Copacabana

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  Copacabana, Australia
Monday, March 17, 2008

I am writing this a week later.  I actually wrote this up on Monday, spent a good amount of time on this entry, actually.  I've really enjoyed writing.  I've found I have so much to say at times.  Lots of thinking and reflection, which is part of the point of this trip, even more than I expected.  I've wanted to write more, wishing I'd brought my computer with me, as old as it as, and as much as we've fought over the years.  Internet is pricy... So I wrote everything about the weekend and hit the wrong button.  Gone.  How many times have we all done that, right?  Tough lesson, I guess.  So, I am going to give it another go and try to hit the right button today.  I've been a little under the weather all week and feeling a little out of sorts.  It's raining today.  Sort of nice, like when it rains in AZ, you want to get outside because you haven't seen rain in so long. 

Here's Copa:  I was invited to Stewart and Maria's "weekender" in Copacabana, Australia

Sky writing

.  I love the name, and I have to admit, all weekend, I was singing "her name was Lola..." in my head all weekend.  That song holds a very special place in my heart.  First semester of senior year at ASU, my friend Mel Paul and I took Puppety for Youth, a 300 level, 3 credit class taken primarily by Theater majors and Education majors.  I took it because, yes, I wanted to make puppets.  We were made fun of all semester (Tom and Bry!). This was a reality for many of the students in the class.  The other reality was other people would see you creating works of art with felt, glue, warm fuzzies, q-tips, foam, pipe cleaners (you're intrigued, aren't you), more felt, etc. and would want to give it a go.  Our teacher told us, when this happens, simply reply "Take the damn class yourself!"  I kid you not.  One assignment was to make a glove puppet based on a story or poem.  I chose Shel Silverstein's poem about the little girl who wanted a pony.  Mel Paul chose "Copacabana" which was her favorite song.  Not only was her glove puppet by far the best in the whole class,  her presentation was even better.  She got up in front of the class and sang "Copacabana" as her glove puppeted hand acted it out.  And of course, Lola had a yellow feather in her hair.  Love it love it love it, still! 

Ok, so back to my weekend.  I boarded the bus from Coogee to Central and on the way, I saw sky writing

Wax on

.  When I first saw the sky writing, the pilot wasn't quite done, so it just said "Go Goo" which i felt was some kind of omen, because my nieces call me Anntie Goo (or just sometimes Goo, which I love), so it was like a message from them.  Then the pilot finished and it read "Go Goodman."  No clue who Goodman is, but skywriting is pretty cool.  I don't actually know if I've ever seen sky writing before in real life.  When I think of sky writing, I think of "Surrender Dorothy" and that's about it...

The train to Woy Woy Station is just over an hour.  Once out of the immediate suburbs of Sydney, the train winds through the moutains along the Hawkesbury River and it's really breathtaking.  I arrived just after 6pm and Maria and Stewart were waiting for me.  Maria insisted I sit in the front seat so I could have a better view as we drove.  The drive from Woy Woy to Copa is about 20 minutes.  We passed this little boat house with great, big pelicans hanging out on top.  Then through rolling green hills.  It was quaint and lovely.  We passed by the beach front of Copa, which is a long curving beach in between two huge headlands.  It's not a very busy beach, which was nice because I've been staying at Coogee which is a bit touristy.  Many of the homes around Copa, because of all the hills are on stilts or posts.  It's really quite remarkable, actually, that these posts can hold up an entire house

Copacabana Beach

. 

As soon as we arrived at Maria and Stewart's weekender and settled in, Maria offered me a beer and we sat out on the deck in the back and chatted.  Over the course of the weekend, I got the whole story of how Patrick is related to Maria and Stewart, which is a really neat story.  I feel very fortunate to have so many contacts, so many people to meet up with here.  I just love people, hearing their stories, where they come from.  Perhaps because I'm getting older, I've enjoyed spending time with people older than me.  They often have so much life experience, so much to tell, so much to learn from, and are excited to listen to what I have to say.  They make me feel young, and I imagine I do a little of that for them too.  Many of the younger backpackers I've met are still in party mode, which, although I certainly have my moments, I'm not really there any more, haven't been for quite some time.  So, a couple of beers, a nice bottle of wine is really about my speed.  Stewart offered to give me a little intro surfing session on Saturday morning, when the waves are best.  Stewart and Maria were very apologetic that I would most likely be awoken by the kookaburras and the cockatoos.  There also might be possums on the deck or running across the roof.  Stewart showed me some of his old surfing magazines.  It was a very nice, laid back night. 

So, they weren't kidding, I was woken up, around 5:30am to the chirping of a zillion birds

More of Copa

.  I was able to fall back asleep, but these birds do not let up!  I heard a soft knock on my door around 8am.  Stewart offered me some tea, which I take straight up -- no cream or sugar.  I'm not sure who was more excited about surfing, me or Stewart!  Stewart has a collection of about 7 surf boards.  As I understand it, beginners typically learn on a long board, which is usually around 9 feet.  The long board in his collection is an antique really, from the 60s and is much heavier and more awkward than boards made today.  So instead, I was going to get to try learning on an orange 7'2 Wayne Lynch. Stewart and Maria gave me a rash guard to wear with my boardies.  I waxed up the board and we walked up and down hills and a series of 65 steps to the beach.  I totally looked like a real surfer, yo!  Once we checked out the waves from the landing near the road, we headed to the beach.  We got in the water, I worked on paddling, navigating the waves, and balancing on the board.  Speed equals stability, so the harder you paddle, the easier you have it on the board.  I also had to get used to just sitting on the board, balancing and manuvering your hips to navigate the waves (which is really my favorite part).  You do this while you are waiting for the waves, and it's so peaceful.  I felt incredibly comfortable just sitting there, looking out at the water, going over the waves, and occasionally falling off, which is fun too. I also caught a few waves, which is an incredible adrenaline rush and makes you understand why people love surfing so much

Anne and Maria at Little Beach

.  I'm sure you could hear my laugh all the way down the beach.  After about an hour and a half, we walked back up the 65 stairs and up and down the hills carrying the surf boards, to the house.

The afternoon was spent reading the newspaper, taking, having breaky, bird watching -- kookaburras and their long, strong beaks which they use for scooping up lizards and snakes (when I told my niece, Sydney about the kookaburra on the phone the other day, she sang to me "Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree..." which made me smile).  One topic of discussion was GM or genetically modified food that has slowly been introduced to Australia over the last year and a half or so.  Maria had attended a seminar of sorts on this topic and had some literature that I was very intersted in reading.  We had some very interesting conversations.  I learned a little more about Maria and Stewart, and about their three kids who are all around my age. 

In the afternoon, Stewart and I went for another session.  We drove this time because Stewart wanted to show me Avoca, another beach in the area, which is much busier than Copa. We saw more of the scenery and more of the houses on posts.  Once we got to Copa, we headed a little further down the beach. This time the waves were much choppier and it was much more work to paddle

Stewart and Anne at Little Beach

.  At one point, I was trying to duck the board under a wave, which I did all wrong because instead of going under the wave, the board popped up and hit me in the nose.  Thankfully, there was no blood, no swelling, no bruising, no black eyes, but it's been sore all week.  If I had broken it, it would have been almost as unique as the last time I broke my nose.  Ha ha!  The choppier water made it fun to just sit on the board again and enjoy the waves, the peace of the ocean.  Stewart told me how some of the men will gossip out here in the water.  It's their time away when then can talk, I guess.  Stewart was a very encouraging teacher, and I feel very fortunate to have so much time and attention paid to me. After our surf session, we drove up to the headland which is part of three points that Captain Cook used to plot the coast of Australia.  Just beautiful views as the day approached dusk.  

Saturday was a really lovely evening.  It was nice to take a hot shower and put on long sleeves and pants and sit outside, enjoying a couple glasses of wine.  Maria is an excellent cook and we ate very healthfully!  We had T-bones, kangaroo sausages, roasted veggies, salad, and taboulah, which I loved.  A possum came to visit us on the deck.  Australian possums look nothing like American ones.  This guy was cute!  He had a long, thick tail, and pointy ears.  They make a kind of hissing sound, which can sound kind of freaky in the dark

The octopus!

.  

Maria told lots of stories about her life, her travels, her children. I also heard the story of how they met back in the 70s in September and were married in her mother's backyard just a couple month later in December.  Stewart was late because he went to pick Frangipani's for Maria's bouquet.  They have planted a frangipani tree under their bedroom window in every house they've lived in, including the one in Copa.  I thought it was the sweetest story.  I enjoyed this so much.  Drinking wine, being an adult (yes, finally!).  Maria shared with me her theory of her heart, which is kind of similar to mine.  

My theory goes like this... (there's a bit of a back story, so bear with me).  In high school, I was on the cross country team.  Every Monday we had what were called "bowl workouts" which were essentially interval training workouts.  Instead of on a track, these workouts were run at a park called Veterans Acres which was about a mile's run down Walkup Avenue from school, which we'd do as our warm up.   Veterans Acres or VA, was where our home course was (second toughest in the state) and conveniently for me, backed up to my neighborhood, so I could walk about 300 feet to get to the park.  VA had this huge hill and down the hill was this big open space surrounded by trees, making the whole area look like a big bowl, hence the name..

Headlands at Copa

. Our coach measured out lengths of 100s in a big circle around this area, which was grassy and had little up hills here and there, and an area that got really swampy when it rained (often resulting in very dirty cross country boys returning to school after the workout was over).  It was the perfect place to run timed cross country intervals.  We did these workouts every Monday.  The purpose was to run really hard, breaking down your muscles, allowing them to build up stronger the rest of the week in time for the meet on Saturday.  Like breaking down our legs through bowl run, the heart, being a muscle is continually broken down by life, struggles, break-ups, challenges,  all that break down the heart so that it can be built up stronger.  What does not kill you makes you stronger, sort of thing.  Maria's thoughts were similar in that she has these cracks and fissures, broken off pieces of her heart, leaving places, her kids moving away, her life, etc.  All these cracks and broken pieces of her heart and won't be restored until she dies.  I know it sort of sounds sad and morbid, but I could totally relate.  I've lived in a few places and whenever I leave one of those places to visit another place, I am happy while I'm there, but I'm sad and missing the other place the other people.  Bits, pieces, chunks of my heart in all these places, left with all these wonderful people in my life or who were in my life.  Sometimes you don't get some of those chunks or pieces back.  Sometimes you don't want to.  There is never enough time, is there

a frangipani

. I feel like I'm always missing something. I've been sad and missing so many things while I've been here, but I've also been filling up parts of my heart that haven't been touched yet.  It would be much easier if everyone could just come to me.  I hear there's lots of open space in the outback...

Sunday morning came all too quickly.  Stewart was up early, but not as early as the kookburras, and had a new kind of tea for me to try.   We headed back down to Copa for session #3.  I was going to try to stand up on the board today.  I don't know if it's because I was tired from using different muscles, though I wasn't actually sore, or if my 30-year-old body's recovery time being not what it used to, but I was really slow going.  Plus, my rib cage and knees were pretty beat up from being on the board the day before.  My tummy has taken quite a beating this last week!  The water was cold and I got chilly very quickly.  I felt pretty awkward and just slow.  Standing was not coming quickly.  I got out of the water to warm up while Stewart caught some waves.  We went for a quick jog up and down the beach which was nice.  I may have said this before, but I sort of feel bad for people who have to run with music.  I know it helps people concentrate or keep their mind off of running, but running has always just come easy to me.  Running along the beach and listening to the waves come up on the shore is just so unbelieveably peaceful to me and I am able to really think.  After the run, feeling much warmer, I decided to try standing up another go, and it went much better.  I was able to get on me feet a couple times and understand what it feels like to balance on the board. 

We walked back to the house a different way, up a different set of stairs, and passed by a Frangipani tree and saw this beautiful rainbow bird. After cleaning up and some breaky, we took a drive to "Little Beach" before I needed to catch my train.  Maria and Stewart went for a swim while I sat on the rocks with my feet in a small rock pool, and relaxed watching the tide come in and the teeny fish with it.  At one point, I felt something kind of suchion on the side of my foot.  I moved my foot a little and then I felt the suchioning a little harder and this time yanked my foot out, only to see an OCOTPUS!  Stewart said he was quite big, but I thought he was small -- nothing like the giant ocotpi I've seen on the Discovery Channel!  His body minus the legs was about the size of my fist.  Mr. Ocotopus went and hid under a big rock and stayed there despite our efforts to entice him out with shellfish. 

Maria headed back to the house and Stewart and I did a little bushwalk, which is a hike, back to Copacabana, with more beautiful views.  Once we got back to the house, I got my things together and Maria packed up some food for me, which was really very sweet of her.  She insisted again, that I sit in front on the way to the train so I could have better views.  It was a really lovely weekend!  I enjoyed it so much and am so grateful to Patrick for putting me in touch with Stewart and Maria.  I boarded the train and felt really sad.  That same feeling I was talking about above.  Missing everything.  Tears rolled down my face for the better part of the ride home, even as I looked out at beautiful Hawkesbury River and the mountains and thought to myself, "I'm in Australia".  I was pretty exhausted, happy to be headed back to Coogee, but sad just the same. This too shall pass, I always think...

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