‘goes bush’ in Australia’s Kangaroo Island and discovers that she wants to live her life like the koala bears — in a hammock in the midst of verdant nature

Isle of the Wild

‘goes bush’ in Australia’s Kangaroo Island and discovers that she wants to live her life like the koala bears — in a hammock in the midst of verdant nature

Kangaroo Island in South Australia is an unrivalled triumph of nature — a five-star nature park of eloquent eco-diversity. Isolated from the mainland, the impact of European settlements hasn’t been much and the island retains more than half its native vegetation. The surf-pounded cliffs, sweeps of sand and rocky inlets make it the perfect place to lie back for a few days. But the book I’m planning to read never makes it out of my bag, for at every stage of the journey I’m confronted with opportunities to “go bush” and observe animals and birds as they are meant to be seen — in their natural habitat. A colony of fur seals at play on a white sandy beach at Seal Bay is first on the agenda. Standing on the beach, watching the fur seals bask, jostle and canoodle, lost in the loveliness of the scene and each other; I feel like a voyeur intruding on a personal tableau, the outsider seeking permission to linger just a little while longer by this ocean of Eden. At Admiral Arch, the feeling of over-familiarity grows once more, as we watch packs of sea lions and fur seals return home from overnight fishing expeditions. Tracking the wild Many creatures of the wild tend to shelter in the day and emerge only at night, so to increase our chances of sighting wildlife, we hire a tracker. Our impatience receives a firm chiding. “If you wish to see animals in a hurry, go to a zoo.” This apart, he proves to be a valuable resource as he points out little things that might otherwise go unnoticed — like the sublime turquoise colour that results when the surf washes over the white sands of the beaches we drive past. We follow his finger as he points to distant trees, revealing tiny spots that turn into koala bears as we draw closer. The tracker says, “You spend your life running after things, just so that at the end of your days you can do what the koala does all his life. Relax in a hammock in the midst of verdant nature.” There is an acute sense of saving the planet and a responsibility to conservation that pervades Kangaroo Island. Every monitor lizard that crosses our path seems to mutter — “conserve” under his breath. When we make tracks into the bush, we are greeted with signs instructing us to clean our boots before we venture in too deep, lest our rubber soles carry some root fungus that could be a potential exterminator of native plants. We walk softly along the path, looking for kangaroos and wallabies, hawks, emu, cassowaries and wedge-tailed eagles. The tracker brings us to understand the importance of being respectful of all we see. “Without conservation, these animals and plants would die out, and without these valuable companions, the journey to Kangaroo Island would be a lonelier one,” he says. The closest kangaroos are about 20 feet away. They are clearly used to being given the top spot in the evolutionary chain here, and are unruffled by my presence as they go about their daily business — eating and playing. But when they see me raise my camera to shoot, they stand stock still, as if playing a game of shadows. The locals are game for any kind of exploration or adventure — an exemplary model for travellers of any sort. We are invited to join them and fish for our own lunch. Snapper or salmon anyone? Nature at its best The beaches here are a delight. The water on Vivonne Bay for instance whacks the long, curved, sandy coastline with cheeky audacity. On the empty beaches, you can hear the lascivious song of the sea, punctuated by the cry of a pelican or the call of a shore-waddling bird. The only footprints visible on the sandy strip are those of tiny penguins coming home to roost. Sunset is best viewed reclining upon the unique cliff- top formations at Kirkpatrick Point called the Remarkable Rocks. Walking amid these granite lichen covered giants that look like figures from our deepest subconscious, or perhaps like characters in a Dali painting, we contemplate once more the power that is nature and the fragility of human life. At night, amid the sound of the waves and the call of little penguins, we stumble out of bed and go for guided walks by torchlight. But every paradise must have its snakes. “How does one make a livelihood in this Eden?” I ask. The guide chuckles, “The farmers work the land, some also showcase it to people travelling through. Some invest in quad bikes, others create luxury resorts — all to create smoother infrastructure from which to experience the island. The result of living amid this exceptional ecosystem is also a thriving visual culture, with an estimated 10% of the island’s population engaged with different art forms — from painting to installation.” “The sin,” he says pointing expansively in the direction of the sea, “is not in having everything, but in failing to recognize it.” In the distance a chatty yellow- tailed black cockatoo shrieks her approval.