I have been in contact with a cyclist from Alask who is also doing the
round Australia trip, though she's way ahead of me. She arrived in Brisbane
on May 31 and is already beyond Cairns, heading for Mount Isa. Great
effort. Her messages (usually sent from computer shops, dashed off at great
speed, often under difficult circumstances) have been very readable,
especially her latest from Cairns. So I thought it was worth passing on.
She has a very direct, open and disclosive style, not sparing the earthy
details. I like the way she can manage to convey her feelings, the agonies
and the high points with an economy of language.
As a fellow cyclist I can really empathise with the low points, the
hardships, the aches and pains. At one point she commented that "the trip
was all just hard work and not a vacation at all." I know what she means.
By the way Peter is an Australian cyclist she befriended earlier on (in
Bowen I think) and since he is travelling in the same direction, decided to
team up with him, for the company as well as for the safety aspect.
Date: Mon, 23 Jun 1997
From: Jeannine Patane <jeannine@igc.apc.org>
Subject: sex, tourism, power bars
MIME-Version: 1.0
Hello from Cairns. Peter (Bren) and I slept on the end of a jetty the
night of my last e-mail. We didn't get to sleep til late in the evening,
because some guys were fishing off the sides. It was cool hearing the
creatures of the sea splash underneath us. We awoke just in time to get
off the jetty before all the tourists came for the cruisers.
Managed to do 150 km to Cairns. The roads had me swearing on the
last 30 km due to the bumps and no shoulder. We got to a hostel with the
hugest cockroaches in the world. I checked out Tjapukai Cultural Park
and Dance Theatre the next day. Right up my alley. It was also nice to
get away from Peter for the day.
Friday is when my awsome weekend began. I booked a package deal
up to Laura, where the Aboriginaql Cultural Festival happens every two
years. I thought I was going on a bus full of tourist, turns out it was
me, two other women and 25 students from Trinity High School. Spent some
time talking to Tony, an 11th grader who reads self help books like "How
to win friends and influence people". He wants to be prime minister
someday. Good kid. All the power to him. When we got to Laura, I
thought we'd all have indiviual tents. Turns out we set up these huge
circus tent marquees. I was breaking sweat before dinner. There was 150
people just in our group, and about 4,000 people there all together.
Including heaps of feral x-generationers (hippies of the 90's).
Friday night I sat around camp and met some wonderful people,
including Irene, who wanted to know if this was the first time I saw
aboriginals. She said "we're a good bunch" I agree, Irene. Also met
Tom, a published author from Chicago, at the festival to update his book
and get some photos.
Maybe it was the ferals with their peace and love attitude, maybe
it was the primal dancing, or maybe I was in good company, with a good man, but I
got horny as hell this past weekend. Saturday morning when I woke up and sat next to a
campfire, I was joined with "Uncle Frank", Anna and Dan. Anna, a 8 yr
old, was very friendly and talkative. She and I hit it off and became
best friends for the weekend. Dan was her cousin, my age and he had the
most beautiful big brown eyes I have ever seen. Anna teased us for a
while about both of us getting together. Children are told to stop being
silly, but we all know that sometimes they can state the obvious truth.
How I wished we did get together, but it was only fantasy.
Anyway, I watched many Cape York area groups dance all day, and
they had spear throwing and boomerang contests. Saturday was really hot,
and the place just floated with dust. Tom and two other women & I went
down to the creek to take a dip (along with 100's of other people.)
Saturday night I joined Anna, Dan and family to watch the evening
entertainment of contemporary Aboriginal musicians on a theatrically
well-lit stage. We were all tired and crawled into our respective
tents. God, I wish I could have been with Dan.
Sunday morning came tent packing time, and I showed Anna
a Yup'ik dance, which she prompty caught on to. She showed me some
clapping games they did in school. We exchanged addresses so we could
write each other. I got a ride with the family to Split rock, where Dan
, Anna and I hiked all the way to the top of the ridge to see rock paintings.
Afterwasrds, they dropped me back off at the festival and we said
goodbye. The rest of the day felt anti-climatic, but I decided to skip
my ride out, and leave a few hours later back to Cairns. Those extra
hours allowed me to witness the "giving back" of approx. 40,000 hectacres
of land to the Aboriginals from Queensland's govenor.
The ride home wasn't on the luxury coach I came up in, but on a
school bus. The dust flew through the windows stiking to my sweaty,
braless body, with my breasts sagging and my crotch sweaty and
uncomfortable. Parts of the road were also corragated, throwing me about
the tin box. Everyone on the bus was enrolled or instructing a 6 month
tourism class. It is run through a technical college, and it's a
practical course on how Aboriginals can start and run their own tourism
businesses. I talked with Robby, who at one point in his life got in
trouble, and worked on a cattle station for years to straighten himself
out. He was telling me all the tips and details of cattle ranching, and
what to do if I get chased by a water buffalo. He was really excited
about this tourism course, and was telling me about his "homework"
assignment.
I got back from the festival, sweaty, stinky, exhausted...but on
the best high yet from my trip. People are so truely intresting. The
very goregous bus driver, Brett, even invited me on a 7 day white water
rafting trip, but my time couldn't permit. He gave me a contact to one
of his buddys just south of Perth, who owns a outdoor company.
Now I'm gearing up with Pete to head out tomorrow, I'll be taking the
train to Kuranda due to the shoulderless mountain roads, while Pete will
bike it. (it's about 27 km) I saw the roads from this past weekends
adventure, and there's no way I'm taking the chance on the road. Too
dangerous. Peter doesn't have the funds. I wish him the best, and will
meet him at the top. I went to the bike shop today for a tune up. It
also helped me mentally to get back into my cycling routine.
O.K. My first mail drop off will be in Mount Isa, zip code is 4825.
I have a wish list of Alaska flag patches, a postcard or small map of
Alaska (so I can show people where I'm from) and Power bars. Australia
seems to have no clue what energy or power bars are. send to:
Jeannine Patane
Poste Restante
Mount Isa, QLD 4825
And lastly, personal notes; Suzie thanks for your constant words of
encouragement! Scott, give me the gossip, I'm dying to hear, Mike
sweetie- go for it- start that business, Don keep pedaling mate, Brian,
my bum is OK but thanks for the foam offer, Parker- I love ya and miss
you too, Martin- YOU MADE IT! Congrats on getting here and graduating,
I'm sure we'll relate, Dee my man, thanks for just being there for me,
and lastly, Mr Brown, my friend- my thoughts are always on you.
Love all you mob,
Neener
Date: Wed, 25 Jun 1997 08:39:47 +1000