The Frantically Planned and Hastily Executed Roadtrip

Last Saturday morning, we piled into a rental car: my Columbian bodyguard Manuel, my gorgeous sweetheart roommate Kerry, and me. I had taken the weekend off from work, and we were out to make an epic of it. I've been in Australia for four months and I haven't traveled more than 50 kms from my house. So at noon we headed south on Princes Highway towards Melbourne, and this is what (some of what) transpired:

Beyond the Adelaide Hills, the countryside is sparse and rolling. Every half hour or so we encountered signs, and slowed from 110 km/hr to 60 km/hr to accommodate someone's idea of a town. Maybe an intersection, maybe a house or two. At Tallem Bend, Duke's Highway heads sharply east, but we stayed on Princes Highway, hugging the coast and headed for the limestone cliffs of the Great Ocean Road.

Three hours into the trip, we stopped at a gas station in Meningie, "Australia's #1 Medium Size Town 2008," population 1,500. Admittedly, the BP served up the best meat pie I've ever had (best... and third...). Aside from the lovely woman at the gas station, we saw one other living creature:



Back on the road, we told dumb stories to keep the driver awake, perhaps learned more about each other than we originally intended to share... you know how roadtrips can be... and eventually rolled into the booming metropolis of Mount Gambier. At 7pm on a Saturday night, the central pub was fully dead. So we checked out the famous sinkhole in the center of town, then left.

We spent Saturday night in a Comfort Inn in Warrnambool, and thank heavens we arrived at 9:30, because the innkeeper was locking her door when we arrived, and clucked disapprovingly at the notion of traveling after dark. She even cut us a deal on the room and gave us three beds for the price of two... "Not that you need three beds," she said. I am not sure what she was implying. Dinner was surprisingly fantastic Italian fare served up at a spot called Bojangles. Great Shiraz from a Victoria winery called Pizzini.

Sunday morning dawned and we were already on the road. The Great Ocean Road beckoned, and the soft colors of early morning suit her well:


When I have more time to spare, there are at least 5 quaint coastal towns, 15 adorable brunch cafes, and 9 crazy cool surf breaks I want to check out along the Great Ocean Road. If the weather were warmer, there's a chance I'd still be sunbathing on one of those cliff-enclosed beaches. Sadly, this was a quick-and-dirty adventure... we were in Melbourne by midday.

Melbourne! What a cool town! They have sweet public art:


They have an Eiffel Tower (white... can you see it?):



They have an underground gym in a converted storehouse along the river:


They sell wine in their luxury clothing stores:


They have an amazing open air market, complete with the appropriately named "American Donuts" bus:


And, crucially, you can get a good curry at 9pm on a Sunday! I was in love. Kerry and I spent two days reveling in the the amenities that a big city can provide, and I -predictably- started planning my next move. Can I get a summer internship in Melbourne? What sort of income would it take to set up shop in a central penthouse? Surely Melbourne can't top New York and London's costs of livings... and it was every bit as cool, edgy, livable, and lively as those two great towns. And a river and gardens and theater and art and.... why can't I just stay in one place?

Nha Trang

I spent nearly all of today bedridden in hopes that the God-awful swelling in my leg would subside. Things are improving, but I make a crummy invalid. I'm annoyed to be sleeping through an adventure for the sake of my health.

Yesterday we took a bus down from Dalat to the coastal city of Nha Trang. Forsaking the details of every painful pothole--and I assure you I recall every one--suffice to say that the highway system of Vietnam is a couple public works programs from completion. For about ten miles, the entire "freeway" was a dirt trail where there was a clear attempt at road construction, but mostly there were just huge rocks in the road. The bus either dodged or rolled right over the boulders, depending on their size, and if we slowed even slightly, a buzzing fleet of motorcycles swarmed past on either side. Fearless, those guys. The trip did take us down through some beautiful mountain country. There were high waterfalls sliding down sheer granite faces and sweeping views of the valley floor when we descended out of the clouds that blanketed the highest peaks on the journey. The vegetation, deciduous largely comprised of pine trees, reminded me of the Cascade mountains of North America. In fact, it was not until we got down into the valley's small villages and began to see fields of those squat, wide-leafed palms that seem to me so distinctly Vietnamese.

Nha Trang is a popular tourist destination, one that we intended to avoid, but if one must sit on one's butt all day, at least one can sit one's butt on a pretty beach. Andrew took stock of the town while I stayed in the hotel reading, sleeping, rolling to my side, sleeping some more. He reports white sand beaches, a nice seabreeze, and less aggressive hawkers and touts than expected. Overall, I think the touts of the world could take a cue from the Vietnamese. Just like everywhere else, these guys/women/children are out trying to make a buck, targeting foreign tourists in particular. But unlike everywhere else I've traveled, the Vietnamese touts seem perfectly happy to walk away. For example, we were sitting on the open-air terrace of a coffee shop the other day when a woman approached with her box of cigarettes, gum, candies, and other sundries. She smiled, said "Allo," and pushed close to show off her wares. I smiled back and said, "No, thank you." To which she replied, "Okay. Bye, see you later!" And she moved along to casually proffer at the next table. It was remarkable!

We did find an interesting spot for dinner, Luc Camh, where we BBQed our own seasoned vegetables, beef, and squid on a little wood-fired grill that was brought to the table. Our order of spring rolls turned out to be a plate of nearly twenty little fried rolls. We ate like kings for less than $10. Precisely what I needed after lying in bed all day!

I hope to make better use of the beach tomorrow... maybe find myself a cabana... and after a bit more of this taking-it-slow plan, we'll get back on the road.