Travel Log Number Fifteen: A Medley of Different Things
Alice Springs, Australia 1730 25/04/2007 Tuesday, local time.

Let me first of all apologize to you, my faithful readers, [if you're still reading, that is] for my last post. Perhaps I'll be having a talk with the nice men in the white coats soon...

At any rate, I'm in Alice Springs, and killing time waiting for my flight out to Sydney.

I went on a three day tour, including Ayers Rock/Uluru, the Olgas/Kata Tjuta, and Kings' Canyon.

I climbed Ayers Rock/Uluru. Against the express wishes of the Anangu. Funny, they don't have a t-shirt that says that....

It's a rock. With a good view of not much for 30 k's in all directions from the top. What may make it worse [in your eyes, at least] is that I thought very long and hard before climbing, and decided to do it anyway. The funny thing is is that of our tour group, all of the people who climbed were men. And all of them bar me referred to it as "Ayers Rock." Not "Uluru." Perhaps an emotional distancing trick?

Yes, I have pictures. Of all three places.

Kings Canyon and the Olgas were better. I mean, c'mon. Uluru is... a big rock. I have some really nice pictures of these as well. [Thank you mom for the extra flash card]

We left from the backpacker's hostel at 5:30 Thursday morning, and got back around the same time in the afternoon on Saturday. We had a mixture of Germans, New Caledonians, Italians, English, and... me. Unfortunately, our group never really... bonded. It was always kinda the Germans in one corner and the New Caledonians in the other, with the two English girls and I in between. Well, not always, but that's a different story.

Also unfortuanately, this has turned into an epistle somewhere along the way.

We had a great night camping in the bush [the stars were... absolutely incredible.], and a good night camping in a slightly more regular campground [where I went ATV riding for an hour the next morning, which was also great fun. I managed to run into a tree. Twice. Two trees, one after another, on the first occasion. And I almost lost my head to a rather large and suddenly apparating branch in the second...]

So I've been back in Alice for a couple of days now, waiting for my flight. Mostly reading, watching telly, and talking. Oh! But I did just learn how to play a didg... [Shame on you dad for getting rid of yours...]. And tomorrow is writing and sending all of the postcards I've been collecting for weeks now... [Shame on me for procrastinating... But I'll get to it tomorrow. I swaer. I will. And you'll get your postcard. Though some of you may see me before you get your postcard...]

I fly from Alice on Thursday, and I'll be in Sydney until I fly out on Tuesday, when I get to go home! Completely broke, $3500 over budget, and 11 days early, but home. With actual clouds. And rain. And a notable lack of sand, black flies, and nasty venomous things. Oh, and real trees.

Travel Log Number Fourteen: The Skinny [You Might Say Anorexic] Report
Darwin, Australia 0215 14/04/2007 Saturday, local time.

I'm tired. It's 2 in the morning. I haven't written an update in I don't know how long.

You're not going to get much this time, either.

I'm in Darwin. I got there at 10:30 at night, after spending 26 1/2 hours on a bus. Two books and a lot of sleeping.

From what I saw [because I stared out the window, as well], I like it here. It's warm and moist and there are trees! It's such a nice change from all that thrice-bedamned red sand and lack of shade. Outback Australia is not the place for me.

Prior to this, I was in Broome. I did not a whole lot in Broome. Or, to make myself feel better about not ever really getting off my ass while I was there, I indulged in "Broometime." Which is basically the local excuse for doing nothing. "The languid heat... just overwhelms you."

Or something of the kind.

I watched two violent and one disturbing movie while I was there. Two of them were a waste of time. Two were a waste of money. The aformentioned two movies overlap but are not the same set.

The movies were 300, TMNT, and Disturbia, if you're interested.

Prior to that I was in Exmouth. See my last blog.


And I seem to be having a banner time. Want to know more? Too bad.

Don't look at me like that. I'm tired, and and being sarcastic. I'll post a melancholy ranting blog somewhere else so as not to poison and disillusion you.

Travel Log Number Thirteen: Dreamtime
Exmouth, Australia 1530 07/04/2007 Saturday, local time.

I caught a bus from Perth on Tuesday morning. Well, it would have been Tuesday morning but the bus was two hours late, so we didn't actually leave until a tad bit after noon...

And then I spend the next 19 hours on a bus, until I got into Exmouth at 5:00 Wednesday morning.

I understand now why people thought the world was flat: Australia is. It's naught but sand and scrub to the horizon, and the great dome of the sky overhead, with the stars winking like pinpricks, offering a glimpse into the Light.

Or maybe I was just tired. The whole episode was like a fever dream, everything unbearably hot and sticky, and no relief or rest, just on and on through the night.

And then wandering in Exmouth just before dawn.

I didn't do all that much on Wednesday. Or Thursday, for that matter.

But Friday I hopped in a pool and learned how to use SCUBA gear. They called it a "DSD - Discover Scuba Diving" course. It was great.

Today was even better. I got to go on two 45 minute reef dives, and had the most fun probably of this trip [with perhaps the exception fo Mardi Gras...

It was a kick, being 12-14m underwater and being able to breathe. We saw whitetip reef sharks, all kinds of coral, sea snakes [the instructor petted one!], parrotfish, lionfish, scorpionfish, clownfish, anemones, octopi, and all manner of other brightly colored fishes medium and small.

The only downside was that I lost a contact out of one eye, and so half the reef at a time was blurry...

But I was, as a DMT put it [with accompanying hand motions], hooked.

And I am. I want to do more. Where do I sign? I can't afford it, but perhaps in a year or two, I'll go and see what kind of certificate I can snag.


Report: No girls, no booze, no shade, but plenty of fun. Would not want to live here, though. This is fall and the temp is about 35 degrees. [95 for those of you still thinking in Fahrenheit.]


Where next?

Perhaps Darwin. Though, being strapped for cash, I may stop in Port Hedland [I hear there's AU $30-40 an hour labor work to be had....]

Or see if I can bump up my airline ticket and come home early - I am broke and getting kind of sick of being away from people I know and enjoy spending time with... I'd like to relax; this whole trip I've felt harried. Perhaps better planning next time. [Yes mother, I know...]

Travel Log Number Twelve: Ungodly Hours
Perth, Australia 0230 01/04/2007 Sunday, local time.

It is 2:30 in the morning.

I made two mistakes tonight:

1) I went clubbing

2) I didn't leave by 11:30, and so I missed the last bus back to where I'm staying.

The consequences of the first mean that my wallet is empty. Fortunately, there was only about $50 in it, and a third of that was dinner.

The consequences of the second mean that I walked 3.5km home from the Claremont train station, because only trains were running and a taxi was too expensive. And, oh yeah, I had no money. See problem #1.

And the third problem is that again, I retired empty handed. Or empty-armed.

Maybe I need to work on my techinique. That or give up altogether. I know which some of you would prefer. ;)

Except that being lonely sucks.

Of course, so does being drunk or mauled or tired, I suppose.


Sleep. Tomorrow may or may not be meeting.

Time will tell.

Travel Log Number Eleven: There May Be 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover But There Are Only 8 Ways To Leave This Plane
Perth, Australia 2043 29/03/2007 Thursday, local time

You gotta love Australians. The tagline of todays' log is what the head steward said during my flight from Melbourne to Perth when talking about airplane safety in reference to the emergency exits.

Som of you will get it. Some of you will not.

Anyway.

When last we left our intrepid adventuring hero [me], I had just arrived in Adelaide and taken a rather long nap.

It was a very good nap. 7 hours, in fact.

That was Saturday.

Sunday and Monday [and to a lesser extent Tuesday] were all very similar to each to each other [but not to Saturday].

I went out, and saw the street performers. If I didn't like them, I went into a bookshop or a library or a museum. When I got bored there, I went and found more street performers.

There were acrobats and magicians [lots of magicians] and jugglers and kung-fu dancers and [my favorite] a knife-juggling stuffed-koala tamer. He was funny. And good. Him, I gave money to.

Well, I gave money to most of them. Just a dollar or two.

They were good, they made me laugh, and didn't give me too hard a time if I harassed them.

Tuesday night I went with my host to a barbershop group. No, we did not practice cutting hair. We sang. [Some better than others - ie, most of them better than me. But only because they knew the songs.]

It was great fun. Most demanding singing I've done in probably almost a year.

And then I packed up and went to bed late and got up early and got on a plane and slept until noon. Local time. So about... 6 hours? Maybe 5. [I'm now exactly 12 hours ahead of all you East Coast readers, and 14 hours ahead of my lone Mountain Time reader.]

And now I'm in Perth. Yay!

The beaches, as I said, are pretty damn good. I went to one today. Good water and sand color, nice expanse, not too many people. and a really nice tidal effect that lets you just sit in the water and float back and forth.

Or get dumped on your head if you're not careful. [Yes, I did this. No, I'm not proud or happy about it. Stop laughing.]

The people I'm staying with are pretty nice - but they have that cutting Australian sense of humor. Well, the wife does, seeing as how she's Australian. The man is pretty quiet, and a nice enough guy. [For an American... :P].

Tomorrow is planning. More of it. Yay.

Travel Log Number 10: Smooth Sailing to Van Dieman's Land
Adelaide, Australia 2200 24/03/2007 Saturday, local time.

Or, in other words, Tasmania.

I got on a ferry at 9:00 on Sunday morning, after a restful night at Friend's House Melbourne [from three in the afternoon to 6:30 the next morning] and a harrowing bit of confusion about which tram to take...

It was my first trip on a boat bigger than a harbor ferry, and I must say I had no problems - some people were actually "green around the gills." After a while, though, the novelty wore off, and it became just another form of transportation.

We landed in Devonport about 7:00, and I walked out of the harbor and onto a sort of promenade. I ordered and ate a pizza, and started asking a nice nearby couple how to get to the city center.

As it turned out, the city was about 4 kilometers away - two downriver to get to the bridge, and then two back, leaving me almost exactly across the river from the ferry terminal.

After talking to them for a while, they actually offered me a ride to the nearest hostel, which I gratefully accepted.

After spending the night in a low budget hostel, and getting up too late to catch the bus heading to Hobart [fortuantely or unfortunately, depending on how you look at the proceeding events], I checked my email and then headed over to the information center to see when the next bus might leave.

I struck up a conversation with a man who was about 25, and during the course of our conversation, he mentioned that his travelling party [consisting of him and his fiancee and his fiancee's best friend] were heading to Burnie, and oh yes, would I like a lift?

Certainly!

After a nice drive through the Tasmanian countryside, and a bit of a row about where exactly we were headed, we wound up in Stanley. Home of the Nut.

Which is a rock formation, for you sick-minded folk.

We walked around the top of it [I have some terrific pictures - I hope], and then headed down to the graveyard. Ivan and I headed to the pub - he had two beers, since he bought me one but I absolutely could not drink it - and then back to the hostel where we were staying.

We met a nice guy named Edward, who was from Amsterdam and worked as a customs officer there - he told some highly entertaining and amusing stories. Ask me sometime, since they would take up far too much space here.

The next morning we woke up early, and then drove for an hour to get south of Smithton, to the Dismal Swamp. The Dismal Swamp was decent enough, a lush, cool, overpriced bit of Tasmania - though I do have what I hope will be some excellent photos.

They let me off in Wynyard, where I caught a bus to Burnie and then to Hobart via Launceston.

Dinner was a funny experience - I tried the in-center cafe but they were all out of vegetarian options, so I had a nice walkabout around Launceston, trying to find a place to eat. I finally found a nice Indian restaurant, where I had some excellent curried vegetables, though in a bit of hurry. Curry in a hurry? My apologies. I am a but tired as of this writing...

At any rate, I arrived in Hobart about 8:00, at the Transit Center, which by the greatest of luck had a backpackers hostel on the second story, where I was to stay for the rest of my time in Tasmania.

Wednesday was not all that interesting - mostly just walking around the city, checking out the bookstores [I know, I know] and the sights. A bit of a... waste?

Thursday was the museum in the afternoon [I slept most of the morning], which had some nice bits - the stereotypical musty room of Aboriginal artifacts [I kid you not. I swear, I would have said it was there since Queen Victoria herself ruled in that country, were it not for the tags listing artifacts donated this century...], a nicely large bit about Australia's part in Antarctica, and a few rooms apiece of your standard natural history bit and paintings.

And a really nice display of furniture.

I know, I know. But it was all really, really gorgeous Huon pine.

Friday was a fun day. I had been talking to and hanging out with a man [about 65 or so] named Leslie, who was almost hands down one of the most fun people I've met this trip [after Ramon and all he did... maybe a tie? It's sorta different anyway...].

Let me give you an example. He came in about 5:00 on maybe... Thursday? And said, "I think God created summer. Do you know why?"

He meant, of course, because it's in summer that you get to see women in bikinis.

But he wasn't one of those old lecherous bastard types. No, he was nice and funny and generally a charming old rogue of a man.

Anyway. Friday, he and I caught a bus halfway up a mountain, and then walked down. We started out along a walking trail that followed the old Roman-style aqueduct, and through a park [Where we saw and I took pictures of some hiugh-school age foreign exchange students from Japan - they thought what I was doing was quite amusing] and then cut around the reservoir and up over a ridge and through some bush [absolutely stunning counrty, by the way] and then along a road and then through some more bush, and then through the Cascade Gardens that run alongside the river that runs through the city, and then back to the hostel.

A nice 9k walk if you ask me. [About 5 or 6 miles, for those of you still thinking in Imperial measurements... tsk tsk.]

And then I stayed up all night watching movies to catch my really early shuttle [which didn't show, grrr.] for my fairly early flight. Some really funny movies. From Dusk till Dawn - has to be the funniest movie I've seen in a while. I'd tell you what it's about but that would spoil it.

And so here I am in Adelaide, staying with some very nice Friends.

Sleep, Laundry, Food, Internet, Kindness.... all the essentials.

Travel Log Number 9: You Have No Idea How Lucky You Are
Melbourne, Australia 1320 17/03/2007 Saturday, local time.

You truly don't.

I guarantee you that no matter how much you think you appreciate what you have, you cannot truly appreciate what you have until you no longer do.

Food. Shelter. Warmth. Safety. Companionship.

Last night, I slept on the streets because I had nowhere else to go. A warm bed and the attached nicety of sleeping in relative safety were nowhere to be found. Oh, I didn't get mugged or even accosted, and I woke up with all of my clothes and wallet and virginities intact, but it is not a pleasant feeling. The only thing from the above list I didn't lack for was food, and that only because I had money.

I did spend a great couple of hours with a group of young people perhaps in their early or mid twenties on the steps of a church, singing to and for and with each other. They kept telling me they loved my voice... I'm almost starting to believe it.

Hallelujah, Slip Sliding Away, Hearts and Bones, Losing my Religion, Are there Angels... Nice, solid, heart-rending sad stuff.

So, after the expressed concern of several people [all female except perhaps for my father, I might point out], I have found a place to stay tonight. With the Quakers, at Friends House Melbourne.

I have very little new to report, except that Melbourne has some really nice free museums and such...

The Ian Potter gallery of Aboriginal art is fantastic, as is ACMI - the Australian Center for the Moving Image.

I went out pubbing Monday night with a roommate of mine from the hostel... Met this girl who my host was convinced wanted to have sex with me, but nothing came of it... Saw her again on Wednesday, and still nothing. Just friends. I swear.

But I will never forget my roommate and I being led on by these two girls, trying to find some food. They were searching for this one specific place, and from where we started it was quite a walk. At one point, my roommate said, "You know, if the tables were turned, and it was us leading you on with this whole 'just ahead' and 'around the next corner' bits, you would have been suspicious a long time ago." And he was right. There was also some foolery with a trolley [no, not a streetcar, a shopping cart], but we finally wound up eating pizza at 2:30 in the morning....

I am honestly trying to get postcards sent out, and ship some of these thrice bedamned books home...

Oh yeah. And my watch broke.

Travel Log Number 8: [Censored]
Melbourne, Australia 0400 11/03/2007 Sunday, local time

I apologize to you, dear readers, for not posting a regular update.

Thursday was a fun day.

Why? Two reasons:

1. I ate a cannoli. In memory, you might say. I know what it's supposed to taste like, but all I tasted was cough syrup. Or something.

2. I had no place to sleep - my host had kicked me out and the hostels were full. So I stayed up all night clubbing [I know, I'm getting to be a regular party animal. Trust me, after this morning, I'm quitting.] Then I got on a train to Melbourne and slept all day. That was Friday. Friday was sleeping.

So, here I am in Melbourne. It's a neat city. Saturday was the library and the used book stores [Don't even start] and the market and just walking around. Great Chinese and Thai food, for the record.

And then I went clubbing. Spent entirley too much money. I'm not kidding. I'mn not going to tell you how much because it's obscene. I swear I've gone through five hundred $AU since wednesday, and sadly I don't think I'm kidding. Now, it hasn't all been clubbing, really. Only just tonight, and that was still too much for my taste, and my wallet.

I'm done. Cold turkey.

Tomorrow is sleep and meet up with a CS friend for drinks [water, I assure you].

This morning/last night I went [censored]. In fact, just forget about this whole

[censored]

bit.

Monday and Tuesday were dicking around in Canberra trying to catch a bus to Batemans Bay. Wednesday was getting there and finding out that they don't do surf trips or camps until Saturday. That was a good hundred dollar day trip right there. I ate some pretty good pancakes and took a few photos.

Thursday was walking around Canberra. Not too much going on.

This week was kinda... scratch. As in diddly. As in, an utter waste.

Maybe I just need some sleep.



I feel burned out and lonely. I need water and sleep and to get reenergized about this trip.

Send me an email and remind me why I'm here.

Until then, warm and sunny [85-90 degrees and no humidity] greetings from down under, and a kiss to all of you. [Well, except for the guys].

I'm working on the postcards.

Did I mention I need sleep?

Travel Log Number 7: Straight But Not Narrow
Canberra, Australia 1800 05/03/2007 Sunday, local time.

It's a Sunday afternoon.

I'm having a God of Fall Days afternoon.

At any rate, I went back into Sydney this weekend for LGBTQ Mardi Gras with my host and his friend [both of whom are gay].

Friday was drving 3 1/2 hours to get there [it's so much fun driving in Australia...], settling into the hotel [Very posh - I'm not sure who my host's friend had to sleep with to get it, but he must have been a good lay...], and going out clubbing.

We wound up at a club called ARQ, and partied until 3:30 in the morning. It was a foam party, meaning that every so often the dance floor got covered in what was essentially soap suds.

It was basically a gay bar.

I wound up taking my shirt off, and got stares. And pinches. And pats. And gropes.

It was, as my host put it, "full on." Meaning that guys were giving each other blowjobs on the dance floor.

I got told several times that it was a pity I was straight, because I was "so cute."

We got back to the hotel about 4, and went to bed and slept until 1. We went swimming, I worked out in the hotel gym, we went out to a all and had lunch and a haircut [no, not at the same time...].

Then, by this time about 5:30, we went back to Oxford Street, to set up our milk crates and get ready for the Mardi Gras parade.
We interacted with three different groups of "randoms." The first was a gorgeous girl in a short teal dress and her shy gay friend with a skin-tight pink shirt. They left [to go get a drink??] with the promise that they'd be back, but I didn't see them again.

The second was a group of boys and girls [all about 17] who were drinking Well, the girsl were. Hard liquor. They left eventually because they coudn't see the parade, but they wanted to call me later and hang out. I totally could have gotten laid. I kid you not. But... not my type. That and she didn't call :P

The third was two ladies in their twenties, and I must say my friends hung out with them much more than I did.

The parade was visually spectacular. What do you want me to say? It was a two and a half hour parade with lots of gays and lesbians. I mean, topless dykes on bikes, to gay men wandering around with nothing more than glorified condoms on.

It was a celebration.

Then we went partying.

We waited in line for a club called Stonehall for almost an hour, and then went inside. We partied it up, went dancing, the whole works. Then a bouncer saw me just sitting down and told me to get some air. Basically, kicked me out because they thought I was on drugs.

I wasn't. I hadn't even had aything to drink.

Then my friends come out, and are like, " You totally have to meet this hot Czech chick - she really wants to meet you and is horny as hell. You could totally, you know, get with her." Or something like that.

So we get back in line, and after waiting around for maybe 15 minutes, the bouncers refuse us entry because we're too "intoxicated."

So my host calls her up and is like, can you come outside? And she came out.

And... she was alright. Just somehow not my type. And not really interested in me. But we go inside anyways. Sneak in in parts. I wind up talking to an extremely obese red-haired chick from Oregon. Hey - anything to get in...

I get inside. Finally. And Monica [the Czech chick] is nowhere to be found. So I go upstairs [its like, 3:30 or 4 by this point] [and oh yeah, te club has three levels], and start just hanging out.

I run into the girl in the short teal dress again. I start dancing with her. I strike up a conversation. She's 18 as well.

I spent an hour and a half with her.

We danced. We talked. We laughed. We kissed.

I told her she was gorgeous, and asked if I could take her home. But no, she was already very late, and had to take care of her friend besides. But otherwise, I believe she would have.

I know only her name.

And I will never see her again.

Travel Log Number 6: Hangin' Out
Canberra, Australia, 1630 27/02/2007 Wednesday, local time

Last night was the first time I've gone to bed before 3 in the morning since Friday. Maybe that's why I'm sick. The staying up, that is.

Or maybe it was all the shouting I did on Monday at my hosts' dinner party. It's very hard to talk over drunk people. But we had a good time. Started out with a rowdy before dinner party, turned into a boisterous dinner party, and became an insane after party.

We played a game that was a cross between Spin the Bottle and Truth or Dare: Truth, Dare, or Smooch. Yes, it had a bottle. No, I'm not going to tell you what happened. You can guess. Twenty somethings, booze, wee hours of the morning? Yeah.

No, there was no sex. Or drugs. Or stripping. Well, ok. There was stripping. But only above the waist. And only guys. And that's all I'm going to say. Though I will add that I was the soberest of the lot. Not even tiddly.

Today and Monday were work on accomodations and scholarship requests. (Yay. Boring.) Tuesday was get up late and go around town with a girl I met at the party (one of my hosts' friends). For the record, and all you people with nastily suspicious minds, she's married. We went to Screensound Australia [NationalArchive of Film andSound o something like that], and had some lunch. And possibly some other place, though I cannot remember where..

But I do have some pictures of Canberra.

Did I mention I was sick? Pisser of a sore throat. Makes it hard to have fun. Or kiss anyone...

Here's to hoping I get better.