Too long in Albany

As I write this, I see the end in sight!

Imagine that you're presented with a huge Christmas dinner with all the trimmings: turkey, stuffing, little sausages wrapped in bacon, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and buckets of veg – and then you're told you're only allowed to eat the sprouts. Albany is like the sprouts. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with the little green chaps, in fact, I really quite like them! But if you were stuck with just them when you knew what else was on offer, you'd understand what it is like to be in Albany for four weeks.

Albany has a population of around 35,000; is the site of the first English settlement in Western Australia in the 1830's; and was largely established as a whaling colony before turning itself over to tourism. And after doing very little here other than look for work, do the work, and resent the work; I was finally able to get out and see some of the real reasons people might visit this little 'city'.

After leaving the immediate vicinity of the high street and travelling just a few hundred meters in any direction, you are met with kilometre after kilometre of sprawling countryside. Albany itself seems to 'occupy' 40 or 50 km of coastline, which must make it one of the least dense cities I have come across so far. In some places, you can travel close to a kilometre before seeing a building! And during that time you might have to find ways of coping with the scenery: acres of brush; herds of cattle, deer, or kangaroo; picturesque mountains; and oceans and lakes peppered with black swan, ibis, and pelicans. And occasionally a sign pointing to a nearby tourist spot or winery.

Today we went to three of the key attractions of Albany: The Natural Bridge, The Gap, and The Blow Holes.

The first is a bridge. A naturally occurring bridge. Limestone blocks hang above the water, supported by the force of their own weight and sheer determination! The structure looked incredibly sturdy – and is easily big enough for several people to walk across abreast – but we chose a very stormy day to come down there, and I wasn't about to risk falling into the churning swells below.

The Gap was the primary attraction at this place, though. And we'd picked a perfect day to visit it! Erosion has torn a gash in the limestone cliffs that tower over the southerly waters of Albany, and has left a wide inlet, 30 meters high and 10 across, into which the waves can thunder. And on a stormy day the waters crash with such force they hurl themselves up the cliff side and shower into the air. The surrounding area was incredibly wet from the force of these waves, even though they had to expend much of their energy scaling the sheer faces of the cliff. Some of the jets of water were 10 meters over our heads, and there was a permanent rainbow hanging in the mists they left behind.

The last place we visited is a geological phenomenon I had not seen before – a blow hole! A similar principal to the Gap had created huge caves and caverns underneath the cliff at a point a little East of the Natural Bridge; but rather than the waves crashing up the cliff face, they found a way through the weaknesses in the rock and gush up through small holes at the surface, in a thunderous whooshing like a whale clearing it's own blow hole. I suppose that explains the name!

And having seen those three sites, and a couple more (such as walking through the tops of the 60m trees at the Valley of the Giants... check out the pictures!) it's time to be off. We now have an Australian driver's license and the rest of Western Australia is calling!

People in Australia

I think that as a tourist, you are treated a little differently wherever you travel. People who visit London often say how friendly and approachable the people there are; whereas the majority of people that have to suffer the place on a daily basis will swear that everyone they encounter are uniformly aggressive and self-absorbed. The fact that you are a stranger in someone else's country seems to open doors, and plays on some people's deep-down desires to help a fellow human being, spend time with someone from a different culture, and brighten someone's day just because you can.

This has been my experience of travelling, anyway. As a Briton in Scandinavia, a Western European in the Czech Republic, a European in Hong Kong, and even as an Englishman in Scotland! Most locals see short-comings in their fellow countrymen that just aren't visible to the passing tourist.

And so it was without surprise that I found the Australian people to be charming, helpful, friendly, and cheerful. But I wasn't prepared for just how approachable most of them can be. It took only a few days before we had noticed that there was a new degree to the kindness of strangers. Someone overhearing a question would come up and introduce themselves; help solve the problem – or grab other passers by on our behalf to help out; and then stick around for a friendly fifteen-minute chat! Others would remark as we walked past that they liked the hat one of us was wearing, or a tattoo we had, or a tree we were looking at – and that would be the opener to thirty-minutes of stories, advice, jokes, and directions. It's amazing the conversations that could be going unsaid because of an irrational fear of saying 'hello' to a stranger.

Another example of a totally unprecedented level of kindness would be a bus driver we encountered when travelling through the Blue Mountains. A few of us had intended on taking a walk through a nearby canyon when we had car troubles and were forced to use public transport. Without a clear idea of where the bus route was going to take us, we tentatively boarded the first bus that came along and asked if they went near The Grand Canyon. After a few minutes of general chat, the bus driver had established we were travellers and exactly which hike it was that we intended to try. He gave us all concession rates as there were a few of us (???), a timetable for the return bus, and then continued his drive. He got to the road we needed, indicated to us which way his next bus stop is (for the return trip) and then promptly went the other way – a mile in the wrong direction, just to drop us nearer our destination! Seeing him returning to his route; doing a three-point-turn on a dirt-track with a full-size bus packed with other customers, waving goodbye to us as he did so, was hardly a sight I could imagine if the bus and driver had been from Brixton or Southend!

Most of the people we meet in the backpackers' hostels are not Australians. Some are almost full with Korean and Japanese tourists; others are dominated by Germans; and some are a refreshing mix of many nationalities. Most of the time there is a feeling of kinship that comes with shared experience. Many horror stories sound all to familiar, but lots are encouraging as well. The fact of the mater is that nearly all travellers are friendly, and nearly all Australians are too. So when you're lucky enough to come across an Australian Traveller, you know you're in for a good time.