Kuranda

I was drawn out of my bleak, yet comfortable hostel room by the glowing pinks and reds of the sky beyond the palms and gum trees outside my window. I strolled down the quiet street before just before dusk, as the fragrant plumeria and tropical flowers wafted in the warm, but light breeze. I rounded the corner near the Scenic Railway Station and Skyway Rainforest cable car platform without another person in sight. The trees surrounding the sidewalk darkened my path as I neared the main street, but the delicate walkway lights cast a gentle shadow on my way, exposing many shadowed clumps that I couldn’t make out. A step closer made 20 or so clumps jump and scramble into the forest, making it clear that these were the Cane Toads that we introduced into an island where it had no predators.
Walking down the main street, as the red sky turned to lighter pinks and blues, I was clear that the town of Kuranda has two distinct sides. Mid-day, sweat dripped and sun beaten tourists arrive on the train, buses or Rainforest Skyway and descend onto Kuranda to buy anything “Australian”. From t-shirts, didgeridoos, and even kangaroo skins, this place has it. Shops line the two main streets, overflowing onto the sidewalk with racks and tables of outback trinkets. And while the only non-tourist buildings are a church, police station, grocery, and post office, Kuranda manages to bring an artsy funky Australian uniqueness to the place. Around 3:30, as the last train out of town blows the whistle, you can practically see the shops pull down their front metal covers and roll the café tables back inside.
As I walked down the now darkened street, I notice a few people out, some sitting outside the glow of the open market. A few cars drive past, but otherwise, this is it. Turning down a side street I look ahead to the next block. The houses aren’t close together, leaving room for palms or Cook pine, and typical tropical island scenery. Beyond a few houses I notice a church or community hall with a light on. Inside I hear grunts, and through the doorway see a handful of people wearing white Karate clothing. Turning the corner, I see an Aboriginal family taking a walk down the street in the cooling evening. Night has finally arrived, and only dim and distant lights emerge from houses. As I peer into one of these houses, I see an older woman sitting by the open sliding door, rocking in a chair, and ready for an evening of listening to the song of the cicadas and hum of the toads.
For the first time on my trip I finally felt like I had been in the real Australia. Beyond the big city bustle of Sydney, the backpacker swarms and endless tour bookers of Cairns, and the sarong and boomerang shops mid-day Kuranda, I was finally able to see Australia alive. It’s not just the tours and spectacular views, or Koalas that make Australia, but rather the people and how they live in this unique and beautiful place.