Sunday, September 12, 2010

Chapter 17 "Darwin - Love it?Hate it?"


12.09.2010
Already as I walked down the street, laden with my bags and bags of stuff and more stuff, I could hear The Cavenagh, the hostel I had booked three nights in. And immediately I could tell that Darwin was definitely going to be a different scene than Melbourne – the restaurant/bar that was part of the hostel was quite large and modern and had an even larger nice terrace outside in front of the reception, it played loud music and seemed to be quite popular, because not a table was free. The pool is surrounded by sun chairs and a few bar tables and was, at past 6pm filled with happy travelers floating on noodles and throwing a ball around. Even just the fact that everyone was in shorts, slippers, bikinis, tank tops, wore a smile on their faces and usually had a healthy (or not-so-healthy-anymore) tan, was a complete 180 from the raincoats and layers of clothing in Melbourne and the hoodies and dirty jeans in the Outback. After checking in and finding my room, all the way in some corner of the building, I went exploring and found the desperately needed laundry area, the quite empty kitchen (for a hostel of that size) and the computers, all the while being a bit overwhelmed by the sounds, the feel of being in slippers and the many people all around me. Suddenly, although Darwin is really not very big (around 124800 people, the largest city in the Northern Territory, making up over 1/3 of its population), it felt as though civilization had just slapped me in my face and was laughing at my confused expression… I was truly a bit taken aback by all the commotion, the lights and music.
 Just from the looks and sounds of it, another great difference to the south was the lack or reduction of fellow Germans. Darwin is definitely Irish territory. And definitely a bit more of a man’s world, which makes sense, since the easiest jobs to find here are in construction and specialized handy man stuff. For girls, all that is left are hospitality jobs in housekeeping, kitchen, restaurant and bars. Unless of course, and this is my plan, you find a job in the outskirts (meaning over an hour or so away) of town on a farm of some sort… But more about the job search later.
I am staying in an 8-bed dorm with Irish, English, Canadian and somewhere else. The room smelled like the cheap brand of cheesy poofs mixed with a hint of chlorine and wet towel. And the air-conditioning was broken… I spent the evening organizing my stuff, repacking my very messy bag and piling the laundry up to the ceiling, writing a to-do list for the next day and sitting out on the tiny balcony staring out at the large amounts of concrete I hadn’t really seen in a while. I’m going to be honest, I really didn’t feel like going downstairs and being with people; I was tired and wired at the same time, knowing that from now on, I’m on my own again and the whens, wheres and hows of my trip are all up to me.
It was the worst night I’ve had in a long time. I wasn’t used to this kind of heat and humidity and 6 other people in the same small room breathing the same air. Someone closed the door and the balcony at some point and I woke up drenched and thinking I was going to have to go sleep in the shower. In addition, one guy had the worst coughing fits all night and another got in at some early hour and started asking me where I was from, before lying down next to his bed and falling asleep. Only, when I got up at 6am, rinsed off all the sweat and wanted to go downstairs to skype, I realized that the guy had fallen asleep on my stuff and was lying on my slippers. So I spent the morning barefoot.
My first day in Darwin started quite early and that was probably a good thing, because every minute more than sun had to rise higher, the hotter and more humid it became. From layering, sweaters, hoodies and shoes to shorts, a tank top and slippers (at 6:30am!) is quite the jump and it did make me a bit gaga walking the streets starting around 9am… I applied for the first job in a Billabong store that had an ad up in their window for 2 weeks work at a warehouse sale starting a week from now. Good feeling to know I have started the whole “working” part of my “working holiday”. Next, I found the post office from which I will be sending home a whole bunch of warm stuff and the first set of shot glasses (collecting one from each city or attraction I visit) next week. I found free internet in the state library and walked down two of the three main streets in town. I went shopping at Woolworths and bought my first box of washing powder and immediately washed a motherload of dirty clothes, encrusted with red earth, smelling like campfire, stuffy bus and worn-one-too-many-times (oh how I miss camping!). A very positive aspect to the hostel was the fact that I could turn on the washing machine, hang by the pool, cool off, transfer the clothes into the dryer and jump back in the pool. Definitely a relaxing way to spend the afternoon, though I was quite shocked to see how early it was, considering how I felt. I guess when you’ve spent two weeks on the road with an itinerary of things to do and see along the way, time just flies, whereas when you are left to create your own fun for the first time again, it’s hard to get creative again… My creativity was just enough for reading by the pool. And that all afternoon. Without sun-block. Good job. As much as I love being sun-kissed (and even a little burnt at times), doing that on the first day really wasn’t so smart.
But my pinkish glow, the fact that I hadn’t slept much and had been up quite early didn’t stop me from grabbing the French girl from my Up Track tour and going out for dinner. I have these coupons for a free meal when you buy a drink at The Vic, one of the few “in” places in town, and so we had a beer and a meal for 6$ and the fact that it was so cheap made the blandness more tasty… Sitting outside on the terrace in the warm night, we started talking to the people around us and I met an Italian who is thinking of driving to Broome in three weeks time and is looking for people to join him. Although Cairns was supposed to be my next stop, I have heard so much about the Westcoast and am actually quite interested in seeing it. And I always told myself, go with the flow and take opportunities that present themselves. Plus, it would mean camping and bonfires and cooking on a gas stove and showering in roadhouses or rivers and being out there again. And the Italian guy seems to know what he is doing, has been travelling for very long already and is quite organized. He even wants to do a little test outing with the people that decide to share his car to see if the chemistry is right. He seems quite relaxed as well, saying that if a place is nice he has no problem with staying there for a while, maybe even working a bit – making the journey the destination. … I will try my damndest to earn some money in the next weeks and then decide if a little excursion to the northwest coast is something I want to do… On another note, if I took all the opportunities presented, I’d have gone camping for a night with a whole bunch of Irish guys this morning (probably not a very good idea) or had let myself be kidnapped by an Irish and  French guy and would be on the road towards Perth right now. The latter we met after dinner and actually had a pretty fun night out with. It was the French girl’s birthday at midnight and we had gotten these tags for free champagne at 10:30, served to us by topless men (of which one looked like Eric in True Blood and the other like a good looking Dennis Rodman (if that is even possible)), followed by a male stripper – it was ladies night at the Vic. And even though I felt like I could have gone straight to bed after dinner, we ended up partying till I-don’t-know-what-time. The Vic is now responsible for one of the most memorable shots I have ever taken and the most I have laughed afterwards – instead of salt prepping the taste buds for the shot of tequila, the bartender had accidentally given us coarse white pepper. Yum.
This morning I took everything a bit slower, but still ended up walking about town while others in my room were still fast asleep. From 10:30am till around 1:30pm, I walked up and down the main streets of Darwin, into the malls, the hotels, the hostels and the cafes asking if there was any work available. And only two took my CV. I also found out that “work for accommodation” is actually illegal in the Territory. I had heard about there being a few less jobs and everyone leaving for Broome and Cairns because of it, but I didn’t think it would be like that. Yesterday, I had already applied online to a job picking cucumbers on a farm and a job as housekeeping/gardening person on some remote island resort 45mins flight from Darwin. I think next I will call the harvest hotlines and see where the mango picking begins and if they know about any farms that need hands. At the beginning of my trip I told myself it would be impossible to get the three months manual labor work for a second visa in the time that I’m here, but lately I’ve been thinking to just give it a shot. You never know. And if I do find a good job and I do earn enough money and I do have the chance to get those three months, I just might decide to stick around… But before this knocks people off their seats – I haven’t even found my first job yet!
13.09.2010
After my spirits having fallen just a bit after a quite unsuccessful job hunt and no replies to any of the email  applications I had sent in, I was quite happy when the Irish guy from the night before invited to dinner by the water. A (very) short drive from my hostel, the Darwin boat clubs are a great spot for a drink and a bite to eat with a perfect view of the sun setting into the water, silhouettes of sailboats dark against the reflection of the sun on the water. Though not necessarily catering to the budget of a backpacker, the fresh seafood and enormous fries (excuse me, make that chips) in the fisherman’s basket was quite delicious. The place was pretty full due to the fact that it was Saturday evening and there was a wedding reception going on… From there, we headed into a park nearby, where a tent with a sound system and turntables was set up next to a small lake and colorful lights lit up the surrounding trees and pulsated to the beat. People danced and relaxed to electronic music. Quite the spot for an outdoor rave. Of course, this ended at 10pm. I think most places with outdoor areas, even the bar of our hostel and our pool, close up at 10pm to reduce the noise around town. A good concept, especially in the hostel, because otherwise I could imagine the area being quite loud… I paid for three more nights when I got to the hostel and went to bed, being one of the first in my room.
I guess I must still have “jet-lag” from my outback tour, because I once again woke up at 6am. I had slept like a stone, the air-conditioner working again and the people in my room being quite considerate drunks who don’t make too much noise when they fall into the wrong beds. Even though I just wanted to turn  around and sleep just a bit more and make it feel like a real Sunday, a voice in the back of my head asked if I had taken my pill the night before and I felt around my bed for my handbag. Then I felt around my black-hole-like handbag… and ended up tearing it apart looking for my wallet, which was no longer there. The only thing worse than waking up because of a my-wallet-is-gone adrenaline shock on a Sunday morning is having to get up and make a million phone calls to block bank cards. Ugh. This is definitely a backpacker’s experience I was hoping not to make on this journey… It was quite funny though, I guess backpackers’ wallets to tend to disappear once in a while but for different reasons, because  the first thing the receptionist asked me when I asked if anyone had dropped off a wallet was:”Did you go out drinking last night?”…Aside from realizing that I’m an idiot for not storing at least one of my many credit cards in a different place or putting some Aussie dollars away for emergencies, I was more sad about all the other things that are now gone – photos, calling cards, spare earrings (including my favorites from my best friend in Berlin) and piercing, a semi-precious stone and little golden koala pin from Coober Pedy, a shell from the beaches of Sangat Island, a lucky coin from Berlin, my collection of “Little known” facts about Australia on the covers of Tally Ho rolling papers, my bright pink tag from ladies night at the Vic, funky bottle caps and last, but definitely worst – my silver anklet I got for my birthday… So where does that leave me now? With a bit of emergency cash that I can’t covert because it is Sunday, some food (which will last me a while) and a day which I will spend by the pool doing and thinking of nothing.
13.09.2010
…and that’s exactly what I did. After making all the necessary calls and cancelling all my cards, I sat out by the pool till it got too hot. I then spent a few hours lazing on my bed with “How I Met Your Mother” and the air-conditioning, only to return to the pool afterwards and spending my afternoon getting sunburned. Felt kind of good - not being able to spend money and therefore saving the money I probably would have spent on little things.
In German, there is this saying “Glück im Unglück” (basically stating that you can be lucky whilst or because of unlucky things happening to you) and in a way, you could say that his happened to me. While sitting outside the kitchen waiting for my mom to call, I started talking to this Swedish guy I had had a short conversation with on the first evening. I mentioned the whole wallet ordeal and the fact that I couldn’t find a job. This then got me involved in a conversation with some French guys sitting around at the table as well, who then spontaneously invited me to come mango picking with them in Katherine this week. And I spontaneously said yes… So either today or tomorrow, I’ll be driving 300km back into the direction where I just came from with 4 French guys, in a 28year old van they had bought for 100$, probably sitting in the back because it only has two seat and then will be camping in a homestead caravan camp for I-have-no-idea-how-long and will be earning I-don’t-know-how-much for picking and possibly packing mangoes. Sound like a plan? I’m actually quite looking forward to it. And should it turn out to be unbearable, I can always hop back on a bus up to Darwin or try and hitch a ride to the next farm with other workers.
I’ve been up and running around all morning, getting money, reloading my phone (because the calls to my banks in Germany devoured the whole 10$ I had recharged with the day before), buying snacks and supplies, a sleeping bag, a hat, strong insect repellant and rash cream (because I hear that mango sap gives you a mean burn sometimes), a rain poncho and *drrrrumroll please* - a new wallet. Still to come, a thin cotton long sleeved shirt and a box to send home my winter(ish) clothes in…
Funny, maybe having my wallet stolen triggered some kind of positive karma, because just today I’ve already seen a sign looking for a counter waitress in a café, have been called back by an agency I signed up with for a hospitality job and gotten a call from someone offering me a live-in job in a Tavern a bit outside of town. But I think I shall still get in that van I haven’t seen yet with the people I don’t know yet to do a job I’ve never done yet, because it’s just what I feel like doing. Plus, if it works out and I can stay there for a while or follow the harvest trail for a bit, then I might actually be able to get the 3 months rural work together for a second VISA.
Whatever happens, I do believe I will come back to Darwin, since there’s nowhere else to go from Katherine but North or South and, as much fun as I had there, going back to Alice Springs is not necessarily on my agenda. And I don’t think I’ve had my fill of the city yet. I want to walk by the water, find a favorite cafe on Mitchell Street, see a free movie by the Waterfront, check out the museums, have dinner at the Mindil Beach market...I haven’t taken a single picture and haven’t culturally explored the city yet. I definitely want to see Litchfield and Kakadu National Park and I believe that I could actually enjoy it here for a while (if I find a job while being here, otherwise boredom would probably take over quite fast).

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