Round Two - One Gypsy's Definition of Adventure

You are in for a real treat today! I'm posting twice in one day! A real two for one special. :)
Actually I have been writing most of my "blogs" in my journal so they are ready when I have time to sit down and type them out. This is one of those times.
We've been staying in the coastal town of Airlie Beach since last Thursday or Friday, I forget...It took us 14 hours via bus to get here which made for one long night. After hopping from hostel to hostel we have finally settled for a few days in the Koala Hostel here in town. It's a good place with nice open grounds and the rooms are in their own little bungalows with a mini-fridge and an en suite bathroom. Lisa and I have taken on roles as working class individuals for 3 hours a day cleaning toilets and hotel rooms here on site. Three hours gets you a free nights stay and a free meal - not a bad deal. It's a good way to pass some time as well. Airlie is a small town. Most everyone comes here to get on board a sailing boat headed for the Whitsundays - beautiful islands just off the Great Barrier Reef. That's what we came for as well but found all the boats booked until this Wednesday so we extended our stay.
All that blabbing was to give you a bit of a background for today's final post. So without further adieu...

A while back, my friend Rose said to me "Ah, that's travel for ya..." She was referring to one of those times when travel becomes tedious and frustrating. Those inevitable moments when nothing goes right and (it seems) no one speaks your language. Those moments are definitely out there, part of every traveler's experience, but that phrase - Ah, that's travel - has two sides to it. A simple change in tone and suddenly you are talking about the discovery and uniqueness of travel - those other moments, the ones you talk about for years, the ones you compare with fellow travelers around hostel tables or at bus stations and airports the world over. These are the moments that answer that unavoidable question "Why are you travelling?" It's a question that has no singular verbal answer but one that brings to mind a million seemingly unrelated moments. This is one of those moments, one of my answers to that question.

It's a day as humid as it is hot. The air is still with brief breezes that make you smile for the joy of that momentary relief. We've been this way on several occasions in our short stay in Airlie Beach - once for a run, once to visit a grocery store that turned out to be closed for Good Friday. It's that grocery store that takes us this way again. It's a 5 km walk roundtrip along the boardwalk passing extravagant sail boats docked or moored in turquoise waters, calm and inviting. The fact that no one is swimming in those waters gives the ocean here a certain untouchable mystique. We walk slowly in the heat, savoring shade and breezes alike.
The outrigger glides into view. This is a narrow hulled canoe long enough for 6 people to sit in, and for good reason as it usually takes all 6 people working in unison to get it and keep it moving. This outrigger is noticeably different in several ways. It has an obvious homemade quality about it. The hull is fiberglass, yes, but the rigging is painted bamboo strapped together in an odd, helter-skelter pattern. But the most obvious difference is that there is only one person in the canoe. He wears a bright yellow tank top and well-worn Panama Jack hat. It's obvious by his tanned and toned body that he is not new at this singular steersman/paddler role. His movements are fluid and calculated.
We watch with interest. Having spent some quality time in outriggers ourselves we decide that this singular man steering his way towards us is either crazy or brilliant. He calls out and we wander over to his canoe to chat. Our conversation follows a natural course - Did we paddle? Yes - in Hawaii. Where were we walking to? The grocery store near Cannonvale beach. Did we want to paddle down there and save us time and get out on the water? Yes. Of course.
We climb aboard. He has only one extra paddle so we take turns paddling from the first seat. He tells us about the area - how some big storms blew through a month back running several boats aground in the mangrove trees we were paddling past. We paddled closer to see their sinking hulls and to get glimpses of the sea turtles that frequent the area.
His homemade rigging of bamboo was perfect to stand on he says. We can get a higher perspective of the glassy water we are gliding through. We stood in turns balancing ourselves with the ebb and flow of the canoe's movements. Standing there on a homemade outrigger in Australia with an eccentric local playing tour guide and enjoying the warmth of the brilliant sun, I had to smile. Ah, that's travel for ya...
Our guide let me steer giving me pointers on how to control the boats movements instead of reacting to them. He was one of those guys whose exact age is hard to pinpoint. 40? 50? He was slightly eccentric talking of grand plans and ancient techniques. He had a deep seeded belief in being connected to the ocean and it's benefits not only physically but spiritually. He was Maori but had been in Australia for 15 years. He talked of business plans, environmental concerns, steering techniques. I loved every minute of it. He was like those distant figures from my paddling days in Hawaii - older Hawaiian guys that sat in circles I was never going to be part of sharing stories without saying a word, a language of the ocean etched in their tanned faces.
From our guides boat the ocean became a living thing, a part of life, more than just a background for photos and postcards. The stories and commentary brought the area to life as well. A reminder that there is more here than backpackers and tourist sites.
It's often debated what the difference is between a traveler and a tourist. For my part, I believe it has less to do with the number of days you spend on the road or the luxuries you allow yourself on the way and more to do with your definition of adventure and experience. To the tourist, adventure can be bought in a package deal found on a glossy brochure. To the traveler adventure has no price tag and is a sense of expectation in small every day events. Adventure to the traveler is something you create - its the way you frame the event, not the event itself. Adventure can be found in the grocery store line, the menu of a local restaurant, bathroom stalls the world over or, in this case, the hull of a ramshackle canoe. Adventures are those moments that answer the questions of why and that make you pause to say "Ah, that's travel for ya..."

May you find your own adventures.

Love from the road...