I’m starting my set of Aussie prints inspired by our trip down unda.’  Here’s the start of one…

So cute: my client and friend Collen Attara sent me a lovely sign she made. I quote: “All are cut out of scrap plastics and reused acrylic signs.  They are all painted with mistake paint.  rejected things shine so brightly…yes?”  So creative and fun; the script is so pretty!

When we first read about Uluru, it seems that most people find it smaller than they thought it would be.  For me, it was the opposite.  The thing is giant.  It’s almost scary when you drive up and it’s looming there in the distance, getting bigger and bigger.

Some people choose to climb it (what?!?!) against the wishes of the Anangu people, but I don’t know why on earth you’d want to.  Apparently about 40 people have died trying it.

We did one of many walks you can take part in around the rock.  The Mala walk is one of the shorter ones, but if you want, you can do the entire 4 hour base hike that takes you all around the rock.

The surface is pitted and scarred when you get up close.  There are also lots of caves and shallow passages.

As the sun came out properly, the sky turned a heavenly blue color – all light and dappled with clouds.

We loved it!

Afterwards we went to the Anangu Cultural Centre – you aren’t allowed to take photos since the centre is on a sacred site, but I did find this beauty in the parking lot:

Petey tried to eat Uluru.

We headed back to the Lost Camel Hotel which has some curiously Michael Graves-y 90s details.  It’s sort of “desert chic” I think.

Kata Tjuta, (“many heads”) is the Anangu people’s name for this astounding stone range in the red center of Australia.  As we approached it on a cloudy day, the mystery of the range was really intense.  Usually it’s red hot as well as just plain red here.

It’s hard to tell in these photos, but the stones are HUGE.  Take a look at the scale below. The tiny person who tread off the path is ringed in red:

The colors here are lovely.  Red dirt and stones, pale gray-green leaves, and black bark.  Usually, there’s also a desert-blue sky.

We rented a car from Thrifty – how sexy is that?  I love how the name is plastered across the car – let’s just advertise how cheap we are.

We walked the Walpa Gorge and the 2nd lookout at the Valley of the Winds.  Total walking/hiking: about 3 hours.

Check out these action shots!

Within the park, the scenery is sometimes breathtaking – trite, but true!  I am really amazed by some places in the world.  It’s hard to believe we were here and saw all of this.

Petey forged on to the 2nd lookout after I refused this steep climb.  He did so good! He went up like a spider and came down on his little bottom!

The morning we were bound for Lae (right above the “A” in “Papua” above), we arrived early to the PMV stop at the market in Goroka and got in as one of the first people there. That would usually be a good thing, but not in this case. We circled and circled until we filled EVERY available seat and then also all the center aisle seats that appeared out of nowhere. It took nearly two hours and Peter and I were getting really annoyed since we had an additional 5 hours for the trip itself.

*Buai is Betel Nut.  Yuck.

We arrived in Lae with sore bottoms and legs and asked to be dropped off at the Melanesian Hotel. Good thing we did. Driving through the city it looked dilapidated and a little scary; we had heard that raskols are most prevalent in Lae and Moresby. And even if nothing bad happened, it’s so sprawling that our hotel would have been a long hot walk.

The one thing we wanted to do in town was to see the Unitech Rainforest Habitat where there are supposed to be tree kangaroos, cuscuses, birds of paradise, and a cassowary or two. As usual, the infrastructure is so poor that we found it pretty impossible to get there. There aren’t any taxis, PMVs don’t go there often, and if we hired a private security vehicle to take us, it would be $80 each! So, we stayed in for the last day in PNG and watched cable.

*These animal photos are not mine!

The tree kangaroo

The spotted cuscus

Some birds of paradise:

And the cassowary:

After the full week in PNG, we had gotten pretty frustrated. Tourism is pretty non-existent, traveling is an ordeal, and prices are high. It’s difficult to know what to do since there’s really nothing set up to sight-see and if there is, it’s not even guaranteed to be open. Basically, Papua New Guinea is a third world country with first world prices.

The next day we took 2 flights out of PNG, stayed the night at the Cairns airport, and then took another 2 flights to Ayers Rock Airport so we can finish the last leg of our journey: Uluru and Kata Tjuta National Park in the Red Center. I’m looking forward to seeing Aboriginal artwork and the unusual desert landscape.

Okay, here’s where it gets real.  We started out with great intentions of going on a relaxing nature walk in the Goroka area with a local reputable guide.  Mr. Kay Nupore had checked in with our guesthouse for any interest and tracked us down at the hotel.  I think we were pretty easy to identify – we were the only white tourists in town! He told us he would bring us on a nature walk with a traditionally prepared lunch, but left the more detailed description open-ended.

*Betel nut seller – this stuff is like gum in PNG, but it has a little fun in it and turns your teeth bright red.

The next day, he picked us up as promised outside the town hotel and brought his sweet wife and understudy son.  We had the usual awkward “we don’t quite understand eachother” conversations in the village PMV and arrived in good spirits.

The trek began well, wandering through the village up a rough road and getting a taste of village life on the way.  Kay taught us some interesting local customs (the meaning in how women wear their bags, kids games, etc.) and let us try sugar cane from a nearby field.  Pretty cool.

However, I began wondering about the promised lunch around noon, and nothing ever came of it.  After two hours of climbing, we still weren’t anywhere near the top, and had I known we were in for a 6 hour hike I’d have quit right there!  It seriously seemed ENDLESS.

Each turn in the road only revealed more steep rocky road to climb, and that was just the way up.  What had the intention of being a fun time was more reminiscent of a death march – we had no idea where we were going, how long it would take, and if we’d ever eat again.

We got to the point where things leveled off in the rainforest, and for a while, the situation seemed pretty good.  Kay and his son made me a pretty flower crown and we stopped for a rest under an open hut before the real muddy climb began.

*Edible mushrooms that Kay found for his dinner later.

I started getting pissed when my shoes filled with mud while climbing the last 40 minutes.  The mediocre view at the end didn’t really help.  Then, there was the way down.  Of course it started raining, and after a couple of slushy steps I gave up and took my shoes off.  They had to go back on once we hit the rocky road again.  After the two slippery hours it took to get down I had really had enough nature for one day.

Today was our sightseeing day around Goroka. We started with a walk through the park to get to the McCarthy Museum in the residential area.

At first the shabby outside and pathetic information room (with inkjet printouts of a recent exhibit in Australia and several laminated posters of history) made me wonder if the trip had been worthwhile, but once we got to the first artefact room my mind was changed for the better. The collection contained all sorts of fascinating tribal weapons, masks, pots, and daily-life accoutrements from regions in the Highlands and the Sepik River as well as some of the islands. The very cool color combinations (favorite: turquoise, red, and cream) and geometric patterns were right up my alley.

*These two images above were found online since we couldn’t take photos in the museum.  They’re very similar in style to what was in the McCarthy. (I couldn’t find the photo credits on either, but these are not my photos.  Thank you to whoever took them!  Please let me know if you find these and I’ll give credit.)

Also, I was amazed to see the bark string that women used to make traditional billum bags that expand as needed, sometimes to an enormous size, and are made from one continuous string woven in and out in completion for each loop. They’re very strong and beautiful, and the craft is still in use today but updated with modern acrylic yarn.

After lunch at a greasy kai bar and a 2 hour nap (these days all the stress of walking, getting stared down constantly, and the repetitive “good morning” greeting tire me out!) we were back on for some more adventure.

We headed out in the opposite direction to the Raun Raun theatre. This building is built like a traditional round hut and is very unique looking. The thatched roof is just awesome to see – what a skill.

At dinner later, I opened my can of tuna, and I don’t think I’ll buy canned fish here again. Call me spoiled, but I miss American flake tuna. This was a mix of parts and was all ground up with what I’m guessing is organ meat. The smell was a little much even for this tinned-fish lover. However, all was not lost! We enjoyed a big cup of noodles and a coke from the Sen Ta Maket (can you guess the English version?) for dinner. Tomorrow we’re off on a nature walk and potential village visit with a local guide.

In the morning, we took our first long-distance PMV. The much larger minibus took us in and was mostly full, but we still circled for about 45 minutes to get to capacity.  You have to pack those things up!  Once on the one-and-a-half lane “highway” road, the driver gunned it at around 75mph past people sitting on the roadside, pigs wandering around, and a blur of villages.

Then we hit the climb.  Sometimes we were in the “little PMV that could” chugging up the rocky mountainous road, and then on the other side, the PMV turned into a roller-coaster.  I was so glad I dug up some seatbelts for us.

Along the roadside we took a bathroom break and I think I caused a chuckle or two in the PMV by joining right in.  Luckily this bladder isn’t shy. There’s a strange mix here of pee-in-the-bushes wildness and dumpy sack-dress conservatism.   I do like that people don’t worry about dirt, though.  It’s refreshing to be able to take your shoes off on the bus and let it hang out a little.

*Uh-oh, they don’t look too happy!

We arrived in Goroka right on schedule (4 hour journey) and found a room at the Lutheran Guesthouse.  This double twin-bed room really sets the mood for our Honeymoon!  Concessions aside, we’re saving some money, so we’re relieved.  A grocery trip into town later we got our dinner: instant noodles, a roll of Oreos, and a bottle of coke.  Coke and Kai please!

The town is much more relaxed than Mt.Hagen and one guy even offered to pose with me for a photo!  Love it!  (Also pictured: some design inspiration from the Bird of Paradise Hotel.)

Funny culture item: last night, before leaving from Mt.Hagen, I started looking through the phone book.  I found some ads for this weird phone thing that I had seen lots of people toting at the market.  Apparently it’s some sort of cellular phone/internet device!

Arriving in Mt.Hagen’s “airport” was one of those culture-shock moments.  A tall steel fence with the usual barbed-wire and razor-wire combo we’d gotten used to in Port Moresby with people pressed up against the fence serves as “arrivals.” We, the passengers, are allowed through, but no traffic the other way.  Once Peter and I walked
into the crowd, everyone stared straight at us and smiled while parting the way.  I felt like an exotic oddity – totally strange feeling!  The older people in particular wanted to shake our hands and wish us a Happy New Year.  Sweet ones.  They muttered amongst themselves after – maybe they said something like “she must have been called “Powder” in highschool!”

Our ride into town was in a packed solid PMV (a minibus that makes regular inexpensive trips for locals) where a set of lovely ladies gave us good advice and even helped reduce our fare!  They were so friendly and helpful – I read in the guidebook that Melanesian people tend to be this way, and it’s most likely not personal, but it sure is nice.

We stayed for 2 nights in the Hotel Kimininga which is surprisingly expensive for its motel feel. They have some dead flattened birds of paradise in the lobby – maybe that’s the closest we’ll get toseeing any real ones!

An evening of rain (again!) and a later-than-I’d-like start to the day made me eager to get to the real Mt Hagen and culture of the PNG highlands.  We walked into town and, OMG, I don’t think any of these pictures will really capture the filth, and poverty, and at the same time, the beautiful colors and sweet, very decent people that are both part of the market atmosphere.  Lots of bare feet everywhere, but then, that was a pretty common sight in Australia too.

After the crazy culture shock of the market, we went into a more familiar type of market – the renbow stoa (rainbow store!) that’s a sort of department store that smells of cheap plastic goods up top and a supermarket specializing in cuts of meat I’d never heard of, tinned fish, colorful bars of soap, instant noodles and coffee,  and, of course, cola down stairs.

*a 10 toia piece (PNG cents) with the cuscus on it!

It’s always hard to know what a new place will be like.  No amount of reading or looking at photos can really prepare you.  I will say one thing, though: if you come to PNG, get your smile ready and make sure you’re not too self-conscious.  Once we arrived, people stared like they’d never seen anything like us before!  I don’t think that’s true, of course, but being an oddity makes any hope of “blending in” really impossible.  I had even bought a dumpy skirt to fit in a little better to this conservative society, but I don’t think it would matter much if we were completely naked.

Port Moresby, our first stop and the Capital city, is known for “raskols,” your common violent city thugs.  Our guide book is from the 70s, and incredibly, still pretty relevant;  we had read that raskols target people at night and that foreigners are in danger, but local people are definitely also at risk, women particularly. It seems that every house and business is surrounded by tall fences and razor-wire.

This is a stark contrast to some of the colorful tribal outfits that we all associate with the country.  You just never hear about the poverty part on a tourism site, I guess!

Since our plans changed last minute when our flight was canceled, we could only find book-able lodging at the fanciest hotel in town, the Ela Beach Hotel.  It was $150 per night, and much more plush than we’d even want.  Lots of locals came to the restaurant, apparently the most popular place to eat in town.  We loved it;  best pizza I’d had in a while for sure.

*The bank building down town.  The outside is covered in PNG style stucco “carvings.”

*an ad in Tok Pisin, the PNG Pidgin!

*a huge Bird of Paradise in one of the city round-abouts.

The following morning, we went to New Year’s Day Mass at St. Mary’s Cathedral, and we were lucky enough to catch the Pidgin service.  Wow, as interesting as it was to hear this PNG language, Mass can be boring no matter where you are in the world  ;)  We hung
around after to meet the Priest, Fr. Damien Kosmo, and he told us that just this past year he had been to Philadelphia!  What??  Then we remembered that we had actually been at one of his masses at St.Rita’s – unbelievable!

The rain came down that day and we stayed in watching TV to get a good dose of American culture (I miss it so much!!) until our flight out to Mt. Hagen in the Higlands.