted two of the best local pie shops, of course. The beach is gorgeous, with nary a high rise building in site which is a pleasant change from the mess I went though yesterday. I saw the cape with the lighthouse where I will hike tomorrow in the distance, and there was a guy hang gliding over the scene like a giant bird. I returned to my lodgings to eat one of my pies in the evening and watched a little TV with some of the kids here. Amazingly, the Olympics were NOT on, and instead they were watching a pretty funny episode of Family Guy featuring the voice of Rush Limbaugh which, watching from an Australian perspective, was hysterical. It got dark pretty early, so when I caught the bus back into town to see how Byron does in the evening it was night. I immediately went to the Friendly Railway Tavern where, to my delight, they had scheduled a Trivia Night. My intention was just to observe, but a couple who observed my glasses and advanced age decided I might be of some use to their team and asked me to join them. They were delightful, and were also joined by another couple who treated me as if they had known me all my life. The theme of the first two rounds of questions was mostly literary, but I could only help on two questions since a lot of the challenges involved Aussie authors. The first was a true or false; Byron Bay is named after the poet. I knew that one and insisted it was not. We got that one correct, but the next one was a historical question that threw all of my teammates into a tailspin. "What other important event happened on Australia Day aside from the raising of the flag at Botany Bay in 1788?" I knew this one and told my mates it was the Rum Rebellion, wherein Governor William Bligh was forcibly deposed by the rebellious New South Wales corps. The couples looked at me as if I was daft, a strange mixture of disbelief and desperate hope that I could be right. As it turned out, we were one of the only teams to get that question right, and I owe it all to my obsessive reading of the early history of this beautiful, fantastic country.