Not Dead in Australia and New Zealand

Fox Glacier

Sun, 29 Jul 2007 08:04:42 GMT

Our chariot.

The ride. Our pilot diverted somewhat from his prescribed flight path.

Looking up.

Ice streams.

Ice caves.

Our guide. The ice formation behind him is much bigger than it looks.

See?

Tight squeeze.

Death below.

Cave face.

Crawling through.

Hidey hole.

The group.

Next: Queenstown and the Milford Sound

Winter in New Zealand

Sun, 22 Jul 2007 06:04:36 GMT

The road from Nelson to Fox Village was mostly unremarkable, except for the typically stunning New Zealand scenery. Drove over a river that was apparently used during the filming of the Lord of the Rings (throw a rock anywhere in New Zealand and it will hit something filmed in Lord of the Rings).

One stop was the Pancake Rocks. They're nice to look at, and interesting to ponder (apparently no one really knows how they were formed), but it's hard to create a compelling photograph of them. At least within the 10 meager minutes that we were allowed there before having to reboard the bus. At least it was for me.

Failure #1 (not even of the rocks, but of the walkway there):

Failure #2:

Failure #3:

Failure #4:

Failures #5-27 will remain unseen.

Here were some more interesting (non-pancake) rocks off the coast (photo taken from inside the bus).

And here's the moon over Mount Cook (also taken from the inside of the bus).

The first night in Fox Village, I was awoken by the sound of loud snoring at 4 in the morning. This gave me the perfect opportunity to go down to Lake Matheson to catch the daybreak.

This was just before it, on a shaky tripod.

This is after.

Mts. Cook and Tasman are visible in the background.

It was freezing that morning. Still, it was beautiful.

They raise deer as livestock, here.

Next: Fox Glacier

---
Note: This journal is several weeks behind. I'm now back in Australia, exploring the Atherton Tablelands and Daintree Rainforest in North Queensland. With no one in particular.

Scenic Prettiness

Fri, 06 Jul 2007 02:46:52 GMT

Went to the Abel Tasman National Park about two weeks ago (23/6/2007). Did sea kayaking for the first time, ever.

It rained at the start. Then these happened.

Our trusty guide.

Stopped in a bay for lunch. The view was nice.

Hiked for a bit after lunch. Another nice view.

Got back to sea after that. Then saw these.

Kayakers.

Departed from the kayaking group to spend the night in a freezing hut (more like a lodge, and better than spending the night outside somewhere).

Met another Chris.

He's from Vancouver. He tells me that they're having problems in the outside suburbs of the city, which intrude into animal habitats. Specifically, with cougars hunting people. We mostly talked about Christianity, though.

It was a long walk (22 km) from the hut back to Marahau, where the bus was to pick me up. It's a coastal track, though, so there's still nice scenery.

Walking across Torrent Bay at low tide.

Got to Torrent Bay hours earlier than expected (or so I thought), so we made a detour to something called Cleopatra's Pool.

It was pretty deep in the woods, and getting there required jumping/climbing over many, many rocks in a large creek, but it was worth it, I think.

Oh, and this looked interesting.

After a while, got to the actual sign marker for Torrent Bay, which informed me that it was a 3 hour walk back to Marahau. Unfortunately, I only had 2. So that was bad.

Now, I know that those signs usually overestimate slightly, but it was still unnerving. And even going as fast as possible (and most of the track was uphill, which was lots of fun), it took 2 hours and 15. But, I still managed to catch the bus.

Here's some stuff I saw close to the pickup point, when I was too tired to bother with my good camera. I think the little one did a pretty decent job.

Next time: Pancake Rocks and Lake Matheson

New Zealand Update #1

Wed, 27 Jun 2007 09:52:18 GMT

It's been almost two weeks that I've been in New Zealand, now. The first 4 days were spent in Auckland (4 days too long), then 6 days in Nelson (on the northern tip of South Island), which included 2 days in Abel Tasman national park, and I'm currently working on day 3 in Fox Village (next to Fox Glacier). I'm off to Queenstown (aka party central, apparently) tomorrow.

Here's stuff from Auckland and Nelson.

The Sky Tower:

I've been trying to be less social since coming here. It's easier, since there are fewer backpackers here than there were in Australia (a lot to do with that fact that it's winter now, although it'll be the exact opposite in Queenstown because it's ski season). In any case, here's the Czech who ruined my plan and dragged me out and about in Auckland even though there was next to nothing to do while we were there. His name's Peter, and he wasn't expecting a photo:

We both found this funny. I'm sure Lenin's real dream was to be associated with Stella:

I think the hammer & sickle transformed into a martini glass is also pretty funny.

Being camera enthusiants, we went out shooting one night. Here's the stairs I found to a perch to get a good view of the sunset:

And here's the sunset:

And here's some of the crew of the Stolt Orchid:

My chariot to Nelson:

The cathedral in town (looks familiar, eh? There are only so many ways to shoot a tall narrow building.):

View from the coast:

The clock tower in the center of town:

...and that's all for now. You'll have to wait until next time for the stuff that's actually scenic and pretty.

moving on...

Mon, 18 Jun 2007 01:55:49 GMT

I've spent the last three weeks of my trip in Melbourne, though I spent a few days in Brisbane before that, visiting no one in particular:

Yep. And after that, I was back to good old Melbourne, where it was about 20 degrees (Celsius) colder than it was when I left. Also, almost everyone I remembered had already left the city and almost everyone in the hostel worked during the day. So, a lot of my time, initially, was spent surfing the internet in the library, watching random people play the free video games.

The guy on the left is homeless.

Went to the botanical gardens again, on a day when it was less rainy.

And the ANZAC memorial.

Outside.

Inside.

Went to see the Dalai Lama, twice. The first one was a paid occasion, although (Canadian) Katie went with me and got free tickets, without even asking, for all four of his paid events (a $300 value!) from this random guy named Guido who had two too many. (I wasn't cheeky enough to ask for the other batch.)

Stage, in preparation for His Holiness' arrival.

His Holiness.

Think the Dalai Lama outsold Guns N Roses? Think again.

The first talk was more of a teaching session about Buddhism. Unfortunately, this meant that a large portion of it was spent listening to a translator's interpretation of the Dalai L's interpretation of verses from an influential Buddhist philosopher. It was a little confusing.

I would have enjoyed it more if the insane woman (I say this because she actually threw herself to the ground in worship every time DL was on His holy feet; no one else, monks included, did anything like this) sitting next to me took pictures less then once a minute and if her camera made less noise than a coffee bean grinder when she zoomed in and out (which she did constantly).

The free talk was much more enjoyable, and he actually opened up with an explanation of why people shouldn't worship him, and expressed his skepticism of faith healers. So that was nice.

The crowd at the free talk.

He gave his speech standing up.

Q&A.

His response to the last question was particularly enlightening. When asked by [some famous Aussie actress] what one should do when two loved ones are having a fight, his first answer was "You should beat them both." His second answer was "I don't know," which was followed by extrapolating about the difficulty of the situation and yada yada yada, and was capped off by another "I don't know." Not a strong finish. And, it seems to point out some inherent flaw in Buddhism when dealing with, like, you know, conflict resolution, or something.

Soon met a lot of people from all over the place.

Including these two troublemakers:

Stewart is from Brisbane, and Aziz is from Germany, though he's originally Afghani (his family left because of the war).

Also the first Spaniard I've met around these parts, Marta.

Can't go to Melbourne without stopping by Famous:

Our group included this guy:

He was dragged out until the wee hours after being off the plane for about two hours, with about four hours of sleep. His name is Paul, he's from Scotland (Inverness), and you can call him Doctor. Haven't met a whole lot of scientists (okay none) traveling in Australia, so it was nice to finally meet someone else with whom to talk about living in a lab.

It was also an excuse to give someone a tour of the city, particularly so he could make use of his new camera, which he got for free through the marketing department of Canon in exchange for doing a website, www.crazyscotsmanontour.com (still under construction as of this writing).

View from the top of the war memorial, this time with my good camera.

The Royal Botanical Gardens, again.

The scary looking entrance to Luna Park in St. Kilda.

Pier in St. Kilda.

The St. Kilda Sea Baths.

They have a sea water swimming pool (chlorinated), which was cool, except I didn't have goggles, so swimming in it was painful. But they also had a spa and sauna, so all in all it was a day (and 12 bucks) well spent.

Inside central station.

Alex (who worked in the lab at U of L) and I had exactly one day of overlap in Melbourne. Here he is in front of the Croft Institute.

Also, bumped into Lisa (from my time in Sydney) again, which was quite nice.

Paul and Ian kilted it up on the last night.

And now I'm in New Zealand.

Wrapping Up

Tue, 29 May 2007 05:57:22 GMT

My visit to Cairns had a fairly narrow goal, and that was to see the Great Barrier Reef. I was there for eight days (arriving around 8 pm on Day 1 and leaving around noon on Day 8), the bulk of which were spent doing a 5-day dive course/trip to sea. I didn't do much else in Cairns. I saw Spider-Man 3 (it was ok). Also met some guys from Columbus, OH one night and went to some sort of alcohol-promoting event (it was ok).

After 4 days of grueling training and studying, I am now a PADI certified open water diver. My card:

My dive instructor, Jay.

He was teaching a group of 6 of us.

Jason, from Kansas City.

Dave, from somewhere in the UK.

Gerome, my French dive buddy, giving the underwater "I'm okay" signal above water. Tsk tsk. How am I supposed to know what that means?

Gerome (middle) with Martin (left) and Graeme (right) from the UK.

Me, day 3 at sea.

It was also day 3 of me not having a decent shower. Besides the fact that dunking yourself in saltwater 3-4 times a day (spending 2-3 hours total underwater) makes hair nappy and gross and hard to wash, I also got yelled at by the cook and the skipper (two people who you really don't want to piss off) for taking too long a shower after the very first dive. So I resigned myself to having a salty cactus head for 3 days, which is as fun as it sounds.

There were about a dozen other people on the boat who were already certified who I won't talk about because I have no pictures of them. There was also the crew.

Fozzy, the skipper. He tossed the cook overboard one night. He took this picture.

Tonya, the dive supervisor, giving a briefing.

The dive intructors (Jay - red shirt, Matt - green shorts, Masao - high up in the corner) and their newly certified students. See if you can find the girls.

It was really hard to take pictures underwater. It's hard enough to swim underwater without bumping into coral and stingy things, but to have to swim close with a camera and operate it without bumping into coral and stingy things is even harder. More on that later. So I found out quickly that my otherwise decent Olympus wasn't going to cut the mustard, because it's only good to 10 meters and we would go to 18. So, meet Camera #5:

A Canon Powershot A640 with an underwater housing good for 40 meters. It was a rental. I think it was a good choice, though. Besides the rather insignificant upgrade from 7 to 10 megapixels, the Canon as a better lens with a longer zoom range, as well as a larger (= less noisy) sensor, faster response times, and more manual settings.

So, Canon:

Olympus:

(The Olympus was at a slightly higher ISO, for anyone who cares. Both used a flash.)

And here we go.

Not quite Nemo, but close.

Black fish.

Black and white fish.

Blue fish.

Yellow fish.

Nudibranch, hanging out on some coral.

Another nudibranch, doing the same.

Giant clam. With a red sea star that I should've noticed at the time. Could've gotten some good pictures. Damn.

Bigger clam.

Detail of the first clam. How cool is that?

Detail of the sea star. 10 megapixels is good for something.

Didn't see any blue-ringed octopi outside of a specimen jar. Too bad.

Christmas tree worm (popped back into its hole before I could get a better shot).

Because of incidents like that, I decided that video was a bit easier, and captured the feeling of being underwater a bit better.

There were a few of these blue spotted stingrays.

I thought this was something else. (It's just a fish, swimming in a circle.)

A seal-faced pufferfish.

The highlight of my dives, swimming with the barracuda.

There were sharks during the one night dive I was able to go on, but they stayed away from the huge group of us 10 newly-certified divers. We weren't allowed to dive without an instructor that night.

There's an important rule for diving: don't leave your dive buddy behind. I left Gerome underwater because he apparently has gills (I was 50 bar ahead of him in air intake) and I didn't want to come back to the boat with too little air (or else Tonya would yell at me). Unfortunately, the boat didn't see my ok signal, so they couldn't understand why I was floating around by myself. So they sent a boat out to pick me and my potentially dead dive buddy. This was our ride back. (Tonya still yelled at me.)

Side note: If your name is Noah and your last name rhymes with "Becker", these used to be your socks. You lent/inadvertently gave me these after it rained during the horrific Frankfort Ave. trolley hop (with the closed galleries/bad art). They've now been in the Great Barrier Reef. So, by association, you've been in the Great Barrier Reef. Thanks for the socks.

End of the East Coast

Fri, 18 May 2007 15:12:50 GMT

Traveling between Brisbane and Cairns...

At the rest stop between Noosa and Rainbow Beach. I don't recall any in the US looking quite this nice.

Arrived in Rainbow Beach at night.

Walked around during the day.

It's a small town. About 1050 people live there (according to my Lonely Planet guidebook). I can't figure out what they do all day. The main street of the town, where all the shops/restaurants are, is about 10 shops/restaurants long. It's nice enough, though.
Empty beaches and nature walks are pretty much the reason to go to Rainbow Beach. It's also a 10 minute boat ride to Fraser Island, making it the closest town to one of Australia's main attractions.

This is Tin Can Bay, about 3 kms from Rainbow Beach.

The trees grew in the sand. The roots seem to be used to a little more water.

Jon (more "yoon" than "yawn") and roots.

And Malin.

We saved this fish from drowning in air.

There were innumerable tide pools.

Oh, and there was a trailer park nearby, with a lot of permanent residents. Kind of weird.

Went to Fraser Island, the biggest sand island in the world. Here was the group.

From left to right: Jon, Malin, Stefan('s head), Kerr, John, Aiden, Maiken, John. Stefan and Maiken are Danish. Kerr, John, John, and Aiden are Irish. Jon and Malin, as I've pointed out before, are Swedish.

Lake McKenzie, far and away the island's main attraction. The sun wasn't cooperating quite as it should have been, so the pale blue fringe that's at the edge of the water doesn't come out as well. It's still beautiful, though.

In the middle of the lake.

Rainforest walk.

Lake Waddy. It's basically a slide. Take a bodyboard, lay chest down, and ride down ~20 meters of sand into the lake. Brilliant. Standing on top of the bodyboard is also an option.

There is a miniature desert behind Lake Waddy, that stretches to the ocean. That's Stefan, in the middle.

The morning of our third day on Fraser, a funny thing happened. The night before, we left an incandescent bulb running off the truck battery. Another group who did it the night before had no problems, so we figured we wouldn't. That morning, it started pouring rain. We had to pack up our food (so the dingos wouldn't get to it) in this pouring rain. That took a good 20 minutes, and we were all soaked and ready to leave camp at that point. Turn the key, nothing. So we're stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no phone reception, with a dead battery on our only means of transportation besides our feet. Not good. Spent about 30 minutes trying to push start the truck in the pouring rain and wet sand, while a couple people kept waving down other vehicles with no jumper cables. Finally got some people who had jumper cables, and we were pretty happy after that. And here's proof.

It was pretty humid, hence the fog.

The shipwreck of the Maheno.

Malin at Indian Head, a cliff near the northern tip of the island, where you can see sharks, dolphins, and other sea life if you get there early enough. We didn't.

Me in Malin's silly hat.

A dingo...

tried to eat our olive oil. Bit right through the metal cap. It wasn't this dingo.

Now I'm in Cairns, getting my open water dive certification (not cheap) while diving in the Great Barrier Reef. It doesn't get much better than that.

North agin

Wed, 09 May 2007 02:34:25 GMT

I keep on failing to update this thing regularly. It's partly due to internet access becoming harder to find and more expensive as I head up the coast. How it has progressed:

(1) Melbourne - free at the library and a couple of shopping centers, as well as the hostel
(2) Sydney - free with vouchers provided by the people who got me my visa, otherwise $3/1 hr
(3) Byron Bay - $2/30 min
(4) Surfers Paradise - $1.50/30 min
(5) Brisbane - free in the library but no uploading, otherwise $1.15/15 min
(6) Noosa - didn't even check
(7) Rainbow Beach - I am now paying $2.50/30 min to post this update.

Brisbane's skyline.

Brisbane is nice, but it feels really small. Even though the CBD is almost the size of Melbourne's, it feels nowhere near as populated. The beach in the city is an artificial one that they deposited next to the river. It's basically a big swimming pool with sand banks next to it. It was weird, yet people still flocked to it. Didn't go out much, which has been the trend since leaving Sydney. Met up with the Quebecois again, who are living/working in Brisbane, plus a friend of theirs, Dave (also from Quebec), who is in Australia for 5 weeks.

And here they are on punch night at the hostel.

It was really good to see them all again (and Dave was also great - among other good things to say about him, we have a similar taste in a lot of music). The place was called the Yellow Submarine, which was maybe appropriate when one considers that the guys far outnumbered the gals. Everyone living there (except for the occassional passer-through like myself) works full time jobs, mostly manual labour. It made me feel pretty lazy. Oh well.

Antoine (French, left) and Dara (English, right).

Caro (Belgian, right) and somebody I didn't meet.

The Gallery of Modern Art was good. Lots of contemporary stuff from Asian artists.

An unintentionally hilarious homage to Mao. It's meant to represent his two sides - Chairman and Emperor. My immediate impression was that it looked like Mao marrying himself, and was supposed to represent the effect of the grandiosity unthinkingly attributed to Mao through propaganda - a self-obsession taken to an extreme. You decide.

A really cool diorama chronicling the Long March led by the Chinese Communists. The miniature TVs show the claymations done with the little people.

The Australia Zoo (aka the Steve Irwin Zoo) was also a good time. (It's slightly north of Brisbane, actually close to Noosa, but I took a train from Brisbane.)

I'm not sure what this sign is trying to say. Something about crocodiles and instant death.

A really big croc.

You can walk around with the kangaroos there.

And pet the koalas.

Tassie Devil, running around.

A better picture of a cassowary than I had before.

A better picture of a tiger than I had before.

Echidna.

Celebrity spotting: Mrs. Steve Irwin and Miss Steve Irwin, Jr.

Also in Brisbane...

The most worthless sign on the planet.

Practicing for birthday celebration for Buddha.

Malin, beach, night.

The top of a rock wall, night. (Rock climbing is hard.)

Then went to Noosa for a couple of days.

One of these things does not belong. Guess.

Beach.

Sunsets.

My Wonderful Time in Surfers Paradise

Tue, 01 May 2007 00:00:57 GMT

They didn't work.

Byron Bay

Fri, 27 Apr 2007 05:24:36 GMT

The midnight gas station stop.

The road to Byron Bay.

A fisherman on Clark's Beach.

A cloudy daybreak at Main Beach.

Birdie.

Another birdie.

Lookout at the Pass.

On top of the lookout.

A little sand crab (actually one of the bigger ones).

Just before sunrise at the lighthouse.

Sunrise at Australia's most easterly point.

This is hard to explain. Imagine this scene:

Except with better color and more detail:

And these swimming in the distance:

It was like stepping into a postcard, except a moving one with sound and three dimensions.

Watego's Beach.

Clark's Beach, this time with the Olympus.

Jon (pronounced "yawn", but really "John") on right, Malin on left. Swedes.

Blue Mountains

Tue, 24 Apr 2007 05:15:56 GMT

(Those were kangaroos, by the way. This trip was about a week ago.)

Eucalyptus leaves up the nose.

The view.

The Three Sisters are on the left. The eucalyptus oil makes the mountains blue.

Apparently all the fruit/seedpods/I'm a bad listener on this type of tree look like an old man snoring.

And this looks like a gorilla. It's called "Witch's" something or other because people thought it looked like a witch.

The lair of the deadly funnelweb spider.

The elusive lyrebird. Look it up on Wikipedia. It's certified by the International Interesting Bird Organization as the most interesting bird in the world.

One of the Three Sisters.

Train that goes up the mountain, backwards, at what is apparently a 52 degree angle. I like that "Infants" comes after "Valuables" on the sign. So I guess there have been more lost/damaged valuables than lost/damaged infants.

Dressup at the gift shop.

Michelangelo would smack me if he were around.

Our little group, again.

That's not the camera, Steven!

My big fat Greek Sydney Update

Fri, 20 Apr 2007 09:03:01 GMT

As I prepare to leave Sydney, I decided that it was maybe time to tell people what I've been doing here for the last month, besides spending money and spending more money.

But before we continue, let me tell you how I spent some money.

Some of you may remember Camera #3 from my first entry (if not, go look). Well, Camera #3 is dead. This is the last useful thing Camera #3 ever did:

Tah dah. Soon afterwards, Camera #3 got a piece of sand wedged into the part of the lens in charge of focusing, which made it fairly useless (i.e. all pictures and video are blurry). I traded it in for $60.

So, meet Camera #4:

The Olympus 770 SW. It's weather sealed, waterproof (up to 10 meters under), and shockproof (can be dropped from 5 feet). So I say to nature: Bring it on. (I share our president's attitude towards nature and terrorists.)

The majority of the past 3 weeks have been spent hanging out with this guy:

His name is Nils (like Neal with an s). I met him on the same night as I met that guy from Alabama. Hooray for continuity.

He's from Antwerp, Belgium (that's right, the place where Tom Shane buys his diamonds). He has a lot of interesting stories, like the time he hit a girl with his car and started dating her a week later (like in that NASCAR romance novel). We're opposites in a lot of ways - he's a lot more friendly and outgoing than I tend to be, and he can be pretty industrious about getting numbers from attractive women. And it's not all talk and hand waving, either; he started seeing a tall Swedish model within his second week of being in Sydney. But he's also intelligent and wants to gain a more nuanced perspective on the world (at least more so than that of his friends at home, who care about only cars, money, football - that's soccer to most of you, and, yes, women - in the objectifying sense). It lends itself to having good conversations. And it's good to have someone around who's always ready to do something fun. So, we get along quite well.

This is Danny, from Canada:

He was around for only 4 days or so, but as the giant lens on his Pentax might tell you, we had a few things in common. He also wears glasses, which means he's smart. Teaching is his chosen profession.

From left to right are Steven, Liam, Nils (who you've met), and Lisa. Liam and Steven are from a town between Manchester and Liverpool, and Lisa is from somewhere in Holland. This was at Bondi:

And finally, there's Annika, who's German but lives in Brussels, Belgium. She's like a miniature Debbie Harry (from Blondie):

Other random people have come and gone, but they will remain a mystery to you, for now.

One day, we did a walk around the city, and I took some pictures.

Inside the ANZAC (Australia New Zealand Army Corps) Memorial:

Inside St. Mary's cathedral:

Botanical gardens:

Playground by Harbour Bridge:

That was all from one day. Here's stuff from other days.

Bondi beach, morning:

Bondi beach, sunset:

Opera house, sunset:

Anzac bridge, night:

Myrtis, by Anselm Kiefer, in the NSW art gallery:

One version of the very first Apple computer (they were do-it-yourself kits), in the Powerhouse Museum:

There's a skywriter who operates around the city. We're impressed by his flying skills, but we're always perplexed by his messages.

This became "SAGEM", which makes as much sense as "SAGEI":

This was "Marry Me Ango?" as far as I can tell:

There is a lot to do in Sydney. Kings Cross can be a bit scary at night, especially if you don't like hookers and junkies, but there a lot of places to go there. Darling Harbour, where the famous Sydney Aquarium is located, is also a good place for a night out. Famous's Sydney cousin, Home, is there. There's apparently an ice bar around there where you can pay 30 dollars to be inside for 30 minutes. Everything is kept at subzero temperatures. I didn't go, but there was this Scottish guy, Frankie, who was smart enough to go in wearing shorts. One thing I can do without for a long time is crappy acoustic cover bands/solo acts playing in bars. Yeah, I know they're supposed to all play the same songs, but if I have to hear "Wonderwall" one more time, I'll have an aneurysm.

One night at the Bondi Road Hotel (Annika's camera).

Our little group + Danielle on the left + me who can't smile properly.

Wow, two more pictures with me actually in them.

The beaches here are plentiful and only 20-30 minutes away. Coogee is the one I've stayed away from since being punched in the head, but Manly is nice, and Bondi is super. Noah's Backpackers (hostel) at Bondi Beach was good because it was so close to the beach, but bad in terms of cleanliness. The rooms were sort of vacuumed every once in a while, but no amount of suction can get rid of ocean fresh carpet mold. And there was a weird green thing growing on the tiles in the guys' shower. Oh well.

Catching waves can't be beat:

(See? Waterproof.) An especially good day was when the waves were affected by some storm off/up the coast. There was an unusually high number of palm tree leaves, twigs, and large bits of seaweed in the water. Also, the waves tended to be about 4 metres high. Nils rode the top of one of them, and got smashed into the sand as it came down. He looked like he'd just been in a car crash. Usually it's less like being thrown to the ground and being crushed by water than it is like being in a washing machine. And actually riding the wave (as opposed to wiping out, as I've just described) is very satisfying. It's good fun, either way. Haven't tried surfing yet, but I may when I'm further up the coast. Also haven't seen any sharks or jellyfish or crocs or blue-ringed octopi yet. I may when I find a secluded swimming hole in North Queensland. Apparently, swimming up there is like hanging a flashing neon "I WANT TO GET EATEN BY A CROC" sign around your neck. (Especially if you're German, right Kirstan?)

I'm leaving for Byron Bay today, on a Greyhound bus. Nils, Liam, and Steven left last night, for Melbourne and then Perth. We had one last 5 dollar steak night at the Strawberry Hills Hotel (btw, "hotel" usually means "bar" here):

And then:

Next update: Blue Mountains

An update to my favorite journal

Mon, 09 Apr 2007 08:41:40 GMT

Day: beach

Night: out

Life: good

Leaving Melbourne, Redux

Wed, 28 Mar 2007 07:07:05 GMT

It was time to go. Melbourne is a great city, but I wanted to see some of the rest of the country before winter set in. I might miss the famously lovely Melbourne autumn, but I can live with that.

It rained, yet again, on my last night there.

The weather wasn't much better in Sydney, when I got in on Friday. In fact, we flew through lightning storms on the way to the airport. It also started raining buckets after I checked into the hostel, which is right next to Central Station.

Before going out to get beaten up by cowardly thugs that night, met my new roommates, which included a guy from Belgium named Bart, a guy from Japan whose name I never learned because he was never around when I was, and three guys from Derby (pronounced "Darby"), England.

And here they are.

They're much taller and better looking than I am.

See?

Wandered around the city with them for the few days that they were in town. Went to:

(1) Some opera place

(2) Some sort of fish museum

(3) The top of Harbor Bridge

They don't let you take cameras up on the bridge for safety reasons (i.e. metal objects falling from 400+ feet are unsafe), so they take your pictures for you. They give you exactly 1 picture. The rest cost $25 each. The bridge climb itself already costs several times that. So, if you just want nice views of the city, there are several cheaper, but much less exciting, options.

The old man on the left of the picture is named Dave, and it was his 90th birthday. He's 90. He swims 1 kilometer every day. He bikes. He does other fitness-related things. He's also been pretty much everywhere in the world, and can remember amazingly minute details about his travels. He can also speak several languages, including German and Italian (although not Chinese, which he apologized to me for, for some reason). He's remarkable.

After the bridge climb, we got to buy him a drink at a pizza place/pub for his 90th birthday.

So, had many a good time with the Derby lads. Of course, they had to leave yesterday (Tuesday) morning (after sleeping for ~3 hours), so I have to find new people again. On the plus side, everyone else in my room has also left, so I have the whole place to myself, which is great.

Walked around the city yesterday with a Swedish gal who was also around in Melbourne. Pretty much stuck to the Darling Harbour area. Went to the Wildlife World, which is next to the aquarium. I'll spare you the dozens of closeup photos of animals. There were a lot of neat bugs and snakes there. Also, the nocturnal exhibit was very worth checking out, with the bilbies and a tiny mouse that ran around in circles. However, Susana was less than wowed by the koalas and wallabies because she's gotten to see them and pet them in the wild. I haven't.

The Chinese Garden had a lot of nice scenery (waterwalls, koi ponds, pagodas, the works). An odd feature of the garden is that you can pay money to dress up in olde-timey Chinese clothes so that your family (or whoever else you're with) can take pictures of you around the garden looking like ancient Chinese royalty.

I found it bizarre.

My companion for the day:

She's popular with guys, somehow.

Also went to the Maritime Museum (where we were joined by a guy from Idaho from her hostel - the 5th American I've met here), which was pretty terrible. You're able to go on a submarine and a destroyer docked in the harbour as part of the ticket, which is kind of interesting (probably more so for people other than me), but the museum itself is the worst idea for a museum ever conceived. Basically, if it has to do with (1) water and (2) Australia, it can go in the museum. That why there's a giant paper mache fish hanging from the ceiling next to a catamaran. And a display showing different types of swimwear (including a bathing cap/wig). And a section about immigration. And lifeguards. And steam engines. It manages to be both completely unfocused and utterly boring.

After that, said goodbye to Suze and Gareth and went home to take a long, long nap.

That night I met the 6th American I've come across during my trip, a guy from Alabama. He gets a kick out of the fact that he's heard "Sweet Home Alabama" sung by Aussies so many times since he's been here. He does, however, find it annoying that "Sweet Home Alabama!" is the immediate response when he informs people of where he's from. It's similarly annoying to have people exclaim "Fried chicken!" when I tell them I'm from Kentucky. However, some of the Germans I met in Melbourne said "Schriet ficken!" instead, which is actually pretty funny (if you know German or have someone tell you what it means. I'm sure that it's spelled incorrectly, but that's how it's pronounced). It's from a German comedy program.

So, I'll be in Sydney for a little while longer. There's still a lot to see.

First night in Sydney

Sat, 24 Mar 2007 15:29:22 GMT

After being delayed for an hour and a half at Melbourne Airport, missing the first train from Sydney Airport to the city, and missing the first bus from central to Coogee, I finally made it to the Coogee Bay Hotel (bar) to meet up with some holdovers from Melbourne.

The night was unremarkable (cover band + english bar + drunk people) until I noticed that some guys dancing drunkenly near the table were about to knock it, and the drinks on it, over. So, I politely asked one of the guys to be careful, because he was going to knock our drinks over.

Whoops.

First he gets belligerent and asks me to repeat myself, and after I do, he shoves me and says something unintelligible over the music. I turn my head back to my group, noticing that he started telling his friend something. (All his friends were pretty stocky guys.) And that's when I got punched in the head.

Right in the temple, in fact. My glasses flew off, so I immediately turned my back and crouched to find them. It was at that point that Grant, who was sitting next to me, got punched in the face and knocked unconscious. By the time I found my glasses, the people who did the punching had run away. I don't know why no one stopped them; there were certainly enough people in our group as well as other witnesses.

They got away, and Grant has a large bump under his eye, and I have a large bump over my temple, as well as a headache.

THE END (2:30 AM)

Telephoto Madness at the Melbourne Zoo

Tue, 20 Mar 2007 08:37:35 GMT

Nature lovers, rejoice.
(Unless you're in PETA, in which case, my apologies for visiting a "pitiful prison" like the Melbourne Zoo. I will say that the baboons looked less than thrilled to be there. However, the idea that PETA would rather kill animals than protect them in a zoo seems to indicate that they are, indeed, full of what the linked article suggests. With that out of the way...)
Here are a bunch of pictures of animals. Some of them are even native to Australia.

Red kangaroo (Aus):

Southern hairy-nosed wombat (Aus):

The most dangerous bird in the world, the cassowary (Aus):

[As an added bonus, you get the scientific names of everything with scales, for no reason whatsoever.]

The coastal taipan (Oxyuranus scutellatus scutellatus, Aus), the 3rd most poisonous snake in the world, after (1) the inland taipan (Aus) and (2) the common brown snake (Aus):

A tawny dragon (Ctenophorus decresii, Aus):

Rough-scaled python (Morelia carinata, Aus):

Wow. Jackson's chameleon (Chamaeleo jacksonii):

Green tree frog:

Budgeriar parrots (Aus):

Ring-tailed lemurs:

Meerkat. They will pose for you all day:

Snow leopard:

Some sort of giant spotted horse:

I've always wondered what one calls a place for storing platypi. The answer:

Finally, here's a platypus (Aus) going nuts:

I liked the zoo much better than the aquarium.

I have also become ill, just like half of the people in the hostel. Who's the jerk that invented central air conditioning, anyway? More like central disease spreading... fan... machine. I need rest.

Nighttime in Melbourne

Mon, 19 Mar 2007 09:45:17 GMT

Amok in Melbourne

Sun, 18 Mar 2007 06:48:21 GMT

The Quebecois were out Saturday for one last night in Melbourne. This German guy, Martin, and a couple of French gals came along.

Martin and David at the Night Cat.

Miriam and Martin before Martin lost his wallet and decided to wander aimlessly and drunkenly around Fitzroy for a bit and Miriam had to find him.

This was all before Jess (French gal) cut her foot on some broken glass. Like a faucet, it was. She probably could've used a stitch or two, but apparently that has to be done within 2-3 hours of the cut, as she found out the day after. So... yeah. She and Juli won't be doing much walking in the next week or so.

There was a protest the next day (St. Patrick's day) against the Iraq/Afghanistan wars and for this guy. So, I had a great excuse to run around with the photojournalists, taking photos.

This was towards the middle of the crowd. There were maybe 2500 people in total.

The laundry list.

The drummer leading the march, flanked in the foreground by the winner of this year's Miss Australian Photojournalist pageant.

Looks like Noam Chomsky and Borat have something in common. Wait.

This woman is actually yelling.

Newt Gingrich got hit on the head and turned into a socialist.

It was a diverse crowd.

This costume would've been clever if it weren't so... um... okay, no it wouldn't. Ever. I just wonder where the eye holes were, because no one was helping him (or her, but I think it was a him) along.

The po-po were in full force. Note the equine riot gear.

This is what's known as a "die-in". It's sort of like the sit-ins popularized in the 60s, except the people pretend to be dead.

The march ended in front of the Liberal Party Headquarters. Speeches commenced.

Mao is back, and redder than ever [and a woman].

Chairman Mao rouses the Red Army.

Peace and Love?

I'm so photogenic.

After a long rest, spent St. Paddy's Day in the least Irish places in Melbourne (not my choice, per se, but I didn't mind missing out on the crowds of green puking people. Plus, as you can imagine, the queues in front of the English and Irish pubs were ridiculous).

Eventually ended up at Famous:

It's supposedly the biggest club of this sort in the southern hemisphere (or maybe the one in Sydney is). They have a strict door policy, which boils down to two options: if you're a guy/group of guys, and you're not [option 1] with a girl/group of girls, you will not get in unless you're [option 2] hot. You can guess which option I had. I don't want to know how I would have fared alone. I think I was the only person wearing glasses in the whole joint (which holds several thousand people).

There was a DJ, surprise, surprise:

And that's all.

Good crack

Fri, 16 Mar 2007 06:39:56 GMT

To the lads from Northeast England, "crack" does not mean crack cocaine. It means "time" or "fun" or "news". There is either "good crack" or "bad crack".

Usage
An entertaining night on the town: good crack
Argument with someone on the street: bad crack
Your team wins at the football: good crack
When the guy got shot by the police on a London subway: bad crack

I guess we from the US say "what's crackin?" every once in a while, but it's not really the same. (They say, "What's the crack?") Hence, there is occasionally some confusion when they use "crack" around foreigners. (Wikipedia article)

The boys of Sunderland:

They drink. A lot. Every night.
They've maybe seen about 10 hours of daylight in the week they've been in Melbourne.
Of course, they leave today.

This one [Canadian] is staying around, though:

Her Justin Timberlake hat there always seems to be popular with random boys, who will dance up to her (if dancing is already happening, that is - it doesn't inspire people in, say, 7-11, to suddenly bust a move), steal it, and dance with her as she tries to take it back. Jane Goodall had it wrong: the most interesting primates aren't gorillas. Discounting the Quebecois, she's the second Canadian I've come across here.

Speaking of the Quebecois, they're back until tomorrow, when they head off to Tasmania. They'll be in Sydney sometime in the next week or so. Coincidentally, so will I.

What?

I mentioned in the previous entry that there were Labour Day festivities. I missed the parade, but there were a lot of other things going on.

This was a small portion of the crowd observing the Moomba Waterfest on the Yarra River. There were many, many more around the river bend, and just as many on the other side of the river (so, several thousand), either watching the event or at the carnival:

Here's a closer view:

The carnival was pretty much the same as any:

Lots of kids running around, lots of couples doing whatever couples do, and $9 hot dog "value" meals. One notable difference - this is what passes for a drinking fountain in a country that's been in a near-decade-long drought:

I've never watched water-based sports before (swimming doesn't count), so the stuff going on on the Yarra was a new experience for me. Apparently there were world champions of wakeboarding, ski-jumping, and other things competing that day. Someone told me that, in previous years, there was a contest that involved people jumping off the bridge into the river dressed in bird costumes. He said that they stopped because of the high E. Coli content of the water. (Apparently not.)

Sweet:

Aussie ski jumper:

American (woo!) ski jumper:

[Shooting these were hard, because it was from across the river and they were moving really, really fast. So, the next one was much easier.]

60 meter jump (follow the red dots):

I didn't see many funny things that day, but even if I had, this would still be the funniest. This street performer was set up in the middle of the park. He'd drawn a huge crowd. I was a latecomer, so I missed his earlier tricks. Depicted below is the moment before he attempts to use a whip to knock away a cigarette attached to the hand of a stuffed koala bear:

This was the result:

Here are the relevant details:

Pictures and thousands of words and all that. I don't need to say any more.

Oh, and last night, it rained, finally.

Mon, 12 Mar 2007 01:58:44 GMT

Happy Labour Day!

People are in the streets everywhere, and interesting and exciting things are probably happening outside right now. And here I sit, on the Interweb.

Hm.

Time to go.

Sleep: not happening

Sat, 10 Mar 2007 03:37:01 GMT

Moved into a new room two days ago, and have had very small amounts of sleep since then for 2 loud, French, and possibly insane reasons.

I don't why someone needs to talk about ordering McDonald's at 6 in the morning, but I'm pretty certain it doesn't need to be 2 feet away from my head with the light (also 2 feet from my head) on after only 2.5 hours of sleep.

Also, I remember hearing one of them mumbling (but occasionally shouting out) in his sleep, half in English and half in French. I think he was threatening someone. Two nights in a row. He has a big, recently acquired cut/bruise under his left eye for some reason.

So, I am a zombie.

But they moved out this morning, so maybe I can get some damn sleep tonight (not likely).

I saw a Jack Daniel's Racing shirt today and thought it might be a joke. But the mullet (yes, mullet) said otherwise. It's not a joke. (Thanks, Wikipedia!) Because I don't have brain damage, I am not a big racing fan, so the irony of alcohol-sponsored drivers/cars is fresh and new to me. (Not to Time Magazine.) But I will be sure to Drink alcohol responsibly while driving.

New roommates - arrived yesterday - are these two English guys who live close to Scotland and sound like it. It's Grant's birthday tonight, so that should be fun (and responsible).

I also met this guy Joost (Yeost?) from Holland who is a big fan of Wu-Tang.

The hunt for food begins anew.

Worst. Aquarium. Ever.

Thu, 08 Mar 2007 01:28:15 GMT

So the Melbourne Aquarium is probably not the worst one in the world, but the one in Boston is much better (and is the only other one I can remember) in terms of presentation and sheer number of fish.

Here's what I did find interesting (everything shot at 800 ISO so they're a bit grainy):

He's probably pregnant.

Moray eel.

A very dangerous Lion's Mane.

A somewhat less dangerous Lionfish.

A very dangerous Red-Back Spider.

Hermit Crab.

How can a fish be a clown? And why is it glowing blue in the picture? (All 8 pictures I have of these things have weird bright blue fringes around them.)

The worst insect on the planet. The ones the were always in our basement were never this big. Otherwise, I would own a flamethrower. And some big boots. I hate centipedes. So don't ever get me one as a present. (Unless you hate me.)

A not-nearly-as-dangerous-as-it-looks (also endangered) Grey Nurse Shark.

A not-dangerous-for-anyone-but-Steve-Irwin-and-maybe-two-other-people Stingray. (I should probably watch my back with that kind of talk.)

And that's all. Don't go to the Melbourne Aquarium.

Two weeks in Melbourne

Mon, 05 Mar 2007 05:23:12 GMT

Still jobless. However, I have backup funds to last me quite a while (i.e. my whole time here), so I'll be okay. Decided to hostel it for the time being, since it's relatively cheap for city living and gives me many more people to meet every week. Also lets me pick up and leave at any time, if I need to. The transience of friends is a little frustrating, but I guess that's normal for anyone traveling alone.

One thing I've discovered is that American music is pretty damn popular just about everywhere. I don't know if watching a mob of drunken Aussies shout along to "Sweet Home Alabama" is a good example of irony, but I'm pretty sure it is. Don't you think?

Also, the cover bands in Irish pubs in Melbourne look exactly like they do in every other country where there are Irish pubs.

I heard that Camera Obscura played here either last weekend or the weekend before. They sound a lot like Belle and Sebastian, for those who don't know. (And if you know anything about my music taste for the past decade or so, you'll know that I'll listen to anything that sounds even remotely like Belle and Sebastian. And if you don't, you probably don't know or care about either of these bands, and I apologize for this entire paragraph.) I thought it was odd that their music was audible from the street on a Saturday afternoon.

I laugh every time I hear hip-hop here (in restaurants and in the hostel, and occasionally from cars, which is extra funny) because I've seen maybe around ten black people since I've been here (one in the hostel from Germany). Obviously, people can listen to whatever the hell they want to, but one wonders where the influence comes from. Probably all that MTV that all the kids watch these days. A black dude from New York was working the door at this bar, and upon checking my ID asked what the hell a Kentucky boy was doing all the way out here. I told him. Afterwards, because he had an American accent, I asked him where he was from, to which he responded, "Not from around here. Could you tell? I'm not WHITE." And we all laughed and laughed. And from then on I noticed that there weren't that many black people here. (For the record, there are LOT of Asian people.)

I think I've met my Trivial Discussion of Racial Issues quota for the week.

Passion Pop (cheapest of the cheap wines) with matching Jo (matching because of the dress, not because she's somehow cheap):

The band at the Night Cat was good:

The market along the Yarra the next morning:

A man playing and selling zither music:

Yes, that's a poster of Jimi Hendrix behind him. Me and my amazing eye for composition. Ha. Ha. Oh, his right foot's out of frame? Damn.

Lots of North American street performers out and about this past Sunday. This guy was from Philadelphia, originally:

And yes, that's a flaming whip. The picture is pulled from a video clip because uploading video is such a pain around here. (I may upload it someday.) The gist of the act was (1) while standing on top of four meter pole, supported by ropes held by audience members, the guy (2) is thrown three unlit torches which he (3) lights and juggles, then extinguishes two and uses the remaining one to (4) light a flaming whip, which he cracks until the flame goes out. It all seems very dangerous. He actually managed to accidently graze himself with the burning whip at one point. I thought his efforts to get and maintain the crowd were much more entertaining than the actual act (which was definitely good), which included calling an old guy who started walking away towards the end a "cheap bastard" that he would "hunt down" and send Jehovah's witnesses to his house.

It was good street theatre.

This is a guy laughing at and clapping for bad street theatre:

The kid has the right idea. It was a compelling performance because it was pretty much a train wreck (which I neglected to take pictures of because I refuse to lend it any dignity). Something with this woman (who was also North American, by the way, via Canadia), ostensibly dressed as Barbie, who was holding Ken auditions. I think she put a hat and sunglasses on him and stuffed balloons down her shirt. "Material Girl" and similar music was playing. Something happened with hula hoops. Oh, and unfunny jokes that flopped 95% of the time were told almost continuously. Watching this street performer bomb was like being the alone in a room with a person with histrionic personality disorder (and I'm sure we can all relate to that). However, the fact that this one actually had an audience made it even worse.

Laying down at the Royal Botanical Gardens:

In contrast, the cold steel box (looking oddly like the one from the movie Cube) on the interior of the National Gallery:

The seagull likes it here, too.

Eating Chinese, 101

Mon, 26 Feb 2007 04:33:51 GMT

If there's ever a lesson to be learned about eating Chinese food, it's about sharing.

A couple of people had a hankering for Chinese for dinner,
so soon 11 hostelers were wandering about Chinatown looking
for something to eat. The restaurant they originally wanted
to go to didn't have enough space to accomodate so many people,
so the owner/manager suggested a place down the street that
apparently had ready-to-go Peking Duck.

Unfortunately, the restaurant was not of the sit-down,
everybody-order-your-own-food-and-you'll-get-it-in-exactly-5/10-minute
variety.

It took a bit of time to convince these starving Europeans and
French Canadians that having one dish per person would not be
the best thing in terms of price and leftovers. Plus, going to
a Chinese restaurant and eating at the big table with the spinning
thing in the middle without sharing all the food is like putting
crushed ice in a glass of expensive wine. It defeats the purpose.

It may not look like it, but these people are about 30 seconds from trying to eat the tablecloth for sustenance (picture pieced together from a panning video clip):

After some 20 minutes of nervousness about being blamed for the food not coming out in time and questioning the soundness of my dictatorial mandate to ration and share, it finally came and I breathed a sigh of relief. (I was told that I was being ridiculous to worry about any of that. That's probably true, but still.)

The spread (pptfapvc):

There's crocodile meat hidden in the middle of the pixelated garbage shown above. Reminds me a bit of lobster tail, as far as its texture.

Everybody ended up liking it (except for a couple of guys who probably could've eaten 3 dishes each and remained hungry. Oh well). Nothing beats sharing.

Sebastian (Netherlands) left this morning, which sucks. Florent, David, and Miriam (Quebec) leave tomorrow morning, which also sucks.

David and Florent at the Croft Institute (a bar in the back of a Chinatown alley with a medical/science theme. Very hard to find, but apparently popular and not nearly as dodgy as the location would suggest. The upstairs bar has real grass growing on it. This was several nights before the Intro to Chinese Dining):

David successfully told Florent to do the cool hip thing and not look at the camera, but forgot to do it himself. I still like it.

Guess I'll have to find more people to hang out with. That, and a job. That would be useful. Also useful:

That's right; I am now responsible. And legally allowed to pour alcohol in the state of Victoria.

Finally, here is (1) a view from the hostel and (2) Martin Short's evil twin, who happens to do street performance in Melbourne (picture is before he climbed into a trash bin). Both with my Casio, which takes terrible pictures but fits in my pocket (and does video). My D50 is lonely and bored.

pubs and pubs

Thu, 22 Feb 2007 16:32:18 GMT

drinking with kids (19-21) from Quebec and people closer to my age from Germany. Florent, Miriam, David, Sebastian, Peter, Paul, Keisha.

won in pool again, with many witnesses and accolades. usually i'm worse with the sauce.

went to Hungry Jack's (= Burger King) for a chicken burger. my first one was a charcoal burger, but Florent helped me fix that.

it is 3:30 and i am done.