Queenstown to Auckland

Time seems to be moving at a much slower pace than it was a few weeks ago. I can’t say I haven’t felt this before though as it was exactly this lingering feeling I had in Sydney almost a year ago. It’s slightly different though because now I am preparing for my inevitable departure home while back then I was looking forward to future travel plans. It is time though. My travels, I feel, have served their purpose and it is time to rejoin a life which was momentarily interrupted. I look forward to seeing familiar faces and places, visiting family and friends, seeing more of my own country, and feeling, in a word, home.
I’ll give an update on what I’ve been up to the past couple months and, if nothing else, remind myself a long time from now what I did (which I think is probably the real service of my blog). The winter season officially ended on October 6. The last day was supposed to be on the 3rd and then they changed it to the 11th and finally settled on the 6th. I made the analogy several times towards the end that it was like summer camp as a kid; everything was ending and we were all parting ways. There was a string of going away parties towards the end and with the ever changing end of season date there never seemed to an official end for us. I missed the end of season ball thrown by NZSki because I opted to host a lingerie show instead (I made the right decision based on everyone else’s description of the ball). I threw together a plan to drive up to Auckland and after a hurried final week of goodbyes and one-last-party get-togethers I packed my bag, picked up my car, said my own goodbyes to my flatmates and Lida, my dear roomy for the past several months who I’m sure I’ll see again, and hit the road north with my last minute travel partner Cherie, a nurse at Coronet who responded to my last minute call for anyone needing a ride north.
I left Queenstown on October 11 and headed north with my travel companion. I had put an ad in the Lakes Weekly Bulletin asking it anyone going north wanted a ride. Thankfully Cherie responded one day before I left and so I wasn’t left with the burden of paying for all the petrol by myself. We started out on Monday around noon and drove for about 4 hours through picturesque New Zealand countryside until we got to Methven, the home town of Mt. Hutt (NZSki’s third mountain) and the first place I had considered working way back when. Upon arriving I could not have been happier with my decision to work in Queenstown; Methven was a ghost town. Apparently it had been put this way due to the earthquake that hit Christchurch just over a month before which caused severe damage to the city which lay just to the north-east of Methven. There were two pubs in the center of town, the Brown Pub and the Blue Pub, and all around these two establishments lay empty streets with baron sidewalks guarded by darkened store windows. Granted we arrived there at dusk but still, there was nothing going on. So we procured a couple rooms at the local YHA and decided to check out the town’s social scene. We didn’t find it.
The next day we got up early and made the drive to Mt. Hutt to do what would be my last day of the season on a snowboard. The drive up was more hazardous than I imagined as we had heard stories all season long at Coronet of people driving off the road and plummeting to their ultimate demise some hundreds of feet below. In fact there was only one person this happened to and his car was still down there due to the impracticality of hauling it out during the winter. We had a great day on the slopes however and got to meet several of our company cousins there in the F&B Department as well as a few friends I randomly ran into who were up there for the day from Queenstown. We joined our distant co-workers for a drink later in town and eventually we made our way back to the Blue Pub, once again, where, it turned out, the social scene finally showed up if only by quite random and surprising circumstances. As Cherie and I were talking I glanced around to see one, then two, then three, then four of my now ex-bosses from Coronet. There, in a considerably altered state of consciousness and far from their home mountain, were the men and woman who ran the Coronet Peak; Hamish, the ski area manager, Speedy, the assistant ski area manager, Jenn who was my boss in F&B, and of course, James Coddington, the Codfather, the CEO of it all. It was fun to have a few drinks with them completely outside of work and the season. I got to have a heart to heart with Jenn who asked me to come back for next season but I told her that probably wasn’t in the play book. Cherie and I eventually said our goodbyes, left the Blue Pub, procured our rooms once again at the YHA, and woke up to find ourselves driving for the next seventeen hours to Wellington (I did however get to stop in Greymouth where I took the Monteith’s Brewery Tour…..I’ve had better).
After getting into Picton to find out the ferry to the north island was full, and after getting caught trying to take a cheeky shower at a local hostel, and after waiting standby for the ferry on the off chance we got on, and after watching The Curious Case of Benjamin Button on the ferry we finally did got on, we arrived in Wellington at 1:30am to meet my friend Lauren, a Tennessean I’d worked with back at Coronet, who’s amazingly nice apartment we got to crash at for what was left of the night.
The next day Lauren showed us a bit of Wellington where I bought a book at a second hand shop (and I do mean second hand, maybe even third hand) on 18th century English history and a CD of classical marches. We went to a museum on Maori history, had a bite to eat and hit the road just as the sun was setting. We found ourselves driving for the first time after dark which, due to the hurried lifestyle of little sleep over the past few days, required a continual exchange of driving duties. We made it to Ohakune by 9ish and Cherie had a friend who lived there and worked as the doctor up at Mt. Raupehu (my second choice of ski field to work at for the season and I was once again thankful that I had chosen Queenstown). The next day we laid low as the weather was not the best for a day on the mountain and I planned the rest of my trip to Auckland with a stop in the Tongariro National Park in order to hike the active volcano. The next day Cherie and I parted ways as she was staying in Ohakune for a few days while I needed to get to Auckland. I set out for the national park and after a few passes found it and set out on the hike. It took a roundtrip time of 4 hours to go up and come down but it was unbelievably worth it. The hike was exhausting, the climb seemed never ending, but the views were spectacular. I deviated from the trail towards the top and climbed a summit of mangled rocks. I made it to the top and could hardly believe the site of my surroundings. There, right beside me, was Mt. Doom. Even after a season working on a mountain this was by far one of the best views I’d had.
Once done with the side trip I found myself driving a long road north, eventually arriving in Auckland late in the afternoon. As I approached the city I could see the Sky City Tower appear behind the other buildings. The tower is the sort of land mark for the city of Auckland and it closely resembles the towers of Seattle and Toronto. The idea I had of what the city would look like was more of something resembling a large town with a few buildings. I had even asked a friend if Auckland had highways to which he replied, “They’re called motorways.” (Also, on a side note, sidewalks are called footpaths). But Auckland is indeed a proper city with all the amenities you’d think a city should have. It slightly reminded me of Sydney but on a slightly smaller scale.
And so, I reached one of the lasts major stops of my travels. I had given myself 6 weeks to find a job, find an apartment (which it turned out was not a feasible thing to do), and save some money before beginning the journey home via Fiji and Hawaii. After being here a few days I was reminded very much of my time in Melbourne and Sydney as I was practically doing to the exact same thing again: starting over. Thankfully a few friends from Coronet had come up here as well so I at least had a few mates around when I needed them. However, everything else was new and I had to find my way around the city with a map, learn where the grocery stores were (I still can’t find them), and learn how to maneuver the local job website. It’s been a familiar feeling to start from scratch in each place over the past year and so it was nothing new for me, it was actually getting slightly old. Since I got here 2 weeks ago, I have indeed found a job at a fine dining restaurant called Clooney and come to the realization that I’d rather stay in a hostel for another month than tell my would-be flatmates that I had to leave only 4 weeks after getting there and hope they give me my bond back. I am biding my time though and counting down the weeks. I am looking forward to seeing Boston again and all my friends and family. And of course I can’t wait to see the look on Dad’s face when I show up unannounced just in time for Christmas. It’s been a good trip and I do think that the reason I came away has been justified. I have a plan for the next two years and when I get back the only thing I’ll have to do is implement it. Shouldn’t be too hard right? This will be one of the last blogs I’ll write while out here and so I feel it necessary to remind myself 50 years from now what a young me was doing with his life. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned while traveling it is this: even if home is where you make it and no matter where I live in the world, I have family and friends that make home worth coming back to.

Queenstown is an oasis in a desert of mountains in the middle of nowhere. And after living here for about a month and a half I can both feel its isolation and its intimate nature. The town’s big winter celebration, Winterfest, just ended which concluded a weeklong celebration of the coming winter season. People flooded in from all over, Australia being the #1 overseas representative. The Prime Minister of New Zealand, John Key, was also here for a while as well. Now the school holidays have come and both Australia and New Zealand ‘schoolies’ flock to Queenstown for the skiing and boarding as well as the night life. You might be able to draw some comparisons, of course on a different scale entirely, between Queenstown and Las Vegas. Only here you have to wear thermals.

Working and living in a ski town is and isn’t exactly what I expected but then again nothing really ever is what you expect it to be. The work aspect of it is simple enough and anyone who’s ever worked in hospitality of any kind knows the terrain. Loads of people flock to the mountain every morning, depending on weather conditions. All of us who work up there get up when it’s dark and get home when it’s dark. This was something that took adjustment as I was always tired for the first few weeks regardless of how exhausting the day was.

The mountain itself is divided into departments and there isn’t too much inter-departmental mingling since work begins and ends within your group. I am in the Food and Beverage Department, conveniently referred to as F&B. You’ve also got the Lifties, Maintenance, Janitors, Admin, Mascots, Snow Patrol, Instructors and Guest Services. It’s a good mix of people from all over, or better put a good mix of people from the UK, US, AU, and NZ, basically all the English speaking countries. There a couple South Americans but they’re not as heavily represented. Within F&B there’s also another two divisions consisting of FOH and BOH, or rather service and kitchen. Everyone brings their own personality to the mix and at times the dynamic can resemble that of high school; everyone comes in the first day for orientation, we’re taught where to go and what to do, further divided up into smaller groups, people vying for certain roles be it the party animal, the laid back individual, the class clown, and so forth. Sometimes it can be exhausting as most of the people are younger than me and have what I can only describe as more youthful energy than I. I make myself sound a lot older than I actually am. In this way it is not exactly what I expected.

Then there are the things I’d been looking forward to ever since I left: free season pass to snowboard all winter, picturesque views from the slopes, work parties, and heaps of good food. I must say of this one place in town that it might be one of the better burgers I’ve ever had. It’s called Fergburger and despite what everyone calls their ‘massive burger’ I would say it’s about the size of an average big burger in the States. Of course between all of this I would have to say the full season of snowboarding has me the most excited. There are two mountains in Queenstown, both owned by NZSki. Coronet, the one I work at, and The Remarkables are totally different mountains which is a nice way to switch it up now and again. I’ve already progressed a good deal and can ride switch, drop in, jump big kickers and do board grabs, and coast at accelerated speeds. And despite all this I have not become the quintessential snowboarder dude which is exactly the opposite of my nature to do.

As for the day to day operations of my life in Queenstown it mainly consists of three things up till now: working, drinking and snowboarding. And as fun as this all sounds it can get old fast. So after a month and a half there’s some of us who are looking into other options of spending our time. Some guys from the kitchen and I play poker after paydays, I’m starting to play basketball again with Jack from the kitchen (which to no surprise reiterated how out of shape I am). I am also looking into swimming laps at the local pool and starting up yoga classes. Of course this all, including all the good food, completely depends on the price as Queenstown is one of the most expensive places in New Zealand.

I am currently living in a house just outside of town, about a 20 minute walk from here. This has proven to be quite a hassle so in less than a week’s time I am moving to a new apt with Mitch and Taylor, a Kiwi couple I work with, and another co-worker, Lida. Being outside of town has limited, only somewhat, how often I get into town and so a closer to town location should prove a bit better.

Among the places we find ourselves most often are a handful of bars in the town center. These are usually the places that offer drink specials, like Fraser’s $2.50 handles on Wednesday night or Montieth’s Recession Session where the handles are $3.00 every Thursday night. There’s also Brazz, Revolver, World Bar and Winnies that are common gathering places.
One of our favorite forms of entertainment at work is to try and put on the other’s accent which is never found to be satisfactory to the one being copied. I think that on occasion my northern English accent is spot on but they don’t always agree. There are loads more cultural exchanges from slang to common English words that one country uses but others never attempt. I’ve started saying ‘keen’ which the English, Aussies, and Kiwis use but you almost never hear it in the US. I also can’t stop saying ‘chips’ in the Kiwi accent which are of course fries and kind of pronounced as ‘chups’. There’s also sweet as, keen as, taking a piss, on the piss, on the lash, bugger all, and bobbydazzler. There is a funny video on Youtube of a beached Kiwi whale who is talking to a seagull which takes a piss out of the Kiwi accent (I’m beached as bro).

And so within in this small town there is certainly a large quantity of diversity which does tend to keep it lively. I try and balance everything out between working, playing, and relaxing. I’ve been reading several biographies on American Independence figures as well as watching as many movies as I can from my roommate’s boyfriend’s hard drive. Still there are 2 and a half months to go in the season and I’m sure there is plenty more to come. I am very much looking forward to Ole’ Jude’s visit in August when we will go bungee jumping for her birthday. And so since my life is fairly routine this will probably be one of just a few posts this winter season. I tentatively have plans to travel to Fiji and Hawaii in Nov/Dec. so we’ll see what happens. I first have to secure the means to do so. So in this sense movies and books sound like a good plan. The hard part is sticking to it.

Making My Way Into New Zealand

After leaving Townsville I had basically 1 day to spend in Cairns before I caught a flight down to Melbourne and then, 1 day later, jumped on a plane to Christchurch, New Zealand. Unfortunately I did not get to see much of Cairns as time was of the essence but from what I did see I can say that it would have been a place I’d of stayed longer otherwise. However, my stay consisted of preparing to leave the country (confirming flights, repacking bags for the plane, getting the appropriate documentation ready, etc.) and hanging out with the stragglers from previous towns who managed to find themselves in Cairns at the same time I was. So, after several pre-emptive goodbye parties I met up with Jared, Lisbeth, Merete, Rachael and Fiona (two Brits from the boat) and had a FINAL goodbye drink.
The next morning I boarded a plane to Melbourne and, after landing, I got to experience the feeling I’d had 6 months ago when I first landed in Australia. It seems so long ago and what a strange feeling it was. I remember asking someone where a CVS might be and they looked at me like I had two heads. The same streets, the sights, the same hostel even. I was to stay two nights which gave me some time to get my snowboard and golf clubs from Chris, who I’d worked with at Greco when living in Melbourne, and see Andy and Oscar, two English guys I’d worked with as well. After some headache determining what to do with my clubs I decided to leave them with Chris for a later date of departure.
Later that night I went down to see good old Andy and Oscar at their flat in St. Kilda. Since Oscar would be taking a night off Andy and I went out for drinks and did some catching up. I, once again, ended up sleeping on their couch since the trams stopped after a certain hour and even though it had been about 4 months since the last time I had slept on it, sleeping on a couch is something like riding a bike, you never forget how to get comfortable.
And so, after one more night I said my goodbyes and went to my hostel this time to sleep a bit before getting on yet another plane. The feeling of something totally new seems to be, for me at least, exclusively related to Melbourne as it came right back to me as I lugged my bags to the airport. Once I got through security (they made me give up my nice pair of scissors!) I relaxed a bit before boarding. And although I was about to leave a place of familiarity for one of uncertainty I was not so much nervous rather than excited. And the view from the window as we cruised over the mountainous terrain of New Zealand’s west coast made the excitement that much more palpable.
Snow capped mountains, jagged landscapes and, after 10 minutes, the patchwork fields of pastures filled with crops and grazing sheep filled the view. It was just an amazing sight to see something that I’ve only heard of for quite a while. I landed in Christchurch and made my way into the city. Right away I noticed that it was cheaper here than in Australia and, with the exchange rate, very agreeable. The city of Christchurch is said to be more European than Europe and I can see why. An old Cathedral stands at the center of the city in a square of granite bricks. The architecture seems like something out of a Charles Dickens novel but with a touch of modernity. Old trams cruise the streets and intricate fountains and parks shaded by strange trees are scattered in various corners of the city. Little pubs and cafes are everywhere and, if only a little bit, it reminds me of Boston. But in a different way.
I’ve decided to start getting into shape in preparation for the ski season so that I am not as old as I feel once on the slopes. For the past two days I’ve been running in the morning and the legs are a bit sore. On the second morning I was running up the sidewalk and heard a crash on the road beside me. Running over I found a women bleeding from the eyebrow as she had gotten her tire stuck in the tram track and tumbled over. Another guy close by called an ambulance (and it’s not 911 here. In fact, I don’t even know what the emergency number is here!) and her husband was there to help her. I felt tempted to add some of the limited knowledge that I accumulated during my university days but decided it probably wasn’t practical and that I should just help in some other capacity. And so, after telling her that it didn’t look to deep as it wasn’t bleeding too much I waited for the ambulance with them and put her bike in a good Samaritans garage for storage. This, along with one other guy stopping me on the street and asking me, ‘Are you that guy?’ was my interesting encounter in Christchurch. The guy on the street was referring to a Canadian TV personality who I apparently look like. And after a delightful chat with him (he’s having twins and his friend’s wife just gave birth to their first) he told me to enjoy Christchurch. I am definitely enjoying it so far.
And so my arrival into a new country was successful and I am yet again excited about the coming months. After figuring out some of the logistical problems that come along with changing countries (new currency, new SIM card for the phone, new accent to understand, and new brands to get to know) I will head down to Queenstown where I have an interview for a position at the Coronet Ski Resort for the winter. I do really want this position but if it is not meant to be then I will travel north, stopping to see the glaciers and some of the spectacular sights I keep hearing about, and make my way onto the north island where I will settle into Ohakune, a small town a short drive from Mt. Reuphau, where I have already been given a position at that ski resort. It’s nice to have options. We’ll see what happens.

Magnetic Island and the Full Moon Party

In the preceding days leading to up to my arrival on Magnetic Island I was told by loads of backpackers that they were headed there as well for a Full Moon party. I’d heard of these parties but mainly those that take place in Thailand. I assumed that this would be of a different sort as almost nothing that goes on in Thailand goes on anywhere else in the world.
When I got to the island it was after dark and I hopped on a high speed ferry, and this thing was high speed, and went to the hostel by bus once I got to the island. The hostel, a YHA, was like a resort for backpackers; there were bungalows to sleep in, an outdoor covered patio as the lounge, a pool with hammocks around it, a bridge over a small stream, tons of parakeets flying to and fro. The place had a very tropical feel to it and I can easily say that it was like a vacation within a vacation.
The first couple days on the island I laid low and took care of some housekeeping that needed to be done for the rest of the trip north. As the weekend approached though, the Full Moon party was on Friday, the island started to get a tad busier as travelers started to fill the rooms. I moved to a different hostel on the island called Base which was where the party was taking place. This hostel was right on the beach with a pool overlooking the ocean which had a distant view of the mountainous mainland. All along the coast of the island were gorgeous beaches and massive piles of boulders that had accumulated from the cliffs above.
The island itself was anything but flat; once when on the bus I thought we were about to roll backwards as the bus came to almost a complete stop while trying to climb one of the roads. The feeling as akin to that of a roller coast right when you are getting to the top and about to take the plunge. The bus driver threw it into first gear though and inched the rest of the way up. There were plenty of walking trails and lookout points on the island and I traversed one of them, the Forts Walk, with two lovely Norwegians, Lisbeth and Merete, and a Dutch guy, Max, who was on the boat with me around the Whitsunday Islands. The view from the top was incredible as, once you finally get up there you are greeted by an old WWII lookout fort. We climbed to the top of the fort and could literally see for miles and miles. The islands terrain behind us was lush and green with mountains jutting up at random. The ocean before us spread out to the horizon in a blue hue that transitioned into the sky.
That same day there were some new arrivals to the island which included Leigh, Bianca and Becky from the original northward traveling group as well as Jared who had been on the island a couple days already. It was the night before the Full Moon party though that set the tone as Max, Lisbeth, Merete and a few other Irish folks played trivia in the hostel. Since our group was larger than most we decided to split into two groups and share answers in hopes of a 1-2 finish. The prizes were worth it though as the winners received a $75 bar tab, 3 Full Moon tickets and a mini-car rental. We played valiantly and after several rounds which included random bouts of karaoke battles, chugging contests and a host of sports, pop-culture and music questions we were declared the winners and our co-team was the second place finish. We combined our prizes and shared the bounty. So the next day, Friday, myself, Lisbeth, Max and Merete cruised around the island in our mini car checking out the views, seeing some wallabies and taking a dip in the ocean. Once the night fell it was time to get ready for the party.
Once the group got together at Base we all shared stories of our past days on the road as we hadn’t seen each other for about a week. The party had a bit of the feel of what I would imagine a luau in Hawaii to feel like, without the pig roast though. The night went on and we all slowly left for in the morning I would be leaving to stay in Townsville for a night and see the Rugby game I had been wanting to see for quite some time.
I got to Townsville the next day and made my way to the hostel I had booked. It would turn out to be the worst hostel I had stayed at so far on this trip as the room had bugs (two types), a mattress that sunk to the floor, and a reception that was closed exactly when you need them to be open. But I made my way to the Rugby game via bus that night and once I got into the stadium took in the sight of my first rugby stadium and field… I thought it was going to be a lot bigger.
I would describe the stadium, at least this one, as equivalent to a division two college football stadium. The stadium maybe held around 22,000 people and only had one tear of grandstands. The game itself though was very fun to watch as I tried to understand the rules, which I did for the most part. I have to say it is somewhat lacking in dynamics though as the players only try to run the ball strait into the opposing team and can only lateral the ball to a player on either side. There were some good hits though as a couple players got popped right when the ball was passed to them. The teams, The North Queensland Cowboys and the Melbourne Storm, were not evenly matched as the Storm, a team recently smeared with a huge salary cap scandal, stomped the Cowboys something to the tune of 36 to 6. The Storm however were not playing for anything as their season points were stripped from them and even if they win the Grand Final it won’t count.
After the game I got on the bus and went back to the hostel for the night as I would be leaving in the morning, a morning which would turn out to be the most frustrating and hurried morning of my trip which only added onto the bad experience of staying in this hostel. But after I finally got to the bus completely drenched in sweat (Jared, who was on the bus, said it looked like I had just gone for a swim in the river) I sat next to some poor Swiss girl, who must have smelled me when I got on the bus let alone once I sat down next to her, and was happily on my way out of Townsville and headed for Cairns.

Sailing the Whitsunday Islands

After another bus ride I found myself in Airlie Beach, a picturesque seaside town which is a fairly large tourist attraction. It has two sides to it, one being the industries aimed at proper tourists who are on vacation and then the one aimed at backpackers on more of a budget. The town itself has a main street with all the hostels, bars and food shops along the drag and the bay is just within site. Ships filled the bay as they moored in the distance. Marine, Jared, Bianca and I, the last of what was left from the original group, were booked for a 3 day, 2 night sailing trip around Whitsunday Island and the smaller surrounding islands. The boat was named Apollo and was about 20 meters long. The last time I went on a trip like this I ended up spending the majority of the trip in the bathroom. I was hoping for a slightly different outcome this time.


We explored a bit of the town and got supplies (goon) for the sail and 'tried' to go to bed early. We don’t always succeed in doing that however and this night was no different. Waking up around 7am we made our way to the bay and were given the intro about the boat and made our way on deck. The Apollo used to be a racing boat back in the 80s but most racing boats have a lifespan of 7 or so years. So there were some amenities that had been added to the boat since then but everything down below still looked pretty streamlined to me. Bunks lined the walls with a kitchen in the middle of the boat. Everything was smaller and tucked in every available space. With 25 people taking the journey the boat was filled to the gills. The weather forecast didn't look so hot and rain was looming. The boat made its way out of the port and out to sea and we were starting to get excited. We were sailing!


Our first stop was in a little inlet where we prepared to go scuba diving on some reef. I did some snorkeling first and could hardly believe the site as thousands of colors filled the surrounding space just below the surface of the water. Brilliantly colored fish would swim past me as if I wasn't even there. Huge plumes of coral were everywhere as well as various organisms of all shapes and sizes that I've only learned about. It was simply incredible to see it up close. When it was my turn to go diving I put on the gear and went under with the instructor, Marine and two others. It felt somewhat unnatural to breathe underwater but I got used to it. We went down about 10 meters and swam around the coral. It was like another world down there.


The next day we did some ‘real sailing’ and myself and some of the other guys went to the front of the ship, hung our legs off the deck and road the waves as we crashed into, over and under them. We made a stop at Whitehaven Beach which is one of the most pristine beaches in the world. The sand was almost pure white and was 98% silica. The smaller islands were scattered in the distance as we looked out from atop a cliff. We made our way down to the beach and had some fun in the water and goofed around while some taking pictures. We capped off the day with some more snorkeling where I saw the biggest fish up close I’ve ever seen and then had dinner on the boat. The food throughout the trip was amazing and it was probably the best I’d eaten in a couple weeks. At night we broke out the goon and played games on deck late into the night. Since everyone comes from different corners of the world everyone brings different takes and rules for the games we played. Good times for all.

The last day we stopped at a sandbar and did a spot of snorkeling again which is when I spotted the first sea turtle of the trip. That was simply incredible as he was hiding on a huge piece of coral and we would swim down and pet him. We tried to keep up with him once he left but they are just too fast to swim with. We then got a game of soccer going on the sandbar where Jared and I, the only two Americans, showed our ineptness at the game which Europeans know so well. But apart from being fairly out of shape and not playing soccer since I was about 10 years old I did pretty well. I even made an attempt at a bicycle kick which sailed wide of the goal. In retrospect I shouldn’t have attempted that maneuver as my body was paying for it the next day.

As we started to make the homeward journey we found ourselves in a race with one of the other boats heading home as well. Siska was her name and even though they got the early lead we ended smoking them by a good distance. There was some jeering from both sides as we went by which consisted of them throwing some sort of biscuits at us and culminated with us everyone on our boat mooning them. As we passed them the second time one of the crew members, Benny, took a bag of our trash and prepared to throw it in the dingy that trailed behind their boat. This was a risky move however since if you missed the dingy we had to swing the boat around to pick it up, which could take 30 minutes and effectively put us out of the race. So when they saw him approaching the front of the boat with a bag of garbage in his hand they quickly tried to pull in the dingy by the rope to get it out of throwing range. Benny took aim from the very tip of the bow and as the boat rocked in the waves prepared to hoist the bag about 5 meters into the dingy. The throw went farther than expected and hit the front lip of the dingy, bounced back just a tad and into the front section of the dingy. Everyone on our boat erupted in cheers as it wasn’t just a bag of trash that was thrown into their boat but rather a moral victory as we saw this little competition as a battle between our boat and theirs or, rather, good and evil. And I am happy to say that good prevailed.


After getting back on dry land I found myself swaying when I stood still. I think it was my body assuming that I was still on the boat and needed to counteract the rocking of the waves. That night we all met up at a bar called Phoenix where the crew joined us. We formed a circle and had a dance off after a few and the night was effectively underway. The rest, as they say, is history. Next stop: Magnetic Island for my first Full Moon Party.

This is what I pictured

The past couple weeks have been what I thought Australia would be like; long beaches of white sand, crystal clear blue water with huge ripping waves, little beach towns and amazing people. And of course, koalas and kangaroos.

Once the group and I got past Brisbane a couple of us split up momentarily and I went to Noosa with Marine and Jared. Noosa is a small town right on the beach with what I would describe as a lush tropical forest right behind the beach. The hostel we stayed at reminded me a bit of something from New Orleans. It had open verandas with old wooden floors and white walls. Whindy hallways and stained glass windows leading out to the patio with tiki torches around the perimeter. It had been raining, and continued to once we got there, which gave the green backdrop a glistening affect and really played up the rain forest feel. The first night we were there we went down to the beach and I cannot describe how the sky looked and do it justice at the same time. It seemed as if millions of stars were within view and every nanometer of the sky littered with white. And to top it off, not only did we have light from above but light from below as well. Every step we took revealed hundreds of bio luminescent algae scattered throughout the beach. They glowed green and reacted to vibration so as we walked below the starry sky our path was lit by thousands of glowing dots. That was just amazing to see.

While in Noosa I met Scott, Becky and Leigh at the Australia Zoo, aka The Steve Irwin Zoo, and I finally got some up close and personal interactions with some Aussie wild life. In the morning I got to feed an elephant and later I fed the kangaroos. The kangaroos were so friendly as they were all in a big field and you would just walk through it and go up to anyone of them and feed and pet them. I also got a picture holding a koala; they have unbelievably sharp nails but they are so soft and cuddly, just like little teddy bears. Of course we went to the crocaseum, the place where Steve always did his croc demonstrations, and saw a wild life show with birds, snakes and, of course, crocs. After our tiring day roaming around the zoo I went back to Noosa and they to their destination. We would all be back together in Rainbow Beach though as this was the jumping off point for our 3 day 2 night camping trip on Fraser Island.

When we all got to Rainbow it was raining and we were a little worried that our trip was going to get rained on the entire time. But the morning of our departure the sun was shinning and the temp was hot. We loaded up the 4x4 and hit the road, catching the ferry to the island and then driving 60 ks on the long beaches. That was simply amazing as we looked out the windows and saw the thunderous waves crashing down no more than 20 meters from us and then the sand dunes on the other side. We drove on the beach and then went inland to Lake Mackenzie. The road was pretty bumpy but more than worth it as the lake was something you see from a postcard. The light blue edge of the water gave way to a deep dark blue as the bottom of the lake bead plunged way down to the deepest part of the lake. The water was warm and we all played in it like little kids.

Camping followed that night and we made burritos and went to bed after a walk on the beach where there was more of the glowing sand and starry skies. Our second day we went up to Indian Head which was a huge cliff overlooking the water way down below. It was kinda scary looking over as it was probably a 100 ft drop down to the waves below. Exploring the island by day and cooking by night we made the most of it and had a good party with the other groups for our last night. The rain held off until our last night and we all woke up in a puddle of water and dripping tents. We hurried to pack everything as the rain was bearing down on us and finally made it out of camp, the last group to go. Once we got back to the ferry, which we missed and waited for the next one, we made our way back to the starting point and everyone had what we all described as "the best night's sleep" we've had since starting the trip. It was a great trip and great memories. Fraser Island is really one of Australia's gems.

There weren't even snakes on the plane but I jumped anyway

For some reason the night before I could not sleep. Its strange but I haven't really been able to sleep since I started the trek north but it hasn't seemed to effect me much. But the reason I couldn't sleep last night was not due to the fact that in the morning I would be hurling myself out of a perfectly good airplane from 14,000 feet. I think that it was because I had spent most of the day on the beach and hadn't showered before I went to bed; the first and last time I'll ever do that. And so I woke up at 6am, evidently I fell asleep at some point, and began to get ready for what was sure to be an eventful day. But despite the realization that I was going to skydive in less than a couple hours I was not nervous. The realization had just not set in yet.

We got to Byron Bay a couple days ago (Marine and I as well as a group of other travelers that are on the same route north that we've kinda ganged up with) and decided to finally do what we've been planning to do for quite sometime. After selling an organ I was finally able to pay for it and we were scheduled for the next morning. A couple of the other guys, Jared from Denver and Scott from Edmonton, decided to jump as well so we had a good group for the plunge.

A bus picked us up in front of our hostel and we scooped up everyone else around Byron and headed for the air field. We filled out the necessary paper work which basically stated that they were not liable in the case of our death and so we all signed away our lives. We were fitted for our gear by one of the grumpiest ladies (the only problem with the company as I saw it as everyone else was nice as pie) and waited for our turn as we watched two other groups go before us. We all got the video camera option for our dive so the camera men started interviewing us before we got in the plane. And through all this I was still not nervous as the reality of what I was about to do still had not set in.

After we were all in the plane we all shared excited and nervous looks as the plane rose into the sky and over the ocean. The flight time up to the drop altitude took about 10 minutes and the tandem instructor strapped me into his harnesses and gave me final instructions. The view from 14,00ft is amazing. The green landscape turned into distant mountains and disappeared into the horizon. And despite this unbelievably peaceful and serene view, I was starting to get nervous.


The door opened. Marine was first as she had selected the 11,000ft altitude but since she was the only one they just decided to go strait to 14000ft. Less than 10 seconds later, she and her instructor were free falling towards the ground. At the sight of them rolling out of the plan nervousness started to take a firm hold of me. And then about 2 seconds later I got really nervous as my instructor said, "Lets go!"


We sat down on the floor and moved to the ledge. I dangled my legs outside of the plane and braced for the next step. This was the second scariest part of the jump. Sometimes I'll have bad dreams or day dreams about standing on the ledge of a tall building or falling from an extremely elevated point only to come back to reality and be thankful that my feet were still on the ground. But now, I was willingly putting myself in that very same position, and this was very real.


When we leaped out of the plane, it is hard to describe the feeling but the best way I could do it would be to say that it was the most unnatural feeling I've ever had. All my instincts kicked in as I naturally wanted to right myself or hold onto something or stand on a firm object. I don't remember seeing anything when we first jumped except maybe the sky, but not the plane or the ground. He released the initial stabilizing chute and we opened our arms. I was face to face with the ground from 14,000ft and closing fast.

It is the strangest and most surreal feeling to be falling for 60 seconds. In retrospect it seemed about half as long. I always imagined that when the chute was pulled it would be like hitting a wall or something but it was actually quite smooth. We then coasted down for about 5 minutes and did some spiral dives as I got to steer the chute for a bit. We landed in the field where we took off and when you get to around 500 ft. you can really see everything take shape. People become visible and the trees become more vivid. As we came to a running stop my instructor unharnessed me and my camera man asked me how it was: I couldn't really do it justice as I tried to say how amazing it was. Plus I was a little winded, no pun intended.

Heading North

I don't know if I'll ever make it back to Sydney but the two and a half months I spent there were enough. Nothing against the city, I loved Sydney as it reminded me of city living in Boston except much much bigger, but it was just time to move on.

And so it came to pass that I find myself in Port Macquarie in the smallest hostel I've stayed at so far. It's size is not a mark against it though as it's size it what makes it so great. It almost feels like I'm in the middle of nowhere camping and this is just shack in the woods. The town itself is a little beach town, just like something out of the movies, with a small town center with a shopping center, liquor store and restaurants. The hostel is situated on top of the elevated part of the town which gives the distinct advantage of having amazing views of the beach as it curves into the horizon. Cliff jumping is on the agenda for today and later a visit to the koala hospital is scheduled for later in the afternoon.

Before this stop I was in Newcastle which was a beach town as well but a little bit larger. Newcastle is a college town and on the Wednesday night that I went out to the local hot spot I was reminded after talking with an exchange student from Illinois that Newcastle University was actually one of the places I had looked at going to for a semester abroad. While there I took a tour of the WWII for, Fort Scratchley, which was attacked by a Japanese submarine. The fort and town were bombarded by the sub from behind Nobby's Point but none of the shells exploded as it is thought that the Japanese were using old English artillery from WWI which was defective. The town though was gorgeous and had a lot of character to it. The hostel was like something out of The Great Gatsby as it had a large lounge of stained wood and leather chairs with a central fireplace. A large central staircase led to the upstairs and the rooms were located along the whindy hallways. My room had a veranda that was joined by two other rooms and had a trellis over the top. I got to know the cleaning crew there, basically other travelers that work for free but get free accommodation, and we all shared stories and laughs. The only downside to meeting these people is that a few days after meeting them I have to leave, most likely never seeing most of them ever again.

The next stop is Urunga which is just a bit off the coast and is on the edge of a rain forest region. The hostel is supposed to be really nice with hammocks on the second story decks and bridge walks through the rain forest. I am trying not to spend too much money thus yet as most of the stuff I want to do is north of Brisbane. But the best thing about the YHA hostels that I'm staying at is that they always have tons of free stuff to do (perfect for travelers on a budget).

Here in Port Macquarie I've met a guy from Canada and two English girls and we played Monopoly last night. I haven't played that game in years and I had to be reminded of some of the rules. It all came back to me though and with a little improvisation on all our parts regarding the rules my partner and I came out victorious. All the names of the places on the board are different as it is an Australian version. So Boardwalk was Mayfair and so on. We are going fishing later as well, something I haven't done in years again, and then I leave tomorrow.

I am loving this part of the trip.

Last Week In Sydney

The past month has been something of a blur as most of my time was spent at work or walking to and from work. Late nights turn into late mornings which never leave enough time to do anything other than wake up and go right back to work the next day. I'm a bit sad that after finding a job I like and developing a base that I have to hit the road again. But not sad enough I guess.

In all honesty it hasn't been all work and no play as that would make for a very dull boy. The crew I work with never seems to offer a dull moment or a dull personality. As in any restaurant you have your interesting characters and the not so interesting ones. So maybe there is one or two dull personalities there but overall I'm a fan. The other night we had to clean the beer lines from the keg cooler which involved staying after and making sure the excess beer was 'properly' disposed of. The only downside to the job is that on Tuesday mornings I have to get up at 5:30am to restock the keg room. Carrying full kegs down two flights of stairs at daybreak is quite the rude awakening and has proven to be rather exhausting after a late night. But on the bright side, I am in better shape than I used to be so that ain't bad. I also got a nice work shirt which is the uniform and would actually be a shirt I would, and probably will, wear out one night.

I've also been doing other stuff in my time off. Seeing a movie here and there or simply buying bootlegged DVDs from a shady Thai movie store for $2.50 a DVD. I've got a nice little collection now and I'm sure they'll come in handy on the trip north (The Hurt Locker, Couple's Retreat, Year One, The Road to name a few). It's really too bad that I can't bring them home with me as they are not compatible with American DVD players. I went to a conference with some men from the church I've been to and they're a great group of guys. Today, I have a poker tourney lined up and although it's been some time since I've played maybe it'll all come back to me.

There's also another job that I occasionally work. I'm basically the guy on call whenever he needs someone to fill a shift. It is at a breakfast cafe in Circular Quay in an office building in the lobby. It is fairly small and the best part is that I get paid under the table or, as they say here, it's cash in hand. The guy who runs it is a Vietnamese man named Martin. Every time he calls me he leaves a voicemail saying his full name and where he is calling from (Mirebelle Cafe). It's quite funny every time I listen to it because I can't say there are many people with a Vietnamese accent who call me. Much less someone with a Vietnamese accent named Martin. Much much less from Mirebelle Cafe. In fact, I believe he is probably the only one. But without fail he never neglects to fully identify himself to perfection so that there is no way I could ever mistake him.

But with a week to go I've finished making preparations for the trip and will board a bus next Monday, March 22. A friend I used to work with in Melbourne is coming to travel with me so I won't have to ask random strangers to take a picture for me. Won' t that be nice? I also can't wait to move out of my flat as one of the roomies is really testing my patience. One more week though. One more week.

Biding my time

Like most backpackers that travel through Australia when you stay in a certain place for a decent amount of time it becomes necessary to get a job. So after being the quintessential tourist for a few weeks and getting my fill of surfing, beach and barbecues I decided it was time to get a job. However, the job I did ended up with was not ideal.

We've all been stopped on the street at one time or another by a young guy or gal in a brightly colored shirt and told about the terrible situations going on in the world. They always make eye contact when you're about ten yards away in order to get your attention and then give you a sob story. Then they hit you with the donation part and, if they've done it right, you feel obligated to pull out your wallet and fork over some cash (that is unless you've dealt with them before). Yes, I was one of those people. However in my case I didn't want your cash, I wanted your bank details. Needless to say most people are unwilling to give out credit card numbers and bank account details on the street so my tenure working for the Australian Red Cross did not last long. Sales, which it basically was, just wasn't for me. And the worst part about it was, besides getting rejected all day, 95% of the monthly donations for the first year actually go to the marketing company. We're instructed not to mention that part.

Anyway, after the boredom of unemployment set in again I decided to get another job. It's not the easiest thing for a backpacker in Sydney to find a job but when you speak fluent English it sets you above some of the others. Lucky me.

I have just over a month left here in Sydney before I hop a bus and start my travels up the east coast. I've got 45 days to travel via Greyhound from Sydney to Cairns. Along the way I'll make stops such as Byron Bay, Brisbane, Surfer's Paradise, Whitsunday Island and Townsville. I hope to do some scuba diving on the Barrier Reef and throw myself out of a plane for some skydiving along the way. So it goes without saying that I am really looking forward to the next leg of the journey. But for now, I wait.

There still is one place here in New South Wales that I need to visit before I go which would be the Blue Mountains. They're just to the west of the city proper and I believe they're Australia's version of the Grand Canyon. Although Australia has got more than one version as the inner parts of the country have Ayer's Rock and a crater from a meteor impact a long long time ago.

So for now I'm just working in a cafe/restaurant and, as of late, eating a good amount. Boredom will do that to you. It's pretty hot here now and every time I take a shower not more than 20 minutes will pass before I feel like I need to take another one. I'm actually looking forward to the New Zealand winter if you can believe that.

Surf Camp at Crescent Head

The #1 rule


The camp


Surfing

When I decided to go on a surf trip I immediately started to have preconceived notions of what a surf camp would be like. I pictured a secluded cabin next to the beach, lawn hammocks and camp fires, surf boards nailed up on the wall, surfer girls in bathing suits all day, etc. And of course experience would tell you that it is never as you think it will be. I think I can safely say that this trip was the exception to the rule.

The name of the camp was Mojo and I'd have to say that it lived up to its name. A coach bus picked up the group from Sydney and we set out for Crescent Head which was a 6 hour drive north. There were about 20 people heading up for some surf and sand and a good portion of them were from Holland and Norway. But on any trip you'll always get a good mix of nationalities and this trip was no different. Canada, England, Italy, Germany and of course the US of A were all represented.

We stopped a couple times on the way up to get supplies for a good old fashioned beach party and arrived in the camp around 2pm, plenty of time to hit the beach and give this surfing thing a try. We all strapped on the wet suits and made our way down to the beach. What's funny is that I thought it wouldn't be all that hard. I expected to stand up the first time and be a natural. I was dead wrong. I worked some muscles that haven't been moved in decades. And then you have to deal with the waves crashing down on you and throwing you around like a rag doll, at least the big ones. But wow was it fun. I was able to stand up a few times on the first day and throughout the trip I progressively got better. It's a good thing the food was tasty because I was starving after each go-round.

We ate in an open air hut and slept large common rooms. Between surfing, eating and sleeping I dusted off my ping pong skills and played Canadian Phil in a friendly game, read my book in the hammock or laid in the sun on the lawn. Sometimes it gets old exchanging my story with every new traveler I meet but it's always fun to hear about other people's cultures. I found out all about the Norwegian accent from a girl named Cecilie as she bravely demonstrated it for me. I'll usually ask them to see if they can imitate the American accent and Cecilie did pretty well. My Norwegian accent on the other hand is lacking.

As for the actual surfing though the trick is to keep your head up and stay low and centered. The hardest part is getting up fast enough to actually be standing in order to catch the wave at the right time. Everyone got the hang of it though. By the end I had some wear and tear on the body as blisters were forming on my hands, my chest was sore from laying on the board, my feet ached, my neck was tweaked and my shoulders were hurting. It was a good pain though as it was all worth it.

Unfortunately for me I was only on a 3 day trip while the rest of the group was continuing on to Byron Bay on a 5 day trip. On my last night we all gathered around the camp fire and exchanged stories and jokes. I initiated a little impromptu karaoke with Taro, an English chap, and the Dutch girls tried to top us each time with a song of their own. Phil and I had a good laugh over Taro's last name as we were convinced it sounded just like an English butler's name. The name was Hallworth but we thought it sounded better with an S in the middle, effectively changing it to Hallsworth. We then proceeded to put on corny British accents and ask "Hallsworth" to carry the beer over to the fire as it was simply not going to carry itself over there. All in good jest.

All in all, it was one of the best trips I've been on over here and although I am not going pro in the surfing racket anytime soon I hope to try it again. So.............. surfing: check. Next up: scuba diving and skydiving.

Settling Down in Sydney

The New Year has come and it's no longer new anymore so now I have to get used to writing -/-/10 when I had gotten so used to writing 09. As for getting used to Sydney things are coming along at a smooth pace as I am easing my way into a routine. I've moved into the apartment on Harbour St. and have just been enjoying my days pool side or reading on the roof. When I get somewhat bored I keep reminding myself that this is apart of what I came here to do......nothing. It's quite nice.

I watched the fireworks over the Harbour Bridge from Macquaries Point. There were a few trees in the way but overall it was a good spot. I had to wait in what was probably the longest line I've ever seen. It went about 400 yards down a side walk and then snaked down a hill and then coiled in and around itself at the bottom. There were two sets of fireworks, one at 9 and then one at 12. I went with some folks from the hostel and we all enjoyed a good show.

As for the apartment I never thought I would find myself in such a situation but for the rent it is well worth it. And then I just have to remind myself of the pool and it really helps. I share a room with 2 Korean guys and 1 French guy. Yes, 4 people in this room. There's a few other roommates in the next room as well and I do have to say that although the language barrier poses some obstacles it really isn't that bad. The Korean guys are some of the nicest people I've met as they offer me to share in their dinner and are always very courteous. I went out with them, the Japanese and German roommates as well, one night to Jay's (one of the Korean roommates, not his real name but an English substitute) restaurant and ate Korean food and drank Korean whiskey. We played a Korean drinking game called 0-0-7-bang! which was actually pretty fun. We played another called Titanic but I am not sure where that one came from.

They were very excited to have me as a roommate because it gives them a chance to practice their English. Jay especially is filled with questions about how to pronounce certain words or what a word means when it is in a tense he has never seen. The Japanese girl, Nobu, is very funny and one of the most outgoing Asians I've ever met. She is addicted to Desperate Housewives as one of the roommates has all the seasons. Overall, I'm enjoying my new surroundings, especially the pool, and the location is perfect (right next to George St. which is the main street running through downtown).

I have a 3-day surf camp trip booked for next week and the forecast is supposed to be rain for two of the days. Hopefully they are wrong as usual. I've heard it is extremely tiring as the swimming alone wears you out, not to mention the paddling. I've done some site-seeing around the city but have yet to go to Bondi Beach. They really scare you about skin cancer here, and rightfully so, as there is some grossly large number of people who get it each year. I mean they really hammer it home with billboards, commercials, previews on movies, radio, etc. I got burned the other day after spending just about 30 minutes in the sun. That hole in the ozone is pretty big I think.

In the next week though I'll start looking for jobs and see what's out there. Evidently, in New South Wales, the only state that requires it's own special certification, you have to take a class to get certified to serve alcohol. Another way for the gov. to make money if you ask me. But it is essential and after planning the rest of my trip up until May I know it's necessary. First however, a little surfing is in order.