"Study" Break, pt. I

After a scant four weeks of school, the Uni thinks that we deserve a break. One of my professors felt it was a bit early, but I was none too ready to agree with him. Another of my professors thought that Friday during the break was a great time to have an assignment due. The third felt that the day we returned from break was an appropriate due date for a paper. Now, I knew when I left that this would be a working vacation, but I didn't think there would be so much emphasis on the working side of the equation.

I knew I should spend at least a part of the break working on these assignments, but I threw caution to the wind when I left on Sunday, figuring that I could get everything done when I got back. (Thus far, I've been proven at least half right - I got the assignment due Friday turned in on time, but I haven't started the paper for Monday yet.)

We left in the morning for Albany, which is on the Southwest shore of this great big island-continent. We drove down the rather uncreatively named Albany Highway, which turned out to be the same road I took to Denmark with CIEE. On that trip, though, we left in a rainstorm during pre-dawn darkness. I slept through almost the entire drive. So, this was like driving down the road for the first time.

Outside Perth, the landscape turns to a strange forest. The trees seem like they're straight out of Scooby-Doo. These eucalypts create a very different atmosphere than do the pine trees of the Rockies. I imagine the lack of major contours in the landscape lends to this difference as well. As we came out of the forest, we found ourselves in rural Australia, looking at its main denizens - sheep. Lots and lots and lots of sheep.

We pulled into Albany after about six or seven hours on the road. The sun was still up, but not for long. So, we got beds at the backpackers, had a cup of coffee, and decided to go find ourselves a place for dinner. The plan was flawed, though, because it was Sunday. This entire country closes early. If, by 5 p.m. you haven't bought your wares, you better be able to make it through to the next day. If it's Saturday, you better be able to last until Monday because almost nothing is open on Sundays. Even in the big city of Perth it can be tough to find places open 7 days, so I'm not really sure what we expected.

Fortunately, we found a couple places. We had Chinese for dinner. It was unremarkable, except for the fact that Sesame Chicken was not to be found on the menu and our vegetable rolls were no bigger than my pinkie finger. From dinner, we proceeded to a spot that looked more satisfying: Tangle Head, the local brew-pub. The beer was cold, the place was comfortable, the people were nice, and they even played the blues on the speakers. It turned out to be quite a success, Sunday notwithstanding.

Albany is on the shore of the Southern Ocean. Our CIEE liaison, Paul, tells me that they don't teach Americans about this ocean. For those (like myself) who were never taught, the Southern Ocean is the body of water between Australia and Antarctica. I learned that it exists the cold way: by swimming in it.

Lately, I've tried to decide whether I should be disappointed that my education overlooked an entire ocean. I've come to this conclusion: While it is sad that I was never told of the existence of an ocean, I can find America on a map and have never said:
"I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, ummm, some people out there in our nation don’t have maps ... our education over here in the US should help the US, uh, should help South Africa, it should help the Iraq and the Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future, for us."
We'll call it a wash.

The next morning, at the suggestion of our barmaid, we checked out a few natural features before we moved along the road. Coastline is always a fun experience for me, so seeing coastline that excites people who live on the coast is a special treat. In this case, we were looking at The Gap and Natural Bridge. Both are named so that one can imagine what they are. Just picture the ocean coming into the Gap and under Natural Bridge. Presto! One effortless description. (Natural Bridge, while it was the wrong color and surrounded by more water than one would normally see in the desert, reminded me of Arches National Park.)

There were signs in the area warning us to mind the edges of the cliffs. Apparently, between sudden gusts of winds and freak waves, they've lost a few tourists at the Gap. The area is in an Australian National Park, but I get the feeling this spot is prime for corporate sponsorship. I can already picture the revamped warning signs: "Don't Fall into the Gap Here! Fall into the Gap at Your Local Mall!" If I could have found a comment card, I would have suggested it.

From there, we drove to Walpole. You've probably never heard of Walpole. I doubt most Australians have ever heard of Walpole. I'm not convinced that Walpole knows where it is, though, so don't feel bad. The three square blocks that make up Walpole are situated on the edge of an inlet and in the middle of nowhere.

This proved to be a great advantage, though. The pace of life was relaxed. We were the only people in the backpackers, so we got to use the barbee at our own pace and choose music that suited our tastes. The greatest advantage, though, came during the night. Three square blocks don't create much in the way of light pollution, so I finally got a chance to look at the Southern sky.

The sky is one of those sights that one can describe for years and never capture all its subtleties or beauty. Even more so when it's full of foreign stars in strange patterns and backed by the Milky Way looking like you never see it North of the equator. This feeling was only compounded by being on a jetty in the middle of the inlet in the middle of the night. So, rather than try to adequately capture the feeling, I'm going to have to settle for Keanu Reeves-esque understatement by simply saying, "Whoa."

I only recognize one constellation - the Southern Cross. As far as they go, it's good one to know, but before my Outback trip I'm going to have to buy and study a star map. The constellations make for better conversation than the far-out topics like Hawking radiation that I have read about.

On the way from the jetty back to the lodge, we saw a bright shooting star. After a day of travel and sights, an evening of barbecue and relaxation and a night of star-gazing, I couldn't dream up, make up, or write a better ending.