Musings Whilst in 'Straya
thoughts on solo travel, the kindness of strangers and such
The original plan was to convince the clan of 13 (siblings, nieces and nephews , dad and stepmom), to travel to Vietnam over the Winter Break. Dad is healthy but he is getting older and I thought how special would it be for us, especially my nieces and nephews, to experience half of their ancestry with their grandfather. Well it was a plan until it wasn’t. Not everybody was on board. I will need to make a stronger argument next year. Plan B, escort my dad to Australia, or ‘Straya, to visit his 96 year-old sister. It has been six years since they saw each other, and 20+ years that my dad visited her in ‘Straya. I also wanted to go back to the place I called home in 2010, Coogee, a beach ‘burb in Sydney; and I wanted to visit Melbourne, which I was unable to do when I lived there. The trip did not start well, including missing our flight because I did not know that we needed visas; and before you judge, I was not alone, many at the airport were scrambling. I will tell you this, the only time I care about status in life is when I am traveling. Said status allowed us to get on another flight the next day with even better seats, but it probably cost me 5 years off my life due to the stress from problem-solving.
Speaking of stress, or more like frustration, have you traveled with elderly parents, who are hard of hearing and have a language barrier? I suspect this is what it is like to travel with young kids who are totally dependent on you. It only affirms my notion that I am not built to be a parent.
I last visited my aunt and cousin (pictured) in 2010 when I lived in Coogee, a beach town in Sydney. Because of the language barrier between my aunt and me, and the hearing barrier between my dad and me (my dad can barely hear and his hearing aid often does not work), I’ve come to learn that it’s about time together rather than time conversing when we are together. It’s about just sitting with each other, sharing meals, and taking walks together. It is still nice to be present in each other’s company without much having to be said. Okay, onto some musings.
It is hard to find bad coffee here. The baristas are very skilled, so much that I started drinking espressos with skim milk because they steam it so well. And if you are in ‘Straya, don’t order an Americano, instead order a long black; and instead of ordering a cappuccino, instead order a flat white. You welcome.
It is so easy to eat healthy here, from quality ingredients such as grass-fed and organic to simple recipes that are low in added fat and added sugar, but still tasty. ‘Straya definitely understands my dietary habit: vegetables plus a protein.
Service is very good in ‘Straya. It’s like the people actually care about their job, and/or care about helping you or giving you good service. I got the sense that the majority of Aussies seemed to enjoy doing their job, or at least want to do it well, and the good service is just a manifestation of this ideology.
As with most predominantly white, colonized countries, there is a hint of racism pervading throughout the country. But I have to say it is much less than when I lived here in 2010. In fact, unlike 2010 where I could not see myself living in Australia, I can now see myself living here. I have some ideas on why the change in my attitude and a post is forthcoming.
And speaking of less…WiFi! It seemed like every shop was trying to draw you in with free WiFi back in 2010; nowadays, it is completely opposite with most places not even offering WiFi. Before the trip, I romanticized myself sitting in a quaint, well designed coffee shop using the WiFi to write on Substack, and this rarely materialized because most places did not offer WiFi. But I’m not hating this either, I like the principle behind not offering WiFi.
Aussies not only know about but they pay attention to American news and politics. I don’t know if this is a good thing but I don’t see it reciprocated in the U.S.
And my favorite musing, Aussie men (usually the younger, more fit ones, who I also suspect to be straight and not gay) will stare at my body as I run shirtless by them. Even more surprising, they do not turn their gaze even when eye contact is made. I had one guy start at my chest and work all the way down to my legs. I really get the sense that it isn’t about attraction but rather appreciation, like they appreciate your hard work. I will tell you this, the typical Aussie man is way more of narcissists than the typical American man. And I LOVE IT. Because the result is they all look damn good.
Now, let’s talk traveling solo. Being single most of my life, I decided years ago that I rather travel alone than sit at home and wait for someone. I will travel alone but I prefer to have a traveling partner(s). Shared runs, shared sunsets, shared coffee, and shared experiences are higher than those same experiences alone. But solo travel is better than NO travel. Having traveled solo for so many years, I know what to expect. There will be highs and there will be lows, similar to when you travel with someone; but the highs are not as high and not as frequent, and there are more lows but for me, not necessarily lower. The kindness of strangers can really make your day when traveling solo. A stranger offering to spend some time with you, joining you on some exercise or engaging in an extended conversation, really makes for a good day. Or in the case of this trip, Susie with a Crossfit workout, only to bump into her the next day at a coffee shop, and learn that she is from a town named Extremadura in Spain, near the Portugal border. To the short king with the perfectly round and hard (yes, I felt it) ass who engaged me in a brief but nice conversation. For whatever reason, we never exchanged names, we just talked. And to Kalash, my Uber driver from Nepal, who used the entire ride to educate me about Nepal from politics to culture, share about his migration and gave me tips on what to do in Sydney. And finally to Amelia. Wow. I had no idea when I entered your shop that we would become besties in such a short time. You shared your infections smile and energy, you comped me a free pair of shorts after helping me pick out the most perfect sweater vest. And when you suggested that I go to a nearby bar that serves Japanese food and plays vinyl records, because you thought it would be my vibe, I felt so seen. And then we made plans to reconnect the next day.
I have to say this is one of my best trips in all of my years of traveling solo. On three different days, I woke up in the middle of the night, and my first thought was, this trip has been so much fun. This must be how gratitude works? Most days on this trip, I felt fulfilled, at-ease, and had so many serendipitous moments.
Low points? I’ll just share two. I was so looking forward to swimming at my favorite pool in Sydney, Andrew (Boy) Charlton Pool, but it was closed for repairs. It rained four of the five days that I was in Sydney, which defeated the purpose of spending a summaaaa down undaaaa topping off my vitamins D levels. I missed out on four days of beaches that I was hoping to do. But one day when it started pouring down rain, I ran into a coffee shop for shelter. As I sat there sipping on my decaf, skim milk macchiato, the song Another Life by SZA came on. SERENDIPITY. So, I leave you with this song for this post. I hope your 2025 is off to a good start, and if not (those affected by the LA fires), I hope it gets better.
You have a real gift for bringing people together for a memorable adventure and then documenting it. I’m grateful to often be on the receiving end of that gift. And I have a hunch about why you could live in Australia now: does it have to do with guys staring at your torso Hasselhoff-style as you run?