Imagine lying down, your head nestled on a soft pillow, staring forward at images of snakes devouring people. Pretty picture, right?
Well, I got to experience it.
Last night several other cats and I rolled out to the Govinda Theatre (sp?), a speciality cinema complex in which magenta couches allow you to lay back, relax and take in the film before your eyes.
Best of all, we got to see possibly the year's best action film, "Snakes on a Plane." There is nothing quite like lying back and mouthing the words as Samuel L. Jackson shouts 'em: "Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!!"
Other positives to take from the experience:
- there were no filthy previews
- no promotions for the theater ("Come visit our concession stand!!!")
- and there was a 2-minute intermission (after the little snakes had assailed, but before the cobra swallowed the pompous British man's head - he deserved it, after throwing the blond woman's dog to the snake).
The brief reprieve allowed for a quick analysis among the group of the film's first half (only Toad, Uncle Mel and I had seen it before) during which questions could be asked about the movie's plot if anyone was confused (fortunately not too many questions were posed, as the plot is pretty simple: snakes kill people; Samuel L. kills snakes).
But unlike my SOAP experience back in the States, when I felt squeamish in my normal seat everytime a snake impaled, at Govinda I just hugged my pillow tighter. And sometimes I just laughed (especially at the horny couple who were the first to suffer snakebite, in the bathroom).
For a $10.90 ticket (compared to $9.00 for the regular theatre - and that's just on Tuesdays) the Govinda experience was well worth it. Of course the movie we viewed had something to do with the pleasurable evening, but I have a feeling that Govinda could even make watching "Bambi" entertaining.
jake
Monday, October 30, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
November 18, 2006 - mark down the date
Before then I will buy $200 worth of groceries; I will go hiking in the blue Mountains; I will see "Snakes on a Plane"; I will watch cricket on TV; I will go bar-hopping on the weekend; I will do lots of things.
But nothing will have a chance to live up to what will transpire on November 18, 2006 at 7:30 a.m. here in Sydney. I will find a bar. And within its friendly confines, I will watch one of the most anticipated college football games in decades.
And possibly the most hyped-up Michigan-Ohio State game EVER.
No. 1 Ohio State vs. No. 2 Michigan. I know they each have two games to play before tha fateful afternoon, but there's no way they'll lose. They wouldn't ruin what everyone from Mackinac Island to Columbus is looking forward to.
No way, no how.
Now that the Tigers' amazing championship run has fallen short - never to be forgotten, but to be placed in the past, the entire state of Michigan can focus on November 18.
Cuz face it, there's no need to pay attention to basketball or hockey until Thanksgiving.
I can only imagine what Ann Arbor will be like in the days leading up to November 18. Here's an imagined conversation between an auto shop worker and a customer.
"The car all right?"
"Yeah, brakes were a little worn, nothing big."
"Nothin compared to that game on Saturday, huh?"
"Oh, yeah, you got that right. Hopefully they can put the brakes on Smith, huh??"
"Got that right. Little worried about that guy, but hopefully we can get our offensive engine humming."
"Yes, sir, uh-hum."
There will be a pandimonium in town. How could there not be? If I was mayor, no one would have to work between 3:30 and 7 p.m. on November 18.
That's how big this game will be. Bigger than the state of Pennsylvania.
So, yes, life will go on here in Sydney. I'll talk to people about things as if they are important. I'll go food-shopping, as if I'm hungry.
But I'll be honest: the only thing I'm hungry for is the arrival of November 18.
But nothing will have a chance to live up to what will transpire on November 18, 2006 at 7:30 a.m. here in Sydney. I will find a bar. And within its friendly confines, I will watch one of the most anticipated college football games in decades.
And possibly the most hyped-up Michigan-Ohio State game EVER.
No. 1 Ohio State vs. No. 2 Michigan. I know they each have two games to play before tha fateful afternoon, but there's no way they'll lose. They wouldn't ruin what everyone from Mackinac Island to Columbus is looking forward to.
No way, no how.
Now that the Tigers' amazing championship run has fallen short - never to be forgotten, but to be placed in the past, the entire state of Michigan can focus on November 18.
Cuz face it, there's no need to pay attention to basketball or hockey until Thanksgiving.
I can only imagine what Ann Arbor will be like in the days leading up to November 18. Here's an imagined conversation between an auto shop worker and a customer.
"The car all right?"
"Yeah, brakes were a little worn, nothing big."
"Nothin compared to that game on Saturday, huh?"
"Oh, yeah, you got that right. Hopefully they can put the brakes on Smith, huh??"
"Got that right. Little worried about that guy, but hopefully we can get our offensive engine humming."
"Yes, sir, uh-hum."
There will be a pandimonium in town. How could there not be? If I was mayor, no one would have to work between 3:30 and 7 p.m. on November 18.
That's how big this game will be. Bigger than the state of Pennsylvania.
So, yes, life will go on here in Sydney. I'll talk to people about things as if they are important. I'll go food-shopping, as if I'm hungry.
But I'll be honest: the only thing I'm hungry for is the arrival of November 18.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Paying homage to Red
A sports legend passed away last night.
When I saw the news, I made a decision. I wouldn't weep, I wouldn't sit staring blankly outside. I would go out the front door of my residence, into the sunny, 63-degree Sunday afternoon. I would pass by Victoria Park, filled on this day with dogs running loose and sunbathers basking. I would cross Cleveland Street, cut through a few buildings, and make my way to the Sydney University Aquatic Center.
There, on the wooden basketball courts, I would pay homage to possibly the greatest NBA coach of all time, Red Auerbach.
I decided to shoot 100 free throws for Red, aiming to make 89 - his age at death. It was a lofty goal, but on this day my shooting hand felt blessed. It was as if each flick of the wrist was empowered by a divine force.
I was on fire.
I dedicated each set of 10 free throws to a championship won by Red as the Celtics coach. 1957, 1959, 1960, 1961, 1962, 1963, 1964, 1965, 1966. The final 10 I dedicated to Red's decision, upon his retirement from coaching in 1967 before he was 50 years old. He turned the team over to his star center, Bill Russell, who became the NBA’s first black coach.
Of course Red never said so, but I think he had some more coaching in him. He didn’t step down because his tank was empty. He did it to give Russell the opportunity. His star didn’t let him down, winning titles in ’68 and ’69 – paving the way for more black men to become head coaches.
Midway through, I was 43-for-50 – almost on pace to hit 89. I was in a zone. I didn’t feel like someone who hadn’t touched a basketball in three months. I felt like Bob Cousy, or Bill Sharman, or KC Jones – a few of the great guards Red was able to lure to Boston during his coaching days.
Who will ever forget how Red said he’d never draft Cousy, but ended up with him anyway? After the point guard began to direct the Celtics franchise in the right direction, Red warmed up to him and they’ll live together forever in Celtics lore.
Unfortunately, I hit a rough streak in the 60s, and ended up seven free throws short of my goal – 82 for 100. But it didn’t matter.
I felt that I had done my part to honor a legend, to honor a man who took pride in being a players’ coach, a man who as GM of the Celtics after his playing days gave the coaching job to five former players. A man who didn’t forget who helped him be so successful.
Even as the Celtics struggled the last two decades, Red never turned his back on the franchise. Even when narcissistic Rick Pitino demanded Red's GM title when he became coach in the late ‘90s.
Red was always there, giving advice to anyone who asked, acting a father figure to many.
The Celtics are dedicating the upcoming season to Red. There are not high hopes in Boston, as has been the case for most of the past decade. But maybe, just maybe, the players will feel the same way I did this afternoon.
Maybe when Paul Pierce flicks his beautifully arching shot, it’ll go in 55 percent of the time instead of 45 percent. Maybe Boston’s talented but immature youngsters – Kendrick Perkins and Sebastian Telfair, to name a pair – will grow into their shoes, realizing who’s looking down on them.
It’s amazing how you can be touched by history. A lot of my life I’ve been stuck in the present. I’ve watched in awe as Tiger Woods dominates the PGA Tour without knowing the names of the black men who made it possible for him to play on tour. I’ve enjoyed the great tradition of Michigan football without knowing the men who made the program one of the nation’s best.
But now I do pay attention to history. When a team wins a championship, I think about how they made it to the top. And, of course, when a man like Red Auerbach dies, I don’t shake my head nonchalantly and move on.
I dedicate a beautiful afternoon to his life. Because I know who he was.
When I saw the news, I made a decision. I wouldn't weep, I wouldn't sit staring blankly outside. I would go out the front door of my residence, into the sunny, 63-degree Sunday afternoon. I would pass by Victoria Park, filled on this day with dogs running loose and sunbathers basking. I would cross Cleveland Street, cut through a few buildings, and make my way to the Sydney University Aquatic Center.
There, on the wooden basketball courts, I would pay homage to possibly the greatest NBA coach of all time, Red Auerbach.
I decided to shoot 100 free throws for Red, aiming to make 89 - his age at death. It was a lofty goal, but on this day my shooting hand felt blessed. It was as if each flick of the wrist was empowered by a divine force.
I was on fire.
I dedicated each set of 10 free throws to a championship won by Red as the Celtics coach. 1957, 1959, 1960, 1961, 1962, 1963, 1964, 1965, 1966. The final 10 I dedicated to Red's decision, upon his retirement from coaching in 1967 before he was 50 years old. He turned the team over to his star center, Bill Russell, who became the NBA’s first black coach.
Of course Red never said so, but I think he had some more coaching in him. He didn’t step down because his tank was empty. He did it to give Russell the opportunity. His star didn’t let him down, winning titles in ’68 and ’69 – paving the way for more black men to become head coaches.
Midway through, I was 43-for-50 – almost on pace to hit 89. I was in a zone. I didn’t feel like someone who hadn’t touched a basketball in three months. I felt like Bob Cousy, or Bill Sharman, or KC Jones – a few of the great guards Red was able to lure to Boston during his coaching days.
Who will ever forget how Red said he’d never draft Cousy, but ended up with him anyway? After the point guard began to direct the Celtics franchise in the right direction, Red warmed up to him and they’ll live together forever in Celtics lore.
Unfortunately, I hit a rough streak in the 60s, and ended up seven free throws short of my goal – 82 for 100. But it didn’t matter.
I felt that I had done my part to honor a legend, to honor a man who took pride in being a players’ coach, a man who as GM of the Celtics after his playing days gave the coaching job to five former players. A man who didn’t forget who helped him be so successful.
Even as the Celtics struggled the last two decades, Red never turned his back on the franchise. Even when narcissistic Rick Pitino demanded Red's GM title when he became coach in the late ‘90s.
Red was always there, giving advice to anyone who asked, acting a father figure to many.
The Celtics are dedicating the upcoming season to Red. There are not high hopes in Boston, as has been the case for most of the past decade. But maybe, just maybe, the players will feel the same way I did this afternoon.
Maybe when Paul Pierce flicks his beautifully arching shot, it’ll go in 55 percent of the time instead of 45 percent. Maybe Boston’s talented but immature youngsters – Kendrick Perkins and Sebastian Telfair, to name a pair – will grow into their shoes, realizing who’s looking down on them.
It’s amazing how you can be touched by history. A lot of my life I’ve been stuck in the present. I’ve watched in awe as Tiger Woods dominates the PGA Tour without knowing the names of the black men who made it possible for him to play on tour. I’ve enjoyed the great tradition of Michigan football without knowing the men who made the program one of the nation’s best.
But now I do pay attention to history. When a team wins a championship, I think about how they made it to the top. And, of course, when a man like Red Auerbach dies, I don’t shake my head nonchalantly and move on.
I dedicate a beautiful afternoon to his life. Because I know who he was.
Opera House lesson
I'm not gonna beat around the bush: Last night I saw a play performed in a foreign language (I think it was German) at the Opera House. Yeah, knew I shoulda stuck with german in high school. It might have taken the sting away from last night's experience. I'm not gonna say I enjoyed the night, because I didn't. Definitely not. I spent the second half of the play - it took me most of the first half to realize I wasn't gonna hear much English - going over the sport statistics I've memorized in my head. I got through all 102 Major League Baseball champions - including the worst WS champion in history, the '06 Cardinals (sorry, just had to throw that in there) - and about two thirds of the 122 college football champions (hopefully No. 123 will be the Maize and Blue - sorry, I know I'm straying.
So that was my night at the OH. Probably won't be back, although I have plenty more statistics to sift through during droll times. A brief synopsis of the play: It was about three army nurses. can't tell you much more except that there was some violence and partial nudity. They don't screen their plays at the OH for children.
And, of course, they don't tell you what language they're in!
jakers
So that was my night at the OH. Probably won't be back, although I have plenty more statistics to sift through during droll times. A brief synopsis of the play: It was about three army nurses. can't tell you much more except that there was some violence and partial nudity. They don't screen their plays at the OH for children.
And, of course, they don't tell you what language they're in!
jakers
Friday, October 27, 2006
The Tigers go down
I know I should put it in perspective. I do. I really, really do. After all, I was one of the thousands who picked them to finish fourth in the division, just a dozen victories above the abysmal Royals.
So, as a journalist, I know my job: put it in perspective. But not now. Not yet. Maybe by the end of this column. We'll see.
I can't do it because of the way the Tigers lost in this World Series to the Cardinals. The Cardinals did not win this series. Mark it down. The Tigers lost the series. The Tigers beat themselves. Plain and simple.
You want numbers? You want evidence? I got it. How about five errors by the Tigers' pitching staff - all of them leading to unearned runs for the Cardinals. Even before rook Justin Verlander threw away an easy toss to third last night - costing the Tigers two runs (yes, equaling the final margin of the Cards' victory) - the Tigs had set a record for errors made in a World Series with four.
Ouch. Here, Fernando Rodney can pinpoint a nasty slider on the outside corner, but he can't put the ball near Placido Polanco's glove from 20 feet away in Game 4, costing the Tigers - who actually hit that game - a golden chance to even the series.
Here, Tigers wouldn't have won Game 3 anyway, but Joel Zumaya could have made it interesting for all of us watching at work by throwing to Brandon Inge at third and not five feet out of his reach.
Oh, well, it allowed me to get more work done.
Are you kidding me? The Tigers made Paris Hilton look flawless. I know the cliche's getting old, but it still holds.
Everyone was favoring the Tigers entering the Series; had a feeling that might be a poor harbinger. A team that had been under the microscope all year, doubted by the experts until the eve of the Series, suddenly waighed down by the pressure of people actually pickin you?
It's like your boys expecting you to get the georgous girl's number? If it don't happen you're in the dogouse and your confidence is shot. That's what happened to the Tigers.
They lost this series; Cards didn't win. Yes, the record books will show the Cards winnning their 10th World Series, second all time to those Yanks. But those who actually watched the five games will know that the Cards were dealth a great dose of serendipiy.
From their friends, the Tigers.
So, as a journalist, I know my job: put it in perspective. But not now. Not yet. Maybe by the end of this column. We'll see.
I can't do it because of the way the Tigers lost in this World Series to the Cardinals. The Cardinals did not win this series. Mark it down. The Tigers lost the series. The Tigers beat themselves. Plain and simple.
You want numbers? You want evidence? I got it. How about five errors by the Tigers' pitching staff - all of them leading to unearned runs for the Cardinals. Even before rook Justin Verlander threw away an easy toss to third last night - costing the Tigers two runs (yes, equaling the final margin of the Cards' victory) - the Tigs had set a record for errors made in a World Series with four.
Ouch. Here, Fernando Rodney can pinpoint a nasty slider on the outside corner, but he can't put the ball near Placido Polanco's glove from 20 feet away in Game 4, costing the Tigers - who actually hit that game - a golden chance to even the series.
Here, Tigers wouldn't have won Game 3 anyway, but Joel Zumaya could have made it interesting for all of us watching at work by throwing to Brandon Inge at third and not five feet out of his reach.
Oh, well, it allowed me to get more work done.
Are you kidding me? The Tigers made Paris Hilton look flawless. I know the cliche's getting old, but it still holds.
Everyone was favoring the Tigers entering the Series; had a feeling that might be a poor harbinger. A team that had been under the microscope all year, doubted by the experts until the eve of the Series, suddenly waighed down by the pressure of people actually pickin you?
It's like your boys expecting you to get the georgous girl's number? If it don't happen you're in the dogouse and your confidence is shot. That's what happened to the Tigers.
They lost this series; Cards didn't win. Yes, the record books will show the Cards winnning their 10th World Series, second all time to those Yanks. But those who actually watched the five games will know that the Cards were dealth a great dose of serendipiy.
From their friends, the Tigers.
Freakin' Tigers
OK,
Before you all jump over me, let me explain myself. I know this blog is supposed to be solely about things I'm doing in Australia; places I'm visiting in Australia; people I'm meeting in Australia; animals I'm petting in Australia. I know, I know - and I think I've done a pretty good job of abiding by this (if you disagree, you can e-mail me at jbl10@albion.edu - I check it every day).
But there comes a time in one's life when the most important thing happening is 5,000 miles away. That time is now. And it is not easy. I've watched every Tigers' playoff game except two. I've scouted out bars in which to watch the Tigs, I've woken up at 6 in the morning to watch 'em. I scheduled my work week perfectly so I could be off this morning to watch Game 4 of the WS.
And what do they give me? Another throwin' error by a pitcher? More missed opportunities with runners in scoring position? Man, I am dying now. But I'm not giving up on the Tigs. Mark my words: if Verlander finds a way to get the Tigers through Game 5, they WILL WIN THE WORLD SERIES. And I'll watch every remaining game in its entirety. 'Cuz, frankly, watching my team in the WS is far more important than touring some obscure Sydney suburb right now. And what would I usually be doing between 10:30 and 2 anyway? Probably just reading a basketball book (fun fact of my time here: I've already read 4 books for fun and just bought 3 more the other day - Moms would be proud).
Anyway, when you're watching Game 5 tomorrow, don't think you're all alone. I'll be watching, too, rooting on those mercurial Tigs, not giving up hope. After all, it makes me proud to say that two years ago I predicted a Red Sox comeback after that disasterous Game 3 loss. This situation for the Tigers is easier. Three wins in Three nights.
So while I'm attending my first Opera House concert tomorrow and tasting some fine Aussy cuisine, the only indicator of whether it'll be a good weekend is this: will the Tigers win 3 or lose 1?
jake
Before you all jump over me, let me explain myself. I know this blog is supposed to be solely about things I'm doing in Australia; places I'm visiting in Australia; people I'm meeting in Australia; animals I'm petting in Australia. I know, I know - and I think I've done a pretty good job of abiding by this (if you disagree, you can e-mail me at jbl10@albion.edu - I check it every day).
But there comes a time in one's life when the most important thing happening is 5,000 miles away. That time is now. And it is not easy. I've watched every Tigers' playoff game except two. I've scouted out bars in which to watch the Tigs, I've woken up at 6 in the morning to watch 'em. I scheduled my work week perfectly so I could be off this morning to watch Game 4 of the WS.
And what do they give me? Another throwin' error by a pitcher? More missed opportunities with runners in scoring position? Man, I am dying now. But I'm not giving up on the Tigs. Mark my words: if Verlander finds a way to get the Tigers through Game 5, they WILL WIN THE WORLD SERIES. And I'll watch every remaining game in its entirety. 'Cuz, frankly, watching my team in the WS is far more important than touring some obscure Sydney suburb right now. And what would I usually be doing between 10:30 and 2 anyway? Probably just reading a basketball book (fun fact of my time here: I've already read 4 books for fun and just bought 3 more the other day - Moms would be proud).
Anyway, when you're watching Game 5 tomorrow, don't think you're all alone. I'll be watching, too, rooting on those mercurial Tigs, not giving up hope. After all, it makes me proud to say that two years ago I predicted a Red Sox comeback after that disasterous Game 3 loss. This situation for the Tigers is easier. Three wins in Three nights.
So while I'm attending my first Opera House concert tomorrow and tasting some fine Aussy cuisine, the only indicator of whether it'll be a good weekend is this: will the Tigers win 3 or lose 1?
jake
Monday, October 23, 2006
Sports!
You know you love sports when you can enjoy a 142-98 basketball game that completely lacked defense. And I mean completly. This was the case Saturday night at the Sydney Kings-West Sydney Razorbacks NBL (National Basketball League) contest at the Sydney Entertainment Centre in downtown Sydney. It was my first taste of international basketball. Despite the lack of D, I must admit that guys over here can flat-out shoot. At one point in the first half I think the Kings made about eight shots in a row - many of them 3-pointers. It was fun to watch the offensive explosion occurring.
With tickets only $15 a pop, and basketball my favorite sport to watch in person, I'm sure I'll be back to the SEC later this season. I'll try to find a more competitive game, with maybe some defense. But even if I don't, I'll still enjoy the experience.
A game is a game, and a game I love!
peace,
jake
With tickets only $15 a pop, and basketball my favorite sport to watch in person, I'm sure I'll be back to the SEC later this season. I'll try to find a more competitive game, with maybe some defense. But even if I don't, I'll still enjoy the experience.
A game is a game, and a game I love!
peace,
jake
Work
I knew I was working 9-5 days on my second day at the job. I entered the Sydney University Aquatic Center around 9, with sun rays splattering down upon me. When I exited the office nearly eight hours later, the sky was overcast, rain threatening the heart of Sydney. It was not an experience I'm familiar with. I've always worked at odd times or outside. Night jobs, mornign gigs, you name it. But never 9-5. Well, I'll have to survive the grind for at least eight weeks of my life.
I am interning with Sydney University Sports, writing articles for the website that will hopefully also get passed on to other publications. There is a lot of freedom at the job. On the second day my supervisor provided me with a list of athletes to write features on, and, without actually saying it, implied that I should "do my thing." This is not to say that I'm on an island. There are knowledgeable people around me who I can ask for questions or advice (for instance, if I'm completely baffled by the sport of cricket - a common occurence). But I am on my own. I sit at a desk, calling athletes for interviews, surfing the web for information on sports, and writing. It's not a bad gig.
The 1-hour lunch break ain't bad either. This week, when those Tigs are playing Games 3, 4 and 5 in St. Louis, I will use that break to watch the final few innngs. Without that break, I don't know what I'd be doing this week. Can't miss the Series!
So that's about the wrap on work. To view my articles, visit susport.com. Click on the links for the articles on the homepage. Some may be by me, and others won't be. You'll just have to sift through them.
enjoy the Tigers,
jake
I am interning with Sydney University Sports, writing articles for the website that will hopefully also get passed on to other publications. There is a lot of freedom at the job. On the second day my supervisor provided me with a list of athletes to write features on, and, without actually saying it, implied that I should "do my thing." This is not to say that I'm on an island. There are knowledgeable people around me who I can ask for questions or advice (for instance, if I'm completely baffled by the sport of cricket - a common occurence). But I am on my own. I sit at a desk, calling athletes for interviews, surfing the web for information on sports, and writing. It's not a bad gig.
The 1-hour lunch break ain't bad either. This week, when those Tigs are playing Games 3, 4 and 5 in St. Louis, I will use that break to watch the final few innngs. Without that break, I don't know what I'd be doing this week. Can't miss the Series!
So that's about the wrap on work. To view my articles, visit susport.com. Click on the links for the articles on the homepage. Some may be by me, and others won't be. You'll just have to sift through them.
enjoy the Tigers,
jake
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Night 6, Days 7,8 - Byron Bay
At least the trip ended on a good note. Byron Bay was easily the highlight of our spring break on the road. A little town nestled along the coast, featuring Australia's most easterly point, Byron Bay was my kind of place. There were plenty of things to do outdoors away from all the people in addition to a vibrant night life.
On the first day there I embarked on my first real "adventure" of the trip. I went rainforest biking with four other outdoor enthusiasts. Yes, it was pricey, but it was well worth it. We drove over an hour out of town into complete seclusion. Hardly any people. No sounds except for the colorful chirping of birds. We biked over 40 kilometers (approximately 27 miles), starting out on a small dirt road, but also turning off onto some paths into the forest. These paths were not easy biking. Covered by sticks and roots and with plants jutting out from either side, you simply could not take your eyes off the terrain in front of you. Several times we had to stop to lift our bikes over logs, but not enough times to ruin the experience. It was a completely new adventure to me, and I loved it. It was also physically taxing - just my kind of day! The first half hour and the last half hour were almost strictly uphill. By the end of the journey I was spent, which made the stop on the way back at a nearby creek for a dip all the more ravishing. Even the downhill portions of the ride was far from relaxing. With several potholes and rocks on the road, I had to keep my eyes peeled and my hands on the brakes. Going full speed could have spelled suicide. But I didn't fall once, and I feel a better biker now than I did before the ride. Now I just need to bike down a mountain. I actually think I might be able to do it. I'm teeming with confidence.
Although I knew just about anything after the rainforest bike ride would be a letdown, I enjoyed the remainder of my stay in Byron. That night the hostel hosted a barbecue and I made some cool cats. We sat around a picnic table and played cards well into the night. Maybe I stayed up too late, because in the morning I slept through my alarm which was set to wake me at 4:20 a.m. for a sunrise tour of the bay. It would have been absolutely indelible, but Mike and I made up for it in the afternoon. But before we could do that, it was time to watch the Tigers close the deal. After missing Game 3 because of the bike trip, I wasn't going to miss the end of the possible clinch-a-spot-in-the-World-Series game. I finally found the hostel's TV in the top of the eighth inning and then watched as Magglio Ordonez's three-run shot sent the crowd back home into a frenzy. I stared in awe at the screen, wishing, at least for that moment, that I was back home.
I needed to do something to make me feel good about where I was, so Melvin and I embarked on a beach walk to Byron's lighthouse, the purported viewing area of the sunrise (of course, now, I'll never know). It was an amazing walk. About halfway there, we stopped at a lookout hill, jutted out over the ocean. As we were taking the customary pictures of the ocean below and in front of us, another person on the deck spotted a large group of dolphins frolicking in the surf. Soon enough I spotted them, too, and took some spotty pictures of them. It was nice to see something other than a washed-up jellyfish at the beach. We continued our walk, cutting through some rainforest and finally ascended hundreds of stairs to the lighthouse. It definitely was the sunrise-viewing hangout. It offered panoramic views in every direction. What more can I say? I felt as if I was on top of a mountain, albeit a Rattlesnake. Nothing more than that.
On the way back from the lighthouse, I stopped at a city festival for lunch. There were a plethora of food booths offering fresh cuisine. I didn't know what to choose, it all looked so good. I finally settled on some delicious, spicy curry. Then I "washed it down" with some gelato, a semi-healthy kind of ice cream. I have to reiterate: delicious. I was considering a swim before our bus ride home, but on the walk from the festival to the hostel, I saw several jellyfish on the shore. I thought better of it.
A 13-hour bus ride and a jelly fish bite don't go together too well. At least I think that's the case.
Well, that's my spring break story. We made it back to Sydney at 6 a.m. on Monday morning and prepared for class that day and the start of our internship the next day. It was back to the busy life. Ain't that sad?
pictures to come.....
jake
On the first day there I embarked on my first real "adventure" of the trip. I went rainforest biking with four other outdoor enthusiasts. Yes, it was pricey, but it was well worth it. We drove over an hour out of town into complete seclusion. Hardly any people. No sounds except for the colorful chirping of birds. We biked over 40 kilometers (approximately 27 miles), starting out on a small dirt road, but also turning off onto some paths into the forest. These paths were not easy biking. Covered by sticks and roots and with plants jutting out from either side, you simply could not take your eyes off the terrain in front of you. Several times we had to stop to lift our bikes over logs, but not enough times to ruin the experience. It was a completely new adventure to me, and I loved it. It was also physically taxing - just my kind of day! The first half hour and the last half hour were almost strictly uphill. By the end of the journey I was spent, which made the stop on the way back at a nearby creek for a dip all the more ravishing. Even the downhill portions of the ride was far from relaxing. With several potholes and rocks on the road, I had to keep my eyes peeled and my hands on the brakes. Going full speed could have spelled suicide. But I didn't fall once, and I feel a better biker now than I did before the ride. Now I just need to bike down a mountain. I actually think I might be able to do it. I'm teeming with confidence.
Although I knew just about anything after the rainforest bike ride would be a letdown, I enjoyed the remainder of my stay in Byron. That night the hostel hosted a barbecue and I made some cool cats. We sat around a picnic table and played cards well into the night. Maybe I stayed up too late, because in the morning I slept through my alarm which was set to wake me at 4:20 a.m. for a sunrise tour of the bay. It would have been absolutely indelible, but Mike and I made up for it in the afternoon. But before we could do that, it was time to watch the Tigers close the deal. After missing Game 3 because of the bike trip, I wasn't going to miss the end of the possible clinch-a-spot-in-the-World-Series game. I finally found the hostel's TV in the top of the eighth inning and then watched as Magglio Ordonez's three-run shot sent the crowd back home into a frenzy. I stared in awe at the screen, wishing, at least for that moment, that I was back home.
I needed to do something to make me feel good about where I was, so Melvin and I embarked on a beach walk to Byron's lighthouse, the purported viewing area of the sunrise (of course, now, I'll never know). It was an amazing walk. About halfway there, we stopped at a lookout hill, jutted out over the ocean. As we were taking the customary pictures of the ocean below and in front of us, another person on the deck spotted a large group of dolphins frolicking in the surf. Soon enough I spotted them, too, and took some spotty pictures of them. It was nice to see something other than a washed-up jellyfish at the beach. We continued our walk, cutting through some rainforest and finally ascended hundreds of stairs to the lighthouse. It definitely was the sunrise-viewing hangout. It offered panoramic views in every direction. What more can I say? I felt as if I was on top of a mountain, albeit a Rattlesnake. Nothing more than that.
On the way back from the lighthouse, I stopped at a city festival for lunch. There were a plethora of food booths offering fresh cuisine. I didn't know what to choose, it all looked so good. I finally settled on some delicious, spicy curry. Then I "washed it down" with some gelato, a semi-healthy kind of ice cream. I have to reiterate: delicious. I was considering a swim before our bus ride home, but on the walk from the festival to the hostel, I saw several jellyfish on the shore. I thought better of it.
A 13-hour bus ride and a jelly fish bite don't go together too well. At least I think that's the case.
Well, that's my spring break story. We made it back to Sydney at 6 a.m. on Monday morning and prepared for class that day and the start of our internship the next day. It was back to the busy life. Ain't that sad?
pictures to come.....
jake
Day 5 - toursity Surfer's Paradise
The place reeked of Americans. I'm telling you that right now. Tourists. They were everywhere. With their straw hats and khaki short, man, it was odious. Yeah, I guess I was a tourist, too, but not like them. Anyway, we spent most of our time at Surfers, appropriately, on the beach. I really don't think we could have done much more with the place.
It was just afflicted with tourists.
We could have done the theme park tour, but that just ain't me. I'm done with that stuff. So Melvin and I hit the beach. Man, let me tell you, the second day was frustrating. We rented surfboards, because, c'mon, how can you not go to Surfers' Paradise and not surf? And the surfing was just awful. The waves were tricky, coming from different directions and in bunches, and my board was as slippery as our front steps in Ann Arbor after an ice storm. I might have gotten up on the board once. Once! I felt all the progress I had made at surf camp dissipate. Just like that. It was frustrating, no doubt about it. I washed away my tribulations with some pizza and a milk shake and looked forward to the bus ride to Byron Bay.
It was just afflicted with tourists.
We could have done the theme park tour, but that just ain't me. I'm done with that stuff. So Melvin and I hit the beach. Man, let me tell you, the second day was frustrating. We rented surfboards, because, c'mon, how can you not go to Surfers' Paradise and not surf? And the surfing was just awful. The waves were tricky, coming from different directions and in bunches, and my board was as slippery as our front steps in Ann Arbor after an ice storm. I might have gotten up on the board once. Once! I felt all the progress I had made at surf camp dissipate. Just like that. It was frustrating, no doubt about it. I washed away my tribulations with some pizza and a milk shake and looked forward to the bus ride to Byron Bay.
Day 4 - Brisbane
Before I expound on our brief Brisbane experience, let me just clarify that I did a poor job planning this trip. First of all, Mike and I our probably not the best travel partners - at least in terms of finding things to do together. I'm more of an outdoors, adventurous kind of guy. Mike enjoys walking around different towns, checking out the storefronts and buildings. Secondly, on the type of trip we embarked on, where we didn't spend more than two days in a location, it is important to plan activities in advance, because if you don't, you might not be able to put together an agenda at the last minute. Another mistake of mine. So in many of the places we traveled to we simply ended up walking around, partaking in quaint activities.
Brisbane could have been better. Could have been worse. Upon arriving, we quickly found a bar in which to watch the end of the Tigers' Game 1 win over the A's. I was convinced the series would still be going when I returned to Sydney, but I still wanted to catch as much action as possible. After taking a good half hour to find our hostel, Melvin and I walked down to the Botanical Gardens, hopin' to rent bikes and take them around the city. It was the best we could do with the little time we had. We found a place and enjoyed a scenic, two-hour ride up and down the Yarra River. It was nice. When I'm on a bike, I have fun. Period.
But that was about it for Brisbane. For some reason, I was tired that night. After a nice dinner in a restaurant that was showing SportsCenter - big thumbs up - and a waffle cone sundae,I returned to the hostel and crashed.
There was nothing to the next day. I woke up, ate a continental breakfast, found the same bar across from the bus station, watched sever innings of baseball... and then had to hurry to the bus. On the way to Surfer's Paradie, Bust gave me play-by-play of a nerve-racking bottom-of-the-9th-inning. Bases loaded. Frank "Big Hurt" Thomas at the plate. A's down by 3. Two out. And he popped out. Yes! Tigers up 2-0.
Brisbane could have been better. Could have been worse. Upon arriving, we quickly found a bar in which to watch the end of the Tigers' Game 1 win over the A's. I was convinced the series would still be going when I returned to Sydney, but I still wanted to catch as much action as possible. After taking a good half hour to find our hostel, Melvin and I walked down to the Botanical Gardens, hopin' to rent bikes and take them around the city. It was the best we could do with the little time we had. We found a place and enjoyed a scenic, two-hour ride up and down the Yarra River. It was nice. When I'm on a bike, I have fun. Period.
But that was about it for Brisbane. For some reason, I was tired that night. After a nice dinner in a restaurant that was showing SportsCenter - big thumbs up - and a waffle cone sundae,I returned to the hostel and crashed.
There was nothing to the next day. I woke up, ate a continental breakfast, found the same bar across from the bus station, watched sever innings of baseball... and then had to hurry to the bus. On the way to Surfer's Paradie, Bust gave me play-by-play of a nerve-racking bottom-of-the-9th-inning. Bases loaded. Frank "Big Hurt" Thomas at the plate. A's down by 3. Two out. And he popped out. Yes! Tigers up 2-0.
Days 2,3 - Fraser, Fraser, Fraser
We spent all of Monday and much of Tuesday on Australia's most famous island, Fraser Island. Apparently the sharks surrounding the island don't scare people away, because there were a lot of people on that island. Not as many people as sharks in the water, but still a lot of people. That was the island's biggest vice: it was too populated and, I hate to say this, too commercialized. I realize that it's a huge island and you problem couldn't explore much of it without vehicles, but, alas, I've been spoiled by the Appalachians.
We took the guided tour, which was probably the right choice. Some people choose the self-guided tour, where they are rented out 4 x 4's and drive them throughout the island on the sandy, narrow, dangerous roads. Upon returning from Sydney, I learned that a group of friends had managed to flip their vehicle and had to pay $200 each for repairs. So choosing the guided tour was smart. Plus, my callow ass can't drive stick anyway (and I wouldn't trust Melvin to either).
Our guide, Patty, took us in a huge bus to as many of the island's "attractions" as he could. We took a walk through a rainforest, which was pretty cool (pictures to come). Patty had a great wealth of knowledge, pointing out interesting facts about the plants, trees, water in the creek, you name it. My "Patty Fact of the Day" was that it was perfectly healthy to drink the water in the creek. Patty even pointed out that the creek's water was likely better to drink than some bottled water (and better for the environment). I'm with you on that, Patty. We also visited two pristine lakes on the first day - Basin Lake and Lake McKenzie. Basin Lake was smaller, but absolutely picturesque. Both lakes get all the water from rainfall, and there are no living creatures in them either. Without fear of encountering a cantankerous creature, I swam all the way across Basin Lake! I felt like Aunt Vic. I'll never swim across a lake again. When we arrived at Lake McKenzie, it started pouring. You know how much I adore rain, but it was also cold out and the water wasn't that soothing (my skinny frame probably didn't help me either). Anyway, we swam for a while before hopping back on the bus, our teeth chattering like kids on a school bus. We returned to the central resort and immediately looked for the hot tub. Upon locating it, and soaking in it for a good hour, we rued about our shivering bodies of the past.
On the second day, Patty had to improvise his schedule. Because of extremely high tides in the morning, he couldn't take us out on the beach - yes, vehicles drive on Fraser's beach sand - so instead we went bus bushwacking, driving on roads too insular for the large vehicle. The bus rocked back and forth as we collided with unlucky tree branches. I wasn't sure we were going to make it out alive of that jungle.
We did.
In the afternoon we found the beach, which was beutiful except for all the vehicles polluting it. Although Patty said the waves wash away the vehicles tracks each day, I still couldn't paint myself a pristine picture of the place. Anyway, back to the "highlights." We visited a cute little freshwater stream for lunch. I would have swam down the current, but the water was only maybe two feet deep. Not deep enough for me. So I just ate. Then we headed to an ancient shipwreck washed up on the shore (sorry, again, don't remember the name). It was nice to look at for about a minute and a half. Don't worry, I've got pictures. The highlight of the afternoon was our stop at Indian Head, the highest point on the island. It was a cliff, maybe a couple hundred feet high, overlooking the ocean. After about a 7-minute hike from the beach, we reached the top. I could stayed up there all day. It was windy and the temperature was perfect. Flies? There were none. Cars? Not if I looked straight ahead. The cliff was so close to the ocean, that vehicles had to take a road behind it to continue on the beach. I sat near the edge of the cliff for as long as I could, soaking in the ocean breeze. It was the highlight of Fraser.
After a long, bumpy ride back to our cabins in da bus, we ate dinner and then waited for the ferry to return us to mundane Harvey Bay. Finally, after two hours and some technical difficulties, the ferry was ready for us. We took the hour boat ride back to Harvey and didn't have to worry about finding nightlife in Harvey. It was already past 10 p.m. and we had a 5:55 a.m.bus to catch the following morning. We hit the sack.
We took the guided tour, which was probably the right choice. Some people choose the self-guided tour, where they are rented out 4 x 4's and drive them throughout the island on the sandy, narrow, dangerous roads. Upon returning from Sydney, I learned that a group of friends had managed to flip their vehicle and had to pay $200 each for repairs. So choosing the guided tour was smart. Plus, my callow ass can't drive stick anyway (and I wouldn't trust Melvin to either).
Our guide, Patty, took us in a huge bus to as many of the island's "attractions" as he could. We took a walk through a rainforest, which was pretty cool (pictures to come). Patty had a great wealth of knowledge, pointing out interesting facts about the plants, trees, water in the creek, you name it. My "Patty Fact of the Day" was that it was perfectly healthy to drink the water in the creek. Patty even pointed out that the creek's water was likely better to drink than some bottled water (and better for the environment). I'm with you on that, Patty. We also visited two pristine lakes on the first day - Basin Lake and Lake McKenzie. Basin Lake was smaller, but absolutely picturesque. Both lakes get all the water from rainfall, and there are no living creatures in them either. Without fear of encountering a cantankerous creature, I swam all the way across Basin Lake! I felt like Aunt Vic. I'll never swim across a lake again. When we arrived at Lake McKenzie, it started pouring. You know how much I adore rain, but it was also cold out and the water wasn't that soothing (my skinny frame probably didn't help me either). Anyway, we swam for a while before hopping back on the bus, our teeth chattering like kids on a school bus. We returned to the central resort and immediately looked for the hot tub. Upon locating it, and soaking in it for a good hour, we rued about our shivering bodies of the past.
On the second day, Patty had to improvise his schedule. Because of extremely high tides in the morning, he couldn't take us out on the beach - yes, vehicles drive on Fraser's beach sand - so instead we went bus bushwacking, driving on roads too insular for the large vehicle. The bus rocked back and forth as we collided with unlucky tree branches. I wasn't sure we were going to make it out alive of that jungle.
We did.
In the afternoon we found the beach, which was beutiful except for all the vehicles polluting it. Although Patty said the waves wash away the vehicles tracks each day, I still couldn't paint myself a pristine picture of the place. Anyway, back to the "highlights." We visited a cute little freshwater stream for lunch. I would have swam down the current, but the water was only maybe two feet deep. Not deep enough for me. So I just ate. Then we headed to an ancient shipwreck washed up on the shore (sorry, again, don't remember the name). It was nice to look at for about a minute and a half. Don't worry, I've got pictures. The highlight of the afternoon was our stop at Indian Head, the highest point on the island. It was a cliff, maybe a couple hundred feet high, overlooking the ocean. After about a 7-minute hike from the beach, we reached the top. I could stayed up there all day. It was windy and the temperature was perfect. Flies? There were none. Cars? Not if I looked straight ahead. The cliff was so close to the ocean, that vehicles had to take a road behind it to continue on the beach. I sat near the edge of the cliff for as long as I could, soaking in the ocean breeze. It was the highlight of Fraser.
After a long, bumpy ride back to our cabins in da bus, we ate dinner and then waited for the ferry to return us to mundane Harvey Bay. Finally, after two hours and some technical difficulties, the ferry was ready for us. We took the hour boat ride back to Harvey and didn't have to worry about finding nightlife in Harvey. It was already past 10 p.m. and we had a 5:55 a.m.bus to catch the following morning. We hit the sack.
Day 1 - Harvey Bay
On Sunday, 15 October, Mike and I caught a Virgin Blue flight to Harvey Bay, a small, retirement town north of Brisbane on Australia's east coast and adjacent to tourist-friendly Fraser Island.
Harvey Bay was, in a word, bland. We arrived at our hostel, Palace Backpackers, around 12:30 and spent most of the day's remainder walking. We cruised untasteful beaches - I didn't even bother putting my swim trunks on - for several hours, eventually coming to the highlight of the place: an extremely long pier out into the bay. It must have taken Melvin and I a good 20 minutes to walk out to the end of it. That's how long it was. It actually was pretty neat, because there was a sandbar that extended parallel of the pier, making it seem as if we were on a miny island, with the bay behind us toward shore. But that was about it in Harvey Bay. We ate at a Chinese buffet for dinner and then walked the dark, empty streets back to our hostel.
I fell asleep around 8:30 p.m.
Harvey Bay was, in a word, bland. We arrived at our hostel, Palace Backpackers, around 12:30 and spent most of the day's remainder walking. We cruised untasteful beaches - I didn't even bother putting my swim trunks on - for several hours, eventually coming to the highlight of the place: an extremely long pier out into the bay. It must have taken Melvin and I a good 20 minutes to walk out to the end of it. That's how long it was. It actually was pretty neat, because there was a sandbar that extended parallel of the pier, making it seem as if we were on a miny island, with the bay behind us toward shore. But that was about it in Harvey Bay. We ate at a Chinese buffet for dinner and then walked the dark, empty streets back to our hostel.
I fell asleep around 8:30 p.m.
Spring break... finally
sorry, sorry, sorry. I know all you cats have been checking my blog every few minutes, waiting for my spring break post... sorry. I have no excuses (No, I'm not gonna throw the "I was busy" shat at you). I haven't been that busy. I'm just lazy. And I've spent way too much time online trying to get Bust a ticket for the Series.
Back to the topic at hand. I'm gonna type for the next hour and a half. Hopefully I'll be able to get most of the spring break blogging done. I'll do separate entries for each place Mike and I visited. Some will be longer than others, some will be more interested than others.
Pictures to come later.
Jake
Back to the topic at hand. I'm gonna type for the next hour and a half. Hopefully I'll be able to get most of the spring break blogging done. I'll do separate entries for each place Mike and I visited. Some will be longer than others, some will be more interested than others.
Pictures to come later.
Jake
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Heading off to spring break
hey guys,
sorry I haven't posted in a while, but life has been pretty uneventful around here. This week was all about finishing up school work. On Tuesday I helped give a group presentation on the Sydney Swans, the local Australian Rules Football team here. On Wednesday I turned in my final paper and helped to wrap up my group's film about the "Kangaroo Kid." On Friday a large portion of the Boston Univerpsity group showed up to watch the five films our class made. Our film received several laughs. It was nice to see that all of our hard work - especially Mike's - paid off. Today I finished up the 5-week class portion of my time here with final exams for my film class and introduction class. They went decently. At least I know I won't be failing out of the program.
And now, tomorrow morning, Mike and I are heading off for our spring break trip up the east coast and back down. I won't be carrying my laptop, but I'll be sure to post when I return in a week. At that time I'll be starting my internship at Sydney University Sports, where I'll write stories for the web site and other publications. Again, more to come on that later. Well, I gotta head to bed now. I'm waking up at 5:30 in the morning to watch the Tigers try to eliminate the Yanks before heading to the airport.
Go Tigers and go UM! I'll be watching...
jake
sorry I haven't posted in a while, but life has been pretty uneventful around here. This week was all about finishing up school work. On Tuesday I helped give a group presentation on the Sydney Swans, the local Australian Rules Football team here. On Wednesday I turned in my final paper and helped to wrap up my group's film about the "Kangaroo Kid." On Friday a large portion of the Boston Univerpsity group showed up to watch the five films our class made. Our film received several laughs. It was nice to see that all of our hard work - especially Mike's - paid off. Today I finished up the 5-week class portion of my time here with final exams for my film class and introduction class. They went decently. At least I know I won't be failing out of the program.
And now, tomorrow morning, Mike and I are heading off for our spring break trip up the east coast and back down. I won't be carrying my laptop, but I'll be sure to post when I return in a week. At that time I'll be starting my internship at Sydney University Sports, where I'll write stories for the web site and other publications. Again, more to come on that later. Well, I gotta head to bed now. I'm waking up at 5:30 in the morning to watch the Tigers try to eliminate the Yanks before heading to the airport.
Go Tigers and go UM! I'll be watching...
jake
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
lazy 4-day weekend
Unfortunately I wasn't able to take advantage of this past 4-day weekend like I hoped. Just days before the weekend, I had grand aspirations of knocking off my load of work before taking a 2- or 3-day trip into the Blue Mountains. I envisioned myself climbing through caves - caves without snakes, that is - and through canyons. But sickness got in the way. It may have been due to the Thai special and huge bag of M&Ms I consumed on Wednesday afternoon, or because I was back in Sydney (after my stay in Melbourne); doesn't matter. Bottom line: I got sick Wednesday night and was out of comission all of Thursday and Friday, doing nothing more than reading my sports books and vainly trying to find a somewhat interesting show on Australian television.
I didn't have a problem finding something to watch on Saturday. Feeling a little better, I headed out with Steve to Darling Harbour to watch the Swans' championship game in Melbourne against the West Coast Eagles. The Swans came all the way back from a 28-point deficit to get within one point twice late in the fourth quarter, but they couldn't get over the hump, eventually succombing to the Eagles, much to the distaste of Steve and I and our fellow Swans' supporters in the bar. We trudged back to the UniLodge, depressed. One point! One point in Aussie Rules football is like a quarter of a point in American football. Almost 200 points are scored in many games. It, undoubtedly, was a rough loss to take.
On Saturday night I went out with a bunch of folks to Newtown, a nice restaurant section of the city, to celebrate Mike's 22nd birthday. I shoulda stayed in. I came home feeling sick again. Fortunately, I woke up Sunday morning (or, more like afternoon) feeling OK, and I headed out with Mike and Claire (the other student in our film group) to film some kangaroos in Palm Beach, a northern suburb of Sydney. After an hour-and-a-half bus ride (uggghhh!) we arrived and quickly hopped a fairy to the basin, where the wildlife peacefully resides.
We didn't see kangaroos (apparently they don't populate that particular island) but there were plenty of wallabies to compensate for their absence. Wallabies are basically downsized kangaroos. They still hop and do all that good stuff. It was amazing. They were hopping around in the camping area, right in front of loud, energetic kids and worried, haggared parents. You really had to work if you wanted to scare them off.
It was my first experience with the Australian wildlife - hopefully there'll be more during our upcoming spring break.
Monday, like most of the weekend, was uneventful. I finished a paper and then hit Coogie beach for an hour. But it was really windy and actually pretty cold. I retired back to the 'Lodge, acknowledging that my weekend was over.
jake
I didn't have a problem finding something to watch on Saturday. Feeling a little better, I headed out with Steve to Darling Harbour to watch the Swans' championship game in Melbourne against the West Coast Eagles. The Swans came all the way back from a 28-point deficit to get within one point twice late in the fourth quarter, but they couldn't get over the hump, eventually succombing to the Eagles, much to the distaste of Steve and I and our fellow Swans' supporters in the bar. We trudged back to the UniLodge, depressed. One point! One point in Aussie Rules football is like a quarter of a point in American football. Almost 200 points are scored in many games. It, undoubtedly, was a rough loss to take.
On Saturday night I went out with a bunch of folks to Newtown, a nice restaurant section of the city, to celebrate Mike's 22nd birthday. I shoulda stayed in. I came home feeling sick again. Fortunately, I woke up Sunday morning (or, more like afternoon) feeling OK, and I headed out with Mike and Claire (the other student in our film group) to film some kangaroos in Palm Beach, a northern suburb of Sydney. After an hour-and-a-half bus ride (uggghhh!) we arrived and quickly hopped a fairy to the basin, where the wildlife peacefully resides.
We didn't see kangaroos (apparently they don't populate that particular island) but there were plenty of wallabies to compensate for their absence. Wallabies are basically downsized kangaroos. They still hop and do all that good stuff. It was amazing. They were hopping around in the camping area, right in front of loud, energetic kids and worried, haggared parents. You really had to work if you wanted to scare them off.
It was my first experience with the Australian wildlife - hopefully there'll be more during our upcoming spring break.
Monday, like most of the weekend, was uneventful. I finished a paper and then hit Coogie beach for an hour. But it was really windy and actually pretty cold. I retired back to the 'Lodge, acknowledging that my weekend was over.
jake
DSC01338
DSC01338
Originally uploaded by jakeblloyd2116.
Looking north up the coast during our Coogie to Bondi adventure
DSC01360
DSC01360
Originally uploaded by jakeblloyd2116.
should be a video from the Swans' semifinal victory over Fremantle
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