Laidback...With My Mind on My Money and My Money on My Mind

Last time I was just leaving Noosa, headed for the beautiful Byron Bay. Hippies galore, Byron is one of the most laidback, chill towns I have ever visited. Although it has recently become quite touristy, it still has that vibe of long, flowy skirts, earth-friendly movements, peace, love, happiness, really rockin' acoustic music (Ben Harper has a second home here), herb shops and the ultimate surfer's paradise. Not impressed with my hostel, I called about moving to another, one that had been written up as a quiet guesthouse, much like the one I stayed at in Noosa. To my surprise, the woman on the other end informed me that although she had recently shut down the hostel due to the party mentality of so many backpackers, I sounded like a nice girl and it was my lucky day because she had a studio apartment available to rent. I was so excited, yet disappointed to hear that she wanted $350 per week. A lone traveller, I sadly declined the offer, telling Veronica that I could not afford anything over $150. To which she replied, "Done. I'll pick you up tomorrow at 11." The next day, in her red BMW convertible, Veronica pulled up to my hostel in a flash, driving me only two blocks further to a gorgeous stand-alone house that housed my beautiful studio apartment, only a few blocks from the beach. I cannot even describe to you what staying in a studio apartment is like after spending two months living in the bunk bed of a dormitory room with ten other people. This new "palace" as I called it was complete with a sprawling living area, a beautiful kitchen, my very own bathroom and even my own beautiful balcony that spanned the entire front of the house. I marvelled at my luck, thinking backpackers would kill to stay in a place like this at such an amazing price. I had hit the jackpot!

The next couple of days were spent exploring the gorgeous area with its purple jacarandas in full bloom, hiking up to the famous lighthouse, running through the national parks that joined one beautiful beach to the next, looking out to sea as I sipped wine at the famous Beach Hotel, and spending many evenings listening to some of the best live music I have ever heard.

Recommended by friends, I took a tour out to Nimbin, a hippie village that was founded as a result of the Aquarius Festival of 1973. Comparable only to Woodstock, the Aquarius Festival was held by university students who wanted to promote the idea of free love. The thousands who flocked to the area were enticed by its fertile lands and cheap real estate, deciding to establish roots and create their own little village of sorts. Present-day Nimbin is hard to describe--on one hand, it is a small yet progressive farm town, complete with its own power company that has been rewarded for its innovations in things such as push-pedal generators and solar-powered grills. On the other, it is a laidback hippie haven, with what it claims as the world's official Hemp Embassy. Only here can you find endless petitions for the legalization of marijuana, including posters with Barack Obama's personal endorsements, a psychedelic and colorful museum of the town and its history with easy-going townies smoking out of their giant bongs in back, and ladies in colorful frocks chasing after tourists trying to sell them magical cookies. What better way to describe it than the small town equivalent of Amsterdam?

After the tour of Nimbin, we drove back amongst beautifully green, lush rolling hills and endless fields of macadamia trees. Did you know that macadamia nuts are native to this region of Australia? Me neither. Nor did I think I really even liked macadamias...but damn, do they ever know how to use them to make some delicious pastries!

Back in Byron, I met up with some friends from up the coast. After deciding to leave for Sydney that Sunday, I suggested to Veronica that they move into the studio and she happily agreed. As a thank you, Tom and Kate, my friends from England, decided to hire a surf board and teach me how to surf! So we headed out onto one of the country's most famous little inlets to surf, Watego's Bay. Here, Tom instructed me how to paddle, how to move in the water and finally how to stand. Rather than practice on the beach like most amateurs, Tom insisted we get right in the water, where he waited for a good wave, holding the board steady for me, screaming, "Ok, NOW!! Paddle! Paddle!! Paddle!!!!" The first few times were, as they would say, a bloody failure. But about round four, I felt the water underneath me, steadied myself, and STOOD UP!!!!!!! This is unheard of for first-timers so I left the water, exhausted yet beaming with pride. A nice cold beer afterwards (my personal favorite here--the pale ale "Little Creatures") and I was ready to say goodbye to Byron Bay...not because I wanted to leave, but because the piggy bank was, and IS, very very empty.

So off to Sydney I went, not by bus...yet in the station wagon of a girl I had found online offering rides (don't worry, this is common here!). Was I perhaps slightly worried when she picked me up from Byron in her white beater, painted ever so wonderfully with Pink Floyd's famous logo for the 'Dark Side of the Moon' album on both sides? No, not nearly as much as I was terrified by the hundreds of dolls she had in the dash, lined up along the side of the car, or later by the one that was chuckling underneath all of her luggage as I sat alone in the backseat, wondering where on earth that Chucky noise was coming from and would I make it out alive.

But I survived. And here I am again in Sydney...desperate for a job and some money to replenish the funds that I so quickly depleted on my amazing journey. Perhaps I will continue to save through Christmas, in hopes of planning yet another trip...I'm thinking New Zealand!

Whitsundays and Fraser Island

Long overdue. What else can you expect from someone having the time of her life?

Last time I was just leaving Townsville, headed for Airlie Beach, where I ended up spending a good four days hanging about, reading a book in the hammock of my hostel, watching outdoor movies at sunset on a tarp whose backdrop was the entire Airlie Beach Bay, playing trivia for free bottles of champagne, and walking beautiful national forest treks overlooking the Whitsunday Islands.

What are the Whitsundays? Only the most beautiful 74 islands on this planet. After my days in Airlie, I boarded a sailing vessel, "Summertime", for a three-day, two-night cruise around these islands. When we visited what is officially named the second best beach in the world, Whitehaven, I knew that this trip would truly be something special. The sand is as white as you could ever possibly imagine, containing 97% silica, it is the perfect exfoliant, leaving your skin feeling silky smooth. My shipmates and I wandered the less frequented section of the beach alone, our own special spot in paradise. We put on wetsuits (to protect us from the deadly box stinger jellyfish) and spent hours splashing around in simply the most beautifully blue water I have ever seen.

The rest of the trip aboard Summertime was just as magical. We snorkelled in some of the most untouched coral in the Great Barrier Reef, swimming alongside sea turtles, spotting white-tip sharks, and finding Nemo. Our ship is the only vessel in the area that has inflatable kayaks, which we took out one morning as the sun rose to spot stingrays and more turtles floating alongside our boat. Back aboard the vessel, we would hop into our jacuzzi at the front of the ship, warming up before being served our giant Aussie BBQ and heading off to our small cabins underneath the ship. It was nothing short of perfection.

After my trip to the Whitsundays, it was hard to imagine anything as unique or exciting. But only a day later, I was headed to Rainbow Beach, where I met the three strangers who would accompany me to Fraser Island on a self-drive, three-day safari. The next morning, camping gear packed into the back of the giant Land Rover they give us to take to the island, the four of us headed off to the ferry for our adventure. Darren, the 6'7" dingo-chasing, full-of-life Brit, Chris, the 19 year old, always-smiling German, and Sarah, my dear friend from Scotland. An interesting crew to say the least, we arrived on the island, hopping into the 4WD and driving on the sand to our first destination. The island is the world's largest sand island and the beaches have been converted into highways. Nothing quite like driving along the beach in an SUV with speed limit signs stuck into the sand dunes, other cars driving along the shore, waves crashing.

We spent three days on Fraser, exploring the beaches and inland lakes with our SUV. We would drive on back roads, figuring out how to navigate in the dry powder, getting stuck, driving over giant boulders, into streams...quite the adventure. Then we would get out of the car, go on a nice walk and find ourselves smack dab in front of the most beautiful, pristine, secluded lake. The waterways are so clean that we drank the water straight from them. It was something out of a fairytale, as the three of us found ourselves alone on Basin Lake, nothing but nature surrounding us.

Our nights consisted of setting up camp...and since I was the only one with any real camping experience, I became somewhat of the camp mother, showing them how to set up the tents, cooking the meals, teaching everyone how to make S'mores. (Can you even imagine living in a country that doesn't know what a S'more is? The omission of this tradition should be an international crime!) We sat around the fire, drinking goon (cheap boxed wine), telling stories, meeting aborigines who live on the island, and chasing the world's only purebred dingoes (wild dogs).

After the sailing and Fraser, I was BEAT. So I decided to come to a little resort town on the Sunshine Coast. In Noosa the past few days, I have been relaxing, taking long walks in the national forests, visiting the world-famous Eumundi markets, and staying in a quaint guesthouse with only eight other lovely people from around the world.

Life continues to surprise me. I think I may have had my long-awaited epiphany, but perhaps I'll keep you all in suspense for now. All I know is that around each corner is another wonder and I am so so so lucky to have the chance to see what I have seen.

Love you all :)

Good 'Ol Maggie

Prior to leaving Atherton, I spent an amazing day with some friends from the Lodge, driving over to the jungle-top town of Kuranda, where we jumped off twenty-foot ledges into deep gorges atop a giant, cascading waterfall. As the tourists looked on from their “viewing platform”, we stood atop the waterfall, swimming and enjoying our own private viewing of the magical wonder. After this glorious day, it was even harder to say goodbye to Atherton, but it was time to move on, so I packed up and grabbed a bus to Townsville.

In Townsville, I wandered along The 5-kilometer Strand, ambling along the coastline path, lined with tropical palms, giant fountains, and several rock pools and lagoons. I found it interesting to see that they had several boxes along the way full of vinegar for the box-stinger jellyfish, a real threat here to swimmers in the summer months. That evening I grabbed some fish and chips at the local pub, Molly Malones, and met what would soon become my family for the next couple of days. Carl and Allie, from England, were traveling with the Aussie Drew, and we instantly hit it off, as I eavesdropped on their conversation about movies and “that guy who dances around naked in the bedroom”, jumping in and screaming, “It's Tom Cruise and the movie is 'Cocktail'”. Duh. What followed was a few more drinks, a lot of laughs, and an agreement to pick me up the next morning to go to the famous Magnetic Island just off the coast of Townsville.

Indeed, at 9:30 the next morning, we were off to the ferry station, where Drew and Carl purchased Canadian Club and Coca-Colas to drink at 10 in the morning. I thought to myself, “oh boy, this is going to be a long weekend.” Upon arriving on “Maggie”, we went our own separate ways to our previously-booked hostels, only to reunite later when the three amigos showed up with motor bikes for us to ride around the island. I hopped on the back of one, where we drove to Horseshoe Bay for a quick lunch and then on to Alma Bay for a swim in the warmest ocean water I have ever felt. We spent the entire day driving around the magical island, swimming, stopping at lookouts that were beyond breathtaking and visiting rock points with hundreds of rock wallabies (small, kangaroo-like animals). That night we found ourselves at the local community center cheering on a teengage band and the best beat-boxer in Australia. As the locals wondered, “who are these tourists crashing our party?”, we danced and cheered to this peculiar party we had found.

Back on the dirt bikes in the morning, the boys dropped Allie and I off at a hiking trail, where we ascended the hill to the forts that Australia built on the island during World War II. The forts were not only impressive; the views from atop were literally amazing. On our way down, we kept our eyes pealed for a koala, as we had been told they often frequent this area. Sure enough, there was one, in the tree, only five feet from where we were standing. We watched for nearly a half hour, standing mere feet from the little guy as he sat passively watching us, trying to keep his eyes open. I had to pinch myself; I was watching a koala in the wild!

The great day came to an end with the Townsville Air Show, which we could view from the island's pier at Picnic Bay. Ironically enough, we had planned a picnic for the night, so we set up a wide array of cheeses, meats, wines, pates, and fruits, and watched the US fighter planes soar above us, twisting and turning, followed by a 45-minute fireworks display over the ocean. Wow.

It was so hard to say goodbye to Maggie and to my little family the next day, but it was time to move on...a quick visit to the local markets before hopping on a bus to Airlie Beach, where I am now. Tomorrow I have a 3-day, 2-night sailing cruise in the famous Whitsunday Islands, including Whitehaven Beach, named the second best beach in the entire world. I am thrilled and loving this adventure, but of course miss you all.

Potatoes, Pubs, and Possum

I am in Atherton, living at a traveller's lodge with 50 other people from all around the world! All are here to work the farms, as Australia grants a second-year visa to backpackers who work 88 days on a local farm. I am not sure that is what I am after, but I wanted the experience of working on a farm nonetheless...so here I am.

Atherton is a small country town in the Tablelands, beautiful lands with small mountains, rolling hills and miles and miles of farm land. After a long day's work on the potato fields, nothing is more satisfying than watching the sun set over the mountaintops as the tractor pulls us back to the shed.

I have been working on a potato harvester. Seriously. It is the dirtiest, most filthy job I have ever had; I come home COVERED in orange soot and find dirt in the strangest of places even after I've had a good shower. Atop the harvester, we are six girls, pulling the bad/rotten potatoes off the conveyor belt. It is pretty mindless work and makes for a boring, eight hour day, but it is satisfying. I mean, I never thought I'd be doing this! On my harvester are two French girls, a German, a girl from Israel, and one from Ireland. It makes for interesting breaks, hanging out and eating our sandwiches, talking about cultural differences and just life in general. It is truly the most amazing part of travel--I can never get enough of other people's stories.

In addition to potatoes, I have been working the local country pub. This is WAY different than my pub experience in Sydney--much more laidback and, well, local. The bar has been in the owner's family for generations, dating back to the 1800s, where boxing matches were held in its common area. It was used as a base for the Australian soldiers in World War II and is just oozing in personality and history. We have a great time on Friday nights, dancing to the loud music and hanging out with the local rugby players.

I have made some good friends here and will be sad to go, but I feel compelled to keep moving and see something new. I have met people who have been here for six months because they got "stuck" in what feels comfortable here; I don't want that to happen so I'll probably leave next week.

Until then, I will enjoy this unique experience, cooking Mexican feasts in the backyard for 30 house mates, learning Korean, and chasing opossum out of my room in the middle of the night.

Brush with Death Episode Two

After the bike/snake episode, you would think I'd already had my dose of danger in Australia. But brush with death episode two came on a tour that I took into the Atherton Tabletops. Absolutely stunning lands, we visited breathtaking waterfalls, swam in crater lakes and rivers home to amethystines (Australia's version of the anaconda), learned about the rainforest, mountain biked, canoed, sang, tasted Vegemite for the first time (awful!!!) and slept in a quaint lodge in the middle of nowhere. It was fabulous.

On the trip, I must brag, I spotted TWO platypus in their natural habitat! This is such a feat because the platypus is a very shy creature and 92% of Australians have never even seen one! It was so much smaller than I thought, but so darling and cute!

The brush with death came on our canoe trip to Lake Tinaroo, where our guide Matt popped onto shore to help pull up our canoes and an inland taipan came surging at him, mouth open, ready to attack, as his eggs were mere feet away. In twenty years as a guide of some sort in the rainforest, Matt has only seen a taipan twice in his life and they are noted as the single most venomous snake in the world. It is very rare to see one and you know it's a bad thing when even your guide, who loves snakes, is visibly shaken by the episode. After hitting it away with a canoe paddle, Matt screamed for us to paddle away, as the snake slithered into the water, where Matt was sure it would enter our boats to attack, as it was clearly threatened and feeling very territorial. Screaming at the top of our lungs and panicked, we paddled away. After five minutes, Matt then had the audacity to ask us to get back onto that very shore and take a nature walk, assuring us that the snake had "left the area". After MUCH encouragement on his part, we reluctantly agreed, but I spent the entire walk on the lookout for any slithering creatures in the tall grass.

As if that weren't enough excitement, yesterday I dove in the Great Barrier Reef! My second dive ever (don't worry girls, no puke this time!), it was AMAZING, MAGNIFICENT, MAJESTIC, GLORIOUS, WONDERFUL. Words cannot describe the wonder that is the reef and the abundance of life that I saw yesterday, including stingrays, reef sharks, sea turtles, barracudas, clown fish (Nemo), and fish of every shape and color. It truly is a wonder of the world.

Today I head to the Atherton, where I have tentative arrangements to start working on a potato farm!!! As long as there are no inland taipans, I'll be ok!

**I have pictures but will download them at another time!

Brush With Death Episode One

So...for those of you who don't know (which is a lot because, I know, I've been really bad about this blogging thing), I have decided to start travelling (it severely annoys me that this word can be spelled with one "l" OR two). Not that bartending wasn't great or I didn't enjoy Sydney, I just woke up one day and realized, "I came here to travel. What the hell am I doing?" I was restless and itching to see this beautiful country, so I booked a flight to Cairns.

Now, where is Cairns?, you ask...almost to the very most northern point on the Eastern coast of Australia. This way as it gets hotter (remember, we just finished winter; September 1st was their first day of spring!), I can just continue to travel down the coast towards cooler weather (not that Sydney is cool, per se, in the summer, but a heck of a lot better than the tropics!) So I am in Cairns; known for its proximity to the Great Barrier Reef, it is a very touristy town (it reminds me a lot of the Keys, except I hope not to puke on a dive trip here). There are a TON of adventure tours right up my alley...it's been hard deciding what I want to do, amongst options that include white water rafting, diving, snorkelling, sailing, visiting the rainforest, taking the world's largest skyrail, skydiving, etc. I am still deciding, but will write all about whatever adventures I choose!

So I knew this trip was blessed from the get-go when I packed up my bags, left my house in Lane Cove, walking up the giant hill with my pack to get the bus downtown to the airport, when another bus pulls up along side of me, asking me if he can give me a lift to the bus stop. (Bus drivers in Sydney are NOT known for their warmth, so I was shocked!) I didn't think I looked like I was struggling too much, but how completely generous of him to offer, so I hopped on and was up at the stop in no time; a perfect start to a great trip!

My flight was scheduled at 3:20 and got in to Cairns at 6:20. This ought to give everyone a more accurate pic of exactly how big Australia is; I always thought of it as this little island, but it is around the same size as the States--so flying from Sydney to Cairns is like flying Chicago to Florida. Weird. Anyhow, the hostel van, painted in hippie, psychedelic images, pulled up to the airport to pick me up. When I arrived at the Dreamtime Traveller's Hostel, I knew I had made a good choice...I've stayed in a lot of hostels in my day, but this ranks pretty high up there. Immediately, I was told to set my bag down and join in the Aussie BBQ that was going on; we were served kangaroo and crocodile and several salads. I befriended some Germans (there are a lot here!) and they loved practicing English with me. Then began the fire show...yes, the fire show. At the hostel. Wow. Three complete and total hippies got out their fire rings and started dancing around to crazy music, which of course included Pink. Have I mentioned that all of Australia is OBSESSED with Pink...no clue why. Anyhow, they danced for a good 45 minutes. It was totally casual, with our lawn chairs and benches forming a ring around them, only feet from their balls of fire. After the show, there were lessons if you wanted to learn (for free!) and also you could try playing the digiridoo (sp?), the aboriginal music stick.

This morning, I went for a long run along the Esplanade, admiring the tropic mountains, looming in the background, the mist of the morning settling in around their valleys, the Pacific to my side. Then the manager Chris helped me to make some decisions about possible tour options and suggested I rent a bike (I told him I wanted adventure and exercise!) So off I went to the little bike shop, where David hooked me up with mountain gear. I had originally planned a short little jaunt to the Botanic Gardens and back, but somehow let David convince me to ride out into the mountains to see the Crystal Cascades. All he gave me was a hand-drawn map, a helmet, and a bike, saying I'd have no problem. Two hours later and I hadn't even started the climb, winding in and out of little tropical villages and interesting tropical neighborhoods in which I suddenly began to be aware of the color of my skin, seeing as I had not seen any whites for miles. Thankfully, I had a bike and FINALLY found the road to the Cascades...a 9 km jaunt out, and 9 km back...after what had already been at least 10. So I began the climb and it was beautiful, rolling hills and valleys becoming more and more tropical as I climbed into the jungle (legs burning from the morning run).

About halfway into the 9 km is when I had the FIRST BRUSH WITH DEATH of the trip. I was riding along, in the designated bike alley to the left (opposite side of the street remember!)when suddenly I realized there was a GIANT GREEN SNAKE two feet in front of the bike and I was going to go over it; thoughts raced in my mind how I would run over it, it would retaliate, biting me in the leg, I would be poisoned, alone, stranded in the jungle, left for dead...(yes, all this in a matter of seconds). So I swerved to avoid it, not paying attention to the camper van barreling along beside me. Honking and cussing out the windown, the van just narrowly missed me and I just barely missed the snake. So much for the Aussie mentality "they won't bother you if you don't bother them". Perhaps not, but they still may cause my death.

I finally reached the waterfalls and realized I had to walk another 2 km to even see them, a sign reading, "BEWARE: STINGING TREE. IF IN CONTACT, SEEK MEDICAL CARE IMMEDIATELY." In combo with the snake incident, I began to feel like I was certainly not in my own country anymore. Lots of people were swimming in the cascades, but I had not brought my suit, so I admired the falls and rested before my trip home.

Dying of thirst, I stopped to get a water and ask the easiest, most flat way home. What ensued was a flatter route indeed, but what must have been at least another 12-15 km ride. When I passed the airport, it was like a vaccuum of air sucking me in as the planes took off and I started to REALLY feel tired. Then I hit a pot hole and my chain came undone, so I pulled aside into a hardware store to fix it. Full of grease and near tears, a mechanic finally noticed and came over and helped me to fix it, smiling and encouraging. Helpful angel #2. At this rate, I may just find one a day!

So now I'm finally back, around 30 km later...amazing that all this has happened in two days time. I will stay in Cairns for a while and then move on to get seasonal work on the banana plantations for a while to make some extra cash (plus, who doesn't want to say they've worked on a banana farm!...ok, maybe a few of you...). Basically, I'm going where the wind blows me.

So until the next gust....

Blue Mountains and City2Surf

Every so often, you meet people with whom you immediately connect and are able to find an instant comfort and shared love of some common interest. Yesterday, I had such an experience. When I first told the faculty at Carmel High School in Mundelein about my departure to Australia, several staff members suggested that I contact a Carmelite brother in Melbourne who used to teach at the school. This brother, Sean, then suggested that I contact Denis, a brother here in Sydney. After our first meeting, Denis and I discovered we were both runners and avid hikers and so he invited me to come with him and his old friend Tom to the Blue Mountains for a hike. What ensued was one of the highlights of my stay here in Sydney.

We caught the train from Central to the mountains in the rain, fearing that our day would be ruined by the wet drizzle. About twenty minutes in, Tom joined Denis and I on the train. A 79-year-old man who has lived in Wentworthville, west of Sydney, his entire life, Tom is a walking encyclopedia/historian of everything Australia. As we ascended into the mountains, Tom pointed out historic sites and could connect some convict or event to each mountain town that we passed through. His anecdotes and love of Australia left me smiling. Both Tom and Denis joked that if the rain continued we would have to forego the hike and spend the day touring pubs (perhaps it was at this point that I thought they were my kindred spirits!). But the Gods were smiling on us for as we stepped off the train into Wentworth Falls atop the Blue Mountains, the rain suddenly let up and the sun began to creep out from behind the clouds. Stopping at the old post office converted into a lovely little café, the three of us sipped on coffee before our trek.

Crossing over into the Charles Darwin walk, we entered bushland with unique vegetation and colorful birds flitting around, happy to be out after a cool rain. Tom and Denis pointed out colorful flowers, including the national flower, the beautiful yellow whittle. We spied a vibrantly colored scarlet rosella bird, with a bright blue body and red chest, as we winded through what I can only compare to a Japanese Zen garden. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, the path opened up and we came to a lookout point of the entire mountain range, a vast expanse stretching before us. Named the Blue Mountains for the blue haze that comes off the eucalyptus trees in the summer, we took in the serene sight as we peered down at the Wentworth Falls, cascading down the mountainside. Then we headed off on a trail, scaling down cliffs and steep stairs, underneath the waterfalls and along the ridges of the mountains. Denis forged ahead with me in the middle and Tom in the rear. We paused every so often to discuss an interesting tree or catch another breathtaking glimpse of the mountains. After a good three hours, the route became more interesting, as around every twist and turn another waterfall seemed to await us, trickling down the mountainside as we winded in and out of its rocky pools. At the very end, we began our climb up from the gorge, ascending hundreds and hundreds of steep stairs. We stopped every couple minutes to catch our breaths, but I remain amazed that a 79-year-old man could not only complete a 5-hour hike amongst steep cliffs and gorges, but that he could climb steps out of it faster than most of my fit 28-year-old friends. What a trooper! Denis and Tom mean serious business! At the top (finally!) we stopped to eat some sandwiches that Tom’s wife, Pat, had packed for us…a complete and total stranger, she had made wonderful ham and veggie sandwiches out of pure love…another testament to the Aussies seemingly open-armed, welcoming nature. We walked back to the train along a storybook lane lined with trees and little mountain cottages, complete with fairytale chimneys and wrought-iron gates. Taking the train back down, I was exhausted but Tom continued to amuse me with his commentaries on each town, so I had to stay awake to listen.

At Wentworthville, Tom went his separate way as Denis and I went up to the church, where Denis showed me around before we headed over to Tom and Pat’s for dinner. Again, Tom and Pat, who had never met me prior to yesterday, had graciously invited me into their home, Pat cooking an amazing veal osso bucco for us that we enjoyed as we enjoyed each other’s company. Denis, later, drove me all the way back to Lane Cove, and I marveled at how lucky I was to have made such a connection with such wonderfully kind and caring people. Denis not only drove me all the way home, but had earlier come in to Central just to meet me at the train station, making sure that I got on the right train out to their suburb. I am so grateful for this hospitality! What wonderful new friends!

Denis also bought me a copy of the City2Suf as an official souvenir of my race this past weekend. A nine-mile event with over 75,000 people, we made world record history for the largest timed running event in the world. It was amazing to round the last corner and come down the hill onto the famous Bondi Beach, complete with thousands more spectators and fans and surfers in the background. An obstacle course to get around all the walkers, I was pretty happy with my time of 78.04 for nine miles. Seeing as I actually ran probably more than nine miles, with all the weaving in and out of crowds, I figure I averaged just around 8-minute-miles, which for nine miles isn’t too shabby for a training run where I wasn’t really racing hard. So I was happy to see the results!

In all, it’s been a great couple of days. Here’s a few photos of my trip to the Blue Mountains!

What Makes Australia Australia?

Australians may speak English, but there sure are a lot of funny things about this country. People at work may make fun of my accent or the fact that I eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but then again, there’s always this…the stuff that makes Australia uniquely its own:

1.The casual “how are you?” that we so often use back home is actually referred to as “how you going?” Excuse me? How am I going? Well, first of all, where am I going? Second of all, how am I getting there? Could be by bus, ferry, train, car. You tell me.

2.In America, the average restaurant hopes that you dine IN their restaurant, with the mentality that once there, you’ll spend more money on drinks, etc. Here, to dine IN actually costs more, causing most Aussies to opt for the take-away method instead. (Note: always referred to as take-away never take out.) In an average diner-like establishment, a meal that you take away is approximately $2 cheaper than a meal that you eat in. The only possible motive that I can provide is that most establishments are BYO, where you can bring your own booze (wine, beer, whatever you choose). There is usually a corkage fee, but the restaurants must think that since they’re not making a profit on alcohol, why go through the hassle of having to serve you when they can just stuff it in a sack. This, however, does not explain the cafés likeminded mentality; how strange that it costs me fifty cents extra just to sit here and have a coffee? It’s not really any more trouble for you to serve me…in fact, it saves plastic and paper that you would use on my take-away container, hence more earth-friendly, which I thought was a bandwagon Aussies claim to support. And wouldn’t you think I’d be more likely to order a second coffee if I sat here and sipped for a while…???

3.Which brings me to point three. Coffee here is AMAZING, but there is no such thing as an endless cup or pot of coffee. Every coffee is handmade especially for you, with heated milk and a beautiful froth on top. Aussies love their coffee and a watered-down pot of Denny’s black just won’t cut it. In fact, there is one Starbucks downtown and most of the time I pass it, it’s completely empty. That coffee does not measure up to the fine Italian espressos that most Aussies prefer. I have, coincidentally, become a coffee snob. And there are a million different names—it’s not just “coffee”, it’s a flat white (coffee with heated milk, no froth), a cappuccino (froth and chocolate on top), a latte (served in a glass mug with no froth), etc. Why do I know the difference? Well because a) I’m becoming slightly addicted to my morning cup of joe (take-away style of course) and b) I actually have to make it at the Oaks! Yes, I have perfected the art of the finest coffee making thanks to a giant espresso machine and several hours of training. My only fear is returning to the States…will I have to invest in an espresso machine and year’s supply of good espresso beans in order to passify this now addictive need for a good flat white?

4.Okay, so what is WITH the clothes here?!?! Seriously…most of the girls dress SUPER cute and VERY fashionable. Especially if you’re down in the CBD, central business district; I don’t feel comfortable unless I’m in a fabulously cute outfit and boots. EVERYONE wears the following: oversized shirt, black leggings, flat boots. EVERYONE. And it’s cute and all, but seriously, it’s getting kind of carbon copy. But I digress…if you stray from the CBD and into the suburbs, you will be quite baffled by the wide array of wardrobe selections. Yes, it’s a big city, so I suppose you see it all...but seriously, FLANNEL SUITS??? Where on earth can you even buy a flannel suit? Not just plaid, but FLANNEL. Not even Paul Bunyan owned a flannel suit. And why is it that on a brisk 50 degree morning, most Aussies can be seen in FLIP FLOPS. Yes, I get that Havaianas are the “in” sandal, but aren’t you FREEZING? How is it that I’m from Chicago, where it blizzards in winter, and yet cannot even BEGIN to think about wearing a flip-flop on this brisk, chilly morning? And the kids…my only explanation for how Aussies can wear flip flops all year is that they start them young…these poor little toddlers on a cold, winters morning in Capri pants and a t-shirt. Aren’t they freezing? Do Aussies have thicker blood??? And finally, the winner of them all…the Asians favorite look, the go-to in their closet: the colored tights under jean shorts with peep-toe high-heeled sandals. WHY, oh WHY? And ladies…don’t even think about wearing anything but a skinny jean. Just don’t even try. Thank God I owned a couple pairs before I came.

5.Yes, to answer the question…they really do use the word “mate”. Some more than others, but it is not uncommon to hear “g’day mate” upon entering a shop or even meeting a friend for coffee. Another of my favorite expressions is “no worries”. It’s used all the time and has rapidly become one of my favorite things to say. And then there’s always their form of thank you—while “thank you” does exist, it is most often cut short at “ta”, an expression I have become quite fond of saying upon exiting a shop or even the bus (it is common to thank bus drivers prior to exiting the buses here!)

6.Asians. They’re EVERYWHERE. They are the US version of Mexicans. Not that I have anything against diversity or the race itself, but I have never, ever seen so many Asians in my life. I mean, geographically speaking, it makes sense. We live near Mexico, we have Mexicans. Australia is close to Asia, they have Asians. But I could never ever imagine the multitude. It is so vast that the white man seems to be a minority, especially in certain areas of the city. However, the large Asian population means one thing: GREAT FOOD. Sushi is amazing and the choices between Thai, Vietnamese, and Japanese are endless. The other day, I ate at my first sushi train restaurant. You sit down at a counter and a moving strip circles in front of you, complete with hundreds of different plates of sushi and choices. The plates are color coded, so you know how much each costs, and there is a description of what the plate entails. You wait until you see something you like, you grab it off the train, and you continue to do so until satisfied…this can be addictive…far better to limit yourself to an amount to spend or a number of plates to consume. The two boys next to me were up to almost thirty plates by the time I left; they kept leaning over and suggesting things to me…I figured after trying that many, they must surely have some idea of what they were talking about!

These are just some of the things I could think of off the top of my head; my promise that there are many more to come! Annoyed as I might get at them making fun of Americans, I have rather enjoyed getting to know the unique complexities of the culture that makes them so different! Looking forward to finding new ones today!

Moist Chocolate Cake and a Zoo Adventure

I know, I know…I haven’t written a whole lot lately. It’s just kind of been a normal lifestyle these past couple of weeks—starting work, figuring out the city, running, hanging out. On Monday, my mom’s friend Sandra arrived from the States, so we actually rented a car to pick her up from the airport (the taxi would have cost the same, so why not have a car and be able to cruise around for a little bit?) and on Sunday after my run we drove up along the coast to the Northern Beaches, getting out along the way to go on little hikes through Palm Beach and Avalon. The coast was BEAUTIFUL; completely unlike Florida—not touristy, calm…the only sights in view were a little lighthouse in the bluffs afar and two lone paddle boarders silently pushing their oars through the blue ocean water...granted, it IS winter here, even if it is 60 degrees…I understand the summer will be MUCH wilder! We drove past the town of Turramurra, where last year a teenage boy was bitten by a great white shark and his dad, a member of the beach lifesaving crew, immediately knew to put a tourniquet on his leg to stop the bleeding and save his son, who still continues to surf to this day. Although it was slightly rainy, the drive was spectacular, and we winded along cliff-side roads, observing the mansions atop bluffs of breathtaking views of the vast Pacific.

The rest of my week was spent working, where I am beginning to become comfortable with the Oaks bartending experience. Unlike my work in America, this establishment is known for its prestige and presentation, amongst one of the finest hotels in Sydney, it is absolutely necessary that I pour a beer in TWO pours, not one, creating the perfect head on each beer. Also important is the art of mastering how to constantly look busy on an eight hour shift even when there is nothing to do. I have therefore perfected the art of folding a towel over and over, reshifting glasses, wiping down the countertops until they glisten, polishing already sparkling wine glasses, and smiling until my teeth hurt. The owner, a cute little old man who was in Darwin last week on a fishing trip, returned this week to find a strange American girl behind the bar and we instantly hit it off, talking about travels and him always saying cute little things to me like, “that’s a good girl”. Not to mention that I have become quite a fan of the regular customers, who come into the Lounge Bar at 5 pm everyday and order their middies of cold beer (usually VB or Carlton Draught), yelling to me, “hey Chicago!” Apparently that is my new name with the locals. They comment often on my “funny accent” and everyone always asks first if I am Canadian as to not offend me…as if being American was the most repulsive thing on the planet. In fact, a nice old man at the bus stop today found it necessary to comment on the fact that he was glad we were not like the other Americans, straight from the “septic tank” of the world. Thanks, buddy. We appreciate that vote of confidence.

Which brings me to today’s adventures…my birthday and the Taronga Zoo. I have been to several world-famous zoos in my lifetime, including San Diego, Minneapolis, Audubon…but this zoo was AMAZING…not just for its wildlife, which was magnificently unique to this area of the world…highlights include kangaroos, pandas, koalas, wombats, kimono dragons, 11 of the 15 most deadly snakes on the planet, glorious birds of every color, platypus and echidnas…it also sits atop a cliff overlooking the entire harbor of Sydney, so as you sit and watch the best bird show on the planet, condors and eagles soaring above your head, you gaze out onto the harbor and across to downtown Sydney’s skyline and Harbour Bridge. It truly was the most idyllic view imaginable and the perfect way to spend a birthday, leisurely strolling amongst Australian wildlife whilst taking in the views of one of its spectacular cities.

For dinner, I wanted nothing more than to cook…call me crazy after a long and tiring day at the zoo, but lately I have become engrossed in cooking and baking, studying cookbooks and wanting nothing more than to perfect the art of savory and delicious healthy food plus the occasional perfectly moist chocolate cake (since I am running at least 30 miles a week, I can afford a few more calories...and if they come in the form of chocolate cake, seriously, how can I argue?!?!). So I decided on marinated salmon steaks, baked sweet potato fries dusted with a savory cinnamon blend, the true, authentic Spanish version of aioli sauce, prosciutto-wrapped asparagus, and a Better-Than-Patrick –Swayze chocolate cake (unfortunately, Heath bars don’t seem to exist in this country, so I had to improvise with a combo of crushed Twix and Crunch bars…but I figure, the slightly disappointing alteration was about right given Patrick Swayze’s current state of being…). Anyhow, I made it all myself (minus the grilling of the salmon) and it was delicious; I must say, the chocolate cake, after having absorbed the chocolate and butterscotch syrups, was about as moist as one might dream of…that, plus my first beer in about five weeks, and I was a happy girl.
I work tomorrow and Saturday and then Sunday I have a 12-miler before next week’s exciting City-To-Surf competition, the nine-mile race that goes from Sydney’s downtown district all the way to the famous Bondi Beach, with over 70,000 competitors! I am not nervous; by this point, nine miles seems like a walk in the park. For my birthday gift to myself, I officially signed up for the Melbourne Marathon. As long as everything goes as planned, barring any sickness or injury, I will compete October 11th in the marathon competition in Melbourne. Nervous, but excited…T – 71 days!

So…working and running and figuring out life. That’s the gist of it. Here’s some recent pics. Missing you all! Much Love ♥♥♥

Employed!

Today I got a job at the Oaks Hotel! The word "hotel" here does not always refer to a place to sleep, but rather often indicates a pub house or bar. In this case, it is a giant, beautiful establishment with four different bars, including a huge outdoor beer garden, complete with its namesake, an enormous oak tree, and several heaters for outdoor seating year round. While bartenders don't work for tips, I can't argue with the "weekend rate" of $27 per hour. Although it's all relative to the cost of living; today I looked at buying an extra pair of running shoes. The same shoes that cost me $95 in the States cost $275 here. UGH. Good thing I got a job after all! Here's the link:

http://www.oakshotel.com.au/

The House and Other News!

So here are a few pics...the one of the city is actually a view of Sydney from our OLD house. We moved on the 4th of July (ironically enough, as they don't celebrate here anyhow). While I miss the view terribly and the upbeat area of Cremorne/Mosman that we were living in, the new house is quite beautiful and has a secret tropical garden out back, where we have a blue-tooth skink who suns himself on the porch every day. We call him Willy and are easily amused watching him, even though he moves at the pace of a turtle. The colorful birds pictured are lorakeets; they are everywhere here and SO beautiful. Here, Mom and I were having coffee when they approached our table--Mom fed them bread and they joined us only inches away, taking food from our hands. Anyhow, we are settled in to the Lane Cove house now, although I'm not happy about the amount of hills in the nearby area. Running is virtually impossible; there are no gravel paths anywhere so I am pounding on concrete and the hills are unbearable. But I'm sticking it out and have already signed up for the famous City2Surf run, which will take place in only 27 days! This run is the largest timed running event in the world and there will be over 70,000 participants. Here's a quick video that really shows how big the event is:

Excited about that! My next venture is to find a job...I have recently completed both the RSA, Responsible Service of Alcohol and RCG, Responsible Conduct of Gambling. Both are required to get a decent job in a bar, but it's risky because you need to pay for them to get a job, but there aren't many jobs in this economy...I guess, in that way, it's a lot like a college degrees these days, huh?

Well, anyhow, I am missing everyone terribly and loving the emails. Keep them coming. Love you all!

Aussie TV Commercial

This TV commercial actually plays on prime-time Australian television. I guess it's no secret how Aussies view Americans. Check it out! Too funny!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8PCuh6eZeQ

Things You Always Wished You Knew about Alcohol...

Yesterday, I spent seven, yes seven, hours at a class deemed RSA, Responsible Service of Alcohol. Required, by law, of all bartenders and servers, the Australian government deems it necessary that I know the following extremely important pieces of information. In no particular order, these are the only things I remember from my class. $65 and a beautiful certificate to frame on my wall later:

1) There are several indicators that a person may be intoxicated. Some include swaying, slurring, the inability to walk, agressive behavior, and riding garbage bins down the street to get home.

2) If a patron is asked to leave a bar in New South Wales, they are banned from that establishment for 24 hours. They must stay exactly, no less, 50 meters away from the bar at all times. (Exactly how long is 50 meters, I don't know...but it's vital that I know this information.)

3) Of the following drink options, letter c is the only that is not considered a standard drink:
a) middie of full-strength beer
b) scooner of lite beer
c) middie of lite beer
**FYI: scooner is a pint, middie is a 12 oz. What is a standard drink and why do I need to know this? No clue....

4) The 5'4", 12-year-old boy posing as a 6 foot, 22-year old man on Jimmy Kimmel Live is Australia's best example of what not to do when carding minors.

5) Which brings me to my next point...every You Tube video shown in a class promoted by the Australian government to discourage irresponsible use of alcohol involves some sort of drunk American. Every. Single. One.

6) According to my instructor, men in Australia care about three things and three things only: rugby, beer, and sex.

7) 90% of all people who take the RSA class in Australia are, in fact, not able to speak English and only pass the test with the use of a hand-held English dictionary. (Although I must admit my own shortcomings in the use of the following):
sus = suspicious
bin = garbage can
slammer = consecutive row of shots
layback = beer bong or tilting your head back and chugging a beer
drink driving = drunk driving
pissed = extremely wasted; see also "piss"- get wasted or to drink alcohol; "the piss"- booze
in hospital = in the hospital (She was drink driving and her friend is now in hospital.)

8) Going to the bathroom on a police officer is not acceptable behavior while drinking according to the "possible offences" actually listed in the RSA manual. Thanks for writing that down for me. Cuz I wasn't quite sure about that one.


Could I go on? Perhaps. But these are just a few of the many highlights from my wonderful, fun-filled Saturday afternoon.

Thank you, Australia for letting me use all my notes on the written exam. I may not have been able to easily identify some of the possible signs of intoxication without them. I now feel prepared to take on all responsibilities surrounding drinking. After all, we wouldn't want Australians to wind up on any You Tube videos, now would we?

I'm HERE!

Although nothing rivals my 28-hour, man-having-seizures-in-the-seat-next-to-me, same-dirty-bathroom-for-75-people, chickens-clucking bus ride in Peru last summer, I must say that the trip to Australia was, indeed, quite long. The first flight was 14 hrs. and 35 mins. I slept probably a total of 2 hrs. as I was anxious, sad, nervous, excited, and really annoyed at the Korean lady next to me who:

a) thought it was a great idea to do her arm exercises, which required her to lift her smelly armpit in my face over and over, while we were being served our food. As I sat there, not very appetized by her body odor, I wondered if she bothered to note that I was not eating my veggie sandwich because of her repeated arm raises. I'm not sure which was worse...these exercises or the ones that required her to ask the stewardess for a toothpick so she could basically perform acupuncture on every finger and toe, yes toe, on her body while sitting next to me.

b) thought she lost a $50 bill on the floor, coincidentally rummaging through her wildly disorganized bags, throwing papers on the floor, standing up on her seat, making me and the other girl next to her stand up, crawling on the floor...only to later, after 1 hour of madly calculating every receipt from Walmart and Dominick's she had in her bag, realize that she didn't really lose it after all.

and c) thought it a good idea to personally insult me by saying Chicago was a very boring city, one in which she would never want to live because she had lived in exciting New York, only to tell me later that her and her husband were considering buying a place in Des Moines, Iowa because of the low prices...lady, have you ever been to IOWA?!?


Anyhow...the other girl (on the other side of the plane) and I got to talking; her name was Carol and she has been studying at University of North Carolina. Originally from Taiwan, she was going back to visit her family before moving to China to work in her field of international business. We got off the plane in Tokyo and headed to a cafe to talk while waiting--friend number one, made! If I ever make it to China/Taiwan, Carol, I'll be sure to look you up!

After saying goodbye to Carol, I found a place to sit--with another 3 hrs. in my 5 hr. 40 min. layover remaining. At this point, I discovered that I had not only been traveling for close to 18 hrs., but it was also 2 am at home. I became very tired and extremely nervous at the thought of another 10 hr. plane ride.

Luckily, upon entering the plane to Sydney, I realized it was not a full flight and I was able to move up to the bulkhead to have extra leg space and the whole 3-seat section to myself! This meant three seats to spread out, three blankets, three pillows...and no annoying Korean women performing acupuncture or stinky arm raises next to me! After being served a quick vegetarian meal of chickpeas, aspargus, and rice, I settled into a deep sleep and before I knew it I was in Sydney.

The customs line was quite long...but I got lucky and didn't have to have my bags inspected. I was greeted by Mom at the airport and we "queued up" for the taxi. AUSTRALIAN SLANG LESSON ONE: to "queue up" is to get in line...Aussies tend to queue up more than we do, lining up for taxi service at the airport and even to get on the bus in Sydney.

Mom and I were both happy to take the taxi, as the combined weight of my three bags (2 suitcases and carry-on) was about 162 lbs. (The night before I had to go to KMart at 11:30 pm to buy a scale which later resulted in me throwing things out of my bags onto the kitchen floor to put into storage...I have a LOT of stuff!)

Seeing as I got here at 7 am in the morning, I had to try to force myself to stay awake for the day to catch up on the normal sleeping pattern...so Mom and I dropped the luggage off, visited with Scott and Hewitt, had coffee at a cute cafe, and then went for a long walk. Sydney is GORGEOUS...like no other city I've ever seen. The entire city is on a harbor, but there are little inlets everywhere and the houses are all lined up on the inlets, overlooking the water. Everything is accessible by bus or by ferry--the ferries are part of the public transportation system and you can hop on and be across the harbor in 10 minutes! The houses in the area Mom lives, Cremorne, are AMAZING. The AVERAGE home price in the area is 2.4 million dollars...but we are moving July 4th to a new house, as their lease is up.

The house we are staying in now was built in 1916 and has cool arched doorways, gorgeous Oriental rugs, tiled cielings, and a jungle-like backyard. In fact, Sydney's landscapes and horticulture amaze me...there are palm trees and parts that resemble a rainforest. It is also in the 60s and the dead of winter! I can handle this!!!

This morning I went for a run through the city and then Mom and I headed into the business district downtown to set up a bank account and buy toiletries. I spent $70 on shampoo, conditioner, lotion, razors, and shaving cream. It is EXPENSIVE here. I needed barrettes, but refused to buy them, as it costs a whopping $8 for five barrettes. Tomorrow we will check out the local version of Walmart/Kmart to see if we can find better deals!

I'm exhausted, but content. And excited to be here. Thank you all for your supportive emails and messages. I will be in touch soon.

Sign up to be "a follower" of the blog and I think it will send you a message everytime I post!

LOVE YOU ALL! :)