Jul 2007

My 8 day outback experience began with a full on 4wd hardcore safari style jeep picking me up outside my hostel where I was greeted by the Bounty hunter himself...well that is if the bounty hunter was a 40 something brown hair mullet toting harley davidson obsessed motorcycle junkie name Sauce...yes sauce as in barbeque, tomato and the Ozzie favorite Sweet Chilli. Sauce had this way of talking to you where everything came out with some sort sort of sexual innuendo--like he could tell you about his mom dying of cancer yet make your skin crawl at the same time with his constant winking and bobbling of the head--very much the Quagmire of Family Guy...mixed with a bit of Matthew McCaunaughey's character in 'Dazed and Confused.' From the get go Sauce wouldn't tell us his real name and liked to live in the land of mystery--only revealing the occasional crazy past tour stories...that's when I started to realize it's not so much that he was secretive, but really the life of a tour guide is his tours...there is no distinction between his social life and his job--the hours are relentless with him averaging about 10 days off in 6 months. Anyways I'm too lazy to really describe my Oz experience of the last 11 days, but a quick recap as follows:
1. Driving in complete emptiness--we're talking red desert for hundreds of kilometers without seeing a single soul in sight, with no roads carving our path, being forced to forge our own way against the untamed forces of the great outback. Then out of nowhere happening upon random little pubs in small towns of about 8 imbred people that all want to be your best friend for the night.
2. Playing 8 ball into the wee hours of the night, kicking back a few Pure Blondes and paying our civic duty to the local pub by leaving behind IDs, clothing items or shoes to hang on the wall.
3. Sleeping in swags which are basically like freezer bags that you zip your sleeping bags in...but imagine it being about 28/26 degrees farenheight...sleeping in a sleeping bag that has a hole in the foot of it...how you might ask? it's called sleeping in your car for 2 months and kicking the pedals in your sleep...so yeah a sleeping bag with a hole in a swag...creates many a sleepless nights...but when I tell you the stars were unreal--there are just no words. Being able to sleep under the stars, falling asleep to shooting stars, full moons and the outline of mountains under the night sky...oh and the horrible snoring of numerous members of my group...well truely unforgettable.
4. The french couple who were utterly convinced that all Americans are in gangs...and so to be fair I played along--they even went so far to ask if I had to beat people up to gain entry into the gang...and that's when my story about fleeing the country for 6 months began to unravel...let's just say with the story I painted I'm basically the Godfather of the burbs.
5. Sleeping underground at Cooper Pedy and spending the afternoon noodling for opals in a big mine only to leave with many a shiny rock to add to my ever growing exciting NZ rock collection--no opals struck this time.
6. Climbing Ayres rock...okay so I know it's kind of sacreligious and I probably will have bad luck for the rest of my life...but it was a once and a lifetime opportunity and I don't regret my decision. Climbing up the face of the biggest monolith against a piercing blue sky, hot desert sun and a crazy Dutchie constantly trying to lead me off the side of the rock to my death below...and those damn ADD kids running up the rock nearly knocking me off time and time again.
7. Climbing Mt. Olsen in the Flinders Range an hour before the rest of my group...spending the early hours watching the sun come up 'meditating' on a rock...only to discover I had spent this reflective period sitting on a rock inscribed with the poetic words 'billy J and Kristin did it here'...no wonder it felt so spiritual...I'd even go as far as to describe it as biblical at that spot.
8. Being dared to jump into a 50meter deep pool of near glacial freezing water in all my clothes to swim to a a massive waterfall hidden behind the rocks--it was the kind of swim where your breath becomes shallow as you fight the plunging temperatures, but the feeling of standing against the rocks, underneath a powerful waterfall staring straight up into neverending rocky cliffs and blue skies...again memorable.
9. A crazy man named Talc Alf who lives literally in the middle of nowhere...with his nearest neighbor a good 250km away...spending an afternoon describing to us his theories on language and the universe...to be all honest I zoned out the minute he described the letter M as forming from women's breasts...because an M resembles a woman's chest...hence why 'm' is also the first letter of mother...yeah so he was a bit eccentric and looked like Kris Kringle meets the owner of Jurassic Park...the most exciting thing was the dingo that lurked on his property...oh and his insightful revelation that my name meant 'journey to a place to settle'...deep stuff no?
10. Roger...he is my favoritist old man to date...honestly I hate to admit it but he was like my little puppet...I said dance he said fox trot or waltz...I said make music and the man beat his hands across the bench...okay so yeah he was almost 70, but he was so quirky and honestly reminded me of the sunbaked woman from 'there's something about mary'...the man was on speed and could not read social situations at all...but alas he was wonderful.
11. Getting picked up by some random person in Alice Springs on their harley and spending the afternoon with the wind in my hair, the pedal to the metal and holding onto dear life as we navigated our way through the sunkissed baren landscape.
12. Crocodile Safari...between the crocodiles, buffalos, wild camels, kangaroos and wallabees...it felt straight out of Africa.
13. The regular questioning as to whether I in fact knew the legendary Elvis...being that I'm from Maryland...because of course Maryland sounds like Graceland...and by kevin bacon's six degrees of separation logic...well, Elvis and I are practically married.
14. Catching numerous breathtaking sunrises and sunsets
15. Regularly meeting the type of people that refuel your energy, charge it and bring out the best in you--the type fo people that make any type of chemical high pale in comparison the natural highs you experience in their presence
...these are just a few...emphasis on few memories of the last 11 days...10 more days and I'm home...so hard to believe...at 4am...so like 6 hours I fly to Cairnes...where I will make my way to the great barrier reef, do some diving, then head to the rainforests of cape tribulation, might do a quick sailing trip in the WhiteSundays then head to the blue mountains and finish off in Sydney before heading home....miss and love you all and glad to hear your home safe and sound mom and dad!

After a two day tour of Kangaroo Island I had gotten to the point where seeing a kangaroo was just as exciting as finding a starbucks in a busy town centre--jaded... maybe just a bit--the same goes for seals. My tour guide was a really friendly 40 something year old, sun bleached she-man (difficult to tell at times...whether girl/guy) beer gut sporting Kangaroo Island native. All I can really say is Alcoholics Anonymous--her first words as she greeted us were I'm still hungover and I work in a vineyard when I'm not giving tours. I think I learned more about local brewing practices and which pubs on the sparsely populated island had the cheapest drinks then I did about well, the bush and the mammals. But alas I had a good time and got on really well with her and the others--finding once again that humor is the best breaker of tension--and that people can be way too serious at times--so again as long as your willing to be a little fiesty, poke some fun at yourself and be in the moment--the others will follow--just like 'field of dreams.'

There are no words to recount my first tour--except that it left a lasting impression on me--and for well, frankly anyone who comes into contact with my guide Bill. Bill, such a respectable normal name...who would have thought...wait who are we kidding the first thing I think of when I hear the name Bill is sex fiend--in this case again another Bill follows in the footsteps of our past president. I was greeted by an overly enthusiastic 65+ Mr. Magoo lookalike--claiming to be my tour guide for the day. Seeing as this was my first real tour I expected everyone to high five me as I made my way down the aisle of the bus, cheering me on and brimming with excitement over the amazing scenery we would see and the lifelong friendships that would form--okay so maybe I watch a bit too much Disney Channel because my bus was about 12 people 9 of which didn't speak a lick of English and the other 3 were so hungover that unless I was a pint of Tui I wasn't going to be making any real impression on them during those presunrise hours. So, alas I was forced to take the front seat of the bus...the one smack down right next to Bill.
The tour was two days and left from Melbourne, spent a night in the Grampians (a mountain range) and then the next day ended in Adelaide. The first day we made our way along the Great Ocean Road--which supposedly took 15 years of long days and shitty weather to construct. The road wraps around the coast offering up jaw dropping views of the coastline, endless blue waters and dazzling sandy beaches. Right off the bat I was impressed by the shear vastness of this country in comparison to New Zealand--it really feels like the supersized version--even the sky seems endless--peering up at the clouds you feel like you are looking straight into the heavens. The weather could not have been any more spot on--with a gentle breeze, sun filled skies and the bluest of the blues contrasting with the fiery orangeness of the rocks. We made our way along the scenic drive stopping at the 12 apostles ( a rock formation,) the london bridge ( another rock formation that at one time looked like the famous bridge--but due to one night of adulterous passion and a rock slide the bridge no longer exists in it's original format) we did a bush walk in the rainforest where we took a moment to listen to the silence of the land--the kind of silence that can seem almost frightening because you know if there wasn't that slight trickle of rainwater dancing on the forest canopy there would be absolutely no noise penetrating the forest.
Throughout the course of the ride our leader tried to make joke after joke, but they all seemed to fall on deaf ears--so after awhile like any normal person he began to tell me about all the crazy sexual things that have happened on his tour bus...let me just say I'm a very open person and thought I had heard just about everything--but dear lord where is the holy water when you need it--my ears are still ringing with the tales of sex on that bus. If that wasn't enough he painted a stereotypical image of the aboriginals as lazy, obes alcoholics that are constantly seeking free handouts from the government--apparently in the northern territory in Australia alcoholism is such a problem for the natives that they are banned from buying alcohol up there. And the final icing on the cake was his kind offer from the heart...heart my ass to try and help me sort out any problems I may have or may have had in the past--in other words he offered me free counseling because he said he had turned many peoples lives around--bringing a heroin addict from the streets to a job...a job at McDonalds mind you. Okay I am very much skimming the surface here...but let's just say skeevy old man.
The next day was spent watching kangaroos frolick along a golf course, trying to spot the drug induced sleeping koala in the eucalyptus trees, going on a night hike guided by torch to spot kangaroos, baby joeys and wallabees during their waking hours.
The drunk people did talk finally and the non-english speaking well...we made out just fine with hand signals--all and all the people were really friendly and I learned an even greater appreciation for my mom and the work it takes to make sure people are having a good time and keeping people entertained even if it means taking the piss out of yourself once...or maybe a couple million times.
...okay two more tours to recount...this might take awhile...stay tuned. currently I'm in Katherine and will be doing a boat cruise and hike in the gorges tomorrow then taking a greyhound that night to Darwin where I will leave the following morning for a 3 day tour of kakadu and litchfield national park.

Walking the streets of Melbourne can sometimes feel like you're walking along the pages of Vogue...okay Vogue 6 months ago. Fashion here in the southern hemisphere is 6 months behind in terms of America and the rest of the world...wait who are we kidding America is the world...or at least that's what my 5 months traveling would have me to believe. So, behind the oversized sunglasses, leggings, umpire waisted shirts and flashy handbags lies a nation of girls subsisting on coffee, water and krispy creme doughnuts. Ozzie girls give new meaning to the American size zero...after spending months in New Zealand surrounded by healthy, active men and women it was a real culture shock coming here. Not only are the girls the size of my pinky finger, but the guys as well have seemed to bought into the whole coked out -heroine -kate moss- waif inspired look--frankly it's rather disturbing. Although America by no means is a role model when it comes to healthy body image, the thin or rather undernourished, underweight prepubescent boy bodies that crowd the city streets have become recognized as normal here...while girls that might be the American equivalent of a size 6 tug at their shirts and conceal their bodies in less than flattering sweaters to hide their apparent 'obesity.'
Another thing I can't help but notice is that Australia should be called 'land of the preggers' instead of the 'land down under' I mean seriously never in my life have I come across more beaming, fresh faced belly button poking out M.I.T's (moms in training.) But then again this shouldn't surprise me considering the shear amount of coupledom that seems to be bursting at every corner. It's funny how in tune you become to your surroundings and everything around you when you have spent the last 5 months or so traveling by yourself. I can honestly say that I have surpassed the level of 'people watcher' and moved to the elitist level of 'people observer' not to be confused with stalker thank you very much. The ordinary images of everyday life seem to stick in my mind in a way they never used to before--the sweet innocent little 6 year old asian girl dressed in hot pink from head to toe and high heels a few sizes too big being swept into the arms of a doting father who for that moment seems immune to the nagging reminders of a busy lunch hour restaurant business--for that moment it's just him and his daughter--these are the things, the banalities of life that in the past I would easily overlook, but now pass through my head, linger and bring a smile to my face.
It's hard to believe that in a month's time I will be back home in Annapolis. I mean how do you make the shift from 6 months of complete freedom, no real responsibilities and a sense of independence so few my age are ever really granted to school, deadlines, responsibilities and picking up snicker's poop in the backyard? Okay who are we kidding I never really picked up his poop, but rather strategically placed leaves in all the right places--and yes my parents were very appreciative of this discovery a few weeks in after I left. Although I'm preparing myself for what might be a rough transition there are some tools that I'm coming back with that I think will help me navigate life a bit easier.
1. An actual craving to be intellectually stimulated--crazy I know. Eventhough I have read more in these past 5 months then I have in my entire life (that is if you subtract all the US, Cosmo and People magazines) I have really craved using my brain. It's funny I don't think I would ever thought that my time abroad would cause this kind of response--but it has--and I'm actually excited to learn for the first time in well...ever. Although I'm coming back to a senior year where I will somehow tackle my whole major in one year...what once seemed daunting now seems kind of exciting--that is if I ever really find out what Development Sociology is...and keep your fingers crossed I actually like it.
2. A mastery of 'shooting the shit.' Traveling perfects your ability to talk with just about anyone on just about any topic regardless of language barrier. I mean there have been many a nights where I spent a good couple hours 'talking' to Japanese tourists through overt hand gestures and lots of pointing at maps and of course plenty of smiles. I have talked politics which I know just as much about as I do quantum mechanics...that has something to do with that 80s show 'quantum leap' no? I have talked about farming, the environment, life's deeper meaning like if you were stranded on a deserted island and could only bring one member of the 'full house' cast who would it be and why? like you even have to ask...the olsen twins...because well, the two of them put together just about equal one person...so it's like a 2 for 1 freebie!
3. Independence. So, I admit it I used to be one of those people who the idea of sitting alone in a restaurant or going to the movies by myself seemed to scream out social suicide. These last couple of months I have gradually made the transition from table for two cluttered in books, magazines, journals (basically anything and everything to make me look busy and occupied to the outside world) but seated one...to me, a table, a nice piping hot cup of joe and the ease and comfort of not giving a shit about what others might think as I linger, take in my surrounding and stalk...err I mean people watch.
So, these next couple of weeks will see me camping, coming face to face with koalas, kangaroos, the legendary ayres rock and hopefully and aboriginal or two. But before I forget another thing to take note of...the other day I was walking around some botanical garden and saw this mysterious creature peering straight at me while most of its body remained hidden by a thick branch. Now, growing up where squirrels and birds are common tree dwellers I was intrigued...who am I kidding I was pretty damn excited to discover what this mystery creature might be. I made my way closer to the tree, creeping along pretending I was in the wild safaris of africa stealthily keeping my camera out of view as I snapped picture after picture of this furry wide eyed 'taileypoe.' Excited about my discovery of some deformed koala or siamese twin wallabe I excitedly show the pictures to some hostelmates..waiting for the 'ohhs and ahhs' to ensue...okay so it took a while...in fact they looked at me with a look of bewilderment and then proceeded to ask why I took a picture of a possum considering I had just spent 5 months in New Zealand...what was so special about New Zealand's finest roadkill? Lesson learned....wait to share amazing life altering animal discoveries until I get back home with people who might just might accept my blurry pictures as proof that the Lochness monster does in fact exist!