Something epicly awesome has happened. Remember this post where I talk about which bucket list items I would choose if I were to win the Most #EpicBucketList Contest (ever) from Contiki & The Buried Life? Well, I made it to the round of finalists. I know. Crazy. I wasn’t expecting it at all. I barely slid through the finish line with JUST enough points to be in the top 25, but I’ve got the scraped knees & the “Congratulations!” email to prove it.
Of the nearly 10,000 who entered, the top 25 will compete by submitting a 1 minute video where we are supposed to creatively share our story & explain why we should go on the #EpicBucketList adventure.
Featuring my inner rapstar “A-Car” and my trusty sidecat, “Chedda”, here’s my video:
If you want to read the lyrics, I posted them in the info on YouTube. If you like my video and want to support me in this endeavor, please share with your friends so they can watch me be a rapstar, or go ahead and send this tweet:
Hey @theburiedlife & @Contiki_US & @ContikiCAN – I want @AmandaaaCar to win the #EpicBucketList Challenge! http://youtu.be/zn0hQJVMAx0
Sometimes I feel crazy. But maybe being a bit crazed will get me to the Galapagos or Angkor Wat. :)
In all my education, I can’t admit to ever definitively learning about Australian history or aboriginal culture. But the history I heard during my time down under was a familiar story, like déjà vu from my American history classes of yesteryear. While its comparing wombats to raccoons, there’s still an underlying theme: colonialism came to the “country” and shattered the indigenous culture through land expansion, disease, re-education or, sadly, annihilation. The result from both histories is lost languages, forgotten histories, ended bloodlines and an ugly scar on the past. What does remain are those quirky naming conventions, tribes who were given land reserves, and a new sense of urgency to preserve and share the culture of Australia’s FIRST people: the aborigine.
This is me thinking out loud right now – and maybe someone reading this may have some insight that I hope you’d share: When I think of Australia, the aboriginal people are among the first five things that come to my mind. For the person outside of the US thinking of traveling to the states – is America’s indigenous culture/Native Americans among the top things you’d consider when planning a trip? My instinct tells me that the aboriginal culture is more woven into Australia’s identity than Native Americans are to the United States. That’s just an unbacked presumption. If it’s true, it’s a damn shame, but I digress…
Back on topic.
My point is, I never learned much about the aboriginal culture. While it reminded me of home’s history, there were still some learning moments that I found interesting or surprising during my dreamtime walkabout tour in Queensland.
How we began our journey into the Daintree rainforest – walking through the smoke from the fire pit before entering.
To initiate, our guide “invited” us into the forest with a smoke ceremony – he chanted as we walked through a billow of smoke from the fire. This gave us permission to enter the Daintree Rainforest – the oldest rainforest in the world. One is not permitted to enter the rainforest unattended by one of the tribesman. Today, our aboriginal guide was Dingo. Dingo proceeded by explaining the tale of his friend who entered the rainforest without him and happened upon a stinger plant (very, very painful). Dingo made sure the rainforest had its retribution – he casually avoided telling him the remedy for his pain until he couldn’t take it any longer. I’ve usually been one of the philosophy that it’s better to seek forgiveness than permission… but not when it comes to revered aboriginal land!
Once inside the rainforest, I could feel the sacredness. Vines coil, leaves shimmer, bold sunrays penetrate like heavenly spotlights through the branches. It’s an emerald maze. Just knowing the deadly things hidden within the trees would be enough to keep me out without a tribesman. But despite all the dangers, the forest holds all the remedies. The rainforest is medicinal and healing. The rainforest possesses everything needed to survive. And we know it’s true, as the aborigine have flourished here for ages.
Our guide, Dingo, demonstrating how to use the tools offered by the rainforest – from opening nuts to painting on skin, washing with “soap leaves” and creating shields.
We traipsed along the trail, stopping as Dingo showed us different plantlife and points of interest. We circled around innocent-looking leaves – it was the stinger plant, one of Queensland’s most toxic plants that can leave redness and a painful stinging sensation for months. We analyzed a menacing-looking vine with thorns and learned it to be nature’s fishing wire and hook.
Dingo demonstrated how termite nests are better predictors of the weather than a local meteorologist with their fancy equipment. He passed around tree bark with natural elements to help bug bites. I kept a piece of bark for myself and soothed my red bumps for the rest of the walk.
Termite hill, working hard to forecast the weather.
We made our way to the Mossman River – what a beautiful sight! The water slithered over the round boulders in a mystical fashion – I felt like I encountered a magical fairy pond. Dingo wet different colored rocks and began rubbing them against a boulder. Within seconds, he had created “paint” which he used to dab those iconic aboriginal dots on his arm. Then, he grabbed some leaves, dipped them in the water and began to scrub them vigorously. A sudsy substance began to bubble… SOAP! Nature is so cool.
The cultural insight I found most fascinating was the kinship model. Tribes marry other tribes. When a couple is married, the husband is not allowed to speak to or be in the presence of the father of his wife. Contact is not acceptable and should be avoided. The way husbands can make connections with their “father in law” is through one thing… Have you guessed it yet? Children! When a couple has kids, the children go to their grandfather as a way for the husband to communicate with his bride’s father. I asked Dingo “why” and his response was a simple & wonderful, “I don’t know. That’s just how it is.” He laughed as he told us a story where he almost bumped into his wife’s father at an event, and his brother saved the day, avoiding an aboriginal faux pas.
There might be some husbands out there who would appreciate a system like that, right?
I loved our dreamtime walkabout tour in the Daintree rainforest. As our group gathered around a picnic table and enjoyed tea & damper at the conclusion of the tour (there’s always tea & damper), I reflected on how wonderful it is that despite a rough past, there’s an effort to keep these cultures alive and shared. Despite the trauma and persecution these peoples once endured, there’s newfound support for these indigenous communities. It wasn’t until 2008 that the Australian parliament released an official apology to the lost generations of aboriginal culture (2008… I know, right?). I think it such an honor that I was able to spend the afternoon with this group and I sincerely hope that other travelers visiting Australia consider making an aboriginal cultural experience a top priority.
The Mossman Gorge. Seriously beautiful. This is probably one of my favorite photos.
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The BL – Bucket List – that seemingly unfeasible list of life dreams and goals that range from rolling in every square inch of the earth to owning every breed of cat in a mansion on a lake.
Mine looks something like that – traveling and cats. Kidding… sorta. I have a Bucket List. But it’s a secret Bucket List. It’s a draft on this blog. I’ve always hesitated to publish – what if I never accomplish it? Am I a failure? What if life laughs in my face and retorts that my goals are too grand and too unattainable? What if I never have the time or money to do it all?
But I’m also a hypocrite. I don’t believe in the “keep your wish to yourself or it won’t come true” superstition. I believe that if you have a dream or goal or hope, it should be shouted loud and proud for all to hear. I believe when something is said with conviction and confidence, it’s more likely to be actualized. Holding oneself publically accountable will achieve more than simply allowing a dream to swim around in your brain matter. Because then it just stays that: a dream.
Perhaps it’s time I rethink the “keep it to myself” philosophy and share my overzealous Bucket List with the world. Or maybe I’ll rip off the bandaid slowly and highlight a few things for now…
If you follow my blog’s Facebook page, you’ll know that I’m obsessed with entering (and sharing!) travel contests. I see these contests as a means to potentially achieving my (or your!) Bucket List goals, which is why my inner contest huntress went all Nala all pounced with black eyes and drawn claws all over this one: The Most #EpicBucketList Contest from Contiki & The Buried Life.
You guys, this is the best contest I’ve seen in a while. I can’t hog it all to myself. I’ve been doing happy dances every time I dream of this coming true. Which is why I’m sharing – because if I announce these Bucket List dreams with enthusiasm, perhaps they’ll be more likely to happen.
So here are the top 5 Epic List activities I selected for the contest. I chose items that seem unattainable, will challenge my comfort zone, and will teach me something new about our marvelous world.
I’ll open my arms as wide as Christ the Redeemer as I overcome my aversion to heights while gliding over the bikini-clad locals drinking caipirinhas on Copacabana. I’ll take a stab at Portuguese and stab some delicious Brazilian meats.
Sail the Greek Islands on a private yacht
Private yachts aren’t typically my style (I’m more of a peddle-boat chick – simple & inexpensive) but I would make the exception for Greece. My favorite word in the universe is Greek. But I’ll never reveal that word until I finally visit Greece and live out the meaning of that word while taking my own Odyssey to Mykonos, brushing up on mythology, and enjoying endless feta, moussaka, & ouzo.
Watch the sunrise over Angkor Wat
Ever since my service trip to teach English in China, I’ve yearned to explore other Asian countries. In Cambodia, I’d learn about another corner of the far east, eat spiders (maybe), ride in tuk tuks, stroll the bazaar and indulge in a culture very different from my own.
Swim with sharks in the Galapagos
This sounds terrifyingly exhilarating. It seems backwards to want my own personal Shark Week in the land that inspired Darwin’s ‘survival of the fittest’ philosophy. I’m probably not as fit as that shark and probably won’t survive.
See the Pyramids on camelback in Egypt
Everything about Egypt says “mystique” to me – ancient ruins, lost treasures, towering pyramids, puzzling hieroglyphics. Not only do I find ancient Egyptology intriguing, I am also curious to learn more about modern Egypt.
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If this Epic Bucket List were to become a reality, I’d get to choose a travel companion. I’d ask one of my best friends, Lara, an ethnographic filmmaker whose spirit for culture & travel is as wild as mine, to join me on the adventure. With our synergistic friendship, we’d be documenting & sharing the entire quest to encourage other Millennials to fulfill their own Bucket Lists.
We’d also have the opportunity to add our own items to the list. I’d probably like to add something that would benefit others: volunteering at an wildlife rehabilitation center, offering English lessons, delivering water & resources to people who need it most… OR maybe streaking in Antarctica. What would you put? What’s on your Epic Bucket List?
So maybe I’ll win? Or maybe not. Either way, sharing these Epic Bucket List goals has made me feel like the world is much closer to my fingertips than before I pressed “Publish.”
If you want a shot at making your Epic Bucket List a reality, ENTER HERE.
At this time last Friday, I felt like a fifth grader on the last day of school. Though instead of chanting “Summer! Summer! Summer! Summer!” my brain rhythmically chimed “Indy! Indy! Indy! Indy!” Once the clock struck 5pm, my favorite girlfriends and I left corporate America & med school in the mitten state for a brief road trip to Indianapolis. Our friend Lexie, the Indy transplant, hosted us for a quick weekend.
I had never been to indianapolis before. After a year of hearing her gush about how great a midwest city it is, I finally had the opportunity to see for myself. However, I did not see Indy as I expected… I have a travel blog. I thrive on travel. I adore writing about it. Ideas for blog posts started spinning in my head as soon as I confirmed my commitment to go. I thought about public guided tours of the city, learning the bike culture, enlightening myself at museums, appreciating the Indy art scene… That’s not what happened. These are the roommates I once lived with in our wonderful Detroit duplex. These are my greatest friends in the world. Now that we’ve “grown up” & moved away from college, very seldom do we ALL have the opportunity to get together for true QUALITY time. I didn’t craft blog posts while I was there. Instead, I made memories and lived in the moment of our friendship.
It was amazing.
During the drive we caught up on each other’s lives. We talked about relationships and bowel movements. We compared (some) relationships to the stuff of bowel movements. “Are we there yet?!” was never asked, and when we were finally there, we continued to laugh, talk, and enjoy until 4:30 a.m. I haven’t seen that time in a long time.
The next day we nursed broken hearts and fed addictions at the Indy Chocolate Fest. Who cares that it was in Indy – chocolate is chocolate (though it did benefit the arts in local Indy schools. +1 for altruism). I was reminded about how delicious macaroons are (my first & last was in Paris), tasted chocolate beer, licked Gorgonzola-pecan ice cream, munched on chocolate treats/candied popcorns and really enjoyed a belt-loosening chocolate buzz.
We awed at the height and grandeur of the war memorial. I didn’t learn much about it, but did enjoy the ridiculousness of us getting photos with each other in front of it.
We call this photo “Picception”
We strolled along Mass Ave., visiting shops, ogling at the bike bar until settling (or rather, revving up) at my new favorite establishment: Tini. The Mango Tabasco martini burned just right, the televisions played FUN music videos spanning across the decades (can I get three cheers for Backstreet Boys, Larger Than Life?), the bartenders filled our table with surprise shots (more than once), and another bartender taught us how to ‘tut’ which led to an epic dance off (which I lost, miserably). We checked out some other places (tacos at Bakersfield = delicious) until the night sadly faded away. I became a first time Lyft user. I felt so millennial as I walked past the cabs to our free Lyft ride. It was a fun night in Indianapolis with my girlfriends.
Sunday started with a big, fat breakfast, then continued with the unfortunate drive home. We played games in the car to pass the time. When we finally rolled into Detroit, my only thought was that whoever invented weekends did it all wrong – two days is not enough.
So I really didn’t tell you too much about Indianapolis. Because honestly, I paid more attention to my friends and our conversations than the city. I noticed how pretty Lexie’s red hair looked in the sun rather than how the changing autumn leaves shimmered in the breeze. Melissa’s laugh made me laugh more than people watching the locals. Tammy & Monica’s conversation about medical care captured my attention more than the Indiana specialty craft beer list. I’m more than okay with that.
I love our weekend in Indianapolis. But I still need to go back. Because I still need to explore those bike trails. I still need to learn why it’s called the Circle City. I still want to drive a race car. I still want to analyze this midwestern city and compare it to Detroit. There will be a time for that. This wasn’t that time. This was the time for old friends and new memories in a new place. Thanks, Indy, for hosting us. I’ll be back soon.
Few words rhyme with my name. Panda. Propaganda. Memoranda. Now I can add Kuranda to the list. A town in Tropical North Queensland, a visit to Kuranda welcomed a slower-paced day of moderate activity. Everyone’s adventurous spirit needs a vacation day, right? Kuranda offered the pause to sit back and observe the scenery or meander through the shops of the village, unrushed, unscheduled. After four active days in Sydney, a day trip to Kuranda was the perfect introduction to Queensland.
Here’s what we did in Kuranda:
C’mon Ride The Train
The day commenced with a leisurely 2 hour train ride from Cairns to Kuranda. This historic, mechanical chunk of machinery weaved through the rainforest, charged up the mountains and barreled through the tunnels. Incredible sights unfolded during our journey – from the roaring Stony Creek Falls to the patchwork cane fields to the lush, towering mountains. It’s easy to get lost in the setting and forget that Kuranda Scenic Railway wasn’t always a tourist attraction – it first served as a railway for mining, agriculture and passenger transport.
It took five years to build three sections of this railway including wood & steel bridges and 15 tunnels – remember, this railway was constructed from 1886-1891. Late 1800s! Before we were spoiled with technology, industrial standards and workplace safety. Yes, many men perished during the railway’s construction and the workers were expected to BYOB (bring your own bush tools). Some even worked solely with their hands. Can you imagine digging out 15 tunnels of rock and dirt with your bare hands? Interestingly, most of the workers were recruits from Italy and Ireland. Nothing like some good ol’ pasta & potatoes, eh? It was HARD manual labor. These men faced adversity from steep land grades, decomposed rock, precarious angles, brutal rainy seasons, food supply shortages, and a lack of understanding of the geology of the earth and its dangers.
That’s part of the reason this railway is considered such a feat – for its time and the elements, it’s amazing that this endeavor successfully completed. Development in the 1880s was so hasty, it was believed that many construction projects were fast tracked (pun intended), often derailing (pun also intended) adequate engineering review before plans were approved. But don’t worry – it seemed to work out for them as I lived to tell the tale of this scenic journey over a century after its maiden voyage.
A small corner of Queensland’s most photographed bridge.The roaring Stony Creek Falls as the train slowly chugged by. I could feel the mist on my face… ahhh. They say that the governor of Queensland once came here to visit after the bride was constructed, but no speeches were made that day due to the thunder of the falls.Soak it in…
Meander in Kuranda
Once the train arrived in Kuranda, we had quite a few hours allotted to explore. That’s the beauty of visiting this village – as a completely unscheduled part of our day, we could mosey around town as we pleased. The mango wine teased and the cafes tantalized. There are plenty of food options here. If you’re someone who is anticipating a day trip, I highly recommend checking our their website. We enjoyed strolling through the older part of Kuranda that I would dub “hipsterville.” This corner of the village of Kuranda has an edgier vibe – seemingly more artistic, alternative, colorful and communal. It’s further past the main strip of markets. When we walked through it was pretty empty – which is why I’m under the impression that not many people walk far enough to come across it. Don’t make that mistake!
He purposefully wore that shirt to match the typeface.
Birdmanda in Birdworld
While there are various places to visit in Kuranda for an entry fee – Butterfly Sanctuary, Koala Gardens ,etc. – only Birdworld made our itinerary. I mean, I had to stay true to my nickname, Birdmanda (I’ll save the story for later – but it involves the rapper Birdman & Canadian Geese on Belle Isle). Birdworld was smaller than I expected, but not so small that I’d consider it inhumane. These birds seemed to contently fly around the enclosure, snagging food from the hands of visitors. It was so fun to interact with these birds up close. One bird foe even decided to gnaw on (and break!) my awesome f-stop backpack. Rude! These are my favorite photos from Birdworld:
A casual bro nod? Or friends of a feather?Backpack biter… brat bird
I’ll be posting plenty more Birdworld photos on instagram, so if you have an account, follow me there!
Shopping at Open Air Markets
Kuranda is known for its open air markets. I’m grateful for the suggestion to do most souvenir and gift shopping in Kuranda. While the kitschy Aussie shops were plentiful (kinda like UGG stores in Sydney… EVERYWHERE), there were some stand out stores that sold legitimate artist wares vs. the cheaper, mass-manufactured items. Trust me, you’ll know the difference. When you see the exact same didgeridoo and boomerang taunting in 3 different doorways, you’ll know to avoid it. I need to recommend Doongal Local Aboriginal Art (pictured below) – this is where Eric & I purchased our didgeridoo and boomerangs. The items are organized by artist and each artist has his or her own unique style. Not only are the items signed by the creator, each purchase includes an info sheet with a photo and biography about the aboriginal artist. The store attendant even played our didgeridoo for us to make sure we liked the sound quality.
There’s also a grocery store and bottle shop in Kuranda – so if you’re stranded on a resort like we were, here’s your opportunity to stock up on snacks and wine.
One of the many kitschy Aussie shops you’ll find in Kuranda… get your share of croc skins, kangaroo skins, and bush hats!The face of a man unknowingly about to drop a fat dime on some didgeridoos and boomerangs. ;)
SkyRail
The skyrail cableway began the leisurely descent from Kuranda toward Cairns where our shuttles waited. As we stood in line, we noticed our new friend, Carol, that we had met earlier on the train. We invited her to join us. Sharing her company twice was a blessing. We chatted about Australia and the U.S. We discussed cultural differences, politics, economics, and all interesting and informative conversation we wouldn’t have had unless we spoke with a knowledgeable Aussie. Our eyes were opened much wider thanks to her. We glided high above the canopy and the Barron Gorge. The treetops looked like large fields of broccoli reaching for the sky. The cableway made stops at different lookout points – the Barron Falls, a rainforest stroll – a casual break from the heights. Although the cableway is safe, it’s still a stomach lurcher when you look down.
For the thrill seeker, a day in Kuranda my sound like a boring tourist trap. But for this adverturist, the change of pace and scenery really gave me the chance to inhale deeply and say, “aahh… so THIS is Queensland.”
Descending back to Cairns on the skyrail. Wouldja look at that view!Gliding over the Barron River. Thanks Carol for the pic!My snap of the feeble Barron Falls – they were not in full force!
Eric & I relaxed at the Kewarra Beach Resort & Spa (Kewarra) in the month of May (autumn, in Australia) as our accommodation for our visit to tropical north Queensland. We stayed in the 1 room Pandanus Bungalow hidden in the rainforest, not far from the beach. Here is my review of our Kewarra Beach Resort experience.
SNAPSHOT
The Quick: Kewarra is a secluded, private bungalow-style resort nestled in the natural setting of the rainforest along Kewarra Beach in Cairns, Queensland. There’s a lovely open-air restaurant, laundry room and wifi among many other amenities. There are various bungalow styles and locations on the resort , ranging in amenities and prices.
The Damage: Rooms range approximately $277-600 USD ($300-650 AUD) depending on bungalow style, location and season of stay. Packages are available.
Three Adjectives: Romantic, Tropical, Natural
Recommendation: I adored our stay at Kewarra. If I were heading back to Tropical North Queensland, I would stay again. If you’re planning a stay near Cairns or Port Douglas, consider Kewarra for your accommodation.
HYPES
(AKA things worth bragging about)
Location, Location, Location! Private, secluded, natural rainforest, along the beach, between Cairns and Port Douglas, not too far from Palm Cove… all these things added up to a sublime location.
Call of the Wild. Nature lovers, rejoice! You are living among Mother Nature’s finest flora and fauna. The greatest point of difference about Kewarra compared to the other accommodations I considered, was the embrace of the natural environment. While most resorts have that “embellished with landscaping” image, Kewarra seemed like the bungalows were designed around the native flow of the forest.
Animal Kingdom. It is true that the landscaping at Kewarra is organic and purposefully untamed. That doesn’t mean it is overgrown and unkempt. It means the grounds are a friendlier habitat for the creatures that call Kewarra home. We enjoyed watching wallabies frolic on the lawn, fruit bats hanging out in the trees, gorgeous butterflies fluttering around the tropical flowers, lizards scurrying toward protection, a strange chicken/turkey-like bird digging holes along the path (hilarious, by the way)… every step outside our bungalow created excitement for whatever nature we were about to encounter. We never saw the infamous goanna, however.
Smiling Staff. The staff at Kewarra genuinely cared and recognized our faces as guests. It’s the familiarity that gave that “We matter” feeling. The Paperbark Restaurant workers were amiable and helpful; the receptionist assisted with all our requests (confirming tours, helping book an excursion, exchanging cash for coins, scheduling airport transfers). It left Eric wondering, “Why are people here SO NICE?!” (people aren’t very nice to him too often…)
Size Matters. Our little 1 room bungalow was cozy, not small. A room with a bed, two chairs, side table and tv stand was plenty space. It wasn’t luxurious, but was charming and comfortable. It’s not like we were often IN the room, besides for shut eye and watching the strangest Chinese gameshows ever (but seriously entertaining).
Quiet Public Beach. Kewarra Beach is a public beach, though I never would have guessed it. The sand was litter-free. A few beach-goers relaxed with their families. Couples walked their dogs. A net encapsulated part of the water to safeguard from jellies. Kewarra Beach was tranquil.
Excursion Friendly. Kewarra is a pick-up point for every tour. Going on excursions was hassle-free with Kewarra. The staff confirmed all our reservations and helped book any additional tours. Even if you do not have any plans, there are plenty of brochures at the desk to make last minute planning easier.
Laundry Facilities. Back toward the entrance of the resort, Kewarra has a small building beyond the parking lot dedicated to two washers and dryers. Although the laundry room was dated, the ability for us to do our own laundry & pay with coins saved so much money compared to the “laundry service” provided at most hotels ($5 to clean my undies?! No thanks).
GRIPES
(AKA notes/complaints worth mentioning)
“Hit or Miss” Restaurant. Though I’d slide the scale toward satisfied vs. dissatisfied, my experience with Paperbark Restaurant was mixed. While Eric would classify his dishes as sublime (kangaroo steak = superb, scallop entree = addicting), I had a couple dishes (i.e. seafood risotto) that were as salty as our Great Barrier Reef excursion. There was an evening when the wait staff forgot to place our order, but they quickly rectified the situation with complimentary dessert (gelato trio… mmm). Brekky was painfully expensive to buy every day – even just for poached eggs on toast – so I’d recommend a package with breakfast included in the morning (or BYO). Keep in mind, there’s a reason why Paperbark Restaurant won TripAdvisor’s 2014 Award of Excellence.
Secluded… and Stuck. While Kewarra is a nice little hideaway, it also means “trap” to guests who don’t hire a car or walk to the bus stop. There really is nothing within close walking distance (unless you want to trek over 30 minutes); essentially you’re bound to the resort restaurant/bar and grounds. We beach walked to Palm Cove one day (40 minutes) for a change of scenery & food. When on excursions, we’d take advantage & purchase snacks/wine from random stores we encountered. Most excursions pick up at the reception of the resort.
Alligator Toots. A barely noticeable odd odor lingered in our room. The veranda of our bungalow overlooked the lagoon – this may have been the culprit of the smell. It was a subtle scent of alligator toots, as my sister would have said during our childhood trips to Florida when we’d cross a swamp/stillwater. It wasn’t terrible and after 5 minutes our noses acclimated… so don’t let that deter you.
Weak Air Con. It was not terribly hot during our travels, but the room felt slightly muggy and never reached that bitingly crisp cold. I could see this being a nuisance in the summer, but for our stay, it was not a hindrance to a comfortable sleep. Just something worth noting.
Lonely Pools. We never saw a soul in the pools. We never swam in the pools. Partly because our days were consumed by activities, partly because the evenings grew dark by 6pm, but mostly because the pools were sheltered by the rainforest. The pools didn’t see the sun, weren’t overly warm, and the leaves from the surrounding trees tainted the water clarity. Oh, and I had the irrational fear that a spider would web down from a tree above. I did see a diligent cleaning crew at the pool every morning, but by the time evening rolled around they’d be full of debris again. But what would you expect from a pool surrounded by trees? The pools are beautiful, but if you’re looking for an open, pristine, sun-filled, Olympic-size pool, this is not it.
Nananananananananana… Bat Land! A point of admiration for Kewarra was the abundance of wildlife. When Eric and I first toured the footpath that weaved around the bungalows, we encountered hundreds of flying foxes screeching in the trees above. This didn’t bother me a bit; I like nature (& bats). We never heard them from our bungalow. But if you were the bungalow beneath the bats? Darn, good luck sleeping. If you have a fear of bats? Darn, happy nightmares to you. Perhaps request that your bungalow isn’t close to the bats to mitigate this issue.
OUR EXPERIENCE
I felt a touch of magic from Kewarra as I researched accommodations from home. Kewarra seemed to offer that unique experience I sought – and it delivered. When the airport shuttle first dropped us off to that lush green canopy and we walked up to the open air reception (open air! no walls! what?!) my expectations for a tropical getaway were already met. Kewarra forever has the honor of being my first ever resort stay, so when our luggage was whisked away to our rooms on a golf cart while we sat in plush lounge chairs enjoying a refreshing, pineapple-y welcome drink, I refrained from a happy dance that wanted to jump around from the excitement of luxury. Kewarra wasn’t a sterile, uniform hotel. Every step outside the bungalows was art for the eyes between the flowers and nature that encompassed the bungalows. The pace of Kewarra felt slow and relaxed. It wasn’t overrun by tourists. Sometimes it seemed we had the whole place to ourselves. I’m so fond of the memories made at Kewarra. We laughed with outrageous joy as we watched a joey wallaby bounce around the lawn like a spazzed out kitten on catnip. I laughed when Eric encountered a gecko in our bathroom. We discovered what a paperbark tree really felt like. I made an embarrassing scene over Eric dipping his toes in the ocean for the first time. Every night ended with watching the strangest Chinese dating game shows. We spent a dark evening taking long-exposure photographs of the stars. We were happy. Truly, blissfully, adventurously happy. And Kewarra was the setting.
LEARN MORE
Here are more ways to learn about the Kewarra Beach Resort & Spa:
Have you ever stayed at Kewarra Beach Resort? Thinking about it? How about any other accommodations around Cairns? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below! :)
*Lucky me – I was a guest of Tourism & Events Queensland from winning a blogger contest. A portion of my stay in Queensland was covered. All opinions are genuinely my own.
My mom works at an elementary school. Five days per week she beholds the innocence of children – their laughs, their curiosities, and their bewilderment of new objects and experiences.Mom recently told me about a child who needed to call home. When he entered the office and mom handed him the handset tethered to that coil cord, he looked at it with confusion. “What is this? How does it work?” This kid had never seen the standard office landline.“What?!” I exclaimed in surprise. “How could he not know how to use it?! You hold it to your ear and press buttons!” But I suppose if a child has only been exposed to the screen of a smart phone, anything else looks foreign. My exasperated annoyance over this kid’s ignorance was cut short, as my mom reminisced on my childhood during a particular occasion at my grandparents’ home. As the story goes, I had a similar reaction at my first rotary phone encounter. I didn’t understand why the “buttons” didn’t “press.”Well, then. Who am I to judge?
Eventually, my education taught me about Alexander Graham Bell and the history of the telecommunications industry. But until that point, I had unfamiliarity comparable to this child.
These stories reminded me of a piece of aboriginal culture I learned about during the Flames of the Forest Cultural Dining Experience (you can read more about that awesomeness here). He was from the Kuku Yalangi tribe and he talked about a concept that wasn’t “new” but isn’t ingrained in my day-to-day thought process: Before the before.
He explained the importance that the culture places on understanding the things that came before what came before… that is, the origin or the beginning. And no, I’m not talking the whole creationism vs. evolution debate, but rather understanding the legends, stories, history, timeline and most importantly, the NATURE and EARTH behind existence. But beyond learning about it, they learn to practice it. It would be like my mom’s little student not only knowing about handset and rotary phones, but knowing how to use them and create them and every other facet about them as well.
Food doesn’t just appear on a plate. Or in a grocery store. It comes from the earth. And this tribe teaches and trains their children how to hunt, fish, gather and garden from nothing. They learn how to create the tools to provide food. They learn how nature communicates and responds to the seasons and the elements. They are a part of the rainforest in which they live. They get it on a deeper, more visceral level.
It’s a thoughtful existence. The past is honored and protected and shared. The Kuku Yalangi tribe comprehend and respect the things that came before. If I were to do that with my life, my head would spin. I’m thinking about the Kleenex I just blew my nose in (cute). I start thinking about the branding of facial tissues and the different varieties they come in (cold care? With moisture? With softness of sandpaper? In a blue box? Polka dotted?). I wonder about how a snot rag became so marketable. I think about the process and materials needed to make a tissue and the people who work (kleenex connoisseurs?) to make it happen. I’m grateful for the lack of cloth hankies. I always toss away my used Kleenex without thought – I’ve never considered the “before the before” of a facial tissue.
Try this – for one hour today, think about the “before the before” of everything you touch – from the lunch you eat to your means of transportation to the pen with which you write. A fun exercise to make your brain twirl, right? Feeling more curious now?
It makes me appreciate the interconnectivity of humanity and places. It makes me ponder the past and all the components that led to all things right now. It makes me consider progress, as my “now” will be the future’s “before.” The idea of before the before isn’t ground shaking, but it may shake up the way you think about things – big and small. Its a cultural lesson from the Kuku Yalangi that I’m bringing home from Queensland, Australia. Travel is nice to “oooh” and “awhh” at scenery. Travel is nice to learn new things. But travel is best when it moves – when it shifts our perspectives and reminds us to think a little harder.
Did you have a travel experience that made you shift your thinking to a deeper level? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!
We hopped off the charter bus into the cool, dark rainforest in the Mowbray Valley near Port Douglas. Lit torches lined a dirt path, weaving through the trees to a clearing where others gathered. Clusters of people chatted amongst themselves, all of us strangers to each other. Eric & I procured drinks from the outdoor bar, then awkwardly stood around as passed h’ors devours ushered their way into our stomachs – crocodile on cucumber, caramelized onion/goat cheese tartlet, glazed chicken on a skewer – delectable teasers for starving appetites.
Suddenly, a distant rhythmic drumbeat grew nearer. We clusters hushed and inched toward the sound, not sure whether to follow the beat or wait until it arrived. A male voice cut through the rhythm, singing a foreign melody in foreign words. Then they arrived, aboriginal musicians with faces painted and skin showing. The drumbeat stopped. Silence. All was still but the breeze and the white noise of crickets.
They beckoned us to follow as we continued excitedly down a torchlit path, all of our senses heightened from the darkness and unfamiliar noises. This was Flames of the Forest – an award-winning, aboriginal dining experience nestled in the mystical rainforest.
Our destination was a large outdoor pavilion with three large community tables. After observing the other guests for the evening, we strategically sat at a table with seemingly animated older folks – this proved as an excellent choice of table mates, as the rest of our evening consisted of shared stories, belly laughs, and cross cultural learnings.
Chrystalline chandeliers glittered violet from the ceiling, candles flickered on the tables, and twinkling strands of golden lights swooped through the brush. The light cast on the tall trees like painted spindly hands reaching for the Southern Cross. It was, in a word, enchanting.
The ambience was only the beginning of the experience.
The wine poured. That exotic, wooden, reverberating resonance of the didgeridoo that encapsulates Australia in a single sound played. We acquainted ourselves with our table mates – all midlifers, all from different places in the world. Entrapped in conversation, it almost shocked when our aboriginal hosts – the Creek family of the local Kuku Yalangi tribe – began to speak, welcoming us to the event and explaining the tribe’s culture, values, and beliefs. We learned of the didgeridoo, the concept of “before the before”, and how dreamtime stories are passed from generation to generation. Our host’s personality shined – serious but cheeky, intensive and fierce, descriptive though illuminative. He guaranteed that we would believe in every word that parted his lips… even the fables and legends of his ancestors.
At the conclusion of his speech, dinner commenced. As did the didgeridoo/drum music. Seven courses of locally produced cuisine served family-style around the table. And OH was it delicious. A region can be flaunted through the tastebuds. And this meal boldly declared itself of culinary worth. Just reading the menu is an experience of palatable magic. See for yourself:
Read that menu….
The kangaroo steak ranked among our list of favorites. This was a particular treat – I can’t tell you the last time I walked to the local butcher and said, “Hey, mate, I’ll take the ‘roo!” By the way, my wine glass was never empty. Like, never. Our servers were quite attentive. So by the time our bellies were bursting and the plates were no longer passed, a warm fuzzy wine feeling circulated my veins. Or maybe that was from the amiable company and delectable dishes. Regardless, I was feeling full in the belly and the heart.
With the presentation of dessert launched the dreamtime stories. The host expressed a forbidden love story between a beautiful duck and a river snake, which weaved a marvelous tale about how the platypus came to exist. And as he promised, I believed it.
Though pricey, our evening at Flames of the Forest remains one of my favorite experiences in Queensland. It encapsulated aboriginal culture, indigenous music, tribal legends, gourmet food, unending wine, and new friends against the backdrop of the tropical rainforest. Magical.
KNOW BEFORE YOU GO
Flames of the Forest is limited – in seating and in nights performed. The aboriginal cultural experience is only held on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
I booked my reservation through a third-party site (Viator) which was cheaper than direct. I also used a coupon code from Viator’s Facebook page for an even steeper discount.
Dress code is “smart casual” and heels are not recommended (grass). If you need to look up smart casual, have no shame… so did I.
During the h’ors devours portion of the evening, investigate the other guests to determine who you’d want to sit with at the community tables. We purposefully avoided the young couples who seemed standoffish & aloof.
Bring business cards. If you’re lucky like us, you’ll want to keep in touch with your table mates.
Video recording is prohibited.
Arrive hungry! There is a lot of incredible food.
Have an open mind, drink lots of wine, and enjoy!
What’s the most exotic dining experience you’ve ever had? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below!
There’s a cheaper alternative to a bird’s eye view of Sydney Harbour that is probably equally as impressive as the Bridge Climb.
I say “probably” as I didn’t actually experience the Bridge Climb. $200-$350 for 2 hours of 1,000+ steps for Sydney’s acclaimed best view in town? Most expensive work out ever? Though intriguing, the Pylon Lookout was the affordable alternative. For $13, a comparable view awaits. If you’re a student (and possess your student ID), the bargain improves with $8.50 admission.
To climb or not to climb… I chose the economical equivalent.
The Pylon Lookout stands at 292 feet (89 meters) overlooking the harbor, only 147 feet (45 meters) fewer than the Bridge Climb apex. Besides spectacular views, the Pylon Lookout has a gift shop and informative mini museum.
Actually, it may be surprising to hear that the construction of the pylons were an afterthought, not part of the original bridge design. This was an aesthetic improvement, meant to give the bridge a greater image of foundational stability and strength. Structural integrity is best when visually represented, right? Forget the engineers’ thumbs up of approval! These concrete and granite structures appear as anchors for the iron arch, like four enduring bookends to a significant Sydney story. When looking at the silhouette of the Harbour Bridge, it’s difficult to visualize its existence without the pylons.
A sunset silhouette of the powerful pylon.
Though decorative in its intentions, the pylons proved useful, serving as a lookout (obviously), museum, exhibition center, traffic authority headquarters, ventilation system, and maintenance shed. During WWII the pylons even earned their battle scars when defensive anti-aircraft guns were installed.
My favorite use, however, occurred during the 1950s and 1960s when Yvonne Rentoul managed the exhibits. Mrs. Rentoul, who may be the cat’s meow of all crazy cat ladies south of the equator, maintained a cattery on the pylon rooftop, where she bred her famous “Pylon White Cats.” This feline feature included a merry-go-round (for the cats, of course) and a wishing well. These white cats guarded visitors’ wishes with their courageous claws and righteous whiskers. Two tickets to this attraction, please? Sounds like a purrfect time.
Okay, now that I’ve solidified my reputation as a cat lady…
To me (and my wallet), the Pylon Lookout is worth a visit. It is a structure that will truly make you feel on top of the world.
That beautiful Sydney Opera HouseCircular Quay and a downtown Sydney horizonHappy sailboats in Sydney HarbourPylon Lookout signs of yesteryear.Learning at the Pylon Lookout museum.Flags of Australia and the UK waving proudly at the peak.Greetings from the top of the world!
Kookaburra sits on the old gum tree, Merry merry king of the bush is he. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, Gay your life must be!
If you just read the above words to no tune, I apologize to your childhood for missing out. I think I knew the kookaburra song before I knew Australia existed. And once I was cognizant of Australia’s existence, there were always three songs in my musical repertoire to represent the country: Waltzing Matilda, “The Veranda Song“, and the Kookaburra Song.
Naturally, it was my childhood expectation to see this bird, that infamous Giant Kingfisher known as the kookaburra – in the wild AND laughing – should I ever visit the land down under.
I didn’t think this was too much to ask for. (more…)
The next day we nursed broken hearts and fed addictions at the Indy Chocolate Fest. Who cares that it was in Indy – chocolate is chocolate (though it did benefit the arts in local Indy schools. +1 for altruism). I was reminded about how delicious macaroons are (my first & last was in Paris), tasted chocolate beer, licked Gorgonzola-pecan ice cream, munched on chocolate treats/candied popcorns and really enjoyed a belt-loosening chocolate buzz.
