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The Backpacker Collective:sharing tales of past trips and those to come, of travel sites, of tips, of blogs and of the world.

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Bye-bye, Bay Area

Andrew Molera State Park, California. Photo: A Bergamin.
Andrew Molera State Park, California. Photo: A Bergamin.

Andrew Molera State Park, California. Photo: A Bergamin.

Almost every time I return from a trip abroad and land back at my parent’s house in Australia, my dad asks me the same question: what did you learn? As I stand looking down at my California life now packed into a backpack and one small box that question seems more pertinent than ever.

After calling the San Francisco Bay Area home for the…

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Guest Post: ‘A Yankee Down Under.’

In 2011, guest post writer and traveller, Justin Breck, left the US to live and work in Australia. Now back in his native California, The Backpacker Collective asked him about his experiences living down under.

If I had to summarise my experience of Australia in one word, it would be “unexpected.” Before I arrived, I didn’t read or learn much about the country as it wasn’t my intention to be a tourist. My goal was to reunite with my significant other, who I hadn’t seen in two and a half months. After applying for a one year work- travel visa, I was happy to be together again and have the opportunity to work and save.

Melbourne's skyline

Melbourne’s Skyline from the Yarra River

From what I saw in films and on television, Australia appeared to be a desert wilderness, mostly inhabited by rugged outback personalities, a la “Crocodile Dundee.” While this is far from the truth, I guarantee you that this is the impression most Americans have of Australia as it is seldom represented in our media or news. Needless to say, I was surprised to discover that Australia actually has a mostly urban, very multicultural population, with the vast majority of citizens living and working in cities. Again, probably due to my limited exposure to Australia, I just assumed that the population was mostly a mix of English descendants and Aboriginal peoples. I had no idea the country, on the whole, has such a rich mixture of Southern European, North African/Middle Eastern, and East and Southeast Asian immigrants.

The other big surprise was just how flat and old, geologically and culturally, Australia actually is. I knew it was a hot, dry land, but I didn’t realise that certain parts of the country were 4 billion years old. Not to mention that the longest stretch of straight roadway exists in Australia; that’s just how flat it is. Some rainforests, like the Daintree, are millions of years old and date back to the age of dinosaurs. In terms of culture, Australia’s aborigines have the oldest continuously living culture on the planet, over 60,000 years old. I find these facts fascinating, but they are things I probably wouldn’t have learned had I not moved to Australia as most Americans just aren’t in tune with the country’s history and cultures, and like I mentioned, almost never hear about Australia.

Nourlangie or ‘rock country’ Kakadu National Park, Northern Territory. 

On the flip side, I was astounded at how often America featured on Australian news particularly during the US election. Australians seemed much more in tune with American news and politics, perhaps more than my own fellow Americans were. And for some reason, I didn’t realise just how many TV programs make it overseas; I never expected to see “Jersey Shore” on Australian television sets!

Australia really was quite “unexpected,” but awesomely so. It is a country of contrasts and extremes, with a diverse array of beautiful environments and landscapes. I am really quite lucky to have fallen in love with an Aussie girl as not only do I get to visit, but I’ll soon get to call this place my permanent home!

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Wandering into Someone Else’s Backyard

Looking back on photos from a recent trip to the U.S, the realisation came that although the big cities were visited, the traditional tourist track was certainly stumbled off too. Wandering inadvertently into seemingly other worlds allowed us to see places that didn’t rate a mention in the guidebooks but which showed us interpretations different from the conventional American Dream. 

Whilst ignorantly setting out for the streets of San Francisco in search of the perfect taco, we were by chance fortunate enough to catch glimpses into the lives of immigrants who we assumed had moved to California in pursuit of something better.On advice from local friends, we headed towards the Mission, an area originally established by missionaries at the city’s inception and now largely populated by people who have immigrated from Mexico, which borders the base of the state. Whilst taquerias did indeed abound here, what was more intriguing was the vibrancy, the colour and the visible stories everywhere.

Despite quickly becoming aware that we had traipsed into a lower socio economic area, it was clear that as a community these people were not attempting to solely adopt the so called American Dream of pastel houses, picket fences and big cars that are often seen in this city, but were embracing their traditions and ensuring they were not being forgotten by children who have been born on the surrounding blocks more recently. Murals on every blank wall painted reminders of hometowns far away, of festivals, of religious celebrations, of hope and spirit, of political icons, and of proud depictions of their determination for equality and rights- an in depth education of the experiences of a whole people was to be found on the fences in crooked back lanes in this vibrant San Franciscan suburb.

Half way across the country however, deep in the Mid-Western states near the Great Lakes, an area on the lower West side of Chicago painted a different and more sobering tale on its ice paved streets in mid Winter.

Pilsen, like the Mission, is an area largely populated by Mexican immigrants, although unlike the other, there is a strong sense of disadvantage in the streets. We felt this immediately on exiting the almost deserted 18th Street El station*. Plastered on the walls of decrepit surrounding buildings were posters that reminded young citizens about recent crimes in the area and pleading against re-occurrence. A large concrete church with bordered up doors loomed above everything. There were no murals depicting community festivities or reminders of home, only one sombre statement, illustrating the community’s frustration about immigrants’ standing in American society- its bright presence making a stance half way down the empty main street. It seemed here a community was still fighting to establish their slice of the dream.

Further to the East, in an attempt to walk from Williamsburg to Downtown Brooklyn in New York, we stumbled into the devout Hassidic Jewish community. Suddenly the iconic yellow schools buses had Hebrew inscribed on their sides, the trendy indie hipsters of Bedford Avenue a few blocks before were replaced by similarly aged young women wearing conservative black dresses and pushing strollers. Bearded men stood about on street corners holding their prayer books and chatting. Non-elaborate signs were written in both Hebrew and English, advertising local businesses and community services. Unlike the rest of New York, there were not several convenience stores on every block, or flashing neon signs or even a Starbucks to be seen. An ancient community had managed to maintain their way of life in the middle of the biggest metropolis in the world, not conforming with the American Dream, but paralleling their own.

 -CR

*The El is the Chicago train system which transports residents across Chicago on raised or ‘Elevated’ tracks. Established in 1892, it is famous for its loud rattling noise and was once declared above legal noise levels by a university study. 

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