Monday, November 26, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
A Day in the Life
For the last two weeks, Pete and I have been WWOOFing in New Zealand. It’s basically the same thing that we were doing in Hawaii, but we’re working more hours, and getting both food and housing in exchange.
There are over 800 “farms” listed in the WWOOF (willing workers on organic farms) book, but most of them are what are known as “lifestyle blocks,” which is basically an eco-friendly home with a veggie garden, some chickens (“chooks”), and a yard full of recently planted native trees. It’s great that these lifestyle blocks exist, but less great when they’re masquerading as farms and you end up weeding someone’s carrots and beans for a week while they’re at work. This is what happened to us with our first host.
We spent a week in McQueen’s Valley, near Tai Tapu (Little River), confronting the gorse problem. When we arrived on this homestead-in-progress, we quickly learned what gorse was—a native plant with innocent-looking yellow flowers, and thousands of hairlike spikes, just waiting to implant themselves in your unsuspecting fingertips. The plant can grow as large as ten feet tall, from what we encountered, and once it flowers, spreads millions of tiny seeds per square foot of soil.
Chores weren’t limited to gorse-cutting, we also weeded the veggie garden, built a sheep paddock, and watched their three-year-old son, John. It was an interesting introduction to WWOOFing in New Zealand, and we were becoming skeptical, but we’d already made plans to stay at another farm/lifestyle block, called Blue Gums, where we are now.
Blue Gums is another place on the Banks Peninsula, located in the tiny “town” of Purau, a 30-minute hike and ten-minute ferry ride to the nearest proper town, Lyttleton. Here’s what life on the farm is like:
7:30 a.m.: Wake up to the sun as it rises over the mountains that surround us. The sound of sheep, birds, and cows is already peaking. I get up to make tea and get ready for the day. Maika and Gunther, the older German couple who are our hosts, don’t seem to care what time we start working, so we have a leisurely morning, reading, sipping tea, and maybe sitting on our porch enjoying the mountain views. We’re in a beautiful cabin at the top of a small mountain, a half-mile up the steep driveway from our hosts’ house.
9:00 a.m.: We walk down the driveway and have breakfast at our hosts’ house, usually homemade granola or some treat that Maika has baked. Since they work during the week, we help ourselves.
9:30. a.m.: Grab our tools and start working. Most of the work here consists of reforesting steep hills with native trees. New Zealand has been overrun with non-native pine forests, and where there are no pines, you’ll often find eroding hills. The hill above our cabin is one of the areas that we’re working on reforesting. So far we’ve planted over 130 trees on it.
11:00 a.m.: Tea time! New Zealanders love to drink tea, given that most of them are ex-pats from Europe (often from England and Scotland, given that most of New Zealand was “settled” by the British). Usually Peter and I skip this tea time and just have a cuppa after lunch instead.
1:00 p.m.: After a morning of planting in the sun (the temperature is getting well into the 70s during the day), we’ve worked up an appetite. If lunch isn’t leftover dinner, Peter likes to have eggs. With eight hens laying, they are always in abundance and very fresh.
1:45 p.m.: Back to work. Yesterday we put together a bunch of wooden frames that will go into the bee hives that we’d harvested honey from the night before. Four frames produced over 14 pounds of honey—and with all of the tea drinking around here they need it. They chose to harvest the honey since they’d run out, but usually there are 12-15 frames, so you could imagine how much honey they get.
4:00 p.m.: The day is done. This could mean more tea, or just some relaxing on the porch with a book until dinner. I prefer the latter.
7:00 p.m.: Dinner around here, at least on the weekends, is a collective effort. Last Friday night we made a bunch of pizzas in the outdoor clay pizza oven, which was really cool. All of the neighbors (who also have WWOOFers) came and we each designed our own pizza, and then cooked it in the oven, which took less than five minutes per pizza. The food is vegetarian and usually contains something that’s been grown on the property.
9:00 p.m.: If you’re a hardcore tea-lover, you’ll drink more tea after dinner. It’s kind of comical how much tea is consumed in a day. If you’re tired and want to sneak back to your cabin on the hill, then now’s the time.
We’ve just agreed to stay another week. I think we’d be crazy not to.
There are over 800 “farms” listed in the WWOOF (willing workers on organic farms) book, but most of them are what are known as “lifestyle blocks,” which is basically an eco-friendly home with a veggie garden, some chickens (“chooks”), and a yard full of recently planted native trees. It’s great that these lifestyle blocks exist, but less great when they’re masquerading as farms and you end up weeding someone’s carrots and beans for a week while they’re at work. This is what happened to us with our first host.
We spent a week in McQueen’s Valley, near Tai Tapu (Little River), confronting the gorse problem. When we arrived on this homestead-in-progress, we quickly learned what gorse was—a native plant with innocent-looking yellow flowers, and thousands of hairlike spikes, just waiting to implant themselves in your unsuspecting fingertips. The plant can grow as large as ten feet tall, from what we encountered, and once it flowers, spreads millions of tiny seeds per square foot of soil.
Chores weren’t limited to gorse-cutting, we also weeded the veggie garden, built a sheep paddock, and watched their three-year-old son, John. It was an interesting introduction to WWOOFing in New Zealand, and we were becoming skeptical, but we’d already made plans to stay at another farm/lifestyle block, called Blue Gums, where we are now.
Blue Gums is another place on the Banks Peninsula, located in the tiny “town” of Purau, a 30-minute hike and ten-minute ferry ride to the nearest proper town, Lyttleton. Here’s what life on the farm is like:
7:30 a.m.: Wake up to the sun as it rises over the mountains that surround us. The sound of sheep, birds, and cows is already peaking. I get up to make tea and get ready for the day. Maika and Gunther, the older German couple who are our hosts, don’t seem to care what time we start working, so we have a leisurely morning, reading, sipping tea, and maybe sitting on our porch enjoying the mountain views. We’re in a beautiful cabin at the top of a small mountain, a half-mile up the steep driveway from our hosts’ house.
9:00 a.m.: We walk down the driveway and have breakfast at our hosts’ house, usually homemade granola or some treat that Maika has baked. Since they work during the week, we help ourselves.
9:30. a.m.: Grab our tools and start working. Most of the work here consists of reforesting steep hills with native trees. New Zealand has been overrun with non-native pine forests, and where there are no pines, you’ll often find eroding hills. The hill above our cabin is one of the areas that we’re working on reforesting. So far we’ve planted over 130 trees on it.
11:00 a.m.: Tea time! New Zealanders love to drink tea, given that most of them are ex-pats from Europe (often from England and Scotland, given that most of New Zealand was “settled” by the British). Usually Peter and I skip this tea time and just have a cuppa after lunch instead.
1:00 p.m.: After a morning of planting in the sun (the temperature is getting well into the 70s during the day), we’ve worked up an appetite. If lunch isn’t leftover dinner, Peter likes to have eggs. With eight hens laying, they are always in abundance and very fresh.
1:45 p.m.: Back to work. Yesterday we put together a bunch of wooden frames that will go into the bee hives that we’d harvested honey from the night before. Four frames produced over 14 pounds of honey—and with all of the tea drinking around here they need it. They chose to harvest the honey since they’d run out, but usually there are 12-15 frames, so you could imagine how much honey they get.
4:00 p.m.: The day is done. This could mean more tea, or just some relaxing on the porch with a book until dinner. I prefer the latter.
7:00 p.m.: Dinner around here, at least on the weekends, is a collective effort. Last Friday night we made a bunch of pizzas in the outdoor clay pizza oven, which was really cool. All of the neighbors (who also have WWOOFers) came and we each designed our own pizza, and then cooked it in the oven, which took less than five minutes per pizza. The food is vegetarian and usually contains something that’s been grown on the property.
9:00 p.m.: If you’re a hardcore tea-lover, you’ll drink more tea after dinner. It’s kind of comical how much tea is consumed in a day. If you’re tired and want to sneak back to your cabin on the hill, then now’s the time.
We’ve just agreed to stay another week. I think we’d be crazy not to.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
A Promise Fulfilled
We'd been in Australia for a week and the only beast we'd seen was Doo Doo Brown.
We were starting to question our trip. There were supposed to be kangaroos and koalas and whales, but where were they? I didn't know where they were, but I promised Micaela that we would see them. It didn't raise our spirits much, so I made a bigger promise: we'd see a kangaroo with a koala in its pouch...riding a whale.
It wasn't long before we saw kangaroos and whales, and a little while later we saw koalas too. The fulfillment of the last promise took longer. It wasn't until our last week in Australia that we finally saw it, but here it is, a kangaroo with a koala in its pouch riding a whale:
We were starting to question our trip. There were supposed to be kangaroos and koalas and whales, but where were they? I didn't know where they were, but I promised Micaela that we would see them. It didn't raise our spirits much, so I made a bigger promise: we'd see a kangaroo with a koala in its pouch...riding a whale.
It wasn't long before we saw kangaroos and whales, and a little while later we saw koalas too. The fulfillment of the last promise took longer. It wasn't until our last week in Australia that we finally saw it, but here it is, a kangaroo with a koala in its pouch riding a whale:
Big Bats
Sydney's Royal Botanic Gardens is a great place to spend a few hours on a beautiful spring day. It's free and it's full of bats. They're large fruit bats called Grey Headed Flying Foxes and they're supposed to sleep during the day, but when we went by on Tuesday they couldn't sit still. 
I count sixteen flapping around in this picture with Sydney Tower in the background, and a few more hanging in the trees, but there are literally hundreds of them living in a relatively small area of the gardens. A few trees have been destroyed by the bats living in them and the paths around the area where they hang are covered in guano. There's a plaque supposedly describing the bats and their behavior but it's totally illegible because it's coated in their droppings.
I took about a hundred pictures of bats in flight and I'm still trying to sort through them. This one seemed decent and I like it because you can see his mammal parts clearly. You can see his furry little face, mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. You can see his feet and the way his hands are stretched out and webbed to make wings.
Since it's spring, we even saw some mother bats with little babies clinging to them. Unfortunately, I didn't get any good pictures of them, but if I lived here in Sydney, I'd go back to the botanic gardens every clear day until I did.
I count sixteen flapping around in this picture with Sydney Tower in the background, and a few more hanging in the trees, but there are literally hundreds of them living in a relatively small area of the gardens. A few trees have been destroyed by the bats living in them and the paths around the area where they hang are covered in guano. There's a plaque supposedly describing the bats and their behavior but it's totally illegible because it's coated in their droppings.
I took about a hundred pictures of bats in flight and I'm still trying to sort through them. This one seemed decent and I like it because you can see his mammal parts clearly. You can see his furry little face, mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. You can see his feet and the way his hands are stretched out and webbed to make wings.Since it's spring, we even saw some mother bats with little babies clinging to them. Unfortunately, I didn't get any good pictures of them, but if I lived here in Sydney, I'd go back to the botanic gardens every clear day until I did.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The Other "Grand Canyon"
On Friday, Pete and I took an evening train from Sydney’s Central Station to Katoomba, a small town just a few hours west, nestled on the edge of the “Grand Canyon” among the Blue Mountains. Our hostel had advertised itself as “deluxe,” though what that actually meant we weren’t sure, given that it was one of the cheaper accommodations available. It was spacious and much of the interior had been redone in 2005, so it was quite spiffy-looking, but what the ad hadn’t mentioned was that it was some kind of converted hospital. The high ceilings, industrial kitchen, and roomy dining area were all nice on paper, but the atmosphere, as Pete reluctantly pointed out, was something straight out of The Shining.
Saturday morning we woke up early, packed a lunch and put on our hiking shoes. It was only a 2k walk to Echo Point, the main entrance to the walking tracks leading down into the canyon. We got a map and followed the throng of Japanese tourists down a cement-paved walkway. At first we were worried that we’d fallen for a glossed-over version of the natural world—conveniently wheelchair accessible and kid-tested to be complaint-free. But as we meandered farther along, elbowing our way onto the lookout platform, we realized that we’d be descending into a canyon steep enough to weed out the frail and faint of heart.
Here’s Pete standing in front of the Three Sisters, three rock pillars that form one of the main visual attractions of the Blue Mountains. You can only see them from the other side of the canyon, so I opted for this shot of Pete mocking the stereotypical pose of a Japanese tourist (the peace sign).
A series of ladders and natural stone and wood steps stretched down into the bottom of the canyon for over a kilometer. This required steady legs, and in some cases, holding on to the railing on either side.
After reaching the bottom of the canyon we were surrounded by dense rainforest—and the occasional intrepid tourist. The sound of the cicadas was so freakishly loud that I took a short video to share the noise with you.
We followed the trail for a few kilometers, stopping for a snack and some views of Katoomba Falls. At this point my camera batteries were dead, so you’ll have to wait for Pete’s photos of all the good stuff. Eventually we made our way back up the canyon on the loop trail, facing another set of natural and unnatural stairs, feeling the burn. I guess we’re not quite in the shape we were in while working on the farm in Hawaii. It felt great to take in the fresh mountain air and expansive vistas after having been cooped up in Sydney for two weeks.
Our day ended with a nap, home-cooked bean burritos, and a spectacular pink-and-purple sunset. Exhaustion and satisfaction, while sometimes opposites, are definitely members of the same family.
Saturday morning we woke up early, packed a lunch and put on our hiking shoes. It was only a 2k walk to Echo Point, the main entrance to the walking tracks leading down into the canyon. We got a map and followed the throng of Japanese tourists down a cement-paved walkway. At first we were worried that we’d fallen for a glossed-over version of the natural world—conveniently wheelchair accessible and kid-tested to be complaint-free. But as we meandered farther along, elbowing our way onto the lookout platform, we realized that we’d be descending into a canyon steep enough to weed out the frail and faint of heart.
Here’s Pete standing in front of the Three Sisters, three rock pillars that form one of the main visual attractions of the Blue Mountains. You can only see them from the other side of the canyon, so I opted for this shot of Pete mocking the stereotypical pose of a Japanese tourist (the peace sign).
A series of ladders and natural stone and wood steps stretched down into the bottom of the canyon for over a kilometer. This required steady legs, and in some cases, holding on to the railing on either side.
After reaching the bottom of the canyon we were surrounded by dense rainforest—and the occasional intrepid tourist. The sound of the cicadas was so freakishly loud that I took a short video to share the noise with you.
We followed the trail for a few kilometers, stopping for a snack and some views of Katoomba Falls. At this point my camera batteries were dead, so you’ll have to wait for Pete’s photos of all the good stuff. Eventually we made our way back up the canyon on the loop trail, facing another set of natural and unnatural stairs, feeling the burn. I guess we’re not quite in the shape we were in while working on the farm in Hawaii. It felt great to take in the fresh mountain air and expansive vistas after having been cooped up in Sydney for two weeks.
Our day ended with a nap, home-cooked bean burritos, and a spectacular pink-and-purple sunset. Exhaustion and satisfaction, while sometimes opposites, are definitely members of the same family.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Almost Summer in the Almost City
It's the second rainy day in a row in Sydney, and there's nothing on our agenda today. We've spent nearly two weeks in the Brooklynesque suburb of Glebe, and we're starting to feel like we live here. I have my new passport--in the record time of 4 days--and my New Zealand working holiday visa. Pete got his mandatory chest x-ray for his visa (since he'd "spent more than 3 months in the last 5 years in a country not considered low risk for TB"--that's actually how they worded it), and this weekend we're heading to the Blue Mountains as a reward for all of the hoop-jumping we've done. Good thing we Americans have been trained to deal with bureaucracy; it seems to be a global epidemic.
We've managed to do as many of the low-budget tourist attractions as we can handle: walking across the Harbour Bridge, enjoying the NSW art museum (free!), checking out the fruit bats while strolling through the botanic gardens (also free!), taking a ferry to the beach suburb of Manly, poking through the junk at the Chinatown markets, admiring the sharks in the Sydney Aquarium, and of course, walking all over the city.
We leave for New Zealand on November 2nd, and are staying in Christchurch, on the South Island, until we figure out what we want to do from there. The holidays will be upon us soon, but we're in a seemingly endless summer. Do I dare to dream of a white Christmas?
We've managed to do as many of the low-budget tourist attractions as we can handle: walking across the Harbour Bridge, enjoying the NSW art museum (free!), checking out the fruit bats while strolling through the botanic gardens (also free!), taking a ferry to the beach suburb of Manly, poking through the junk at the Chinatown markets, admiring the sharks in the Sydney Aquarium, and of course, walking all over the city.
We leave for New Zealand on November 2nd, and are staying in Christchurch, on the South Island, until we figure out what we want to do from there. The holidays will be upon us soon, but we're in a seemingly endless summer. Do I dare to dream of a white Christmas?
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Crocodile Cruise
One of our last activities in Far North Queensland was a crocodile cruise on Cooper's Creek. We rode bikes from our hostel, Crocodylus, all the way there. It was hot and humid so the ride seemed much harder than it actually was. Our group assembled on the muddy banks of the creek to wait for the boat to return from the previous cruise. There were little crabs and mud skippers running in the mud which drew us to the waters edge. A khaki-clad tour guide emerged from the bushes and yelled "Oi! Away from the water!" I think it was more a device to get us excited about the possibilty of spotting potentially-man-eating crocodiles than an actual safety precaution.
The boat pulled up and a sad group of tourist got off. They hadn't spotted any crocodiles.
Like yet another clone of Steve Erwin, our boat captain/crocodile tour guide was also wearing all khaki and, incidentally, Crocs®. He told us he was having bad luck that day and maybe we could help him spot some crocodiles. The information he gave as we drifted up the creek had mostly to do with the mangroves. There are something like 150 different kinds of mangrove trees and that provides more than enough factoids to fill an hour long tour. It was begining to look hopeless as more and more various kinds of branches and roots became less and less interesting. Then, very casually, Micaela pointed and said, "There's one." Everyone stood up and got their cameras out and oohed and ahhed at what looked very much like a log. It was actually a crocodile, 2.4 meters long according to the guide. An older woman who seemed slightly confused pointed and said very loudly, "There, there, I see a crocodile!" It was obviously Micaela's sighting.
The boat pulled up and a sad group of tourist got off. They hadn't spotted any crocodiles.
Like yet another clone of Steve Erwin, our boat captain/crocodile tour guide was also wearing all khaki and, incidentally, Crocs®. He told us he was having bad luck that day and maybe we could help him spot some crocodiles. The information he gave as we drifted up the creek had mostly to do with the mangroves. There are something like 150 different kinds of mangrove trees and that provides more than enough factoids to fill an hour long tour. It was begining to look hopeless as more and more various kinds of branches and roots became less and less interesting. Then, very casually, Micaela pointed and said, "There's one." Everyone stood up and got their cameras out and oohed and ahhed at what looked very much like a log. It was actually a crocodile, 2.4 meters long according to the guide. An older woman who seemed slightly confused pointed and said very loudly, "There, there, I see a crocodile!" It was obviously Micaela's sighting.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Scuba Diving
Scuba diving at the Great Barrier Reef was great. My batteries died on the morning we had the best visibility, which was kind of nice because I could just enjoy the reef without fussing with my camera. Here are a couple of pictures from the first day.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Maps!
Here's my first attempt at putting a real map on our blog.
View Larger Map
This shows some of the places we've been in Far North Queensland. Click around and see how it works. I'm still figuring it out for myself, but it looks like it has great potential.
View Larger Map
This shows some of the places we've been in Far North Queensland. Click around and see how it works. I'm still figuring it out for myself, but it looks like it has great potential.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Shipwreck Bay
Even though we were tired, we got up with the sunrise to kayak to a private beach. Micaela and Pete shared a kayak and I was paired with the girl who wouldn't stop asking questions about sharks, stingers and how to paddle a kayak... lucky me. Thankfully we paddled our way without incident to the empty shores of Shipwreck Bay. There were only seven of us in total and we took full advantage of the chance to snorkel on the fringe reef about 80 meters offshore. It wasn't nearly as clear or as awesome as the Great Barrier Reef, but the peace and quiet made it a completely new experience. The snorkeling was peaceful since the water was calm, and I think we all wished we could stay there all day. Before paddling back, we walked the empty beach collecting shells and watching crabs scramble under the sand as we passed. The water was warm, the sun was out, and by the time we got back to our cabin in the rainforest, our day was just beginning.
Birdwing
This is the Cairns Birdwing. In my opinion it's the most beautiful and photogenic of the bunch and is only found in the Daintree Rainforest, which is the oldest rainforest on earth. We saw more rare butterflies on our excursion, but most of them took off before I could snap a picture since birds love to feast on them. This particular butterfly allowed me to take a few pictures and was my favorite.
Air and Water
Last week while we were staying in Cairns, Morgan and I decided to go to the village of Kuranda, originally an Aboriginal village, now a popular tourist destination. We didn’t care much for the gift-shop atmosphere or the trinkets being sold, but we wanted to go anyway since there is a gondola that runs the 8 kms there, with amazing views of both the ocean and rainforest. Here’s a picture of the shire of Cairns from our gondola. 
While in Kuranda we went to the Butterfly Sanctuary, formerly the largest one of its kind in the world, until a larger one was built in England. Since Pete was at his scuba diving refresher class, I decided to take a few butterfly photos in hopes of both impressing and informing him. Here was my favorite picture:
The butterflies are attracted to bright colors, but they particularly like white. Morgan was wearing her Yankees hat in support of her team during the playoffs, and the butterflies seemed to enjoy the white embroidery of the logo.
Our main reason for staying in Cairns was so that we could take an overnight boat trip to the Great Barrier Reef. We booked the trip at our hostel—Morgan decided to go snorkeling, I signed up for introductory scuba diving, and Pete, who is a certified diver, signed up to do some dives as well. The weather was perfect—80s, sunny, calm water, amazing visibility, and not much wind. At our last dive location on the second day, you could clearly see portions of the coral reef from the deck of our ship. These were the actual colors—this photo wasn’t altered.
On my first attempt at diving, I couldn’t seem to equalize the pressure in my ears, and after 20 minutes we all came up for air. After that I stuck to snorkeling with Morgan in hopes that my ear would heal. My ear never equalized, but it wasn’t so bad since snorkeling was better—I could maneuver into smaller spaces and float above coral that was just a few feet below the surface.
I’ll let Pete post his underwater photos, but the highlights included a large turtle, electric-blue coral, white-tipped reef sharks, and giant clams. There were more colors and more species than I’ve ever seen in such a small area. It was definitely one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.
While in Kuranda we went to the Butterfly Sanctuary, formerly the largest one of its kind in the world, until a larger one was built in England. Since Pete was at his scuba diving refresher class, I decided to take a few butterfly photos in hopes of both impressing and informing him. Here was my favorite picture:
The butterflies are attracted to bright colors, but they particularly like white. Morgan was wearing her Yankees hat in support of her team during the playoffs, and the butterflies seemed to enjoy the white embroidery of the logo.
Our main reason for staying in Cairns was so that we could take an overnight boat trip to the Great Barrier Reef. We booked the trip at our hostel—Morgan decided to go snorkeling, I signed up for introductory scuba diving, and Pete, who is a certified diver, signed up to do some dives as well. The weather was perfect—80s, sunny, calm water, amazing visibility, and not much wind. At our last dive location on the second day, you could clearly see portions of the coral reef from the deck of our ship. These were the actual colors—this photo wasn’t altered.
On my first attempt at diving, I couldn’t seem to equalize the pressure in my ears, and after 20 minutes we all came up for air. After that I stuck to snorkeling with Morgan in hopes that my ear would heal. My ear never equalized, but it wasn’t so bad since snorkeling was better—I could maneuver into smaller spaces and float above coral that was just a few feet below the surface.
I’ll let Pete post his underwater photos, but the highlights included a large turtle, electric-blue coral, white-tipped reef sharks, and giant clams. There were more colors and more species than I’ve ever seen in such a small area. It was definitely one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Koalas and 'Roos and No Bears--Oh My!
While in Brisbane we visited the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary--the first and oldest koala sanctuary in the world. I was determined to "cuddle" a koala at the price of $15, timeless photo included in the purchase. We prefer Pete's version of the photo, so that's the one I'm posting here.
There were also a bunch of fenced-in kangaroos that we were allowed to feed. Here's Morgan feeding one:
Not only did I learn that a koala is not a bear (yes, Morgan and Peter, you were right), but it's a pouched marsupial. Their pouches are much less visible than those of the kangaroo, but they're for the same purpose (housing their young, who only gestate for 20-30 days before making their way into the pouch). They weren't the most excitable creatures given that they sleep 18-20 hours a day due to their low-energy diet of eucalyptus leaves, but they became quite animated when fed.
We had a couple of really great days enjoying the Brisbane nightlife, relaxing at our friendly hostel, and cooking delicious meals for ourselves. On Tuesday morning we flew to Cairns where we're staying at one of the nicest hostels that we've been to so far. A swimming pool, hammocks, air-conditioners, free dinners and DVDs, and not a single bunkbed in the place. The weather is humid and almost tropical and there are lots of nearby rainforests, though it's the end of the dry season here in northern Queensland.
Saturday is our last day at the hostel and then we're going to do a two-day, one-night scuba/snorkelling trip out to the reef, which is about 60 km offshore. Until then we might take a daytrip to the Outback, though we haven't decided yet. Lots of options...
There were also a bunch of fenced-in kangaroos that we were allowed to feed. Here's Morgan feeding one:
Not only did I learn that a koala is not a bear (yes, Morgan and Peter, you were right), but it's a pouched marsupial. Their pouches are much less visible than those of the kangaroo, but they're for the same purpose (housing their young, who only gestate for 20-30 days before making their way into the pouch). They weren't the most excitable creatures given that they sleep 18-20 hours a day due to their low-energy diet of eucalyptus leaves, but they became quite animated when fed.
We had a couple of really great days enjoying the Brisbane nightlife, relaxing at our friendly hostel, and cooking delicious meals for ourselves. On Tuesday morning we flew to Cairns where we're staying at one of the nicest hostels that we've been to so far. A swimming pool, hammocks, air-conditioners, free dinners and DVDs, and not a single bunkbed in the place. The weather is humid and almost tropical and there are lots of nearby rainforests, though it's the end of the dry season here in northern Queensland.
Saturday is our last day at the hostel and then we're going to do a two-day, one-night scuba/snorkelling trip out to the reef, which is about 60 km offshore. Until then we might take a daytrip to the Outback, though we haven't decided yet. Lots of options...
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Getting there is half the battle...
So you've probably noticed that Micaela and Pete have been slacking a little on the blog - well, you can blame me for that (at least partially). After some contemplation, though more on a whim than anything, I decided to join them in the "Land Down Under". Since it was cheaper to fly to Honolulu and then to Sydney, I made a 3-day, 2-night pit stop and stayed on Waikiki Beach before continuing on my way. This first leg of my journey involved two, 6-hour flights with a 4-hour layover in Las Vegas. The second leg of the trip was the worst! I endured a roller coaster ride from Honolulu to Sydney. I say "roller coaster ride" because for the first 2 hours of the flight the plan shook violently from side-to-side as we encountered some of the worst turbulence I've ever experienced. Upon our approach to Sydney I was elated to finally spot land, but it wasn't long before my hopes were dashed and replaced by my worst fear... the plane suddenly made a sharp, banking U-turn back out over the ocean and the only thing I could see out my window was the sky. My stomach dropped as the woman next to me shouted, "Jesus Christ!" Thankfully after a few minutes we circled back and landed safely on the ground.
The Australian customs agent confiscated my stash of Slim Jims (brought for emergencies) in the airport as he laughingly informed me, "You can't bring meat products into this country and that includes Slim Jims." I didn't have the energy to argue about the meat content of a Slim Jim, so I sadly handed them over and went to find a taxi. I took a cab to a hostel in Sydney and immediately went to sleep upon arrival. With the 20-hour time difference between Honolulu and Sydney I had lost almost an entire day.
The next morning I boarded a Greyhound bus for Brisbane where I would meet up with Micaela and Pete. The ride was a mere 16 1/2 hours! The bus stopped for 3 "meal breaks" which all consisted of a roadside gas station selling some form of deep fried seafood, meat pies or other deep fried items coated in various coagulated sauces. This was my introduction to the Australian diet.
When I arrived in Brisbane at 11:30 pm, I called my sister and let her know that I had made it. She said to go outside and meet her and Pete by the front steps of the transit station. As soon as I turned to look down the street, I saw a hand wave and immediately recognized Mic and Pete. I ran across the street and into her arms for a long awaited reunion. After travelling alone for almost a week and not having seen her in several months, I began to cry out of happiness. I had almost forgotten that I had a destination and I was finally there!
The Australian customs agent confiscated my stash of Slim Jims (brought for emergencies) in the airport as he laughingly informed me, "You can't bring meat products into this country and that includes Slim Jims." I didn't have the energy to argue about the meat content of a Slim Jim, so I sadly handed them over and went to find a taxi. I took a cab to a hostel in Sydney and immediately went to sleep upon arrival. With the 20-hour time difference between Honolulu and Sydney I had lost almost an entire day.
The next morning I boarded a Greyhound bus for Brisbane where I would meet up with Micaela and Pete. The ride was a mere 16 1/2 hours! The bus stopped for 3 "meal breaks" which all consisted of a roadside gas station selling some form of deep fried seafood, meat pies or other deep fried items coated in various coagulated sauces. This was my introduction to the Australian diet.
When I arrived in Brisbane at 11:30 pm, I called my sister and let her know that I had made it. She said to go outside and meet her and Pete by the front steps of the transit station. As soon as I turned to look down the street, I saw a hand wave and immediately recognized Mic and Pete. I ran across the street and into her arms for a long awaited reunion. After travelling alone for almost a week and not having seen her in several months, I began to cry out of happiness. I had almost forgotten that I had a destination and I was finally there!
Thursday, September 27, 2007
In the Footsteps of Explorers
Last weekend we took a one-night, two-day tour of Fraser Island, also known as “The Great Sandy Island.” It’s the largest sandbar, or sand island, in the world, is an infamous dingo habitat, contains an official highway that is actually just a beach, requires four-wheel drive vehicles to navigate the sand roads, and is home to a large subtropical rainforest as well as over 100 freshwater lakes, if you can believe all of that. It definitely has an otherworldly feel to it, given its isolation (you can only reach it by ferry) and it’s uniqueness.
Inhabited by the Aboriginals around 14,000 years ago, later “discovered” by the Dutch, Portuguese, and of course our good friend Captain Cook, the island has a rich and often mythic history. In most recent years, the dingo population has been slowly waning due to government-supported efforts to eradicate it from Fraser Island. As more and more people visit the island for recreation and tourism, the dingoes are becoming bolder—mating with domestic dogs, and yes, eating babies. According to our tour guide, the dingo isn’t even endemic to Australia, but rather is an Asian wolf that was introduced to Australia around 3,000 years ago. Ironically, the only place it is found today is Australia.
With a slight sense of guilt and hypocrisy, we were led around in a large four-wheel-drive bus that took us through the rainforest on the first day, stopping at Lake Wobby for a nice swim. The weather up here is getting warmer as spring progresses, the temperature being in the 70s most days—so despite the rain shower we got while hiking over the sand dunes toward the lake, it was a most welcome swim.
There were 20 of us young folks on the bus, as our driver zipped along the beach highway, sometimes zigging and zagging to avoid encroaching waves and other vehicles. On the second day we visited a handful of other sites, including the crystal-clear Lake McKenzie, and the tallest point on the island, Indian Head, formed thousands of years ago by underwater volcanoes, and later named by the ubiquitous Captain Cook, who seemed to find savage “Indians” wherever he went.
From this point you can often see sharks and whales lurking about the depths below, though we were only able to spot some far-off trumpeting of whales. Due to the deadly stingers (box jellyfish) found in the coastal waters, and the presence of sharks, swimming is prohibited on all beaches surrounding Fraser Island. We admired the water from the safety of the sand dunes. (Photos to come.)
Yesterday we took the bus to Noosa Heads, a very popular beach town about halfway between Hervey Bay and Brisbane. We made the decision to come back south in order to meet up with my sister, Morgan, who will be in Sydney on Friday. We’re going to meet in Brisbane and then fly to Cairns, given that it was the same price as the bus without having to endure a 20+ hour ride on a Greyhound. The Australian Greyhound isn’t any more exciting as the American version, so you can see why we made the decision.
Unfortunately (though rather fortunately, as it turned out), when we arrived in Noosa we discovered that all of the hotels and hostels were full due to the school holiday. Usually when you arrive at a popular destination, the hostels all have courtesy vans lined up awaiting your business. This time, however, each of the vans were full (phone calls to the hostels confirmed that there was no room at the inn) and zipped out of the parking lot before we could blink—that is, all but one lone van for the Noosa North Shore Resort, where we both eagerly and reluctantly headed to.
We meandered through Noosa proper and eventually crossed a river on a small ferry, until we arrived at the North Shore. For very little money we get to stay in a “backpacker dorm,” which is actually a two-bedroom apartment, with bunks in each room, and two bathrooms. We have a stove, a living room, and even a swimming pool, but the best part is that we’re surrounded by the natural world. There are dozens of kangaroos hopping around, we saw a goanna on our way to the beach, Pete nearly stepped on a stingray while we were canoeing on a nearby lake, and there are more birds than you can shake a stick at. Not to mention that the canoe rental is free, and there aren’t many people here aside from us and the nice British girl who’s sharing our space.
It’s the next best thing to being on an actual farm. We’ve been trying for weeks to contact farms that offer work-exchange stays, but it’s starting to feel like pushing a kangaroo into a rabbit hole. Either the farms get back to us after we’ve already made plans and moved on, or they can’t take us now, “but maybe in a week or two…” With Morgan on the way it’s even trickier, so I think we’re going to hang out here until the last minute, and then swing down to Brisbane (although you can’t really “swing down” anywhere on a Greyhound, but you know what I mean) so that I can be reunited with my sister.
Next adventure: the Great Barrier Reef. Nine out of ten environmental scientists agree, “Get it while it still exists!”
Inhabited by the Aboriginals around 14,000 years ago, later “discovered” by the Dutch, Portuguese, and of course our good friend Captain Cook, the island has a rich and often mythic history. In most recent years, the dingo population has been slowly waning due to government-supported efforts to eradicate it from Fraser Island. As more and more people visit the island for recreation and tourism, the dingoes are becoming bolder—mating with domestic dogs, and yes, eating babies. According to our tour guide, the dingo isn’t even endemic to Australia, but rather is an Asian wolf that was introduced to Australia around 3,000 years ago. Ironically, the only place it is found today is Australia.
With a slight sense of guilt and hypocrisy, we were led around in a large four-wheel-drive bus that took us through the rainforest on the first day, stopping at Lake Wobby for a nice swim. The weather up here is getting warmer as spring progresses, the temperature being in the 70s most days—so despite the rain shower we got while hiking over the sand dunes toward the lake, it was a most welcome swim.
There were 20 of us young folks on the bus, as our driver zipped along the beach highway, sometimes zigging and zagging to avoid encroaching waves and other vehicles. On the second day we visited a handful of other sites, including the crystal-clear Lake McKenzie, and the tallest point on the island, Indian Head, formed thousands of years ago by underwater volcanoes, and later named by the ubiquitous Captain Cook, who seemed to find savage “Indians” wherever he went.
From this point you can often see sharks and whales lurking about the depths below, though we were only able to spot some far-off trumpeting of whales. Due to the deadly stingers (box jellyfish) found in the coastal waters, and the presence of sharks, swimming is prohibited on all beaches surrounding Fraser Island. We admired the water from the safety of the sand dunes. (Photos to come.)
Yesterday we took the bus to Noosa Heads, a very popular beach town about halfway between Hervey Bay and Brisbane. We made the decision to come back south in order to meet up with my sister, Morgan, who will be in Sydney on Friday. We’re going to meet in Brisbane and then fly to Cairns, given that it was the same price as the bus without having to endure a 20+ hour ride on a Greyhound. The Australian Greyhound isn’t any more exciting as the American version, so you can see why we made the decision.
Unfortunately (though rather fortunately, as it turned out), when we arrived in Noosa we discovered that all of the hotels and hostels were full due to the school holiday. Usually when you arrive at a popular destination, the hostels all have courtesy vans lined up awaiting your business. This time, however, each of the vans were full (phone calls to the hostels confirmed that there was no room at the inn) and zipped out of the parking lot before we could blink—that is, all but one lone van for the Noosa North Shore Resort, where we both eagerly and reluctantly headed to.
We meandered through Noosa proper and eventually crossed a river on a small ferry, until we arrived at the North Shore. For very little money we get to stay in a “backpacker dorm,” which is actually a two-bedroom apartment, with bunks in each room, and two bathrooms. We have a stove, a living room, and even a swimming pool, but the best part is that we’re surrounded by the natural world. There are dozens of kangaroos hopping around, we saw a goanna on our way to the beach, Pete nearly stepped on a stingray while we were canoeing on a nearby lake, and there are more birds than you can shake a stick at. Not to mention that the canoe rental is free, and there aren’t many people here aside from us and the nice British girl who’s sharing our space.
It’s the next best thing to being on an actual farm. We’ve been trying for weeks to contact farms that offer work-exchange stays, but it’s starting to feel like pushing a kangaroo into a rabbit hole. Either the farms get back to us after we’ve already made plans and moved on, or they can’t take us now, “but maybe in a week or two…” With Morgan on the way it’s even trickier, so I think we’re going to hang out here until the last minute, and then swing down to Brisbane (although you can’t really “swing down” anywhere on a Greyhound, but you know what I mean) so that I can be reunited with my sister.
Next adventure: the Great Barrier Reef. Nine out of ten environmental scientists agree, “Get it while it still exists!”
Friday, September 21, 2007
Whale Watching in Hervey Bay
Micaela wanted me to call this blog entry "A Whale of a Time" but I refuse.
Whale watching yesterday was awesome. It was windy and rough so moving around the boat was tricky. An old man fell and cut his hand, a few people got seasick, and a little boy screamed every time there was a big swell. The whales were incredible. It was obviously a great day for whale watching since the guides were really excited about all the activity. We saw lots of humpback whales and they jumped out of the water, or breached, a lot.
Whale watching yesterday was awesome. It was windy and rough so moving around the boat was tricky. An old man fell and cut his hand, a few people got seasick, and a little boy screamed every time there was a big swell. The whales were incredible. It was obviously a great day for whale watching since the guides were really excited about all the activity. We saw lots of humpback whales and they jumped out of the water, or breached, a lot.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Common Brushtail Possum
The other night we were sitting on the third floor balcony of our hostel admiring Brisbane's unremarkable skyline when there was a rustling in the nearby palm tree. It was something large. It was too dark to make out what it was until the flash from my camera lit it up. There in the branches of the date palm tree was a furry little possum eating a juicy date. It was totally unafraid and continued eating even when the flash went off five more times a couple feet from it's face.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
"Down by the bay..."
We've found ourselves in Byron Bay again, if only for a brief respite from all of the sleepy little seaside villages. Byron Bay is supposed to be a young person's paradise, and in the summer I'm sure it resembles a city despite it's less than 8,000 residents. It's full of young surfers and surfer wannabes, most of whom are Australian or German. There are very few Americans here, which was a surprise to both of us.
Byron Bay was named by none other than Captain Cook, after Lord Byron's grandfather, John, who was an explorer of the time. Somewhere in history, a confused townsperson, believing the town to be named for Lord Byron himself, decided to name several of the streets after other Romantic poets--Keats, Shelley, Jonson--and the names stuck.
Today we were supposed to go on a whale watching tour, but it was canceled due to high winds. Pete was too bitter to drag around his camera, so I decided to take some pictures while we walked along the bay. Here's a picture of the cape--you might be able to see the lighthouse if you look closely.
We encountered a lot of jellyfish that had washed ashore, and this was the most intact of them all.
It looks small, but it was actually about a foot and a half in diameter.
This blue thing we assumed to be a jellyfish as well, but it turns out that it's a Portuguese Man O' War. There were actually a lot of them dotting the shoreline. This one was twitching. The bubble-like structure is a "sail" full of carbon dioxide that the Man O' War uses to stay afloat.
Tonight we're staying in a hostel along the main beach in Byron Bay, and tomorrow we're heading to Brisbane.
Byron Bay was named by none other than Captain Cook, after Lord Byron's grandfather, John, who was an explorer of the time. Somewhere in history, a confused townsperson, believing the town to be named for Lord Byron himself, decided to name several of the streets after other Romantic poets--Keats, Shelley, Jonson--and the names stuck.
Today we were supposed to go on a whale watching tour, but it was canceled due to high winds. Pete was too bitter to drag around his camera, so I decided to take some pictures while we walked along the bay. Here's a picture of the cape--you might be able to see the lighthouse if you look closely.
We encountered a lot of jellyfish that had washed ashore, and this was the most intact of them all.
It looks small, but it was actually about a foot and a half in diameter.
This blue thing we assumed to be a jellyfish as well, but it turns out that it's a Portuguese Man O' War. There were actually a lot of them dotting the shoreline. This one was twitching. The bubble-like structure is a "sail" full of carbon dioxide that the Man O' War uses to stay afloat.
Tonight we're staying in a hostel along the main beach in Byron Bay, and tomorrow we're heading to Brisbane.
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