Letting the Landscape Wash Over Me

These blog entries are necessarily brief. Needing to see Australia, to eat and shower and, most of all, sleep, I battle to find the time to write. So I scrawl notes in the notebook I keep in the car and document everything obsessively with my phone – which is useless as a phone here, because it is locked, and which I use only as a camera.

We are driving from Melbourne to Adelaide, a two day trip through the Australia that most visitors don’t see. Yesterday I spent the journey along the Great Ocean Road angry about so many things, most of them to do with my ex-husband, though mainly I am angry with myself, not him, because he couldn’t help who he was, and I should have known better than to say yes.

Bridgewater

Today I am calm. I sit in the car while my friend Chris aimed it at the road ahead and let the landscape wash over me. Rain sea windfarm grass trees impossibly blue crater lake

sheep vineyards vineyards sheep sheep sheep emu sheep Angus beef cattle (South Australia’s finest). Pelicans and strange brassy water that stretches on and on and on: the Coorong, where the Murray meets the sea.

The music plays: Tears for Fears, then metal, then more metal, then The Orb. I like The Orb best; its strangeness seems eminently suited to this vast, strangely familiar place. Lulled by the rocking movement of the car, I drift off to the sleep that eludes me at night. When I wake, Chris tells me we have done over 1000 km in it.

Every now and then we stop. A giant lobster looms out of the grey in a town called Kingston where men have stickers on their boats: “Fish fear me, Women want me…”

I take one look at him and decide: I do not want him.

South Australia is almost impossibly flat. Place names make references to Mount this or that, but there is surely no spot elevated enough to merit the moniker.

I keep wanting to find references to the South African landscape, to steady myself. This looks like the Garden Route, I think, and that part near Portland like the dense bush near Port Elizabeth, and this is possibly like the West Coast, although I can’t be sure because I’ve never been to the West Coast.

Finally we reach Adelaide, where Sir Donald Bradman is buried and JM Coetzee lives. It is steep and hilly in the setting sun; as we enter the city I see signs for The Colonial, a Sikh centre, an Adult Erotica store (entrance to the front and rear), a Mongolian BBQ restaurant. The streets are long and orderly and calm. Paradise on earth, Coetzee described it. Perhaps, with a couple of days here,  I will begin understand why.

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4 thoughts on “Letting the Landscape Wash Over Me

  1. redearthbluesky

    I’d like be able to comment about whether the SA coast is like the garden route, but my method of traveling the garden route ended up resulted in me not seeing much like looked like gardens. It began with a failed attempt at hitching from Port Elizabeth, a bus to Kynsa, another failed hitching attempt, a train to somewhere, more hitching to a tiny town called Albertinia and then giving up on the whole hitching attempt and bus to the cape. I do know for sure that western Cape scenery is an amazing experience and something very different from our weathered hills and endless flatness.

    Reply
  2. Gary Koekemoer

    Hindsight is 20/20 vision… you’re angry with yourself for believing and not knowing, for saying yes to an opportunity? Sometimes things just don’t work, there is no blame.The long road in Oz seems to be working, did you know it would?

    Reply
  3. Pingback: Joy in Knysna | Trekking Across Gondwanaland

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