Watercourse & fairy lights

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Denver, Colorado


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Yesterday’s sunshine vanished and a grey day swept in, I felt restless. The city had been fun for a day, but now I was keen to move on, we loved the airbnb, but they had their lives to live and their babies cough was worsening. Out of the suburbs in the process of being gentrified through the industrial district, to the river, bare branches and patrolling geese. Dylan ran, I wandered long.

A lunch of giant salad at The Market at Larimer Square and a deep fried donut to offset our health points. Across the road a homeless man had incongruously taken up residence underneath a giant hippopotamus sculpture. We wandered through the burbs, from a row house music blasted, packs of primary school kids were shepherded by young teachers and there was that whiff of weed on the breeze.

Warm sunbeams kissed the timber shingles of the neighbouring house as we waited for Sam and Laina to pick us up for a farewell meal, goodbye Denver and goodbye the last of the earthship crew. As we drove street art whizzed by vibrant in the setting sun. While we waited for a table at Watercourse a row of smiling Muslim refugees sat in a row before us, a beaming western woman informed us part of the profit from our meal would support their charity. Would these lovely ladies have to sit smiling in the entry all night? To their left a mural of floppy bunnies and ravens presided over the scene, lights were ensconced in fitting of fragile paper scales. The food was delicious, drinks were free due to slow service, desert was vegan mousse. Then we ended the night on a high Our mutual Friend, chatting, laughing under fairy lights floating in the dark sky.


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Urban Farm, Denver

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Denver, Colorado



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when it seemed like everything was coming apart at the seams it pulled itself back together in an unexpectedly delightful new form. The night before had been perhaps our most stressful of the trip so far, half way to Denver from the Dunes Sam got a call from his girlfriend who had been at the hospital with a fever of 104F and what later she later suspected was swine flu. She was too sick to have us stay and with 4 o’clock looming in a new city we weren’t sure what to do. Dylan had a badly hurting foot from hiking the dunes and we were all rather dejected thinking his running race was over before it began.

We pulled into the local Lone Pine public library for precious internet. It was a long shot with so little notice but we thought we’d give airbnb a go before we settled for the hostel. We found the perfect one with a veggie garden as one of the photos, then after applying we just drove in that direction, hoping for an affirmative. On the highway we got it, relief. we didn’t know how lucky we were, on admittance to their sweet little home, we were greeted with such warmth by Ali and Reuben that it brought grins to our travel weary bones. They provided Dylan with an icepack and by morning even that niggle had retreated to a safe stiffness.

That morning the light shone softly, illuminating little vignettes: a happily playing baby with hair glowing red, a cuddly Australian Shepherd X that demanded attention 24/7 and got it from us, a grey cat silhouetted against the window, a smartly dressed in shades of blue and yellow.


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We realised we were amongst kindred spirits as we chatted about social and environmental sustainability and Train Running (eyes lit up all round on that one). Reuben’s work as a social worker/urban farmer lead to his passionate involvement in using school land in Denver as urban farms for education and an outlet for disadvantaged students. Ali taught primary students via correspondence and they both had a fulltime job keeping sweet little Wendall in check.

We headed off into a gorgeous pre-spring day with directions to the trendy side of town. Drawn like magnets to hipster hangouts we had brunch at Crema where we sat opposite a red headed dude dressed in basketball gear from hed to foot in that ironic way that was all too familiar. However, what would be vaguely annoying back home was comforting as the post Earthship blues began dripping into my subconscious, only to fully reveal themselves days later on top of a mountain.

We wandered into the city, then headed back down Larimer Street to meet our airbnb family sweetly met us to unlock the sustainability centre where Reuben volunteer. While we waited we spied a cute looking outdoor gear shop, it was closed, son we stickybeaked through the window Topo Designs. A face appeared and were ushered in by a pretty, athletic girl. She gave us the low down, made in Colorado with love, we didn’t escape without setting down a pretty penny, Dylan was hiking hipsterfied and I had a limited addition Woolrich/Topo designs bag, that i hugged to me like a kid with a favourite soft toy. It’s hard to find anything not made in China right? And it will last forever right? And shiny things right…


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Reuben unlocked the gates to the Sustainability Park and gave us a tour. It was like seeing CERES in its early days, exciting new enviro ideas sprouting up on a vacant lot. One section was vegetable garden plots where disadvantaged kids grew produce to sell, another area was where a lady on government assistance was trying to live off for a year, there were bees and a whole array of eco building examples. So inspiring and so much fun, I wished I could stay to make a mini project happen there.

Walking home in golden dusk I felt a surge of happiness, but then a tinge of sadness that we would have to leave these new friends behind. We left them at a microbrewery and raced the clock to the vegan grocery they recommended. We got there after closing but the owner was pretty chill and actually seemed to enjoy having a chat. He said that with his niche market he wasn’t threatened by big chains like Wholefoods or Trader Joe’s and that he was actually moving his store closer to them to benefit from their spillover as there were speciality products the big names would not bother to sell. Apparently they give loans to small local food producers and only have something like a 9 month exclusive contract as well. Hmm…in Australia we could perhaps benefit from the competition as the Woolworths/Coles duopoly is out of control.

The day ended sharing in the Ali, Reuben and Wendall’s family meal. Delicious quinoa salad and homemade soup. We felt so welcomed in this foreign land, the kindness of strangers really can turn a good experience into a great one. Have little acts of kindness transformed ordinary places into special ones?


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aloha, we’re not in australia anymore

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6 MONTHS OF ADVENTURE BEGINS HERE


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A sprawling city, highways and that sweet damp heat, Honolulu was both a stranger and an old friend. My mind quickly calling up a flood of childhood memories of Jakarta to quiet nerves in a new place. A place where beauty and desperation are entwined in a lover’s embrace. The tide of homelessness after the GFC washes around the towers of affluence, both starkly alien and disquieting. The ubiquitous Starbucks is our first port of call, the traveller’s bastion of free wi-fi. We hear someone order a tall 5 shot, caramel, frapuccino extra sugar, we’re not in Melbourne anymore.

Then out on the bus to the leeward coast, out the window resorts give way to ramshackle housing, many half built and then locked up with tarps and pieces of plywood. Roosters, dogs, chainlink fences, rusted cars and behind them the most glorious craggy hillsides moss green and rich red earth. Ocean to the front, hills to the back, but people are struggling. We go a stop too far, no one is on the street. We walk past houses and see everyone gathered around TVs drinking beer, there are even people watching TV in the park. What is going on? Then it clicks, it’s Superbowl Sunday, Americans on couches everywhere unite under one love. Suddenly it doesn’t seem so eerily quiet anymore.

We don’t realise we have been holding our middle class breaths until we reach our accommodation, a simple but lovely double storey weatherboard with a lush garden. No one is there yet so we explore, there are at least six cats sprawled around, which is oddly comforting, and a garden full of ripening papayas, bananas and star fruit, a temperate dwellers dream. There is a dark pool and we peer in and are met with the sleepy gaze of one, then two tortoises, all long nails and shimmering neck, scrambling to reach us, they are disappointed when we don’t have any food to offer them. After our enthusiasm blanches when we try a “gathered” mallow meal from the garden, we venture out, jet lagged and lazy, we get as far as a 7Eleven to cobble together a meal. On the way back, locals smile and greet us as we wander along the highway, we are getting the feeling that Hawaiians might just be the friendliest people in the world.

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