To Wine & Women! - Don Giovanni at the Sydney Opera

I know I've violated some universal law of backpacking by bringing a formal dress and Calvin Klein stilettos with me on the road, but something had to be done for my first opera! Tonight I attended Don Giovanni at the Sydney Opera House, wearing my little outfit plus a couple of additions that will get me some backpacker cred: I tied my $3 purple flip flops to the money belt strings under my dress. I felt truly sneaky and clever. Show me the woman who can walk 2 miles in stilettos and I will run the other way!

Back to the show, though. Don Giovanni was a humorous tale of an Italian playboy who romances women indiscriminately: fat, thin, old, young...each was simply a different flavor to satisfy different hungers. Part of me admires a complete lack of standards in a man - it's rather like equal opportunity for the dating world. As must always happen, this Don Juan gets his comeuppance; but not before some truly amusing antics and amazing singing. My favorite character was Lady Elvira, the most recent in a string of jilted lovers who still has a soft spot for the town's bad boy. She was the one female character in the opera who was realistic; even if it was realism in a sad form. She was ever-forgiving and ever-loving yet ready to beat him senseless for his crimes. If you love something, set it free....and if it doesn't come back, hunt it down and kill it! Female philosophy through and through!

The opera house was vastly different from Beijing's. Where Beijing overwhelmed, Sydney intrigued. The concept seemed to be the warping of small spaces. Stairways interwove and overlapped while odd hallways drew you into corners. It was rather maze-like and fun to wander through. Plus, it boasted a view of the Harbour Bridge and ferries that more than made up for the cost of admission. At intermission a Scottish physicist bought me a glass of wine and elaborated on the intricacies of Mozart opera...this was made so much more amusing with flip flops under my dress.

After the night of wine, scorned women, and Mozart had finished I 'flopped my way back to the hostel.

Wake Up! My First Hostel Experience

I always knew travelling would spur revelations about life and the world...I just didn't know the extent of things that would be revealed. For instance, my first night in a hostel I did not expect a young frenchman to de-pants in an 8 person, multisex room. I did NOT see that coming! But we all saw it going! (har har) And, maybe it's just me, but I would not flaunt a pale, hairy little butt like that - I don't care if it is all the rage in Paris!

As you can see, hostels are odd places, but I happen to be staying at a particularly great one. Wake Up! (the hostel) is ranked #1 large hostel in Oceania. It's set up in central Sydney in an old department store building; as with many re-purposed buildings, it has a unique flavor. The store was originally built with each floor at different heights to house different merchandise, so no 2 floors are the same. This lends a funky feel which is heightened by big pillows, poof chairs, and blaring music - hippy heaven.

The more I hang around backpackers, the more I understand the culture they've set up for themselves. They take great pride in their roaming, revel in their showerless state (you can sniff out a true BP'er any day!), and dress in an 80's flashback style (where do they buy capri leggings these days?). Most of my hostel-mates are between 17-19 years old...which makes me feel a bit out of the loop. The looks I see when they learn I'm 24 make me feel as if I've achieved centarian status 76 years too soon!

But, the few years between us make me shake my head in a "how young I once was" way (Steve knows what I'm talking about). They haven't started jobs or college and view the first as a prison for them to rot in...and so they wander. I have a theory that they won't grow up until they are attacked by anti-bacterial soap. Experiments to commence soon!

Exploring Sydney

Zombie-Sarah was unleashed on Sydney today. I'm amazed people didn't flee from my, no doubt hideous, state as I blundered from tourist spot to tourist spot on only 2 hours of sleep. Not my smartest move, but there were too many sites to resist!

Sydney is an unusual place filled with unusual people. The city is a combination of old and new, rather like New Orleans. The rolling hills of San Francisco and the cottages and alleyways of London merge together with the safe, clean feeling of Denver. Most people are either backpackers or Asian tourists...either way I'm still being assaulted by languages I don't understand. English continues to startle me when spoken. This mishmash of people and buildings confuses me and I keep forgetting where I am.

I started out the day by wandering over to the Chinese Gardens in Darling Harbour (because I'm still in China-mode). What a laugh! I must have warped into a China-snob in the last week because I took time out of my day to mock this place. The willow trees were limp and yellow, nothing like the vibrant, graceful limbs of China's; pigeons crowded every level of a pagoda decoration in the fountain; the roof tiling carried a plastic sheen; and the guardian dragons looked comical: their tongues lolling and their paw drunkenly cuffing their young. Surprisingly, I decided not to pay the $10 for tour and tea service. Just as well, really. I've got to get out of yen-mentality; dollars are dollars here, mate!

Denied the pleasures of a Chinese Garden I walked along Cockle Bay wharf (with cockles and mussels, alive, alive-o!). The sun had warmed the day to perhaps 60 degrees and tourists and locals bustled along the wooden docks while the expensive, white yachts were busy shining. A yawning archway in the shape of a shark's mouth welcomed me to the famous Sydney Aquarium. I repented my laughter of before - THIS was why people come to Australia!

I am not particularly fascinated by fish, but I do appreciate beauty. Between the informative displays on individual fish, the difference between salt and fresh-water crocs, and reef construction were some of the most amazing creatures I've ever seen. Long-necked turtles weaved through murky tanks in a sinuous dance; penguins sat upon their rocks rustling their feathers and shaking it for all it's worth; seals huffed damply at their audience as they flowed over and around each other. The underwater walkways were the true shows, though. Giant sea turtles and manta rays dwarfed the predators in the tank while saucy little fish dashed along at eye-level. At the touch-tanks I pet a 4-pronged blue starfish and learned of the age-old battle of starfish vs. damsel fish; damsel fish are adorable, bright-blue fish that flit about stealing food from the starfish. Stay strong, my starfish friend! And try not to contort yourself into further loss of limb.

Aside from the magic of the giant tanks and long-suffering starfish, my favorite part of the museum was the platypus display. One of the information signs told an aboriginal tale of the platypus. In dreamtime, all the animals were dividing up by type. The birds got together and decided to invite platypus because she had to lay eggs as they did. Platypus was flattered, but didn't really feel right about accepting because she didn't fly. She decided to think about it. Then the mammals and fish got together and invited platypus because she had fur like the mammals and swam like the fish. Platypus was again flattered, but unsure of either offer. So she called all the groups to meet together in peace. She said that their offers were very kind but she couldn't accept any. She was glad to be friend to all, because she understood the plight of each group. And since then, the aboriginals took the sighting of the platypus to be a sign of luck and friendship. It's like I've always said: Screw evolution, maybe the platypus was right!

After the Aquarium, I walked to the Sydney Observatory. It's a rather small building with one of the best views in the city. Inside was a rather odd collection of historical artifacts ranging from ancient telescopes to glass-encased examples of old bathing suits worn in the heat wave of 1867. I signed up for a night-viewing and went to see the Harbour Bridge. Climbing the bridge would have been $179. I don't know how these people climb at night! Resisting the urge to haggle, I walked along the bridge path instead. The opera house glistened below, a spunky counterpoint to the Beijing Opera.

My favorite part of today was probably the hidden alley ways that carve up the blocks between major streets. The stairs and walkways are roughly cobbled and the building walls slant in or out at odd angles to narrow the alley. These alleys were once the underbelly of the city in the late 1800's, filled with point-shoed male thugs and the broad-brimmed hats of ladies of questionable virtue. And there I was, nibbling a muffin in their old haunts. History truly does disconnect from places; it is people that made the alleys what they were and it is in people that they remain special.

The night viewing at the observatory was definitely lessened by my inability to remain awake. The astronomer was a large, be-whiskered man who pointed out the Southern Cross and Alpha & Beta Centauri with a laser pointer that could blind plane pilots! About 20 tourists crowded into the freezing dome-topped tower with me to get a closer look at the universe - explained with an Australian accent.

Big day, but not a bad way to burst back onto the Aussie scene.

Beijing, China - Day 5

Part of me longed for the western-style house while in China - you know: toilets in seat-style and not glorified holes in the ground, air-conditioning, comfy places to sit, tv...home. Leave it to the Chinese to do it better, though! Last night we relocated to Dorothy's Aunt's and Uncle's home outside Beijing. The suburbs are increasingly westernized in terms of architecture and this one was lovely: 4 stories, air-conditioned, gleaming hardwood floors, and a shower with 6 different ways to pelt you with water. It was paradise!


Dorothy's family once more offered a brand of hospitality I've never seen matched. They served us a gigantic breakfast that 10 people couldn't hope to finish and drove us to today's adventure: the Ming Tombs.


The Ming Tombs are extensive and spaced out, including 13 separate mausoleums of Ming dynasty emperors and empresses. We visited the Sacred Way and the Ding Ling museum. The Sacred Way is a path lined with towering willow trees and stone guardian animals. We passed, and climbed on, lions, camels, horses, goats, elephants, and dragon-creatures; you haven't climbed ancient artifacts until you've climbed these babies! My favorite dragon, the turtle dragon, oversaw the complex beneath an elaborate archway. As we neared the end of the path, human statues flanked us; they were the generals and councilors of old. They struck me as silent, thoughtful men and warriors who had meditated so long in the peaceful glade they'd turned to stone. I could see how they'd done it - it was easy to lose yourself in the sweeping path and the hum of the insects.

The Ding Ling museum holds an underground palace that is the resting place of emperor Zhu Yjun and his 2 empresses. Busy guy! We descended 6 stories into the earth to see the replicas of their thrones and coffins. The most vivid memory of that tomb is the dampness, the air was so water-heavy everything was covered in mist. The halls and floors were damp and cold, but largely reconstructed so not as engaging as the Sacred Way.


After the Ming Tombs, we all faced a dilemma. Both Dorothy's grandparents and aunt & uncle wanted to take us out for a meal. So we had two sizeable meals nearly back to back. The Chinese are happy if food is eaten, but tend to order so much that eating it all is impossible! No matter how we all tried, the food was largely undented by our bellies. By Chinese standards we're very rude. In this sense, I'm glad to be leaving because my stomach is starting to lose its nerve.

Since this is my last night, I think it's time for a literary montage of an amazing trip; please hum your favorite bitter-sweet rock ballad. I've sweated my weight in water, acquired a China tan and a temporary smoker's cough, eaten crazy foods, haggled, explored ancient temples and palaces, been photographed with more enthusiasm than ever in my life, ridden public transport in contortionist-sardine-like conditions, developed a love of all forms of green tea, had my personal space violated unknowingly but constantly, and finally fulfilled a childhood dream of seeing China. It's been magical and nerve-racking and I can't wait to do it again!

Beijing, China - Day 4

Does anyone remember a commercial with the Energizer Bunny going along the great wall? Well, that was Dorothy and me today! We charged up those stairs and ramps with a New Yorker's indifference to the personal space and safety of others.

But first we had to get there. The morning started with Dorothy, Pete, Andrea, and me catching a coach bus to the Great Wall. We were all crammed next to strangers and listening to a tour guide we did not understand (Dorothy excluded). My neighbor was a curious little girl who watched me filling out postcards so intensely that I think she might have melted the language barrier; I ended up drawing puppies to amuse her before she crashed into slumber. After an hour long ride we arrived at the Great Wall: it was packed! I quickly reverted to my NY walking skills as Dorothy and I devoured the wall. There were ramps so steep I swore I would slide down, but somehow we managed. It's hard to imagine an army ever even approaching the Wall with all the trees and ravines that surround it. Much too much effort!

The visibility was not grand, as has been the case for our visit so far. The smog in Beijing is so thick that visibility is maybe 200m. The sky is rarely seen, and the air is thick enough to give you temporary smokers' cough. So the view was not spectacular, but the peace of the Wall was incredible. China is serene in ways that other places can never be. Even the willow trees, the saddest trees in Virginia, seem more graceful than solemn here. Part of me would love to be a hermit here - enjoying the quiet of the Chinese forests!



Once again we were dragged into pictures. One woman made a "I found the prize ham" noise when she saw Pete; I half-expected her to start rubbing his belly. But I guess a blond-haired, blue-eyed 6'3" guy stands out a bit. I'm not sure how many scrapbooks I'm becoming a part of, but I'm proud to be White Girl #3 any day!

Beijing, China - Day 3

When it was this soul-crushingly hot in ancient times, the emperors would go to the Summer Palace to escape; today we tried to follow in their noble footsteps - to little avail but much amusement.

The Summer Palace was built by the imperial heir more than 300 years ago in an attempt to lure the Empress Dowager off her throne. It didn't work in the slightest, but a lovely grounds resulted. There are definite themes to the Palace: almost everything is devoted to the idea of longevity. A large rock formation shaped like a man with a peach on his head greets every entrant; peaches are the fruit of longevity.
Crane and deer statues flank every doorway: the air and land animals of longevity. The Chinese characters for longevity are carved at the end of each pipe of roofing and painted on every mirror. The man-made lake is in the shape of a peach and the palace boasts the longest walkway in the world: 728 m...rather long-evinous, wouldn't you say? The other main theme was good fortune which is represented by the bat. The dirt from the man-made lake was moulded into a bat-shaped hill where the Temple of Buddha Incense/Incest/Incompetence now sits. (One of those names is right, I'm sure.) The entire palace seemed like a desperate message to the fates: long life and good fortune. The heir died at 38, by the way, after being imprisoned for 10 years in the Summer Palace. Someone up there sure liked laughing at this guy!

I know all these fun facts because an Olympic volunteer gave us a free tour. These people are all over Beijing, and are put in the streets to help the incoming flood of tourists that the Olympics will bring. Each volunteer gets to see the Olympic Games for free and tourists get a bit richer experience. The idea of volunteering is somewhat foreign to the Chinese, according to our guide, and so most of them are younger, more westernized citizens.

After our guide left us, we took a ferry to Suzhou Street, a venetian-like market divided in two by a canal. The ferry was a long boat powered by a single oar and oarsman at the back; it tipped side to side with each stroke but carried us through the willow trees at a good pace. Suzhou street was enchanting and I explored it while Andrea and Dorothy got pictures taken in traditional garb; way too hot for me to do that! Banners attached to dragon-headed poles fluttered above and a lone flute player filled the with haunting music. On my way back to the girls, a father asked me to take a picture with his two sons...both of whom seemed terrified of me. But, I smiled and the picture was taken. What do they do with these pictures of foreigners? "Here we are at the Summer Palace, and here my sons are with a random white chick, that was a good day!" It's rather like how we act with touristy things; we all became part of the scene: great wall, summer palace, white girls....it's all very exciting. Would you like to buy Sarah tickets?

We tried to eat a traditional dinner tonight and experience the cuisine. I had spicy frog soup and beer pancake. The frog tasted like salty chicken but the bones were a big turn-off; something about the way dogs suck the marrow out of bones makes me a bit squeamish about eating around them. Yuck! The beer pancake was good though.

Tune in tomorrow for the Great Wall!

Beijing, China - Day 2

Voices, voices everywhere and not an ounce of sense! Day two in the sweltering ocean of Chinese tourists started with a visit to the Temple of Heaven: home of Echo Wall, Circular Mound, and the Hall of Abstinence (double yay!). Although located in the center of Beijing, the temple was an incredibly peaceful place. Freshly caught live musicians set up in an archway and had gathered a small crowd of singers; older couples practiced tango; and a hybrid sport of hacky sack and badminton was all the rage. Once more I was bewitched by the sheer size of the buildings and courtyards, and how easily the Chinese interacted with them.

After wandering about the Temple of Heaven, we set off for Silk Street - a famous hagglers' market. Silk Street was once a huge collection of outdoor stalls but the city of Beijing, recognizing its popularity, constructed a building to house them all. Every surface is heavy with merchandise: clothing ranges from winter coats to traditional Chinese garb, statues stare blankly ahead in tiny armies of jade and bronze, fans flutter, and jewelry glistens. I think you could find anything in the 8 floors of Silk Street. The atmosphere was chaotic, too! Vendors called from every side, "Nice girl! Pretty girl! I want to sell to you!" Sometimes they'd even pull at me; 2 small women dragged me into their stall with surprising force! "You buy tie for boyfriend! No boyfriend? I think you lie - you have 2, 3 boyfriend! You buy tie now!"

All my life I have been tickled by the idea of haggling, but pretty sure I wouldn't be up to it. In my head it was a fairly intimidating affair - but, in reality, it was so much fun! Dorothy says I'm a natural! I haggled for 4 items: a fan, 2 shirts, and a dress. My crowning achievement was talking a woman down from 380 yuan to 50! (Yuan to Dollars is roughly 7:1) That little piece of theatre involved me walking about 20 meters away and her chasing me; my leaving knocked 10 yuan off the top:-) I think haggling ended up being so exhilarating because it's a giant game. No matter what I pay, I'm getting ripped off. I know this. The vendor always wins in reality, but it's a surface victory for me. And, boy, do these women know how to ham it up!

We gloated over our purchases and ate dumplings at our hosts' home before heading off to the Beijing Opera House to see a piano recital. Andrea and I wore the dresses we had just bought and so arrived with a bit more grace than we would have otherwise...sweat-soaked tank tops just don't scream class! I was happy we did dress up, though, because the Beijing Opera House is a marvel! The building sits over a lake, looking like a giant teardrop forever poised on breaking. The main entrance is subterranean, so I was confused to see skylights. Looking up, I saw that the windows were covered with running water from the lake; the marble floors writhed beneath that rippling light. As we entered the main hall, I was struck by the vaulting wood-paneled ceilings, so far above that the wood appeared soft. Escalators and stairways crawled up the walls on either side of me. People scurried up and down them looking no more than bugs in the massive space. The walls were glass and through them I could see that the marble floor was level with the calm lake. It reinforced the idea of a teardrop: if the tear should break then it all would flow back to the water and the instant of art and beauty would be lost. It all seemed so delicately balanced to me, a statement about the fleeting life of art and beauty. Oh, and the piano concert was nice, too.
After the recital, Andrea and I walked to the Night Market: a bustling, winding street lit by large, red lanterns and full of heavily-laden stalls. We perused for awhile before buying corn on a stick. It was cooked but unbuttered, and so dry it tasted like popcorn. The vendors here seemed to feel that everything was made more edible by being on a stick...we even saw starfish-on-a-stick. Nummy! As we left the market, a girl stopped us and asked to take our picture because she thought we were beautiful. We were surprised but posed for the picture and she disappeared before we could get our bearings. It's unusual and highly flattering to be considered exotic! Plus, how often is a woman told she's beautiful without any sort of expectation of creepy intonation placed on the comment? Not too often!

It was a lovely day, all in all, ending in a fantasy market where people thought we were beautiful. I love China!

Beijing, China - Day 1

I have to start this out by laughing at myself. On the 14 hour plane ride to Beijing I was excited about the warm weather. 80+ degrees? Yay! I thought to myself, at least I’ll get a little summer while abroad…oh you stupid little fool. My first day in China was easily 90 degrees and humid in a way that feels like soft velvet rubbing against your skin: oppressively pleasant. At the end of the day I had sweated through my black tank top so horrendously that there were white stripes where the salt had dried!

China was overwhelming! If Andrea and I had not had Dorothy to house and guide us I don’t know what we would have done. The language barrier is impenetrable, even though they do speak slowly to foreigners, and my knowledge of Mandarin consists of smiling and nodding. So, thank you, Dorothy! Her family’s hospitality and her assistance made our visit not only fabulous but possible.

Our first day started out with Dorothy’s grandfather, our host, registering us at the local police station as visitors. Here I was reintroduced to childhood in that I knew I was being discussed and knew I had to be present…but ultimately had no idea what was going on. As a kid I might have played with the ID card booth, but I retained enough maturity to prevent that – shame really, it looked like a pretty fun set up. Here I was also introduced to the species of Chinese person that sounds perpetually angry – one clerk was yelling and gesturing so wildly I could have sworn she’d likened my ancestors to pigs or hamsters, but it turned out she was just saying hello.
The first tourist stop was Tiananmen Square. Though it looked exactly as it should it made me thoughtful. I think people sometimes travel to historical places to snatch at the ghosts of old, to reach for the place-memories that can connect the past to our present. We went to Tiananmen, in part, looking for evidence of its bloody past. But, as is the case with such endeavors, the Square showed little of its history. The walkways were clean and lined with neat rows of potted plants; people crowded into souvenir shops or strolled with brightly-colored umbrellas (conveniently placed at my eye-level for maximum fun).

Moving through Tiananmen Square, we entered the Forbidden City (home of Chinese emperors and center of government for about 500 years). The courtyards were big as fields, with large stones blanketing the grounds and tiny lines of grass hugging the stones. Statues watched us wherever we walked: dragon water-spouts, dragon roof statues, dragons in relief, turtle dragons, snake dragons, dog dragons, lion dragons, and cranes. (Go, cranes! Hanging with the big dogs!)

Every doorway we passed was painted red as were the towering walls. Dorothy explained to us that red is for good fortune. (Perhaps that’s why the communists absconded with it!) Everything was incredibly colorful. Any surface that was not attempting to dwarf the viewer with its blank immensity was minutely detailed. The painted woodwork was a riot of blues, golds, greens, and reds. It struck how every aspect of the palace was built and maintained with a purpose. The Chinese are nothing if not thorough.

And that is why it perplexed me that in such a purposeful, strict society no one knows how to wait in line! How does that happen? We got cut off countless times and even got honked at for using the crosswalk properly. DWA is a stereotype, true….but dear god it’s true and they’re everywhere!

After the Forbidden City we trekked 4 miles to Beihai Park due to an unfortunate inability to find the correct bus. Beihai was beautiful! We had come to see the wall of nine dragons, but found so much more! As soon as we got in, we went to the paddleboats and chugged along for awhile on the cool green waters lined by pagodas and willow trees. Dragonflies zipped around our heads, their swift orange bodies teasingly close but never landing. When we began to explore the park I realized that China is a very unhealthy place for me…you see, I suffer from a love/hate relationship with stairs. Everywhere we looked another stairway curved temptingly upward and out of sight. Rough-hewn or smooth, steep or shallow: I love them all. But with 120% humidity, it was a pleasure my compatriots and I suffered for.

As we walked, we passed a lake teeming with gargantuan lilies (we’re talking frog heaven here); a Chinese man insisted on shaking our hands because he’d never shook with an American before, and we encountered a herd of feral cats two of which were humping up a storm. We watched an older man trying to break up the rendezvous, but you can’t stop kitty love; especially when a cat knows it’s forbidden.

All in all, we had a lovely day. I think I got the hang of naming things down here after tooling around the tourist scene. It’s always something elaborate: Hall of Wisdom and Grace, Pillar of Accumulated Elegance, etc. So I started making up my own:

- Temple of Fruitless Thoughtfulness
- Archway of Sensical Violence
- Gateway of the Flamboyant Chihuahua

Feel free to use any and all for your future naming needs! And so passed my first day in China!

*Pictures will be posted after I have finished backpacking Australia.

Where in the world is Sarah?

My beloved passport has returned from its voyage to the Chinese Consulate in Chicago with my Chinese visa nestled inside! Which means this adventure of mine is REALLY about to take off. In a little over 24 hours I will be leaving my beach-side apartment to explore China and to backpack Australia. Dorothy will be meeting Andrea and I in Beijing, housing us, feeding us, and perhaps mistranslating what we say for general amusement; fun will be had by all in a land I've wanted to see since I was 5! But upon our return, I will be wandering about Aussie land alone for 18 days.

Since I will have less ready access to the internet I've decided to post a travel calendar here so people will have an idea of where I am. Updates will be made as changes happen...of which there will be many, I have no doubt.

July 23 Fly to China
July 23 - 30 Beijing, China.....woot!
July 30 Fly back to Sydney, Australia
July 31 - Aug 2 Sydney, Australia
Aug 2 - 5 Indian Pacific Rail to Perth...cross-continental train ride!
Aug 6 Fly to Albany
Aug 6 - 7 Albany/Walpole....Valley of the Giants Canopy Walk!
Aug 7 Fly to Perth
Aug 7 - 9 Perth...Western wine country, here I come!
Aug 9 Fly to Sydney
Aug 10 City 2 Surf 14K!!!!
Aug 11 Fly to Adelaide
Aug 11 - 13 Adelaide
Aug 13 - 14 The Ghan Rail to Alice Springs
Aug 14-16 Uluru/Alice Springs....a rock in the desert...SWEET!
Aug 16 Fly to Sydney
Aug 16 Fly back to Surfers Paradise

Detailed and biased stories to follow on each place!

Surf's Up!

I learned to surf today! The locals think I'm crazy for doing it in the middle of winter, but no time like the present especially considering the land-locked nature of Colorado. It was the first rain-less day in a week and, dammit, I needed an adventure! So I toddled down to the surf shack and they set me up with a lesson complete with damp wet-suit (which felt like trying to pull a recently-slaughtered lizard's skin over my body...delicious!). First lesson of the day: no one looks or feels pretty in a wet suit.

There were 6 other people in the class with me: 3 oblivious Swedes, 1 Japanese man who spoke no English and lacked a personal space paradigm, 1 10 year-old New Zealander who befriended me, and 1 short, blond man who never spoke a word. We each were given surf boards (mine looked about twice my height) and told to follow our instructor down to the beach like baby ducks. Before even looking at the ocean we all sat in the sand and learned about the basics: the swim flags, the rip currents, and shark wrestling. Armed with anti-shark water-judo we set out to catch our first waves.

I don't know how many of you knew this about me, but I'm rather terrified of the ocean. Why? Oh, something about being in the control of a mindless, powerful force that houses sharks and rip currents never sounded fun to me. I've practically hyperventilated in the shallows before, turning every rolling wall into a demon in my mind. But, honestly, all the gut-wrenching irrational fear lasted about as long as it took me to catch my first wave; then it all evaporated in a gleeful "WEEEEE!" Any activity that offers so many opportunities to giggle at high velocity is alright by me! After that, every pummeling wave left me laughing even as the salt coated my lungs and stung my eyes.

After two hours of being dunked and tossed around I finally stood up on the board! It wasn't pretty or masterful in any way, but I think it is undeniable that I was vertical. Afterwards, they showed us a slide show of pictures we could buy which somehow captured the milliseconds where I appeared competent. It's funny how fast shutter speeds and a slide show set to a Chemical Brothers song can turn amateur fumblings into something kickass...but there wasn't anyone bitter enough to share in my amusement.

The day left me feeling like a walking bruise! I have sand-burns on my leg, everything tastes of salt, and I can't even sit for all the new bruises...but I can't wait to get out there again!

Fourth of July - Aussie Style!

America! America! Andrea and I were determined to celebrate Independence Day today; 16 hours ahead of most Americans but together in spirit! Our first stop was the Hard Rock cafe in Surfers...the free refills made me miss home. I never would have thought it would be one of my most missed things, but there you go.

Afterwards, we hopped in a cab and went to the Titans vs. Manley rugby game at Skilled Park. What happened next is best described in a press release:

In what has to be the first time ever, two American girls were ejected from a rugby game at Skilled Park for excessive cheekiness and drinking in a non-licensed section. The women in question were out "partying for America" on the fourth of July. Australian beers in hand, they sang the American national anthem, ogled the rugby players while making extremely decent (it's not indecent if you do it right!) overtures to them from afar, and were generally catty about the cheerleaders....who, according to one woman, resembled ostriches.

With 6 minutes left in the game, and the Titans getting schooled, a security official came up to ask them to leave the non-licensed section. Apparently, alcohol was not allowed so being the inventive girls they were, they downed the evidence. This was not the desired action.....and thus with little resistance, but much giggling, the two women were escorted out of the stadium.

When asked if they felt remorse for their actions they simply said "America! Fuck yeah!"

That was the high point of the night by far! What amuses me most is that I had to move a world away to discover my sense of patriotism. Sometimes life is strange...cheers to the land of free refills!

Currimbin Wildlife Sanctuary

Meet the love of my life: Wilbur the koala! He and his entire family are named after characters in Charlotte's Web; he weighs about 25 pounds, loves to cuddle, smells terrible and is terrifically adorable! We met at the Currimbin Wildlife Sanctuary today/ I generally don't like zoos: the caged animals seem to lead such confined, pathetic lives all for human amusement. But, mostly this one did not strike me that way.

The first animals we met were 3 camels tied into a train. Yes, I know they're not native to Australia but it was the first time I'd met a camel so it's still special. The trainer introduced me to the last camel in the chain, Sheba, and showed me how to pet her; they like scratches on the flat plate on the back of their head. I was amazed at how soft her woolly fur was and how long her eyelashes! She seemed like an exaggerated human woman in a way. When we mounted up on the camel in front of her Sheba lipped at my back...probably upset that I'd stopped petting. It was a fun ride! Camels rise and sit with an exhilarating abruptness and the one we rode tried to shake us off at one point.


Later we met the kangaroos and emus. It was very like a petting zoo; the animals milled around the enclosure and people could feed or pet them as they liked. A handler told us that kangaroos lived to be about 18 years old. The alpha male was pushing that age and had apparently fathered most of the creatures in the enclosure; he was sunbathing on a hill nearby, oblivious to the world and obviously enjoying his position. It's good to be the king! I pet a kangaroo with a joey in her pouch (see the feet?):

These animals are so completely domesticated! There were even kangaroos sleeping within 2 feet of the kiddy train! It felt a little less special interacting with them when they're practically vegetative.

The day ended with us feeding rainbow lorikeets. The birds are wild but have grown used to the public feeding times. Our friend, Alex, and I were handed bowls full of some watery food and told to hold them high. My shoulders started seizing up as I waited for the birds. Alex had a small flock after 10 minutes and still I waited. I think they must have sensed my catlike presence because they landed on people all around me but never me.
I nursed my patience and then, quite suddenly, a lorikeet landed on my arm and hopped towards the upraised dish. Then another, then 10. Some landed on my head before righting themselves. Their tiny claws dug into my arm as they scooted and fought for space. I had more than anyone! They were so close too! Their green bodies were vibrant and unspoilt. Red, yellow, and purple patches mapped their chests and heads. It was an incredible sensation to be so close, and I was still smiling stupidly at their claw-marks long after they flew away.

It was a good day.