I was just sitting here, working, minding my own business, when a man’s voice invaded my earspace from somewhere out in the park.
An Australian accent.
I LOVE Australian accents.
An Australian accent means fun is about to happen. It means you might not remember tomorrow, and for whatever reason you don’t find that mortifying. It means that today is the day you’ll learn how to field dress a deer, or some such other random thing. It doesn’t really matter what it is because you’re already on board.
The thing about Aussies isn’t just that they can do it all, it’s that the do, do it all. And they’ll take you with them, too.
Aussies are not often spotted in the wild here in Vallarta. Which is a shame. Honestly I think they’d love Vallarta.
What makes them so fun may be that they’re always traveling. Whenever or wherever you see one, there’s a really good chance they are on extended holiday. They’ve been on the road for 1-6 months, and they always have anywhere from 1-6 months left.
Australia is a giant island shaped like Scooby-Doo’s head that we keep out in a back corner of Earth’s basement, and it always takes 18 hours to get to anywhere from there regardless of destination, so when they go, they like really get outta there.
I think in that moment, hearing that guy’s voice, I realized I’m kind of starved for an Aussie. They always have a way of making you feel like you’re partners in crime. Unless you’re a complete asshole, it seems to be a decent bet that any Aussie you meet will like you, and they’ll probably act like they’ve been waiting their whole life for a pal just like you.
It may or may not be true, their lifelong quest for only you, but that won’t matter and you won’t ever ask them because you’ll be too busy having the time of your life.
Aussies tend to be resourceful. I think this too might be a function of spending large chunks of time independent, traveling, but these people tend to be walking life hack encyclopedias.
I was in Greece a few years ago, traveling alone for a few weeks, in the grocery store shopping wine. An Australian couple came by and was also shopping wine, commenting that they didn’t have a corkscrew so they needed a screw top bottle. “Be sure to feel for a cork”, he said, pressing down gently onto the tops of the bottles to see if there was any “give” or if the top was solid: a surefire way to know if there’s a cork under that foil.
I stole that life-changing bit of wisdom fair and square just by stalking eavesdropping on an adorable Aussie couple for a few short moments.
Another thing I love about them is that in spite of the fact that they may be able to teach you a few new tricks, they can be exactly as derpy as you can with things like military time. So you might have to spend all night awake with one (or several, as the case may be), outside the Madrid train station for example, when every last one of you fails to realize that 22:00 is 10pm and it’s now 10:30 and you’re not on the train.
But once again it’s their good nature and ability to be at ease as a traveler, almost anywhere. The ease with which they move through life, that’s ultimately why you still remember that unbelievably inconvenient night so fondly, even 20 years later.
If you have an adventurous friend in your group, and you also have an Aussie, I can tell you with 100% certainty, sight unseen, that these two are the same person. They are always up to something, and definitely probably recently got their kit off, either to bathe in a waterfall or float in a sensory deprivation chamber, and have zero qualms about a pint of lager at 9:30am. They are so. fun.
Speaking of how apt they are to liberate themselves from their clothes, once I was on a bus in Mexico headed to Vallarta, just minding my own business, when my nose was smacked in the face by the nauseating smell of sulfur. Girl it was gagworthy.
“Ohhh that’s really bad” I heard the giggling and distinctly-accented female voice exclaim from the seat behind me.
I turned my head halfway around and smiled that “no worries buddy, we’re all traveling” smile.
“De donde eres?”
This question, “where are you from?” was directed at me but it was so poorly pronounced that I didn’t realize they were even Spanish words until she tapped me on the shoulder and said much slower… “De. Donde. Eres?”
“OH! Soy de los Estados Unidos.”
“OMG you speak English thank god we can speak English!”
And then I didn’t have to say anything else for the whole ride. She told me about how she’d been traveling with a few friends but in typical Aussie Group Traveler fashion, some had chosen to break off for a while and do their own thing so they all had agreed to just meet up in a few days at the airport for their next flight.
She had always really wanted to visit these sulfur hot springs in the outskirts of Vallarta, so she planned a couple of other activities in that neck of the woods, promptly lost track of time, and had just barely made it for a soak in the springs before the bus would scoop her.
She was sorry for the smell. I was sorry I hadn’t met her a few days earlier.
But she did have the rest of that day free, and her flight didn’t leave until mid afternoon the following day, which was great because I was flying to Costa Rica at the same time. So we had that lightning-quick best friendship that all the Aussies in my world are famous for, and I never saw her again.
There’s really something special about Aussies. We’re lucky to have them roaming about.
Life loves be to taken by the lapel and told “I’m with you kid, let’s go”. No one understands this like an Australian does.
Love me some Aussie, even if just real quick to remind me. ❤
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