Southwestern Sayanara

My last shift at Matilda Bay behind me with the skyline of Perth, I was aboard a bus at 7 AM bound for the southwestern town of Esperance. My last trip in Australia, my last week down under, and a last bit of beach, wine, desert, and excessively long road trips. The trip from Perth to Esperance was over 800km, and that was just the first day of travel. Thankfully, there were a few stops to break the road up, worthy or not. The first stop falls into the latter category: it was a dog cemetery. Every year, all the farmers in the land and beyond put their dogs in the backs of their utes and parade past the cemetery to the nearby town Corrigin. There were somewhere near 1000 once upon a time, probably before everyone realized what a dull parade this would be. Prior to that, we stopped in one of Western Australia’s oldest towns, York, and grabbed a bit of breakfast. The jury is out on which was more interesting. We had lunch at Wave Rock, a large rock formation in the shape of a cresting wave, which was a much more interesting stop. Before long, we were in Esperance, eating lasagne and playing spoons. I think we have a pretty balanced group – fun but not outrageous, and definitely varied and interesting. Already I have lots of tips for Thailand from an Aussie who lived there a couple years. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The second day we spent completely in Esperance, which was a nice break from all the driving on day one. Our first stop was a climb up Frenchman’s Peak, which was pretty nice and offered panoramic views of the coast around Esperance. Back at the bottom, we went to Lucky Bay which was just stunning. The sand was as white as I’ve ever seen though the wind was fresh from Antarctica we still had a bit of a swim. Hellfire Bay was next, apparently named for a bit of St. Elmo’s fire happening on an explorer’s ship mast as he took refuge from a storm there. This was also a beautiful spot, we sat on the rock as the waves flew in past us and crashed maybe 20m below. I understood why people rate the beaches here so highly now. And that was BEFORE we took our little trip up the Twilight Road to see some of the other beaches closer in to the actual town; Esperance’s self-titled beach is one of my favourites. Or at least, it would be… until I came upon the Green Pools the next day.

Day three of our five day tour, Feb 20, brought us a long way once more. In fact we drove and drove and finally reached Porongurup National Park sometime after lunch, where we ascended Castle Rock in the late afternoon. The view was of scattered boulders – one balanced quite precariously – on the mountaintop and once we conquered those, of vast plains and mountains fogged by distance. Something like looking at the far western prairies of Alberta, I suppose. It was a nice walk up and, low and behold, I got reception with Vodaphone – the worst carrier in Australia, in my opinion – at the top. This was handy as I had to give my credit card details over the phone to an optometrist with whom I’d organized to get some more contacts dropped at Daren’s place. I also discovered that my iPod had been dropped off at Matilda Bay, presumably operating normally. Then back down and into Albany. While supper was being prepared, I went with Rowan and the Germans to a brewery down the street which did a nice white/wheat and blueberry beer. In fact, their pilsner was my favourite, but as you can tell I did some sampling. Back at the hostel, banana cake as an appetizer, spaghetti as a main, and more pints for dessert.

Day four was probably the best day of the trip. We were out of the hostel and on the road by 8AM, and it’s just as well, we had a lot of business to attend to that day. Our first stop, about 20 minutes later, was Natural Bridge. The rock here is an exact match with that found on the northern coast of Antarctica, which is pretty cool to think about. I remember feeling a breeze coming directly from the south and thinking that I was being called to explore the vast expanses of the south. Someday. Back in the real world, we got back on the bus and headed further along the coast to some blow holes. While water wasn’t coming out (luckily), massive blasts of air were. One of the Japanese girls on our trip volunteered her long hair to the blow hole and just about volunteered her shirt, too, when a deafening blast suddenly hit after a couple very mild ones. Then we were off to one of my favourite beaches in Australia, probably second after the Whitsundays – that is the Green Pools. The water was perfect, sheltered, and green, the sand white, and boulders were strewn everywhere, perfect for diving around and having a great time. The one boulder was a bit of a trick to climb but I got up my first time and had a couple jumps.

Not bad for a morning out. By noon, we were at a honey winery, sampling some tasty and some less tasty wines. I really liked their medium-dry wine, but I already have a bottle sitting in wait for my return to Perth. We were off to the toffee factory next for toffee and lunch, though lunch was hurried by a sudden downpour. Thankfully the rain let up long enough for us to do the treetop walk in the Valley of the Giants, which climbs up to 40m above the canopy. It was developed because the tingle trees below have some very delicate roots which don’t like being walked on all that much, and it’s become a huge attraction down here. Much more exciting was the diamond tree down the road, where you could climb 65 metres on pegs drilled into the side of the tree with no safety net really. It was the scariest thing I’ve done in Australia but really a great experience. That night, we had a house to ourselves and therefore a party and a big dinner to go with it. We played 20 questions and I was first Chewie and then Spock, which I guess means they’ve discovered I’m a geek. We all had a lot of fun that night.

Our final day we stopped at a chocolate factory, Flying Fish winery in Margaret River, and an aboriginal centre. The aboriginal centre has to be the best one of its kind in Australia, very hands-on and visual, including a tool-making demonstration. The amount of things they used the trees and rocks for is astounding – they even found a tree which could deoxygenate the water temporarily and thus send fish to the surface where they could easily be scooped. We also learned about their barbaric but effective punishment of crime. Steal a boomerang? Two warriors were dispatched to find you and bring you and it back, whereupon your hand was placed on a rock and another rock at the end of a stick was brought down with full force on your dominant hand, breaking every single bone and identifying you as a thief after you’d been outcast. No second chances here. If you managed to escape, you knew that after two weeks a family member would be taking the punishment for you. Prisons were not an issue.

Finally, we stopped by the Ngili caves which were quite spectacular. Lots of recording has been done down here and I can see why, the acoustics are great, nevermind the ambience. Our final stop was Busselton Jetty, the longest jetty in the world stretching 2km into the ocean. We got some ice cream, a group photo or two, and returned to Perth that Friday night. Saturday morning brought three hours of talk with everyone back home, some errands in the city, and a trip to Matilda Bay to collect my iPod, final pay and tips – which for some reason Belinda had sent away to the office instead of leaving for me to collect – and say goodbye. I got a ride back to the city with a couple of the chefs, ran a few errands, and went home where I ordered Eagle Boys pizza delivery and cracked open my bottle of Rockford Basket Press Shiraz. Janine was home not long after and we watched a show or two and finished the wine, which was much better with company.

Sunday, I met with some of the people from my tour and Janine for my first and last Sunday session – a Perth staple – in Cottlesloe. I met some of Janine’s and Daren’s friends there as well as a few of the tour folk, we had some drinks in the hot sun, played pool with some crazy Aussies, and before I knew it the sun was down on my trip to Australia. I was at the airport at seven Monday morning, on a Garuda Airlines flight by nine, and somewhere between scenes of the inflight movie (The Ex) I caught my last glimpse of Australia, a reverse oasis; a sprawling desert paradise in my middle of the ocean, an immense piece of land so large that it is largely taken for granted and forgotten. I looked back out the window again; an empty ocean stared back at me.

Southwest Australia PhotosRead More...

Western Far

Tasmania disappeared on the horizon as I winged my way back to Melbourne on Friday, Jan 19. I had four days to say a final farewell to Melbourne before returning to Perth, work, and one last month in Australia. I caught up with Alex at his place, where he was kind enough to let me crash again. We were going to go out that night but Alex was still under the weather a bit from the night prior, so I met up with Andrew in St. Kilda and grabbed a few drinks and some food. Sunday was spent wandering around Melbourne, stopping, of course, at Stalactites for a souvlaki and to say hello to Paris, Nicole, and Vicky. I spent the next day home fixing up some of the very major problems that appeared when we moved FrankBlack.Net to a new server. In fact, I spent day and night doing that, which was a big pain, but it was a relief to finally have it working again and one less monkey on my back. Tuesday morning I met up with Melinda to go to the Australian Open tennis. She brought a full picnic once again from the Victoria markets and we watched several matches in the very reasonably priced outdoor. I’m not much of a tennis fan, but there were players there that even I recognized. Sharapova was playing in the much more pricey arena that night and Melinda and I managed to catch a game between the Williams sisters and some Chinese doubles. It was great to see these athletes so closely doing what they do better than almost anyone. I caught up with Catherine for a beer or two at Transport bar, once more with Andrew (I was trying to meet up with Ferg as well, but it just didn’t work out) and then I was off the next morning (Jan 23) back to Perth.

My first day back at work was Jan 27, the day after Australia Day. Daren picked me up at the airport, which was very good of him. I should mention that Alex also dropped me off at the airport in Melbourne, which was likewise very appreciated – it’s a pain getting very expensive shuttles really early in the morning to and from the airport. I had drinks with Daren and Janine that evening, spent the next day running around town getting some errands done (including immunizations for Asia!) and clothes cleaned, and Friday went into Matilda Bay for Adam’s farewell dinner. I probably – ok, I definitely – had a drink or two too many on an empty stomach. There was food, but it was all finger foods and as a result of one of my shots I hadn’t eaten anything all day except that. So it was that the next morning, Australia Day, I was in dire need of a greasy breakfast. Daren obliged in the traditional Australian fashion – a BBQ.

Meanwhile, it turned out that another friend from Saskatoon was in Perth, Brett Marcoux, and we had arranged to meet up at Daren’s Australia Day party and bring some Canadian camaraderie to this celebration of Australiana. It was a great day, and I was glad to not only be at Daren’s for it, but in Perth, where it’s probably the biggest holiday of the year. I caught Sydney’s New Years fireworks and I caught Perth’s Australia Day fireworks. Not to mention two BBQs of goodies, some great home brewed beer by Dazza, and various shenanigans on the foreshore of South Perth. Brett crashed at Daren’s and took the bus with me in the morning as I rode off to work. My first day back at work I was a little nervous about, but I really hadn’t forgotten as much as I was afraid I may have. And comically enough, the next day on the bus to work, who should be sitting there but Brett. The strangeness of this occurrence was a little overwhelming. When I got off the bus yesterday to transfer, he had stayed on. The girl behind us had heard us talking and discovered that we were both Canadians and Brett was looking for somewhere to stay that night. She invited him to tag along with her for the day (they were both Fremantle bound) and he wound up staying at her place, not far up the road from Daren’s, the next night. So it was that leaving her place that morning he was on the same bus line and at the same time as me.

I didn’t see much of anyone or anything but work until that Sunday when a day I had long been looking forward to finally arrived: Big Day Out. Yes, this landmark of Australian music festivals was bringing Arcade Fire, Spoon, Augie March, Paul Kelly, Rage Against The Machine, and more right to Perth, and I had a ticket. Brett had a ticket. Daren and Janine and their friends had tickets. Avram had a ticket. Friends from work all had tickets. It was going to be a great day. We arrived in style, Beno, one of Daz’s friends, drove us in nice and early and we beat the lines for tickets, drinks, and several small bands I was hoping to see. I met up with Brett and we saw Spoon and Arcade Fire together. Both were disappointing, but I feel that this is the nature of festivals. Like traveling, a festival is akin to a whirlwind tour of Europe. You see all the sights but don’t really experience the culture. Whereas an individual show is more like sitting at the café and really absorbing one band.

Add to this that Arcade Fire’s sound and energy is lost on a grand plain with lots of people who know them only in name and weren’t really too excited and Spoon was relegated to a small stage that was largely forgotten and it explains why, I suppose. Don’t get me wrong, I quite enjoyed seeing them live, both were great, it just wasn’t what I was hoping for. The only band that really impressed me was Paul Kelly, and I think that was because he was up against Rage. I would’ve stuck around for Rage but I could neither see nor be close to them in any way, it was like everyone at the festival was there for them. So Paul Kelly’s fans were excited, ravenous, and, let’s face it, the man put on a great show. He reminds me a bit of FB&C’s, which is a good thing, and I am thoroughly happy I checked him out instead of hanging out so I could name-check Rage in my “bands I’ve seen – sort of” list.

After Big Day Out, there’s little to report. I’ve been working as much as possible to save up for Asia, I’ve discovered that I should get about half the tax I’ve paid back, I’m now (hopefully) immune to several unpleasant Asian afflictions, and I have my tickets booked. I fly to Denpasar (Bali) on Feb 25th, to Singapore (tentatively) on Mar 18th, and home from Beijing (subject to change) on Aug 5th. I also booked a whirlwind tour of the south west, the as yet only remaining area of Australia for me to explore. Well, sure, there are plenty of things I missed, like the Simpson desert and outback New South Wales for a start, but I feel like, with this done, I will have seen everything I wanted to here in Australia. Meanwhile, Brett has taken off to New Zealand, leaving on Friday Feb 8. We were supposed to go to Rottnest that day but it didn’t work out with his flight, so instead we grabbed lunch at Little Creatures Brewery – chili mussels and two pizzas. And many more beer. It was a great way to spend an afternoon, and a very Perth thing to do. We’ll hopefully meet up somewhere in Asia for a few days, it was great to catch up with him and I’m sure we’ll both have plenty more stories by then.

Daren likewise is gone, which means I’m looking after his place. It would be nice to have him around but he’s up north with Janine doing a little travel of his own, and it is also nice to have a place to myself. I haven’t really had much of that as you might imagine. Still, there are times I’d like to come home and have someone to have a drink with. I guess you can’t have it both ways. At this point I have two shifts left of work – Valentine’s Day and Sunday the 17th. I can’t believe how fast the end is coming to my year in Australia. I can’t believe how fast one year came and went since I left home on Jan 15th. A lot has happened at home and abroad since then including the passing of my pappou – my Greek grandfather – one year to the day after my departure from Canada. I discovered this when I made a payphone call from Lake St Clair in Tasmania to wish my mom a happy birthday on the 17th of Jan, which was the 16th back home. They’d been trying to get a hold of me and of course I was out of reception completely. I never did get to know him all that well as a result of my poor Greek and his poor English, and that’s probably what is most upsetting about it. But the world keeps spinning down here as up there and each day brings change. I will have to spend some time with my aunts and uncles when I get home to try and piece together some of that history so that it is not lost to me for good.

But looking back at my own history, in particular this last year and all the adventures I’ve undertaken across this great land, life has been good, it has been interesting, and it has been better than I could wish for. Perfect by no means, but perhaps better. I hope that everyone following along is likewise finding and doing things they enjoy in this grand adventure we have all of us embarked upon, and I look forward to our trails crossing in the future. Until then, my path will continue to be charted here as I finish in Australia and venture into the Asian unknown.

Australia Day Photos
Big Day Out PhotosRead More...

Wild West Tasmania

I actually woke up early for once; despite going to bed at 12:30, I was up at 5:40 and on the road with Andrew about an hour after that. As it was only the two of us, the itinerary was pretty much whatever I wanted within reason. We stopped for breakfast in Westbury and looked at a big map they have on the wall of Tasmania. As Chelsea would say, “It looks like a heart!” The itinerary was a stop in some caves, a short walk in Cradle Mountain national park, and then camp. But I saw the Walls of Jerusalem park, which I’d heard was beautiful right beside it, so the next thing I knew, we were making steam for the Moses Creek track, a track that is classified “T-4: No groups over four, no publication or images, etc”. That is, when we were actually on the track, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I would later refer to the track as the “Lord of the Rings” track, because you kept thinking it was the end and then half an hour later, you were still not at the troopy. But we did find our way back… eventually.

We started out in the conventional way. Fairly clear track, walk along it, la dee da, fork in the path, which way do we go? But soon we got onto a much less used track. To give you an idea of remoteness, we would be on this track for 9 hours of arduous hiking and not see another soul. We trekked through forest and came across an area that had burned about 10 years ago and not though it no longer looked charred it was definitely still a clearing. The next clearing we came to was a peaty meadow-bog, which had a grand looking mountain on the horizon. Mount Ragoona, I was told, and was surprised to learn it was our destination today. Not only was it high up there but it was not exactly nearby. We closed the gap by going off trail and far more vertical than winding our way along the track on the backside. This was a great success, and we were up in record time. Andrew thought we might as well go down the other side and around to a trail along a different lake and have a different hike back, which I liked the idea of. Sure, a little more tramping off-track, no problem. What that meant, I would soon learn, was rock climbing down part of the face (not too far, thankfully) and walking under, around, over, and usually right through thick bush. Combined with a long walk up and a treacherous trek down, this was exhausting. Not only was my knee getting sore but I was getting physically exhausted. Had I known we still would be walking 4 hours later, I might’ve stumbled and collapsed right there, probably right onto a snake; snakes were just one thing to worry about. And then we kept going and going and not finding the trail. We were supposed to hit it right before the lake but we were just about on top of the lake and, given the increasingly late hour, even Andrew was starting to worry when finally we hit it. Yes, it still took a long time to get back, but at least not slogging through scrub.

We made it back to the car at 6:30, which made it the longest walk Andrew had ever taken anyone on commercially. To celebrate and soothe our aching legs, we went an extra 40 km to get some beer. It definitely hit the spot. Camp was nice, they had showers and everything there, and I was out like a light not long after the sun. The next day, we went to Cradle Mountain after helping another guide get her van started – the other guide had left the lights on. It didn’t take much and we were standing at one end of Dove Lake looking up as it reflected Cradle Mountain looming over top. It was a beautiful sight to behold and we had perfect weather, nary a cloud in the sky. We made our way up to Marion’s Lookout looking over Crater Lake and while Andrew had a sandwich, I ran up further hoping for some better shots of the lake. Instead, Barn Bluff was sitting over the ridge waiting for me. But it was not to be. Back down and on the road, iPod cranked, sun shining, and a nice cold Boags in my hand and we were on the road looking for somewhere to camp. We crossed the Pieman river and took a bit of a jaunt up a road that Andrew had blockaded (it cut the world’s then-largest temperate rainforest in two and is now known by locals as the ‘Road to Nowhere’) when he was 18. There was nothing to see but forest on either side though, so I didn’t feel too bad about it.

We set up camp nice and early, much earlier than the previous night. Andrew put on some Xavier Rudd, John Butler, and then a third guy he’d heard of from a Canadian friend with some sitar. It was strange to look at the fire with this music – one of the logs looked like a dragon’s face, one that was unhappy – possibly because it was burning? The smoke came at me not long after I flunked this Rorschach test, as though it were being blown from the dragon’s mouth. I clumsily leaned to try to get out of the smoke and it followed as I almost fell out of my chair. Flames started to lick from the would-be dragon’s mouth as the sitar played loudly in the background, and the smoke relented and swung over to Andrew. He closed his eyes and time seemed to slow. It was a weird moment, I didn’t think he’d outlast the dragon and smoke engulfed him as white flakes of ash danced in the air. The smoke kept coming and he sat meditatively. And then, when I thought he could hold his breath no more, the smoke drifted away and he opened his eyes like nothing had happened. I had just witnessed an epic battle between man and nature, and he had no idea. I thought to myself that this must be what it’s like on some sort of hallucinogenic drug. As long as my imagination is this overactive, not only do I not need them (or want them), but it might be downright dangerous for me! At the very least, it told me that I should stop imagining I have any ability to write fiction.

The next day, we took a hike up Mount Donaldson, which was supposed to give nice views of the surrounding Tarkine forest and the ocean, but the weather was clouded and misty and we could only just make out the slightly darker line of the ocean on the horizon. We took a trip further down the coast and had lunch where the group normally camps. The west coast is open sea all the way to South Africa, so the surf is huge. Even on a day like today, where the waves were calm it was still an intimidating sight. We made our way further along to Zeehan for a chai latte and covered a lot of ground that afternoon, making our way on to a long a rugged 4WD track just past Lake St Clair which led to a pretty nice camp site. That allowed us to get an early start the next morning and have a good day hike in the lake area. The weather had been misty and cloudly all the previous day, so it was very nice that we had absolutely perfect weather. We climbed Mt Rufus into the sun, which offered some great views of the lake and valleys along. As it was such a clear day and the air was recently washed of impurity by yesterday's rain, we could see all the way to Frenchman's Cap and beyond from the top. The track back down was long and mostly uninteresting beyond the first bits, which were in 'marsupial lawns', grassy meadows in the middle of the scrub and of course walking along a ridge returning to earth.

Camp that night was the best campsite so far, on the shores of Pine Tier Lagoon, a very Austrian-looking lake. On top of having a bit of a much-needed swim, we had a little wildlife show as a mother possum with a baby on top was lurking around camp and then a quoll was bounding around as well. We thought they might scrap it out but there was no fight that night. My final day in the bush was a trip down to Mt. Field National Park, home of the famed Russell Falls, which is probably the most impressive waterfall in Australia as well as a couple smaller falls, Horseshoe and Lady Barron. I did a circuit of all three while Andrew went to make lunch, as well as the Giant Tree walk. The giant tree walk is just that, a circuit among the tallest hardwood trees in the world, Eucalyptus Regnas. Some of these trees were 27 stories high. If you were to put one of these trees in downtown Saskatoon, it would make the highest mark in the sky. Only the redwoods of California, which are a softwood, are taller in all the world.

I did the loop and walked to what I thought was Russell Falls but was actually Horseshoe, and then down to Lady Barron falls after that. Then I returned to camp to discover I had not seen the main attraction and whatsmore, after dropping me off, Andrew had seen a Platypus. A Platypus!! I've been trying my whole time here to see a platypus and there was one right by our camp while I was wandering around in the woods thinking I should've stopped by a washroom before my hike. I went along the river hoping to spot it, but to no avail, and then came back and had hamburgers. Andrew and I hiked up to Russell Falls which was not running at full strength with the drought, but was still incredible, especially with a little imagination. There was a wildlife park nearby and we stopped there as there are supposed to be plenty of platypi around. Again, no luck. We also went up to some more really tall trees that were slated to be cut down until some protesters managed to save them, but the amount saved was not exactly generous. Then back to Hobart, for some pizza, a stay with Kerri (another couch surfer), and I was off to Melbourne and civilization once more.

West Coast Tasmania PhotosRead More...

Under Down Under

I arrived at my Hobart hostel, City Central Backpackers, exactly when I predicted. The stroke of noon. The flight down to Tasmania, the last state to be explored on my rapidly concluding Australian journey, was pretty uneventful. My laptop battery didn’t last long playing a game of Civilization IV (when was the last time I played a computer game, I don’t know) and so I got started on my new book, The Kite Runner, which Daren and Janine had given me for Christmas. As much as I’d enjoyed reading Xenophon’s take on Socrates, I was looking forward to a more entertaining read, and right from the book’s first line, it delivered. But I digress. I met a Swiss guy on the bus into town staying at my hostel, and we chatted a bit as the bus crossed the Tasman bridge and the sky was suddenly filled with kites. It turned out, rather befitting my new book, there was a kite festival in town. As we couldn’t check in for an hour anyway, the two of us wandered in a direction we thought would take us back there. It didn’t, in fact, it was the complete opposite direction, but as someone once told me, “Adventure comes from poor planning” and indeed it did.

Having realized our mistake, by which I mean my mistake, we wandered back in the proper direction and took a walk through Battery Point en route to the park. I’d called Leo, a CouchSurfer, a local expert of sorts that invited Flavic (my Swiss friend) and I to take a spin with him to the top of Mt. Wellington and see the views. So, all that walking and we wound up back at the hostel instead, to check in and put our bags in our room before Leo met us at the botanical gardens. Unfortunately, ‘our’ room meant my room and his room, which had different numbers, floors, and locations, and we didn’t cross paths again. I went on to the kite festival myself, and noted, not for the first time, at how friendly Tasmanians are. Hardly a hint of the spinning dervishes I was expecting. Then, on to a quite long walk to the botanical gardens, through the memorial to the 500 Tasmanians that had died in the great wars (one tree for each soldier), where I looked around, snapped some photos, and read a lot more of my increasingly excellent book.

Leo met me there, eventually, and we drove up to the top of Mt. Wellington as promised. It’s a hard place to get to, unless you have wheels, which I was seriously contemplating. Tours up here are pricey and there’s no bus, but there WAS a long trail. It would’ve been doubly long as it was quite chilly at the top and I don’t have much left in the warm clothes department. We got some nice shots and Leo described the history, geography, and layout of his new home in Hobart. He kind of reminds me of Terry a bit, actually, and we got along pretty well. I met his two roommates and we had a bit of dinner there before meeting another CSer for coffee, whose name was Kerri. She was pretty nice, too, and I thought that I should’ve gotten more involved in this whole CouchSurfing community much sooner. Then we all parted ways and my first day in Tasmania was over.

The next morning, I got my life in Tassy sorted. I tried to figure out if there were any ‘adventure’ tours, by which I meant multi-activity. A bit of trekking here, climbing there, and so on. One of the things I really wanted to do in Tasmania was the Overland track, an eight day hike through some amazing terrain, but as I considered the other things I wanted to see and do and the fact that I had booked my flight back to Perth for the 23rd of January from Melbourne, time was not on my side. I found a company, TasSafari, that did do a lot of day hikes into some nice scenery over about 10 days, and given it was already the 7th of Jan and I really only had two weeks anyway, that sounded about right. It would give me a few days in Melbourne (I booked a flight that morning for the 19th) and let me get a rough scraping of the island, which was probably the best I could hope for. You can’t see and do it all, you really can’t. So I booked a tour leaving Hobart on Wednesday the 9th, and my Tasmanian experience was sorted. Having done this, I stopped by a travel agent to chat about my trip into Asia and was a bit discouraged that the requirements for proof-of-intent-to-depart were so strict.

I soothed my thoughts on this with a nice piece of pastitsio at a Greek restaurant in Salamanca Square, one of the better ones I’ve had from a restaurant (still nothing compared to Aunt Nicky’s), and sat in the sun reading my book. It reminded me of the month I spent in Crete, sitting in a café, reading my textbooks with a bowl of Greek salad and eventually yogurt and enjoying the afternoon. I felt relaxed here in Tasmania almost instantly. I walked around the city for a while and then met up with Kerri, who picked me up for a BBQ at her place where we also met another CSer, a Belgian named Will. We had a good barbecue, some nice wine, and a good chat before calling it a night. The following day, I got a few supplies, met up with Will for dinner and met a girl named Clare and some of her friends who were good fun, and played Wii and music and had drinks. When I was walking home, a girl pulled over to ask me where I was heading and if I wanted a lift, presumably because of my backpack and Canadian flag. Yes, these Tasmanians are a friendly bunch, and Hobart certainly was good to me.

Bright and early the next morning, 6:15 to be precise, I was leaving all that goodness behind and venturing up the east coast. I met my fellow travelers in our 4WD, loaded my bags, and jumped on. Mostly older people, though an Italian, Fabio, was my age, but they were all pretty nice. We drove up the Tasman peninsula to Port Arthur, a historic place where Tasmania’s first convicts were kept in quite brutal conditions. The security for the place was a line of hungry dogs on chains and the fact that it was otherwise isolated by water. Then we drove down to the peninsula’s southern point and walked, I’d say a good 15km to Cape Raoul, which was a beautiful walk. It starts in the forest making its way for the coast which is framed with some of the highest seacliffs in Australia. Once upon a time, a whole bunch of hot magma forced its way to the surface, only to stop short, buried by a bunch of soft sedimentary rock which over time was eroded away again. The result is a bunch of columns of rock shooting straight into the sky like the water being dashed against its face far below. There were plenty of spectacular views and it was a definite walk off the beaten track.

We caught dinner at camp, which was a bit late because our camp spot had been taken and we had to track down another one. Fabio and I shared a tent, we all shared some Boags, and we sat around the campfire and watched the stars start flickering on. My knee has been acting funny after lots of exertion lately, and it was pretty sore the next morning; I was and am a little worried about it, actually. We walked to Wineglass Bay anyway, because of clouds we didn’t climb to the top of Mt. Amos, and once it warmed up my knee wasn’t so bad. Wineglass Bay is an isolated beach on the opposite side of the peninsula from the main road, so the only way in is to hike. It is so named because the curvature makes it look like a giant wineglass filled with absynth. Again our weather was not so cooperative, but we went down to the beach anyway as the cloud finally started to break. It was beautiful from the bottom, bordered by orange-tinged rock (rusted iron deposits) and forest, and the sun was peeking out from time to time from the racing clouds not too far above. We set out for our second camp in an abandoned town on a mountaintop. The town is gone, but grassy plains remain and a lot of trails to nearby mountains and views. We had what has to be one of the best dinners I’ve had since I took Daren and Janine out to dinner, topped off with chocolate bananas (my first attempt at them) and I took a quick run up to the top of the nearest mountain before the sun went down.

The next morning we went back to that same mountaintop, and it was even more spectacular as the clouds rolled around in the valley below. We took a second walk through some forest to another lookout, and then did two walks in the Blue Tier forest. It’s a little bit sad that the Blue Tier forest is slated for logging. Normally, it would be protected as old growth forest (in other words, forest that has never been replanted) but as the result of a trench running through it, the entire forest is instead ‘re-growth’ and I hate to think that in a few years it won’t be there at all. Hopefully something is done about this silly classification system. Anyway, it was beautiful. There were some massive, massive trees (one 20m in diameter), lots of very old and tall fern trees, and a beautiful creek running through. We had lunch near the largest tree, which had a hollow cave in it that could probably fit 15-20 people and climbed back up. After some more backroads driving, we were off to Launceston to end the eastern leg of our trip with some parmy and delicious Boags beer. Now I have three nights here before catching the western side of the island-state and wrapping up my Tasmanian adventure.

The three nights in Launceston went quite fast. My first day was the arrival, which was marked by going out for dinner with the group. The second day, I walked around the city centre and bought some more shorts for the warmer climes and did the approximately 10km walk around Cataract Gorge, a beautiful gorge that’s literally a ten minute walk from the city centre. I walked all the way to the Duck Reach power station, which is pretty remote, and there were lizards everywhere sunning themselves on rocks. I was really hoping I didn’t come across a snake and kept a keen eye out but it wasn’t my day to get scrappy with the locals thankfully. On the walk they have a free swimming pool right on the river running through the gorge not to mention the nice walk. A very impressive park to have in a city. My final day I had planned to bike up to the Tamar Valley and do a bit of the wine circuit, but the wind was against the idea from the start, so I settled for a tour. And before I knew it, I was getting ready for bed to get up and head off into the wild west of Tasmania for a 5 day trip back to Hobart. Cradle Mountain, Lake St Clair, and who knows what else is on the itinerary, but I happen to know that I’m the only one booked on the tour and Andrew is my guide once again, so we should be pretty flexible and able to do some unique things. We’re leaving the trailer behind to get to some really off-the-tourist-track type locales. But that’s enough foreshadowing for now, I’ll see you soon.

Hobart Photos
East Coast Photos
Launceston PhotosRead More...

White (Hot) Christmas

As Christmas approached, I began to accept more and more that there would be no Christmas here for me. In addition to being all about family, all the usual cues were absent. Snow, cold, Christmas carols (I don’t listen to the radio, so I don’t hear anything of the sort), all absent. The decorations are definitely up, but I just wasn’t feeling it. The restaurant was busy, definitely that’s a Christmas-time cue, and then it completely died the weekend following Christmas. Then Christmas day came. I dressed for work like any other day, went downstairs, and Daren and Janine were sitting down by the Christmas tree wearing their red hats and telling me Santa had been by. And he got me a red hat too, not to mention a book called The Kite Runner. I have to say that this gesture and waking up to find people in the home besides me made me feel like it was indeed Christmas and there was something special about today. But special or not, I still had to go to work...

I got there early because it was going to be a very big day. And a hot day. In fact, it was 44 degrees Celsius, setting a record and giving Perth the distinction as being the hottest city on Earth that day. I showed up early so I could use the phone to call home, where it was still Christmas Eve, and wish my family a merry Christmas, and then it was time to run around and get everything done. Santa needed to know where to stand, what to do. Christmas menus needed to be on the tables. More salt and peppers needed to be found. Since we were adding a ‘starter’ course, more entrée cutlery needed to be found, too. And then it was noon, we opened the doors, and things went just fine. Sure, the power went out for about 45 minutes thanks to the fact that all our coolers and air conditioning overloaded the circuits, but we trucked on and everybody was quite happy with their meals. Even given the fact that they had prepaid for their meals and only had to settle their drink tab, we still got $600 in tips, which is pretty unheard of here in Australia.

We worked until about 5:30, and then Adam, Cam, and I caught a cab to Scannell’s where a Christmas party was just warming up. A bit of a swim, a few drinks, some bbq, and since we had Boxing Day off for our staff party, Cam and I didn’t want to get too revved up today, so we grabbed a cab home to rest for what would be our real Christmas. Doug and Tom arranged to pick me up and they were a bit late. We were supposed to be at the East St Jetty by 10:30 AM and we were picking up another couple at that point instead. I was worried we were going to miss the boat but we got there just in time to help load up. Whew. It was another scorcher, 45 degrees today, a beautiful shiny day to spend on a boat on turquoise waters sailing out to an island and going for a swim and BBQ. This day was a true Australian Christmas and I was so happy to have been here for it. We set off to the island and parked. You could see a bunch of sea lions sunning themselves on the beach, so I took a swim out there. I wish I could’ve brought my camera, I would’ve had some amazing photos, they really didn’t like being approached TOO closely, but I could get within 10 metres of them sunning and others alert on guard and it was just amazing to me to have them sitting there in the wild and to be right there watching.

I also donned my red santa hat and went for a swim and Crown Lager in the perfect waters and of course took part in the delicious buffet Warwick had provided. Steaks, scallops, prawns, lamb, salads, you name it, it was there. We drank champagne, we ate like kings, and sat on the beautiful waters enjoying the fruits of a very busy Christmas season. But all good things must come to an end, and we found the shore far too soon and after a bit of a situation involving someone stealing drugs from the ship’s medical kit, we were at the Newport having a few drinks, then at Megan’s house making what I can only imagine would be a horrible mess for the next day. I feel pretty bad for her.

I had the next day for recovery, and Daren made dinner, I made dessert, and we say around chatting before going to sleep. Then, some packing, and I was on a plane on the 28th for Sydney, where I would be celebrating New Years Eve. Virgin Blue, not as bad as I thought it would be, they even gave us free TV since the reception was so poor, but after watching a segment on an assassination in Pakistan – I’m so disconnected from world events here, both a nice feeling and disconcerting – I wound up typing up this blog and captioning some photos anyway. My pre-New Years resolution is to get this site back up to date before I leave Sydney, and I’m pretty on track to doing that I think. Anyway, I arrived in Sydney at 7PM and the North Sydney line was closed so I wound up on a bus and then not knowing exactly where I was. Carrying around all my stuff and trying to figure it out with sunburnt shoulders wasn’t as pleasant as it might’ve been, but I found Diane’s finally, and had some nice wine (yup, Rockford) with her and Craig.

The next day I went and picked up some hiking shoes since there were boxing day sales still on; I’ll need them for hiking in Tazzy and probably Asia, too. Then I met up with Jill, whom I met up in Darwin back in September, and Mel for some drinks in Darling Harbour. They were off for dinner and I decided that I’d watch Beowulf in the IMAX since I’d been wanting to see how this “new 3D” phenomenon I’ve been hearing so much about was going to pay off. To be honest, the movie itself wasn’t that interesting and the technology, while definitely adding a dimension to the show, didn’t seem that incredible to me. I guess years of 3D at theme parks and whatever has made it seem gimmicky instead of immersive, which is something I don’t think you want when you’re trying to generate verisimilitude. Maybe as more movies are made in 3D it won’t be as distracting. The next day was more catch up, another movie (No Country for Old Men) which was excellent, and grabbing supplies for my New Years Eve picnic. I got a hold of Andrew, who was coming down from Newcastle, Nathalie, who was coming up from Melbourne, and the English girls, and it seemed that everyone was content to meet at Mrs. Macquaries Chair, which is just as well, because that’s where I was going regardless.

So I woke up at 8AM the next morning, got ready and packed for the day, and was at the ferry by 9, though one didn’t come until 9:30. I knew the line would be growing and I really wanted to stake out a good spot – the gates opened at 10. I made my way straight to the line up and discovered it was HUGE. From the front gates I though I could see the end of the line way down the street, but it was just a slight curve and it kept going down Art Gallery Road, past the gallery, into Domain park, and wrapping around. I thought about walking all the way back and trying to sneak in, but no, it was my own fault for getting here at 9:45 instead of 7:45, so I bit the bullet and joined the line at the back. I made quick friends with some Americans in front of me and we had a pretty good time even waiting in line for the 3000 people ahead of us to have their bags searched. It took an hour and a half to get to the front, and they didn’t even search my backpack, I definitely could’ve brought in some champagne or spirits, but oh well. We spent a bit of time debating spots and I found one that I could fit that had a great view, but I couldn’t fit all my newfound American friends with me nor even any of the people that were supposed to be meeting me later, so I went for a different spot with them which still had a pretty decent view though no breeze. And it was HOT. This was probably the best decision I made that day, however, as it was good fun throughout the afternoon.

The park kept filling throughout the day and soon we had a friendly guy from Finland in front of us, Andrew showed with his Columbian friend, Nicholas, Nathalie showed with (eventually) her German friends, and some of Amber’s friends showed too. Although we were at the park 14 hours before midnight, the time flew. We played cards, chatted, drank, and joked around. Every hour from 1PM onward, something different was happening. The theme was “Having the time of our lives” and it was very appropriate for the day. Skywriters writing things like “Time Flies”, tiger moth biplanes doing stunts, cannon firings, and the list goes on. The sunset, a boat light show/parade, and then the first major event, the family fireworks at 9PM. Well. They were great. They put an hourglass on the bridge this year and it dropped a little ‘sand’ grain every five minutes until 9 and then thereafter. I was thinking they were going to have a tough time topping the family fireworks. Amber and I rejoined the gang from our vantage point and hung around until 10. Then, I decided I wanted to get a good spot now for the midnight fireworks, so I went with Nathalie and got a spot right on the water, or as close as we could get at any rate. Nobody else was interested apparently, but it was so worth it.

The countdown began and every five minutes another grain of sand and the circle around the clock lit 1/12 more. It was getting very exciting. 15 minutes left. 5 minutes. And then the pillars on the bridge started their countdown… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1. Pandemonium. Fireworks everywhere. “Happy New Year!” being screamed by 22000 people also in the park with us. Fireworks off the bridge, the hour glass turned over, and kept turning and then spinning, the water reflecting the shining skies. Off boats to the right, and in the distance, far away but over the opera house, the main firework show (they do the same fireworks throughout the harbour, except for the bridge, which was a special treat for those in the centre). And then they started launching them off skyscrapers in the city centre. It was a panorama of explosions and beauty and it just kept escalating. Especially the fireworks off the boats, it just seemed like they could get any bigger or more frequent, but they did. I tried to capture a bit with video and photos, but without a tripod and an ultra-wide angle lens, I might as well have been trying to capture the entirety of the Great Wall of China from 30m back. And then came the finale, which literally dropped my jaw and camera. A ‘waterfall’ of white lava off the bridge, fireworks in every direction, colour, shape, and size. 3D fireworks. All at once and the most amazing pyrotechnic display I’ll probably ever see. The New Year had reached Sydney and I thought there wasn’t a better way to conclude a year down under or start 2008. This was the grand feeling we always try to get on New Years but are always disappointed by when it turns out to be like any other night on the town.

We left the park and Andrew and I crashed at Amber’s place, the York hotel right in the city. The next morning we had breakfast with her and her parents and they all went to Manly, which I was going to join them on, but by the time I’d ferried to North Sydney, changed, got my swimming stuff, showered, and got a ferry back, it was going to be 5:30 before I got there. I got on the ferry anyway, thinking I’d grab a bite in Manly anyway if I missed them, but then as I sat on the ferry it was delayed and more delayed and 30 minutes later I decided I’d had enough. So I went and saw another movie, The Golden Compass which was surprisingly good. I’m definitely looking forward to a sequel. I saw Bee Movie the next day, which was likewise good, clean, Seinfeldian fun - the glut of movies is in part because I had a bit of fever and achyness and wasn't up for much else. When life gives you lemons, go see a movie! But my holidays have been anything but a lemon. The final two days were, admittedly, marred by some severe technical issues with FrankBlack.Net, but my stay in Sydney comes to an end tomorrow morning, when I fly to Tasmania for a couple weeks of exploration, outdoors, and hopefully not too much internet. But the conclusion of this post marks the first time my blog has been up to date since the beginning of August, so at least all my work has come to something. I'll let you know what my Tasmanian adventures come to soon.

Christmas Photos
New Years PhotosRead More...

RePerth

Finally, the time had come to return to Perth, work, and put my trip back on track. It was sad to leave Melbourne again. I love that city, I really do. But I have to go through once more to see Tasmania, so I suppose it’s really not that sad at all. So I arrived in Perth mid-afternoon, grabbed the shuttle, and checked into the YHA. It’s not a bad place and on the CBD side of the tracks, but it’s expensive and overpriced; it’s $32/night for a room. I wanted to go back to Emperor’s Crown, but it was booked until Sunday, so it was time for ingenuity. I would spend the night in Perth, go to Rottnest Island and spend the day and night there tomorrow, and come back to Perth on Friday. Yes, I hear you. Brilliant. Thank you! I ran errands and did a bit of job hunting before everything started to close and got myself an interview with a nice restaurant on Saturday (given that I arrived at 2:30, I thought this was pretty slick),. Then I caught up with Tanja, who I met last time I was here, and we booked a trip to Rottnest Island, or at least we tried to. The whole island goes incommunicado at 5PM. But we decided to take our chances anyway and go down to the ferry wharf in the morning.

So the next morning at 8AM, we were on the wharf and had tickets for Rottnest Island, but unfortunately, no accommodation. It’s getting to be that time of year. So we made a day trip of it, which I think was a great idea anyway. The ferry ride from Perth along the Swan river to Fremantle on the Indian Ocean was beautiful, we had some muffins and snacks and it was a perfect day for a boat ride. The trip across the channel to Rottnest was similarly pleasant. We got there, had ourselves a sandwich, grabbed a couple of bikes, and rode most of the way around the island. The sea breeze picked up a little early, so it was a bit of a struggle on the way to the point, but coming back was with the wind and beautifully casual. In fact, the whole ride was just beautiful. I thought about looking at some work on the island just so I could do that ride every day. It reminded me a bit of having a moped in Ibiza, riding up and down hills, coming to beautiful clearings between the tropical trees with pristine beaches, palms blowing in the wind, and crystal clear water you can see right through from miles away. Plus, the wildflowers were blooming, the weather was perfect, and, as I already implied, it was a sensational day.

The ferry back to Fremantle was pretty quick. We had more luck finding accommodation there for the evening and then wandered around town for the evening. I wanted to have seafood since, you know, we were on the coast and they had some great seafood places there, but she had her stomach set on steak. I’d also been told that dinner and drinks at the Little Creatures Brewery was a must, and they had steak, but that was “too touristy”. So we went on a wild goose chase for steak and wound up, at all places, at a Mexican restaurant. Ah, sweet compromise. The food was as great as you’d expect for a country so close to Mexico. Then we watched a sunset that was much better. It turned out that on Friday they have the Fremantle markets open, so we plodded around there for a while, grabbed some coffee on Cappucino strip (by which I mean that I had a hot chocolate) and then back to Perth again. This time, I was at the Britannia hostel, which is a pretty decent hostel and cheap, but with no lockers.

I got in touch with Daz and we arranged to meet up to grab a bite and some drinks in the city, but when he swung by, his girlfriend Janine was in the car and they had food and beverages for me already. Talk about class! We went back to a vacant apartment that he rents out and the three of us had some drinks, probably about 5 beer and a glass of wine. Then we walked over to the Grosvenor Pub, played some pool, had two more, grabbed some pies from a bakery, and called it a night. Aside from Mexico, which was some sort of Montezuma-combo thing, I’ve never been so sick from drinking so little. Oh, and I did have a lot in Mexico. Here, over the time we had drinks, it was almost nothing. I’m fairly sure that my drink was spiked or else there was something wrong with perhaps the wine we drank, but I still didn’t feel great even by the time I went to bed the following night. I was getting sick every 15 mins or less if I tried to drink water and couldn’t keep anything down ‘til almost 3:00. My interview was at 4 and I went in and did fine; I didn’t meet the owner but instead the manager, Adam, and he told me to come in on Monday and we’d see how things went. So I couldn’t have been too bad.

Daren was kind enough to wait for me and listen to the cricket while I was in the interview, and then he drove me back to my hostel where I pretty much would’ve been happy to lay around the rest of the evening. But I’d gotten tickets for Crowded House as well as a local band through another friend, Avram (I know him through FB.Net), and I wasn’t about to ditch on that. So he picked me up a few hours later and we checked out Crowded House – sadly, we were too late to hear Augie March. Still, Crowded House was actually a pretty impressive show, they have quite a few good songs that obviously never make the radio and I was more impressed by them than expected. Avram’s friends, however, not such a great show, not to mention I found myself back at the seedy Hyde Park hotel. It was still a fun night out though I felt terrible even crawling into bed that night.

Thankfully I awoke the next morning feeling back to normal. I went to lunch with Marion, one of the French girls staying in my room, before grabbing some groceries. And so began my mundane working life. I woke up at 6 to get to work on the construction site by 7AM, and worked through to 3:30, which is a pretty nice time to be finished work all said. And luckily there wasn’t much in hard labour to be done, some asbestos cleanup and traffic control really, and that was about all. I went home, showered and changed, grabbed a quick snack, and caught the bus for my first day at Matilda Bay. It was a bit of a whirlwind tour and I basically worked as a runner for a few hours before going home at 8:30. The next day was another double shift of construction and then it was the gala opening for the restaurant that evening. There were porsches and expensive cars everywhere, people mingling and dining on canapés and champagne, live music, and it happened to be Warwick’s birthday. Wednesday and Thursday were construction days and it was already nice to have the evenings off. Friday was my last day at the construction site as I would be starting my role fully next week as day supervisor for the restaurant. And somewhere in this weekend off, I found time to start watching the very good Arrested Development episodes Alex gave me in Melbourne. Another great television show I never bothered with before.

I’d also moved out of my room with the French girls into some other room as my previous dorm was being converted into a girls-only room. Which I think is a bunch of baloney. That’s right. The worst of the meats. First of all, the hostel is ALWAYS full, why limit some rooms. Secondly, why should I be kicked out so some girl nobody would want anything to do with anyway (trust me, I saw her) can have her room with girls only. Thirdly, the French girls usually wound up having guys in there anyway. It just seems like a double standard in the end, but whatever. My new room had no desk, cupboards, or much of anything. It was quite a downgrade. But I still did get invited by the Kristen, one of the French girls, to a BBQ with some other French friends. It was a good time and nice food for a change, in fact it was a pretty sweet place for what they were paying, swimming pool, sauna, gym, etc. Then back to work for the week.

Work itself has been interesting. There are a few things I have to learn about this restaurant, there are a few challenges to coming in as the new guy and trying to manage people that have been there longer and have a better idea of how things usually work at Matilda Bay than I do, and I suppose these are what keep it interesting. Most of the people are pretty good to work with, a few are quite cool and I hope that some of them will be friends by the time I leave. I went out to the Moon and Sixpence with everyone and determined that Megan and I weren’t going to get along pretty quickly, and that Cam, the bar manager, and I probably would. The jury was out on some of the others. A week later, on Dec 1, I had my first management shift, which went pretty well thanks to people like Chacko giving me a hand. I also met some friends of Warwick’s, though I didn’t know it at the time, who were quite nice and make wines down in Margaret River. They insisted – really insisted – that I try some of the $150 wine that they make and were drinking, and I have to say that it was probably one of the best shirazes I’ve had – Rockford Valley Basket Press 2004, if anyone is interested. Yum!

We went out that night, Cam, Daren, and myself, and met up unknowingly with Nora and Hannah from the restaurant as well. Where did we go? To a place called SOCO Cargo, a cargo container club that ships around the world from port to port and generally has a week of good indie music and fun before shipping off yet again. It was great and they had a really cool band playing as we arrived (Institut Polare), though we got there a little late to hear much of them. We lost Cam and the others went home, so Daz and I looked around Northbridge for something else to do but to no avail. So, given that getting a cab in Perth is something like getting a gold nugget in the Saskatchewan River, he crashed on the hostel floor (lucky I had my camping mattress handy for him) and we were gone for breakfast before anyone else in the room knew he’d been there. I had the whole day off and it was a beautiful one, so I borrowed Luca’s bike (he lives in the hostel too and is from Italy) and rode my bike all the way to Fremantle. There, I finally got my fresh fish and took the train back to the city. The next day, I figured I’d go get some clothes in Claremont, but there’s not much there, so I wound up grabbing one Ben Sherman shirt and giving up.

And other than work, there hasn’t been much else to report. I moved in to Daren’s spare room one morning before work, which has saved me some money and given me the occasional chance to catch up with him though our schedules are pretty divergent. It was really good of him to put me up and I’m glad we caught up while I was here. I went for dinner and out to the Aberdeen one night with Tanja, where we met with Stuart and found ourselves in a pool tournament. I somehow got to semi-finals then lost to a Mauri shark. I saw, on several occasions, dolphins playing with the kids in the water just out the window from our restaurant. I saw Santa pull up in an aluminum boat and jump off, running up the shore and out of sight. I’ve waited an hour for a bus in South Perth and jumped in a cab just to get to work on time. And one thing I haven’t done is made it down south to Margaret River, though Warwick said I can stay at his vineyard down there when I do go, and I haven’t been down to what is supposed to be one of the top 10 beaches in the world down in Esperance. But I’ll get there, eventually. For the moment, I’m booked to be working over Christmas, flying out to Sydney on the 28th, spending New Years there, and then flying down to Tasmania, the last state for me to visit, for a couple weeks on Jan 6. Then back to Perth for another month’s worth of work before hitting traveling to Asia! I can’t believe how much I’ve gone from no interest to really excited about seeing Asia. Anyway, happy holidays, and see you in the new year!

Rottnest Island Photos
Perth PhotosRead More...

Pitstop at the Races

Having recovered my laptop, my mission on the east coast of Australia was complete. Now I had to get back to Perth; and maybe see some old friends along the way. My first step, November 1st, was to completely shave. After all, it's the beginning of Movember, a month dedicated to Men's Health issues. Aussies try to raise awareness by growing out moustaches for the entire month and, hopefully, taking donations towards the relevant charities. I spent the rest of November traipsing around Surfers Paradise with the Germans and Jackie from my room as well as Chelsea, and by the 2nd I was in Brisbane again, staying with Liam at his place. In fact, I'd no sooner got there then we were out for some Vietnamese food with a bunch of his friends at the little place by a train stop. And the next day, a barbecue and other good times to be had. Finally, we went for breakfast on my final day in Brisbane at a bowling club and I discovered, as I sat on the river with a beautiful view, that Brisbane has a lot more going on than you'd expect... you just have to get out of the CBD. Liam raced, literally raced, me to my plane and I JUST made it in time to get on board and I said goodbye to Queensland for the last time. Coming up, Melbourne!

I arrived in Melbourne in class... this time, my friend Alex (who I met traveling through the Kimberly to Broome) picked me up from the airport, ordered some food as we drove towards his place, and we got home and ate with Sandy, his roommate within an hour of having landed. I instantly felt at home here - not only do they have unlimited bandwidth internet, they have a modded X-box, and Sandy even put on an episode of Family Guy that parodies Star Wars. The apartment was in a great location, about 15 minutes walk north of St. Kilda in a place called Middle Park. I would be in Melbourne for a week to take in the Melbourne Cup on Tuesday and Alex and Sandy's collective 30th birthdays on Saturday. Today, incidentally, is Sunday, and I'm doing a whole lot of nothing this evening after Family Guy; just enjoying being in such a homey place.

I met up with Catherine the next morning for waffles at the Tropicana. Although it was a bit of a trick to get there - there happened to be a parade marching through the city and it took a bit before I noticed my tram wasn't going where I thought it would be as a result. And then streets were closed for pedestrians, etc, etc. Luckily, she had the same problems, so we were both fashionably late to meet under the clocks at Flinders. After our delicious waffles, which turned out to be a lunch instead of breakfast, we walked through Hardware Lane, over to an art exhibit of her friend's (which wasn't on until next week), and finally had some drinks at the Transport Bar. I parted company with her and met up with Andrew in St Kilda for some pizza and more beer and, as we were walking down the street, there was Paris, another coworked from Stalactites, in the cab queue... and as a cabbie! Since Staalactites was renovating for a couple months, everybody had to find other jobs, and this was his. It was cool to just run into him randomly like that.

The next morning was Melbourne Cup. Alex didn't approve of my attire, and thankfully intervened with a different shirt and tie. Now I looked classy, especially with my new hat that I had just bought with Catherine at Myer the day before. I met up with Jackie, my Canadian friend from Surfers, and Andrew at the train station, we got tickets to Flemington, and were off to the races! We all looked pretty sophisticated for backpackers, I must say. Well, Andrew's not, but he's from NSW, so he's a traveller of sorts. It was a great day of champagne, winnings, losings, and sitting in the sun enjoying the weather. We even got interviewed on TV here, I guess we looked like we were having fun. And we were. After the main race was done, I was about even for the day (minus drinks and admission) and we left for an evening of fun, stopping for dinner, eventually, at HJs for dinner (the Melbourne Cup race is a public holiday here, so everything is closed), Max Brenner's for dessert, and then off to the casino, where we played some of the games at the huge fun centre there. Definitely cheaper than the tables and we had a lot of fun, even if we were a might overdressed.

The rest of the week went by pretty quickly. Wednesday I met up with Andrew and Bianca for lunch at an Asian restaurant in QV and met Ferg at 5:30 outside the Aquarium. He took me by his new place where we waited for Carol over a Corona and listened to some of his new album. The three of us went for dinner and a second beer at London Pub, just down the street from their new home, and it was great to catch up with them again - they're both such nice people. Thursday, I went for a cycle with Norm for dinner, and then I met up with Jackie again for her last night in Australia and went out with her and some other backpackers. I spent most of Friday trying to recover my deleted photos with limited success before I finally hit on some luck by using my backup hard drive as well as my laptop one.

Saturday was the main event, Alex and Sandy's 30th. I helped them clean up and load up for the party that night, and load up we did. We filled the bath with ice and alcohol, not to mention some garbage cans, moved stuff around, and so on. They were expecting a lot of people for this little apartment, and we had to make room. The party went really well, they have some very nice friends and family, and I quite enjoyed myself. I was definitely glad I'd stayed for it. The next day I met up with Melinda for a walk through the botanical gardens. We met first at the QV markets to get supplies, I picked up a new pair of aviators (this was where I got my last pair for $15), and by the time we got to the park and found a spot it was getting late. But we had a great little picnic, I finally saw the botanical gardens, and in all it was a great way to spend a Sunday. Monday I met with Norm again, where we biked to Williamstown for crepes and cider and then back again, after which I met up with Bianca on Lygon St for some Italian cuisine.

Monday came very quickly, my final day in Melbourne, and I ran a bunch of errands and got my laptop sorted some more. I took Alex and Sandy out for dinner that night to Santiago, a tapas Spanish restaurant, and thanked them as best I could for their hospitality. I would be sad to leave, but I know I have one more time in Melbourne before I say goodbye forever. I'm definitely looking forward to it, but now, if you haven't guessed, I've spent far too much money and it's time to get to Perth, to work, and to reality (sort of) once again.

Melbourne Cup PhotosRead More...

The Karma of the Irish

Generally, I report on things chronologically on these pages, but this post is an exception. This tale spans two months with a lot of things happening in between key points, and it's a lot more interesting when told all together. It's a story of loss, a story of hope, a story of one man's struggle for justice in a cynical, cynical world. And it's now the most overhyped story I've ever told. It is the story of the theft of my laptop (among other things) and how justice came to Australia, Canadian style, and I not only got my possessions back, but caught up with the lowlife that stole them. And it goes a little something like this...

It was a Wednesday night in Surfers Paradise. I had finally, after searching for a week, found a place where I could connect my laptop to the internet and upload the photos to my website. I was leaving Thursday morning so it seemed a good enough way to spend the evening. Well, not really, but it was overdue. So back I went to the Sleeping Inn hostel to get my cables and laptop. Everybody was there, getting ready to go out for the old Wednesday night pubcrawl and urging me to come out, too. I was in Australia partly to loosen up a bit and have more fun, and this seemed like a good time to not do the computer nerd routine, but then again my site was (is) really out of date and I wanted to do this now rather than later when it would fall irrevocably behind. But, eating, I spilled something on my shirt. Without really thinking about it, I changed shirts into my button up 'going out' shirt and my subconscious made the decision for me. So I said, what the heck, and got on the pub crawl. It was a good night, as by now I knew my roommates pretty well and that always helps. Only two stayed behind from our building, Johno, a kiwi, in the room next door, and Rob, from Ireland, who was in our room. Johno had no money and Rob had work in the morning. I got back from the pub crawl at 2:30AM and went straight to sleep.

The next morning I woke up, showered, and started to pack. "Hmmm, I thought I left my wallet in my backpack... oh well, it'll turn up". Then I thought I'd charge my phone while I packed since I'd be on the road. My charger's usually in a blue bag of cables, which I also couldn't find. I looked in the closet, on the shelf, under my bed, everywhere I could think to. Then I thought maybe I put it in with my laptop even though that was unlikely as it doesn't really fit in that compartment. I opened to check and my stomach dropped. My laptop was gone. And my wallet. My iPod. My watch. My camera. All my photos, videos, etc. Even my backups of my photos, videos, etc. Other things were there, however, including the pack itself and a few things that would be no good to noone. Whoever had stolen it had gone through a lot of time sifting through and picking out what they wanted. There was a $200 pair of sunglasses beside my backpack untouched and a camera sitting on the floor worth about $500. I woke everyone up in the room and nobody else was missing anything. Then I searched their stuff, and our entire unit. It didn't make sense that it was someone from outside. Someone from outside would come in, grab the bag and whatever else they could as fast as they could, and get the hell out. No, whoever it was knew that they weren't going to be interrupted, which would be fine if the thief knew we were all out on the pubcrawl, but of course Rob had stayed back. And, given that nobody else’s stuff was touched and mine was scavenged, they knew what they were going to find.

I called the police, cancelled my cards, called home, and tried to think clearly over the rising nausea. I felt sick and actually did find an alley on my walk back from the payphone to throw up. The stress and distress I felt were overwhelming. I have special software on my laptop that, when it's reported stolen, if it's connected to the internet it logs the IP address (that is, where they are which can be traced to an actual street address with police help). It also takes photos of the person using the computer and uploads screenshots of what they are doing on the computer. I called Orbicule, the company that makes the software, and I let them know my laptop was stolen as well. At this point the police showed up and wrote down what was missing for the insurance I don't have. They also wrote down everyone's name in the room except, of course, for Rob, who was at work, and Johno who started his job this morning. The two prime suspects, in other words. Their considered opinion was that it was a B&E because there was a door and a window left open, even though the door to the room was locked (I double checked before leaving) and had no signs of forced entry - and it's on the second floor, AND aside from a ladder there's no way to get to the window. Oh, and the fence they supposedly hopped to avoid the security camera? Well, I’m not exactly out of shape and I had problems with two free hands getting over it. Hmm.

The obvious problem with things being stolen by a backpacker is where they keep their new acquistions. Given that I'd searched everyone's stuff, the only other thing I could think of was cars. I searched them too; I was even waiting outside when Rob got home to search his van. Nothing. I was far too stressed to be thinking clearly and so I tried to relax myself and remember that life went on just fine the last time this happened in Dublin. I made baked apples and shared them with everyone, knowing that any of them might be the one that did it, but it gave me something to do and, I hoped, would make the thief feel all the more guilty. In fact, they pretty much all agreed that it looked like an inside job when we talked about it. I fleshed out the night with them - I was the first one back (aside from those that stayed behind), and the others made their way in not too long after me. The hostel staff, Rob, and the police were the only ones who seemed to think it was an outside theft. We tried to think of things I could do to get it back. Rob mentioned that there was a way to track if a laptop went on the internet (obviously I was all too aware) and called his friend to find out. "You have to have special software installed to track it that way," he later told me. My face fell. "I've never heard of that before." "So you don't have it installed?" "No, how could I? I didn't even know that was possible. I don't know why it wouldn't just come on the computer." At this point, he said to me something that would become pivotal in this. "Well," he said, "you have to believe in karma. Whoever would do something like this will have it come around. It might not get you your laptop and pictures back, maybe they’ll get hit by a bus or something else will happen to them all you’ll never know, but maybe it helps a bit to know that this will come back to get them." Oh, yeah. What goes around comes around, alright. I insist on it.

Johno came back later and went out to buy a carton of beer - in spite of the fact that he had no money to come out the night before. When he heard about the theft, he also showed no concern that his stuff might be missing, though he also had a laptop, and was pretty blasé. That said, the guy working reception mentioned to me that Rob hadn't paid his rent in a while and had said he'd be paying it that morning before he left for work. Still, I couldn't rule out the possibility that it wasn't the neighbours. They were crackheads, after all, and could definitely see right into our room. The next morning they were playing the music quite loudly, so I wandered over casually to see if there was a party and, ostensibly, join in on the fun. I got invited in and had some glances around but the bedroom doors were closed. "Oh, this isn't too bad, what do you pay for a place like this? I'm getting tired of living in hostels... oh really, that's all? ... and how big are the bedrooms? ... wow, that's pretty good. Do you mind if I have a look?" And so it was that I had searched their house and found nothing. I stopped at all the neighbours and asked questions. I didn't have any other ideas I hadn't tried short of following them around, and I still wanted to be trying to sell my car while I waited. So I drove down to Byron Bay early that afternoon, but asked Chris to tell both Rob and Johno when they got back and saw I was gone that I'd gone to the police, they'd found a witness, and should be back any minute with them. Hopefully they'd do something to give themselves away. I mean, if it were me and I knew the police were coming back with a witness any minute, I'd want to be the hell out of there now. I might panic. So might they.

Unfortunately, Chris didn't quite get the reasoning for it and botched the message a bit, so that little scheme didn't bear fruit. I stayed in loose contact with Johno and Rob for a while and decided that short of following one of them around with the car, there was nothing I could do. The laptop might turn up on the internet or it might not, but I couldn't sit around waiting forever. I sold my car and flew to Darwin, making my way from there to Perth over the next month or so. I arrived in Perth on Sunday, October 14th. Tuesday, October 16th I received an email from Orbicule. The laptop had been connected to the internet at 2AM and you can't imagine my disbelief and jubilation at hearing from the laptop a month and a half after it was stolen. Orbicule had also sent the information to the ISP. I did a WHOIS myself and found that the laptop was connected to an Exetel customer's internet connection. Progress! Not only did I have my first lead in over a month, but the fact that the software was still on the laptop meant that - for the moment - whoever was using it hadn't found a way or need to wipe the drive completely.

I immediately called the Surfers Paradise police, even though they’d been CC’d on the email. After all, it had been like pulling teeth to find an external email address and the one I'd been given was for some officer who may or may not have been on duty that day. And, of course, he wasn't. Nor was constable Strang. I explained the situation and told them that this lead was pretty time-sensitive and all I needed was an email to the ISP to get the street address. Only the case officer could do anything, I was told. He was on that evening, so I left a message stating I had information on the whereabouts of the laptop and for him to call me. I then attempted to do some work for the police and called up Exetel myself to see if I could find out the physical location the laptop had been connected. It was difficult to get someone on the phone who understood what I was asking, but when I finally did they told me what I'd expect them to - they were quite happy to give the information to the police but couldn't divulge it to me. There was nothing left for me to do but wait for Constable Strang to come on shift.

Then I got another email. This one contained two screenshots of what the thief was doing on my computer as well as two photos from the built-in iSight camera of the person using my computer. I opened up the screenshots first. One of him creating a user account on YouTube that included a username of roconnor, date of birth, and a postal code that was for Southport/Labrador, a suburb just north of Surfers Paradise. Immediately, I thought "R could stand for Rob, and O'Connor definitely sounds Irish." I also noticed that he had kept my background the same, a picture of some soldier crabs in the Whitsundays. And the recycle bin was full! Maybe he had deleted but not wiped out my stuff. The next screenshot was of him in his email, yahoo.co.uk, which further pointed to Ireland. And then I opened the photo of the thief using the computer. "You son of a bitch," maybe a little loudly for the internet cafe. Definitely Rob. And in the background, photos that appeared to be a hostel, with signs for returning plates, and others for the theme parks in the Surfers Paradise/Gold Coast area. I was convinced he was still there.

I called officer Strang just before 10 and was told that he was on beat, meaning on the streets. I'd left a message for him and told them this and asked that he please return my call regardless of the hour when he got back for lunch. He didn't. It went on like this for a few days, with me slowly getting to know the ins and outs of the Surfers police. A Perth officer mentioned that I should ask for the OIC (officer in charge) and at last I had someone, John Kubanko willing to talk about it. I explained the software and he sounded quite excited about this new way of catching crooks and promised me he'd look into it right now. At last!! Progress. I got a phone call from Sgt. Malone about 20 mins later and got another email address to send the information to and filled her in on the details. And that was it for almost a week. Admittedly, the Indy races were on that weekend and they were busy, but still I couldn't get any response at all, not even from John. I sent faxes and everything. Next week I managed to reach John and he explained about indy and said he'd look into it to see what had been done. He called back to get the correct spelling of my last name and I heard nothing and couldn't reach him for a few days as he was off.

You can imagine my frustration, knowing that this little blip of hope was fading and probably gone because of some cars driving fast around Surfers. I called several times a day, and asked every relevant police department to look up the IP address for me, even back home. And I even knew the guy's identity, had a phone number for him, birthday, you name it. I'd tried everything I could think of and was brainstorming a way for some stranger to call him and discern his location without tipping him off. A girl he supposedly met at the bar? A call from "VISA" asking him to verify that he was making a purchase with his card on eBay - with the usual verification questions like, say, "billing address". All of the ideas risked tipping him off that I was onto him and the latter would probably be considered fraud even if I didn't do anything with it besides go after him. And go after him I would. I'd been in Perth for almost two weeks and divided my time between job hunting and Rob hunting with no progress whatsoever. I’d had my life on hold and was tired of leaving it to people who didn’t seem interested in crime fighting, so I took matters into my own hands. I booked a cheap flight to Sydney on Saturday October 27, as further tracking on the IP made it appear that the laptop may have been in Sydney, and regardless, I had to fly through Sydney to get back to Surfers. I had called a few hostels in Sydney trying to find out if any of them sold theme park tickets or if they even had posters up for theme parks and most of them had no idea what I was talking about, which I took as a pretty good sign that, no, they don't. He was in Surfers. I also called every hostel on the Gold Coast and none of them had wireless nor Rob O'Connor registered. I was worried this might tip him off, but I was at the point where I had to take chances. Still, I didn’t take the risk of calling Sleeping Inn, as I was fairly convinced he w