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.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
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.
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