Refinding time and space

Time has been flying by over the last two weeks. During the first days (excluding my short stay at crappy Caravella’s, supposedly Australia’s 4th best hostel according to Hostelworld.com) I really found back to a regular pace here at the Woodduck hostel. Found back to a western way of living. Buying groceries at Woolworths or Coles instead of eating out two to three times a day, workouts on the esplanade in the fresh evening breeze and deep conversations about whatnot with people of my cultural origin. Making new friends over a glass of wine, exchanging stories from Asia against stories from Australia. Continent for continent, advice for advice, laugh for laugh. The daily free sponsored dinner at the Woolshed helped a lot in the beginning and after 5 “ricy” months of Asia, I am more than willing to eat slushy pasta 7 times a week.

The days all seem to work the same, waking up in my 9-bed dorm, bright sunlight falling through the door. Climbing down my bed, searching for my flip-flops in the clothing pit on the ground, stepping outside to the balusters and sensing the hot rays on my skin. A first walk to the kitchen, checking with people in five different languages, throwing some smiles over to the sun and the poolside while chewing crunchy muesli, retrieving euro championship results from the TV room, making plans, starting the day. There is always someone up for a quick chat while the regular melange of indie pop, dubstep and downbeat tunes fill the broad open air. Most of the hostel doors are open at all times, giving it a light open-air feeling. While some go to work or just come back, others roll their first cigarette of the day, retrieving live-giving sun with their bare-chest.”You going out tonight?” asks at least one of the many french guys at the table. “Don’t think so. Have to do some stuff.” >Stuff< being defined as my bachelor thesis. Which is still luring around. Swinging over my head with all of its unfinished power. But nobody is really with me on that topic so I refrain of sharing my insights of assortment decisions, shelf space allocation and out-of-stock situations in retailing. “Where have you been yesterday?” I counter. What a question. “Went to the Gilligan’s”. There really are two addresses in town, and the Gilligan’s is one of it. Luckily very proximate to the Woolshed, Cairns’ #1 address for free food, as already mentioned. Although Cairns has 120something thousand citizens, everything noteworthy happening is going on in a few blocks of the “CBD” of the city, close to the seaside. Walkable distance. Barefoot if you couldn’t find your flip-flop in the morning.

The time here in Cairns really feels like living in a family again, in a shared community house. Which it literally is: there are few people vastly older than 25, there’s more goon on the table after 5 o’clock than water, always a hungover face sleeping in a hammock somewhere, analyzing the previous night out or sizzling bacon on the gas-fueled BBQ. “It’s Sunday, Alex” says Shawn, the bulky calm-minded scotsman, while flipping  bronze sausages in the glaring sun. “Can you fry eggs on that?” I ask and point at the grill, “I don’t know” he replies with his Scottish accent. “I might just try. The surface seems oily enough. I just need a flipper… what do you even call that thing?” “We call it a flippy thing. It’s Sunday Alex. Let’s keep it easy.”

And besides the really mellow daily business in town I did some trips around the city. What I love most about them is how spontaneous and random they evolve.
“Hier dingends, wir wollen heute mal rüber nach Port Douglas fahren. Bock mitzukommen?” – “Hey dude, we wanna drive over to Port Douglas today, you wanna join?”
My friend Pawel owned a 4WD and worked in a car rental, so a second one was easily organised. A few hours and a quick shopping trip through Coles later we found ourselves next to a beach of the North-East coast, preparing some great burgers on one of the many free municipality-sponsored barbecue sites, sipping beer from the esky, seven Germans in the middle of Australia.

Another time Pawel had a day off from work and we quickly decided to make a hiking trip in the mountains surrounding the city. So we got up at 5am to see the sunrise from “Walsh’s pyramid“, the supposedly highest free-standing pyramid in the world. The 922m climb of two hours was strenuous but the view was just as rewarding. We stayed there quite a while, watching the clouds pass by, taking a nap and enjoying the scenery. Even the decline was exhausting, but it felt good to be back in nature.

My most recent trip was to “Green Island”, one of many touristy spots off the coast of Cairns at the Great Barrier Reef. It was beautiful to be there, as we did quite a palette of activities. Feeling like an astronaut while diving with a oxygen-filled helmet, exploring the reef with a glass-bottom boat and a semi-submarine, indulging in fresh salad and fruit buffets (!) and exploring the island by foot. Great day. For free. Wait WHAT? Well besides the eight dollar for the obligatory locker, we didn’t pay any money, thanks to Pawel’s outstanding relations to his employer, who kindly put him on a business trip. And I was lucky to stand next to the one knowing people. “Plus machen” at its best! The whole daytrip might have easily cost us 140 AU$ each, not to mention the dive… We couldn’t help ourselves but celebrate the moment to the fullest, being treated like a king. For once.

So far so good. It’s about time that I start doing something productive today. Not that 1,000 words of this post were of no good use – au contraire! I receive quite some compliments about my English sufficiency, which I surely try to improve every day. But a bachelor thesis is a mean piece of paper and does not accredit my language progress to any degree. Speaking of degree – I need to get going.