Ode to Oz

 

 

There’s something about Australia that is very apolitical. A geographical largesse, one seemingly excused from the Continental Drift, the Land of Oz is culturally and colloquially a fun world away from the rest of the milling multitudes on hemisphere, its own and its better half. The luxurious sanction of over seven million square kilometers of earth generously divvied between six states, its myriad magnificent natural wonders are anything but a hop away. But a concerted host to an exclusive who’s who of the natural kingdom, it certainly is.

Reefs or rainforests, coasts or caves, Australia packs in enough for the ideal adventure holiday. Historically too, it hasn’t been any less adventurous for the country, considering the first of its immigrant inhabitants were the overflowing prison population from the Queen’s land. Meeting much the same fate as any other pre-War colony of the White Men, the planet’s oldest (arguably) surviving indigenous group, the Aborigenese, was thus reduced to a floundering fraction; what generations now express their solidarity with, by means of festivals, rituals and relics.

Festivities, both common and queer (In Feb and March, Mardi Gras makes the former of the latter), are so many that the plentiful vineyard valleys in this great outback seem like a divine plan to keep up the spirits around the year. Whether the neon rush around the Harbour or the sun-streaked colours of the Daintree forests, there is never a boring moment with this Mate from the South...