The imminent trip into the middle of nowhere
My excitement at arriving in Cairn’s jurassic looking landscape of rolling hills and stagnant, humid climate was relatively short lived. The pang of excitement when I left my cold Melbourne home this morning, felt the same as when I landed here yet it wasn’t too long before the reality kicked in. I was once again a backpacker. Never had I really considered this an issue, until I was forced to leave my Australian life behind and be plunged together with a bunch of hostel dwellers who have just been travelling around Bali and got their first overseas tattoo that resembles some hippy print. These aren’t fun backpackers - these are 90% of what you tend to encounter (that being pretentious, annoying yet also reluctant to talk to you). Even as I sit here typing, a number of little groups congrugate separately, some people even have their headphones in and each go about without making eye contact - the ultimate sign of avoidance. Anyway, I decided to go and make the most of what Cairns had to offer yet to my dismay it appeared that most of the attractions involve excursions to the Great Barrier Reef and water holidays. With my time schedule leaving me with just an afternoon to play with before I embark to Daintree tomorrow, I had no choice but to simply sit on the beach and bask in the sunshine (there could be worse ways to be bored I admit). Although I enjoy my own company, my day was spent in a town inundated with backpackers that I found relatively infuriating as I desperately searched for any activities to keep myself entertained. I admit I’m tired from travelling. But that doesn’t shy away from the dilemma that I am beginning to feel. I am left with a growing doubt in my mind whether I have made the right decision, yet this will only be something that I can confirm when I lose mobile reception in the rainforest. The issue here is that if I find a city boring (it really is) then what on earth am I doing driving 4 hours further into the middle of nowhere? Nevertheless as the majority of travellers here begin their journey down the East Coast which will inevitably end up with them living in St Kilda, I still grasp one element of hope for the oncoming adventure. I am, at least, travelling in the opposite direction to the general backpacker route and into the unknown. I doubt I will meet the conventional backpackers along the way and even if I did - well, everyone has to suck it up and get these 3 months of work over and done with. At least I’ll have a tan whilst doing it.
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Leaving Melbourne for rural work
The next leg of my journey will take me into the unknown. Without phone signal, I embark on an adventure to complete my ‘rural’ work in the heart of the Daintree Rainforest - the oldest rainforest in the world. I’m heading to a tropical resort that is neatly tucked away along a secluded beach and surrounded by palm trees where I will work for 4 hours a day for room & board & my visa papers. Sounds ideal, right? Although it is a perfect image where I see myself off the grid without a phone and swinging from vine trees and meeting my Tarzan, this is where my knowledge ends. But of course, I have to remain optimistic nonetheless as I wave goodbye to my Melbourne life. As I begin to grab final coffees with friends, I reassure them that I’ll be back in three months and everything will be back to normal. On the otherhand however, some people won’t be here on my return and a lot can change in these few short months. The connections, friends and jobs that I have slaved so hard to build are slowly crumbling around me - yet the world keeps turning and I must push on. This journey comes at the end of an arduous search which has seen me trawling through websites and calling farms for hours on end every day to no avail. At the end of each day I was left laughing, and almost crying that my English Degree and extensive work experience had no value in the rural hiring industry - and most importantly I couldn’t drive a car (or tractor). Like all farm jobs this has been a spontaneous decision based on a recommendation from a friend, a few brief emails and secured with a flight booking. I was exhausted and took this as a final resort. Through this I have also managed to out manouvre the typical farm jobs that see countless backpackers pick fruit in scorching sunshine and often exploitative working scenarios for little pay. As afterall, I’m not your typical traveller. You’d think that after leaving England and cruising through countries I might be a little more accustomed to leaving everything behind. And in some senses I was, and my backpack has become lighter and my possessions more minimal as I wonder what I might need in the rainforest. The actual act of leaving won’t any easier however. It is sad to leave this routine and slink back into traveller mode. We’ll see how I feel after my 4 hour flight tomorrow (I admit I am excited to be on a plane again). |
Tamara DavisonNepal, China, Malaysia, Australia, Argentina. Archives
November 2017
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