Liarbird

It all starts with impersonations. We can make ourselves sound like almost anything: chainsaws, other birds, cameras and even koalas. Pretty soon we are telling all kinds of lies: big lies, little lies, white lies, porky pies, and big fat whoppers.

Liarbird. Philip Bunting

(Warning: This post may contain fibbing, faking, fabricating, or straight-out lying.)

July 2019. The first time I set foot in an Australian coffee shop and ordered a “weird long black with a dash of milk“. How I struggled to purchase my first cup of coffee, and how I made a complete fool of myself while doing so. I remember holding my open wallet across the coffee shop counter like a little kid, so the barista could choose the proper coins to pay for my hot beverage. Perfect humiliation.

Four years later, and I have practised my coffee-ordering skills (I have graduated to a “large almond cap extra strong extra hot”), though i continue to struggle to recognize the proper coins. Nobody pays with real money in Australia anymore – it’s all tap and pay. And even I wanted to, I am often too lazy to look for my glasses to identify the right coin.

The other day we were learning about Australian coins and bills in Math class and for the first time I had a proper look at each individual coin – with my glasses on! It turned out that most of them had an Australian animal on the reverse side: a feather tailed glider, a frill-necked lizard, an echidna, a platypus, or five kangaroos. And the liar, err, lyrebird. One of Australia’s best-known birds but extremely shy. Encountering a lyrebird was almost as impossible as ordering a coffee in a local coffee shop and paying for it with the proper coins.

During our past winter break, just having returned from the hot and humid Canadian summer, a colleague of mine invited me to the Southern Highlands, two-hours south of Sydney. Renowned for wineries, excellent cafés and restaurants, some of the best waterfalls in Sydney and of course, epic hikes and lookouts. We wanted to explore the area and decided on a short little hike to the Fitzroy Falls through a eucalyptus forest, with rainforest areas and thick bush covering the ground. 

The morning had started quite early and unusually cold – so cold that there was frost on the lawn and a thin layer of ice on the windshield of our car. Not the thick layer of ice we get in Canada, that requires an ice pick and an axe to get through. But still – there was ice in paradise! My first frost in Australia. Temperatures had dipped below zero during the night and the insides of the Airbnb, we were staying at, did not feel much warmer than that. The bone-chilling cold in the house drove us to the warmth of our car and its seat heaters, and off we went to the Fitzroy Falls in Morton National Park – toasty bums and perfect coffees in hand.

Shortly before nine, we arrived at the enormous park with cascading waterfalls, imposing gorges, and lush rainforest full of wildlife. And we had it all to ourselves! Maybe it was too early, or maybe it was too cold, but on our short walk along the trail, we did not meet a human soul. Nor did we see any animal other than a few birds: cockatoos and kookaburras, bowerbirds and crimson Rosella. And all of a sudden, long brown tail feathers rustling in the bush, and we heard the distinct call of a big fat liar – the Lyrebird!

A ground-dwelling Australian bird, it has the impressive ability to mimic natural and artificial sounds from its environment. Its fossils dating back to about 15 million years, this shy animal was an excellent imposter and liar! The better the faking, the more popular the male bird with the ladies! The fake call and the impressive S-shaped tail feathers that resemble the shape of a lyre instrument – hence its name.

Just in my head, it was spelled l-i-a-r bird and looked more like the character from a picture book I would read with my class. And why not – after all, this bird was very good at faking it! Winter was its mating season, and he was fibbing and faking away!

Speaking of winter and liars – some of my friends and family members abroad at times seem to think I am lying when I tell them about the Australian winter.

“Yeah right,” they say, “some kind of winter, when there are blue skies and palm trees!”

And, I agree, while winter here in Sydney does not compare to the bone-chilling, heart-breaking, snot-in-your-nose-freezing cold in Canada, there have definitely been signs all around me that scream: It’s winter!

And I am not making this up!

True Winter Sign #1

While winter in Australia officially lasts from June until September, the first signs of winter appeared in April.

Daylight savings time had ended on the second Sunday in April, and all of a sudden the sun sets at 5 in the afternoon. And I don’t mean a slow, long-lasting setting of the sun that gives you enough time to make it home before it gets dark. No, I mean a quick and sudden night-falling that lasts only minutes. You can literally watch the sun drop. I was out for a run at the lagoon that second Sunday in April, and still had a few kilometres to go, when the sky suddenly started to get dark and went from blue to orange to purple to pitch-black! I must have run my personal best that afternoon, so I did not have to run through the dark forest full of dangerous creatures like snakes and spiders and boxing kangaroos.

True Winter Sign #2

Also in April, I made the painful realization that winter in Sydney comes as an overnight shock! Not a gentle cooling of temperatures – no! One night you sleep in a t-shirt and shorts, the next you get your double Doona cover (aka duvet), blankets, flannelette sheets, flannelette PJ, flannelette everything out and shiver yourself to sleep.

I had left my windows open while I was gone to Germany for two weeks and when I returned to my little granny flat, the inside was so cold I could see my breath. It took my gas cook top and the pathetic little space heater I had purchased before my trip to get at least one room in the tiny place somewhat warm. Houses here are often built of wood with very little insulation and no central heating, and I learned quickly to leave my windows shut.

True Winter Sign #3

Everyone starts to wear their winter gear – despite it being plus 10 degrees outside! Waiting at the bus stop in the morning, I started seeing people wearing fur-lined UGG boots, thick puffer jackets, woollen beanie hats and tights instead of shorts. Sometimes UGG boots and shorts. Or woollen hats and bikinis. It is a bit confusing for a Canadian, I have to admit.

But, after a few weeks of secretly mocking the over-the-top winter wear of the locals, I started to do the same. Layers of sweaters and a jacket and a scarf when I leave the house in the morning at 5 degrees. A t-shirt and sweat run down my face when I return in the afternoon to a sunny 23 degrees. My UGG boots I only wear inside to keep my feet warm – give me another year, and I’ll break down and wear them in public.

True Winter Sign #4

You know it’s winter in Australia when the surrounding animals change. And I have to say, I love it! All the tiny critters like cockroaches and spiders and ants disappear, and it’s a rather peaceful time in my apartment. When you can go to the toilet in the middle of the night without stepping on a giant bug or open your Nutella jar without being greeted by an army of ants. I do, however, miss the little gecko in my shower a bit.

Instead, you see whales and dolphins swim by in the ocean to migrate from their Southern Ocean feeding grounds to warmer waters to mate and have their babies. The only animal that stays with me all year round is my loyal friend, the kookaburra. Except that he did not get the memo about the time change and started acting up at 4 in the morning instead of five.

True Winter Sign #5

You know it is winter in Australia, when you see Christmas hats and roast dinners at the local Pub – Christmas in July is a thing, though I am not sure why. There is the Christmas Market at our school in August and people line up to enjoy hot mulled wine in 20 degrees and sunshine.

It is hard to believe that this is already my third winter here in Australia. That it’s already been a whole year since I arrived. And yet, every day I learn something new about this beautiful country and its traditions and habits.

Ocean winter swim is a thing here in Australia and I watch the locals swim into the rising sun every morning at the beach while I drink my almond cap, extra strong, extra hot.

One day I took all my courage and went in the freezing cold water myself. Barely able to breath, I did some strokes to create heat, when I saw three whales in the distance, jumping synchronously out of the ocean, dancing just for me. And when I got out of the cold water and climbed on my kangaroo to hop back home, I looked back and waved at whales with my mitten-clad hand. Or something like that.

Fibbing is fun and almost never gets you into trouble. Just like the liar bird said!

Cheers!