Home Again, Home Again...

Well, tonight I find myself at the end of an adventure; in a few hours I will board an airport shuttle and begin the 20+ hour journey back to Denver. Aside from dreading the upcoming hours of cramped and unwashed conditions, I have also begun reflecting on my time here. What am I taking away from this experience? How do I even begin to quantify it? I've seen wondrous places and done things I've always wanted to...I've even stumbled across a few random delights like dingo-singing and koala-kissing. But how to wrap it into a tidy ball of self-realization? Such a tricky question!

I don't think I fully realize all the ways this trip has affected me. There have been obvious lessons learned (New Zealanders are to be avoided at all costs and koalas are faithless!) but the true benefits are more subtle. I've got some new lingo to flaunt and opinions on loads more things (oh joy!)...and then of course there are the souvenirs. I look forward to returning to the US (land of free refills and cheap food) and discovering just how my time on the other side of the world has affected me.

The one thing I do want to try for when I get back is to live life more like a tourist. The locals here were always startled at all the things Andrea and I did in their own city that they had never heard of! It's the zoning out of our constants that does it. If the ocean is always there, it is no longer special and the same with the mountains. How many Colorado natives no longer ski? It seems a shame to become accustomed to the uniqueness of our homes. I hope that in the future I will live life as a tourist in my own home: with a sense of wonder and appreciation for what I have.

Thank you, everyone, who has followed this blog and sent me lovely emails. I've loved hearing from you all and can't wait to see you again! But, I think it's best for both of us if we wait for the jet lag to pass. Until then: g'day!

Tip Toe-ing Through the Trees and To the Edge of the Sea!

Today's adventure was all about exploring the area around where we live: the gold coast. After renting a car we drove (on the left side of the road) all the way into the mountains for a tree top walk...which are apparently quite abundant in Australia. This walkway was rickety and old, made from wooden planks and resting 20m above the forest floor. Each plank had a small plaque with the name of one of the original patrons on it. Signs hung warning: only 6 people per span. This walkway was more yielding than the others I had found: it bounced and swayed under my weight, creaking slightly with each step. Old metal ladders climbed up a particularly huge tree and allowed visitors to scamper up for a better view.

After the treetop-walk, we sat down to eat at a picnic table nestled in a shady grove. Andrea's Belgian boyfriend (Mathieu) began to feed a particularly brave bird with a puffy yellow chest and black eyes. He marveled at how cute it was and ignored my declaration of it as a soulless, flying stomach. A moment later, there was a rustling in the bushes and a large male bush turkey burst out; his yellow wattle flapped with each step as he hopped onto the table and advanced towards our sandwiches. Now, Andrea is no fan of birds and she explained this to the turkey by standing on her bench and screaming at it while Mathieu and I waved and kicked it away. We were distracted with this persistent fellow when Andrea screamed again and pointed to the trees. 10 more birds sat watching the scene with their inky, hungry eyes. Just as I assured her the birds were harmless (and the male bush turkey made a frantic charge at a female who was trying to get in on the action) another yellow bird dove out of the trees and swooped down at Andrea, missing her head by inches. It was at this point that my lovely roommate made the calm and sensible decision to shriek and run for a more distant table; Mathieu and I gathered the picnic and followed after her, laughing. Within seconds of arriving at the new table, our bird-ish entorage was back. We all decide that eating in the car would be the wisest move and packed up once more. Refusing to be rattled by the birds, I kept the Doritos with me and stuffed one in my mouth as we began walking. Suddenly the world was a blur of yellow! The same bird that had swooped at Andrea was flying straight at my face trying to snag the Dorito from my mouth! Claws + beak + my face = increased motivation. I turned away from the bird and quickly ate the chip, then we all ran back to the rental car and finished lunch there.

You might be amazed by it, but we were still up for more fun after that. So we drove down the coast to Byron Bay: a place famous for its beauty and for being the most easterly point on the Australian mainland. It felt like stepping into a fairy-tale coastline! Steep ocean-side paths curved out of sight, dolphins were surfing the waves below, and a picturesque lighthouse watched over the whole scene. We wandered down to the official most-easterly point and then cut off to the beach for the sun set. The light was so bright on the bay waters that it looked like a field of snow to my eyes! On the beach there were odd designs in the sand, looking like flowers made of sand balls. My theory is that they were the work of sand crabs; but no matter how many of them I followed I never caught them in the act!

The sun set was lovely and everything around me was beautiful...but the thing that struck me most was that Byron Bay was the closest I had been to home in 4 months! I must admit I have grown homesick for the States: family, friends, accents, food, I even miss the US's more familiar form of bureacracy! Such a sucker, really. But! I'm flying home on October 1st...so not much longer to go at all.















*If I look grumpy in this photo it's because I had to climb all those quaint stairs to get there!

Discovering Brisbane

Brisbane is the third largest city in Australia, coming in behind Sydney and Melbourne. But, what it lacks in population and culture it makes up for in horrific fashion statements; you see, Brisbane is as 80's as slap bracelets and leg-warmers! Women strut their sweatshirt dresses as they glare at you from behind bug-eyed shades. So it was with an underwhelming sense of nostalgia that Andrea and I roamed the streets of Brisbane (can't be overwhelmed seeing as how we were born in '84).

The main attraction for our day was visiting Roma Street Parkland. This park sits just outside of central Brisbane in a converted rail yard. I expected to see signs of the old trains: rusty rails, old cars, maybe a restored depot with a themed-cafe...all mixed in with beautiful flowers. What we found was a lovely botanical garden and a free tour (almost as exciting)!

The gardens were filled flowers, exotic and ancient, divided by raised wooden platforms which were frequented by lizards! They lounged beneath our feet, fat and lazy, as our tour group moved past. The guide was a soft-spoken Chinese man who volunteered at the parkland. He seemed to decide that I was the youngest somehow and kept saying things like "You won't remember this, but..." and turning to my roomie. Who, I'll have you know, is only 4 months older than me!

Just as in Perth's King's Park, I had missed the full flower season by 3 weeks; so while some lilies and snapdragons peeked here and there, the guide was constantly apologizing for the "barren" garden. I also learned more about Queensland water drought than I had ever hoped to. When we weren't talking about the lack of flowers or water, the guide showed us some truly exotic plants. One species had been around since the age of the dinosaurs and actually had a male and female division. Girls outnumbered boys 6 to 2....good odds for an enterprising plant! Another tree was so rare that each new plant is sold by auction and comes complete with a birth certificate; scientists are blind-folded and air-lifted to the site to transplant them. Call me crazy, but that seemed a bit excessive for a plant! Especially since you don't even get to name it yourself. Each one is named after a dinosaur. But, I would defy that. If I had to compete for the privilege of buying this plant, I would name it "Joe" - Joe, the plant.

After the park we went to what appeared to be an aboriginal art museum but in fact was a show for ADD artists who have aboriginal-leanings. Having had that life experience, we went to the Museum of Brisbane which was entirely dedicated to a town rodeo which takes place each year. As thrilling and cultural as Brisbane was we hopped the train back home.

So long Brissie, and thanks for all the lizards!

Scandalous Koala Kissing!

I figured I would let everyone know the truth right now before rumors start kicking up: I fell in love last Saturday. It was love at first cuddle and a shameless display of koala-focused affection swiftly followed our meeting at Dreamworld amusement park. I knew the love of my life would find me soon! I just didn't think he'd be quite so furry!

His name is Manny: he's 2.5 yrs old with delightfully tufty-white ears and a soft nose. And our love would have been forever if it weren't for this photo:

Oh, Manny! How could you?! You broke my heart....you broke my heart...

Australian Graffiti

A picture is taking shape on the wall behind my apartment: jagged letters are filling with pulsing colors and twisting around murals - a team of graffiti artists is at work. They are working in plain sight, laughing and drinking beer only a few step from the busiest street in Surfers Paradise. And why not? The city hired them to do it!

I had heard of the unique status of Australian graffiti and, with such a perfect example only two hops away, my roomie and I decided to investigate. Within 5 minutes of talking to le artistes it was undeniable that they were high. We stood 8 feet back as they worked but I still felt my brainstem start to float away. Four artists had divided the wall between themselves and were spraying diligently while 3 more lounged with equal dedication in the shade. The team was headed by a set of middle-aged twins who own their own graffiti company. Companies hired them to design and execute artistic tributes throughout the city. These men had been in business for a decade, and worked all over Australia; I think it's the only country where a scheme like this could work!

In Sydney there are actually graffiti tours of the city! Graffiti is protected in the same way that historical buildings are in the U.S. If you purchased a graffiti'd building there is no guarantee that you'd be able to paint over it - the work may well have entered into the annals of Australian art and be untouchable, or rather un-touch-up-able. The famous Bondi Beach boasts a boardwalk tattooed with bulbous letters and grotesque caricatures, and cities all over Australia have started picking up the trend.
I am not entirely sure why this fascinates me so except that it seems a perfect illustration of the difference between the US and Australia. In the US graffiti is categorized as an "art crime" almost on par with violent hate crimes; in Australia it is glorified. So, is the USA just behind the times? Is graffiti the artistic wave of the future? Maybe. But did I mention the mural they are crafting is for a NASCAR race? Can you say klassy?