I am sitting in Sydney airport as I write this, wondering how exactly I got here. I seem to remember about a month ago, getting on a plane to Japan – it couldn’t have been any longer than that, could it? Well apparently it was. Apparently the next time I go to bed it will be in my own bed, back home in Ireland. I still have some trouble actually believing this.
In fact, by the time I finish and post this blog I will be in Dublin. I will be at home. And I will probably be finishing this off on my PC rather than on this netbook.
You’ve probably already read my list of things I’m going to do, and I’ll probably already have done some of them by the time I get round to putting this up.
But let us not worry yet about the future. Let us start in the past while I remind you how I got here, quite literally with a list of where I’ve been. () denotes places I stopped or flew into but didn’t actually travel around.
Dublin ->
Tokyo -> [Japan]
Nagoya ->
Odai ->
Kyoto ->
Osaka ->
Nagasaki ->
Fukuoka ->
Nagoya ->
Tokyo ->
(Beijing) ->
Hong Kong ->
Bangkok -> [Thailand]
Chiang Mai ->
Pai ->
Chiang Mai ->
Chiang Khong->
Pak Beng -> [Laos]
Luang Prabang ->
Vang Vienn ->
Vientienne ->
(Pakse) ->
Siem Reap -> [Cambodia]
Phnom Penh ->
Bangkok -> [Thailand]
(Surat Thani) ->
Koh Samui ->
Koh Phangan ->
(Hat Yi) ->
(Malaysia) ->
(Singapore) ->
Sanur [Bali]
Kuta ->
Ubud ->
Kuta ->
Sanur ->
Darwin -> [Australia]
Cairns ->
Mission Beach ->
Cairns ->
Airlie Beach ->
Mackay ->
Brisbane ->
Byron Bay ->
Hat Head(?) ->
Stockton ->
Hornsby ->
Sydney ->
(Singapore) ->
(Frankfurt) ->
Dublin.
Not a bad list, as lists go. Better for the memories too, rather than being just words on a page. Each place is graved with faces and sights and sounds, the swirl of remembrances and tinged with a sadness at the letting go. Some of these places are special, wonderful places, others, merely made so by the company. Angkor Wat for instance would be a fabulous place without the people, but Vang Vienn was made what it is by the people I went with and met there.
So, here I am, sitting in Sydney airport, and I’ve nothing much left to say. Goodbyes are said, or they are left unsaid, and hellos await some thousand so miles away, but like al airports, this place inhabits that no-man’s land between places, a liminal space filled with the expectations of somewhere else. For me it is home, not just the green-green grass, but the concrete and the earth, the feel and the taste of it. God knows, it’ll probably feel weird at first, but I’m looking forward to it. All this waiting is gonna be annoying. Thankfully I’m a patient person (won’t it be ironic if I flip out and get arrested or something on the way home, hehe!).
One thing I will say – I’ve been horribly disappointed to learn that Sydney airport is nothing like the Sydney airport in Lost! Apparently all those scenes were filmed in the LA convention centre! Goddamn it!
The flight from Sydney to Singapore was pretty easy. In terms of what I’ve done on this trip, seven hours isn’t asking a whole lot. I was still starting to feel a little tired by the end, but not so much. The food wasn’t great, because it was airplane food, and if you expect good food on a flight you’ve obviously hit your head one too many times. Sometimes you do get good food, but you should never expect it. Also, there were films. I watched Harry Potter and Prisoner of Azkhban on my laptop and Salt, and then I wanted Despicable Me and that owl film I forget the name of The Guardians of something. It was a book, or something. Despicable Me was definitely the best.
I also got to watch sunset, from the plane, and there was enough cloud cover to make it spectacular, all orange and red fire falling into the twilight, white and grey clouds lit up by light, shadows falling in the crevices to make patterns of dark amidst the flare of fire. I’d nearly get on a plane to see something like that.
We were only in Singapore for an hour so I had time to use the jacks and then head to my gate where I plugged in my phone and my laptop in an unattended power socket. I’m not actually sure if I was allowed to, or if I was ignored simply because no one wanted to challenge the sheer audacity of it. Shrug. I don’t care. Me needs power, power is there – ergo, I will use.
After that we bundled back onto the plane, and I was actually asleep in about ten minutes. I’ve no idea how that actually happened, but apparently I was tired. Which makes sense, since it was two in the morning Australia time. Unfortunately, when I woke up about an hour later, the plane hadn’t moved . . .
At first I had no idea what was going on, but I figured I hadn’t been asleep that long. It took me about twenty minutes to realise that I had even been asleep. Apparently, continuing Quantus’ winning streak the last few months, something in the engine wasn’t working, so it had to be swapped out. At least this time the plane hadn’t taken off. Eventually we did get into the air, a little under two hours late.
It’s a twelve hour flight but they expected to make up some time, not that it mattered to me. I would still be in plenty of time to catch my flight back home, leaving at eleven German time. I spent the vast majority of this flight asleep so it went pretty well. I’d wake up every hour or maybe two if I was lucky and move around a bit in the seat, finding a spot that seemed marginally more comfortable that the last. Then, about four hours before the end I found I wasn’t tired enough to sleep anymore so I gave up the ghost and stuck on the TV again. I tried watching Life As We Know it, where Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhmal play some people saddled with their dead friends’ kid, but sadly, it was shite, so I turned it off. I assume it ends happily with them married and having their own kid, who they raise as the brother of the little girl they already have. And even if that isn’t how it ends, I don’t care.
I put on Megamind instead. I’ve already seen it, but who cares, it’s really awesome. After that there wasn’t much time left so I put on the Madonna episode of Glee, which I am ashamed to admit I found quite funny, but shush, only the internet knows now, so don’t tell anyone else I said that. I just think Quinn should have been in it more. But then I always thing Quinn should be in it more. I also didn’t quite get to see the end because they cut it off for landing so I may have to borrow that from someone at some point.
I also had the pleasure of seeing the full moon over a cloud bank for about a half hour before landing. The clouds were huge, fluffy and unbroken so it looked like a field of the whitest, freshest snow stretching out for miles, with a full and golden disk hovering just about it, bright as anything and casting shadows everywhere over the snow, picking out every fold and rise of it. You might have thought you could just dive into it and be caught up by it.
You’d have been wrong, but still, it’s a nice image. Just don’t actually try it. Unless you have a parachute.
Landing in Frankfurt was initially quite joyous. Only a few hours and I’d be home, standing on Irish soil again. But then things took a little turn for the worst. When I went to see if I could find my gate I found out that my flight had been cancelled. I went to turn on my phone then, to see if I could find anything out while I made my way to Aer Lingus desk and managed to put the pin code in wrong three times and block it. It’s been two months, maybe three, since I’ve actually even used that SIM so it isn’t actually all that surprising.
As it turns out, I was pretty close. I just mixed up two digits. I then had to buy internet credit from the airport, ring Meteor on Skype and get my PUK code (while on Facebook) to get it working.
I also had to queue up at one Aer Lingus desk for ages to get a piece of paper to say I was on a new flight and then queue up at a different desk (with the same people from the other queue) to get my boarding pass and some meal vouchers. That all took about an hour, and was very fucking annoying. You know, because I’m tired and crotchety and not at all in the mood for this. By then it was only twelve hours til my next flight, woohoo . . .
So now I’m sitting in the Visitor Plaza in Frankfurt Airport with my laptop plugged into a plug that possibly belongs to McDonalds, or possibly Fly Away Bar, but who cares really, and I’m trying not to put my head down because I know I’ll be asleep in a heartbeat but I’ve got Lacey from Flyleaf blaring Treasure in my ear and it’s okay. After all, considering how long I’ve been away from home, what’s another twelve hours, right? And we’re already down to nine as I write this. Basically all this means is that I won’t be catching up on any TV today. That’ll have to wait til tomorrow. I’ll still be home in time to have some dinner and go to sleep, possibly after reading the Boys. And maybe Buffy. And maybe starting Against All Things Ending.
All that said, I wrote that about 5 hours ago and right now I’m SOOOOOO FUCKING BORED!!! Just thought I’d let you know how it was going since I’ve played some Kingdom Hearts, some Crisis Core, seventy-odd games of Free Cell, a dozen of Mahjong, read some of my book, dossed on Facebook, read the Irish Times, txted people back home, changed my clothes, listened to loud music, gone for a walk outside the airport, had breakfast and something vaguely close to dinner and yet it will still be an hour and a half before I can board the damn plane. We’re getting awfully close to me stabbing someone just for something to do – I mean, there are probably more productive things I could do, so I might do them first, but if I don’t find something to do soon, this shit could get out of hand . . .
Shit did not get out of hand. I got home safely and without killing anyone. I landed on time and was quickly through the passport check in Dublin airport; by half nine I was meeting my mam and my sister in Arrivals and we were heading home in the freezing cold.
What’s it like to be back home? Well it’s Sunday now so I’ve had a few days to think about this, but I think the weirdest part is home it’s not weird at all. I wonder if that’s what it’s like for other people too? Probably. It’s just that after so much time you worry things will change or expect them and they don’t really. Some things change in little ways, like the new crossroads where there used to be a roundabout – like the couple who aren’t together or the couple that got together, but the substance doesn’t change all that much, not really.
But it is nice to be home, to have my TV back, and free uncapped internet and a double bed! Mostly, it’s the bed, and the privacy of my room, the having of a place that belongs to me, a place for my stuff, for me. That’s nice. That’s probably the thing I missed most while travelling, my own personal space.
That and the 37 inch TV.
So that’s really it guys, I’m home and I’m happy, and in about a week I’m going to want to be travelling again, most likely.
One last goodbye then, to everyone I’ve met, and I leave you now, in hopes this is not really an ending,
Shane.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Things I Want To Do When I Get Home
This is a list of things I want to do when I get home. Some of them are going to seem very silly to you, but I'm being honest.
- Eliza Duskhu (it says things I want, not things that are likely to happen)
- Read Against All Things Ending, which has been waiting at home for me since the 28th of October
- Eat a chicken fillet and stuffing roll from Supervalu
- Watch Advent Children in full blu-ray glory on my TV
- Drive my car, somewhere, anywhere
- Watch Lost Season 6 again
- Go to the cinema
- Drink a pint of Guinness
- Play with Lola
- Wear a different pair of clothes other than one of ones I've had for the last few months
- Eat my mother's home cooking
- Play a game of Risk
- Eat some of that seasame chicken thing I never got to have
- Not move every three or four days
- Finish this blog and read it from start to finish
- Be in my own room for hours and and hours
- Listen to music very loud in my room, rather than with headphones
- And last but not least, see all my friends from home again!
Summary: Australia
It's really expensive so bring lots and of monies! But a cool place once you get over taking out a mortage to buy a bottle of coke.
Best Hostel - Nomads, Airlie Beach
Highlight - Roadtrip with the Germans
Lowpoint - The floods making travelling very difficult
Other cool things - Gorgeous photos everywhere!
Favourite Photos:
One piece of advice: Bring a hell of a lot of money with you. A hell of a lot.
Best Hostel - Nomads, Airlie Beach
Highlight - Roadtrip with the Germans
Lowpoint - The floods making travelling very difficult
Other cool things - Gorgeous photos everywhere!
Favourite Photos:
One piece of advice: Bring a hell of a lot of money with you. A hell of a lot.
Summary: Bali
Great place to chill out, but probably better if you're not on your own.
Best Hotel - Nick's Pension, Ubud
Highlight - Running into Fran and Jo in my hotel
Lowpoint - Kuta
Other cool things - Ubud is a great little town
One piece of advice - I wouldn't go for more than a week and I wouldn't go on my own
Best Hotel - Nick's Pension, Ubud
Highlight - Running into Fran and Jo in my hotel
Lowpoint - Kuta
Other cool things - Ubud is a great little town
One piece of advice - I wouldn't go for more than a week and I wouldn't go on my own
Summary: Cambodia
Better than I expected it to be, but I'd say it's very easy to get into a lot of trouble.
Best Hostel - Siem Reap Hostel, Siem Reap
Highlight - Germans turning up!
Lowpoint - Getting off the bus in Siem Reap and thinking, I might die now
Other cool things - Shooting guns in Phnom Penh
Favourite Photos:
Ta Prohm, Angkor
Shooting range, Phnom Penh
One piece of advice - use the tuk-tuk drivers in your hostel, don't try and pick them up on the street unless you have to.
Best Hostel - Siem Reap Hostel, Siem Reap
Highlight - Germans turning up!
Lowpoint - Getting off the bus in Siem Reap and thinking, I might die now
Other cool things - Shooting guns in Phnom Penh
Favourite Photos:
Ta Prohm, Angkor
Shooting range, Phnom Penh
One piece of advice - use the tuk-tuk drivers in your hostel, don't try and pick them up on the street unless you have to.
Summary: Laos
Nice place, I'd go back again, though I think you only need to do the slowboat once.
Best Hostel - None of them are great.
Lowpoint 1 - Second day on the slow boat
Highlight 1 - Getting off the slowboat
Lowpoint 2 - Carrying Bekka from the gutter to the room (kidding Bekaa, it was great)
Highlight 2 - TUBING!!
Other cool things - Waterfalls in Luang Prabang
One piece of advice - Don't be a fucking idiot when you're tubing
Best Hostel - None of them are great.
Lowpoint 1 - Second day on the slow boat
Highlight 1 - Getting off the slowboat
Lowpoint 2 - Carrying Bekka from the gutter to the room (kidding Bekaa, it was great)
Highlight 2 - TUBING!!
Other cool things - Waterfalls in Luang Prabang
One piece of advice - Don't be a fucking idiot when you're tubing
Summary: Thailand
GO TO CHAING MAI!!! This place saved the day, not just Chiang Mai, but even in Bangkok I felt fine about things. It really turned everything around. I loved Thailand and I'd go back any time.
Best Hostel - Spicy Thai, Chiang Mai
Highlight - Going to Chiang Mai and arriving in Spicy Thai and all the fantastic people I met there.
Lowpoint - Getting robbed on Koh Phangan
Other cool things - Learn to ride a moped in about twenty minutes.
Favourite Photos:
One piece of advice - Conmen are rampant, get advice from people, listen to that advice and if something feels dodgy, it really really will be.
Best Hostel - Spicy Thai, Chiang Mai
Highlight - Going to Chiang Mai and arriving in Spicy Thai and all the fantastic people I met there.
Lowpoint - Getting robbed on Koh Phangan
Other cool things - Learn to ride a moped in about twenty minutes.
Favourite Photos:
One piece of advice - Conmen are rampant, get advice from people, listen to that advice and if something feels dodgy, it really really will be.
Summary: Hong Kong
Probably the last place on my list. I didn't like it at all. Sorry I went there, even!
Best Hostel - no advice, I didn't like the one I stayed in much at all
Highlight - Swiss girls turning up like some Deus Ex Machina to save the day
Lowpoint - When my credit card stopped working and I couldn't find a phone to ring the bank
Favourite Photo:
One piece of advice - Try not to stay in Chung King Mansion, or around central Kowloon at all.
Best Hostel - no advice, I didn't like the one I stayed in much at all
Highlight - Swiss girls turning up like some Deus Ex Machina to save the day
Lowpoint - When my credit card stopped working and I couldn't find a phone to ring the bank
Favourite Photo:
One piece of advice - Try not to stay in Chung King Mansion, or around central Kowloon at all.
Summary: Japan
Japan has to go either at the top, or nearly at the top of my favourite countries list. I think Chaing Mai manages to beat everywhere in Japan, but Japan probably manages to beat Thailand.
Japanese people are lovely and everything is efficient and runs well. You're more likely to have trouble ordering food than you are to have trouble getting from one part of Japan to the other, and you'll end up with some food.
It's a bit expensive though, so bring plenty of money.
Best Hostel - Sakura Hostel, Tokyo.
Highlight - Knacker drinking in Kyoto
Lowpoint - Walking for an hour to get to the Fukuoka Tower
Other cool things - Rockabillies in Harajuku!
Favourite Photo:
One piece of advice - get a rail pass if you want to move outside of Tokyo.
Japanese people are lovely and everything is efficient and runs well. You're more likely to have trouble ordering food than you are to have trouble getting from one part of Japan to the other, and you'll end up with some food.
It's a bit expensive though, so bring plenty of money.
Best Hostel - Sakura Hostel, Tokyo.
Highlight - Knacker drinking in Kyoto
Lowpoint - Walking for an hour to get to the Fukuoka Tower
Other cool things - Rockabillies in Harajuku!
Favourite Photo:
One piece of advice - get a rail pass if you want to move outside of Tokyo.
Last Days: Sydney
So, little bloggies, when last we talked I was in the depths of depression, and funnily enough, you'll notice that to a certain degree, I was like that because I was saying goodbyes, and also not getting the chance to say goodbyes. Well, you'd think, after all that, it'd be done - but in a cruel twist of faith I actually got to see 90% of all the other people I really wanted to see but didn't think I would. So basically, I said goodbye, went through it, and then got to do it all again!! How totally fuckin' awesome, right?
It was actually, depressing goodbyes aside, we had great fun. One thing about Australia though is that you should never start the evening late. Waiting til half 8 to meet can be a problem because everywhere that serves food is either closed or closing and won't let you in. We tried about 4 places before we eventually realised it was KFC or nothing.
After that they dragged me kicking and screaming to an Irish bar, which they seem to always be doing, though why I can't quite fathom. It's peculiar. Anyway, this one turned out to be quite decent, and it was in the throes of a karaoke night when we arrived. Like all karaoke nights, there are people there who can sing, people willing to have fun, and people who really can't sing but keep on trying. Also, that one lunatic.
This night was no exception. There was a guy who sang everything from Guns 'n' Roses to Scissor Sisters and sang well and was entertaining. There was another guy who did a great Use Somebody. And there was this girl . . .
This girl who turned up and stood at the back until her friends arrived and then ran onto the stage, practically skipping like a child . . .
This girl who had clearly rehearsed her dances moves . . .
This girl who was clearly our lunatic for the evening . . .
Here she is! [Okay, so that's not her. It's taking two hours to upload a 4 minute video. I'll make you a deal, you come back here and check this when I get home, and I'll upload it then]
Once the night was over though, it really was time to say goodbye, and I won't go into it. If you want to know how I feel about goodbyes, read the last post.
The next day I had plans for the evening so I slept in and then went out to do some shopping in the afternoon. Firstly I bought some really shit souvenirs which I will be bestowing on you guys back home. Trust me, they are shit. You will thank me for them, but you won't mean it, and I'll know it, and you'll know I know it and we'll hug, but really the stuff will still be shit.
Then I had heard about this place that sold comics and graphic novels and went looking for it . . . And I found it, and it was HUGE!!! It had EVERYTHING! Oh could I have spent some money there - well, I did spend some money there, but I could have spent a hell of a lot more money.
I bought -
The Boys: Volume 7 - The Innocents
Buffy Season 8: Volume 7 - Twilight
The Shepherds Tale
and a book called The Scar, by China Mieville.
And then I read the Shepherd's Tale, but the other ones are for when I get home!
While I was heading home I was walking and some called me. Which is weird when you don't think there could be anyone around, but it turned out to be Dave who I met in Bangkok (of Mat and Dave, who did the trek with me), so there was more goodbyes right there! For God's sake!
After that I showered and got ready to head out to Bondi to meet the Irish girls I met in Laos, if you can remember back that far. One of them is even my friend's sister (for the record that's Laura Creegan MA of Ballymote, Sligo, who is somehow allowed to teach children). . . how very Irish, no? This is Amy here. I cannot for the life of me remember who the other two guys are but I'm presuming they're Irish.
Funny story, we were talking about how there seemed to be a bad ratio between guys and girls (which means more guys than girls - by the way, the other way around is what we call a good ratio), when this English fella turned around and goes, "You wanna talk about bad ratio? There are three people in this house who aren't Irish!" That's out of about 50. He wasn't really wrong. Also present was the other Amy. Seen here with the decks.
It was Michelle's birthday, which was why there was a party in the first place. I actually did take some pictures of her, but now that I go looking for them, I've just remembered that I took them with HER camera, no mine, so you'll have to go without unfortunately. Or when she puts them up on Facebook I'll nick them and edit this so it doesn't say I didn't have a picture . . .
Anyway, moving swiftly along, beer!
This was the fridge. Because we are fancy people. Very fancy. I even wore a hat.
Also, because they were allowed to "decorate" the house as they pleased, they drew some scenes from their trip, most notably a huge representation of tubing in the sitting room! Awh, I miss tubing! That's one thing I would totally do again!
I'd say they had a late one, but I left in time to catch the last train, at about 1. Mostly this was due to the exhaustion, but it was also due to the exhaustion and the being totally exhausted from the few days before.
Which was a same but with these guys at least there's a good chance we'll see each other randomly again. And I don't know them all that well either. Most of my stories involving them revolve around almost meeting up with them again!
The next day I got up and checked out of the hostel because I was going to stay with my cousin Aoife who lives out in Bondi for awhile. She was in work til about half five though so I still had the day to kill. First I headed out to Circular Quay to snap some pictures of the bridge and the Opera House but I got better pictures the following day so I'll not put any up just yet.
I also bought some more tacky shit presents for people - sorry guys . . . really, I am. My presents will utterly suck.
Anyway, then after that I headed back in the hostel's direction to meet Chris, who you may remember from Spicy and Laos? This is Chris. And yes, that is literally the worst picture I could have chosen to show you. I regret nothing!
We wandered as far as some market food courtand just chilled there. He was only in town for a few hours while he caught a bus to Melbourne. It would of been nice to grab a few pints but some lunch just had to do. It was good to catch up with him though and talk about all the shit we've been doing. He's good craic and yet another of those goodbyes I didn't want to say but had to anyway.
After that I grabbed my bags from the hostel storage room and headed out to County Bondi to stay with Aoife. Here we are the next day. We'll get to why we appear to be on a boat of some sort in a bit (spoiler: we are on a boat).
That first night we actually ended up doing nothing. Thank fucking God. Seriously. I've never been so glad to hear someone say "I have no plans" in my whole life. I might have died. Instead we went with her friend Ciara to get some food and then we watched Sleepy Hollow with her other flatmates. And then we went to sleep. I'd say I was gone about twenty minutes after the lights went out.
The next day it was time for a tour of the city. First we hit Paddy's market because I needed a bag to put some of my extra stuff in. My day bag isn't really big enough to bring a change of clothes and I want to put on some fresh clothes when I arrive in Frankfurt on Wednesday. You know, because I'll have been travelling for a day already at that point. And because it's going to be soooooo cold there and sooooo warm here that I'll need different clothes.
Well, truth be told, it was actually better because I was actually a bit prepared for it now. So, starting on Thursday 13th in Sydney. I was just chilling in my hostel when my phone went *bleep bleep*, innocently enough, and told me I had a message from Jo. Herself and Fran were going to be in Sydney in a few hours, meetage? Ah crap . . . so yeah, obviously I wanted to see them again, but on the other hand, less than 24 hours before I had already mentally said goodbye to them. So that was gonna be swell!
After that they dragged me kicking and screaming to an Irish bar, which they seem to always be doing, though why I can't quite fathom. It's peculiar. Anyway, this one turned out to be quite decent, and it was in the throes of a karaoke night when we arrived. Like all karaoke nights, there are people there who can sing, people willing to have fun, and people who really can't sing but keep on trying. Also, that one lunatic.
This night was no exception. There was a guy who sang everything from Guns 'n' Roses to Scissor Sisters and sang well and was entertaining. There was another guy who did a great Use Somebody. And there was this girl . . .
This girl who turned up and stood at the back until her friends arrived and then ran onto the stage, practically skipping like a child . . .
This girl who had clearly rehearsed her dances moves . . .
This girl who was clearly our lunatic for the evening . . .
Here she is! [Okay, so that's not her. It's taking two hours to upload a 4 minute video. I'll make you a deal, you come back here and check this when I get home, and I'll upload it then]
Once the night was over though, it really was time to say goodbye, and I won't go into it. If you want to know how I feel about goodbyes, read the last post.
The next day I had plans for the evening so I slept in and then went out to do some shopping in the afternoon. Firstly I bought some really shit souvenirs which I will be bestowing on you guys back home. Trust me, they are shit. You will thank me for them, but you won't mean it, and I'll know it, and you'll know I know it and we'll hug, but really the stuff will still be shit.
Then I had heard about this place that sold comics and graphic novels and went looking for it . . . And I found it, and it was HUGE!!! It had EVERYTHING! Oh could I have spent some money there - well, I did spend some money there, but I could have spent a hell of a lot more money.
I bought -
The Boys: Volume 7 - The Innocents
Buffy Season 8: Volume 7 - Twilight
The Shepherds Tale
and a book called The Scar, by China Mieville.
And then I read the Shepherd's Tale, but the other ones are for when I get home!
While I was heading home I was walking and some called me. Which is weird when you don't think there could be anyone around, but it turned out to be Dave who I met in Bangkok (of Mat and Dave, who did the trek with me), so there was more goodbyes right there! For God's sake!
After that I showered and got ready to head out to Bondi to meet the Irish girls I met in Laos, if you can remember back that far. One of them is even my friend's sister (for the record that's Laura Creegan MA of Ballymote, Sligo, who is somehow allowed to teach children). . . how very Irish, no? This is Amy here. I cannot for the life of me remember who the other two guys are but I'm presuming they're Irish.
Funny story, we were talking about how there seemed to be a bad ratio between guys and girls (which means more guys than girls - by the way, the other way around is what we call a good ratio), when this English fella turned around and goes, "You wanna talk about bad ratio? There are three people in this house who aren't Irish!" That's out of about 50. He wasn't really wrong. Also present was the other Amy. Seen here with the decks.
It was Michelle's birthday, which was why there was a party in the first place. I actually did take some pictures of her, but now that I go looking for them, I've just remembered that I took them with HER camera, no mine, so you'll have to go without unfortunately. Or when she puts them up on Facebook I'll nick them and edit this so it doesn't say I didn't have a picture . . .
Anyway, moving swiftly along, beer!
This was the fridge. Because we are fancy people. Very fancy. I even wore a hat.
Also, because they were allowed to "decorate" the house as they pleased, they drew some scenes from their trip, most notably a huge representation of tubing in the sitting room! Awh, I miss tubing! That's one thing I would totally do again!
I'd say they had a late one, but I left in time to catch the last train, at about 1. Mostly this was due to the exhaustion, but it was also due to the exhaustion and the being totally exhausted from the few days before.
Which was a same but with these guys at least there's a good chance we'll see each other randomly again. And I don't know them all that well either. Most of my stories involving them revolve around almost meeting up with them again!
The next day I got up and checked out of the hostel because I was going to stay with my cousin Aoife who lives out in Bondi for awhile. She was in work til about half five though so I still had the day to kill. First I headed out to Circular Quay to snap some pictures of the bridge and the Opera House but I got better pictures the following day so I'll not put any up just yet.
I also bought some more tacky shit presents for people - sorry guys . . . really, I am. My presents will utterly suck.
Anyway, then after that I headed back in the hostel's direction to meet Chris, who you may remember from Spicy and Laos? This is Chris. And yes, that is literally the worst picture I could have chosen to show you. I regret nothing!
We wandered as far as some market food courtand just chilled there. He was only in town for a few hours while he caught a bus to Melbourne. It would of been nice to grab a few pints but some lunch just had to do. It was good to catch up with him though and talk about all the shit we've been doing. He's good craic and yet another of those goodbyes I didn't want to say but had to anyway.
After that I grabbed my bags from the hostel storage room and headed out to County Bondi to stay with Aoife. Here we are the next day. We'll get to why we appear to be on a boat of some sort in a bit (spoiler: we are on a boat).
That first night we actually ended up doing nothing. Thank fucking God. Seriously. I've never been so glad to hear someone say "I have no plans" in my whole life. I might have died. Instead we went with her friend Ciara to get some food and then we watched Sleepy Hollow with her other flatmates. And then we went to sleep. I'd say I was gone about twenty minutes after the lights went out.
The next day it was time for a tour of the city. First we hit Paddy's market because I needed a bag to put some of my extra stuff in. My day bag isn't really big enough to bring a change of clothes and I want to put on some fresh clothes when I arrive in Frankfurt on Wednesday. You know, because I'll have been travelling for a day already at that point. And because it's going to be soooooo cold there and sooooo warm here that I'll need different clothes.
After I got the bag we went to Darling Harbour which was pretty cool. The thing I really liked though was this random water feature in the middle of some plaza there. I dunno why I liked it, I just did. Then after that we walked all the way to Sydney Harbour Bridge (which wasn't that far) but it was getting hotter and hotter all the time. When we left, we brought hoodies, but by the time we reached the bridge it was boiling hot. We went to the bridge to climb this tower by the way, and from this tower take many pictures.
This is probably my favourite one, even though I still thi nk the opera house looks really small in real life. The nice thing is though, in pictures it looks exactly like it should! After climbing up and down the tower we headed off the Circular Quay to catch a ferry out to Manly Beach, which is about half an hour away and also offers some really great view as your going along. It was damn hot at this stage though and we were sweating buckets.
One of the pictures I took (of many) was a nice of the bridge and if you look to either side you can see one of the towers we climbed. Also, this is why we look like we were on a boat. We were getting a boat. Some time later, the boat arrived in Manly and we went to Coles and made crisp sandwiches and ate them on the beach while watching surfers get smashed by the waves. not a bad way to spend an hour. After that we went to visit Aoife's friend and chilled in her house for a bit before jumping back on the ferry and heading for her neighbours were a few people (clearly all Irish) were having a barbecue and some drinks. It was actually nice to get back to that bit of banter and slagging, because hanging out with the Germans last week (who I do dearly love) you sometimes have to be careful what you say (not that I really was) because sometimes the sarcasm and the joking just doesn't make sense to them. It was good to get some practice in before heading home. Because I'm pretty sure my few months away won't entitle me to some sort of free-pass. If anything, ye've got joking to make up for!
We headed back late enough and I (drunkenly) fixed a laptop for Aoife's friend and then we all went asleep and now it is today. I'm staying in hostel tonight to make sure I get a good sleep, and so I could write this up, and a few other bits and pieces that will follow tomorrow afternoon. By the time ye all get up on Tuesday I should, all going to plan, be on the airplane and heading home and be in by about 12 on Wednesday. Of course there are two things not in my favour - all those Quantus planes that keep falling out of the sky, and the fact that I am leaving from Sydney, which is the same airport that Oceanic 815 - or the plane in Lost to those not crazy enough to remember the numbers of the plane - took off from. So remember, if my plane crashes, I'll be on a gorgeous island full of monsters and madmen and there'll be some sort of magic light, but I read enough random shit like that anyway that I'll probably be quite equiped to deal with it all. So don't worry to much. (Also, if I do die in a plane crash, I'm really sorry I'm being so flippant about it all).
So yay for going home! But also sad, because of the goodbyes, but we've talk about that so we're not going to get into it again.
So, see you real soon, or, if you're still away, hope to see you in the future . . .
Shane
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Roadtrip . . . Auf Deutsch!
Today is a hard day, and not a happy one for me, though it follows many good days. Today is heavy on my shoulders and there is no comfort for it but the knowledge that this will pass, as all things do, and only the memory of the good will remain.
I am reminded of a quote, which now I hear in my head in the words of William Adama, though it is an Emily Dickenson poem originally - it was used in an episode of Battlestar that I have quoted from before.
This, perhaps best, expresses how I feel right now, life something sits upon me, a weight of loss, not horrific or huge, but felt nonetheless in the keenest of ways. Someone, presumably much wiser than I, once wrote that "parting is such sweet sorrow" but that person was a fucking idiot*. Parting has no sweetness, only the sweep of time, and the dull hope that the parting will not last. *Actually, this line is spoken by Juliet (and thus written by Shakespeare) and is generally used out of context, as I have done here - it represents a sweet sorrow for those who know they will be soon reunited (this itself being ironic in the context of Romeo and Juliet) and as such is not quite as inaccurate as I make it seem.
Anyway, let's leave that aside for a few minutes and see how I got here, because really, I've been having such an amazing time, and this is a feeling that will not last, though that doesn't invalidate the feeling.
Having managed to get to Brisbane, despite the infernal interference of the weather Gods (thanks Odin, you're a star) I somehow ended up joining some old friends from Chaing Mai on a roadtrip down the coast. This is something I really wanted to do, if I wasn't travelling on my own. To get a car and just drive, stopping off wherever, sleeping in a tent and by the grace of good friends I got the opportunity, which I really didn't think I would. It's just a pity I bought a fucking 300 dollar Greyhound pass to get to Sydney, which now I'll not be using.
I met up with Josefin and Anne at about eleven in the morning. Do you remember them from previous posts? If not, see Chiang Mai, Pai, Siem Reap and Koh Phangan . . . Their friend Hanna and her friend Eric (both also German) had joined them in the last week or so and were now travelling with them.
This is their car. It's not a bad car, and it's not a nice car. It's nicer than the Ford I had, for instance, but it's no Nissan Almera (or mam's Saab). Like nearly all Australian cars it's an automatic, which makes driving really easy - this makes a huge difference when you're behind the wheel for three hours. And after the three hours someone else is taking over from you.
Finding these guys was actually a bit harder than you'd think. They told me to meet them at St. John's Church on Ann St in Brisbane. I found Ann St pretty easily, but there are FIVE churches on the very long stretch of Ann St. It was also emphatically not the one I was nearest too, because that would have been far too easy.
This, by the by, is everyone. The picture was taken a few days later, but still, it's not like they were different people a few days before. On the left in the front is Hanna, behind her is Anne, across from her then is Eric, and in the right at the front is Josefin. We are all eating dinner. You can see a bit of my bowl at the bottom left if you care too. I really cannot remember what we were eating. But you don't care, so really, that worked out well, didn't it?
I did get there and a little early, but then I left an hour early and was only there about ten minutes before I was supposed to be, but by eleven we were on the road and heading south down the coast. Their general plan was to outdrive the rain, which basically entailed getting the far side of Sydney and making for Melbourne, so I was basically going with them as close to Sydney as they got.
That first day Josefin drove the first leg and I drove the second and we all started to catch up, and insult and abuse each other, because that's what real friends do. Seriously. We drove as far as Byron Bay that day, finding a half-decent camp site about ten minutes outside of Byron. They had spent the previous night sleeping in the car, all four of them, so really, the first thing they wanted to do when we finally parked up was get into the shower and get into some clean clothes. That said, what actually happened was, we got the tents up, we went to the pool and we went for a swim, and THEN we had showers . . . I had one too, even though I'd had one that morning. It just seemed like the thing to do.
After some rest and some dinner we decided to head into town and see some of Byron Bay. I didn't really take too many pictures of Byron, but it's a nice town. Very arty, to the point that borders on the pretensious, but not quite. I'd say it's a nice place to be, but I'd say the effort of being cool and aloof probably gets to you after awhile! The bay itself is beautiful and it's such a pity that it wasn't a nice day, but these will give you a sense of the place I hope.
We got some drinks and some crisps and chocolate in the supermarket and after it was well dark we headed back to the campsite. Everyone, bar me, was extremely exhausted so it was very early to bed that night, but once we we ensconced within our tents, me an Eric in one and the girls in the other, we discovered a problem; there were holes in mine and Eric's tent. Four of them. It would have been fine in decent weather, but the gloomy grey clouds had filled up to bursting and were now pouring down with a vengeance on us. We we in the tent maybe forty-five minutes before the water started to come through, but five minutes later we were aware that our staying in the tent would be literally impossible if the rain didn't stop, which seemed unlikely (spoiler: it didn't) so we decided to exacuate immediately to the car.
It wasn't so bad. As Eric pointed out, the previous night, four people had slept in the same car. Now there was two. We slept in the front seats, winding them back, and too be totally honest, it wasn't that unpleasant in the end. I didn't have the best sleep of my life, but I didn't have the worst either. As I've said, the whole masters thing has given me great tolerance for sleepless nights anyway, so despite only catching a few hours sleep that night, I was still in pretty good shape the next morning when Josefin started knocking on the window.
So we got up, had some coffee and got back on the road. It was raining so there was nothing to stick around for. Eric took the first shift that day, while I took the second. I basically slept through the part of the day too, so I have little or no idea what to tell you. I'm pretty sure nothing interesting happened anyway.
We stopped in a McDonald's in Coff's Harbour (or maybe that was the next day and we stopped in a different town, still in McDonald's) to charge our stuff a little bit and use the free wifi, while we ate as slowly as humanly possible. I reckon they probably see that sorta thing a lot. Eventually though we had to get back into the car and keep on trucking.
Eventually we pulled off the main highway, heading for somewhere around South West Rocks. I'm pretty sure, but not hundred percent, we found a campsite in the Hat Head National Park but it could have been a different place. It was certainly near there anyway. The place we stayed the night before was rustic, but nothing compared to this place. This was pure Glen Maluire, Jonathan would probably have pitched the other kind of tent here. It was awesome. There were a few other campers around, though we didn't talk to a whole lot of them.
We threw up the tents and then walked down onto the beach, about five minutes away. The weather was a bit better here, but not a whole lot, but we really couldn't keep driving that night. It was already getting quite late.
On the beach, we were cheered up immensely though, a) by being on a beach, and b) by being not in a car! We also found this dead, mostly eaten fish, which I assume washed in with the tide and then was picked clean by bugs and birds. It was pretty huge.
I also got some really nice pictures. Here are two of my favourites. I like the first one because of the bird in the middle of it, and the other just coz it looks awesome.
It reminds me of this quote (is there anything at all that doesn't remind me of some quote, you ask? Not really, I reply) from Crisis Core, which most of you won't have heard of, spoken by the lead "villain" Genesis -
"To become the dew that quenches the land
To spare the sands, the seas, the skies
I offer thee this silent sacrifice"
It's a gorgeous few lines, and in the context of Crisis Core is tied up with a hugely emotional set of events, but still, when I look at something like this (not the picture so much as the scene I took the picture of), in the company of friends, you can't help but feel that you understand the notion of being willing to sacrifice for something.
After a walk on the beach, we headed back and unpacked the car, getting ready to set up for dinner. While getting the gas cooker ready, the girls unfortunately discovered that the bottle of gas they had been given at the petrol station in Brisbane didn't match the lead for the cooker . . .
So we had to make a fire. Thankfully, there were lots of little cooking spots around the camping grounds. They were little more that steel grilles built into the ground but it was enough for what we needed. The only problem was the rain and the wet, which made everything damp and we didn't have anything particularly flammable to get the fire going with. One of the other campers gave us a hand, lending us a newspaper and some dry twigs and brush that he'd already managed to scrounge up (he was there a week) so we were very lucky. Once the fire got going it was burning hot and eating through wood in no time, so once the flames died down, we had ourselves something to cook on, yay for food!
At one point, we saw something emerge from a nearby tree, drop to the ground, run over to some unattended apples at another guys campsite, nick one, and then run like hell back up the tree. Using our torch we found one of these little fuckers up in the tree, munching happily on some guy's apple! Way more creepy than the time that sheep wandered into our camp!
After dinner the girls were a bit put off by being still quite tired, wet and the constant irritation of mosquitoes and other insects, so they headed to bed. Me and Eric played a few rounds of Shithead (which is a card game), just to pass the time, and then did the same thing. There was some rain, but we had put the tent up under a tree, so very little water actually got on us and we were able to last the whole night in the tent this time.
The next morning it was still a bit drizzly so packing up with more trouble and the tents had to go away we for awhile, but we could have waited all day for a chance to dry them and not got it, so you do what you gotta do. We headed out for the main road and as we were driving, we came across an Aldi store near Kempsey (I think, this could have happened the day before but I really don't think it did, a lot of time in the car will blur your sense of happenings). We stopped and went in to get some stuff. Josefin was telling me how being in the shop made her feel homesick, which at first I found kinda funny, but then I realised if I was to walk into a Supervalu or Superquinn and see all the stuff from home, and everything exactly like it would be back home, I'd totally feel the same way so I felt a little bad for her. Sometimes the little things get to you more than the big things, little things that really remind you of home. Course, sometimes it's the big things too.
Actually, while we're on the subject of Germans, and Aldi, I'll talk a little about what it's like to travel with four people who speak a different first language to you. Now, you might be thinking, Shane speaks a little German, and yeah, I speak a little German. Anyone remember that rather famous example of me trying to order a burger in German? "Kann ich habe ein cheeseburger with just cheese on it please?" Now, I was pissed drunk at the time, but there ya go. Actually, I could follow some conersations, especially if I knew what the topic of convsation was, but rapid fire German was just a bit above my head. Sometimes they conduct private conversations in German, you know, because they speak German, which is understandable, so often two or three of them might be chatting, and I'd wander over and have no idea why they were pissing themselves laughing at some joke or another. Sometimes serious conversations would happen in German, and someone would end up translating for me. I never took this as excluding me or anything by the way, it just makes sense, they are German, and it's not like they wouldn't talk to me in English or include me in convserations, but every now and then someone might forget and start talking in German and I'm not gonna just stop them and say, "sorry, I know what you're saying really has nothing to do with me at all, but would you mind repeating that in English please?" Actually, we had a running joke where I would pretend that what they were saying was, "Shane is so awesome, isn't he?" And then they would guiltily admit that yes, that was exactly what they were saying.
The other thing is that sometimes, they would argue, in German, and I wouldn't have a clue. Not that they were always fighting or anything and I'm not trying to say anything. A bit of sniping just happens if you're aware with people. Think, me and Steph, who I love, and how much I sometimes have wanted to kill her after too many days at close quarters. Unfortunately, if people are rowing in German, I sometimes have no idea and totally miss it, and rather undiplomatically end up putting my foot in it.
The last thing about is that when you remember that they speak German as a first language, is that English is their second language. And they speak it more or less fluently, maybe better than some people I know. Like, they don't know slang, use some weird turns of phrase (which is probably "proper" English) and sometimes have to search for a word or ask each other, or me, the best word for something. Often, I'd just be like, "I'd just say what you said, but you could use this instead" where there might be a word is fancier (or more condensed) like using "erratic" instead of "all over the place". As in, I would probably be unlikely to say erratic in this context, "Ah, jaysus he was so pissed drunk he was stumbling all over the place." They might not know the word erratic, or some other words, but they can always explain what they want or need me to do, or just hold a conversation. I, on the otherhand, cannot even ask for a fucking cheeseburger in German! Or in Irish. There's something very wrong with the way we learn languages, it's a lot more about beating a standardised test than it is about learning a language.
So anyway, while we were at Aldi (yes, remember that?) we took out the tents and let them dry because it wasn't raining there and after a quick breakfast we headed off with Eric driving us again. We stopped at about three in a place called Newcastle so the girls could go to the bank and sort out some stuff. We figured that they would be about fifteen minutes bout them were more like and hour and a bit, so while they were gone I eventually walked up to the trainstation to see if anyone could tell me if there was a camping place around.
There was one about twenty minutes away, back the way we'd come and then off the road in a different random town called Stockton. It was the biggest campsite we'd stayed on and had lots of space and facilities, including a huge kitchen, shower rooms and toilets and a laundry room, and we could charge our phones, cameras and laptops in the kitchen too. There was a large sorta dining/common area too where we could sit, eat or just do whatever. It was also right on the beach. We had plenty of space and best of all the weather was good.
This here on the left is my tent by the way. It's funny what you'll begin to call home after you're away for long enough.
We got the tents set up pretty smartly and then washed ourselves in the totally awesome showers! Think about that shower you have when you get back from camping for a few days? It was about ten times nicer than that!
Later that night the girls decided they wanted chocolate chip cookies and headed off in the car to find a Coles. To be honest, before they left, I did tell them it was probably gonna be closed because we were out in the sticks a little and there'd be no reason to open late. They went anyway. An hour later, they hadn't gotten back.
When they did eventually get back we found out that I was right (though I kept my mouth shut about it, for once) but that they had found a petrol station with some cookies - which were clearly the world's best cookies ever. Clearly.
I am reminded of a quote, which now I hear in my head in the words of William Adama, though it is an Emily Dickenson poem originally - it was used in an episode of Battlestar that I have quoted from before.
"There is a Languor of the Life
More imminent than Pain -
This, perhaps best, expresses how I feel right now, life something sits upon me, a weight of loss, not horrific or huge, but felt nonetheless in the keenest of ways. Someone, presumably much wiser than I, once wrote that "parting is such sweet sorrow" but that person was a fucking idiot*. Parting has no sweetness, only the sweep of time, and the dull hope that the parting will not last. *Actually, this line is spoken by Juliet (and thus written by Shakespeare) and is generally used out of context, as I have done here - it represents a sweet sorrow for those who know they will be soon reunited (this itself being ironic in the context of Romeo and Juliet) and as such is not quite as inaccurate as I make it seem.
Anyway, let's leave that aside for a few minutes and see how I got here, because really, I've been having such an amazing time, and this is a feeling that will not last, though that doesn't invalidate the feeling.
Having managed to get to Brisbane, despite the infernal interference of the weather Gods (thanks Odin, you're a star) I somehow ended up joining some old friends from Chaing Mai on a roadtrip down the coast. This is something I really wanted to do, if I wasn't travelling on my own. To get a car and just drive, stopping off wherever, sleeping in a tent and by the grace of good friends I got the opportunity, which I really didn't think I would. It's just a pity I bought a fucking 300 dollar Greyhound pass to get to Sydney, which now I'll not be using.
I met up with Josefin and Anne at about eleven in the morning. Do you remember them from previous posts? If not, see Chiang Mai, Pai, Siem Reap and Koh Phangan . . . Their friend Hanna and her friend Eric (both also German) had joined them in the last week or so and were now travelling with them.
This is their car. It's not a bad car, and it's not a nice car. It's nicer than the Ford I had, for instance, but it's no Nissan Almera (or mam's Saab). Like nearly all Australian cars it's an automatic, which makes driving really easy - this makes a huge difference when you're behind the wheel for three hours. And after the three hours someone else is taking over from you.
Finding these guys was actually a bit harder than you'd think. They told me to meet them at St. John's Church on Ann St in Brisbane. I found Ann St pretty easily, but there are FIVE churches on the very long stretch of Ann St. It was also emphatically not the one I was nearest too, because that would have been far too easy.
This, by the by, is everyone. The picture was taken a few days later, but still, it's not like they were different people a few days before. On the left in the front is Hanna, behind her is Anne, across from her then is Eric, and in the right at the front is Josefin. We are all eating dinner. You can see a bit of my bowl at the bottom left if you care too. I really cannot remember what we were eating. But you don't care, so really, that worked out well, didn't it?
I did get there and a little early, but then I left an hour early and was only there about ten minutes before I was supposed to be, but by eleven we were on the road and heading south down the coast. Their general plan was to outdrive the rain, which basically entailed getting the far side of Sydney and making for Melbourne, so I was basically going with them as close to Sydney as they got.
That first day Josefin drove the first leg and I drove the second and we all started to catch up, and insult and abuse each other, because that's what real friends do. Seriously. We drove as far as Byron Bay that day, finding a half-decent camp site about ten minutes outside of Byron. They had spent the previous night sleeping in the car, all four of them, so really, the first thing they wanted to do when we finally parked up was get into the shower and get into some clean clothes. That said, what actually happened was, we got the tents up, we went to the pool and we went for a swim, and THEN we had showers . . . I had one too, even though I'd had one that morning. It just seemed like the thing to do.
After some rest and some dinner we decided to head into town and see some of Byron Bay. I didn't really take too many pictures of Byron, but it's a nice town. Very arty, to the point that borders on the pretensious, but not quite. I'd say it's a nice place to be, but I'd say the effort of being cool and aloof probably gets to you after awhile! The bay itself is beautiful and it's such a pity that it wasn't a nice day, but these will give you a sense of the place I hope.
We got some drinks and some crisps and chocolate in the supermarket and after it was well dark we headed back to the campsite. Everyone, bar me, was extremely exhausted so it was very early to bed that night, but once we we ensconced within our tents, me an Eric in one and the girls in the other, we discovered a problem; there were holes in mine and Eric's tent. Four of them. It would have been fine in decent weather, but the gloomy grey clouds had filled up to bursting and were now pouring down with a vengeance on us. We we in the tent maybe forty-five minutes before the water started to come through, but five minutes later we were aware that our staying in the tent would be literally impossible if the rain didn't stop, which seemed unlikely (spoiler: it didn't) so we decided to exacuate immediately to the car.
It wasn't so bad. As Eric pointed out, the previous night, four people had slept in the same car. Now there was two. We slept in the front seats, winding them back, and too be totally honest, it wasn't that unpleasant in the end. I didn't have the best sleep of my life, but I didn't have the worst either. As I've said, the whole masters thing has given me great tolerance for sleepless nights anyway, so despite only catching a few hours sleep that night, I was still in pretty good shape the next morning when Josefin started knocking on the window.
So we got up, had some coffee and got back on the road. It was raining so there was nothing to stick around for. Eric took the first shift that day, while I took the second. I basically slept through the part of the day too, so I have little or no idea what to tell you. I'm pretty sure nothing interesting happened anyway.
We stopped in a McDonald's in Coff's Harbour (or maybe that was the next day and we stopped in a different town, still in McDonald's) to charge our stuff a little bit and use the free wifi, while we ate as slowly as humanly possible. I reckon they probably see that sorta thing a lot. Eventually though we had to get back into the car and keep on trucking.
Eventually we pulled off the main highway, heading for somewhere around South West Rocks. I'm pretty sure, but not hundred percent, we found a campsite in the Hat Head National Park but it could have been a different place. It was certainly near there anyway. The place we stayed the night before was rustic, but nothing compared to this place. This was pure Glen Maluire, Jonathan would probably have pitched the other kind of tent here. It was awesome. There were a few other campers around, though we didn't talk to a whole lot of them.
We threw up the tents and then walked down onto the beach, about five minutes away. The weather was a bit better here, but not a whole lot, but we really couldn't keep driving that night. It was already getting quite late.
On the beach, we were cheered up immensely though, a) by being on a beach, and b) by being not in a car! We also found this dead, mostly eaten fish, which I assume washed in with the tide and then was picked clean by bugs and birds. It was pretty huge.
I also got some really nice pictures. Here are two of my favourites. I like the first one because of the bird in the middle of it, and the other just coz it looks awesome.
"To become the dew that quenches the land
To spare the sands, the seas, the skies
I offer thee this silent sacrifice"
It's a gorgeous few lines, and in the context of Crisis Core is tied up with a hugely emotional set of events, but still, when I look at something like this (not the picture so much as the scene I took the picture of), in the company of friends, you can't help but feel that you understand the notion of being willing to sacrifice for something.
After a walk on the beach, we headed back and unpacked the car, getting ready to set up for dinner. While getting the gas cooker ready, the girls unfortunately discovered that the bottle of gas they had been given at the petrol station in Brisbane didn't match the lead for the cooker . . .
So we had to make a fire. Thankfully, there were lots of little cooking spots around the camping grounds. They were little more that steel grilles built into the ground but it was enough for what we needed. The only problem was the rain and the wet, which made everything damp and we didn't have anything particularly flammable to get the fire going with. One of the other campers gave us a hand, lending us a newspaper and some dry twigs and brush that he'd already managed to scrounge up (he was there a week) so we were very lucky. Once the fire got going it was burning hot and eating through wood in no time, so once the flames died down, we had ourselves something to cook on, yay for food!
At one point, we saw something emerge from a nearby tree, drop to the ground, run over to some unattended apples at another guys campsite, nick one, and then run like hell back up the tree. Using our torch we found one of these little fuckers up in the tree, munching happily on some guy's apple! Way more creepy than the time that sheep wandered into our camp!
After dinner the girls were a bit put off by being still quite tired, wet and the constant irritation of mosquitoes and other insects, so they headed to bed. Me and Eric played a few rounds of Shithead (which is a card game), just to pass the time, and then did the same thing. There was some rain, but we had put the tent up under a tree, so very little water actually got on us and we were able to last the whole night in the tent this time.
The next morning it was still a bit drizzly so packing up with more trouble and the tents had to go away we for awhile, but we could have waited all day for a chance to dry them and not got it, so you do what you gotta do. We headed out for the main road and as we were driving, we came across an Aldi store near Kempsey (I think, this could have happened the day before but I really don't think it did, a lot of time in the car will blur your sense of happenings). We stopped and went in to get some stuff. Josefin was telling me how being in the shop made her feel homesick, which at first I found kinda funny, but then I realised if I was to walk into a Supervalu or Superquinn and see all the stuff from home, and everything exactly like it would be back home, I'd totally feel the same way so I felt a little bad for her. Sometimes the little things get to you more than the big things, little things that really remind you of home. Course, sometimes it's the big things too.
Actually, while we're on the subject of Germans, and Aldi, I'll talk a little about what it's like to travel with four people who speak a different first language to you. Now, you might be thinking, Shane speaks a little German, and yeah, I speak a little German. Anyone remember that rather famous example of me trying to order a burger in German? "Kann ich habe ein cheeseburger with just cheese on it please?" Now, I was pissed drunk at the time, but there ya go. Actually, I could follow some conersations, especially if I knew what the topic of convsation was, but rapid fire German was just a bit above my head. Sometimes they conduct private conversations in German, you know, because they speak German, which is understandable, so often two or three of them might be chatting, and I'd wander over and have no idea why they were pissing themselves laughing at some joke or another. Sometimes serious conversations would happen in German, and someone would end up translating for me. I never took this as excluding me or anything by the way, it just makes sense, they are German, and it's not like they wouldn't talk to me in English or include me in convserations, but every now and then someone might forget and start talking in German and I'm not gonna just stop them and say, "sorry, I know what you're saying really has nothing to do with me at all, but would you mind repeating that in English please?" Actually, we had a running joke where I would pretend that what they were saying was, "Shane is so awesome, isn't he?" And then they would guiltily admit that yes, that was exactly what they were saying.
The other thing is that sometimes, they would argue, in German, and I wouldn't have a clue. Not that they were always fighting or anything and I'm not trying to say anything. A bit of sniping just happens if you're aware with people. Think, me and Steph, who I love, and how much I sometimes have wanted to kill her after too many days at close quarters. Unfortunately, if people are rowing in German, I sometimes have no idea and totally miss it, and rather undiplomatically end up putting my foot in it.
The last thing about is that when you remember that they speak German as a first language, is that English is their second language. And they speak it more or less fluently, maybe better than some people I know. Like, they don't know slang, use some weird turns of phrase (which is probably "proper" English) and sometimes have to search for a word or ask each other, or me, the best word for something. Often, I'd just be like, "I'd just say what you said, but you could use this instead" where there might be a word is fancier (or more condensed) like using "erratic" instead of "all over the place". As in, I would probably be unlikely to say erratic in this context, "Ah, jaysus he was so pissed drunk he was stumbling all over the place." They might not know the word erratic, or some other words, but they can always explain what they want or need me to do, or just hold a conversation. I, on the otherhand, cannot even ask for a fucking cheeseburger in German! Or in Irish. There's something very wrong with the way we learn languages, it's a lot more about beating a standardised test than it is about learning a language.
So anyway, while we were at Aldi (yes, remember that?) we took out the tents and let them dry because it wasn't raining there and after a quick breakfast we headed off with Eric driving us again. We stopped at about three in a place called Newcastle so the girls could go to the bank and sort out some stuff. We figured that they would be about fifteen minutes bout them were more like and hour and a bit, so while they were gone I eventually walked up to the trainstation to see if anyone could tell me if there was a camping place around.
There was one about twenty minutes away, back the way we'd come and then off the road in a different random town called Stockton. It was the biggest campsite we'd stayed on and had lots of space and facilities, including a huge kitchen, shower rooms and toilets and a laundry room, and we could charge our phones, cameras and laptops in the kitchen too. There was a large sorta dining/common area too where we could sit, eat or just do whatever. It was also right on the beach. We had plenty of space and best of all the weather was good.
This here on the left is my tent by the way. It's funny what you'll begin to call home after you're away for long enough.
We got the tents set up pretty smartly and then washed ourselves in the totally awesome showers! Think about that shower you have when you get back from camping for a few days? It was about ten times nicer than that!
Later that night the girls decided they wanted chocolate chip cookies and headed off in the car to find a Coles. To be honest, before they left, I did tell them it was probably gonna be closed because we were out in the sticks a little and there'd be no reason to open late. They went anyway. An hour later, they hadn't gotten back.
When they did eventually get back we found out that I was right (though I kept my mouth shut about it, for once) but that they had found a petrol station with some cookies - which were clearly the world's best cookies ever. Clearly.
A few of us walked out into the town with cookies and some cokes and sat by the waterfront, watching the ferry crossing over and back from Newcastle. Newcastle and Stockton are very near each other, except for a huge expanse of water, but it wasn't much of a drive around the water so no worries.
And I took some pictures. Clearly. I won't bore you with the details of the conversation, but it was nice to just sit around chatting that night. It had been awhile since the enviroment had been so hospitable and we'd been so awake this late at night.
Eventually we wandered back and hit the hay. They next morning we decided we weren't going anywhere and were staying another day, which was awesome. No one wanted to get back in that car, and we'd found a really nice place so it just made sense to chill out for a day, read our books and just not be in the car.
I went for a swim in the sea that morning, then took a shower and then just sat around reading for ages, listening to loud music and feeling pretty good about stuff. We had something vaguely resembling lunch and then decided to drive back to Newcastle. We had seen this spire thing from across the river, figured it was a church and wanted to see if we were right! We were, though it took us awhile to find the damn thing!
First we found some old military fort that you can assume the English used. I took some pictures but none particularly noteworthy. Eventually we found the church and it was kinda nice but I mean, it's got nothing on any European churches. Just not to the same scale. The red brick was a nice touch though.
Afterwards we stopped by 7/11 for some one dollar coffees, the butcher for some rashers, and then the "bottle shop" or Off-o to you guys for some cider and headed back to the camp. We had some more lazy sitting around for awhile. Actually, the sitting was so lazy that it took Josefin, Anne and Hanna forty-five minutes to even get out of the fucking car. I'm serious. They were in there for ages. Every now and then a leg would slide a little further out of the car and then stop. The conversation was in German, so once again I assume it was about me . . . Why else would they need to talk in German, I ask you!?! :-p
So anyway, eventually we had dinner and played several games of Shithead, while trying to teach it to some Aussie guy who got curious. After watching a round or two he gave up and said, "I'm way to drunk for this shit!" but he'd already learned how to say shithead in German so he was happy.
About eleven they closed up the kitchen/common area so we had to vacate and head back to our tents. It was a really nice way to spend the last night though.
They next morning (ie, this morning) we again packed up our tents, which aren't really my tents anymore, so I should say packed up their tents, had some toast and coffee and got back in the car after much slagging and abuse giving. We even took one last picture.
Then we got back on the road. And got a little bit lost. But eventually got back on the right road and we off in a Sydney direction. The plan was to not actually head into Sydney, but to drop me off in Hornsby at the trainstation. It's far enough outside Sydney that they wouldn't get bogged down for hours dropping me off, but close enough that it's only a few dollars to get the train into town.
Of course, at the time I'm pretty sure I made some stupid jokes about the goodbyes and while they were nice, I don't think I let on to either them or myself what an event this really was. Obviously I only just met Hanna and Eric, but Josefin and Anne are actually the two most familiar faces I know right now. They're the people I've seen the most in the last six months and I've grown quite attached to them. And in other ways, they also stand in for all the others who I just didn't get to have that kinda goodbye with, people who I thought I'd see again and just didn't manage too. This was the first goodbye that I can see stretching out before me. This is the hard goodbye. Even if we stay in touch and even if we see each other again, it will be another six months, or eight or a year, and that goes not just for them, but for all those others too, who I've missed, or just don't have time to catch up with. I'm into my last week, and the goodbyes are finally starting to get serious. Endings are beginning, and suddenly, I find that I am attached to these people, that these lives have meaning for me and that I will miss them.
Though, I suppose there is this. Sarah Lonsdale reminded me of something I wrote in here a few weeks ago the other day, and said it was her favourite quote (which is an honour - although one I chose, yet again, to duck aside by turning it into a joke). I wrote, "Do what you can, do what you will, don’t expect it to be easy, but hope that it will be worthwhile" and today I am faced with some stark realities of that essential truth. Today is not easy, but yet, in the end that means that this has been in some sense worthwhile, doesn't it? If I can feel this twisted up, does that in itself not mean that there was something worthwhile in what I have felt? I suppose I have to hope it does.
But, there is no sweetness in these partings, only the languor of sorrows.
Shane.
Airlie, Mackay, Brisbane - Or "Australia - The Land Of Sunshine, me bollix"!
So there's this myth, right, that it's always sunny in Australia. Well I'm here to bust that myth wide open! Actually, you've probably been reading about the weather, I saw it on the Times website. It's pretty mental. I've actually been quite lucky.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? In the beginning there was the Word and the . . . No, not that beginning!
I left Cairns on Monday 3rd Januart 2011 (can't get used to writing that), with a Greyhound bus ticket and the strong desire to sit on some beaches and top up my already ridiculous tan. That hasn't really happened. When I was buying the bus ticket the lady told me that the road out of Rockhampton was closed because of flooding but would probably be open by around the Wednesday or Thursday.
My uncle and dad dropped me off in Cairns around ten and the bus wasn't til twelve so I got some food and just generally hung about looking suspicious for the rest of the time . . . well, I read a book. A decent book, called Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks. When I first started it I thought it was woeful, but after the first sixty pages or so it becomes a fantastic read. It's about the First World War and manages to convey the absolute idiocy of the conflict in a way that I've never come across before, and still manages to come to some interestingly positive conclusions, while skimping on none of the psychological horrors inflicted on the men who fought in place like the Somme, places that for me, echo with the same horror as Dachau and S21. If anything, the Somme is nearly worse because men we sent to die, not by hatred but by the indifference and stupidity of commanders miles away, with no conception of the waste and wanton cruelty they inflicted on the lives of others.
But I jumped on the bus and I was the bus for most of Monday. Also, I discovered when I got on the bus that Rockhampton would not be open that week. Seven days at least. By the time the next driver got on, he reckoned it would be ten days. As it turned out, it was closer to twelve, but I didn't know at the time. Instead, I had to start looking at other options, options I might have looked at earlier if I'd not been told Rocky would be open in "three or four days" but then the rain has been absolutely crazy so really it isn't anyones fault.
The bus arrived in Airlie beach at about midnight. Also, I keep writing Aerlie, because that's how we'd spell it back home, so if I do it, don't slap me. You can slag away, but no slaps, thank you muchly. After I got off the book I wandered into town, marvelling at the number of pissed Australians stumbling out of, into and around a multitude of pubs all over the place. It was like Kuta all over again! Yay!
No, actually it was a lot nicer than Kuta. Still, I had been on a bus for twelve hours and I just wanted to get to bed. I eventually found my hostel after walking straight past it once and then discovered that the office was locked up. I looked around in a panic but couldn't find anyone and had visions of having to try and find a different hostel when a rather pissed off security guard appeared. Apparently he'd been off dealing with some drunk idiots who wouldn't either shut up or go drink on the beach . . . God, some people are so inconsiderate. Like actually. I can really believe that they wouldn't walk the five minutes to the beach to continue drinking, or just go to a pub, when then were clearly disturbing everyone in the hostel trying to sleep. They'd even been given an extra two hours after the general "quiet" time started.
So eventually I got to a bed, and more or less just went to sleep. I was tired. I'd managed to get unused to buses somewhere in the last month.
The next day I spent the early morning sorting out whatever the hell I was doing next, because I wasn't spending my last weeks sitting on Airlie Beach hoping like hell I'd get to Sydney in time to come home. I ended up booking a flight from Mackay to Brisbane on Friday, which meant I had to go to Mackay on Thursday. Well, I didn't have too, but I didn't want to take the risk that the bus might be late and I'd miss the flight that cost me a hundred and fifty fucking euro.
However, all that done I finally got to set about enjoying some of Airlie, even if the annoyances had given me a whooper headache. I eventually ended up going to bed early that night but it was grand, I still managed to enjoy the afternoon before the crippling pain sent me to the chemist for some tablets in the evening.
The beach has this really nice entrance. One of the things I like about Airlie is that because it's a pretty popular place its spent some money on keeping itself clean and modern and nice-looking. Mission Beach I found to be a fairly run down area, except for Castaways, but Aerlie doesn't suffer the same. Nearly everywhere is fresh. Even the entrance to the beach is nice. See? They've also built a little lagoon, which is basically a huge outdoor swimming pool. There were loads of people around, sunning themselves, tanning or just chilling with their friends. I brought my book out and had a read, listened to some aggressive music that really didn't gel with the enviroment at all. Which is mostly why I was listening to it.
One thing about Australian beaches is that they're not actually always that safe. You really don't have to worry about shark attacks too much. They're not that common, but there are plenty of other things that'll kill you. If you see a sign like this for instance, you're probably better off not swimming. Unless there's a net, and a lifeguard, and some other people already swimming.
It basically warn you off the different types of jellyfish in the area. One will hurt you a hell of a lot. The other will kill you. There's even a bit of the sign that says, "If in doubt, panic!" Okay, that's not quite true, but it is serious. You've to call an ambulance and hope to hell you get to the hospital in time and hope even harder that it was the other type of jellyfish. Even if you survive, the pain is apparently crippling and can go on for days.
So, be careful where you decide to swim. Seriously. And if yo get stung, use the bottles of vinegar located on the beach, normally at these signs, and then ring a bloody ambulance. Saying, "Ah, it'll be grand" does not work in Australia. Further down the coast you don't have these problems of course, and you only have to worry about these things for a few months a year, but at the same time, it's not really funny if you end up dead. Trust me, your ma will bait ya round the head for it.
But, all that said, it's still a lovely beach. And a really nice place to sit and read and just relax.
Day two was a little (but not much) more productive. I got up, had a swim in the hostel pool, and then sat out and read my book, again. Also spent some time working on some blogs later on in the afternoon when it got really hot and I needed a break from the sun. McDonald's lured me in with their stupid free wifi, even though I was like, I'll just sit outside and use the net, they won't mind. I eventually decided some chips sounded good, and by the time I left the counter I had chips, a burger and chicken nuggets. I have no idea how it even happened.
Back in the hostel I met my two new room mates who had just come back from trying to get past Rockhampton and were now doing like me and looking for flights to Brisbane or beyond in the hopes that they'd be able to get their holiday back on track.
I'd a burger and a lovely cold pint of cider for dinner and then got to bed, read some more and slept.
The following morning, Thursday, I headed out to grab my bus and I could see the clouds moving in. By the time the bus was pulling out of Airlie, the rain was pumping down. We left the worst of it behind for awhile, so it was just gloomy when I got to Mackay. The hostel was booked up (lots of people doing what I was doing) but I managed to find a decent private room for alright money for the night and ended up having a big bed and a room with cable TV to myself that night. I'd dinner in a chinese restaurant. The owner of the place told me it was his favourite and I reckon there just couldn't have been a better place because the food was great.
I was lucky here too. The rain had moved in the afternoon, but not until after I'd found my place to stay, and then I waited it out, got out to have dinner and made it back just before it started bucketing down again. Go me!
For some reason I stayed up til about two playing Kingdom Hearts on my PSP but I had a half-decent sleep all the same before I had to check out and catch a tai to the airport. It was fairly sunny that morning, but the rain moved in as the afternoon approached and the flight from Brisbane was delayed an hour. By the time we made it only the plane it was bucketing down. The flight itself was rocked by turbulence for most of the way and when we arrived in Brisbane we heard that Mackay airport had been closed due to the storm.
In Brisbane it was drizzling but nothing too serious. Caught a train to the city and found my hostel. There was an Irish couple in my room and a Canadia girl, two Dutch girls and some guy who never moved from his bed, just watched youtube videos of some Asian thing with the volume up full. I don't think we liked him.
I sent a few txts while I was here, to people I thought might be in the area. Some, unfortunately, we still stuck the wrong side of Rockhampton and others, it turned out were in Brisbane, but leaving in the morning . . . so, the question became, did I want to see Brisbane or roadtrip down the coast . . . ? Well, I'll be honest with you, Brisbane looked lovely and all, but friends, roadtrip, better weather in the south, roadtrip . . .
I said, yeah, guys I'm, going with ye! So following my tough day of sitting around doing f-all I got myself some dinner, some sleep and didn't even bother unpacking a thing from my bag, other than fresh clothes for the morning.
And since it appears that Brisbane is about to be flooded, I may have made the right choice after all!
And you can read about it next time on Shane's Epic Adventures in the Land of Not-Very-Much-Sun-At-All-But-We've-So-Much-Water-That-We'll-Charge-You-Four-Dollars-For-A-Small-Bottle - I'm not sure anybody actually calls Australia that, but they should.
Talk to you soon,
Shane.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we? In the beginning there was the Word and the . . . No, not that beginning!
I left Cairns on Monday 3rd Januart 2011 (can't get used to writing that), with a Greyhound bus ticket and the strong desire to sit on some beaches and top up my already ridiculous tan. That hasn't really happened. When I was buying the bus ticket the lady told me that the road out of Rockhampton was closed because of flooding but would probably be open by around the Wednesday or Thursday.
My uncle and dad dropped me off in Cairns around ten and the bus wasn't til twelve so I got some food and just generally hung about looking suspicious for the rest of the time . . . well, I read a book. A decent book, called Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks. When I first started it I thought it was woeful, but after the first sixty pages or so it becomes a fantastic read. It's about the First World War and manages to convey the absolute idiocy of the conflict in a way that I've never come across before, and still manages to come to some interestingly positive conclusions, while skimping on none of the psychological horrors inflicted on the men who fought in place like the Somme, places that for me, echo with the same horror as Dachau and S21. If anything, the Somme is nearly worse because men we sent to die, not by hatred but by the indifference and stupidity of commanders miles away, with no conception of the waste and wanton cruelty they inflicted on the lives of others.
But I jumped on the bus and I was the bus for most of Monday. Also, I discovered when I got on the bus that Rockhampton would not be open that week. Seven days at least. By the time the next driver got on, he reckoned it would be ten days. As it turned out, it was closer to twelve, but I didn't know at the time. Instead, I had to start looking at other options, options I might have looked at earlier if I'd not been told Rocky would be open in "three or four days" but then the rain has been absolutely crazy so really it isn't anyones fault.
The bus arrived in Airlie beach at about midnight. Also, I keep writing Aerlie, because that's how we'd spell it back home, so if I do it, don't slap me. You can slag away, but no slaps, thank you muchly. After I got off the book I wandered into town, marvelling at the number of pissed Australians stumbling out of, into and around a multitude of pubs all over the place. It was like Kuta all over again! Yay!
No, actually it was a lot nicer than Kuta. Still, I had been on a bus for twelve hours and I just wanted to get to bed. I eventually found my hostel after walking straight past it once and then discovered that the office was locked up. I looked around in a panic but couldn't find anyone and had visions of having to try and find a different hostel when a rather pissed off security guard appeared. Apparently he'd been off dealing with some drunk idiots who wouldn't either shut up or go drink on the beach . . . God, some people are so inconsiderate. Like actually. I can really believe that they wouldn't walk the five minutes to the beach to continue drinking, or just go to a pub, when then were clearly disturbing everyone in the hostel trying to sleep. They'd even been given an extra two hours after the general "quiet" time started.
So eventually I got to a bed, and more or less just went to sleep. I was tired. I'd managed to get unused to buses somewhere in the last month.
The next day I spent the early morning sorting out whatever the hell I was doing next, because I wasn't spending my last weeks sitting on Airlie Beach hoping like hell I'd get to Sydney in time to come home. I ended up booking a flight from Mackay to Brisbane on Friday, which meant I had to go to Mackay on Thursday. Well, I didn't have too, but I didn't want to take the risk that the bus might be late and I'd miss the flight that cost me a hundred and fifty fucking euro.
However, all that done I finally got to set about enjoying some of Airlie, even if the annoyances had given me a whooper headache. I eventually ended up going to bed early that night but it was grand, I still managed to enjoy the afternoon before the crippling pain sent me to the chemist for some tablets in the evening.
The beach has this really nice entrance. One of the things I like about Airlie is that because it's a pretty popular place its spent some money on keeping itself clean and modern and nice-looking. Mission Beach I found to be a fairly run down area, except for Castaways, but Aerlie doesn't suffer the same. Nearly everywhere is fresh. Even the entrance to the beach is nice. See? They've also built a little lagoon, which is basically a huge outdoor swimming pool. There were loads of people around, sunning themselves, tanning or just chilling with their friends. I brought my book out and had a read, listened to some aggressive music that really didn't gel with the enviroment at all. Which is mostly why I was listening to it.
One thing about Australian beaches is that they're not actually always that safe. You really don't have to worry about shark attacks too much. They're not that common, but there are plenty of other things that'll kill you. If you see a sign like this for instance, you're probably better off not swimming. Unless there's a net, and a lifeguard, and some other people already swimming.
It basically warn you off the different types of jellyfish in the area. One will hurt you a hell of a lot. The other will kill you. There's even a bit of the sign that says, "If in doubt, panic!" Okay, that's not quite true, but it is serious. You've to call an ambulance and hope to hell you get to the hospital in time and hope even harder that it was the other type of jellyfish. Even if you survive, the pain is apparently crippling and can go on for days.
So, be careful where you decide to swim. Seriously. And if yo get stung, use the bottles of vinegar located on the beach, normally at these signs, and then ring a bloody ambulance. Saying, "Ah, it'll be grand" does not work in Australia. Further down the coast you don't have these problems of course, and you only have to worry about these things for a few months a year, but at the same time, it's not really funny if you end up dead. Trust me, your ma will bait ya round the head for it.
But, all that said, it's still a lovely beach. And a really nice place to sit and read and just relax.
Day two was a little (but not much) more productive. I got up, had a swim in the hostel pool, and then sat out and read my book, again. Also spent some time working on some blogs later on in the afternoon when it got really hot and I needed a break from the sun. McDonald's lured me in with their stupid free wifi, even though I was like, I'll just sit outside and use the net, they won't mind. I eventually decided some chips sounded good, and by the time I left the counter I had chips, a burger and chicken nuggets. I have no idea how it even happened.
Back in the hostel I met my two new room mates who had just come back from trying to get past Rockhampton and were now doing like me and looking for flights to Brisbane or beyond in the hopes that they'd be able to get their holiday back on track.
I'd a burger and a lovely cold pint of cider for dinner and then got to bed, read some more and slept.
The following morning, Thursday, I headed out to grab my bus and I could see the clouds moving in. By the time the bus was pulling out of Airlie, the rain was pumping down. We left the worst of it behind for awhile, so it was just gloomy when I got to Mackay. The hostel was booked up (lots of people doing what I was doing) but I managed to find a decent private room for alright money for the night and ended up having a big bed and a room with cable TV to myself that night. I'd dinner in a chinese restaurant. The owner of the place told me it was his favourite and I reckon there just couldn't have been a better place because the food was great.
I was lucky here too. The rain had moved in the afternoon, but not until after I'd found my place to stay, and then I waited it out, got out to have dinner and made it back just before it started bucketing down again. Go me!
For some reason I stayed up til about two playing Kingdom Hearts on my PSP but I had a half-decent sleep all the same before I had to check out and catch a tai to the airport. It was fairly sunny that morning, but the rain moved in as the afternoon approached and the flight from Brisbane was delayed an hour. By the time we made it only the plane it was bucketing down. The flight itself was rocked by turbulence for most of the way and when we arrived in Brisbane we heard that Mackay airport had been closed due to the storm.
In Brisbane it was drizzling but nothing too serious. Caught a train to the city and found my hostel. There was an Irish couple in my room and a Canadia girl, two Dutch girls and some guy who never moved from his bed, just watched youtube videos of some Asian thing with the volume up full. I don't think we liked him.
I sent a few txts while I was here, to people I thought might be in the area. Some, unfortunately, we still stuck the wrong side of Rockhampton and others, it turned out were in Brisbane, but leaving in the morning . . . so, the question became, did I want to see Brisbane or roadtrip down the coast . . . ? Well, I'll be honest with you, Brisbane looked lovely and all, but friends, roadtrip, better weather in the south, roadtrip . . .
I said, yeah, guys I'm, going with ye! So following my tough day of sitting around doing f-all I got myself some dinner, some sleep and didn't even bother unpacking a thing from my bag, other than fresh clothes for the morning.
And since it appears that Brisbane is about to be flooded, I may have made the right choice after all!
And you can read about it next time on Shane's Epic Adventures in the Land of Not-Very-Much-Sun-At-All-But-We've-So-Much-Water-That-We'll-Charge-You-Four-Dollars-For-A-Small-Bottle - I'm not sure anybody actually calls Australia that, but they should.
Talk to you soon,
Shane.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
The Dying of a Year
The year of our Lord two thousand and ten bleeds out its final hours and becomes now, the year two thousand and eleven . . .
Here and now it seems the time has come to say good bye to 2010 and to meditate a moment on all that it brought! Well, you have a record of a huge portion of it here on this blog, so really I'll just talk mostly about some of the other things.
One of the highlights had to be finishing up my masters, and all the really cool people I met while doing it! Some of whom it appears I am still in contact with. One of the lowlights was essays, all but one of which were done in 2010. One was due in December 09, but everything else was '10. It was rough, though great training for long journeys on this little adventure of mine.
Another lowlight was that pesky kidney stone that surfaced around the end of December and killed me until about mid-February. Though, Lisa the needle-bearing blood-sucker (she took about 15 blood samples while I was there) did cheer me up a few times.
I managed to not crash my car or be crashed into in 2010, and the same cannot be said for 2008 or 2009 unfortunately. Though, at least the 2009 one was in no way my fault.
Lost ended and we finally have avague idea about what the fuck was going on there. Oh, wait, no, not so much. But it ended, and the good guys won, so it's okay. And not everyone died in the plane crash.
I quit my job too! Which was a very good decision because I'm half way round the world having a ball now!
So thanks 2010, you've been a pleasure - 2011, you've got a lot to live up to and you've not gotten off to a great start. Flooding and all that sorta thing, really, it isn't conducive to me liking you. Let's try and do better shall we . . . ?
However, if there are some perks to 2011, it won't be long now and I'll be seeing you all again. Which is so weird I can't even begin to describe it. Looking forward to many drunken nights in the next few weeks/months!
Talk soon,
Shane.
Here and now it seems the time has come to say good bye to 2010 and to meditate a moment on all that it brought! Well, you have a record of a huge portion of it here on this blog, so really I'll just talk mostly about some of the other things.
One of the highlights had to be finishing up my masters, and all the really cool people I met while doing it! Some of whom it appears I am still in contact with. One of the lowlights was essays, all but one of which were done in 2010. One was due in December 09, but everything else was '10. It was rough, though great training for long journeys on this little adventure of mine.
Another lowlight was that pesky kidney stone that surfaced around the end of December and killed me until about mid-February. Though, Lisa the needle-bearing blood-sucker (she took about 15 blood samples while I was there) did cheer me up a few times.
I managed to not crash my car or be crashed into in 2010, and the same cannot be said for 2008 or 2009 unfortunately. Though, at least the 2009 one was in no way my fault.
Lost ended and we finally have avague idea about what the fuck was going on there. Oh, wait, no, not so much. But it ended, and the good guys won, so it's okay. And not everyone died in the plane crash.
I quit my job too! Which was a very good decision because I'm half way round the world having a ball now!
So thanks 2010, you've been a pleasure - 2011, you've got a lot to live up to and you've not gotten off to a great start. Flooding and all that sorta thing, really, it isn't conducive to me liking you. Let's try and do better shall we . . . ?
However, if there are some perks to 2011, it won't be long now and I'll be seeing you all again. Which is so weird I can't even begin to describe it. Looking forward to many drunken nights in the next few weeks/months!
Talk soon,
Shane.
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