Monday, January 17, 2011

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?

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!

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.

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.

"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.






















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.

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.

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.

It's Christmas Jim, but not as we know it!

Let me be frank, the above title is mostly just an excuse to post a link to this video . . . but it's also scarily accurate. Christmas in Australia is a different beast altogether! At first it was quite hard to put my finger on it, but I think I'm starting to figure it all out. I mean, obstentsibly, they do the whole Christmas thing, but really, they don't. It's all very different.

First of all there's the food. You can't eat roast turkey and ham in 38 degree heat. Most Australians go for seafood. Similarly, rather than being huddled round the fire, they're swimming in the sea, or the pool, going surfing, doing lots of things that we would probably do if we got half the chance.

Then there's the trees. We have never had a plastic Christmas tree in my house, and if I have my way, we never will. I know they're expensive, I know they shed all over the floor, I know it's annoying to have to go get one every year - but I also don't care. At all. In Australia, they're a bit more practical - they get plastic trees.

This our tree and as you can see, it is not only made of plastic, but also is rather diminutive. It's a token I suppose, erected with minimal fuss and then quietly surrounded by presents. Most of these are for Sandra's two kids. I'm not sure about in your house, but in mine, putting up the tree is an EVENT and can go on for an entire weekend. It involves, not just putting up the tree, but also retrieving the boxes of decorations from the attic, cleaning the living room, finding a tree, arguing over the height of the tree, finally needing to saw off a bit of the top because the tree was too big, then decorating it, unwinding all the lights, while swearing you'll do this before putting them away next year, and then putting up all the household decorations too. When I call it an event, I really do mean that. And there's a huge sense of begrudged achievement that goes with it too. When it's done, you can switch on all the lights, sink into the couch and think - yeah - it's Christmas.

Though, to be totally fair, and honest, I get the decorations from the attic, sometimes go for the tree, get it into the stand and leave Megs and my mam to kill each other. When I return eight or nine hours later the tree is generally up.

Believe me though, you don't really want three people trying to put up a Christmas tree. Not in a house with knives or blunt instruments, or engaged in tasks suck as holding ladders.

It's not like no one makes an effort, there are a few. I saw two houses with out door decorations. There were probably a few more scattered around the place. But even the idea of over-the-top outdoor decorations is subdued over here. People passed comment on this house down below. No would even mention it if it was at home. This of some of those houses you see in the papers back home that look like they've been painted neon with frolicing Santas!



Even the Cairns city tree is sadly lacking. It's not like it's a poor city - they couldn't be with what they charge for stuff! But the tree still suffers a sad lack. The regular, everyday palm trees tower well above it and t's lights are lost in the pulse of the esplanade's bars and restaurants.

Somethings I also noticed was that the charities operating Christmas drives, like the people wrapping presents in the various shopping centres, seemed to expect a lot less money. Most work off a "gold coin" basis, as in one dollar for wrapping up a present.

At both of the ones I used I was offered change for the money I gave them, and when I said no they seemed to think I was a little odd. "It's for charity," I tried to explain to one of them.

I suppose in the run up to Christmas, I only had one really Christmasy moment. Driving home from Mission beach in the rain, the radio, which had been playing complete shit up until then, played a request for a listener . . . and it really did start to feel a little bit like Christmas right there!

On Christmas morning, I even had my stocking, which my mam sent over, stuffed with books and King crisps, because she is awesome! I ate one of the packets of Crisps and then saved the other one for a later occasion when I might actually be hungry.

However, I did miss being woken up RIDICULOUSLY early by Megan, who still seems to think it's a decent idea to get up at 7AM on Christmas, despite the fact that the other 364 days of the year, twelve is a much more realistic time to wake up at. Instead I just sauntered out of the room when I felt like it and opened my presents.

That said, there were a few people around that day who really did appreciate the whole thing, like this young man here, who is handing out presents from our Kris Kindle. Sari got herself a Wii so that was also a source of much amusement. Little Xavier got a few decent presents aswell, including a T-Rex toy that roared and had a real biting action! After an hour and a half of this thing roaring, Shane found the off switch. Xavier, being four, not a retard, just switched it back on and continued to assail us with, what I am sure, is the present we got him. Go us! We're clever!

Now, back to the food. Because food really is at the heart of every Christmas. Because we were stubborn, we had already decided to go with turkey and ham for dinner, and also some seafood. We cooked the turkeys the day before though, and ate them cold on Christmas. Sandra brought the ham, which was, again, cold, and Colleen Holmes brought the Christmas pudding! There were also prawns and some weird thing everyone kept calling a bug, which was kinda like lobster.


And this was all served up with bottles of Cider, because I can get that again. Yay!

One of the things that really struck me was when Dylan and Paul Holmes had to head off to work, on Christmas day. I think it was the lack of fuss, the normality of it, that really weirded me out. At home, you'd be every sympathetic to someone working on Christmas, and they'd be pissed off too, but it was just regular, which for me exemplifies the difference between Christmas here and Christmas back home - it really is just another day here.

St. Stephen's Day - named, by the way, for St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr who was basically murdered for suggesting that Jewish officials should maybe stop killing everyone who thought they sucked at being priests, which is a tad ironic really - was also radically different. Instead of being in my Granny's house with most of my extended family, if not all of them, I was just in the pub of an afternoon, listening to Gibb Todd (see uncle's birthday post). It was good, and we had a laugh, but St. Stephen's day it was not.

It's not like I had a shit Christmas though, it's more like Christmas didn't happen. There were a few signposts for it, but we missed the turn somewhere. It's grand though, to be honest. I don't think it was ever going to really be Christmas over here. It was two grand days all the same though, so I don't feel cheated. It just woulda been nice to sit by the fire watching TV for a few hours! Possibly watching some kind of deliriously happy Disney flick. Now that's what I can call Christmas!

Laters,
Shane

"Let's see some fucking nature!"

18th December 2010 - Kuranda


Early on Saturday 18th we got up to go visit Kuranda, via the Scenic Railway and the Sky Rail . . . And since I know you're bad bloggies (that's my new name for you guys) I'll just assume you didn't read those wiki pages and I'll explain all those things to you.

We drove out to Redlynch, me driving one car and my uncle Paddy driving the other. Red Lynch is named after an Irish man who played a huge part in the construction of the railway in the 1880s. Thousands of Irish workers were employed in the construction of the railway which runs up into the Atherton tablelands and had to cut through forest and mountain to reach its destination, and offers so great fews of the rainforest and of Cairns from high up on the mountains.

You take the train/skyrail for the view, not convienence, you can drive there in about half the time the train takes, but the view is awesome from the train, and it's an experience. And, as my title may suggest, we're going to see some nature! So off we go then, shall we . . .

It was bloody hot on the train, even with all the windows open and while we enjoyed the view, I think we enjoyed getting off slightly more. It also didn't help that the train broke down once, or "stopped for operational reasons" as the announcer put it . . .

There was also the one scheduled stop, just over the Barron Gorge, where I got some half decent pictures.

Unfortunately it hadn't rained in awhile so the river is pretty low here (in a great irony, some time later, half the fucking country is underwater and I'm stuck in this part of Queensland until the flooding dies down).

There were plenty of other awesome photo opportunities but I won't post them all, don't worry. There's this one here of a waterfall and that's it for now.

We got off the train at the gorge and following a fifteen minute stop for photos and fresh boiling hot air, it was back into the even hotter train and onward to Kuranda, where we were tee shirt shopping, because there isn't a whole let else to do in the village. It's just a village.

I bought three tee shirts with various funny slogans but I'll keep them to myself - you can see me wearing them when I get home! Oh what a delightful treat that shall be! Aren't you just dying to see them?

We also bought some little doughballs covered in sugar from a very strange dutch man with a stall.

We finished up in the local "Irish" bar, which was the only bar as far as we could see and the non-drivers had a pint before we moved on to the Sky Rail for our way down.

The Sky Rail is a cable car that goes over the rainforest and back into Cairns, if the picture above didn't give that away. Space is limited so me, my dad and my uncle Fran took on car an the others got another. As it turns out, Fran *really* doesn't like heights. At first we thought he was messing, but actually, he was totally freaked out the entire time we were on the things.

Actually the thing was quite safe and comfortable and the view was just amazing! And I have the videos/pictures to prove it!


That's the Barron river again, coming out of the Barron Falls we mentioned earlier.

Anyway, bout half way up you stop and get off, go for a little walk round the rainforest. It's really cool in there, and there are guides who can give you a bit of a tour if you want. There's loads to see though it only takes about ten minutes to walk the short trail.

Then it's back on and after a minute or two we crest the top of the mountain range and start descending towards Cairns. Once you clear the trees, the view changes completely from endless forest to a huge open expanse, right out to the sea. You can see all of Cairns and it's surrounds and we could even pick out my uncle's beach and approximate street as we went down.








And as you come in for your landing, they insist on taking your photograph and then trying to sell it to you later on.

Actually, we were already in the station when this was taken, and the background is superimposed on the image. We bought one digital copy, which comes with a print out, so now I can make as many copies as I want! Yay!

So that was the very impressive Kuranda, next (over a week later) we headed out to Mossman Gorge but to be fair, it doesn't deserve it's own post so it's getting slapped in here. Oh the joys of being so very behind on my blog! Ah well, blame the shitty Australian internet, it takes so fucking long to upload videos and pictures!

28th December 2010 - Mossman Gorge

Two hours north of Cairns, not far past Port Douglas, there's a huge gorge, falled Mossman Gorge, because it's near the town of Mossman. One morning we elected to drive up here and have a little look at some nature, yet again. In case you were wondering, the titular quote of this post belongs too Kevin, the young American from Chaing Mai, who kept on telling us all how much he wanted to see some fucking nature!

It's in the Daintree Rainforest, which actually is probably the same rainforest as Kuranda and the one where I went rafting down in Tully.

Anyway, huge big gorge, lots of water, but unfortunately I didn't bring either contact lenses or swimming stuff, so I couldn't swim. But it was still pretty cool to see. It's pretty hard to explain the scale because it all becomes pretty meaningless. It's like this right, you could totally die here if something went wrong in the water. See the man in the picture. He's small. The river is big, not far away.








After that we went back to Port Douglas and went up to the view point but because it was raining a misty the view wasn't at all great of Four Mile beach. There was this cool dial though, which shows you in which direction everything is from that spot. How it's helpful I have no idea, but silence - I'll have no neigh-sayers amongst my bloggies!

So eventually we piled back in the car and headed off back home, along a twisting and turning road that should really consider lowering it's speed limit!

So that's nature dudes, hope you enjoyed another random ramble from Shane . . . see you next time (or in about as long as it takes you to scroll to the next blog, if that's what you're planning on doing) . . .

Shane.