“Hey, I’m walking here! I’m walking here!”
(Who knows what movie that famous line — delivered in a New York accent — comes from?)
These exact words kept running through my head whenever I went “hiking” in Australia. Although, I guess there’s a reason they mostly call it bushwalking here.
And let me tell you, my legs sure looked like it — all scratched up — because I stubbornly refuse to wear anything other than shorts unless it drops below 10 degrees.
You see, I’m used to hikes (or walks, if you prefer) that come with some serious elevation gain and mountains towering around me. In the area I am in, there are neither mountains — barely even hills — nor any noticeable elevation to climb.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the wide openness, especially at sunrise or sunset. But in between… I miss having a view of something — anything.
Even the bushwalks along the coast are amazing and beautiful, but after a while, a little repetitive. (Oh dear, this sounds extremely pessimistic. Please don‘t get me wrong – this is complaining on the highest level. Technically unnecessary. Excuse me.)
In the end, all you really see is the coastal strip and the ocean — always mesmerizing and breathtaking, but rarely changing. Water. Sand or rocks. Then land, usually lined with trees.
The ocean, for me, has always been where I go to find myself again — to find peace and quiet. Any body of water soothes me, but the ocean has a special kick to it: unpredictable, ever-changing, and deep in ways you can’t fully see or understand.
That’s why I like to keep it a special place. Anyway.
I’d gone on a few bushwalks so far, and every time I came back with scratched shins and thighs — but my stubborn ass still refused to wear long pants (and probably always would).
On my last walk, I even managed to get lost because the trail on my map was so overgrown it didn’t exist anymore. I spent a good hour wandering through grass, bushes, and trees taller than me, before finally backtracking the way I came.
So yeah… some of these trails could really use a bit of maintenance. Maybe a trail crew or two.
And yes, I am still a little nervous about stumbling across a snake or a spider — big or small. My knowledge of these creatures and their varying degrees of poison is basically nonexistent. Is it deadly? Just a mild paralysis? Or only a little itch? Who knows? Not me.
And, let’s just say, my first-aid kit is about as unprepared as I am. I definitely have some reading up to do. But you know what? So far, nothing bad has happened. And I hope it stays that way.
I can‘t wait to do more walking and hiking — especially some overnight hikes once spring and summer rolls around. Maybe even something with a bit of elevation gain.
I wonder what the biggest “mountain” in Australia, Mt Kosciuszko, has to offer — sitting at a proud 2,228 metres in the Australian Alps.
Who would’ve thought?That might actually be worth hiking.
On another note, I am really enjoying having brought my road bike with me. I’ve been on a few rides already and mostly enjoyed them. And who would’ve guessed it was cheaper to pack my bike and bring it to Australia than to check another suitcase weighing ten kilos?
(Huge shoutout to the entire Blaschke family for showing me how to take the bike apart, put it back together, and for lending me that fancy travel bag designed just for two wheels.)
After mountain biking through Canada the last two years, road cycling is a completely different game — and challenge. It is all about distance and endurance now — keeping pace and cadence.
No adrenaline rush, just that sweet, steady rhythm… more of a “runner’s high,” if you will. Anyway, I won’t bore you with the details. Let’s just say I enjoy it and hope to meet some like-minded folks around here.
I am also keen to finally get into the water and start surfing — or maybe even get back to wing foiling somewhere. But that isn‘t something I want to do alone.I am fully aware of everything that could go wrong out there. Better safe than sorry.
So yeah — plenty of activities already happening and plenty more planned.
I’ll keep you posted.
Stay tuned for more. So long!
marie louise travels 