Cairns: A Journey That Didn't Go as Planned

Journey Through Time 🕰️ Brave Decisions And Gut Feelings

When I arrived in Cairns, I didn't expect to feel like I'd arrived in Thailand. And I didn't expect to decide to leave after just two days. The only thing I did expect was not to expect anything.

They say the greatest wisdom in a journey is understanding when something isn't working for you, and not insisting just because "that's what you planned." But still, the moment when I decided to suddenly change plans was a stressful one. Especially when I'm doing it alone.

📍 Cairns, Australia | 16/07/2023

Arrived in Cairns

An Adventure with a Taste of Thailand, Just in Australia

So I left paradise. I'm not exaggerating — one of the areas in Gold Coast is actually called Surfers Paradise, and not just because of the surfers. Before I came to Australia, I didn't know about this wonderful place at all, and only when I heard from people how beautiful it is here, I decided it was worth a visit.

I'm sure there are many more wonderful places to see here in Australia, and I hope I'll get to see as many of them as possible. Meanwhile, I (finally) arrived in Cairns.

After an easy two-and-a-half-hour flight, during which I started reading a new book (and I'm already almost 20% through 600 pages 😊), I landed in Cairns city — and was greeted by insane humidity, which made me realize very quickly that I'm in a completely different place.

I tried to check transportation from the airport to the hotel in advance: a one-hour walk, 9 minutes by car, no train, no bus. A bit strange. Taxi drivers said it would be about $25, and in the end, I took a shuttle for $20, because I didn't really see any other option around.

I put my suitcases in the hotel room, it's 7:30 in the evening, Saturday, and I decided to go to the city center. A half-hour walk or 15 minutes by bus — I took a bus. During the ride, the driver tells me that payment is cash only.

Cash?! That's when I became suspicious. $2.40 gets you a ticket for two hours (or four hours on Sunday). Later, I found out there's also a day ticket for $4.80 or a weekly ticket for $20.

I thought about how outdated it is to take cash on a bus, and that even in Israel, they don't do that anymore. Especially after coming from cities where public transportation is so developed, this quite surprised me.

Although it's dark outside, I can recognize the familiar trees. The streets look like landscapes I've seen before. I see many specific restaurants, and specific people... everything feels and looks like Thailand.

Wow, I was really surprised, to say the least. Although it makes sense — after all, Cairns is geographically very close to Asia — I just thought it would still feel like Australia, but that's not the case.

Everyone is wearing flip-flops and short clothes, the weather is tropical like in books, even the night market looks like Thailand, just with Australian prices, or something in between.

Suddenly, there are massage places on every corner, many people on the street because it's Saturday night, so quite a few drunk people too, and like in Thailand, a strong smell of weed in the air.

I love Thailand, I just didn't expect it here and now. I also didn't expect the harsh sights of the poor people here in the area. They wander the streets — drunk, battered, barefoot — children and adults.

They seem completely destitute, and the vast majority are of Aboriginal origin (the first Australians). They move in groups, sometimes sitting on all the benches at the bus station. When I passed by, I felt the need to cross the street.

I've been thinking about this since — about this need. About the fact that even if there were a group of drunk kids there, I would cross the street, or even just a group of boys.

Because it's dark now, and I've learned not to put myself in places that could even be a gateway to trouble. I'm not afraid — I'm cautious. Beyond that, I just felt like this wasn't a really good start in a new place.

Maybe it's just because it's Saturday night, and everyone is drunk at this hour in every city. I need to see the city during the day to understand more.

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📍 Cairns, Australia | 17/07/2023

"Can I Have Your Food?"

When Lunch Turned into a Life Lesson

I woke up early and went out to explore the city. This time I chose the half-hour walk — after all, I'm walking all day anyway, so what difference does it make?

I arrived at the weekend market. There's something charming about these markets in my eyes. Beyond interesting food stalls, I always encounter special things: different people displaying their wares, tastes, smells, and colors belonging to this specific place.

Here, of course, I encountered many tropical fruits and vegetables, even ones I don't know at all. Everything is colorful, fresh, and inviting.

I came to a stall selling half a coconut shell with yogurt, fresh fruits, honey, and cinnamon inside. It was simply a delicacy! And felt very special and authentic.

The market is close to the mall in the city, so I went in to take a look around. Turns out everyone is inside — escaping the sticky humidity outside. I bought myself a packaged salad and a plate with three small schnitzels.

In the restaurant area, it was too noisy for me, so I thought it would be nice to go outside and eat on the bench in the picture.

I realized I'm still used to big cities, where that's what everyone does — including me: buy takeout food and go eat in the park because it's lovely. The humidity almost made me regret it, but in the end, I chose the open air.

I was enjoying my meal... until a group of older homeless people came and sat next to me. Not really next to me — there's a divider on the bench — but close enough for me to be disgusted by the smell they brought with them. I wondered whether to get up or stay and eat. I decided to finish quickly and get up.

Middle of the day, middle of the street, there are other people around. I wasn't afraid they would do something to me, and still felt myself shrinking. One of them, who sat closest to me, stared at me with a strange look.

When I raised my eyes to her, she asked me for one schnitzel. I thought about it, maybe for a split second, and gave her one.

They look very pitiful and very neglected. One of them started walking around the bench, and I thought about my backpack — I felt tense. Perhaps a second passed, and she asked again: "Can I have some salad too?" I replied that I was sorry, but no. I realized I had to get up now.

I took two more bites — and she asked again: "Can I have a cherry tomato from the salad?" Now I was firmer in my tone. "I'm sorry, this is my food." I got up and left. I realized she didn't even thank me for the schnitzel, and maybe I was the prey here, and they were planning to hurt me.

I was angry at her — that she's rude, and that she should go get a job. But in the next moment, I was angry at myself. How can I judge people like that, who are truly unfortunate, and whom I'm simply afraid of?

I should have just gotten up. Or left the food for her and got up. But I was terribly afraid and disgusted. I felt pity toward them, but not empathy. And in that situation, I didn't know what was right to do.

It reminded me of other situations that happened to me in the past, where strangers, and men, approached me on the street for help, even in Israel, and I felt threatened, so, of course, I didn't help. When I told my mom about it, she said it was because I'm a girl, so I learned to be careful and be on alert all the time.

I hope next time I'll know to do the right thing.

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📍 Cairns, Australia | 18/07/2023

Maybe Townsville?

I Decided to Leave, and the City Decided to Show Me What I'm Missing

In the morning, I went to the local pharmacy. I was looking for a new perfume, sunglasses to replace the ones I lost, and various other things.

At every counter where I tried perfumes and tried on sunglasses, a store employee stood in a direct line with me to make sure I wasn't stealing anything. I felt his gaze in my bones.

I stood in line for the checkout when suddenly I noticed that the cashiers were asking everyone who paid to open their bag and show the cashier they hadn't stolen anything. Okay. This is too much. What city have I come to? Is everyone here a thief?

At the hotel where I'm staying, they repeatedly emphasize making sure the doors are locked at all times. Something inside me feels wrong. I mulled over these thoughts, thinking again and again about my options. I realized I needed more information, so I turned to whom I trust more than anyone — Google.

I asked questions about Cairns, got factual answers about the population with detailed demographic data, and more examples of questions that other people usually ask. It turns out I'm not the only one who noticed this phenomenon. I asked the same questions about Townsville.

The findings show that Townsville is indeed a larger city, more developed, with a smaller percentage of homeless people and lower crime rates than Cairns. There's also a university there, which hints at the type of population. I read about specific areas in the city — where it's advisable to hang out and where less so.

And while reading, I get messages: two out of three apartments I had scheduled to see are no longer relevant. Am I supposed to rely on one apartment? I thought about all the apartments that rejected me in Melbourne. This is exactly the time to show that I learned something from that period. Call it a sign from heaven, I call it a kick in the butt. I'm moving to Townsville.

I sent a message to the landlady there. She replied quickly, I paid, booked a bus ticket for Saturday — and that's it.

What I hate most about reaching a decision is the moment after. In the moment after I made a decision, I always regret it. All the doubts come up again. "I have another apartment to see here... maybe it's for me?" It's not.

You don't really want a rental contract in a dangerous place, even if it's for three months. It's also a headache to deal with water bills, electricity, and so on. You just looked at the site and saw that more than 50 people have viewed the apartment, and it's still not rented. There's probably a reason.

"But in Townsville it's much more expensive... I'm probably making a mistake." You're not.

This place came up out of nowhere — and that's how the best things happen (see: Australia). This is exactly what you wanted. You have a ready apartment that's just waiting for you. You can live in it from now on for three months, or for as long as you want, without going through the torture of apartment hunting like in Melbourne.

So yes, there's a price to it. But next Monday you'll already start looking for a job. "I feel like this is a hasty decision." Hasty? A miss would be not being hired as an information systems analyst at a high-tech company. It's called gut feeling. And this is what you want. Nice to meet you. "That's funny." Shut up.

These hours felt like an eternity. I felt like I needed advice. When I was deliberating what to choose, it was terrible, and after I chose, it felt even worse. Did I do the right thing? I just hope I didn't make a mistake.

I sent my mom a million messages, and it's the middle of the night for her. She answered after eight hours, in a recording of one minute and 44 seconds, with reassuring words — exactly what I needed to hear.

I listened to the recording again and again during the day. Maybe one day I'll find these words in myself. Until then, thank you for having my mom. (And pancake.)

The decision to leave Cairns was instinctive, and even if I didn't have all the facts, something in my gut told me to go. My mom always says I "decide with my heart," and she's probably right. But I also believe that the body knows before the mind understands.

And if sometimes it looks like a "kick in the butt from heaven," then that's probably what I need. Meanwhile, I'm listening again and again to my mom's recording, trying to find that voice within myself, too. Until then, to Townsville.

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