Carlton Brewery Tour

Today Andrea and I toured the Carlton Brewery here on the Gold Coast. Although we chose it purely out of convenience, it happened to be the 2nd largest brewery in Australia, supplying for 25% of all Australia's alcohol needs. The production line was amazing! There were so many bottles shuffling along the production line that their bumping racket was deafening!

We ended the tour with a tasting session...at which it became apparent that Andrea and I should have eaten lunch before going. We were raucous, tipsy girls...but I have no fear that we altered anyone's perception of Americans for the worse. Fosters may be Australian for piss (the Aussie's love that one, Jeff!) but there are some decent beers out here!

Other than that, there's not much to say. But I thought I'd supply a before and after picture for general amusement. Enjoy!

Zorbing!

It has long been my belief that EVERYONE wants to be the hamster in the ball, and today I found out why! It's fun: disorienting and crazy, but fun. And for humans, it's called zorbing.

Zorbing is an activity only found in Australia, New Zealand, and England. Essentially, you are put in a giant ball within a bigger ball and rolled down a hill. We opted for the multi-person Hydro ride. The man selling the rides told me that zorbing is ranked as more dangerous than bungee jumping by some anonymous authority. I don't know that I believe that though: rolling around in a ball versus full-body whiplash? You decide the truth for yourselves.

I've included a video of my roomie Dorothy and my zorbing experience. You're supposed to run within the ball as it rolls...but you can see how well that went for us :-)

Enjoy!

Surfers Paradise

Alright! Let's get through the important stuff first. I live here:

120 The Esplanade
Surfers Paradise, QLD

But, more importantly, "here" is right across from there:

Every other morning I wake up early run barefoot on the beach, stomping through the waves and watching sea fisherman setting up as I go. The sand is the finest I've ever felt; It's incredibly soft and makes a low squeaky noise if you drag your feet across it. The water is warm and turns from blue to toothpaste green as it moves toward the shore.

Apart from knowing that I'm in Australia it's hard to tell Surfers Paradise apart from Miami, Mexico, or any CA beach. It's incredibly touristy here and, therefore, not too distinctive. I get ridiculously excited when any animal or bird comes near; in a country over-run with unique lifeforms Surfers is pretty barren. But, I love having the ocean so close and it will be a good springboard area for other travel around the continent.

Things that are hard to get used to:

1) Traffic on the left side of the road. I feel like a kid again not having any instinct for where danger is coming from.
2) Coins that are actually dollars - Aussies are in shape from lugging all this change, I swear!
3) Prices. Things are more expensive here because their minimum wage is higher. We have an okay exchange rate, but that doesn't change the fact that basic items cost much more.
4) Phone numbers! I can't figure this out. I will soon be inheriting a pre-paid phone, so some lucky people will get calls (or unlucky, depending on your viewpoint), but I've seen phone numbers ranging from 6 to 12 digits. Plus, there isn't any noticeable rhythm when people say the numbers.

Things are different, but I'm learning. And, it makes me appreciate having a home where the world makes a bit more sense.

Journey to the Other Side of the World

Stage 1: The Philosopher Shuttle Driver

The day of my flight was fairly relaxed. I tied up a few ends and then went back to wait for the airport shuttle due to pick me up at 3:30pm. After panicking twice and calling the shuttle service for updates my driver finally arrived. A short Iranian man wearing gold-rimmed aviator glasses hopped out of the van and loaded my luggage. The ride to the airport quickly grew interesting as he discovered my destination.
Referencing Star Wars, he told me that Earth was ready to be a federation planet. No matter where you go, he told me, we all have that human quality: we all laugh and worry about the same things. He explained to me that religion is a language and, like all languages, separates us. Even as I enjoyed listening to him, I realized that this was another person who didn't require my participation to have a conversation with me. Our lovely talk concluded with a prediction that within the next 15 years our human side will collide and a new world will form...and his collecting $32 from me.

Stage 2: The Plane Rides
(Los Angeles to Aukland, NZ)

Denver to LA was a breeze, so onto the 12+ hour flight across the Pacific Ocean. I've never flown internationally before (Mexico doesn't count) and I just have to say that a 747-400 plane is a fabulous place to spend 12 hours. It's a double-decker airbus, essentially. Plus, they have videos and games in a console on the back of every seat to help while away the time. I lucked out with a window to my right and an empty seat to my left.

It was dark when the plane left Los Angeles and we stayed in darkness the whole flight. I ate when the trays came around, watched some movies (Semi-pro sucks, btw), and slept. Thanks to Steve's advice I did try to walk a bit, and I think having a go at Pikes Peak one day and then flying 16 hours the next was a good thing; it gave my legs time to think about what they had done wrong.

12 hours after leaving LA we started to descend in New Zealand. After hours of featureless darkness, I was glued to the window. The streets snaked below us, pulsating with the faint light of cars. As we banked towards the airport at 3,000 feet and descending I saw a glow on the horizon. I couldn't make it out at first, thinking it was light pollution or the airport lights, but I stared as I realized it was the ocean: enormous and beautiful under the full moon. The waves seemed frozen from that height, but it left me speechless. It's safe to say that I loved New Zealand already.

I waited in the airport, exhausted and dirty, before my next flight left. They decided we'd leave 45 minutes late because "the Gold Coast airport doesn't like early arrivals". I was thrilled about this.

(Aukland, NZ to Gold Coast, Australia)

After the marathon of crossing the pacific, this 2.5 hour flight felt like nothing. The part I remember most is the descent into Australia because it typified the way I felt about the country. We broke through towering clouds, passed a rainbow, and coasted over hundreds of whales. The towering clouds were beautiful and terrifying in their immensity, the rainbow unexpected, and the whales were marvelous and huge. Australia felt like the dangerous yet extraordinary country I had always thought it would be...even from the air.

The Pikes Peak Venture

SO! Since I was about to leave the country I thought it was a fabulous idea to try to hike my first 14-er the day before my departing flight...because I'm brilliant. My friend Deanne decided she is also brilliant and signed up for the trip 2 days before her first 5K. On Sunday, June 15th, we drive down to Divide, CO and got to the trail-head at 10am; without much ado we took our before pictures and marched up the trail.

Instead of the 26 miles of fun that the standard Pikes Peak trail would offer, we were hiking the Crags route which is a much more reasonable 12.5 miles. (Thanks, Krister!) The day is lovely, even the seasoned hikers around us are marveling at the perfect conditions as they sauntered past us...apparently strolling through a field of daisies while we crawled up hills.

About 2 miles up the trail, a swarm of insects rose to greet us, looking about the size of bees and sounding like little motorboats. Deanne and I turned-tail, running and screaming with such girlish ferocity that they were soon forced to abandon their pursuit. We were forced to realize they were flies (freakishly big and friendly flies), and were destined to be our traveling companions the rest of the way.

Eventually, we got above the tree-line and baby-stepped our way to Devil's Playground; so named for the way lightening jumps from rock to rock in a storm. We're so high now that the view has lost it's splendor a bit, turning hazy in the distance. But the Playground is a welcome rest with its broad, level slopes. It reminded me of the chase scene from Princess Bride: the way the rocks nestled into the green hills. Our journey ended at the base of the final ascent. A lovely hiker couple had just informed us that it would be 1 to 1.5 hours of hiking to the top; we already had 4 under our belt. I looked at Deanne; she looked like a cute version of the living dead and I can only imagine how I pulled off the look. We were beat. So we stopped short of our goal and had lunch with our fly buddies then headed back down the mountain.

I have only one thing to say about downhills: Screw the boulder! Sisyphus should have to walk up and down a steep gravelly hill with knees like mine for all eternity. I'm built for up! Billy-goat, not a bear, as my father would say. So the descent was complete agony marked with bittersweet moments of recognizing our milestones from the way up.

When we finally got to the ground I hugged the car and realized that I had somehow managed to get a sunburn on the backs of my hands and my eyelids....only. Don't ask me how, I'm a talented girl. But, apparently, it's a good look for me. The gas attendant told me to "stay beautiful," I said "You too" and left him to his confused state. So: sweaty, grimy, exhausted and sun-charred is my thing. I rock it daily!

Mary Poppins with Gelato

Remember the scene in Mary Poppins where they jump into a street painter's picture? Well that's what I felt like doing every 5 steps this past Sunday, because I was at the Piazza Dell Arte on Larimer Square in Downtown Denver. Each year, this street is blocked off and for two days chalk artists from all over Colorado and the world come to scratch at the pavement. Some artists create masterpieces: faces so real and of such beauty that you can only stare and bemoan the fact that it will soon wash away. Other pictures are more light-hearted: a tasmanian devil, a dog with sunglasses, etc.

The festival is supposed to be an Italian affair (harkening back to 16th century artists sketching out the Madonna for compensation), so the experience would not be complete without gelato, wine, and food! Every admirer strolling down Larimer had at least one of these treats with them, and most had dogs. This last is more a stereotype of Colorado than of the festival itself: Coloradans love dogs! Everywhere I looked there were dogs of different sizes, breeds, and temperments; their owners trying to pose them next to the dog pictures as little crowds gathered to watch the spectacle. I felt sorry for the artist who had spent two days crafting the "dog with sunglasses" picture: more people ogled the visiting pups than they did the drawn one.

As always, it was a wonderful way to spend Sunday afternoon and I look forward to what the muses bring next year.

Run, Sarah, Run!

On May 26th, I ran the 30th annual Bolder Boulder 10K race in Boulder, CO. Over 54,000 people ran through the streets of this collegiate mountain town in a race that has become a tradition even for Olympians. Surprisingly, I am not an Olympian...you may be shocked now. But, I did beat my time from last year by finishing the 6.2 mile race in 54 minutes, 19 seconds; that's an average mile time of 8 minutes, 45 seconds.

Aside from the incredible experience of being part of a herd/hoard of runners, the community comes out in surprising ways. Bands play on almost every corner, slip 'n' slides are open for business, hula and belly dancers wiggle you on your way, and Elvis impersonators of all ages cheer from the sidelines. It's a total trip! Last year I was offered vegan bacon on mile 5. I'm surprised vegans don't abstain from food that looks like an animal product!

Hopefully, I'll do as well in the City 2 Surf 14K race in Sydney, Australia on August 10th. Keep your eyes peeled for more on that!

To Grandmother's House I Went

Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother's house I go! Now, take away the river, trees, and anything else that might break the perfect monotony of a 5-hour drive to Nebraska, and you'd have my song. But somehow that's not quite as lyrical. Ah well! This past weekend I went to visit my grandparents in Arnold, Nebraska; something I should have done a long time ago.

I got up early on Saturday and hit the road armed with four sodas and an IPOD...essentially ready for anything. It was a gorgeous day! The sun was out, the skies were blue and the speed limit along I76 and I80 was a blissful 75 mph; I cruised the countryside with the windows down and the roaring wind beating at my eardrums. Occasionally, I would enter a philosophical argument with myself about the Zen nature of accepting all odors as simple smells: not good or bad; that worked until cattle country. There was also about 100 miles in which I was admiring the rural nature of Nebraska before I saw the "Welcome to Nebraska" sign. So, score 1 for my innate sense of geography!

About 50 miles before reaching Arnold, I stopped in North Platte for some gas and food (apparently sodas are not filling and that glistening sun had dried me out like a raisin). Pulling off the highway, a scrolling electric sign caught my eye above the Conoco/Taco Bell: "Best prices and best-looking cashiers!" Obviously this was the station for me. A large sign above the convenience store only increased my sense of rightness: YOU ARE NOWHERE. Whether that meant I was no-where or now-here I'll never know...but it was true either way. The gas cost a wallet-crushing $4.29/gallon and, upon seeing the cashier, I remembered that on a short list it's easy to be considered the best.

I wandered over to the Taco Bell and ordered 3 soft tacos. Then I had the pleasure of silent horror as the cook reached his hands into the ground beef and started making my tacos. Apparently, it is not required by the great state of Nebraska for restaurant-workers to wear gloves; even if it's not required, though, it still seems like a good idea to me. So after attempting to get a $2.80 refund for my sullied tacos, they agreed to remake them while the chef wore gloves. Glory be! So I left with my meal and significantly less appetite. But, as a coworker pointed out, at least he was wearing pants.

My grandparents house was 20 miles from town, and as I pulled up the drive I had to admire their view. The sky dominated the world out here, making any obstruction on the horizon seem out of place. Dark clouds circled to the south, a double-rainbow bloomed to the east, and blue skies danced in the north; it was overwhelming and lovely to be under such a site.

Hugging my grandparents, I noticed how much smaller they seemed to me; but, then again, I hadn't seen them for 6 years. Their home was tidy and cool, quite a relief after a long drive under the harsh sun. Everywhere I looked were reminders of my childhood visits; I recognized magnets, books, and about half of the million cow-chachkis my grandmother collects. Their dog, Belle, napped on the front porch while nesting swallows argued over her head. I surprised myself by being genuinely happy to be in their home and to walk down into the fields with Grandma. The importance of having family has been lost on me for many years, and over the course of the next day it came back.

They told me about their small community and how they enjoyed the closeness of it. I particularly enjoyed a story about the Swiss church up the road that was struck by lightening. The shock fried all the circuits and sent their 100+ year old church bell flying into the fields, where it still lays. I imagined the Swiss church-goers gathering around the bell, babbling prayers in their convoluted tongue.

The next day I drove back. The visit had been wonderful, though the drive continued to be exhausting. But, I definitely plan to wander that way again come next Thanksgiving!