Signing-off from Australia

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I have one full morning left. Kristy’s working and so I venture out alone. It’s early-ish (before 10) so museums and such are not yet open. I head straight to the Royal Gardens, binoculars strung around my neck. It’s quiet out today, the Boxing Day shopping crowds have exhausted themselves, many folks are still on vacation and staying home with family, and most tourists have yet to rise. I meander through the park keeping my eyes searching and my ears perked. I want to get a good glimpse of the various parrots I’ve seen flitting around the park. I luck out.

I near a large tree with bright orange blossoms flaring up amidst the greenery. And here I find my parrots. Rainbow lorikeets clatter all about the tree, in constant motion but there are enough of them that I can positively ID them with their bright blue heads, red-and-yellow streaked breasts, and green wings and tail. One large sulphur-crested cockatoo hangs upside down in plain view over the path. I keep moving back and forth beneath the tree, craning and straining my neck, mouth open, routinely making little noises of glee. I must look…like a foreigner. The tree has a nice label on it, naming it to be a native black bean tree, whose seeds pods contain chemical derivatives used in experimental AIDS treatments.

My neck starts to ache so I move on and capture images of lapwings and ibises. I begin to journey back and find myself in the palm garden where I notice these big seed pods hanging from bare branches of the overarching trees. I move closer and squeal again. Not seed pods! Flying foxes! The largest bat species in the world! My excitement is only slightly tempered by a cautionary sign I see along the path. Turns out these bats have become so enamored of this roosting spot that they have become abundant enough to start killing the carefully nurtured palms (natives). If I recall correctly, it has something to do with their tendencies to denude and rip apart anything tall in their roosting area. Oh people and other species, what funny webs we weave.

Once the clock strikes 10, I show up at the Hyde Park Barracks Museum, a museum dedicated to the convict history of Sydney. It’s located on the north side of Hyde Park in a restored convict barracks that was used routinely throughout the 1800’s. The museum is dedicated to portraying the various sides of convict life, mostly from the convict’s perspective. 166,000 British convicts were moved to Australia during the 1800’s, the most in anywhere in the world. No surprise, most of the convicts were actually just petty thieves. One display lists convictions of dozens of convicts and they’re appallingly trifling. There’s an entire room dedicated to showing images (old paintings and a floor-size representation of early-nineteenth century Sydney) of what the city used to look like when dominated by convicts (but always controlled by the military and appointed Governors). Another well-done and fascinating Sydney museum!

Then I’m back in the hotel, bags packed, waiting for my shuttle. The journey home is uneventful but I find myself already planning my return trip. To both New Zealand and Australia. I still have the entire desert portion of the Land Down Under to explore, the part of the country I’ve longed for since I was eight, and Kiwi Land tugged at my heart more than I had anticipated. I’ll be back! And it won’t be long, I promise! There are some good post-doc opportunities in Australia…

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Photos

Castor bean tree
The mecca tree

Convict "uniform"
This was actually rarely worn but is an interesting ensemble, no?