Jenny's Trek Down Under

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!

So, I am finally emphasis on FINALLY leaving Christchurch and will spend this next week finishing up touring the south island and a bit of the north island before heading to the great land of OZ. After spending the last two months constantly on the move it has been nice having a leisurely week in Christchurch and actually unpacking my bag instead of living out of my trunk. It has also given me the chance to really see Christchurch...although honestly you could probably see/do everything this city has to offer in 2 days...so stretching it out to a little over a week has meant me indulging in the creature comforts of an occasional movie, home cooked meals and memorable talks with hostelitizens...a special breed of hostel stayers that take up longterm residency in the hostel, make no real effort to get to know the constant stream of tourists that come in and out, or there are the select few that see this constant flux of tourists as an excuse to get them drunk and go out every night. These hostelitizens also are your best bet to finding the cheapest places in town for internet, booze and food.
Now the hostel I have been staying at in christchurch has been an odd mix of 12 year old boy cross country teams and gassy 70 year old bright yellow long underwear wearing tourists--so on many a night it was the hostelitizens I was forced to seek solace in--that or watch prepubescent boys play monopoly...hostelitizens it was.
Now the three main hostelitizens are two women that may or may not be in a relationship...40 something americans...who seemmed to be constantly trying to be the demi moore's of the hostel..hitting on both the boy toys of the staff and the male travellers--these women I avoided. Then there was a canadian 27 year old guy who made the rare appearence during day hours but usually was at his peak around 5 am as he made his way home from the bars night after night.
One night in particular we got to talking and as we drunkenly in his case and tipsily in mine sipped wine and discussed the state of the world, the environment and America we did our best to offer up solutions...but alas like every other traveller I have encountered--the problems in the world seem too daunting to solve in one night, but the more acceptance and understanding we could offer one another the closer to world peace we seemed to get. I think one thing I wasn't expecting about my travels was how often I would get asked my views about America and what Bush has been doing--I'm the first to admit that I'm not the most informed person when it comes to the government...yet I can tell you all about the Nicole Richie pregnancy scandel...but I find myself wanting to be more informed even going to cnn.com and reading up on things. I like to think that for the handful of tourists I've encoutered I've helped to dispel the American stereotype of Bush loving, gun toting ethnocentricism...but who knows for sure. Anyways back to Mike the Canadian--throughout the course of our discussion he told me a story about his time spent travelling in Asia and one memorable I'd say life altering experience involving a 6 year old girl, poverty like you and I can't even begin to imagine--and the vulnerability and innocense of a child and how it can really put things into perspective--seeing this 27 year old electrician definitely a guy's guy oozing confidence fight back tears as he held out a note that this little girl had given him..humbled me, gave me goosebumps and just further proved to me that even those who seem the most ego driven crumble in the face of pure unadulterated human connections and emotions.
The days following were stressful as I tried to plan my Australia trip, wandered the city with a couple german girls and imparted my 'wisdom' from my travels in the south island. It's funny it seems in recent days I have encountered so many tourists just beginning their travels and as mine near an end I can see just how far I've come both in kilometers and on a more personal level.
Yesterday I took the bus to kaikora which is most known for it's snow covered mountains, beautiful blue waters, seal colonies and of course whales. On the bus I met an 18 year old German girl beginning her travels during her gap year before college. Although her english wasn't all that great and at times I wondered if she suffered from turrets as in the best Borat of accents she alternated between uttering 'a fuck' and 'shiiieeett,' but alas she seemed like good company. We spent the day walking along what we thought was the peninsula walkway only to realize we went the wrong direction and instead of taking in beautiful coastlines and raging waters we were met with cows, cow shit and my pants ripping as I tried to clear a barbed wire fence. We hitched a ride back into town and made plans to meet the next day.
That night I made it back to my hostel where I met some really great people and was sad to learn they were leaving the next day--but for that night the conversation flowed easily and stories of past explorations were traded.
The next morning I met up with the german girl and in the cold rain we made our way finally to the peninsula walk--it was interesting between her broken english and my painfully slooowww dumbed down english conversation we were able to have a pretty interesting discussion about germans, jews and world war II. We got the most intimate view of seals I have had thus far--coming within feet of them--as they tried to conceal themselves under branches from the rain, some seemed to be in comatose stupors as they pointed their noses to the sky and did what I like to call a classic case of the 'classroom narcolespy'. You know when you are sitting in a lecture trying to keep your eyes open yet after less than an hour of sleep the night before and a lecturer so painfully boring you find your head constantly bobbing as you nod in and out of conscience--all the while trying to mask this behind a textbook that so conveniently is upside down.
So, that brings us to the present...tomorrow I leave for picton where I will spend the night then the following morning, my birthday, take the ferry over to the north island, spend a couple days bumming around wellington, the capital, and then on the 4th head to melbourne. My planned route for australia is melbourne to adelaide to darwin to caines down to sydney--so doing this in 6 weeks is definitely going to leave me exhausted but I feel will be more than worth it.
I love and miss you all--have a wonderful weekend--and see you all in 6 weeks! yikes so soon!

Seeing as how I'm nearly 22 and by myself half way across the world I think it is the perfect opportunity to reflect on some of the things I have learned in these past 5 months...so without further ado...life's lessons on the road with yours truely...Jenny:
1. It takes your whole world being turned upside down to really find out what matters to you. I came to New Zealand with the intent to save the environment what I was left with was a couple of months spent mowing someone's lawn and an abstract almost artistic arrangement of bruises painted across my body--from the hard labor you ask? nope, more like the countless times I tripped in my wellies or fell on my bum attempting to jump off a cliff into the swimming hole.
With my program cut three months short I found myself scrambling to try and figure out what to do next--as much as I like spontaneity, when you've spent the last 2 months working 8 hour days with total structure it can be hard to enter a world of unstructured freedom. So, I did what any self respecting 21 year old would do I called my parents. Over the next couple of months I tossed aside my dreams of being the Rachel Carson of my generation and instead did my part in contributing to global warming by keeping the petrol flowing. I learned a lot about myself during that road trip across the south island. I learned that early on being cast into the role of nature girl dictated a lot of my future decisions including majors, summer internships, etc. but what I didn't realize at the time was saving the environment wasn't what got me fired up, rather it was something I respected but could never truly imagine myself doing...the idea of being tied to some oil derrick in chains chanting for the the end of oil exploration and drilling in the antartic--it just wasn't me. Heck I sometimes leave the light on when I leave a room...so me being an environmentalist just seemed out of the question. Life lesson one: be open to change.
2. I have always been a thinker--something my mom and dad could never really relate to. I find it amazing that at times my dad can just stare off into space and literally let his mind go blank whereas my mom somehow lacked the cerebral axon for thought...instead of inner dialogue she constantly engages in a 'thought pattern' she likes to call the running of the mouth. Whereas my head is constantly a chatter--I find it hard to really be in the moment at times because I am constantly visually assessing my surroundings, taking in the sounds, making assesments, reviewing my life...thoughts just like my life never seem to stand still they are constantly playing and replaying in my head--to nauseum at times. So, you can just imagine how fun the prospect of traveling by myself for months on end would seem. But the more time I spent on the trail, sitting on beaches, exploring museums, getting lost in a good book or journaling away in some cafe the quieter the voices got--for the first time I was channeling all of my energy into positive outlets. Life became less about trying to make sense of everything that has ever happened to me and all the decisions for good or bad made in my life and more about moving forward. I used to think that I couldn't really move forward in my life until I had discovered the cure for cancer, cured world hunger and designed for new york's fashion week...funny thing is I never really understood until now...none of that stuff can happen without paying your dues and the groundwork being paved and that as long as I kept waiting for things to happen life would continue to pass me by.
3. Life lesson 3: nothing and I mean nothing is as good as connecting to others. I used to think the 5 minute conversations you had with strangers or the 5 hour long talks you had with a friend arguing over the impact of 'saved by the bell' on our generation is what fostered closeness...boy was I wrong. These last few months I have taken a good hard and at times painful look at myself and realized connections are built upon 'I' statements and joined together by understanding. The more one can level and be real even utter the hated psych 101 'i feel' statements the less guesswork that needs to be done in learning about one another. During this experience I have had some of my highest highs and my lowest lows, but somewhere along the way I stumbled upon myself. Maybe spending months on end completely out of your comfort zone can do that to someone, who knows...regardless I learned and continue to learn that what defines me is how I think and feel not the clothes I wear, the job I aspire to have or the people I know. It's that damn inner beauty everyone is always talking about--it's those people who you pass on the street you might not even utter one word to, but there is something about them that makes you smile, makes you want to be around them--they beam a type of goodness and comfort in their own skin--something we all want yet continue to fall into that trap that material possessions and superficial lifestyles will bring us closer to--never has and never will. Lesson three: inner beauty is where it's at.
...well, that's it for now too beautiful of a day to be kept inside..for all of you or rather maybe just my mom and dad at this point who continue to read my ramblings...god love you. Love you all!

They say when a woman gives birth and experiences the magical sensation of holding her newborn for the first time she is overwhelmed with her first true feelings of unconditional love...a love which I can only relate to how I feel about Gerty (and yes Betty has been renamed.) Now, Gerty is a 1997 piece of automobile history if you ask me and is quite particular in her likes/dislikes:
Name: Gertrude...Gerty for short
Likes: Long drives on the beach, parking underneath the stars, driving insync to the likes of Cat Stevens and 80s anything and everything
Dislikes: bumpy nonsealed roads, radio stations broadcasting how Jesus will save her soul and road rage
General Description: Child bearing hips good for supporting extra baggage in the trunk, has a few character defining dents and scrapes..all aquired in pursuit of tracking down villains, robbers, rapists, the likes, an engine that purrs like a lifelong smoker and yes her favorite book is "The Little Engine That Could" and she thinks hybrid cars are the yuppys of today's generation and much prefers old clunkers like herself
...but enough about my love child.
So this past week was spent driving from Nelson to Farewell Spit and back to Nelson (where I am currently.) Driving in general in this country is a real pleasure...with the lack of traffic due to the fact that sheep outnumber people in New Zealand makes long drives much enjoyable. Setting out on highway 6 I found myself overcome with feelings of excitement and a bit of nerves as well. I mean having the freedom to travel the whole entire country for a good two months...making your own route, starting and stopping wherever you want is a type of independence I had never experienced before. Of course this made me sing aloud to all my guilty pleasure music selections on the radio with a little headbanging thrown in there for good measure, roll down all the windows and make a point to stop at almost EVERY possible detour along the way...including the very exciting world of wearable arts museum and a rock that resembled an old man's face.
I drove through magestic mountains that can only be described as straight out of fairy tales, with snow-capped mountains, lush green dense forests covering the base of the mountains, clear rivers cutting through the base of the mountains...the roads through the mountains were extremely windy giving my abs a good workout from the constant shifting of the steering wheel from side to side...I found myself like a true tourist stopping every 10 feet to pullover and take a picture only to realize 10 feet up the road was an even better spot to take pictures...again thank god for the lack of traffic because it allowed me at times to travel under the speed limit so I could SAFELY get a good look at the everchanging jawdropping beautiful scenery surrounding me. Quite frequently there were detours to different beaches along the way. The beaches were all beautiful some with the typical white sand, but the more up the coast I traveled the more I encountered golden sandy beaches...it is hard to adequately describe the feeling that arises when you walk the span of a beach, sit atop some rocks on the edge of the beach and look back on to a seemingly endless path of your footsteps spanning the entire beach...and knowing for that one moment in time without a soul in sight you own that beach...and yes in a couple of hours the tide will come in and wash away your footprints just like it has with past travelers, but for that moment you have made your mark on the world.
I had the opportunity to venture on a couple of treks as well...the first hike I did was Takaka Hills which encompassed a combination of limestone, pastureland and beautiful views of golden bay...as evidenced from the pictures my only real competition for the trail came from the cows...and even when they weren't directly blocking the path their massive piles of shit were...I guess you can really say I have been viewing this country with fresh eyes because I ended up walking the trail 1.5 times before realizing I had already been up the path...but then again in this country it is so easy to get lost in the natural beauty.
I drove up to Totaranui, but not before doing a little tramping down to Aroha (another part of the Abel Tasman Coastal Track (one of the great walks in New Zealand.) I think I'm beginning to start to understand the magic of hiking...it is such a great opportunity to really clear your mind and sort through your life or at the very least scream at the top of your lungs to Ace of Base. The walk to Aroha was through a very lush, wet rain forest atmosphere with low-hanging banches, green moss covering everything and frequent corssings of little streams. The drive to Totaranui was along an unselaed very windy road and much to my delight I found myself caught behind a rabbit, bless it's dear soul, that didn't exactly understand the idea of jumping off the road to get out of the way and proceeded to hop for it's dear life ahead of Gerty...at times going well over 30km. At totaranui I explored the beach, hiked a bit more of different parts of the abel tasman track and did a lot of reading/journaling.
I'm almost embarrased to admit it, but I usually find myself going to bed at 8 at the latest and awaking at around 6am...there is just something so nice about rising and falling with the natural rhythms of the sun. One thing I wasn't expecting from traveling was becoming such a reader...I find I really crave the comfort of a good book along the road...not just for the obvious escape it provides, but for the intellectual stimulation that can sometimes be overlooked after months and months of traveling.
From Totaranui I hit pohara beach then made my way up the coast towards Farewell Spit...which of course had one of the biggest impacts on me thus far in my travels and I didn't have a working camera to capture the magical place...but maybe its better that way...forced me to really take in all the sights and sounds. I started out walking out along golden ashy beaches with the mountains in the background, white sandunes in the distance and a marshy wetland like atmosphere surrounding me...the type of place I'd envison you would find many a blue heron. The sand tended to make up little pocketed islands that were separated from one another by streams of water ranging from a few inches to a foot in depth...but easily navigable by foot. As I traversed my way from island to island, with a blue sky overhead, a few clouds in the sky resembling cotton that had been stretched apart and a rainbow far off in the distance, I could see a good 100 black swans gathering...With such a thin layer of sand separating the actual water from your foot it felt like you were tramping on a waterbed as each step gave way to a little bounce and giggle of the surrounding sand, the sand was covered in a rippled pattern that was mimiced in the water bodies nearby...created by the strong gusts of winds that at times were so strong that they caused my pants to act as sails. Some fo the black swans were flying low to the ground, creating an almost drumroll sound effect as they took flight and their white tipped wings flapped in the air, others floated along the water, but most just stood in groups debating whether to stay and make their way through the maze of sandy islands or venture into the great bay that lay just a few feet away. I can't tell you exactly why it's called farewell spit...maybe because it kind of looks like pools of spit...but for whatever reason I decided upon leaving the area to pay my respects by making a wish as I hocked a loogie and shouted 'farewell spit.'
This next week I will be heading to Nelson Lakes National Park and making my way to Westport and Greymouth...possibly, but who knows...that's what's so nice about this lifestyle...there are no set plans...everythings up in the air...and as long as I have gas in the tank and tunes blaring then this girl...or shall I say woman is utterly content. On that note a HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY to all you mother's out there that are reading this...but most importantly to my mom...I love you!