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Background In mid-November, 2002, I was offered a contract SAT Instructor position in Sydney, Australia. Since my contract at Club Med in Turks and Caicos was coming to a close, and unemployment was the only excitement looming on my horizon, I decided it was the perfect time for an overseas adventure. I stealthily negotiated a two-month plane ticket ?the first two weeks would be spent preparing for and teaching the SATI and SATII courses, and the remaining 6 weeks would be a backpacking free-for-all. Australia Though I was working most of the time, I did manage to see a few sights in my free time those first weeks. My hosts took me to a wildlife park in Terrigal. I saw all the famous Australian animals and even got to pet a kangaroo. They are surprisingly friendly and sociable ?they were hopping around among the tourists and relaxing in designated areas. The koalas were another story. They were a bit stand-offish, but very cute. Actually, I am not sure if they were standoffish as much as they were bored and in a state of hyper-relaxation. The eucalyptus leaves that they eat leave them in a semi-catatonic state. They would be the poster children for a Grateful Dead revival concert. At the wildlife park, I also saw Tasmanian devils, emus, kookaburras, crocodiles, duck billed platypuses, wombats, and many other strange creatures of the Austraian wild. Our next stop was Old Sydney Town, a questionable attraction that is essentially a large space made to look like Sydney when it was first settled ?there were an old jailhouse, a tavern, horses and buggys, cannons, etc. The people who work there are all dressed like old-timey colonial Australian people and are milling about aimlessly, much as the original settlers must have done without an XBox or Digital Cable. The job ranks right up there with “Data Analyst for Presidential Campaign?and “Club Med Receptionist?(two of my former jobs ?the kind of gigs that sound fun but just aren’t). Old Sydney Town was pretty shoddy, which must be why it is closing down in January -- after many years of disappointing visitors from around the globe. At least that\'s my theory?/P> My next excursion was to Bondi Beach -- the ever famous surfing beach of Sydney. There were so many people on the beach, I couldn\'t even see the sand. It was like everyone in Australia was crowded on this one beach ?as if the rest of the country’s coastline was closed for the day. The weather was fabulous - so fabulous, in fact, that I fried myself to a crisp. Apparently, there is a gaping hole in the Ozone Layer right over Bondi Beach and all of the other beaches ended up visiting. Add nonexistent Ozone Layer that to shark attacks, fatally toxic and aggressive jellyfish, and unpredictable riptides, and the beach becomes more dangerous than south central Los Angeles during a riot. Australia also has several varieties of poisonous spiders in multitudes just hanging out waiting to hospitalize people. Add fourteen different kinds of poisonous snakes - and not just in the outback - in the suburbs, too. These creatures are equal-opportunity attackers. I was taking my life into my hands when I stepped off the airplane!
My Itinerary The Blue Mountains Sydney to Surfers Paradise
After walking around all afternoon in a shocked and disappointed daze, I did manage to get myself together by the morning and hop a bus to the Wet n\' Wild water park with a girl from my bus. The water park was pretty entertaining. The rides themselves were mediocre, but I was most fascinated by the locker system set up to hold your valuables. The park gives you a waterproof bracelet with a bar code on it. You set a pin code and you can open and close your little locker as frequently as you want all day long. Granted, I haven\'t been to a water park in about 15 years, and maybe this system is commonplace, but I was extremely impressed. Overall, Australia is a very sophisticated place. The Oz Experience bus stopped at the Australia Zoo, home to the ever famous Crocodile Hunter Steve Erwin. With an AUD $18 entry fee, I decided that I would only go in if the park people could guarantee Steve would be there giving one of his spectacular demonstrations --"Wow! Isn\'t she a beaute! Look at the size of those teeth! I\'m gonna cover may hand with strawberry jam and see if she\'ll bite me! Yes! She will! And it hurts! I should get to a hospital?But first I will cover my leg with vegemite and see if she’s still biting...!" You get the picture. Steve was in the park, but there was no guarantee he would be out and about so I didn\'t go in. He didn\'t give a demonstration, but, according to my fellow backpackers, there are many mini-Steves working in the zoo and they do a pretty good job when he’s not around. Next stop was a small town called Mooloolaba (seriously) which was a bit of a dive. Then I went on to a town called Noosa -- koala spotting country. This town was like the Beverly Hills retirement village of the Aussie east coast. There were very posh restaurants and houses providing a nice atmosphere. I took a short kayak trip with a girl I met at the hostel, and then we went koala hunting in the Noosa national park. Kindly enough, there is a short list at the ranger station of where koalas have been spotted that day - and since koalas don\'t really move very much in a day (or week or month), you can usually find them as directed. We started down the trail and, sure enough, we saw all three koalas that had been reported. Yes, all three. Like you, I expected to see thousands, like locusts, just sitting in the trees. But it seems that to spot three in one day is quite a feat. Where they all hide out is a mystery - because believe me, we looked. My neck was hurting from looking up at the treetops for about 4 hours. And all three we saw had their butts facing us. So, not only do you only see three, you only see koala butts because they sleep most of the time and they are all tucked up in a little koala ball. It is very exciting –the stuff National Geographic specials are made of. Well, not satisfied with 3 koala butt sightings (2.5 really - one was very small - the koala and his butt, both) we strayed from the trail (which probably could have gotten us a citation from the ranger -- or worse, a fatal snake or spider bite) -- and tried to get around a tree to see an actual koala front. As luck would have it, we made so much noise that we actually woke the koala up and it sat up and looked around a bit. Yes, folks, I got photos of a koala front. It was very exciting. Until the koala went back to sleep. The whole event lasted about 5 seconds. So, two questions: where are all the koalas and why are they always alone in the trees? This musing brought about a few more questions that we tried to answer ourselves -- like what do koalas do when humans aren\'t around? My friend and I decided they play sports and watch television, just like we do. We also think they like ice cream, since lots of ice cream stores have logos with koalas eating ice cream ?that couldn’t possible be coincidence. We also wondered if a koala is "upper class" if he has a beachfront tree for sleeping, versus a non beachfront property. We decided you must pay more for a view, though it isn\'t really worth it since they sleep most of the time. Needless to say, we distracted ourselves for 8km with koala musings. All in all, a good time. Nature rocks. Frazier Island On the bright side, nothing I will ever do from now on will be nearly as bad as that. Chinese water torture, jail time on Riker\'s Island, cleaning port-o-toilets, forced slave labor in Antarctica... all of that will just be a walk in the park. The Great Flood of 2003 Then on to Bundaberg, home of the ever famous Bundaberg rum (which I had never heard of since it isn\'t really exported -- except to Harrods in London and one pub in somewhere in Canada. But, according to the tour guide, the rum is very famous. I took her word for it, and, figuring it isn\'t something one can purchase anywhere else, I purchased some intending to ship it to someone very special at home. I ended up having a nightmarish post office experience that involved filling out millions of forms, showing 7 forms of ID, taking a lie detector test, and swearing to turn over my first born to the Australian government. When it was all over, I spent a small fortune (which, when you are unemployed is a large fortune) to ship it all back to the U.S. -- I actually spent twice as much to ship everything I bought as I did on the actual items. And then, to top it all off, I had a marathon run back and almost missed the bus (think St. Elmos Fire) and almost had a coronary. The Whitsundays Day one was good. I met a nice girl and boy from england. She was named Day two was not as good as day one. It seems, like sunscreen, seasickness tablets do not work when they are sitting inside one\'s backpack at the hostel. And anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to be "out-nauseated" on a boat or a roller coaster. It wasn\'t pretty. I spent most of the morning at the back of the boat staring at an orange life preserver wanting to die. Fortunately, there was a German woman on the boat who did manage to take seasickness pills onto the boat (she was one step ahead of me!), and she gave me a few. The info on the package was written in German, but at that point, they could have been cyanide pills and I still would have taken them. Fortunately, all was good after that. I managed to find my sea legs and enjoy the scenery. We snorkeled in our stinger suits -- we looked like drenched Oompa-Loompas -- no one looks good in full length lycra. We saw some fish, some creepy ocean things, and, all in all it was a good time. It did rain again on day three, but what\'s new in tropical Queensland?
After swimming for a bit (well, standing in the water and shrieking and Next was Mission Beach - where there was no beach - and then we went toward Cairns, which was the final stop on the bus tour. On the way we stopped at Mick\'s Crocodile Farm where there were some giant scary crocodiles and snakes and things. There was even a Cassowary, this nearly extinct relative of the dinosaurs that looks like an emu wearing a helmet and has big webbed feet. It is carnivorous and will rip you to shreads if you don\'t run over it with your car first. Mick and his wife left us alone to photograph ourselves with a baby crocodile - literally left us there and said "just be sure to put it back in the cage when you are done with it." Um, ok. Can you say dangerous? The crocodile did have some scotch tape over its mouth to keep it from biting anyone, in theory. I mean, I like scotch tape as much as the next guy, but I am not sure if office supplies were really the best option here. Things got a bit hairy when one of the girls (who was out of her mind with fear) held it for a photo and it wriggled out of her grasp. Luckily, someone else grabbed it or the croc would have certainly hit the ground running and escaped into the countryside. Or our bus. Or my backpack. Mick and his wife also left a few snakes and lizards around for us to play with. “Safety first?was certainly not this croc farm’s motto. Before we made it into Cairns, I did manage to throw myself off a 43 meter bridge at the AJ Hackett rainforest bungy jump. That\'s like 140 feet. Like 14 stories. I wasn\'t as scared as I thought I would be. I was actually pretty calm and laughing as they tied me up and counted backwards from 5 to 1. I jumped right when I was supposed to without hesitation and did a lovely swan dive toward the river below (it was actually lovely. I saw the video. I give myself an 8 out of 10 for technical skill, and 6 out of 10 for artistic merit - I wasn\'t wearing a good costume). For those who don\'t believe me, I have 5 very terrifying photos to prove it.
We flew into Christchurch on Sunday. The original plan was to go hot air ballooning and then fly south to Dunedin. This was the beginning of the never spoken about but very present underlying battle between the pathetic backpacker and the gainfully employed. When my eyeballs popped back into my head, we compromised on renting a car in Christchurch and avoiding flying the friendly skies - the entire country is about the size of Florida - if I can drive cross country in the U.S. in 3 days, I can drive through 1/4 of New Zealand in 7. Most people would have to get a second job to afford a trip like this ?I didn’t even have a first job! Renting a car proved to be difficult. Granted, Phil, the thankfully organized, had made two car reservations in Dunedin, but we were in Christchurch and preferred to rent a car there. Easier said than done. Sure, it is high season for tourists, but no cars available? Yes. No cars available. I literally had to bully a 50 year old man named Scotty via cell phone to give me a car he had promised to someone else. I pretty much demanded that he rent out his own car to me if he didn\'t have any cars left. And that\'s basically what he did. We ended up with a not-so-low mileage (200,000 KM) Subaru station wagon with dysfunctional A/C and squeaky brakes. And we loved every minute in it? Finding a hotel was equally challenging, but Phil managed to promise his firstborn to a desk clerk, which earned us a room with two single beds. Poor meg had to sleep in the crack after we pushed them together. It was cozy. We checked out Christchurch, almost went to a Norah Jones concert (sold out - imagine that?), and headed out the next morning. Taking the Scenic Southern Route, we went to Oamaru seeking penguins for Meg and ended up seeing some pigeons and a sickly seal instead. We didn\'t have time to wait for the penguins to appear after dark so we saw some awesome round boulders and bought my mom some authentic New Zealand yarn instead (you should have seen me chasing after that sheep with my scissors!! Classic!!!) That reminds me -- a little background on New Zealand. Not the same country as Australia, although they both talk the same kind of funny accent. There is lots of green countryside, lots of sheep (like 14 sheep for every person), lots of picturesque scenery, and lots of Lord of The Rings references. The biggest shock after realizing that it is summer in the southern hemisphere in January was finding out that summer in New Zealand is like winter in England. I had to shell out big bucks for a fancy rain jacket and wear all of my pants at the same time just to get out of the car to take pictures. Some days it was hot for a few hours (like ‘sweating like a whore in church?hot), then it would rain, then hail, then snow, then get super windy, and then it was bedtime. The weather is truly bizarre -- and all I kept thinking was how miserable real winter must be -- this place would put Quebec to shame! Back to the story -- that evening we went on a Yellow Eyed Penguin tour. This operation has trenches built into farmland so that tourists can spy on unsuspecting penguins. Wandering through the ditches, I was having Vietnam flashbacks (well, Good Morning Vietnam flashbacks) and kept expecting someone to start shooting at me or for napalm to drop from the sky. Aside from that, it was pretty cool. But even cooler was the drive to the penguin tour ?it was this insane, twisty road ?on one side is water and the other a big ditch ?inducing nausea for miles and miles. Not so cool. But what is cool about it is that the speed limit was 100 kph. We figured that to be about 60 mph, which was way, way, way too generous, since I was going about 35mph and was extremely frightened. At some point, I pulled over to let three locals overtake me, zoom by, and go 100 kph or more. It was sheer insanity! We came to realize that, unlike in the U.S., the “speed limit?in New Zealand is more like the “speed at which you might kill yourself but feel free to try because we take the phrase free country to a whole new level.?nbsp; The whole week, I saw not one traffic cop, parking cop, or any other kind of cop. It was like a freedom utopia ?and it was awesome! It was so nice to drive without speeding ticket paranoia. You can pretty much do whatever you want. I made a few three point turns in the middle of the highway. No one minded. They don’t have stop signs ?only yields! But they take their traffic circles very seriously ?someone honked at me because I was momentarily confused and it hurt my feelings. Dunedin to Queensland Next we drove to an area of southern New Zealand called the Catlans, looked for porpoises, saw some dolphins, and arrived late at night in a town called Te Anau. The next morning we were scheduled to kayak at 7:15 am about 120 km away at a place called Milford Sound ?actually a fjord, but who’s counting. Unfortunately, our fuel tank was on empty and there were no gas stations open early enough to help us out. After much debate, we decided to take our chances, and coasting in neutral most of the way, we just barely made a two hour drive. It was so worth it. The kayaking, granted it was hailing and frigid, took place in the most beautiful place I have ever seen. There were birds, and friendly dolphins, and massive waterfalls, and tropical trees. It was really, really worth the pain and suffering ?my hands and feet were numb for about 7 hours afterward. The lake we kayaked in was melted glacial water so you can only imagine. There were also some pesky sand fleas that give massive itchy bites. Yowzers! Queenstown and beyond After Queenstown, we went northeast and stopped to let Phil live out one of his dreams ?to drive a rally car. I am not sure what a rally car is, but it looks like a regular car with a really big engine and seatbelts that look like you are sitting in a fighter jet. He didn’t actually get to drive, but being a passenger was thrilling enough, as it turned out. Phil and I made skydiving reservations for the afternoon, but it was, sadly, too cloudy to go. However, it was probably for the best, as I was sufficiently dizzy and disoriented after our visit to Puzzling World, which included a giant outdoor maze, all kinds of optical illusions, and a room where the floor was at a 15 degree angle and everything else was straight ?mystifying, it was. Meg and I both barely escaped without puking, but we all agreed that it was a good afternoon diversion and gave “props?to its creator Stuart Landsborough. Next we went on a hike (some of us more willingly than others) and, low and behold, who did we run into but Stuart Landsborough himself! It was eerie and uncanny, but strangely cool. I think he was surprised that we knew who he was and we were sort of gushing about Puzzling World so he made a quick exit. Afterward, we headed off to Mount Cook, the highest mountain in the Southern Hemisphere (maybe…or maybe I just made that up.) Mount Cook was lovely, as are all the mountains in New Zealand. I let Phil and Meg have some alone time ?they went for a post-breakfast hike (I think Phil secretly wanted to stay with me at the hotel and soak up some rays, but he did the good boyfriend thing by going along? Meg is what we lazy folk call a “hiking nazi?and what athletic people call a person who likes hiking and being outdoors. I like Lifetime Television and Reece’s peanut butter cups. That’s what’s great about the world!) On our drive back to Christchurch, we stopped to swim in an absolutely gorgeous, turquoise blue lake (that was about 123 degrees below zero.) I must have had a delusional moment to go in, but as soon as I hit the water, my wits returned and I high-tailed it back to the car, suffering from frostbite and shock. This reminded me that, like lions, lakes are pretty things to look at, but you don’t need to touch them. They are both best enjoyed from a distance if you don’t want to die a painful death. Back in Christchurch, we returned the rental car (which we affectionately called “The Ru? and took a cab to a rugby match ?the Canterbury Knights versus the Wellington Hurricanes. We had very undesirable seats for rain (they were uncovered) but, fortunately, it was super sunny and we were literally in the fourth row at midfield. It was superb! Granted, Meg and I know nothing about rugby except that the guys playing were very attractive and in our age bracket (and potentially single?, and Phil knew not much more, even though he is a boy and he grew up in England?(that’s pretty shameful, I’d say ?but don’t tell him I said that). We took lots of photos and ooh-ed and aww-ed when appropriate. The stadium had sort of a King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table meets Medieval Times dinner theatre theme going. Overall, rugby seems very athletic and is more dangerous than any American team sport because they don’t wear helmets or any padding, so that was impressive in and of itself. I also liked that the ball was in the shape of a squashed football and that the players wore knee socks and threw each other in the air every so often. It was like Greco-roman wrestling, ice hockey, and the ESPN cheerleading championships rolled into one. Good stuff! We flew back to Sydney early (too early) on Sunday morning. On the plane, while Phil was dozing, Meg and I scored 2 decks of playing cards and a tour of the galley kitchen from the nice flight attendant man ?the feminine charm never fails. The tour wasn’t especially interesting ?the highlight was ending up near the lavatories, as nature was calling and we needed to answer ASAP! After two more days in Sydney, I flew back to Los Angeles. Overall, it was a tremendous six weeks and I am very excited to return! Farewell from me, the koalas and kangaroos - the wombats and platypuses say “go stuff yourself?(I never said all the wildlife was friendly!)
"The awning over the toy shop" is used to describe what we Americans call a beer belly. as in "check out that guy over there -- he\'s got quite an awning over the toy shop!" "Pear shaped" like "out of whack". As in "My plans were solid until it began to rain. Then everything went all pear shaped." "On the piss". means "drinking". As in "tonight there are no good movies showing so we are all going on the piss." Not one of my personal favorites, but very popular Down Under. "Good on ya". means "good for you." As in "you wandered through the "Knackered". means "tired or worn out". As in "carrying my bloody
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