Four weeks ago I was in New York City. Where anything is possible. It seems true still, that old cliché. After three months in that glorious city, I can say that it was there for the taking. A bit of talent, a lot of drive and just a modicum of luck, and you can make it.  I was at the end of my stay, and I still did not know what I wanted from old Gotham. I had gone to just live there for a while, and to try my hand as a photographer, after chasing the fashion photography idea for about eighteen months prior.  I suppose you could say it was a mixture of success and failure. Success – I had successfully captured the interest of one of the biggest modeling agencies in town and had done several test shoots with their models. Failure – it had not gone further. At least that city leaves you in no doubt as to who is to blame. Just yourself. I did not try hard enough, and that’s just a fact.

I had been wracking my brain over the last few weeks of my stay as to what I was going to do when I got back to Australia. Was I now a ‘Photographer’? Did I return to photography as my ‘career’? And what photographs would I take anyway? Did I continue to pursue fashion? Or did I take it elsewhere, to where a niggling part of my brain shouted ‘Fine Art!’? The last thing I expected from nearly five months of travel around the world was to find myself less sure of things than when I left. I think I had an idea of finding a place to live that could double as a small studio, buying a car that could take me places, and then embarking on little artistic and photographic sojourns into Australia’s heart. Not its arid desert heart, as so many others have done, but its human-altered heart. The landscapes scarred by our short time here; the imprints of human existence here and the signals of hope for the future.  I would return to Perth first, establish some itinerant contract work in geology, my actual profession, to pay the bills, and then head off to where the story would take me.

Just as becoming a famous fashion photographer in New York City was slightly over-ambitious and doomed to be the subject of reality kicking in, soon my new-but-dubious plans would take a turn. My Mother had become very ill suddenly in my last week in the Big Apple. I nearly had to come home early, which could never have meant good things. Her promise of recovery fortunately allowed me to stay on schedule, and the next week I flew back to Australia. However, I flew back to Victoria, to be with my Mother and Stepfather through her recovery and to help around home.

Two weeks at home I spent. My Mother was making an exceptional recovery, and we talked. She enjoyed my tales of New York, but also suggested to me that she had always seen me in Academia. I scoffed at first (almost a reflex action it is, to take the opposite argument to Mum!). But I knew she was right. The problem was how? Sure I am a geologist, but is that where I want to be? So to humor my Mum and myself, I looked around at the universities that had geological research groups. I came across the Australian National University’s Research School of Earth Sciences, ranked 8^th in the World in schools of geology. And low and behold, I rediscovered that I am actually interested in geology. Years of working for mining companies doing day-to-day stuff had masked my intrinsic interest and caused me to become cynical. Yet there I was, still interested in how mountains got there, how volcanoes happened, and how this planet got to look like it does.

Further inquiry put me in touch with a Professor with some very interesting projects on this topic, and sooner that I would have imagined, I was flying to Canberra for a two-day visit to speak with him and look at the work his group was doing. All this in the middle of my two weeks at home.  Whilst there, I found myself reconnected with the science and soon I was agreeing not only to pursue research towards a PhD, but also being offered some work as a research assistant to the group.

To call this unexpected, in the context of my final weeks in New York, would be an understatement. I am a mixture of fear and hope; fear as to whether I still have this in me, can I actually be that geologist again? Hope – a part of me, deep inside, just knows that this is right. There is a match here. But it is all quite sudden, and I am hopeful I can make it work.

So here I am, in a tiny holiday apartment in Perth, with its delightful view over the Mitchell Freeway (with the lights of the Perth central business district behind), writing this. I am here again, but this time to tie up loose ends, collect some of my things that I left behind when I last left Perth, to pack for Canberra.

This is ‘goodbye Perth’. Thinking about that is troubling. I don’t think I am ready. I’ll inevitably still be leaving possessions behind. Most of all, I leave important people behind. People who had no idea I was leaving for so long six months ago and who doubly did not anticipate me leaving again permanently. The sadness this leaves in me is a quixotic sadness – there comes a point where you simply cannot allow that kind of thinking to dictate your movements in life. As it stands, I have no particular commitments to people or possessions. Perth has been a fantastic episode in life. When I return to Melbourne on the weekend, I will collect my car, place two to three suitcases worth of belongings into it, and drive to Canberra. My life, wholly contained within that automobile, tied down to nowhere.

Yet still, like Fitzgerald’s boats against the current, we cannot escape our past and must find ways to connect our future to the present and drag that history along with us. Nothing is ever really left behind, and I will return to Perth, at least in spirit, just as landing at Tullamarine Airport in Melbourne always feels like coming home. We must not romanticize what was or could be, lest we make the mistake of drawing a line directly from the past into the future, bypassing the present. To do that is to get lost in the green light, and to have no future at all.

Adieu Perth.

Sabah

Malaysia is a conglomerate of states, and its eastern part lies on the island of Borneo; Borneo, home to legends of jungle safaris, colonial heritage, long houses, rainforest. Our first stop after leaving KL took us to Kota Kinabalu in Sabah. Sabah is best known as a diving destination, with world famous coral reefs dotted around its eastern shores. Lately that part of Sabah has become slightly more renowned for kidnappings and other disconcerting crimes. We weren’t going to concern ourselves with that though, opting to stay in Kota Kinabalu for several days to simply breath in the Borneo city’s air.

That air, it has to be said, especially near the fishing docks, is not particularly nice. Like many parts of south-east Asia, good sewerage and waste control comes at a premium, and one has to get used to the occasional waft of garbage, and that’s before you go into the fruit markets and smell the durian fruit, which whilst apparently very tasty, smells like week-old garbage and other rotting horrors. That smell permeates the air in markets, and as a traveller, you never quite get used to it.

Kota Kinabalu is mainly a fishing village, which has become a launching pad for tourists. The second biggest city by population in eastern Malaysia, it is going through a mini boom as a combination of greater urbanisation and increased tourism helps the generally advancing Malaysian economy. It has the usual throng of markets and food stalls, but it doesn’t feel very touristy, probably because many use it only as a stop-off before going to the wilder parts of Sabah and Borneo. We, on the other hand, were looking to stay a few more days and explore this city for what it is. And there are some delights here, particularly because you only need to walk (or get a taxi) just out of town to be in the midst of jungle and mangrove flats. Several days were spent just meandering around, between the beautiful seaside vista and the swamps and jungle.

We were, however, both quite sick, air travel and foreign places had caught up with us and we both had a nasty flu… mine decided to progress to my chest, making for a very unpleasant couple of days. Even in the face of such adversity, we still managed to enjoy a cocktail in the setting sun overlooking the South China Sea.

The local markets are fascinating, and one of their features is cats. Lots of them. Also kittens. They are very cute, and friendly. ‘Kucing’ in Bahasa (pronounced ‘koo-ching’), the local feline population always seems to be bordering on starvation, yet, the locals respect them and provide for them. It’s not hard to end up with a kitten or two wrapped around your ankles, mewing and purring, and generally being adorable. I’d suggest a disinfectant gel for after the cuddle time though!

One of the joys of travel is having the time to walk long distances without any particular goal. Sometimes, you set out with a destination in mind, perhaps even a map, and get lost in the sights and sounds, forgetting what you originally planned. For us, we’d set out to get to a beachside part of KK that was perhaps only a few kilometres away in a straight line. There was, however, a harbour and golf course in the way. Being the clever people we are, with our smartphones and maps, we just knew we could take a scenic route along the coast that might even be a short cut. Suffice to say, we saw a lot of that golf course, in fact, we walked all the way around its perimeter. What was to be a one hour walk quickly morphed into a 4 hour epic. By the end of it, my flu was completely cured. I had nothing left. The beachside village was beautiful though, and that part of town had an extra surprise in store: the Musical Fountain at Perdana Park! Just when south east Asia was starting not to surprise… this place fell somewhere between total kitsch and spectacular. Just another one of those sights that I’m sure the local tourist authorities are spectacularly proud of whilst the cynical tourist might have a little giggle. I would post photos, but I can’t do much better than this youtube video:

Our stay in KK drew to an end and we prepared to take a ferry to Brunei, the independent Sultanate famous for its oil wealth and strict regime. I’d recommend the ferry as a means of getting from KK to Brunei, as it avoids countless border checks, although the ferries are a little old and the view is not so good as you’re inside the whole time (and its not good if you suffer motion sickness, something I fortunately avoid). We knew that the madness and randomness of SE Asia would take a pause in the conservative and rich Brunei, an even more strongly Islamic nation than Malaysia. We would not be disappointed there…

Drifting through Strawberry Fields. The ground shimmers with the spirit of a thousand poets. Bubbles and petals meander in the dancing breeze. Cherry blossom on the bough, stone sparkles; I roam, snaring life millisecond at a time.

Malaysia:-

Kuala Lumpur, Capital. I did not know what to expect, mainly because I’d really planned very little for this trip. My only real impression of KL prior was the Petronas Towers, twin monoliths to the power of the State’s Oil and Gas Company. Temporarily the tallest buildings in the world, now relegated to fifth place, long behind the enormous Burj Kalifa in Dubai. In fact, Malaysia was not even going to be in my plans originally.

I had had some idea of travelling to New York City, and casually becoming a world famous fashion photographer. I’d even gone as far as to quit my well-paid job as an exploration geologist, before I had really even started to make a name for myself in photography. ‘Fortune favours the brave’, they say. I’m not quite sure what they make of the foolhardy. We shall see. I know this much, I am currently unemployed, living off some savings from the aforementioned career, travelling through parts of South-East Asia, as if on just a sight-seeing vacation. I wanted a break from things and where better than a beautiful, exotic part of the world where the accommodation is cheap and the meals even cheaper. I’m better off being unemployed on savings here than back in Australia. Asia is my intermediary, purgatory for my reckless yet conservative sense of adventure. I still think I’ll end up in NYC.

I am travelling with Katie, we’d only met a couple of months earlier, but as she had spent some time in Indonesia doing much the same, it seemed perfect that she come along. Well, I wanted her to. I enjoy her company, and travelling alone, whilst completely free, also lacks a critical reference – that person to point things out to, the person to share it with. Having company helps give you a certain momentum in travel. She will part with me soon to go back to Australia, whereas I really have no intention to go back just yet.  I am not really sure how I feel about that and our imminent departure from each other’s company. Perhaps I shall just have to convince her to return, and soon.

Kuala Lumpur is a city of millions, and like other cities in the region, a sense of complete chaos is regulated by a basic understanding between people that there is a way of doing things that results in the minimum of fuss and injury.  You can cross the road here in the busiest of traffic, just find a lull, make sure the drivers can see you and then get your skates on – easy!

Our first day in KL saw us a little weary from travel. It’s only a five-hour flight from Perth, but we’d had a very early flight and that meant trying to sleep before a three AM wakeup. This plus the general excitement of going away meant that it had been about 36 hours since either of us had got a good night’s sleep.  So after a quiet night in on arrival, we had a late start and just decided to wander about town seeing what it had for us.

One thing this part of the world has is a lot of rain. And like any good tropical climate, this comes in the afternoon, with thunder and lightning. This is wonderful, and both Katie and I are fans of a good storm. However, coming from the perpetual drought of Australia, we perhaps misinterpreted the blue skies in the morning! Needless to say, four PM and we were some distance from our hotel in the pouring rain, dodging wild KL traffic and quickly becoming drenched rats. It was, however, really lovely. Rain here is warm. It’s not the driving chill that you get in Perth or Melbourne. Eventually we made it back and showered and changed for dinner, all just a little thrilled by the experience.

We’d read about KL’s Bird Park, in the part of town where sweeping botanic gardens cover a hill in majesty. Something about these gardens seemed familiar – tree-lined avenues, manicured hedges. Not surprisingly, this huge swathe of green in the middle of the city dates back to the Country’s English Colonial heritage. It was not hard to picture a party of landed gentry, the men in pith helmets, ladies in lace, off for a turn about the gardens before afternoon tea. We, however, were seeking purportedly one of, if not the largest open air, free-flight bird parks in Asia (or was that the World?). Something about tourism drives operators to claim that they are the ‘largest’ or ‘the first’ or some such grand claim with such fervour, that its not uncommon for several places to have tied for first place and also to have miraculously ended up the same ‘biggest’ size. There really ought to be a bureau of major claims for tourist sites, an official register of size and chronology, so as to settle these matters.

KL’s Bird Park, regardless of claims, is impressive; huge structures suspend nets across a forest and park area, keeping all manner of herons, chickens (no, not chickens, ‘Red Jungle Fowl’ – gallus gallus, to be precise), a rather spectacular crimson ibis, flocks of storks and even flamingo. The pride and joy, however, are the hornbills, several species in fact, but lurking in its own enclosure is the most impressive of all, the ground hornbill. This very large bird, with red jowls and striking features sports a truly impressive horned beak, and of all the hornbills, has the prettiest eyelashes! Yes, hornbills have eyelashes. Hornbills in their shape and behaviour hark back to the earliest of birds. The ground hornbill in particular puts you in mind of some of the earliest ground-hunting birds. Some of which reached huge size and roamed the plains of South America, hunting small mammals, in the eons after the reign of the dinosaurs. The hornbills of today, however, prefer the nuts, fruit and berries of their rainforest home.

We escaped the Bird Park, all digits intact, were chased down the hill by yet another storm, and sought refuge in the Central Markets.  Like all markets in this part of the world, there is very little you can’t buy, and the whirlpool of colours and sounds and smells can be disorienting. It takes a moment to get your bearings and to develop a plan. A process that sometimes requires food, for which KL is well equipped. This is the right part of world to be in if you like chicken, and rice. Chicken Rice, the traveller’s friend. This plate of steamed rice, some fried or baked or steamed chicken, some chilli sauce and a little bowl of soup, is ubiquitous. Cost can vary. However, typically such a meal will knock you back some five Ringgit – just under two dollars Australian. And it makes for a quite adequate lunch, or breakfast, or snack, really whenever you’re hungry, chances are you’re within 200 meters of a chicken rice vendor.  Indeed, it’s is hard not to wonder just how many chickens the people of Asia go through, chicken is consumed on a monumental scale here. No wonder they looked a little frightened in the bird park.

That night, as we were trying to sleep in our hotel room adjacent to a busy street and the rail line, we became aware of an incredible racket in the street below. There were people, tens of thousands of them, walking down the road, with the sounds of drums and music ringing through the air. Slipping out to investigate, we found ourselves in the thick of the annual march to the Batu Caves in the north of the city by the local Indian population in celebration of Thiapusam, one the holiest festivals of the year. It is hard to describe the sheer numbers of people, but numbers arriving at the Batu Caves have been estimated at around one million. Certainly by our estimation, in the couple of hours we watched them; at least a couple of hundred thousand walked past, the men and women mostly in traditional formal dress. We didn’t sleep till around three AM after this had mostly died down, and the next day, we ventured to the Batu Caves to see perhaps the greatest throng of humanity you could ever see, again complete with theme park rides and markets, and a truly impassable mass of people climbing the stairs to the caves. The caves would elude us here, simply too many people to navigate in the quest for tourist nirvana. After surveying the scene from the Ferris Wheel, and joining the throng in a search for a cool drink to keep the oppressive heat and humidity at bay, we decided to retreat back to the city and our hotel, exhausted and delighted at the same time.

On our final day in KL, we determined that we would go to see the Petronas Towers. But not before we’d looked through a few of the truly gigantic shopping malls that adorn this city. One such mall, in the ‘Times Square’ building, is enormous. Set on some 9 levels, across what must be acres of shopping space, this mall takes in one step further by having a fully equipped theme park inside. And of course what theme park would be complete without a roller coaster? That’s covered here. Inside the mall, over 4 levels. Quite surreal. In a city seemingly built as a monument to commerce, these malls exemplify the entrepreneurial spirit. Any thing you can want to purchase is there, in multitudinous shops. Individual business and enterprise are clearly a way of life here, effortlessly woven in to the fabric of the city.

Having navigated the malls, the markets, the narrow streets and barely-controlled traffic, we arrived at the famed Petronas Towers. And what a sight they are! Twin monuments of glass and steel, reaching hundreds of meters into the sky. They are triumphs of architecture and engineering, right down to the control of colour and the subtle intricacy of the windows and dressing. Everything is properly in proportion to structure’s huge size, impressing with detail and grandeur. Standing in the water feature area at their entrance, these towers are dizzying to stare up at. Trips to the viewing platforms on the upper floors are strictly controlled, and whilst we thought we’d planned this well, unfortunately visits were closed when we arrived. Sadly, as we were flying out the next morning, the Petronas Towers would keep their inner secrets from us for now. The next day, we flew to Kota Kinabalu, in the Malaysian state of Sabah, on the island of Borneo. There was to begin the next phase of our adventure…