Hafeezur Rahman Malik
Mr. Hafeezur Rahman is a retired Development Banking Specialist now whiling away his time teaching and travelling. His email contact is: hafeez@khi.comsats.net.pk
"Twelve thousand kilometers on buses in 40 days!! Are you crazy?" shouted my friend, Zahid, when he saw my travel plans for Australia. He was right. The information I had gathered from Greyhound Pioneer was staggering. It would take at least 190 hours (roughly 8 days) of bus riding round the clock.
I have faced it before. Of course, there is a price to be paid: your neck stiffens, shoulders ache, back pains and ass burns. A night journey brings even more miseries: hostels' check-out time at 11:00 AM or earlier meaning that you have to drag your gear until you board the bus in the evening. This is followed by a sleepless night. More troubles are in store as one arrives at a new place in the early hours only to find that a bed or room is not available until after 12 o'clock.
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I was warned about Australia being quite expensive. So, scraping together all my sources, I collected US$ 3,000 to cover the tour costs. In addition, I had access to another US$ 3,000 through Cash / Credit Cards. With light luggage, high spirits and deep pockets, I landed at Kingsford-Smith Airport, Sydney on 28th of June 2003.
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"Have you any food with you", an Immigration officer asked me. When I showed him a small packet of cheese, pinched away from the airline breakfast tray, he directed me to the Red Channel. I had to wait for a while as the line was progressing slowly. When my turn came, I laid down all I had on the table, piece by piece. A lady customs officer looked at them and threw away the cheese instantly. When she went for my medicine box, my heart sank. "What is this for?" she enquired picking up a wrapper of Zoften. "It is anti-allergy medicine for sinus, ma'am," I told her pointing to my stuffed nose to establish that I was bona-fide. She smiled and cleared me. Once out of the terminal, I took a sigh of relief. I was in Australia, a dream had come true.
Over the next 40 days, I covered 12,900 miles traveling to Brisbane, the Gold Coast, Cairns, Mount Issa, Darwin, Kakadu Park, Ayers Rock, Kings Canyon, Alice Spring, Coober Pedy, Melbourne and, by ship, to Tasmania. I returned home 3 kg and US$ 4,000 lighter. Never before have I spent so much on my annual tours. I could not have done if for less as I was already living on the edge: staying in dorms and traveling on night-buses to save on room rent. I tried other ways, too. I stayed free of charge with my nephew in Sydney. But, eventually, it proved futile. His three kids forced me to take them to the zoo, aquarium and Olympic Park where tickets alone were in the vicinity of $100 each time. As a grand father, I could not have escaped.
Cost and fatigue aside, my travel in Australia was very successful. I was able to move as I liked. Firstly, it is very safe country. Secondly, there is a variety of transport everywhere. Thirdly, all were time-conscious with the exception of just one occasion when a boat, "Spirit of Tasmania" stopped midway in the Bass Strait for about four hours. This was compensated with a sumptuous breakfast next day. On another occasion, a bus broke down but an alternate bus was provided within half an hour. By taking a shorter route, it arrived in Sydney on schedule. Food was always good, fresh and dandy. Food courts in railway stations and bus centres remained opened 24 hours daily. So too did chain stores like Coles and 7-Eleven. Prices were fixed and well displayed. Chances of being cheated were remote.
The Greyhound Bus staff was well-informed and well-mannered. At one time, I was going up to the Kings Canyon. It was a steep ascent. I felt pain and stiffness in my legs and had to take a break occasionally. I found the Greyhound driver trailing two steps behind me all the time to extend a helping hand should I stumble.
It provided me with an opportunity to see tropical wetlands, rain forests, coral reefs, red-soiled deserts, ghost towns, road trains, ant hills and mighty rocks changing colour at sunrise and sunset. Above all, I found people friendly, informal and helpful.
Though the trains, throughout the country, are perfectly safe, all stations had marked areas for waiting at night. Taxis have glass partitions separating drivers from passengers though muggings or hold ups are unheard of. The public toilets have condom dispensers and bins for the disposal of syringes. I never saw a junkie or love displays on the streets. These were indeed precautionary steps taken by the government to forestall the decay in morality which other western countries are going through.
I will devote time in narrating my visit to all the 14 places, one by one.
HRM
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