My dear friends, I am sorry to say that I have had to abbreviate my Australian adventure. My grandmother passed away last Thursday. I had been in Darwin on holiday with Aunt Alison and the kids, and as soon as we drove back to Alice, I threw my stuff in a bag, quit my jobs, and took a series of planes to arrive home by 10pm on Sunday.
Now I am back at in PA and have no idea if or when I might get back to Australia, but it certainly won't be in the near future.
I arrived in Australia in July planning on coming home in December. Within the first couple of weeks I had decided to extend my stay until next May. Now it is October, and I am home after only 2 and a half months. I ask your forgiveness in regards to the poor titling of this blog.
I had a fantastic experience in Alice and the other places I visited. I think that I really made the most of my time there, and I have no regrets whatsoever about the trip in general. Truly, it was the experience of a lifetime.
But this is where I need to be right now.
I still have a few things to share about my experiences down under, especially in regards to the aforementioned Darwin trip. I promise I'll get them up soon!
Thanks for reading and for sharing the experience with me. If I get back there, you can bet this blog will be up and running in a jiffy with all kinds of new tales of my escapades!
Peace.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
A+ for juxtsposition!
Territ'ry FM is waaay my favorite radio station around here. I remember my first weekend here, being totally thrilled to hear Neverending Story, and they have not stopped surprising me with the random half-forgotten songs they choose to play.
Today, when I got in the car after work, Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir" was on, so I cranked it and was rocking out. Obviously, "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" was the clear choice for the next song. Especially considering it's a blistering hot September day in the desert. Amazing.
Today was a rough day at work (somehow everyone ended up leaving early, leaving me with all of their rooms to clean solo. blergh). But it's amazing hoe music can 100% change your mood. That, and knowing that you get to go on vacation (again! I know!) tomorrow with your awesome aunt and awesome little cousins. Roadtrip to Darwin!!! w00t!!!
Today, when I got in the car after work, Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir" was on, so I cranked it and was rocking out. Obviously, "Walking in a Winter Wonderland" was the clear choice for the next song. Especially considering it's a blistering hot September day in the desert. Amazing.
Today was a rough day at work (somehow everyone ended up leaving early, leaving me with all of their rooms to clean solo. blergh). But it's amazing hoe music can 100% change your mood. That, and knowing that you get to go on vacation (again! I know!) tomorrow with your awesome aunt and awesome little cousins. Roadtrip to Darwin!!! w00t!!!
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Day 13: Home to the Red Centre
Sunday, September 14th~
Time to wrap this saga up.
I was awakened around 6 am in the international terminal by the bustle of people rushing to their early morning flights. I freshened up in the ladies room, finished the rest of the junk food for breakfast, and found my way to the shuttle to the domestic terminal. On the plane, I had a window seat and no one was in the seat next to me.
On all four flights on this trip, I was between the window and an empty seat. I didn't want to mention it, lest I jinx my good fortune. But I managed to go 4 for 4. That there's some good travel karma.
It was raining in Sydney when we took off. I found it consoling, not knowing how long it would be before I saw precipitation again. The flight gave me a lot of time to reflect on the trip, an opportunity I've never really given myself on previous vacations. I feel like I learned a lot about myself on this trip, about what I want. I loved the experience of traveling, and assessed how I could do it better next time. And there will be a next time. I am not done with New Zealand, and I have just begun my life of travel. This was a wonderful, eye-opening trip of a lifetime. Can't wait to have some more!
Time to wrap this saga up.
I was awakened around 6 am in the international terminal by the bustle of people rushing to their early morning flights. I freshened up in the ladies room, finished the rest of the junk food for breakfast, and found my way to the shuttle to the domestic terminal. On the plane, I had a window seat and no one was in the seat next to me.
On all four flights on this trip, I was between the window and an empty seat. I didn't want to mention it, lest I jinx my good fortune. But I managed to go 4 for 4. That there's some good travel karma.
It was raining in Sydney when we took off. I found it consoling, not knowing how long it would be before I saw precipitation again. The flight gave me a lot of time to reflect on the trip, an opportunity I've never really given myself on previous vacations. I feel like I learned a lot about myself on this trip, about what I want. I loved the experience of traveling, and assessed how I could do it better next time. And there will be a next time. I am not done with New Zealand, and I have just begun my life of travel. This was a wonderful, eye-opening trip of a lifetime. Can't wait to have some more!
Monday, September 22, 2008
Day 12: leaving (my heart in) New Zealand
Saturday, September 13th~
Today is a cold and gray day, identical to the one that greeted me on my arrival in Christchurch just over a week ago. It gives a sort of symmetry to the trip, I suppose. I got up and checked out of the hostel, stashed my stuff there and went off to say my goodbyes to New Zealand. Last night, Chelsea and Scotty had told me about a market that happens every Saturday, so I headed there first. They hadn’t quite finished setting up, so I treated myself to a delicious breakfast (one last decadent meal for the vacation), and went to browse the stands. I decided to splurge and but myself a jade pendant. I mentioned before that jade, or “greenstone” as it is more colloquially called, is really prominent in New Zealand. It has always been special to the Maori people, and there are certain shapes carved out of the stone that have special meaning to them; the twisted one that looks like a figure-8 (but can have more twists than just one), signifies two lives being bound together, and the spiral represents new birth. I bought a fishhook pendant. It represents “strength and determination and brings peace, prosperity and good health; also provides safe journey over water.” I am happy I have it, something to connect me to the country.
I wandered around for a little longer, then hopped on a shuttle to the International Antarctic Center. Way fun! I want to go there, man! Antarctica, that is. As an attraction, the center rocks! I rode on the Hägglund (the specialized vehicle for traveling over the harsh Antarctic terrain) on a cool obstacle course, watched a penguin feeding, weathered an Antarctic windstorm, watched all kinds of documentaries, and all-around boned up on my Antarctica trivia. The only thing I couldn’t find out was how much plane tickets are to get there. Very fun, though.
I walked from there to the international terminal across the street, dragging me increasingly dilapidated duffel behind me. I think this trip might be the end of the road for my duffel. I suppose it was never going to last forever. Besides, now that I’ve done a little bit of traveling, I desperately want to invest ina backpack. I think that I finally appreciate how much I can streamline my packing. My flight back to Sydney was on Emirates Airline. Love! It was so so nice! The food (lamb stew) was excellent, the wine was free, and I got to watch An Affair to Remember and have myself a good cry. (I think I need to move that film to my top 10. Maybe it’s there already.) But yeah, Emirates rocks.
When I got back to Sydney, I was going to see if I could ditch my duffel somewhere for the night so that I didn’t have to drag it around and further mutilate it. Note: it is impossible to get from the International Terminal to the Domestic Terminal on foot in Sydney, and you need to pay for the shuttle. What a crock! Well, I had a little sidewalk conference with one of the shuttle drivers, and we determined that I could save about $50 and a whole lot of hassle if I just crashed in the International Terminal for the night. Which I did. I figured, in addition to the economical benefit, it would just be an experience worth having once in my life, and why not have it on my terms? So I bought myself some junk food, busted out the book I bought in Christchurch (The Book Theif, an excellent read), and killed a couple of hours reading. Then it was time for the sleeping. The bench I had claimed in the terminal had four seats on it and was so close to being armless, and yet so far away. There was a sort of awkward divider kind of jutting out between each seat, so it was possible to avoid most of them if you curled up just right, but there was always at least one stubborn bar jabbing me. However, with some clever positioning of my sweatshirt, fleece and bookbag, I was able to sleep in hour increments throughout the night.
Hard to believe that morning comes early in an international terminal.
Today is a cold and gray day, identical to the one that greeted me on my arrival in Christchurch just over a week ago. It gives a sort of symmetry to the trip, I suppose. I got up and checked out of the hostel, stashed my stuff there and went off to say my goodbyes to New Zealand. Last night, Chelsea and Scotty had told me about a market that happens every Saturday, so I headed there first. They hadn’t quite finished setting up, so I treated myself to a delicious breakfast (one last decadent meal for the vacation), and went to browse the stands. I decided to splurge and but myself a jade pendant. I mentioned before that jade, or “greenstone” as it is more colloquially called, is really prominent in New Zealand. It has always been special to the Maori people, and there are certain shapes carved out of the stone that have special meaning to them; the twisted one that looks like a figure-8 (but can have more twists than just one), signifies two lives being bound together, and the spiral represents new birth. I bought a fishhook pendant. It represents “strength and determination and brings peace, prosperity and good health; also provides safe journey over water.” I am happy I have it, something to connect me to the country.
I wandered around for a little longer, then hopped on a shuttle to the International Antarctic Center. Way fun! I want to go there, man! Antarctica, that is. As an attraction, the center rocks! I rode on the Hägglund (the specialized vehicle for traveling over the harsh Antarctic terrain) on a cool obstacle course, watched a penguin feeding, weathered an Antarctic windstorm, watched all kinds of documentaries, and all-around boned up on my Antarctica trivia. The only thing I couldn’t find out was how much plane tickets are to get there. Very fun, though.
I walked from there to the international terminal across the street, dragging me increasingly dilapidated duffel behind me. I think this trip might be the end of the road for my duffel. I suppose it was never going to last forever. Besides, now that I’ve done a little bit of traveling, I desperately want to invest ina backpack. I think that I finally appreciate how much I can streamline my packing. My flight back to Sydney was on Emirates Airline. Love! It was so so nice! The food (lamb stew) was excellent, the wine was free, and I got to watch An Affair to Remember and have myself a good cry. (I think I need to move that film to my top 10. Maybe it’s there already.) But yeah, Emirates rocks.
When I got back to Sydney, I was going to see if I could ditch my duffel somewhere for the night so that I didn’t have to drag it around and further mutilate it. Note: it is impossible to get from the International Terminal to the Domestic Terminal on foot in Sydney, and you need to pay for the shuttle. What a crock! Well, I had a little sidewalk conference with one of the shuttle drivers, and we determined that I could save about $50 and a whole lot of hassle if I just crashed in the International Terminal for the night. Which I did. I figured, in addition to the economical benefit, it would just be an experience worth having once in my life, and why not have it on my terms? So I bought myself some junk food, busted out the book I bought in Christchurch (The Book Theif, an excellent read), and killed a couple of hours reading. Then it was time for the sleeping. The bench I had claimed in the terminal had four seats on it and was so close to being armless, and yet so far away. There was a sort of awkward divider kind of jutting out between each seat, so it was possible to avoid most of them if you curled up just right, but there was always at least one stubborn bar jabbing me. However, with some clever positioning of my sweatshirt, fleece and bookbag, I was able to sleep in hour increments throughout the night.
Hard to believe that morning comes early in an international terminal.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Day 11: Riding, improv, and a cute puppy
Friday, September 12th~
This morning got off to a foggy start, but it burned off pretty quickly. Vicki, Laura T., Laura H. and I got a ride from the Lodge manager over to Grasmere in order to do some horseback riding. I guess I just can’t get enough! I am so sooo glad I went riding again! It was such a great experience! Heather, the woman who owns the horses and runs the little horse-trekking business, greeted us in the yard with the horses already tacked up. The saddles weren’t western, but they weren’t English either, and were terribly comfortable. However, the coolest thing was that Heather is really conscious of the horses’ comfort, so she doesn’t use bits. The horses are trained to respond to the different tensions on the ropes tied loosely around their muzzles. So fantastic! I rode a great Clydesdale named Agnes. She was stubborn by nature, but I asserted myself fairly well at the beginning of the ride and soon she was doing (almost) everything I asked her to. We were riding single file for a while, meandering among the rolling hills of the rambling sheep station. I guess Heather thought I could handle myself pretty well, because after a while she said that Agnes and I could go off exploring away from the group. I was pretty tickled that she had such faith in me, truth be told. So Agnes and I wandered around, taking in the stunning views of the surrounding mountains and winding along the faint sheep trails. Unbelievable, friends. Positively stunning. I love horseback riding! Of course, our ride was over too quickly, but we had to get back to Flock Hill to meet the rest of the group for a farm show. (Somehow, Scotty and I managed to squeeze in a couple episodes of Family Guy, though.)
Now, the phrase “farm show”, for me, conjures images of performing farm animals or a staged “day on the farm.” Not the case at Flock Hill, though. Richie, the farmer, took us with him while he went about his business on the station. Today, he had to shift a mob of sheep (about 2000) from one paddock to another. We just stood back and watched him work the herd with the help of two of his dogs, Minnie and Claude. It was so neat to watch! The dogs were crazy-efficient and seemed to like showing off for us, too. At Richie’s suggestion, we shifted our departure time to a little bit later, went and got some lunch, then came back in time to watch them shear a few sheep. It was quite the spectacle. The shearers were magicians! Ooh! We also got to meet an adorable puppy named Mack. Like, crazy crazy adorable puppy. I wanted to keep him. We also met Cindy, Richie’s kids’ pet sheep. She reminded me of Ma from Babe.
Once we finally got on the road (now on the Ching Chong China Bus), we got to Christchurch in no time. We get there around 3pm and had plenty of time to kill before dinner; I spent most of it in an internet café and perusing souvenir shops. Since this was the end of the line for me (most of the group continued on to tour the North Island), I checked in at my hostel and caught up with the gang in time for dinner. We ate at the Dux deLux (yummy seafood Jumbalaya) before heading to the Court Theatre for an improv show called Scared Scriptless. It was hilarious! But it made me miss my days in –{Rough Edges>. A show highlight was definitely when they asked for suggestions from the audience for a body part, and an old woman further down our row whipped off her artificial leg and handed it to the MC. He was so excited he didn’t know what to do! There were some really great sketches (some that I still play in my head more than a week later), and the ensemble was solid. As we were leaving the theatre, Scotty asked what people wanted to do. Not terribly surprisingly, everyone opted to go to bed. I didn’t feel like calling it a night; if I went to bed, then the tour would be over. So I sat on a bench in Cathedral Square, journaling, listening to strains of Danny Boy and Auld Land Sine float into the square from a
distant flute, and trying to figure out how to get back to New Zealand.
Thus ends my New Zealand Connections tour.
This morning got off to a foggy start, but it burned off pretty quickly. Vicki, Laura T., Laura H. and I got a ride from the Lodge manager over to Grasmere in order to do some horseback riding. I guess I just can’t get enough! I am so sooo glad I went riding again! It was such a great experience! Heather, the woman who owns the horses and runs the little horse-trekking business, greeted us in the yard with the horses already tacked up. The saddles weren’t western, but they weren’t English either, and were terribly comfortable. However, the coolest thing was that Heather is really conscious of the horses’ comfort, so she doesn’t use bits. The horses are trained to respond to the different tensions on the ropes tied loosely around their muzzles. So fantastic! I rode a great Clydesdale named Agnes. She was stubborn by nature, but I asserted myself fairly well at the beginning of the ride and soon she was doing (almost) everything I asked her to. We were riding single file for a while, meandering among the rolling hills of the rambling sheep station. I guess Heather thought I could handle myself pretty well, because after a while she said that Agnes and I could go off exploring away from the group. I was pretty tickled that she had such faith in me, truth be told. So Agnes and I wandered around, taking in the stunning views of the surrounding mountains and winding along the faint sheep trails. Unbelievable, friends. Positively stunning. I love horseback riding! Of course, our ride was over too quickly, but we had to get back to Flock Hill to meet the rest of the group for a farm show. (Somehow, Scotty and I managed to squeeze in a couple episodes of Family Guy, though.)
Now, the phrase “farm show”, for me, conjures images of performing farm animals or a staged “day on the farm.” Not the case at Flock Hill, though. Richie, the farmer, took us with him while he went about his business on the station. Today, he had to shift a mob of sheep (about 2000) from one paddock to another. We just stood back and watched him work the herd with the help of two of his dogs, Minnie and Claude. It was so neat to watch! The dogs were crazy-efficient and seemed to like showing off for us, too. At Richie’s suggestion, we shifted our departure time to a little bit later, went and got some lunch, then came back in time to watch them shear a few sheep. It was quite the spectacle. The shearers were magicians! Ooh! We also got to meet an adorable puppy named Mack. Like, crazy crazy adorable puppy. I wanted to keep him. We also met Cindy, Richie’s kids’ pet sheep. She reminded me of Ma from Babe.
Once we finally got on the road (now on the Ching Chong China Bus), we got to Christchurch in no time. We get there around 3pm and had plenty of time to kill before dinner; I spent most of it in an internet café and perusing souvenir shops. Since this was the end of the line for me (most of the group continued on to tour the North Island), I checked in at my hostel and caught up with the gang in time for dinner. We ate at the Dux deLux (yummy seafood Jumbalaya) before heading to the Court Theatre for an improv show called Scared Scriptless. It was hilarious! But it made me miss my days in –{Rough Edges>. A show highlight was definitely when they asked for suggestions from the audience for a body part, and an old woman further down our row whipped off her artificial leg and handed it to the MC. He was so excited he didn’t know what to do! There were some really great sketches (some that I still play in my head more than a week later), and the ensemble was solid. As we were leaving the theatre, Scotty asked what people wanted to do. Not terribly surprisingly, everyone opted to go to bed. I didn’t feel like calling it a night; if I went to bed, then the tour would be over. So I sat on a bench in Cathedral Square, journaling, listening to strains of Danny Boy and Auld Land Sine float into the square from a
distant flute, and trying to figure out how to get back to New Zealand.
Thus ends my New Zealand Connections tour.
Day 10: Ice Caves Cometh
Thursday, September 11th~
Despite the clouds of the previous afternoon, this morning was crystal clear. Perfect day for a heli-hike! Vicki, Tracey, Laura B., Debra and I were the only ones who managed to justify spending $315 on such a venture. We were right. The helicopter (my first time riding in one- very cool) dropped us off about 3 kilometers from the terminal face of Fox Glacier, maybe half way up, with our guide, Hillary (Middlebury, class of ’05- yay Vermont!). She was great and told us so much about Fox Glacier and took us exploring through some stellar ice caves.
*It is one of the only glaciers in the world that is getting bigger. It grows about 1.5 meters every day. (The other one that is growing is the nearby Franz Joseph Glacier.)
*It is one of the only glaciers that is surrounded by temperate rain forest. This is because it is at an unusually low altitude. If I remember correctly, it is only 800 meters above sea level at its highest point.
The area we were exploring (with the help of crampons and pointy sticks; apparently ice is slippery), changes really frequently, actually, it changes almost constantly. As Hillary told us, the glacier is like a river, flowing down from the nevé to the terminal face, and where we were hiking was like a really big bend in the river. As the ice flows around the bend, it gets forced back on itself forming caves and other cool formations. We got up there around 8:20, so the sun hadn’t hit the ice yet. Then, Hillary took us through a particularly long and complex cave and when we emerged, it was into a totally different world, dazzling bright in the sunlight. Amazing! It got pretty warm pretty fast, which helped us dry off as that big cave had involved a lot of wet butt-wiggling action in order to get through the narrower fissures. It has always been one of my favorite things to climb around on rocks; climbing around on glaciers is now up there, too! I took a whole lot of pictures, so I hope they turn out alright. I can’t imagine they truly capture the magic of the setting, though. It was an excellent experience.
After the helicopter had taken us back to the village of Fox Glacier, we grabbed a bite at the Cook Saddle for lunch (I had a phenomenal breakfast quesadilla). By the time we were done, a replacement van had arrived. I found it quite comfortable, comfy enough to take a nap in. On the road, we stopped in Hokatika, a seaside town that is kind of a center for jade drafting. Jade is HUGE in New Zealand. In the 45 minutes we were in Hokatika, I wandered around a Jade factory and shop, waded in the Tasman Sea, and met someone who actually got the joke on my censorship button. I was very productive. We went from there to Flock Hill Lodge, a working sheep station. We had two cabins, but most of us crammed into one, planning on partying it up later. We went to dinner and hung out drinking wine for a while, as more and more people trickled off to bed. So much for partying it up. In bed by 11:30ish.
Despite the clouds of the previous afternoon, this morning was crystal clear. Perfect day for a heli-hike! Vicki, Tracey, Laura B., Debra and I were the only ones who managed to justify spending $315 on such a venture. We were right. The helicopter (my first time riding in one- very cool) dropped us off about 3 kilometers from the terminal face of Fox Glacier, maybe half way up, with our guide, Hillary (Middlebury, class of ’05- yay Vermont!). She was great and told us so much about Fox Glacier and took us exploring through some stellar ice caves.
Fun Facts about Fox Glacier:
*It is one of the only glaciers in the world that is getting bigger. It grows about 1.5 meters every day. (The other one that is growing is the nearby Franz Joseph Glacier.)
*It is one of the only glaciers that is surrounded by temperate rain forest. This is because it is at an unusually low altitude. If I remember correctly, it is only 800 meters above sea level at its highest point.
The area we were exploring (with the help of crampons and pointy sticks; apparently ice is slippery), changes really frequently, actually, it changes almost constantly. As Hillary told us, the glacier is like a river, flowing down from the nevé to the terminal face, and where we were hiking was like a really big bend in the river. As the ice flows around the bend, it gets forced back on itself forming caves and other cool formations. We got up there around 8:20, so the sun hadn’t hit the ice yet. Then, Hillary took us through a particularly long and complex cave and when we emerged, it was into a totally different world, dazzling bright in the sunlight. Amazing! It got pretty warm pretty fast, which helped us dry off as that big cave had involved a lot of wet butt-wiggling action in order to get through the narrower fissures. It has always been one of my favorite things to climb around on rocks; climbing around on glaciers is now up there, too! I took a whole lot of pictures, so I hope they turn out alright. I can’t imagine they truly capture the magic of the setting, though. It was an excellent experience.
After the helicopter had taken us back to the village of Fox Glacier, we grabbed a bite at the Cook Saddle for lunch (I had a phenomenal breakfast quesadilla). By the time we were done, a replacement van had arrived. I found it quite comfortable, comfy enough to take a nap in. On the road, we stopped in Hokatika, a seaside town that is kind of a center for jade drafting. Jade is HUGE in New Zealand. In the 45 minutes we were in Hokatika, I wandered around a Jade factory and shop, waded in the Tasman Sea, and met someone who actually got the joke on my censorship button. I was very productive. We went from there to Flock Hill Lodge, a working sheep station. We had two cabins, but most of us crammed into one, planning on partying it up later. We went to dinner and hung out drinking wine for a while, as more and more people trickled off to bed. So much for partying it up. In bed by 11:30ish.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Day 9: Glaciers and Glow Worms
Wednesday, September 10th~
Today we left Queenstown in time to hit the Kawarau Bungy Jump (AJ Hackett’s original commercial bungy) before the rush. 3 of our group took the plunge (pun absolutely intended): Laura and Vanesha went tandem and Megan flew solo. I wanted to do it so badly! I was close, but I really think my health insurance would have had a problem with it. Oh well, just another reason to come back! After the jumps, we boarded the bus for a long and boring day of coach travel. Of course, even boring days in New Zealand are pretty exciting; we saw some really fantastic waterfalls pouring down through the temperate rainforest, and we stopped to look at the Tasman Sea. There were a couple of episodes of Friends to break up the monotony, but it was a lot of sitting. Luckily I was endlessly entertained by the changing terrain outside the bus windows. New Zealand is perpetually beautiful.
Fox Glacier is the definition of a quaint little town; population 260 when it’s full, and the sole industry is taking groups to see the glacier. Laura T. and I went to our room (very nice- yet another upgrade for our tour!), had some crappy instant cocoa, and met Vicki, Emma, Vanesha, Laura B. and Debra to go for a walk around Like Matheson. Murray, the town gossip, drove us out and told us a little bit about the area. The walk itself was so nice! The clouds blocked some of the more impressive reflections, but it was still beautiful. We were walking shortly before dusk, so the light was just lovely. We came back and killed time til dinner, then walked across the street to the Cook Saddle, one of the two restaurants in town. Oh man, did I pack it in. Laura T. and I made a conscious effort to eat as much as we could. A huge chicken quesadilla, fires, garlic bread, a banana split and beer. Mmmm mmmm! During dinner, Scotty and I swapped bad jokes. Hilarious!
When we finished eating, we went on a nighttime walk to see the glow worms. It was so neat! They twinkled like pale blue stars on the trees and in overhangs. As we walked, Scotty would sneak off to try to terrify us. It worked on a couple of people, but not this girl. Walking back, we swapped some scary stories, but the rest of the girls weren’t interested in hearing them. A few of us made our way to the hotel bar, where I entertained myself with darts. In bed by 10:30. I know that I am no night owl, but even I wouldn’t mind staying up later than this!
PS. Today, Roxanne the bus died. Sad times.
Today we left Queenstown in time to hit the Kawarau Bungy Jump (AJ Hackett’s original commercial bungy) before the rush. 3 of our group took the plunge (pun absolutely intended): Laura and Vanesha went tandem and Megan flew solo. I wanted to do it so badly! I was close, but I really think my health insurance would have had a problem with it. Oh well, just another reason to come back! After the jumps, we boarded the bus for a long and boring day of coach travel. Of course, even boring days in New Zealand are pretty exciting; we saw some really fantastic waterfalls pouring down through the temperate rainforest, and we stopped to look at the Tasman Sea. There were a couple of episodes of Friends to break up the monotony, but it was a lot of sitting. Luckily I was endlessly entertained by the changing terrain outside the bus windows. New Zealand is perpetually beautiful.
Fox Glacier is the definition of a quaint little town; population 260 when it’s full, and the sole industry is taking groups to see the glacier. Laura T. and I went to our room (very nice- yet another upgrade for our tour!), had some crappy instant cocoa, and met Vicki, Emma, Vanesha, Laura B. and Debra to go for a walk around Like Matheson. Murray, the town gossip, drove us out and told us a little bit about the area. The walk itself was so nice! The clouds blocked some of the more impressive reflections, but it was still beautiful. We were walking shortly before dusk, so the light was just lovely. We came back and killed time til dinner, then walked across the street to the Cook Saddle, one of the two restaurants in town. Oh man, did I pack it in. Laura T. and I made a conscious effort to eat as much as we could. A huge chicken quesadilla, fires, garlic bread, a banana split and beer. Mmmm mmmm! During dinner, Scotty and I swapped bad jokes. Hilarious!
When we finished eating, we went on a nighttime walk to see the glow worms. It was so neat! They twinkled like pale blue stars on the trees and in overhangs. As we walked, Scotty would sneak off to try to terrify us. It worked on a couple of people, but not this girl. Walking back, we swapped some scary stories, but the rest of the girls weren’t interested in hearing them. A few of us made our way to the hotel bar, where I entertained myself with darts. In bed by 10:30. I know that I am no night owl, but even I wouldn’t mind staying up later than this!
PS. Today, Roxanne the bus died. Sad times.
Day 8: Riding and Wining and Dining
Tuesday, September 9th~
I got up around 7 today, showered, got my stuff together, and went to breakfast. It had to be an early start because at 8:30, I got picked up by Dart Stables to go and do The Ride of the Rings!!! We stopped in Glenorchy to get rain coats and helmets, and then continued on to the very aptly named township of Paradise. There were only 4 people plus the guide, so it was a nice small group. We were each paired with a horse, and then we set off. Mine was Chester, a beautiful ginger horse and sort of the leader of the pack. He liked to walk near the front of the line, which was hunky dory with me. We rode through the cold and drenching rain to see various sites from Lord of the Rings filming, including Loth Lorien, the distant site of Isengard, the field where Gandalf calls Shadowfax, and where Boromir was killed. However, the fun didn’t end there! We also saw places where they filmed scenes for the upcoming X-men spin-off Wolverine, where Prince Caspian fell from his horse and Trufflehunter’s house from The Chronicles of Narnia, and where they filmed some scenes for Willow! Very exciting stuff. Apparently, Peter Jackson also filmed some scenes there for The Lovely Bones, which is fun because the bulk of the filming was done back in Westchester, PA. Small world! And yes, since it was raining, I managed to get soaked on this activity, too.
I got back to Queenstown in time to meet the group to go on the Gondola (the steepest in the world), and the luge (a kind of go-cart situation, supposedly very fun), but most people bailed when they heard the luge was closed due to rain. Scotty, Megan, Laura T., Tracey and I still went for the gondola experience. I imagine it’s quite magnificent when there aren’t clouds shrouding your view. We chatted over hot beverages in the café at the top and browsed the souvenir selection before heading back down the mountain. When we got down, I left the others to go and check out the Kiwi and Birdlife Park. Why do I insist on observing animals in the rain? I walked around for a while and determined that it definitely wasn’t worth the $33. And that was with the YHA discount. But it was cool to see the Kiwis. They’re nocturnal, so I couldn’t take any pictures, but I still enjoyed the spectacle. I was shocked at how big they are; I always figured they were, like, the same size as the fruit, but these guys were the size of basketballs!
I went from there to wander around downtown Queenstown and Ran into Laura T. and Tracey again. They were on their way to taste wine and I hastily joined them. The shop we went to was really cool! The walls were lined with bottles of wine, enclosed behind glass and hooked up to dispensers. When you get there, you get a card and can either use it as a credit card and pay on your way out, or put money on it and use it like a debit card; then they give you a wine glass and you insert your card into the various dispensers , push a button and presto! Wine for the tasting! I stuck to New Zealand wines, and studiously recorded every one that I tasted, mostly so that I could hold and intelligent conversation with Cassy later. After we had sampled as much as we could before they kicked us out for a private function, we went to the food court to get a light Indian snack, then headed back to our room at the Lakeview Holiday Park.
It ended up being a pretty quiet Tuesday evening; everyone split up for dinner. Scotty, Laura T., Tracey, Vicki and I went to a delightful pub, The Pig and Whistle. I had bangers and mash and some yummy Montheith’s Black. Totally delish; I would recommend it to anyone passing through Queenstown. We went to the Buffalo Club to meet the rest of the group, but shortly after we got there, almost everyone left to go to bed. I stuck around for a little bit, but before long, the rest of us decided to head back, too. Kind of a bummer of a night out, but hey, at least I didn’t spend a lot of money.
I got up around 7 today, showered, got my stuff together, and went to breakfast. It had to be an early start because at 8:30, I got picked up by Dart Stables to go and do The Ride of the Rings!!! We stopped in Glenorchy to get rain coats and helmets, and then continued on to the very aptly named township of Paradise. There were only 4 people plus the guide, so it was a nice small group. We were each paired with a horse, and then we set off. Mine was Chester, a beautiful ginger horse and sort of the leader of the pack. He liked to walk near the front of the line, which was hunky dory with me. We rode through the cold and drenching rain to see various sites from Lord of the Rings filming, including Loth Lorien, the distant site of Isengard, the field where Gandalf calls Shadowfax, and where Boromir was killed. However, the fun didn’t end there! We also saw places where they filmed scenes for the upcoming X-men spin-off Wolverine, where Prince Caspian fell from his horse and Trufflehunter’s house from The Chronicles of Narnia, and where they filmed some scenes for Willow! Very exciting stuff. Apparently, Peter Jackson also filmed some scenes there for The Lovely Bones, which is fun because the bulk of the filming was done back in Westchester, PA. Small world! And yes, since it was raining, I managed to get soaked on this activity, too.
I got back to Queenstown in time to meet the group to go on the Gondola (the steepest in the world), and the luge (a kind of go-cart situation, supposedly very fun), but most people bailed when they heard the luge was closed due to rain. Scotty, Megan, Laura T., Tracey and I still went for the gondola experience. I imagine it’s quite magnificent when there aren’t clouds shrouding your view. We chatted over hot beverages in the café at the top and browsed the souvenir selection before heading back down the mountain. When we got down, I left the others to go and check out the Kiwi and Birdlife Park. Why do I insist on observing animals in the rain? I walked around for a while and determined that it definitely wasn’t worth the $33. And that was with the YHA discount. But it was cool to see the Kiwis. They’re nocturnal, so I couldn’t take any pictures, but I still enjoyed the spectacle. I was shocked at how big they are; I always figured they were, like, the same size as the fruit, but these guys were the size of basketballs!
I went from there to wander around downtown Queenstown and Ran into Laura T. and Tracey again. They were on their way to taste wine and I hastily joined them. The shop we went to was really cool! The walls were lined with bottles of wine, enclosed behind glass and hooked up to dispensers. When you get there, you get a card and can either use it as a credit card and pay on your way out, or put money on it and use it like a debit card; then they give you a wine glass and you insert your card into the various dispensers , push a button and presto! Wine for the tasting! I stuck to New Zealand wines, and studiously recorded every one that I tasted, mostly so that I could hold and intelligent conversation with Cassy later. After we had sampled as much as we could before they kicked us out for a private function, we went to the food court to get a light Indian snack, then headed back to our room at the Lakeview Holiday Park.
It ended up being a pretty quiet Tuesday evening; everyone split up for dinner. Scotty, Laura T., Tracey, Vicki and I went to a delightful pub, The Pig and Whistle. I had bangers and mash and some yummy Montheith’s Black. Totally delish; I would recommend it to anyone passing through Queenstown. We went to the Buffalo Club to meet the rest of the group, but shortly after we got there, almost everyone left to go to bed. I stuck around for a little bit, but before long, the rest of us decided to head back, too. Kind of a bummer of a night out, but hey, at least I didn’t spend a lot of money.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Day 7: Queenstown! Self-proclaimed Adrenaline Capital of the Wolrd!
Monday, September 8th~
This morning, I was up by 7 on the Milford Mariner. Another great breakfast buffet before the boat started cruising around some more. We were going out to the Tasman Sea before returning to port. It got a lot rougher when we left the safety of the fiord. A whole bunch of us were leaning over the rail on the bow when a large and unexpected wave drenched us. Give the events of the previous day, no one was surprised that I would up wet. It was neat being out in the open sea, though. Looking back towards the fiord, you could hardly tell it was there; in fact, when Captain Cook himself drew the first map of New Zealand, it was nearly perfect, except for the omission of Milford Sound. It wasn’t discovered until generations later, by a man named Milford, if I’m not mistaken. On the way back through the fiord, we saw seals sunning themselves on the rocks and penguins bobbing alongside the boat. We were all bummed out not to see any dolphins, but I think we got over it pretty fast. The waterfalls and cliffs were too spectacular to spend any time lamenting absent dolphins.
We got back to Milford and headed to Queenstown, adrenaline capital of the world! On the way, we stopped in Te Anau again for lunch and watched Dirty Dancing on the bus. Naturally, “Time of my Life” became our unofficial theme song for the rest of the tour. As we trekked, the scenery looked so much like Rohan it couldn’t have been anything else. After arriving in Queenstown, I took off to explore the town. I caught up with the fam (well, some of them), thanks to Skype and an internet café. Then I went on a hunt for mittens. No dice, but I did find a really fantastic turquoise hat, so that was cool. I met the group (sans Laura H. and Laura T.), to go and experience the Shotover Jet. The Shotover Jet is a high speed jet boat that operates on the Shotover River, which is lined by steep canyon walls. What a thrill! The driver would swerve as close as possible to the canyon walls (sending Emma into absolute hysterics), and take us into drenching 360⁰ spins. It was like a 25 minute roller coaster ride, but with a Wild Water Rapids spin. I think it was totally worth it to do, and I somehow even managed to convince myself to splash out (no pun intended) for a souvenir photo pack. I’m glad I’ll have something to remember it by. Once again, though, I managed to get soaked. Now I’m that girl. Great.
Later, we met for dinner; Ferg Burger was the destination du jour. It’s a burger joint with a really nice array of burgers (go figure). I was assured that they were the best burgers ever. I don’t know that I would go that far, but I did have a pretty spectacular meal. I went for Mr. Big Stuff: 1/2lb of meat with bacon (American-style streaky bacon, which is infinitely better than crap Aussie bacon- no offense), mild Edam cheese, bbq sauce, and all the fixin’s. Everything I like in a burger! Next, we went next door for some ice cream. After far too much time deliberating, I settled on a cone of Fruit Salad sorbet. I assure you I was not disappointed. We hung out at Fraser’s (a bar), until we could get into our next destination: Minus 5⁰! The bar is completely made of ice, so we got kitted out with parkas and gloves, paid our $22, and went in. It was so much fun! The drinks (all vodka cocktails), were served in glasses made of ice; the bar was ice; the walls were ice; there were ice sculptures everywhere! It was -7⁰C while we were in there, so it was truly the real McCoy. Quite the experience!
Afterwards (‘cause you’re only allowed to stay in there for a half an hour), we went back to Fraser’s for a few more drinks. I disappeared from the group for a little bit to call Babs for her birthday, then met them in time for some bar dancing (not me, I assure you). As they say, it’s all fun and games… until a bar stool falls on someone’s foot. In this case, Megan’s. I’m not sure exactly how it all happened, but she was in a lot of pain. So a contingent of people walked her home, and the rest of us made our way to the World Bar. Finally a really good dark beer! Monteith’s Black, a nice porter. Everyone thought I was drinking Guinness, which was just silly. I tried to explain the difference between porter and stout, but they weren’t interested. Who can blame them? We were all too busy doing shots from a tea pot anyway. It was a fun novelty, but the shots were all really really sweet. At one point, a guy came over and stamped our hands so that we could get free drinks for the rest of the night. I never figured out why, but I am not one to question. I had a few more beers and called it a night.
Highlight: the played Crabbukkit!!! I was the only one excited about it, but my excitement waaay over-compensated.
Indeed, the nightlife in Queenstown is none too shabby!
This morning, I was up by 7 on the Milford Mariner. Another great breakfast buffet before the boat started cruising around some more. We were going out to the Tasman Sea before returning to port. It got a lot rougher when we left the safety of the fiord. A whole bunch of us were leaning over the rail on the bow when a large and unexpected wave drenched us. Give the events of the previous day, no one was surprised that I would up wet. It was neat being out in the open sea, though. Looking back towards the fiord, you could hardly tell it was there; in fact, when Captain Cook himself drew the first map of New Zealand, it was nearly perfect, except for the omission of Milford Sound. It wasn’t discovered until generations later, by a man named Milford, if I’m not mistaken. On the way back through the fiord, we saw seals sunning themselves on the rocks and penguins bobbing alongside the boat. We were all bummed out not to see any dolphins, but I think we got over it pretty fast. The waterfalls and cliffs were too spectacular to spend any time lamenting absent dolphins.
We got back to Milford and headed to Queenstown, adrenaline capital of the world! On the way, we stopped in Te Anau again for lunch and watched Dirty Dancing on the bus. Naturally, “Time of my Life” became our unofficial theme song for the rest of the tour. As we trekked, the scenery looked so much like Rohan it couldn’t have been anything else. After arriving in Queenstown, I took off to explore the town. I caught up with the fam (well, some of them), thanks to Skype and an internet café. Then I went on a hunt for mittens. No dice, but I did find a really fantastic turquoise hat, so that was cool. I met the group (sans Laura H. and Laura T.), to go and experience the Shotover Jet. The Shotover Jet is a high speed jet boat that operates on the Shotover River, which is lined by steep canyon walls. What a thrill! The driver would swerve as close as possible to the canyon walls (sending Emma into absolute hysterics), and take us into drenching 360⁰ spins. It was like a 25 minute roller coaster ride, but with a Wild Water Rapids spin. I think it was totally worth it to do, and I somehow even managed to convince myself to splash out (no pun intended) for a souvenir photo pack. I’m glad I’ll have something to remember it by. Once again, though, I managed to get soaked. Now I’m that girl. Great.
Later, we met for dinner; Ferg Burger was the destination du jour. It’s a burger joint with a really nice array of burgers (go figure). I was assured that they were the best burgers ever. I don’t know that I would go that far, but I did have a pretty spectacular meal. I went for Mr. Big Stuff: 1/2lb of meat with bacon (American-style streaky bacon, which is infinitely better than crap Aussie bacon- no offense), mild Edam cheese, bbq sauce, and all the fixin’s. Everything I like in a burger! Next, we went next door for some ice cream. After far too much time deliberating, I settled on a cone of Fruit Salad sorbet. I assure you I was not disappointed. We hung out at Fraser’s (a bar), until we could get into our next destination: Minus 5⁰! The bar is completely made of ice, so we got kitted out with parkas and gloves, paid our $22, and went in. It was so much fun! The drinks (all vodka cocktails), were served in glasses made of ice; the bar was ice; the walls were ice; there were ice sculptures everywhere! It was -7⁰C while we were in there, so it was truly the real McCoy. Quite the experience!
Afterwards (‘cause you’re only allowed to stay in there for a half an hour), we went back to Fraser’s for a few more drinks. I disappeared from the group for a little bit to call Babs for her birthday, then met them in time for some bar dancing (not me, I assure you). As they say, it’s all fun and games… until a bar stool falls on someone’s foot. In this case, Megan’s. I’m not sure exactly how it all happened, but she was in a lot of pain. So a contingent of people walked her home, and the rest of us made our way to the World Bar. Finally a really good dark beer! Monteith’s Black, a nice porter. Everyone thought I was drinking Guinness, which was just silly. I tried to explain the difference between porter and stout, but they weren’t interested. Who can blame them? We were all too busy doing shots from a tea pot anyway. It was a fun novelty, but the shots were all really really sweet. At one point, a guy came over and stamped our hands so that we could get free drinks for the rest of the night. I never figured out why, but I am not one to question. I had a few more beers and called it a night.
Highlight: the played Crabbukkit!!! I was the only one excited about it, but my excitement waaay over-compensated.
Indeed, the nightlife in Queenstown is none too shabby!
Day 6 (Part II): Party in the fiord!
Once we were safely anchored in Harrison's Bay, there was an opportunity for various aquatic activities. Some people went out on the tendercraft, a motor boat wildlife experience. Sounded great, but this girl opted for kayaking! I mean, how many times in your life do you get an opportunity to kayak in a fiord? I couldn't pass it up.
We all managed to get into our kayaks, and were lining up for a group photot, when the inevitable happened.
I fell out of the kayak. Into the fiord. In the winter.
My first thought was "Thank God I didn't bring my camera!" Followed instantly by "GOOD LORD THIS WATER IS BLEEPING FREEZING!" However, I managed to hand my flip flops to Felix, our guide, swim back to the ship, and got back into my kayak with some dignity. Of course, I was famous on the ship for being the one who fell in, but it's all good. Actually, I had my suit on under my clothes and had fully intended to go for a dip later, but it was shocking to go in so entirely unexpected. But all part of the experience, eh?
We paddled around the bay for over an hour and it was so beautiful! We saw nesting fiordland penguins, the second rarest breed of penguin in the world, and they were so cute! One little guy was hopping around on the rocks, putting on a little show. But really, when it comes to show-offs, the seals take the cake! New Zealand Fur Seals were swimming all around us as we kayaked around. Very very cool. I headed back a little bit before everyone else in order to go for the aforementioned swim. Scotty had said he would go, too, but when I got back, he was taking a nap, so I went it alone. Well, not entirely alone. There were a lot of disbelieving onlookers on the back on the ship when I dove in. The water was about 10 degrees Celsius (roughly 52 degrees Fahrenheit). Might as well have been freezing! But it was exhilarating and it only took me a couple of hours to warm up afterwards; I warmed up with a cold shower. I looked like I had a terrible sunburn, my skin was so red from the cold. Good times.
Dinner on the ship was marvelous! Tomato and lentil soup, seafood salad, scalloped potatoes, yams, roasted veggies, salmon, satay chicken, rice pilaf, pasta, and countless desserts. It was quite an event. After dinner, we watched a slide show about the fiord, then Chelsea, Scotty, Megan and I settled in for a nice long game of Monopoly. I kept calling the spaces by their good old-fashioned American Atlantic City names, but they were actually named after locales around NZ. Anyway, I can't remember the last time I played a game all the way through, and don't think I ever played a game where absolutely no one was cheating. Scotty won, possessing all 32 $500s (as he announced regularly for the next couple of days).
After the game, it was time for bed, but I went by way of the stern of the ship. And there, twirling and flipping in the water by the light of the ship, was a seal. I watched him for a while, marveling at the fact that I was in New Zealand watching a seal swimming in his natural habitat. Wonders never cease. Then I went back to my cabin (shared with Emma), and sank blissfully into the amazing pillows and fell asleep.
We all managed to get into our kayaks, and were lining up for a group photot, when the inevitable happened.
I fell out of the kayak. Into the fiord. In the winter.
My first thought was "Thank God I didn't bring my camera!" Followed instantly by "GOOD LORD THIS WATER IS BLEEPING FREEZING!" However, I managed to hand my flip flops to Felix, our guide, swim back to the ship, and got back into my kayak with some dignity. Of course, I was famous on the ship for being the one who fell in, but it's all good. Actually, I had my suit on under my clothes and had fully intended to go for a dip later, but it was shocking to go in so entirely unexpected. But all part of the experience, eh?
We paddled around the bay for over an hour and it was so beautiful! We saw nesting fiordland penguins, the second rarest breed of penguin in the world, and they were so cute! One little guy was hopping around on the rocks, putting on a little show. But really, when it comes to show-offs, the seals take the cake! New Zealand Fur Seals were swimming all around us as we kayaked around. Very very cool. I headed back a little bit before everyone else in order to go for the aforementioned swim. Scotty had said he would go, too, but when I got back, he was taking a nap, so I went it alone. Well, not entirely alone. There were a lot of disbelieving onlookers on the back on the ship when I dove in. The water was about 10 degrees Celsius (roughly 52 degrees Fahrenheit). Might as well have been freezing! But it was exhilarating and it only took me a couple of hours to warm up afterwards; I warmed up with a cold shower. I looked like I had a terrible sunburn, my skin was so red from the cold. Good times.
Dinner on the ship was marvelous! Tomato and lentil soup, seafood salad, scalloped potatoes, yams, roasted veggies, salmon, satay chicken, rice pilaf, pasta, and countless desserts. It was quite an event. After dinner, we watched a slide show about the fiord, then Chelsea, Scotty, Megan and I settled in for a nice long game of Monopoly. I kept calling the spaces by their good old-fashioned American Atlantic City names, but they were actually named after locales around NZ. Anyway, I can't remember the last time I played a game all the way through, and don't think I ever played a game where absolutely no one was cheating. Scotty won, possessing all 32 $500s (as he announced regularly for the next couple of days).
After the game, it was time for bed, but I went by way of the stern of the ship. And there, twirling and flipping in the water by the light of the ship, was a seal. I watched him for a while, marveling at the fact that I was in New Zealand watching a seal swimming in his natural habitat. Wonders never cease. Then I went back to my cabin (shared with Emma), and sank blissfully into the amazing pillows and fell asleep.
Day 6 (Part I): More Mountains than you can 'magine.
Sunday, September 7th~
(*Just a heads up, this is when my journal entries started getting really verbose. I’ll try to break them up into multiple entries. There was just so much going on! Ok, keep reading now!)
BIG DAY! We kicked it off with a great hot breakfast buffet at the hotel, then hit the road. Our first stop was at Mrs. Jones’ fruit stand. There were so many delicious things! I deliberated for some time, then picked up a couple of plums to munch on. Wouldn’t you know it, I come all the way around the world and go to a real salt-of-the-earth fruit stand and wind up with plums grown in the US of A! I also had some yummy real fruit ice cream (hokey pokey ice cream with banana), which was 100% New Zealand, so that made up for it. During the drive, Chelsea and Scotty were sitting up front playing “Horse and Tractor.” The game is simple: when you see a horse or a tractor, say “horse” or “tractor” (depending on which it is, of course), and get a point. I think this is going to be the next big Motha’ Van hit.
We stopped for lunch in Te Anau, the township on the shore of the lake of the same name. I know you’re probably already getting tired of hearing it, but it was just gorgeous there! The sky was steely with clouds, but the water was bright turquoise, and framed, as ever, by the Southern Alps. As we continued on the road, we pulled over for photo opps at Eglington Valley, the Chasm, and the Mirror Lakes, each more beautiful than the other. I can’t imagine ever getting tired of the utter splendor at every turn. It is simply magnificent. I find myself fighting back tears at the sheer beauty of it. Since we were on the road all day, there was no opportunity to get to Mass this Sunday, but it is so easy to experience communion with God when you are witnessing such awesome wonders.
Our destination for the day was Milford Sound, only accessible by a long winding road through the mountains, including the Homer Tunnel. Truly a marvel; the tunnel was simply carved out of the rock and it remains roughly hewn today, some 50 years after its opening. I am ashamed to admit to my siblings that I tried to hold my breath, but it was in vain. The tunnel took several minutes to get through and Roxanne (our tour bus) could only go so fast. After we came through the tunnel, we made it to Milford Sound in no time and boarded the Milford Mariner, our accommodations for the night.
The ship was beautiful! Our group got upgraded from the normal ship the tour goes on (dorm style quads and shared bathrooms), to en suite doubles. Very swanky. Our rooms rocked, complete with portholes and super comfy beds.
A word about Milford Sound: it is not a sound. It is a fiord, the northern-most fiord in New Zealand's Fiordland, which includes 14 fiords of all different shapes and sizes. There is a story that the Maori people tell about the creation of the Fiords. (Bear with me; I might get some of the terminology wrong, so I apologize in advance). The seas were controlled by a sort of grumpy goddess who would send the waters into sudden tumult with powerful and ferocious storms. A benevolent god, the patron of the Maori people, wanted to protect them, so he picked up his shovel and dug out a fiord; it provided some protection from the winds, but he accidentally formed islands which made it dangerous for the Maori sailors. He tried again and again to dig a perfect fiord, but he found fault with each one until he dug his 14th fiord. It was wide and deep and long, but not easily seen from sea and with lots of bays to provide the sea-farers with plenty of protection from the ferocious seas.
So, we cruised around the fiord for a while, admiring the steep walls of the mountains lining the water, carved out millenia ago by countless glaciers. We moored in Harrison's Bay for the night, and lo! then the fun began!
(*Just a heads up, this is when my journal entries started getting really verbose. I’ll try to break them up into multiple entries. There was just so much going on! Ok, keep reading now!)
BIG DAY! We kicked it off with a great hot breakfast buffet at the hotel, then hit the road. Our first stop was at Mrs. Jones’ fruit stand. There were so many delicious things! I deliberated for some time, then picked up a couple of plums to munch on. Wouldn’t you know it, I come all the way around the world and go to a real salt-of-the-earth fruit stand and wind up with plums grown in the US of A! I also had some yummy real fruit ice cream (hokey pokey ice cream with banana), which was 100% New Zealand, so that made up for it. During the drive, Chelsea and Scotty were sitting up front playing “Horse and Tractor.” The game is simple: when you see a horse or a tractor, say “horse” or “tractor” (depending on which it is, of course), and get a point. I think this is going to be the next big Motha’ Van hit.
We stopped for lunch in Te Anau, the township on the shore of the lake of the same name. I know you’re probably already getting tired of hearing it, but it was just gorgeous there! The sky was steely with clouds, but the water was bright turquoise, and framed, as ever, by the Southern Alps. As we continued on the road, we pulled over for photo opps at Eglington Valley, the Chasm, and the Mirror Lakes, each more beautiful than the other. I can’t imagine ever getting tired of the utter splendor at every turn. It is simply magnificent. I find myself fighting back tears at the sheer beauty of it. Since we were on the road all day, there was no opportunity to get to Mass this Sunday, but it is so easy to experience communion with God when you are witnessing such awesome wonders.
Our destination for the day was Milford Sound, only accessible by a long winding road through the mountains, including the Homer Tunnel. Truly a marvel; the tunnel was simply carved out of the rock and it remains roughly hewn today, some 50 years after its opening. I am ashamed to admit to my siblings that I tried to hold my breath, but it was in vain. The tunnel took several minutes to get through and Roxanne (our tour bus) could only go so fast. After we came through the tunnel, we made it to Milford Sound in no time and boarded the Milford Mariner, our accommodations for the night.
The ship was beautiful! Our group got upgraded from the normal ship the tour goes on (dorm style quads and shared bathrooms), to en suite doubles. Very swanky. Our rooms rocked, complete with portholes and super comfy beds.
A word about Milford Sound: it is not a sound. It is a fiord, the northern-most fiord in New Zealand's Fiordland, which includes 14 fiords of all different shapes and sizes. There is a story that the Maori people tell about the creation of the Fiords. (Bear with me; I might get some of the terminology wrong, so I apologize in advance). The seas were controlled by a sort of grumpy goddess who would send the waters into sudden tumult with powerful and ferocious storms. A benevolent god, the patron of the Maori people, wanted to protect them, so he picked up his shovel and dug out a fiord; it provided some protection from the winds, but he accidentally formed islands which made it dangerous for the Maori sailors. He tried again and again to dig a perfect fiord, but he found fault with each one until he dug his 14th fiord. It was wide and deep and long, but not easily seen from sea and with lots of bays to provide the sea-farers with plenty of protection from the ferocious seas.
So, we cruised around the fiord for a while, admiring the steep walls of the mountains lining the water, carved out millenia ago by countless glaciers. We moored in Harrison's Bay for the night, and lo! then the fun began!
Day 5: Losing my heart to New Zealand, one day at a time
Saturday, September 6th~
What a beautiful day! Chelsea and Scotty, our tour leaders, basically rock the house. We have a small group; usually they have around 30-36, but there are only 10 of us, all girls. It’s a pretty great group. My friend Vicki (from last night’s dinner excursion) is on the tour, too, which is fun. Here’s the group: Vicki (England), Emma (Scotland), Laura H. (England), Vanesha (England), Laura B. (Northern Ireland), Debra (Northern Ireland), Laura T. (England), Megan (England), and Tracey (Adelaide, Australia). The UK has incredibly strong representation. Word up.
Today was a lot of sight-seeing, but all sights well worth seeing, I assure you. New Zealand is an unspeakably beautiful country. The Southern Alps are nothing short of spectacular. Scotty took us on a hike to see a mini-glacier. It was breathtaking (no, not because I’m out of shape. I did alright.), walking through the valley beneath the snow-topped mountains. When we got to the end of the trail, we looked out at the glacier (which was hard to distinguish because of all of the gravel heaped around it. Apparently that’s the glacial thing to do, cover yourself in gravel.). And there, towering behind it, stood Mount Cook, New Zealand’s highest peak. Truly an awesome sight.
This evening, we stayed at a hotel- quite a nice change after several days of hostel-ing it. We had a nice dinner at the hotel restaurant, followed by a couple of drinks at the adjoining bar. I quite enjoyed Speight’s Old Dark Ale. Thank God New Zealand has a handle on dark beer!
What a beautiful day! Chelsea and Scotty, our tour leaders, basically rock the house. We have a small group; usually they have around 30-36, but there are only 10 of us, all girls. It’s a pretty great group. My friend Vicki (from last night’s dinner excursion) is on the tour, too, which is fun. Here’s the group: Vicki (England), Emma (Scotland), Laura H. (England), Vanesha (England), Laura B. (Northern Ireland), Debra (Northern Ireland), Laura T. (England), Megan (England), and Tracey (Adelaide, Australia). The UK has incredibly strong representation. Word up.
Today was a lot of sight-seeing, but all sights well worth seeing, I assure you. New Zealand is an unspeakably beautiful country. The Southern Alps are nothing short of spectacular. Scotty took us on a hike to see a mini-glacier. It was breathtaking (no, not because I’m out of shape. I did alright.), walking through the valley beneath the snow-topped mountains. When we got to the end of the trail, we looked out at the glacier (which was hard to distinguish because of all of the gravel heaped around it. Apparently that’s the glacial thing to do, cover yourself in gravel.). And there, towering behind it, stood Mount Cook, New Zealand’s highest peak. Truly an awesome sight.
This evening, we stayed at a hotel- quite a nice change after several days of hostel-ing it. We had a nice dinner at the hotel restaurant, followed by a couple of drinks at the adjoining bar. I quite enjoyed Speight’s Old Dark Ale. Thank God New Zealand has a handle on dark beer!
Day 4: Look, ma, I'm in New Zealand!
Friday, September 5th~
After a 1am fire alarm at the hostel, I managed to get up and out by 6am to catch the airport shuttle. I have never had an easier time getting through security and customs, and everyone was all goodness and kindness. Happily, I was able to catch up with Shir one last time in the Duty Free shops. We were both heading to Christchurch, NZ, at the same time, but weren’t on the same flight. Bummer. But it was cool to see her again. We convinced each other that candy was an appropriate breakfast.
From a great distance, New Zealand looked to be framed by wide sandy beached. However, as we got closer and closer, those sandy beaches turned out to be the mighty snow-capped peaks of the Southern Alps. Magnificent!
Upon arrival in Christchurch, I found a shuttle, checked into my hostel, and took off to explore Cathedral Square. First, I checked out the cathedral itself. It’s an impressive building, dark grey stone rising out of a large paved square, closed off to all traffic but trams. I paid $2 to climb the tower, and it was well worth it. Well, first of all, (for those of you who aren’t aware) I kind of have a thing for spiral staircases, so I got my fix for a while. But the view was just lovely. Looking out over Cathedral Square, I watched people milling around some carts laden with wool scarves and gloves and trucks selling kebabs and chips; I watched men playing a game of chess with super large pieces on a board at least 2meters X 2meters (heh, I said meters. Embrace the metric system). I spent all of my batteries snapping shots from the heights, so I headed back to my room to charge them. On my way, I ran into a couple of girls from the shuttle and they invited me to join them on a town tram tour. It wasn’t bad; Christchurch really is a lovely town, but I don’t think the tour was worth $14.
At this point it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, but we (Marie, Vicki and I) were hungry, and opted for an early dinner. After some aimless wandering, we landed at Valentino’s. An excellent choice! We had a really nice cabernet/shiraz/merlot blend and I had an absolutely delectable lamb dish. Delicious!
After I had said goodnight to Marie and Vicki, I hit the bar connected to the hostel for a beer. There, I met Luke, a delightful Canadian from Alberta. We enjoyed some conversation over a few beers (Monteith’s Original; New Zealand beer is waaay better than Australian beer!), but by 10:15, I called it a night. Up early for the tour!
After a 1am fire alarm at the hostel, I managed to get up and out by 6am to catch the airport shuttle. I have never had an easier time getting through security and customs, and everyone was all goodness and kindness. Happily, I was able to catch up with Shir one last time in the Duty Free shops. We were both heading to Christchurch, NZ, at the same time, but weren’t on the same flight. Bummer. But it was cool to see her again. We convinced each other that candy was an appropriate breakfast.
From a great distance, New Zealand looked to be framed by wide sandy beached. However, as we got closer and closer, those sandy beaches turned out to be the mighty snow-capped peaks of the Southern Alps. Magnificent!
Upon arrival in Christchurch, I found a shuttle, checked into my hostel, and took off to explore Cathedral Square. First, I checked out the cathedral itself. It’s an impressive building, dark grey stone rising out of a large paved square, closed off to all traffic but trams. I paid $2 to climb the tower, and it was well worth it. Well, first of all, (for those of you who aren’t aware) I kind of have a thing for spiral staircases, so I got my fix for a while. But the view was just lovely. Looking out over Cathedral Square, I watched people milling around some carts laden with wool scarves and gloves and trucks selling kebabs and chips; I watched men playing a game of chess with super large pieces on a board at least 2meters X 2meters (heh, I said meters. Embrace the metric system). I spent all of my batteries snapping shots from the heights, so I headed back to my room to charge them. On my way, I ran into a couple of girls from the shuttle and they invited me to join them on a town tram tour. It wasn’t bad; Christchurch really is a lovely town, but I don’t think the tour was worth $14.
At this point it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, but we (Marie, Vicki and I) were hungry, and opted for an early dinner. After some aimless wandering, we landed at Valentino’s. An excellent choice! We had a really nice cabernet/shiraz/merlot blend and I had an absolutely delectable lamb dish. Delicious!
After I had said goodnight to Marie and Vicki, I hit the bar connected to the hostel for a beer. There, I met Luke, a delightful Canadian from Alberta. We enjoyed some conversation over a few beers (Monteith’s Original; New Zealand beer is waaay better than Australian beer!), but by 10:15, I called it a night. Up early for the tour!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Day 3: Elephants, Platypi and Germans, oh my!
Thursday, September 4th~
Today I got up early and headed to the Taronga Zoo. It was cold and gray and windy, so a lot of the animals were hiding. Who could blame them? But the Asian elephants were awesome! There was this one bull standing by the water drinking when all of a sudden he dove in! Seriously, one minute he was dry, the next he was fully submerged. I had no idea elephants were so aquatic! He would dive down, then bring his trunk up for air, lift his head above water, and dive again. Hilarious! After a couple of hours at the zoo, I felt I had seen enough and was getting tired of the field-trippers, so I ferried to Darling Harbor by way of Luna Park. I took lots of pictures (for the Cass-monster), and wandered around for a bit. It was quiet and abandoned and mildly creepy in a Scooby Doo kind of way.
I got some lunch and hit up the Aquarium. I was thrilled to finally see a platypus (cue Flobots), thrilled! They are so darn cute! I want one! The rest of the Aquarium was nice; I found Nemo, so that was cool. No dolphins, but some pretty hardcore sharks. On my way out, I got surveyed by a woman who just returned from holiday in Lancaster, PA. Small world, eh?
Walking back to the hostel from Darling Harbor, I stumbled upon Paddy’s Market. It’s a massive quagmire of stalls and vendors, all of them aggressively peddling their goods and services to the passers-by. It reminded me a lot of the market in San Salvador, but with slightly better English. I wandered around for ages, talking my way out of countless massage offers (I know, sad), admiring the massive quantity of Aussie emporia, and marveling at the number of stands selling weaves. I bought some lively colored socks and continued on my way.
Back at the hostel, I repacked my bags and headed out to reception to see if anything was going on. Turns out it was burger night! For five bucks, I grabbed a kangaroo burger and an Australian beer (that is to say watery crap), so that was cool. I flew solo all day, and I gotta say, I like making friends better.
Tonight, I found myself in the company of Germans. I was just about to go to bed, when two of my roommates asked me to hang out with them to help them with their English. In exchange for a bowl of pasta, I taught them words like “condiments”. Turns out, the whole place was crawling with Germans! They were joking about how there are so many travelling in Australia, and I quizzed them on the best places to visit in Germany. It was quite a pleasant way to spend an evening, but I had to get to bed early. New Zealand tomorrow!
Today I got up early and headed to the Taronga Zoo. It was cold and gray and windy, so a lot of the animals were hiding. Who could blame them? But the Asian elephants were awesome! There was this one bull standing by the water drinking when all of a sudden he dove in! Seriously, one minute he was dry, the next he was fully submerged. I had no idea elephants were so aquatic! He would dive down, then bring his trunk up for air, lift his head above water, and dive again. Hilarious! After a couple of hours at the zoo, I felt I had seen enough and was getting tired of the field-trippers, so I ferried to Darling Harbor by way of Luna Park. I took lots of pictures (for the Cass-monster), and wandered around for a bit. It was quiet and abandoned and mildly creepy in a Scooby Doo kind of way.
I got some lunch and hit up the Aquarium. I was thrilled to finally see a platypus (cue Flobots), thrilled! They are so darn cute! I want one! The rest of the Aquarium was nice; I found Nemo, so that was cool. No dolphins, but some pretty hardcore sharks. On my way out, I got surveyed by a woman who just returned from holiday in Lancaster, PA. Small world, eh?
Walking back to the hostel from Darling Harbor, I stumbled upon Paddy’s Market. It’s a massive quagmire of stalls and vendors, all of them aggressively peddling their goods and services to the passers-by. It reminded me a lot of the market in San Salvador, but with slightly better English. I wandered around for ages, talking my way out of countless massage offers (I know, sad), admiring the massive quantity of Aussie emporia, and marveling at the number of stands selling weaves. I bought some lively colored socks and continued on my way.
Back at the hostel, I repacked my bags and headed out to reception to see if anything was going on. Turns out it was burger night! For five bucks, I grabbed a kangaroo burger and an Australian beer (that is to say watery crap), so that was cool. I flew solo all day, and I gotta say, I like making friends better.
Tonight, I found myself in the company of Germans. I was just about to go to bed, when two of my roommates asked me to hang out with them to help them with their English. In exchange for a bowl of pasta, I taught them words like “condiments”. Turns out, the whole place was crawling with Germans! They were joking about how there are so many travelling in Australia, and I quizzed them on the best places to visit in Germany. It was quite a pleasant way to spend an evening, but I had to get to bed early. New Zealand tomorrow!
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Night at the Opera
I had a really good seat at the opera. 9 rows back, maybe 10 seats from the center. As for the opera itself… well… Like I said, it was Mozart’s Don Giovanni, which is really an excellent opera. However, the director took a kind of modern approach which just didn’t sit well with me. The costumes were kind of wonky late-20th century, and the sets were super abstract, mainly orange and black. Leperello was a bum and Don Giovanni was wearing sweats and constantly doing blow. Zerlina was portrayed as, well, a slut really, with none of the innocence that I’ve always thought was the crux of the character. The director made choices, but I just didn’t feel that they synergized with the music and libretto. The cast was pretty phenomenal, vocally, but I couldn’t help but feeling that they were inhibited by the staging. Musetto was pretty forgettable. Everyone’s movements and characterization was pretty blah, no snap, no sharpness in their decisions on stage. Perhaps they were tired; it was nearly the end of the run. And when I closed my eyes, I found it to be a highly enjoyable experience.
I was sitting next to Beta (sp?) from Milan, Italy, which was a lot of fun. She’s been to two different operas at La Scalla, which is pretty cool. Don Giovanni is her favorite opera and she really enjoyed it, so I guess it just depends on your taste.
I got a cab home. The shoes were a painfully unfortunate choice.
*Update: As I pondered this post today, folding laundry, something else occurred to me. The whole production was kind of dragged into a modern setting, but Don Giovanni still killed Il Commendatore with a sword in the opening scene. A sword? If they were changing everything else, why not change that? Why not kill him with a hypodermic syringe or something? Yeah, I just didn’t like it. I think I would have preferred a much more traditional approach to the material. Call me old-fashioned!
I was sitting next to Beta (sp?) from Milan, Italy, which was a lot of fun. She’s been to two different operas at La Scalla, which is pretty cool. Don Giovanni is her favorite opera and she really enjoyed it, so I guess it just depends on your taste.
I got a cab home. The shoes were a painfully unfortunate choice.
*Update: As I pondered this post today, folding laundry, something else occurred to me. The whole production was kind of dragged into a modern setting, but Don Giovanni still killed Il Commendatore with a sword in the opening scene. A sword? If they were changing everything else, why not change that? Why not kill him with a hypodermic syringe or something? Yeah, I just didn’t like it. I think I would have preferred a much more traditional approach to the material. Call me old-fashioned!
Day 2: beautiful beaches, fun ferries, and o-some opera houses
Wednesday, September 3rd~
This morning, I took off walking down George St. in Sydney. I thought I was heading to Darling Harbor, glimpsed the Sydney Opera House and realized I was at Circular Quay (pronounced “Key”). What a pleasant surprise! I was going to hop on a ferry to get to my intended destination, but a friendly ticket salesman recommended I check out Manly. It was $12 for the roundtrip, so I coughed up four extra bucks and got myself a daytripper pass- unlimited ferry, bus and train rides. An excellent investment. The ferry ride to Manly was great! I made friends (Loren and Byron from Cali) and had great views of the opera house and coast line. Some pleasant conversation led us to realize that all three of us were attending the same opera that evening. Plans were made to meet for dinner. When I got to Manly, a pleasant visitor’s info guy gave me a map and pointed me in the direction of the Corso. The Corso turned out to be a wide pedestrian mall, lined with palm trees and cafes, that ended at Manly Beach. Beautiful! Cerulean waters framed by pale yellow sand and unusual rocks (under which I was tempted to drink tea). I followed a path along the coastline to Shelly Beach, smaller than Manly Beach and tucked back in the trees, but no less beautiful. After a spell, I walked back to the wharf and recommenced my ferrying to get to Darling Harbor to meet Shir. We ate at the I’m Angus Steakhouse, and Shir taught me various Hebrew words and phrases. It was a lovely lunch, and she got to try kangaroo for the first time, which she really really enjoyed. I left her around mid-afternoon to go and get ready for the opera.
Dressed to the 9s (well, at least 7.5s), I arrived at my rendezvous uncharacteristically early for my dinner date with Loren and Byron, so I decided to have a glass of wine while I waited, the Deakin Brut if I’m not mistaken. Delightful. I was feeling decadent. I went and met the guys and we found a restaurant that wasn’t too astronomically expensive on the walk to the opera house. Dinner was lovely (butter chicken… mmm, curry), but man! They kill you on those drinks! I had two and they probably cost twice as much as my dinner! Oh well, city living. During dinner, the guys told me all about their recent trip to Thailand. Sounds like a really cool place to go. Some day. Afterwards, I headed off to the opera house and the guys went in search of ice cream. We never did catch up again, but it was nice meeting them.
Stay tuned for my review of the Sydney Opera House 2008 production of Mozart's Don Giovanni.
This morning, I took off walking down George St. in Sydney. I thought I was heading to Darling Harbor, glimpsed the Sydney Opera House and realized I was at Circular Quay (pronounced “Key”). What a pleasant surprise! I was going to hop on a ferry to get to my intended destination, but a friendly ticket salesman recommended I check out Manly. It was $12 for the roundtrip, so I coughed up four extra bucks and got myself a daytripper pass- unlimited ferry, bus and train rides. An excellent investment. The ferry ride to Manly was great! I made friends (Loren and Byron from Cali) and had great views of the opera house and coast line. Some pleasant conversation led us to realize that all three of us were attending the same opera that evening. Plans were made to meet for dinner. When I got to Manly, a pleasant visitor’s info guy gave me a map and pointed me in the direction of the Corso. The Corso turned out to be a wide pedestrian mall, lined with palm trees and cafes, that ended at Manly Beach. Beautiful! Cerulean waters framed by pale yellow sand and unusual rocks (under which I was tempted to drink tea). I followed a path along the coastline to Shelly Beach, smaller than Manly Beach and tucked back in the trees, but no less beautiful. After a spell, I walked back to the wharf and recommenced my ferrying to get to Darling Harbor to meet Shir. We ate at the I’m Angus Steakhouse, and Shir taught me various Hebrew words and phrases. It was a lovely lunch, and she got to try kangaroo for the first time, which she really really enjoyed. I left her around mid-afternoon to go and get ready for the opera.
Dressed to the 9s (well, at least 7.5s), I arrived at my rendezvous uncharacteristically early for my dinner date with Loren and Byron, so I decided to have a glass of wine while I waited, the Deakin Brut if I’m not mistaken. Delightful. I was feeling decadent. I went and met the guys and we found a restaurant that wasn’t too astronomically expensive on the walk to the opera house. Dinner was lovely (butter chicken… mmm, curry), but man! They kill you on those drinks! I had two and they probably cost twice as much as my dinner! Oh well, city living. During dinner, the guys told me all about their recent trip to Thailand. Sounds like a really cool place to go. Some day. Afterwards, I headed off to the opera house and the guys went in search of ice cream. We never did catch up again, but it was nice meeting them.
Stay tuned for my review of the Sydney Opera House 2008 production of Mozart's Don Giovanni.
Day 1: leaving the red centre
Tuesday, September 2nd~
Holiday! Today began the great adventure! Three days in Sydney plus a 7 day tour of New Zealand’s South Island and I am ready for it! Alison’s mom, Dorothy, kindly dropped me off at the airport, and I made it to Sydney with no incident. I hopped on a train, headed down town, found my hostel, and got settled in. At this point it was around 6:30, so I took off in search of food. Railway Square YHA is right on the brink of China Town, so I wandered past countless Asian restaurants, nothing really appealing to me. So I did what any girl would do all alone in the big city with nothing to eat. I went and saw Hellboy II. It was a funtime. After the movie, I still needed something to eat, so I hoofed it to a café at another youth hostel to get a bite to eat. I was sitting there, all by my lonesome, catty-corner from a girl who was sitting there all by her lonesome. I commented on how it sucks to eat alone, and she graciously invited me to join her! Shir was an absolutely delightful girl from Israel who had been traveling around Australia for some time now. We ate dinner and dessert and then got a drink at the adjoining bar (Scubar, I believe. Check it out if you’re in Sydney). It was so nice to have a friend! As it got later, we made plans to meet for lunch the next day, and I walked back to my hostel.
A quick word about my hostel: The Railway Square YHA is located walking distance from everything worth seeing in Sydney, which is convenient. What makes it really fun is that I slept in a converted train car. It was fun and cute. I felt like a boxcar kid. But, you know, not as cool.
Holiday! Today began the great adventure! Three days in Sydney plus a 7 day tour of New Zealand’s South Island and I am ready for it! Alison’s mom, Dorothy, kindly dropped me off at the airport, and I made it to Sydney with no incident. I hopped on a train, headed down town, found my hostel, and got settled in. At this point it was around 6:30, so I took off in search of food. Railway Square YHA is right on the brink of China Town, so I wandered past countless Asian restaurants, nothing really appealing to me. So I did what any girl would do all alone in the big city with nothing to eat. I went and saw Hellboy II. It was a funtime. After the movie, I still needed something to eat, so I hoofed it to a café at another youth hostel to get a bite to eat. I was sitting there, all by my lonesome, catty-corner from a girl who was sitting there all by her lonesome. I commented on how it sucks to eat alone, and she graciously invited me to join her! Shir was an absolutely delightful girl from Israel who had been traveling around Australia for some time now. We ate dinner and dessert and then got a drink at the adjoining bar (Scubar, I believe. Check it out if you’re in Sydney). It was so nice to have a friend! As it got later, we made plans to meet for lunch the next day, and I walked back to my hostel.
A quick word about my hostel: The Railway Square YHA is located walking distance from everything worth seeing in Sydney, which is convenient. What makes it really fun is that I slept in a converted train car. It was fun and cute. I felt like a boxcar kid. But, you know, not as cool.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Teaser Entry
Friends! I have returned! I took so many pictures and journaled diligently throughout the entire trip so that I could share everything with you in excrutiating detail. Of course, first I have to decipher my chicken scratch and type it all up (grumble grumble), so as a sign of good will, I present you with these pictures from my trip. I promise, I took all of them, they're not some lame-o internet downloads. This here's the real McCoy, ladies and gents. More to come! I promise!
A sheep station framed by the grand Southern Alps.
Sydney Opera House (of course)
Mount Cook, the tallest peak in New Zealand, on the shores of Lake Pukaki.
Fox Glacier
A sheep station framed by the grand Southern Alps.
Stay tuned!
Monday, September 1, 2008
Oh! the anticipation
Since I came to the Alice 7 and a half weeks ago, I have been trying to really experience it. I hope that my blog entries have reflected that. In fact, I haven't been beyond the ranges that overshadow our backyard since Uncle Tim picked me up from the airport all those weeks ago.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, it is time to journey beyond the MacDonnell Ranges. Indeed, it is time to seek adventure outside of the Red Centre. Tomorrow, I depart for my great adventure to Sydney and then to New Zealand's South Island.
I don't know what the next couple of weeks hold in store, but I assure you, my faithful readers, that I will attack every day with the same zeal that I have shown these past weeks in the Territ'ry. With God as my witness, I am going to make the most of every day!
There have been times since the undertaking of this blog when I have felt I wasn't quite up to par with regular posting. Granted, I always said that I would shoot for updating at least once a week, and I have certainly surpassed that goal thus far, but I suppose one would always hope for more. Well, in the next two weeks, I don't know what my internet access will be like, and updates may become even more irregular. I apologize and beg for your patience on the understanding that, as soon as I return, I will regale you with tales of such excitement and wonder! Does that sound alright?
In the mean time, I put all of my pictures into a Picasa album:
They're not organized or caption-ized or anything, but some of them are quite pretty to look at regardless. I'll clean up the album when I get back.
Peace.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, it is time to journey beyond the MacDonnell Ranges. Indeed, it is time to seek adventure outside of the Red Centre. Tomorrow, I depart for my great adventure to Sydney and then to New Zealand's South Island.
I don't know what the next couple of weeks hold in store, but I assure you, my faithful readers, that I will attack every day with the same zeal that I have shown these past weeks in the Territ'ry. With God as my witness, I am going to make the most of every day!
There have been times since the undertaking of this blog when I have felt I wasn't quite up to par with regular posting. Granted, I always said that I would shoot for updating at least once a week, and I have certainly surpassed that goal thus far, but I suppose one would always hope for more. Well, in the next two weeks, I don't know what my internet access will be like, and updates may become even more irregular. I apologize and beg for your patience on the understanding that, as soon as I return, I will regale you with tales of such excitement and wonder! Does that sound alright?
In the mean time, I put all of my pictures into a Picasa album:
They're not organized or caption-ized or anything, but some of them are quite pretty to look at regardless. I'll clean up the album when I get back.
Peace.
What do you do with a river without any water?
I have mentioned the Todd River before; it is a long and wide and dry river bed that cuts through The Alice. You can't miss it, really. It is water-less almost all of the time, filling only after some really determined rain.
So naturally, what better place to have a regatta?
The Henley-on-Todd Regatta is an event so distinctly Alice Springs, it really just wouldn't fly (or float?) anywhere else in the world. Lucky for me, I left the hotel early enough on Saturday in order to see the bulk of the event.
Basically, the afternoon was filled with all different kinds of boating events, and teams and individuals compete with their "boats." The boats are basically metal frames roughly suggesting a boat, draped with banners and carried by the crew. Some of them are relatively tame, like the kayaking, which is the smallest boat manned by one person each and amounts to just a really awkward foot race. But you haven't seen awkward 'til you see the rowing Eights. Eight people stand in the frame of the boat in single file and hurl themselves along the river bed as fast as their feet can carry them; all well and good until someone in the middle wipes out and the people in the front don't stop and every one gets dragged into the coarse Todd sand... such good times. Another good one is the "Maxi-Yacht", which is teams of 8-10 carrying a considerably wider boat, but still hurdling along the same sandy expanse of river. There were some pretty spectacular collisions at the turning buoy in that one. And then there's the bathtub derby: 4 people carry a bathtub with someone in it up and down the arena (the two smart teams put a kid in theirs; the third team collapsed, including the adult in the tub).
The big end event is an all out naval battle, pitting three tricked out boat-trucks against each other. The weapons include hoses, water and flour bombs and flour cannons, and they all just chase each other around the river bed until the time is up. The winner is decided by applause, and you'll be happy to know that the pirates in their ship "The Nauteus" totally won. Apparently, it's the first time in recent memory that the Vikings haven't won. Which is cool. Because the vikings were wankers.
So this event has been happening for 47 years now. Only once has it been cancelled... due to water in the river.
Unbelievable.
(check out my pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030328&l=7838a&id=173701181)
So naturally, what better place to have a regatta?
The Henley-on-Todd Regatta is an event so distinctly Alice Springs, it really just wouldn't fly (or float?) anywhere else in the world. Lucky for me, I left the hotel early enough on Saturday in order to see the bulk of the event.
Basically, the afternoon was filled with all different kinds of boating events, and teams and individuals compete with their "boats." The boats are basically metal frames roughly suggesting a boat, draped with banners and carried by the crew. Some of them are relatively tame, like the kayaking, which is the smallest boat manned by one person each and amounts to just a really awkward foot race. But you haven't seen awkward 'til you see the rowing Eights. Eight people stand in the frame of the boat in single file and hurl themselves along the river bed as fast as their feet can carry them; all well and good until someone in the middle wipes out and the people in the front don't stop and every one gets dragged into the coarse Todd sand... such good times. Another good one is the "Maxi-Yacht", which is teams of 8-10 carrying a considerably wider boat, but still hurdling along the same sandy expanse of river. There were some pretty spectacular collisions at the turning buoy in that one. And then there's the bathtub derby: 4 people carry a bathtub with someone in it up and down the arena (the two smart teams put a kid in theirs; the third team collapsed, including the adult in the tub).
The big end event is an all out naval battle, pitting three tricked out boat-trucks against each other. The weapons include hoses, water and flour bombs and flour cannons, and they all just chase each other around the river bed until the time is up. The winner is decided by applause, and you'll be happy to know that the pirates in their ship "The Nauteus" totally won. Apparently, it's the first time in recent memory that the Vikings haven't won. Which is cool. Because the vikings were wankers.
So this event has been happening for 47 years now. Only once has it been cancelled... due to water in the river.
Unbelievable.
(check out my pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030328&l=7838a&id=173701181)
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Ooh, and it makes me wonder
I think I mentioned the music they play at the steakhouse I work at before. It's kind of kitschy outback stuff, like "Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport" and "Home Among the Gum Trees" (those particular songs make up the diner-participation aspect of your dining experience.) But there is a true gem on the CD.
There is an outback/bush/folk version of the Led Zeppelin classic "Stairway to Heaven." Complete with wobble-boards.
It always puts a smile on my face.
There is an outback/bush/folk version of the Led Zeppelin classic "Stairway to Heaven." Complete with wobble-boards.
It always puts a smile on my face.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Yield in the name of love
A funny thing about driving in Alice:
There are only a handful of stop signs in the whole town. Seriously, I have only actually had to stop at maybe 2 intersections in the past 6 weeks of driving around. Instead, most intersections have yield signs, only they don't say yield. Yes, they have the familiar triangular shape and lively red outline, but instead the say "Give Way." I suppose this is still perfectly descriptive of what you should do, but it is not the only time I have thought that Australians tend to use more words than necessary to communicate a point. Darned if I can think of another example right now, but you will have to trust me on this. Australia can be verbose.
A side-effect of this culture of Giving Way is that you actually have to pay attention at all intersections. Like, to the max. Rolling through an intersection is perfectly acceptable because all of the intersections have bloody yield signs! I've narrowly avoided being broad-sided a couple of times now.
Even though I've been here for a while, I still get confused a little bit about the direction of traffic, especially at intersections and when crossing the road on foot. First of all, it is hard to wrap your head around right and left turns being opposite from the States. (Left turns are the tight ones and right turns are the wide ones.) Secondly, when crossing the street, I have a really hard time figuring out which direction to look for traffic. Back home, you look left to see the traffic in the lane closest to you, and then look right to see traffic coming from the other direction. Not so Down Under. More than once I have stepped into the road convinced that there was no traffic, only to here some vehicle or another approaching from behind me. Very disconcerting. But it's all part of the experience, eh?
There are only a handful of stop signs in the whole town. Seriously, I have only actually had to stop at maybe 2 intersections in the past 6 weeks of driving around. Instead, most intersections have yield signs, only they don't say yield. Yes, they have the familiar triangular shape and lively red outline, but instead the say "Give Way." I suppose this is still perfectly descriptive of what you should do, but it is not the only time I have thought that Australians tend to use more words than necessary to communicate a point. Darned if I can think of another example right now, but you will have to trust me on this. Australia can be verbose.
A side-effect of this culture of Giving Way is that you actually have to pay attention at all intersections. Like, to the max. Rolling through an intersection is perfectly acceptable because all of the intersections have bloody yield signs! I've narrowly avoided being broad-sided a couple of times now.
Even though I've been here for a while, I still get confused a little bit about the direction of traffic, especially at intersections and when crossing the road on foot. First of all, it is hard to wrap your head around right and left turns being opposite from the States. (Left turns are the tight ones and right turns are the wide ones.) Secondly, when crossing the street, I have a really hard time figuring out which direction to look for traffic. Back home, you look left to see the traffic in the lane closest to you, and then look right to see traffic coming from the other direction. Not so Down Under. More than once I have stepped into the road convinced that there was no traffic, only to here some vehicle or another approaching from behind me. Very disconcerting. But it's all part of the experience, eh?
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Where everybody knows your name
"Thank you!"
~"You're welcome!"
A fairly basic exchange, neat, tidy, familiar. We are taught these phrases from the earliest possible age, and as children, we would rattle them off at the slightest twitch from a parents eyebrow. As we grow older, we become more adventurous with the tested, tried and true phrases. "Thank you" might be abbreviated to simply "thanks." "You're welcome" goes through any number of transformations: "No problem," "my pleasure," "don't worry about it," "any time," or even the locally ubiquitous "no worries." There are many more, I am sure, but you get the idea.
The point is that the function of "thank you" and "you're welcome" are familiar and comfortable.
So, when I put down a plate of food at the steakhouse, how am I supposed to respond to "Cheers"? It's not quite "thanks," but I think that they are expressing gratitude. Should I say "You're welcome"? Or would that be assuming too much? If someone said "Hello", you wouldn't necessarily reply with "Fine, you?" because, thought the person might very well inquire after your health, you don't want to anticipate them too much.
This is my quandary. People say it all the time and I never know how to respond!
Even more befuddling is the equally over-used "Ta." Just two letters and I am supposed to glean it's meaning from what, the inflection? That's not much to go on!
"Ta."
~"And ta to you as well, sir!"
I'll keep working on this one.
~"You're welcome!"
A fairly basic exchange, neat, tidy, familiar. We are taught these phrases from the earliest possible age, and as children, we would rattle them off at the slightest twitch from a parents eyebrow. As we grow older, we become more adventurous with the tested, tried and true phrases. "Thank you" might be abbreviated to simply "thanks." "You're welcome" goes through any number of transformations: "No problem," "my pleasure," "don't worry about it," "any time," or even the locally ubiquitous "no worries." There are many more, I am sure, but you get the idea.
The point is that the function of "thank you" and "you're welcome" are familiar and comfortable.
So, when I put down a plate of food at the steakhouse, how am I supposed to respond to "Cheers"? It's not quite "thanks," but I think that they are expressing gratitude. Should I say "You're welcome"? Or would that be assuming too much? If someone said "Hello", you wouldn't necessarily reply with "Fine, you?" because, thought the person might very well inquire after your health, you don't want to anticipate them too much.
This is my quandary. People say it all the time and I never know how to respond!
Even more befuddling is the equally over-used "Ta." Just two letters and I am supposed to glean it's meaning from what, the inflection? That's not much to go on!
"Ta."
~"And ta to you as well, sir!"
I'll keep working on this one.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Riding around in my automobile
While it is terribly exciting that I am going to be travelling around Greater Australia and, in only two weeks, New Zealand, it is becoming ever more apparent that there is a lot to see and do around the Alice. On a recent day off, I got in Toby-car and just started driving around, taking roads I hadn't yet taken and venturing out of the city limits. Every time I passed a sign for a roadside attraction, I slammed on my brakes and skidded into the parking area. It was fantastic! Totally the way to travel!
My first stop was at the grave of John Flynn. Now, when I stopped, I had no idea who John Flynn was, but given the size of the sign, I figured he had to be someone important. What an incredible man! A religious minister and doctor, he saw that there was serious need in the remote stretches of the Outback for healthcare and communication, and single-handedly started reaching out to all of the people who lived "out bush" as they call it. What began as one man's ministry grew into the Royal Flying Doctors Service, an internationally renowned and ve
ry active program that gives care to remote inhabitants and, if necessary, provides transportation for those people to get to a hospital. You cannot concieve how big the outback is until you're here. Actually, I am here and I still can't wrap my head around it. Thousands and thousands of square miles of desert fill the interior of Australia and you might be more than a 20 hour drive from the nearest city and hospital. Crazy. John Flynn made incredible strides in connecting the interior of Australia. Quite remarkable.
My next stop was at the highest point on the Stuart Highway. That might sound boring, but not when you consider that the highway runs the entire height of the country, from Adelaide straight up to Darwin, around 3000 kilometres, I believe. It's especially hard to believe that it's the highest point when you look around and all you can see is flat desert except for the soaring MacDonnell Ranges to the south. But there was a sign that proved it, and a weird lookin' kind of monument, so I'll trust their word.
The next attraction was one that I was actually on the lookout for. Ladies and gentlemen, I stood on the Tropic of Capricorn! How cool is that? Aside from the fact that I myself am a Capricorn, it really put in perspective how far away I am from home. And how close I am to the tropics. It was a pretty special moment. And Australia really knows how to do weird lookin' monuments, eh?
My last stop for the day was the Warburton Memorial. Another weird one. This one is in memory of a Mr. Peter Egerton-Warburton, who, with his plucky family, travelled across the nigh on endless desert from 100 kilometres north of Alice Springs to Roebourne in West Australia, from April 18, 1873 to January 26, 1874. Well done there!
My first stop was at the grave of John Flynn. Now, when I stopped, I had no idea who John Flynn was, but given the size of the sign, I figured he had to be someone important. What an incredible man! A religious minister and doctor, he saw that there was serious need in the remote stretches of the Outback for healthcare and communication, and single-handedly started reaching out to all of the people who lived "out bush" as they call it. What began as one man's ministry grew into the Royal Flying Doctors Service, an internationally renowned and ve
ry active program that gives care to remote inhabitants and, if necessary, provides transportation for those people to get to a hospital. You cannot concieve how big the outback is until you're here. Actually, I am here and I still can't wrap my head around it. Thousands and thousands of square miles of desert fill the interior of Australia and you might be more than a 20 hour drive from the nearest city and hospital. Crazy. John Flynn made incredible strides in connecting the interior of Australia. Quite remarkable.
My next stop was at the highest point on the Stuart Highway. That might sound boring, but not when you consider that the highway runs the entire height of the country, from Adelaide straight up to Darwin, around 3000 kilometres, I believe. It's especially hard to believe that it's the highest point when you look around and all you can see is flat desert except for the soaring MacDonnell Ranges to the south. But there was a sign that proved it, and a weird lookin' kind of monument, so I'll trust their word.
The next attraction was one that I was actually on the lookout for. Ladies and gentlemen, I stood on the Tropic of Capricorn! How cool is that? Aside from the fact that I myself am a Capricorn, it really put in perspective how far away I am from home. And how close I am to the tropics. It was a pretty special moment. And Australia really knows how to do weird lookin' monuments, eh?
My last stop for the day was the Warburton Memorial. Another weird one. This one is in memory of a Mr. Peter Egerton-Warburton, who, with his plucky family, travelled across the nigh on endless desert from 100 kilometres north of Alice Springs to Roebourne in West Australia, from April 18, 1873 to January 26, 1874. Well done there!So the moral of the story is, when you're driving around the Red Centre, make sure you stop and check stuff out! It's a pretty cool place.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Dreaming of Rain
I have always loved the rain. I love the sound that it makes on the trees outside my bedroom window in Mohnton, I love the music it elicits as it hits the surface of Lake Champlain, I love the smell of the atmosphere when it is bursting with promised precipitation, and I love the sight of fat Carolina raindrops dripping from the crepe myrtle surrounding the front porch.
They say you don't know how much you appreciate something until you don't have it. Well, I find that it is possible to truly appreciate something, but that makes the loss all the more jarring.
I have not seen a drop of rain in over a month.
And this is only the beginning of my stay in the arid Red Center.
For a week or so, we've seen some pretty promising clouds roll in, but every day is as dry as the days before, as dry as the days to come.
So I dream about rain.
The first dream was shortly after I arrived. I dreamt that I was inside a house, in a basement or something, and I heard rain pattering on the road outside. I struggled to find my way out of the house, listening to the growing crescendo of pounding rain and crashing thunder. I wanted to get outside so badly, but I couldn't find my way. I would catch glimpses out of windows of the glorious precipitation, but they were just flashes. When I finally got to a door, I opened it and the storm ceased instantly. No more thunder, no more rain, just steam rising from the road and a couple of lazy puddles.
The next dream came shortly after my first visit to the Claypans. The rain in this dream was gentle and caressing, and the water made the clay extra slippery and the kids were all laughing and sliding around in the mud, tilting their faces towards the sky and catching rain drops in their open mouths.
Now, most of my dreams have rain somewhere in them, in the background. Streaming down the window, forming puddles for me to step over, filling the dry Todd River bed, dancing around on the windshield as I drive somewhere, but always with the surreal quality of dreaming.
And every morning, I look outside and the world is as dry as the last time I looked at it.
I am grateful for the dreams, but I long for rain.
They say you don't know how much you appreciate something until you don't have it. Well, I find that it is possible to truly appreciate something, but that makes the loss all the more jarring.
I have not seen a drop of rain in over a month.
And this is only the beginning of my stay in the arid Red Center.
For a week or so, we've seen some pretty promising clouds roll in, but every day is as dry as the days before, as dry as the days to come.
So I dream about rain.
The first dream was shortly after I arrived. I dreamt that I was inside a house, in a basement or something, and I heard rain pattering on the road outside. I struggled to find my way out of the house, listening to the growing crescendo of pounding rain and crashing thunder. I wanted to get outside so badly, but I couldn't find my way. I would catch glimpses out of windows of the glorious precipitation, but they were just flashes. When I finally got to a door, I opened it and the storm ceased instantly. No more thunder, no more rain, just steam rising from the road and a couple of lazy puddles.
The next dream came shortly after my first visit to the Claypans. The rain in this dream was gentle and caressing, and the water made the clay extra slippery and the kids were all laughing and sliding around in the mud, tilting their faces towards the sky and catching rain drops in their open mouths.
Now, most of my dreams have rain somewhere in them, in the background. Streaming down the window, forming puddles for me to step over, filling the dry Todd River bed, dancing around on the windshield as I drive somewhere, but always with the surreal quality of dreaming.
And every morning, I look outside and the world is as dry as the last time I looked at it.
I am grateful for the dreams, but I long for rain.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Fam-damily!
One of the really cool things about this whole Australian Adventure is that I get to hang out with my awesome family. (Or rather, more of my awesome family, for I have quite a stash of awesome family back in the States, as many of you are aware.) Uncle Tim came to Alice Springs some 8 years ago, met and married Aunt Alison, and now they have a wonderful family of their own. The whole reason I opted to come to Australia and, specifically, the Alice Springs area, was to see this wing of the family, to get to know the ones that I had met (Aunt Alison, her three older kids Josh, Hilary and Imogen, and Tim and Alison's son Liam), to meet the ones that I hadn't met (the two youngest, Zoe and Hughen), and to hang out with Uncle Timmy.
The prospect of a free place to staying was also alluring, but far less so, I assure you.
Now, I have no idea who (if anyone) reads this blog, but I know there's a solid shot that some of you are related to me and are curious to see these beautiful people, too! So here are some pictures from some of our adventures thus far. Enjoy!
Typical Josh, texting on a hiking trip. Teenagers, bah!
The ever incorrigible Immie insisted on climbing all over the rocks at Traphina Gorge, despite her broken leg.
Alison and Timmy all dressed up for the ball.
Liam, Hughen and Zoe getting ready for bed while Mummy and Daddy are out at the ball.
Hilary and Zoe sleeping in the Jeep on the way back from hiking.
The prospect of a free place to staying was also alluring, but far less so, I assure you.
Now, I have no idea who (if anyone) reads this blog, but I know there's a solid shot that some of you are related to me and are curious to see these beautiful people, too! So here are some pictures from some of our adventures thus far. Enjoy!
Typical Josh, texting on a hiking trip. Teenagers, bah!
The ever incorrigible Immie insisted on climbing all over the rocks at Traphina Gorge, despite her broken leg.
Alison and Timmy all dressed up for the ball. 
Liam, Hughen and Zoe getting ready for bed while Mummy and Daddy are out at the ball.
Hilary and Zoe sleeping in the Jeep on the way back from hiking.
My amazing aunt the dentist is using her dental drill to cut tiles for the bathroom. Unbelievable. And the bathroom turned out quite nicely, too.
I have so many pictures from this trip! I am working on getting them posted, and once I do, I will post links for you to peruse. In the mean time, I hope this helps to tide you over!
Peace.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
A little idle talk of this and that
Life continues to go well here in the Alice. Today was a pretty long day at the hotel. I worked a 9.5 hour shift in laundry, surrounded by mountains upon mountains of white bed sheets. I felt rather like Mr. Bumble and kept expecting to find Little Orphan Annie buried at the bottom of one of the linen carts trying to make an escape from Miss Hanigans.
In related news, I spent a lot of today impersonating Carol Burnett.
I have been watching a lot of the Olympics lately. Who hasn't, right? But let me tell you, it is a lot and a lot of fun watching them in a different country. First of all, it increases the number of countries I get to cheer for; clearly, I am routing for the good ol' US of A, and I am exceedingly proud of Canadians and Mexicans when they do well, too. Continents gots to stick together, friends! But I have developed a sincere devotion to Australia in the games, as well. It's probably due to the fact that all of the coverage I'm watching is heavily biased towards Australians, but it's still fun to get behind the country that I'm living in. Right now, for example, I'm watching a men's rowing event and both the US and the Aussies are in this heat, and I am cheering for both. (Update: the Aussies placed 2nd. Go team!) I guess if I had to pick just one, it would be the States, and I am 100% behind Michael Phelps, but I do love me some Aussies! And I have a big ol' friend-crush on Stephanie Rice.
We have 4 channels at this house. Considering how few there are, it's amazing how much time I can waste flipping through them.
I have yet to determine what is "Australian for beer", but I am quite partial to Toohey's Black Ale.
Unrelated to Australia, I finished readin Pride and Prejudice last night for the umpteenth time, and I still cry at Darcy's second proposal. Every time.
I miss everyone terribly, but I'm still haing a blast! More stories to come!
Peace.
In related news, I spent a lot of today impersonating Carol Burnett.
I have been watching a lot of the Olympics lately. Who hasn't, right? But let me tell you, it is a lot and a lot of fun watching them in a different country. First of all, it increases the number of countries I get to cheer for; clearly, I am routing for the good ol' US of A, and I am exceedingly proud of Canadians and Mexicans when they do well, too. Continents gots to stick together, friends! But I have developed a sincere devotion to Australia in the games, as well. It's probably due to the fact that all of the coverage I'm watching is heavily biased towards Australians, but it's still fun to get behind the country that I'm living in. Right now, for example, I'm watching a men's rowing event and both the US and the Aussies are in this heat, and I am cheering for both. (Update: the Aussies placed 2nd. Go team!) I guess if I had to pick just one, it would be the States, and I am 100% behind Michael Phelps, but I do love me some Aussies! And I have a big ol' friend-crush on Stephanie Rice.
We have 4 channels at this house. Considering how few there are, it's amazing how much time I can waste flipping through them.
I have yet to determine what is "Australian for beer", but I am quite partial to Toohey's Black Ale.
Unrelated to Australia, I finished readin Pride and Prejudice last night for the umpteenth time, and I still cry at Darcy's second proposal. Every time.
I miss everyone terribly, but I'm still haing a blast! More stories to come!
Peace.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
To market, to market
Every other Sunday, or every "fortnight" as they say around here, there is a big market at the Todd Mall (a pedestrian street in Alice). It is super super fun and everyone comes out for it. There are stands lining the street selling all assortments of jewelry, hats, jumpers (Australian for sweater), and art. A lot of the wares are hand-made by local artisans and are distinctly central Australian, using materials that are found in the Northern Territory (or "Territ'ry" as it's pronounced. It is truly a highlight of life here in the Alice.
One of the best parts of the Market is all of the food stands! Vietnemese, Thai, Chinese, Sushi... so much to choose from! So naturally I went for the German sausage. Delicious! I had one a fortnight ago (heehee), and it was delectable, so it made sense that I head in that direction again this week. I ordered the spicy sausage and put spicy mustard on it, just like last week, but apparently, I grabbed the "spicy English mustard" by mistake (or maybe on purpose... I don't know). Anyway, one bite, and my entire face was on fire! I thought that my nasal cavity was going to implode and my eyes were going to pop; tears were jumping from my sockets cartoon style-- it was intense. I am ashamed to say it, but I had to wipe off the mustard in order to finish it. I can handle spicy, but that really made me want to die. My face hurts just thinking about it.
The only way to recover was to get myself a frozen mango.
Best. dessert. ever.
It's really just mangos frozen and mushed up into sorbet and served in a cup. So simple and scrumptious.
So, when you all come to visit me in Alice, make sure it's during a market weekend, ok?
One of the best parts of the Market is all of the food stands! Vietnemese, Thai, Chinese, Sushi... so much to choose from! So naturally I went for the German sausage. Delicious! I had one a fortnight ago (heehee), and it was delectable, so it made sense that I head in that direction again this week. I ordered the spicy sausage and put spicy mustard on it, just like last week, but apparently, I grabbed the "spicy English mustard" by mistake (or maybe on purpose... I don't know). Anyway, one bite, and my entire face was on fire! I thought that my nasal cavity was going to implode and my eyes were going to pop; tears were jumping from my sockets cartoon style-- it was intense. I am ashamed to say it, but I had to wipe off the mustard in order to finish it. I can handle spicy, but that really made me want to die. My face hurts just thinking about it.
The only way to recover was to get myself a frozen mango.
Best. dessert. ever.
It's really just mangos frozen and mushed up into sorbet and served in a cup. So simple and scrumptious.
So, when you all come to visit me in Alice, make sure it's during a market weekend, ok?
Friday, August 8, 2008
A mark, a yen, a buck, or a pound
Isn't foreign money fascinating?
So here are their coins! Starting at the top left, they are: $.05, $.10, $.20, $.50, $1.00, $2.00. (Interestingly, they don't have any pennies; instead, they just round the total to the nearest 5 cents. I think it's a great plan, too. Stupid pennies.) To the left are what I would consider the "tails" of the coins. You can't see them too clearly, and for that I apologize, but I did my best with the equipment at hand. Now, in true tricky Australian-ness, the tails on the dollar coin changes pretty regularly, and possibly on other coins, too, but I just can't be sure. This particular one features kangaroos, but I've seen other images as well. I guess it's similar to the state quarters back in the states.
The paper money is equally intriguing. Their bills fall into the same categories as ours, excluding the $1 bill, as it is unnecessary thanks to thier advancement in coinage. The first thing that you notice is the color (colour). I have been told by many people on many occasions that US money is boring because it's all the same color (colour); I try to assure them that we are branching out and that the new $10 bill is quite exciting, but they're just not buying it. And who can blame them? They have money shot in Technicolor (Technicolour?) for crying out loud!
I mean, American money is so familiar, that I forget that there are other ways to do it, you know? People here have openly laughed at me when I tell them we have a 25cent piece, but isn't it equally bizarre to have a 20cent piece? And what's all this about dollar and two-dollar coins? I mean, I've seen the odd Sacajewea, but I wouldn't say that it's common.
So here are their coins! Starting at the top left, they are: $.05, $.10, $.20, $.50, $1.00, $2.00. (Interestingly, they don't have any pennies; instead, they just round the total to the nearest 5 cents. I think it's a great plan, too. Stupid pennies.) To the left are what I would consider the "tails" of the coins. You can't see them too clearly, and for that I apologize, but I did my best with the equipment at hand. Now, in true tricky Australian-ness, the tails on the dollar coin changes pretty regularly, and possibly on other coins, too, but I just can't be sure. This particular one features kangaroos, but I've seen other images as well. I guess it's similar to the state quarters back in the states.
To the right, I took a picture of the heads of all the coins, and lo! it's all the same person! "Then, Jo, why did you bother to take a picture of all of them? Isn't that rather silly?" No, dear readers! While it is true that every coin features your friend and mine, Queen Elizabeth II, they are each subtly different. Once again, I apologize for the poor quality of the pictures, but if you look very closely, you will see that the Queen's image is different based on her age at the mint of the coin. For example, the center 50 cent piece (in the middle) features a young and elegant queen, while the 20 cent piece (top right), portrays the queen much closer to her present age. Fascinating, no?
The paper money is equally intriguing. Their bills fall into the same categories as ours, excluding the $1 bill, as it is unnecessary thanks to thier advancement in coinage. The first thing that you notice is the color (colour). I have been told by many people on many occasions that US money is boring because it's all the same color (colour); I try to assure them that we are branching out and that the new $10 bill is quite exciting, but they're just not buying it. And who can blame them? They have money shot in Technicolor (Technicolour?) for crying out loud! 
Once your eyes adjust to the vivid color (colour) scheme, I would like to draw your attention to the size difference between bills. I had a really hard time with this at first. Each bill is its own length, so that when you have wads of cash, you can easily discern the $100s, or "greenies" as they're called, from the far inferior $5s. Ok, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't part of the fun of money that you can hide $1s in a stack of $20s? Exhibit A: My Cousin Vinny; where would the comedy have been if, when J.T. tried to hustle Mona Lisa and Vinny, they could easily discern the different bills by size from a distance? But I digress...
I just had a thought: Is there a concern about getting the bills sizes confused when they are all drastically different colors (colours)? I think I need to investigate this further. Perhaps there's more to it.
I wish that I could tell you fun things about all of the people featured on these notes, but I have no idea who they are. Most of them don't even have names on them, which I think is pretty silly. I wouldn't be surprised if most Australians didn't know who they were, either. They all look pretty important, though. I mean, they made it onto money, which is more than most people can say.
And finally, here is the coveted 100 dollar bill, the elusive "greenie". "Jo, you're loaded! Why do you have all this cash lying around?" Well, friends, that is because, while the hotel insists on direct deposit, the steakhouse just hands me an envelope of cash each week. Classy. Anyway, check out the little plastic window in the bottom left-hand corner. They all have them, all different shapes. Quirky, no? Such funny money.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Amadeus amadeus
I am less than a month away from my first Holiday adventure, which is terribly exciting as you can well imagine.
On September 2nd, I am going to fly to Sydney and hang out there until the 5th. On the 5th, I am flying to Christchurch, New Zealand, and on the 6th, I leave on a 7 day tour of the southern island, including hiking Fox Glacier and cruising in Fiordland. Then, on the 13th I fly back to Sydney and get back to Alice on the 14th. Not even two weeks. Perfect.
But what has me excited beyond all belief?
I just bought a ticket to see Mozart's Don Giovanni at the Sydney Opera House.
I am seeing an opera. at the sydney. opera. house.
I have basically been on the verge of tears with excitement since I booked my ticket.
MOZART AT THE SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE!!!
On September 2nd, I am going to fly to Sydney and hang out there until the 5th. On the 5th, I am flying to Christchurch, New Zealand, and on the 6th, I leave on a 7 day tour of the southern island, including hiking Fox Glacier and cruising in Fiordland. Then, on the 13th I fly back to Sydney and get back to Alice on the 14th. Not even two weeks. Perfect.
But what has me excited beyond all belief?
I just bought a ticket to see Mozart's Don Giovanni at the Sydney Opera House.
I am seeing an opera. at the sydney. opera. house.
I have basically been on the verge of tears with excitement since I booked my ticket.
MOZART AT THE SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE!!!
Sunday, August 3, 2008
What's the rumpus?
Sometimes, when I really miss my family, I watch Miller's Crossing. It makes me miss them less.
Just kidding, family! I'm glad I could remove the DVD from the hemisphere for you =-)
Just kidding, family! I'm glad I could remove the DVD from the hemisphere for you =-)
A Town Called Alice
I mentioned a little bit ago that I went to the Telegraph Station for Liam's birthday party, but really, it warrants a little bit more than a side note in a post about kangaroos. (Really, I think I need to stop posting about kangaroos so much, but they are so darn fascinating!!!)
Now, as some of my more dedicated readers may have caught in the aforementioned side note, the town of Alice Springs was born at the Telegraph Station. It was established in 1872 as a stop along the Overland Telegraph line from Adelaide to Darwin. Stops on the line existed solely to boost the strength of the signal as it travelled along the line, so the operators would sit in the station and listen to the messages coming from Darwin and Adelaide and resend them along to the next stop. It was a boring life.
The Telegraph Station sits right on the shore of the mighty Todd River, or rather, the occasionally mighty Todd River. It is bone dry most of the time, just an expanse of flat sandy river bed, but when European explorers came to establish the station, they happened upon the river shortly after several days of rain.
Now here's the good part:
The men saw a particularly turbulent bend in the river and assumed it to be a spring; in actuality, there was an underwater cave that filled and emptied about once every 5 minutes, not a spring at all. So, in an attempt to suck up to their boss back in Adelaide, they named the spot after his wife, Alice. After years of good intentions, Alice passed away before she ever made it to the town named for her.
So Alice Springs is named after someone who never went there, and for a spring that doesn't exist.
(Cue Linda Richman: Discuss)
Only in Australia, friends.
Now, as some of my more dedicated readers may have caught in the aforementioned side note, the town of Alice Springs was born at the Telegraph Station. It was established in 1872 as a stop along the Overland Telegraph line from Adelaide to Darwin. Stops on the line existed solely to boost the strength of the signal as it travelled along the line, so the operators would sit in the station and listen to the messages coming from Darwin and Adelaide and resend them along to the next stop. It was a boring life.
The Telegraph Station sits right on the shore of the mighty Todd River, or rather, the occasionally mighty Todd River. It is bone dry most of the time, just an expanse of flat sandy river bed, but when European explorers came to establish the station, they happened upon the river shortly after several days of rain.
Now here's the good part:
The men saw a particularly turbulent bend in the river and assumed it to be a spring; in actuality, there was an underwater cave that filled and emptied about once every 5 minutes, not a spring at all. So, in an attempt to suck up to their boss back in Adelaide, they named the spot after his wife, Alice. After years of good intentions, Alice passed away before she ever made it to the town named for her.
So Alice Springs is named after someone who never went there, and for a spring that doesn't exist.
(Cue Linda Richman: Discuss)
Only in Australia, friends.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Quit yer belly-achin'!
I spent US$100.55 today to fill up the station wagon today. 15 gallons.
Australian: $1.75/litre.
How much did you spend on gas today?
Australian: $1.75/litre.
How much did you spend on gas today?
Friday, August 1, 2008
Vocabillary
Australia is a strange land. This is not news. But it is really fun finding out exactly how strange a land it is on a day to day basis.
One of my first days here, my cousin Imogen and I sat down and made a list of things that we have different words for, and I have been adding to it since.
Here's what we've come up with:
flip flops = thongs
sweater/hoodie = jumper
candy = lollies
ketchup = tomato sauce
grill = barbeque (both the noun and the verb)
tank top = singlet
toilet = dunny
ping pong = table tennis (does this one count?)
cell phone = mobile
trash can = rubbish bin
airplane = aeroplane (you already heard this one)
underwear = knickers
bathrobe = dressing gown (doesn't that make you think of Scrooge in Christmas Carol?)
hat = cap
But my most favorite one that I've discovered so far is, without question:
pepper = capsicum
Isn't that beautiful? Doesn't it have a musical sound to it? "Would you like some capsicum on your salad?" "Care for some roasted red capsicum tomato sauce?"
Love it.
One of my first days here, my cousin Imogen and I sat down and made a list of things that we have different words for, and I have been adding to it since.
Here's what we've come up with:
flip flops = thongs
sweater/hoodie = jumper
candy = lollies
ketchup = tomato sauce
grill = barbeque (both the noun and the verb)
tank top = singlet
toilet = dunny
ping pong = table tennis (does this one count?)
cell phone = mobile
trash can = rubbish bin
airplane = aeroplane (you already heard this one)
underwear = knickers
bathrobe = dressing gown (doesn't that make you think of Scrooge in Christmas Carol?)
hat = cap
But my most favorite one that I've discovered so far is, without question:
pepper = capsicum
Isn't that beautiful? Doesn't it have a musical sound to it? "Would you like some capsicum on your salad?" "Care for some roasted red capsicum tomato sauce?"
Love it.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
A desert wiffin a desert
Yesterday I had the morning off from the hotel, so, at Alison's recommendation, I hoofed it over to the Alice Springs Desert Park. Now, as a brief side note, I have been using Bill Bryson's book In a Sunburned Country as a travel bible; everything I do or plan to do, I check to see if Mr. Bryson did it, too, and to see if he had any pithy remarks about it. This is the conversation he had with his travel companion, Allan, on their arrival in the Alice:
"And what is there to do for two days in Alice Springs?"
"Quite a lot," I said encouragingly, and pulled out a brochure I had taken from a rack in the motel. I flipped through it. "There's the Alice Springs Desert Park, for one thing."
He inclined his head a fraction. "What's that?"
"It's a nature reserve where they carefully recreated a desert environment."
"In the desert?"
"Yes."
"They've recreated a desert in the desert? Have I got that right?"
"Yes."
"And you pay money for this?"
"Yes."
He nodded contemplatively. "What else?"
All hilarity aside, though, it was fantastic park. I got there just in time for the "Birds of Prey" show (as did dozens and dozens of other people: school kids, tour groups, etc.). It was incredible! There were galahs, black kites, whistling kites, a black breasted buzzard, an owl, butcher birds and an uninvited eagle circling off in the distance. The buzzard was definitely the coolest; it's one of two birds in the world that instinctively uses tools to eat. When it finds an emu egg, it picks up a stone in its beak and hurls it as hard as it can against the egg until it cracks and it can eat the insides. Very cool.
As soon as the bird show was over, I ran over to the nocturnal house to beat the crowds. There were so many animals! I saw bilbies, malas, quolls and countless other desert rats and marsupials. And the reptiles! Tons of snakes, skinks, legless lizards, thorny devils and anything else you can imagine. I probably spent an hour in there, visiting all of the animals over and over again. They didn't have an echidna on display, which was a bummer, but apparently there's one living in the back yard, so maybe, if I bide my time, I'll get to see one in the wild.
After the nocturnal house, I wandered around and found the kangaroo and emu paddocks. I actually got to walk around with the kangaroos, but they were pretty lethargic and wouldn't come say hi. But the fact that I was allowed into their pen is probably a point for the cute and cuddly, yeah? I don't know. The emus were separated from the path by a couple of fences, but it was still neat to see them. I think I am going to try to find some in the wild when I am down in South Australia, 'cause apparently that's where they all hang out.
In hindsight, I really only went to look at the animals, and didn't spend to much time in the "environment" parts. But it was still really cool. Probably would have been nice to go there with company, but what can you do, eh?
The worst part is that as soon as i turned on my camera, the low battery light flashed, so I only ended up with a couple of pictures of the kangaroos and maybe one or two of the emus. Ah well.
Peace.
"And what is there to do for two days in Alice Springs?"
"Quite a lot," I said encouragingly, and pulled out a brochure I had taken from a rack in the motel. I flipped through it. "There's the Alice Springs Desert Park, for one thing."
He inclined his head a fraction. "What's that?"
"It's a nature reserve where they carefully recreated a desert environment."
"In the desert?"
"Yes."
"They've recreated a desert in the desert? Have I got that right?"
"Yes."
"And you pay money for this?"
"Yes."
He nodded contemplatively. "What else?"
All hilarity aside, though, it was fantastic park. I got there just in time for the "Birds of Prey" show (as did dozens and dozens of other people: school kids, tour groups, etc.). It was incredible! There were galahs, black kites, whistling kites, a black breasted buzzard, an owl, butcher birds and an uninvited eagle circling off in the distance. The buzzard was definitely the coolest; it's one of two birds in the world that instinctively uses tools to eat. When it finds an emu egg, it picks up a stone in its beak and hurls it as hard as it can against the egg until it cracks and it can eat the insides. Very cool.
As soon as the bird show was over, I ran over to the nocturnal house to beat the crowds. There were so many animals! I saw bilbies, malas, quolls and countless other desert rats and marsupials. And the reptiles! Tons of snakes, skinks, legless lizards, thorny devils and anything else you can imagine. I probably spent an hour in there, visiting all of the animals over and over again. They didn't have an echidna on display, which was a bummer, but apparently there's one living in the back yard, so maybe, if I bide my time, I'll get to see one in the wild.
After the nocturnal house, I wandered around and found the kangaroo and emu paddocks. I actually got to walk around with the kangaroos, but they were pretty lethargic and wouldn't come say hi. But the fact that I was allowed into their pen is probably a point for the cute and cuddly, yeah? I don't know. The emus were separated from the path by a couple of fences, but it was still neat to see them. I think I am going to try to find some in the wild when I am down in South Australia, 'cause apparently that's where they all hang out.
In hindsight, I really only went to look at the animals, and didn't spend to much time in the "environment" parts. But it was still really cool. Probably would have been nice to go there with company, but what can you do, eh?
The worst part is that as soon as i turned on my camera, the low battery light flashed, so I only ended up with a couple of pictures of the kangaroos and maybe one or two of the emus. Ah well.
Peace.
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