I leave for London on Tuesday after being home for over three months. It definitely felt good to take a few deep breaths and let life's pulse return to normal. I had a steady dose of family time, good food, and the beach. But the world can only turn so slow until you feel like you have to quicken your pace like a gerbil on a spinning wheel. So I'm leaving again. For the next ten weeks I'll be tramping through Europe like a fat kid cut loose in a chocolate shop.
Here's my itinerary as of today:
London
Amsterdam
Belgium (Brussels, Brugge)
Germany (Cologne, Rhine Valley, Frankfurt, Munich, Berlin)
Prague
Budapest
Vienna
Switzerland (Interlaken, Murren)
Italy (Amalfi Coast, Naples, Rome, Cinque Terra, Florence, Venice)
French Riviera
Spain (Barcelona, Madrid, ?)
Portugal (Lisbon, ?)
London
Home
But who knows. Backpacking trips have a tendency to make unexpected stops and turns. We'll see where this one takes me.
Right now I'm enjoying my last beach day. Early September is prime time for it. The tourists have left and school is back in session. But as summer winds down, the beach slowly loses its allure. The gentle ocean breeze that once gave relief from the summer sun now burrows deep into my skin. The shadow from my beach chair reaches out further across the sand. Tiny waves roll under my chair as the tide creeps in. It's time to leave.
So pack the bag. Park to drive. Climb the crest and ride the swell. My chocolate shop awaits.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
sing me back home
Well I've been home for two weeks now. Back to seeing SUVs, one-cent coins, and Rascals sputtering under obese butt-cheeks. The jet lag aside, it's taken some time to get acclimated to living at home again. Eating home cooked meals, watching Boston sports, sleeping in my own bed, and catching up with family/friends have been the welcome adjustments. Waking up to the same scenery has been the hard part. Life is more interesting when you don't know what's around the next corner.
My experience in Australia and New Zealand can't really be expressed in a few paragraphs. All the parts of my trip can't be summed up into one grand truth revealed. But I will say that my favorite part of travelling is inevitably linked with my biggest regret. Throughout seven months I got to know hundreds of different people and places, but none of them as well as I would have liked. The faces and places flash before your eyes in an instant, like stains on the pages of a flip-book. Maybe I flipped the pages too fast.
Looking back, I think getting from A to B was a lot more fun than the destination itself. I travelled by foot, car, plane, bus, train, subway, ferry, 4WD, sailboat, 18-wheeler, bicycle, pontoon, RV, catamaran, and motorized rickshaw. By the end, I learned that dependability comes at a premium, and rickshaw travel is underrated.
I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my updates and random thoughts. It's definitely been a good experience for me. I'm not going to shut the site down yet. I plan on taking off again in the not-too-distant future. I'd like to spend the summer at home and plan a trip around Europe during the fall. We'll see how that works out.
I'll be making the rounds this summer so give me a shout, I'd love to catch up. Until then, take care, and keep the compass spinning.
My experience in Australia and New Zealand can't really be expressed in a few paragraphs. All the parts of my trip can't be summed up into one grand truth revealed. But I will say that my favorite part of travelling is inevitably linked with my biggest regret. Throughout seven months I got to know hundreds of different people and places, but none of them as well as I would have liked. The faces and places flash before your eyes in an instant, like stains on the pages of a flip-book. Maybe I flipped the pages too fast.
Looking back, I think getting from A to B was a lot more fun than the destination itself. I travelled by foot, car, plane, bus, train, subway, ferry, 4WD, sailboat, 18-wheeler, bicycle, pontoon, RV, catamaran, and motorized rickshaw. By the end, I learned that dependability comes at a premium, and rickshaw travel is underrated.
I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my updates and random thoughts. It's definitely been a good experience for me. I'm not going to shut the site down yet. I plan on taking off again in the not-too-distant future. I'd like to spend the summer at home and plan a trip around Europe during the fall. We'll see how that works out.
I'll be making the rounds this summer so give me a shout, I'd love to catch up. Until then, take care, and keep the compass spinning.
Monday, May 3, 2010
my dear watson
I'm back in Queenstown after taking the southern loop through Milford Sound, Invercargill, and Dunedin. Traveling by bus has allowed me to see most all of NZ, but without much of a stopover at any one spot. In the past three weeks I've toured the North island from Auckland to Wellington, and have seen the western side of the South island. On Thursday I leave Queenstown for Christchurch and the return to Auckland.
Highlights so far have been a 20k hike over volcanoes, taking a cruise through Milford Sound in squall-like conditions, a 5hr mountain bike trip around Queenstown, hiking up Franz-Josef Glacier, surfing at the world's prominent left-breaking beach in Raglan, and having the best burger of my life at Fergburger in Queenstown.
I fly out of Auckland on May 17th. I'll spend a couple days in L.A. before heading back for the East Coast on the 19th. That gives me about two weeks of traveling left. Hard to believe it's come to an end. It's almost time for the day-after-Christmas hangover.
For the past seven months I've been mostly out of touch with the rest of the world. I couldn't tell you how the economy is doing, which teams are in the NBA playoffs, or who's doing the Late Show now. I guess that's to be expected when you live on an island.
There was one news story that caught my eye in Melbourne one morning while I was enjoying a bowl of soggy corn flakes. It was the story of Jessica Watson. Maybe you've heard of her. She's a sixteen-year-old Australian who is about to become the youngest person to complete a solo sailing trip around the world. She set out from Sydney Harbour in mid-October and is set to return in early May.
Her journey was met with a good deal of controversy. Many Australians were outraged that her parents let her set out on her own at such a young age with nothing to protect her from the cruel sea but a bit of fibreglass and a set of canvas sails. They think the ocean is too vast and dangerous for a girl who's not even old enough to see an R rated movie by herself. They think her parents are irresponsible for encouraging her. They think they know what's best for her after watching the news from an armchair with a warm cup of coffee. Of course it didn't help when she T-boned a 63 ton freighter shortly after setting out. So maybe they're right. But I doubt she even cares.
Somethings I think of her when I settle down under a think blanket in a bed that doesn't sway through the night. I think of her curled up in her little pink sailboat, riding out a storm while the black swells and salty gusts carry her further into the deep. I think of her waking up every morning, sometimes thousands of kilometers from another human being, and planning how she will use the elements to bring her closer to her dream.
I heard a fifteen-year-old recently embarked on a trip that would set a new record. If Jessica does make it home, her record would only stand for a few months. Australians feel a sense of disappointment for her. They must assume she set out for bragging rights and a TV spot. The real disappointment is the majority of people think she's just chasing a record.
I think I've been caught up in her story because despite never having met her, I feel like I understand her better than most of an entire continent. Not that the circumstances of our travels are similar. They don't compare at all. But I know what drives her. The pull of the unknown is a powerful force, and the feeling of success over it is a drug.
But while I think I understand her, I can only imagine what it feels like to live truly alone for seven months, at the mercy of all the elements, under a map of stars with nothing but your own thoughts and the constant rhythm of waves lapping against your home to keep you company. I imagine it's more exhilarating than watching TV from an armchair, or digging into soggy corn flakes.
She's due to arrive home any day now. She'll sail into Sydney to a warm welcoming party and the family and friends she's had to live without since October. Pretty impressive when you figure the average sixteen-year-old can't survive a full day without unlimited texting, YouTube, and The Bachelor.
I hope she found whatever she was after out there across a whole planet of ocean. I hope Sydney Harbour is calm when she ties up her pink sailboat and steps onto solid ground for the first time in over half a year. When she does, I'll be smiling. Most likely from a comfortable living room couch.
Highlights so far have been a 20k hike over volcanoes, taking a cruise through Milford Sound in squall-like conditions, a 5hr mountain bike trip around Queenstown, hiking up Franz-Josef Glacier, surfing at the world's prominent left-breaking beach in Raglan, and having the best burger of my life at Fergburger in Queenstown.
I fly out of Auckland on May 17th. I'll spend a couple days in L.A. before heading back for the East Coast on the 19th. That gives me about two weeks of traveling left. Hard to believe it's come to an end. It's almost time for the day-after-Christmas hangover.
For the past seven months I've been mostly out of touch with the rest of the world. I couldn't tell you how the economy is doing, which teams are in the NBA playoffs, or who's doing the Late Show now. I guess that's to be expected when you live on an island.
There was one news story that caught my eye in Melbourne one morning while I was enjoying a bowl of soggy corn flakes. It was the story of Jessica Watson. Maybe you've heard of her. She's a sixteen-year-old Australian who is about to become the youngest person to complete a solo sailing trip around the world. She set out from Sydney Harbour in mid-October and is set to return in early May.
Her journey was met with a good deal of controversy. Many Australians were outraged that her parents let her set out on her own at such a young age with nothing to protect her from the cruel sea but a bit of fibreglass and a set of canvas sails. They think the ocean is too vast and dangerous for a girl who's not even old enough to see an R rated movie by herself. They think her parents are irresponsible for encouraging her. They think they know what's best for her after watching the news from an armchair with a warm cup of coffee. Of course it didn't help when she T-boned a 63 ton freighter shortly after setting out. So maybe they're right. But I doubt she even cares.
Somethings I think of her when I settle down under a think blanket in a bed that doesn't sway through the night. I think of her curled up in her little pink sailboat, riding out a storm while the black swells and salty gusts carry her further into the deep. I think of her waking up every morning, sometimes thousands of kilometers from another human being, and planning how she will use the elements to bring her closer to her dream.
I heard a fifteen-year-old recently embarked on a trip that would set a new record. If Jessica does make it home, her record would only stand for a few months. Australians feel a sense of disappointment for her. They must assume she set out for bragging rights and a TV spot. The real disappointment is the majority of people think she's just chasing a record.
I think I've been caught up in her story because despite never having met her, I feel like I understand her better than most of an entire continent. Not that the circumstances of our travels are similar. They don't compare at all. But I know what drives her. The pull of the unknown is a powerful force, and the feeling of success over it is a drug.
But while I think I understand her, I can only imagine what it feels like to live truly alone for seven months, at the mercy of all the elements, under a map of stars with nothing but your own thoughts and the constant rhythm of waves lapping against your home to keep you company. I imagine it's more exhilarating than watching TV from an armchair, or digging into soggy corn flakes.
She's due to arrive home any day now. She'll sail into Sydney to a warm welcoming party and the family and friends she's had to live without since October. Pretty impressive when you figure the average sixteen-year-old can't survive a full day without unlimited texting, YouTube, and The Bachelor.
I hope she found whatever she was after out there across a whole planet of ocean. I hope Sydney Harbour is calm when she ties up her pink sailboat and steps onto solid ground for the first time in over half a year. When she does, I'll be smiling. Most likely from a comfortable living room couch.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
damn right i got the blues
A couple years ago I as sitting in a pub in Bridgton, enjoying a Red Stripe, and I heard a local woman sin, "Angel From Montgomery." I'd never heard the song before, but it blew me away. It stuck in my head for weeks. I poured through iTunes looking for the song, and probably downloaded seven or eight different versions. None compared the one I heard live.
I asked a friend of mine who as there with me that night (and who knows a great deal more about music than I do) if she had a favorite version of the song. She told me, "I think we heard the best version." I new the moment she said it that she was right.
I think that's why we love live music. Nothing compares. No matter how many times you cook, you can never duplicate grandma's recipe. Live music is the unforgettable experience, and music on your iPod is the photograph.
The Byron Bay Blues Festival was a five day celebration of popular, up and coming, and legendary musicians. Six different stages ran from noon to midnight every day. It featured the blues, folk, country, rock, pop, Cuban dance, tribal beats, and even a Freak Show. With six different live acts going on at once, there was something for everyone.
And it certainly drew a wide variety of people. I heard they sold somewhere around 10,000 tickets. There were hippies, backpackers, families, college students, retired couples, musicians, and the elderly. There were Dead Heads, Acid-heads, Parrot Heads, yahoos, chronic trippers and white Rastas. I think the Freak Show would have been wise to do some active recruiting.
The Festival was a place where there weren't many rules to live by, and even fewer were enforced, yet most everyone got along. There were drug-sniffing dogs at the entrance every day, but I think they may have all had a cold. I also fear I may have been exposed to enough Petchuli to ruin my sense of smell forever.
It was a place where you might see a twelve-year old with a can of beer, a grandmother smoking a joint, and little toddlers running around with their parents' phone numbers scrawled down their forearms. Bad parenting and self-awareness together at last.
To accommodate such a crowd, the festival provided three bars with a stock of drinks that could have safely carried the city of Boston through Prohibition, dozens of portable toilets, an extensive merchandise tent, a food court with every style of cuisine imaginable, handfuls of little stands selling jewelry, hats, and even guitars, a 20 meter Ferris Wheel, First-Aid huts, a day care center, a massage station, and a tent set aside for your friendly Jim Beam retailer.
They were prepared for everything. Even the rain. Every stage and stand was covered by circus-style tents. They shipped in truckloads of woodchips to battle the fields of mud. It only rained for one night and the mud lasted all week. Every night I had to hose down my sandals and feet.
The headliners were Jack Johnson, The Fray, The John Butler Trio, and Crowded House. After that, the most popular shows were Buddy Guy, Lyle Lovett, Jeff Beck, Bela Fleck, ALO, and the Buena Vista Orchestra. Highlights for me were hearing Justin Townes Earle sing Atlantic City, The Swell Season (the duo who won an Oscar for Falling Slowly), and The Old Crow Medicine Show's entire act. Anything with a banjo and a fiddle is enough to keep me riveted.
Well that's the full report on Blues Fest. Not as comprehensive or timely as I would've liked but internet access is more of a rarity while touring NZ and my material for more entries is getting backed up. Right now I'm on a bus tour and traveling south through the North island. Will check in again soon.
I asked a friend of mine who as there with me that night (and who knows a great deal more about music than I do) if she had a favorite version of the song. She told me, "I think we heard the best version." I new the moment she said it that she was right.
I think that's why we love live music. Nothing compares. No matter how many times you cook, you can never duplicate grandma's recipe. Live music is the unforgettable experience, and music on your iPod is the photograph.
The Byron Bay Blues Festival was a five day celebration of popular, up and coming, and legendary musicians. Six different stages ran from noon to midnight every day. It featured the blues, folk, country, rock, pop, Cuban dance, tribal beats, and even a Freak Show. With six different live acts going on at once, there was something for everyone.
And it certainly drew a wide variety of people. I heard they sold somewhere around 10,000 tickets. There were hippies, backpackers, families, college students, retired couples, musicians, and the elderly. There were Dead Heads, Acid-heads, Parrot Heads, yahoos, chronic trippers and white Rastas. I think the Freak Show would have been wise to do some active recruiting.
The Festival was a place where there weren't many rules to live by, and even fewer were enforced, yet most everyone got along. There were drug-sniffing dogs at the entrance every day, but I think they may have all had a cold. I also fear I may have been exposed to enough Petchuli to ruin my sense of smell forever.
It was a place where you might see a twelve-year old with a can of beer, a grandmother smoking a joint, and little toddlers running around with their parents' phone numbers scrawled down their forearms. Bad parenting and self-awareness together at last.
To accommodate such a crowd, the festival provided three bars with a stock of drinks that could have safely carried the city of Boston through Prohibition, dozens of portable toilets, an extensive merchandise tent, a food court with every style of cuisine imaginable, handfuls of little stands selling jewelry, hats, and even guitars, a 20 meter Ferris Wheel, First-Aid huts, a day care center, a massage station, and a tent set aside for your friendly Jim Beam retailer.
They were prepared for everything. Even the rain. Every stage and stand was covered by circus-style tents. They shipped in truckloads of woodchips to battle the fields of mud. It only rained for one night and the mud lasted all week. Every night I had to hose down my sandals and feet.
The headliners were Jack Johnson, The Fray, The John Butler Trio, and Crowded House. After that, the most popular shows were Buddy Guy, Lyle Lovett, Jeff Beck, Bela Fleck, ALO, and the Buena Vista Orchestra. Highlights for me were hearing Justin Townes Earle sing Atlantic City, The Swell Season (the duo who won an Oscar for Falling Slowly), and The Old Crow Medicine Show's entire act. Anything with a banjo and a fiddle is enough to keep me riveted.
Well that's the full report on Blues Fest. Not as comprehensive or timely as I would've liked but internet access is more of a rarity while touring NZ and my material for more entries is getting backed up. Right now I'm on a bus tour and traveling south through the North island. Will check in again soon.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
whirlwinds and tours
Back on the East Coast. Back to bustling cities, temperate weather and XXXX Beer. Another ride on the backpacker superhighway. This time, though, I'll be a passenger. A lowly dependent. Completely at the mercy of bus timetables, train stations, and airport ETDs.
Brisbane is now the only place in Australia I've visited twice. It's comfortably familiar. I'm even staying at the same hostel. There's a definite advantage to traveling somewhere you've already been. I know where and when to get free internet, the cheapest food, a bus ticket, and a refreshing swim (the only inner-city beach in Australia). I was even able to score free breakfast the past two days from my hostel's communal food shelf. Scrambled eggs with cheese and peppers, and two egg and cheese sandwiches on toast. True rarities in the world of hostel free-food shelves. Nothing like glorious triumph before most people have woken up.
I left Darwin late Monday night. My flight left at two in the morning amid rainstorms and lightning. Par for the course up there. Darwin was a nice little tropical city. I would've liked to have spent more than two nights there, but not much longer than that. It reminded me of Cairns, but with a few more stories on its buildings and a higher local-to-backpacker ratio.
Darwin has the unique distinction of being one of the few cities in the world to be destroyed twice. Not an attribute most cities would revel in, but Australia is a funny place, and the Northern Territory is certainly the crazy uncle of all the Australian states. It's like the deep south in the US, except without all the religion.
The first time was in 1942 when a surprise Japanese bombing pulled Australia into WWII. The number of bombs dropped and the resulting damage was far greater than that at Pearl Harbour. It happened just a few days after Valentine's Day. Darwin was destroyed again in 1974 when Cyclone Tracy ripped through the city with winds strong enough to break all the wind-force gauges. According to the damage, they likely reached over 250 km/h. The Cyclone hit during the early hours of Christmas morning. If ever there was a people wary of their holidays, it would be Darwinians. I have to imagine that New Year's Eve, St. Patrick's Day and Easter are tenuous mixtures of cautious celebration and nervous glances skyward.
I leave Brisbane tomorrow for Byron Bay and the Blues Festival, which I can only be disappointed by since every Australian I've met has told me it's the single most epic event in Australia. Perhaps the world. Anything short of an End of Days celebration will be a letdown. Some good music would be nice, too.
The past ten days have been a major highlight of my time here. I toured around the Red Center (Uluru NP, Kata Tjuta NP, King's Canyon), Kakadu and Litchfield NPs, and everywhere between (Devils Marbles, Katherine Gorge). The three trips were separate tours with groups ranging from 11-18 people. Each group was made up of different people each time, but there were usually a few familiar faces from the previous tour. We slept in tents every night, and always woke up early enough to see the sun rise. There were even two nights where I got to sleep outside under the stars in a sleeping bag. That was a great experience, even though massive spiders were constantly crawling through my thoughts.
Highlights were a sunrise and sunset at Ayers Rock, a crocodile boat tour where we saw a 4-5 meter giant (it rocked the boat with its tail and gave us all a scare), and too many waterfalls and swimming holes to remember. I've posted two hefty photo albums on facebook for anyone interested in perusing.
Another notable highlight was the food: it was inclusive, all-you-can-eat, and damn good cookin. Every night we were treated to a BBQ of Kangaroo steaks, Buffalo sausages, or beef schnitzels. My physique has taken a bit of a hit, but it was well worth it. Now back to whatever is on sale at Coles.
I'll check back in when I get to Sydney after the Blues Fest. I'll spend two nights there before flying out for New Zealand. After five weeks in New Zealand, I make a brief stop in LA and then it's back home on May 19th. Crazy to think my time in Australia is almost over. I'm very much looking forward to seeing the family and catching up with everyone, but not so much excited about leaving this place.
In more disappointing news, I'll almost certainly miss Opening Day and the first Sox-Yanks series of the season. As far as bummers go, that ranks pretty high. At least the baseball season is long.
My prediction: Sox 27, Yanks 0. Scutaro hits three home runs and Beckett strikes out 22.
Go Sox.
Brisbane is now the only place in Australia I've visited twice. It's comfortably familiar. I'm even staying at the same hostel. There's a definite advantage to traveling somewhere you've already been. I know where and when to get free internet, the cheapest food, a bus ticket, and a refreshing swim (the only inner-city beach in Australia). I was even able to score free breakfast the past two days from my hostel's communal food shelf. Scrambled eggs with cheese and peppers, and two egg and cheese sandwiches on toast. True rarities in the world of hostel free-food shelves. Nothing like glorious triumph before most people have woken up.
I left Darwin late Monday night. My flight left at two in the morning amid rainstorms and lightning. Par for the course up there. Darwin was a nice little tropical city. I would've liked to have spent more than two nights there, but not much longer than that. It reminded me of Cairns, but with a few more stories on its buildings and a higher local-to-backpacker ratio.
Darwin has the unique distinction of being one of the few cities in the world to be destroyed twice. Not an attribute most cities would revel in, but Australia is a funny place, and the Northern Territory is certainly the crazy uncle of all the Australian states. It's like the deep south in the US, except without all the religion.
The first time was in 1942 when a surprise Japanese bombing pulled Australia into WWII. The number of bombs dropped and the resulting damage was far greater than that at Pearl Harbour. It happened just a few days after Valentine's Day. Darwin was destroyed again in 1974 when Cyclone Tracy ripped through the city with winds strong enough to break all the wind-force gauges. According to the damage, they likely reached over 250 km/h. The Cyclone hit during the early hours of Christmas morning. If ever there was a people wary of their holidays, it would be Darwinians. I have to imagine that New Year's Eve, St. Patrick's Day and Easter are tenuous mixtures of cautious celebration and nervous glances skyward.
I leave Brisbane tomorrow for Byron Bay and the Blues Festival, which I can only be disappointed by since every Australian I've met has told me it's the single most epic event in Australia. Perhaps the world. Anything short of an End of Days celebration will be a letdown. Some good music would be nice, too.
The past ten days have been a major highlight of my time here. I toured around the Red Center (Uluru NP, Kata Tjuta NP, King's Canyon), Kakadu and Litchfield NPs, and everywhere between (Devils Marbles, Katherine Gorge). The three trips were separate tours with groups ranging from 11-18 people. Each group was made up of different people each time, but there were usually a few familiar faces from the previous tour. We slept in tents every night, and always woke up early enough to see the sun rise. There were even two nights where I got to sleep outside under the stars in a sleeping bag. That was a great experience, even though massive spiders were constantly crawling through my thoughts.
Highlights were a sunrise and sunset at Ayers Rock, a crocodile boat tour where we saw a 4-5 meter giant (it rocked the boat with its tail and gave us all a scare), and too many waterfalls and swimming holes to remember. I've posted two hefty photo albums on facebook for anyone interested in perusing.
Another notable highlight was the food: it was inclusive, all-you-can-eat, and damn good cookin. Every night we were treated to a BBQ of Kangaroo steaks, Buffalo sausages, or beef schnitzels. My physique has taken a bit of a hit, but it was well worth it. Now back to whatever is on sale at Coles.
I'll check back in when I get to Sydney after the Blues Fest. I'll spend two nights there before flying out for New Zealand. After five weeks in New Zealand, I make a brief stop in LA and then it's back home on May 19th. Crazy to think my time in Australia is almost over. I'm very much looking forward to seeing the family and catching up with everyone, but not so much excited about leaving this place.
In more disappointing news, I'll almost certainly miss Opening Day and the first Sox-Yanks series of the season. As far as bummers go, that ranks pretty high. At least the baseball season is long.
My prediction: Sox 27, Yanks 0. Scutaro hits three home runs and Beckett strikes out 22.
Go Sox.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
"small world, dr. jones"
The other day I was hanging out by the pool at my hostel and I heard someone say to me, "Dude, are those Bridgton Academy shorts?" Turns out the guy (Dave) was from Danvers, MA, and has a summer home up in Bridgton (by Bear Pond, for BA readers). I couldn't believe that halfway around the world, on the farthest possible continent, I met someone familiar with my little world of the past three years. He's only the fourth person I've met so far from New England, and the other three were a family from Milton, MA. It was great to finally talk Sox and Pats again. Then we got to talking about BHOP, The Village Tie-Up, Long Lake, and of course, Bray's. It was a welcome trip to a place that had seemed so far away.
We went on commiserating about the lack of Americans down here, how the place is overrun by Germans (sometimes I feel like I'm in an Indiana Jones movie), and everything else we miss about home. In the spirit of my brother's new blog featuring movie lists, I've decided to give a top-5 list of what I miss most (as I said before, family, home, and individual people are exempt).
5. Having my own room to sleep in. I'm sure you can use your imagination and picture the many frustrating scenarios that might arise from sharing a room with seven other people. But in case you can't, here are a few: relentless snoring, loud/obnoxious people at ungodly hours of the morning, thievery, people trying to quietly have sex in the bunk below you, people having loud sex in the bunk below you, sleeping with the lights on, bedbugs, and non-believers in modern hygiene. Since Cairns I've spent 2 nights in a proper bed with the room to myself. Those were two incredible nights.
4. Good, cheap beer. I'd give anything for a PBR. There is some good beer here (James Squire, Fat Yak, Beez Neez, Little Creatures) but it's all pretty expensive. Even the "cheap" stuff is pricey ($50 for a 30-rack) and it tastes like crap. Not that I've ever had a beer I didn't agree with, but in the US at least bad beer is cheap. There's really nothing like savoring a Tallboy you paid $2 for. At a bar here, you pay seven dollars for a pint of soda-water and boot polish. You heard it here first: Australian beer is garbage.
3. Working out. I'm slowing and quietly wasting away. I haven't gone to the gym since October. I'm experiencing the frustration of gradual atrophe, and it's not pleasant. Daily pushups only go so far. On the plus side I'm not eating too much, so at least I'm not getting fat. That brings me to my next item...
2. Food. Where do I start? I've been in Perth nearly 6 weeks. I'm pretty sure I've cooked pasta for dinner for all but 6 of those nights. Breakfast is always cereal, maybe some toast. When I'm on the road sometimes I only eat Granola bars all day. I haven't had a hot breakfast since November. I really shouldn't complain though. I could eat better, but a small dinner starts at around $20. Dave and I agreed that the foods we miss most are pizza (Oz doesn't do pizza right), a good burger, steak, and chicken wings. I can't wait to get home and order out from Joe's, have a family BBQ, and of course get back to Mom's cookin'.
1. Sports. I've managed to somewhat keep up with baseball and football by downloading the PTI and Mike and Mike podcasts in the public library, but it doesn't compare to falling asleep and waking up to Sportscenter. I missed most of the NFL season, last year's MLB postseason (for the best, it turns out), the Olympics, and I will miss March Madness and the first two months of baseball this year. I think I now know what it must feel like to go into rehab. My withdrawal is reaching the edges of sanity...
So there you have it. A few that almost made it were: snow during Christmas, access to a DVD collection, laying down on a couch and watching TV, taking a nap, a private bathroom, and wearing un-wrinkled clothes.
I finally managed to secure my way out of Perth. I've actually got all my traveling plans worked out for the rest of my time in Australia. On Friday I fly out to Alice Springs, where I'll take a 3-day camping tour of Uluru and its surroundings, then I'll take a bus up to Darwin where I'll take another 3-day camping tour of Kakadu National Park. I'll fly out from Darwin on the 30th for Brisbane, where I can catch a quick bus to Byron Bay for the Blues Fest. It's not the dirt-cheap means of travel I had hoped for, but I think the group tours with other backpackers should be fun.
I'm excited for this Blues Festival. When I bought my ticket, I figured it was just a 5-day concert with local bands and people I've never heard of. Turns out Jack Johnson, Buddy Guy, Jeff Beck, The Fray, The John Butler Trio, Bela Fleck, The Gipsy Kings, 10cc, and Matisyahu will be there. Plus a bunch of people I've never heard of. I can't say I'm a big fan of all of them, but at least I'll recognize a few of the playlists.
I'm not sure how much internet access I'll have from Friday until April, but I'm hoping to write again after my trips to Uluru and Kakadu.
Enjoy a Guinness, everyone.
We went on commiserating about the lack of Americans down here, how the place is overrun by Germans (sometimes I feel like I'm in an Indiana Jones movie), and everything else we miss about home. In the spirit of my brother's new blog featuring movie lists, I've decided to give a top-5 list of what I miss most (as I said before, family, home, and individual people are exempt).
5. Having my own room to sleep in. I'm sure you can use your imagination and picture the many frustrating scenarios that might arise from sharing a room with seven other people. But in case you can't, here are a few: relentless snoring, loud/obnoxious people at ungodly hours of the morning, thievery, people trying to quietly have sex in the bunk below you, people having loud sex in the bunk below you, sleeping with the lights on, bedbugs, and non-believers in modern hygiene. Since Cairns I've spent 2 nights in a proper bed with the room to myself. Those were two incredible nights.
4. Good, cheap beer. I'd give anything for a PBR. There is some good beer here (James Squire, Fat Yak, Beez Neez, Little Creatures) but it's all pretty expensive. Even the "cheap" stuff is pricey ($50 for a 30-rack) and it tastes like crap. Not that I've ever had a beer I didn't agree with, but in the US at least bad beer is cheap. There's really nothing like savoring a Tallboy you paid $2 for. At a bar here, you pay seven dollars for a pint of soda-water and boot polish. You heard it here first: Australian beer is garbage.
3. Working out. I'm slowing and quietly wasting away. I haven't gone to the gym since October. I'm experiencing the frustration of gradual atrophe, and it's not pleasant. Daily pushups only go so far. On the plus side I'm not eating too much, so at least I'm not getting fat. That brings me to my next item...
2. Food. Where do I start? I've been in Perth nearly 6 weeks. I'm pretty sure I've cooked pasta for dinner for all but 6 of those nights. Breakfast is always cereal, maybe some toast. When I'm on the road sometimes I only eat Granola bars all day. I haven't had a hot breakfast since November. I really shouldn't complain though. I could eat better, but a small dinner starts at around $20. Dave and I agreed that the foods we miss most are pizza (Oz doesn't do pizza right), a good burger, steak, and chicken wings. I can't wait to get home and order out from Joe's, have a family BBQ, and of course get back to Mom's cookin'.
1. Sports. I've managed to somewhat keep up with baseball and football by downloading the PTI and Mike and Mike podcasts in the public library, but it doesn't compare to falling asleep and waking up to Sportscenter. I missed most of the NFL season, last year's MLB postseason (for the best, it turns out), the Olympics, and I will miss March Madness and the first two months of baseball this year. I think I now know what it must feel like to go into rehab. My withdrawal is reaching the edges of sanity...
So there you have it. A few that almost made it were: snow during Christmas, access to a DVD collection, laying down on a couch and watching TV, taking a nap, a private bathroom, and wearing un-wrinkled clothes.
I finally managed to secure my way out of Perth. I've actually got all my traveling plans worked out for the rest of my time in Australia. On Friday I fly out to Alice Springs, where I'll take a 3-day camping tour of Uluru and its surroundings, then I'll take a bus up to Darwin where I'll take another 3-day camping tour of Kakadu National Park. I'll fly out from Darwin on the 30th for Brisbane, where I can catch a quick bus to Byron Bay for the Blues Fest. It's not the dirt-cheap means of travel I had hoped for, but I think the group tours with other backpackers should be fun.
I'm excited for this Blues Festival. When I bought my ticket, I figured it was just a 5-day concert with local bands and people I've never heard of. Turns out Jack Johnson, Buddy Guy, Jeff Beck, The Fray, The John Butler Trio, Bela Fleck, The Gipsy Kings, 10cc, and Matisyahu will be there. Plus a bunch of people I've never heard of. I can't say I'm a big fan of all of them, but at least I'll recognize a few of the playlists.
I'm not sure how much internet access I'll have from Friday until April, but I'm hoping to write again after my trips to Uluru and Kakadu.
Enjoy a Guinness, everyone.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
a grounded olympian
My departure from Perth has reached desperation-level. DEF-CON 5.
My shifts at work end this week, as does my stay in my hostel. I have a ticket for the Blues Festival in Byron Bay (roughly 4300km east of Perth) which starts April 1st. Before that I'd like to see Ayers Rock and Darwin. A trip to Alice Springs, Darwin, then Byron Bay spans the full length and width of Australia. April 1st gives me less than 3 weeks.
As of today I have no plans for escape.
I've been counting on acquiring a relocation car (a car that needs to be moved from one city to another, free of charge) but so far nothing has come available. I called in to add my name to the waiting list and the following is a rough transcript of my conversation with the woman I spoke with:
"Yes, hi, my name is Conor Sullivan, I'm currently in Perth and looking to go to Darwin.
--"And your phone number, Conor?"
(I give my number)
--"OK and when would you like to leave?"
"As soon as humanly possible."
--"OK we don't have anything available at the moment, but I'll add your name to the waiting list. Would you be able to drive from Darwin to Perth?"
"Um.... (a long pause) I'm sorry, I don't understand, I'm in Perth and I'm trying to get to Darwin."
--"It's a very simple question. Would you be able to drive from Darwin to Perth?"
"Um... I guess in that case, no I wouldn't be physically able to do that."
--"Do you have a physical disability that limits your driving abilities, sir?"
"No, but my physical presence in Perth at the moment limits my ability to drive anywhere from Darwin."
--"I see. If anything comes available we'll call you."
She won't call.
Trains and buses are expensive and uncomfortable. I'm still looking for last-minute flight deals, but it's looking like I've been grounded.
I could think of worse places in the world to be stuck than Perth, though. It's a laid-back city. Small. Perfect weather. Not a drop of rain in 5 weeks and usually in the 80s. Plenty of beaches for lazy afternoons.
Come to think of it, I've been spending a lot of lazy afternoons here. My hostel has a pool, which gives me a great excuse to do some reading. I spend Tuesdays at the movies, hopping around from theatre to theatre all day. Last week I saw Alice in Wonderland, Shutter Island, and Men Who Stare at Goats. The week before it was Invictus, Wolfman, Crazy Heart, The Road, Up in the Air (again) and The Hurt Locker (again).
I spent one day visiting Fremantle, a cozy suburb right on the beach where Perth residents love to spend a free day. It's easy to see why. Beaches, fresh-food markets, an open air mall, no tall buildings. It's a perfect little town.
Tomorrow I'll go to an Australian Rules Football game, and on Sunday I'll take a ferry over to Rottnest Island. Looking forward to both.
Nights I either go out for a few drinks or work at the Mustang Bar. I've had a great time there. It's one of those places where the work sucks, but the people you work with make it worthwhile.
I'm part of the glassie crew who are responsible for maintaining the bar and clean-up duties. The monotony of picking up bottles and cleaning up broken glass does take its toll on us though. So we started the Glassie Olympics. We compete in various events throughout the night, showcasing the skills necessary for a competent glassie. Sometimes those skills involve balancing on a keg on one leg while holding two 5-Liter jugs of juice. Other times we see who can climb up the hole to the attic without a ladder, or who can tolerate a mouthful of ice the longest. It's all a very serious business. We glassies are a competitive sort.
All right, that's all for now. Sorry for the long post, but it's been a while. I got called out on that from a couple different people, so thank you, you got me motivated again. I'm planning on posting a top 5 list for things I miss from home (things like "home" and "family" will be excluded on grounds that they are obvious choices).
Someone please give George Clooney a hug.
My shifts at work end this week, as does my stay in my hostel. I have a ticket for the Blues Festival in Byron Bay (roughly 4300km east of Perth) which starts April 1st. Before that I'd like to see Ayers Rock and Darwin. A trip to Alice Springs, Darwin, then Byron Bay spans the full length and width of Australia. April 1st gives me less than 3 weeks.
As of today I have no plans for escape.
I've been counting on acquiring a relocation car (a car that needs to be moved from one city to another, free of charge) but so far nothing has come available. I called in to add my name to the waiting list and the following is a rough transcript of my conversation with the woman I spoke with:
"Yes, hi, my name is Conor Sullivan, I'm currently in Perth and looking to go to Darwin.
--"And your phone number, Conor?"
(I give my number)
--"OK and when would you like to leave?"
"As soon as humanly possible."
--"OK we don't have anything available at the moment, but I'll add your name to the waiting list. Would you be able to drive from Darwin to Perth?"
"Um.... (a long pause) I'm sorry, I don't understand, I'm in Perth and I'm trying to get to Darwin."
--"It's a very simple question. Would you be able to drive from Darwin to Perth?"
"Um... I guess in that case, no I wouldn't be physically able to do that."
--"Do you have a physical disability that limits your driving abilities, sir?"
"No, but my physical presence in Perth at the moment limits my ability to drive anywhere from Darwin."
--"I see. If anything comes available we'll call you."
She won't call.
Trains and buses are expensive and uncomfortable. I'm still looking for last-minute flight deals, but it's looking like I've been grounded.
I could think of worse places in the world to be stuck than Perth, though. It's a laid-back city. Small. Perfect weather. Not a drop of rain in 5 weeks and usually in the 80s. Plenty of beaches for lazy afternoons.
Come to think of it, I've been spending a lot of lazy afternoons here. My hostel has a pool, which gives me a great excuse to do some reading. I spend Tuesdays at the movies, hopping around from theatre to theatre all day. Last week I saw Alice in Wonderland, Shutter Island, and Men Who Stare at Goats. The week before it was Invictus, Wolfman, Crazy Heart, The Road, Up in the Air (again) and The Hurt Locker (again).
I spent one day visiting Fremantle, a cozy suburb right on the beach where Perth residents love to spend a free day. It's easy to see why. Beaches, fresh-food markets, an open air mall, no tall buildings. It's a perfect little town.
Tomorrow I'll go to an Australian Rules Football game, and on Sunday I'll take a ferry over to Rottnest Island. Looking forward to both.
Nights I either go out for a few drinks or work at the Mustang Bar. I've had a great time there. It's one of those places where the work sucks, but the people you work with make it worthwhile.
I'm part of the glassie crew who are responsible for maintaining the bar and clean-up duties. The monotony of picking up bottles and cleaning up broken glass does take its toll on us though. So we started the Glassie Olympics. We compete in various events throughout the night, showcasing the skills necessary for a competent glassie. Sometimes those skills involve balancing on a keg on one leg while holding two 5-Liter jugs of juice. Other times we see who can climb up the hole to the attic without a ladder, or who can tolerate a mouthful of ice the longest. It's all a very serious business. We glassies are a competitive sort.
All right, that's all for now. Sorry for the long post, but it's been a while. I got called out on that from a couple different people, so thank you, you got me motivated again. I'm planning on posting a top 5 list for things I miss from home (things like "home" and "family" will be excluded on grounds that they are obvious choices).
Someone please give George Clooney a hug.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)