Ring The 'Gong

I set out for the 'Gong for NY's in the manner described in here. It was very spur of the moment, only deciding on the day that I was going to go. Booked accommodation with good ol' reliable YHA, packed what I needed, printed out driving directions, jumped in the car, and we were off!

The drive to get to the city was very liberating. And easy! I so didn't even need the dirs to get to the city itself. For the many readers of this blog who are likely to want to drive from Canberra to Wollongong, directions are as follows: face the car north, follow the signs pointing towards Sydney, take a left at Moss Vale and follow the signs to the 'Gong - done.

The drive to get from the outskirts to my accommodation was somewhat uncool however. The roads of the inner city are styled far too much like Sydney for my comfort. If I had a dollar for every 'No Right Turn' sign and unmarked dead end roads, that particular avenue of income would have funded my accommodation for the two days. I cannot phrase it better than this: extremely annoying. I even got pulled over by a couple of cops for illegally turning right at one point. I didn't get a ticket though, as I managed to present a very convincing image of a dumbass tourist trying to find their accommodation - not exactly a challenge. Got there eventually, put the perishables in the fridge and collapsed.

Having recovered from the excitement, I set out to explore the city and venture out to one of the zillion beaches. Wollongong is a very trippy place. I'm convinced that the city's founders and all the inhabitants were on drugs. How else do you wind up with a suburb named "Fairy Meadows?" The best way that I can describe it though, apart from a town founded on drugs - surfie town. Lots of raucous dickheads with less than coherent English roaming around looking for waves (and drugs). I heard various parts of the Aussie vernacular that I can do without, the term 'youse' being one. Youse is the uneducated Australian plural of the term 'you' - very cringeworthy term. More so when you observe an individual using the term when referring to a singular entity. ('Ay, youse! Gyet ovah heeere!) Although I had pleasant interactions with a few of the residents, and acknowledge that it's not exclusively populated by ignorant yobs, on aggregate, the general population of Wollongong concern me.

The beaches though. The beaches. So amazing, beautiful, spectacular, zen-like. Did I mention that the beaches were pretty? Most of my stay was spent at the beach. Over the course of the two days, I went to the following beaches; Corrimal, North Wollongong, Port Kembla, and Wollongong City. They each had their own flavour to them. Corrimal was the best, with North Wollongong a close second. I made good use of the new swimming cozzie that was one of the 'practical purchases' made in one of the best stores in this hemisphere. Unlike the beaches around Bateman's Bay, these beaches actually have waves, so there was less swimming, and more movements of the 'let's not get dunked' nature. I built a couple of sand castles, read on the sand, chilled. Lovely.

I spent NY's at the Nan Tien Temple watching the Chinese dragon dance, or, as I like to call it: Budda Vegas. That place was spectacular. The reason I call it Buddha Vegas: the sheer size of it, with all the lanterns were lit and the roof of every single shrine was lit up with lights, it was a bit plastic, shiny, overcompensating for a religion that is concerned with impermanence and the illusions perceptions of reality. And the whole business of buying blessings - weird. But who am I to judge? It serves a purpose, it's a gigantic billboard for Buddhism in OZ and it caters to a lot of Chinese Buddhists of the Mahayana tradition. Despite noting the shininess of it all, I really enjoyed my visit there. The shrines were amazing. The calligraphy room was fab. I loved the Buddha Babies (child-like statues in the likeness of Buddha). There were literally hundreds of them scattered across the vast compound. They were so cheeky and cute, I just wanted to cuddle them. Especially the ones near the lotus flower pond.



The dragon dance was really cool. Lots of Chinese and Chinese-Australian kids banging their drums and shaking their dragon clad booties. I watched it with a really nice Italian woman that I came across and had a good conversation with. I could have watched it all night. But it ended all too soon, and then came the 'pilgrimage' from the pagota to the main shrine, which consisted of the following:

All stand in a line. Shuffle along for a few steps. The gong sounds. Stop and genuflect on the ground at nothing in particular for a few seconds. Repeat the process.

Myself and the Italian woman were rather of the opinion "Fuck that" and each went on our merry way. If that practice gives something to people raised in Eastern traditions: more power to them. I occasionally sit on my ass in a manner resembling meditation posture, however, the only time I get down on my knees is if the ball's coming fast and low in a volleyball game.

Afterwards, I didn't feel like to going to bar and chatting with assorted randoms as I had thought I might. Instead, I ventured around the city a bit and contemplated the year behind and the year ahead. I woke up without a hangover on January 1st, checked out, went to the beach for the last time, had a relatively uneventful drive back to Canberra, sighed, and went to work the next day. Some people I know were somewhat appalled when I told them that I went away for NY's by myself, but these individuals clearly haven't experienced Christmas with my folks and the subsequent need for some time to oneself. I probably would have invited one or more persons to come with if I had a bit more lead time, but I'm content with how it all flowed as a mostly solo thing. I needed that time to myself and not having to worry about the wants or needs or anyone else.

Enter 2009.