Of all the passports in the world which one may hold there are few more desired than a navy blue one sporting a red kangaroo and emu on its cover. These two creatures are merely white outlines on the navy backdrop (not actually red and dirty-grey, as all emus should be) but it’s clear that this particular roo is of the red variety because it stands taller than the emu. Emus max out at a height almost as tall as the average male resident of the country and only one kind of kangaroo grows taller than any Joe Bloggs. The red one, the “bad-boy” can weigh in at 90kg and stand at 1.8 metres tall or more. They can box too. These two odd-looking outlines clutch a shield with their puny but savagely clawed arms and their densely plumed, broad breast respectively.
This shield has six separate panels of traditionally British-styled insignia; animals, crowns, and stars which symbolise the six states of the nation, and the original six separate colonies. A seven-pointed star at the top and centre makes sure the remaining few territories scattered around the nation are not forgotten in the count, however, they all have to share one tip and don’t have a point of their own. A dotted array of wattle, the national flora is scattered around a snake-like, horizontal squiggle making a bold underline to what is officially called the Commonwealth Coat of Arms and more colloquially known, in language most locals prefer to express themselves in, the bloody Coat of Arms of Australia - Ay!
(Bloody is a popular idiom. In this context it refers to a perceived sense of national pride rather than the plasma-containing life’s liquid extracted by any trained and competent phlebotomist.)
It’s widely accepted that the roo and the emu hold the escutcheon or shield not because they are two of the coolest, weirdest or even biggest native land-based fauna but because they famously cannot walk backwards or hop backwards as Big Red’s case may be. This supposedly signifies a nation forever moving forwards. That’s progress, summarised in a word, but perhaps one could argue to never look back is to ignore the past or the journey thus taken. Historically, Australia has struggled with such issues. Confronting issues of the past head-on will always be a more uncomfortable ride rather than opting with an out-of-sight, out-of-mind jaunt or frolic in the countryside. And if there’s anything to be said for Australia’s history and its past issues, it’s quite the spectrum of colour.
As I gaze upon my Australian passport now, I find it hard to make out any colour at all. New world passports are supposed to be blue but it seems black, to me. The USA, Canada, Australia and many Caribbean new-ish states have blue passports, except New Zealand. The Kiwi passport is jet black with a sexy silver trim. (Although the Kiwi is a weird-looking and flightless bird-like most avian species native to New Zealand, the term is not derogatory in any way.) Native to New Zealand, the Maori were such fierce warriors they could not be conquered by colonials and in the end, made a pact with the foreign settlers. These days the trendy word is invaders. The Maori and British both signed a treaty of Waitangi which gave the Maori more of equal status in the eyes of the British government instead of being of lesser than equal status which the natives of North America and Australia were arguably ill subject to during colonisation and still are, in a way, even today.
When I open my dark-coloured passport it’s a privilege to flip through 37 numbered pages of aesthetically detailed and uniquely Australian images. I could go through every page of the passport but that would chew over 1000 words so here are a few of my favourites.
The first page features a kookaburra, a wonderfully audacious bird with a recognisable call. One can often hear them raucously giggling from atop the blue gums in established and leafy suburbs at whatever’s the latest in-joke. If you’re eating a sandwich outside, beware. The kookaburra might snatch your Vegemite delight from your grasp before you can take a bite. I’ve seen it happen. It then customarily will rub in the successful robbery with a chuckle.
Page 4 is a bunch of camels and although not native to Australia the country houses the biggest population of feral camels. Mathematically every Aussie citizen has almost a 10 per cent stake in a wild camel. There are over 2 million of them. Bloody camels! (Colloquial - This time derogatory.)
Page 14 is a dingo which is Australia’s wolf equivalent or in a more bogan expression, a wild dog, and it’s the only mammal not recently introduced to the land. Examples being sheep, cattle, domestic pets and in the words of one Elma Fudd, “Pesky wabbits!”
Just past the halfway point and biometric page is a common dirt road on page 20 and the typical emu on page 21 which ironically one would probably find loitering on said dirt road, annoyingly.
The next page is a 4x4 (with a necessary bullbar - a roo or even emu destroyer) hauling a caravan which could be a couple of grey nomads exploring the outback in their retirement. Grey nomads are well-off Aussies who sell up their estates and buy an off-road vehicle with sufficient trailed living quarters to explore the wide expanses of a nation which can never be fully explored in any lifetime. Ironically on the next page is a frilled-neck lizard which is what some of these grey-nomads might look like under their fine Akubras.
Page 30 is a road train. A huge rig consisting of the prime mover which looks like a semi-trailer engine on steroids with a number of trailers or semi-trailers in tow. Four or five. They are beasts!
On the last page, I am not sure if I am reading inadvertently into anything here but it’s a third of a page of Aboriginal dot artwork. It’s interesting to me that an Aboriginal tribute be left to last. Is it a piss-take? Wait! I see there is more art on the Observations page at the start of the pocket-sized booklet adjacent to the photo ID. This Aussie passport is bookended by a tradition of artwork dating back tens of thousands of years. Traditions passed down from generation to generation with Dreamtime stories and art lessons. Maybe the Aborigine will be the beginning and the end of the Australian story. The alpha and perhaps the omega. Only time will tell...
Curiously the Aboriginal flag, quite the beautiful flag, features on the front of my passport. Don’t recall it on my previous passports. The flag has a circle in its centre like the Japanese flag but a yellow one not red as with Japan. The yellow circle symbolises the sun which cannot be escaped in Australia and would arguably be responsible for everything that is good in Australia like the beautiful flora and unique fauna and ace weather and everything that is bad like horrendous weather and of course, skin cancer. Behind the sun the space is cut horizontally with the top half being black and the bottom half red. Black symbolises the colour of the people. Red symbolises the colour of the land and the spiritual connection Aborigines have to their land. As far as the aesthetics of flags go, I like it. There is a nice colour balance, geometry and simplicity.
It’s interesting to me that this geometric representation made it onto the front cover of the Australian passport. I grew up chronically aware of the tensions that exist between white and black in my home town and in the country in general. Thinking back, in 2000 at the Sydney Olympic Games Cathy Freeman paraded the Aboriginal Flag on top of the Australian flag during her lap of honour after winning gold in the 400m. She stirred up world media about the plight of the Aboriginal people. Maybe reconciliation is finally happening with an outline of the Aboriginal flag on the front of the Aussie passport. Interesting how times change...
What irony I find myself in now as I slap myself on the forehead and glance at my second passport - the Aboriginal flag is on my burgundy coloured one too. Google reveals the Aboriginal flag outline is on every passport, in the world. I realise, calling myself a knob, that this is the symbol for the biometric chip and the electronics found in any modern passport.
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Apart from being a pretty booklet with an artificial though pleasant plastic smell, this is a good passport to own. About 0.33% of the world’s population holds one which makes it a rare commodity that is not easily traded. In fact, you don’t have to trade it anymore. Since 2002 Australians are able to be dual nationalists - Or is it dual nationals? Citizens of Australia can simultaneously be citizens of another nation without the obligation to renounce their Aussie-ness.
Being an Aussie citizen means you can exist in Australia and have a grand ol’ time, live what I like to call a “cushy” lifestyle, of relative ease. Citizenship also gives you the highly desired navy blue or black-coloured ticket for exploring outside Australia…
Passing from port to port to experience the diversity and complexities this wonderful world has on offer is a privilege and there are fewer passports that allow easier access to the number of places to visit than the Australian. It ranks in the top ten of the strongest passports according to AFAR for the number of places it grants access. The best current passport to hold, adjusted for Covid measures, is the German and not adjusted for the current Covid measures, the Japanese. Interesting to think not even 100 years ago these two countries were undoubtedly the most hated on the planet. Aussie passports might not allow a random fair dinkum fella across as many borders with ease but note, once arrived, an Aussie might be less likely to encounter prejudices from brain-washed locals, fed stories from their elders, still hung up on issues from the mid-20th century. The reality is, everyone loves Aussies. Probably, thanks to a man by the name of Paul Hogan.
Paul Hogan has been described as the quintessential Aussie larrikin. A down-to-earth bloke, an old-school gent with a great sense of humour and skill set the envy of most modern men. He’s probably known best for Crocodile Dundee. A trilogy of movies about a croc hunter who falls in love with an American reporter touring Australia. He keeps her safe in the outback and has to save her from seedy characters even when he visits her in NYC, her town, although another kind of jungle. Paul Hogan wrote the story and was nominated for an Academy Award. Kudos. Hogan is also famous for promoting an Aussie beer brand to the UK and the rest of the world that nobody in Australia actually drinks. At least nobody with a sense of taste. What this man did for all Australian travellers was help build a positive brand or general good reputation. Every Aussie traveller has been blessed by this, free of charge.
When an Aussie goes abroad it really is a simple trick. Most cultures think favourably of us. Prejudices are minimal. We can move from place to place, without any real hassle. Too easy. Best case we are a touring celebrity and worst case we are a novelty, with a sexy accent.
I’ve been around the world a few times. During my travels, I’ve never encountered anyone who didn’t like Aussies except one time in Brighton, UK. There was an altercation with a disgruntled Kiwi. I was at a student party one night, having a good time in their enormous residence. For a reason unbeknownst to me, this bloke straight up called me a racist because apparently, all Aussies are racists. I was also a thief, he bickered on because Australians stole Aboriginal children from their parents thinking they’d be better off raised in religious white households. I can’t deny the truth of what is termed, “the stolen generation” but I was not personally responsible. I wasn’t born. He persisted to yell at me. Not nice. Incongruent with the group vibe and dynamic, the others who were mostly Brits and some continentals were confused and with every passing minute grew irritable. Eventually, he ended his abuse and was hence politely ignored. He then left. Thanks be to God.
Turns out our pleasant host’s bike was stolen from the foyer roughly the same time this Kiwi bailed. Days later, after a process of elimination, it was made clear that it must have been he who committed the sin. So it turns out that he was the thief. And also, a massive bell-end.
As I place my Australian passport back in its sleeve with a smile, I remember times of travel. Happy memories of happy times. So, so many stories like above covering more than 10 years of the ups and downs on the traveller beat. Meeting people, learning from cultures, eating new foods, enjoying novel and interesting experiences, is what life should be all about. Right?
A dear Russian friend of mine has paraphrased a fellow comrade, Ivan Bunin, a poet who said something along the lines that happiness comes from love, interesting work and the opportunity to travel. Out of the three, give me travel…
My patience is running thin.
Thank you for reading.
One love.
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