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/