Heading for the Hills

So the Australian Open is in its second week, and the field is slowly wittling down to the one winner. It’s been a good tournament to watch, even though it has had its off-the-court dramas–including nationalistic fighting between Serbs & Croats, a child being assaulted in the toilets, and multiple men charged with taking pictures up women’s skirts as they walk around the grounds. It really is sad that all of those incidents have happened, since the Aussie Open is known for its happy-go-lucky nature and the joy the fans bring to the game.

I was sad to see James Blake lose in three to Fernando Gonzalez, especially since he had so many chances. Even though I’m not the huge fan of him that I used to be, I still like to see him win, but Fernando was playing absolutely astounding tennis, and Rafa will have a hard time with him if he keeps playing that way. I’m surprised that I’ve been happy to see Roddick do so well; it might just be because I like Jimmy Connors…I’m not surprised at all, though, that I still don’t like Serena Williams.

James told me I was un-Australian for being excited when Lleyton Hewitt lost, but I told him that I can’t cheer for someone just because of their country unless it is a country-based competition. Tennis is only that way in Davis Cup and Fed Cup; I will cheer for Lleyton solely because he is Australian there and there only. Otherwise, I can’t stand him.

On the Three Peaks front, I have been put on the waiting list, with the official coordinator of the Challenge yet to get back to me, since he was on vacation for the last week. Since I have a friend that has offered to let me join the group she is walking with and since I will only be in England for the challenge in May, I hold out some hope that I will get in off the waiting list. It’s really just a game of wait-and-see though. I’ll be very excited if I get to do the walk, but if not, I will give to the cause, cheer on those that are doing it this year, and hope that I can do it another year.

Thanks to those that commented on my last entry; reading the blogs and other information sent to me made me even more excited about the Challenge. It’s good to have people cheering you on, too!

I got an interesting email from a friend a couple days ago, asking for help for her friend. She needed donations from people willing to sponsor her climb of the three tallest peaks in Great Britain–Snowdon (in Wales and 1085m tall), Scafell Pike (in England and 978m tall), and Ben Nevis (in Scotland and 1344m tall). This is a challenge done by the Meningitis Trust three times a year to help support those that are currently fighting meningitis and those that have been affected by it. Many other groups do this climb as well–apparently thousands make the trek every year–but this one involves raising money directly for the charity and importantly, doesn’t require you to organize teams or transportation, since the mountains are a good 500 miles apart by road. The Three Peaks Challenge is done in the span of 36 hours, starting on Snowdon and ending on Ben Nevis the next day.

This email not only inspired me to give money, but also to consider doing the climb myself. I will be in England during the first climb (May 18-20), and I think it would be an amazing experience. I loved climbing the mini-mountains of the Glass House Mountains in Queensland, Australia, and doing the Tongariro Crossing (an 11-mile hike around the three volcanoes south of Lake Taupo in NZ), and this would be just a step further. I’m already working on my fitness as it is, and it’s always easier to stay in shape when you have a goal to work towards. Plus, I’d be raising money for a good cause, so I would not only be accomplishing all this for myself, but for those I’ve helped with the money I’ve raised.

Of course, one of the issues is time. It’s January and I’m just now considering doing the walk, but I figure that I can raise the money in that amount of time, as long as I make a decision soon. The only main problem is the idea of asking my grandparents. They are the reason for my visit to England; I haven’t visited them there since 2004 because I’ve been hopping over to Australia every chance I get, so it’ll be great to spend time with them. The challenge will only be a couple days, and I will be able to catch the train to the starting point and back; the only thing my parents and I worry about is worrying them. I don’t want to stress them out and make them feel they have to drive me all over the country and make sure that I don’t fall off any mountains. After all, I am rather clumsy and ended up in the hospital on my last visit to England…after falling into a parked car…but, all of my accidents have been stupid, while doing mundane activities. I’ve been fine on all of the adventure activities I’ve done in NZ and Australia (knock on wood). I’ll have to see–as much as I would thoroughly enjoy this opportunity (as much as I may not claim that while making my way to the final peak), I do not want to inconvenience my grandparents or give them any undue stress. All I can do is ask and listen to their reaction.

We’ll see what happens, but I can hope.

Also, James (my boyfriend) has just bought his ticket to visit me! He’ll be arriving on Australia Day–January 26th–just in time to celebrate the holiday with lots of my favorite Bundaberg Rum and Tim Tams. Maybe we’ll even have a BBQ with plenty of lamb–as long as the weather isn’t as bloody freezing as it is right now (we’re hovering around freezing and might be covered in ice by tomorrow morning!). Can’t wait til he gets here, since it’s been nearly 5 months since I left Oz.

In browsing the SMH website last night, I found that Terri Irwin has been appointed as Australia’s “tourism ambassador”. I was a bit skeptical of this decision at first, but I think it’s actually a pretty good idea. Even though she isn’t a hot 18-year-old model (Lara Bingle, as seen in the “Where the bloody hell are you?” Australia commercials) or a cute 8-year-old kid (her daughter, Bindi, was rumored to be replacing Bingle), I think she’ll work. Plus, Bindi really didn’t need to be appointed to a position like that at the age of 8 years old. People claim she is overworked and shouldn’t be doing such a heavy press tour of America so soon after her father’s death (even though she had planned to take this trip with her father), but she has been in front of the cameras from the minute she was born, and that’s where she is most comfortable. Yes, it’s a bit disconcerting that she has always seemed so composed even though her beloved father just died, but I think Terri is the one that can judge what is best for her own daughter. When I went to Australia Zoo in early 2005, they were selling Bindi t-shirts and action figures, so it’s not like it’s something new that she’s been thrust into since her father’s death. However, I didn’t think it was a good idea to put it on her to sell Australia. That is not something she was doing before her dad died and put a lot more spotlight on her than is good for her–unless people want her to turn into another Mary-Kate Olsen or something like that.

Even though I find it funny that Terri is American and has been chosen to represent Australia, it’s a good choice. As the article says, she came to Australia first as a tourist, then “met a hunky bloke” and moved there. Even though she doesn’t have the fun accent that Americans love (as noted when my boyfriend, James, came over last year and was promptly asked to say words like “dingo”), she first saw the country through the eyes of an American abroad and can market it in that way. It doesn’t hurt that Americans loved her husband like Crocodile Dundee either.

Unfortunately, I can’t see her saying a “bad” word like “bloody,” which got the last campaign a lot of coverage when Britain banned and then unbanned the commercial. But, she’ll be able to pull out a koala or wombat and make the collective masses go “awwwwww….” instead. God knows that’s the first thing everyone asked me when I came home–”Did you hold a koala? Did you see kangaroos? Did you get bitten by anything poisonous?” Throw in any of the beautiful scenery that Australia is awash in and she’ll be all set.

I used to have a high opinion of Qantas, since it is head and shoulders above any airline America could ever conjure up–including Continental, which is probably the best of the bunch–but if this is proven true, that just might change. Apparently, a blown out tire blew a hole in the side of the plane–a rather large one, at that–and it continued on its way from Singapore to Frankfurt. I certainly wouldn’t want to be flying on such a long-haul flight with a hole in the side of my plane, although I suppose it would be interesting to see what mechanical implements/luggage fell out and crushed poor, unsuspecting people below. It would probably be somewhat akin to the infamous falling urine (which is actually from a British spoof program, in case anyone was wondering).

I just read an incredibly moving article about the skydiving accident in St. Louis last year, where a plane carrying 7 people hit a power pole and crashed, killing all but one girl–Kimberley Dear of the suburbs of Melbourne. Tears were welling up by the time I reached the end of the fourth page of the article, which is the third in a series of five called the “Girl who fell to Earth.” I cannot imagine what it would be like to be in that situation, but Rob Cook, the instructor she was diving with, was truly heroic–he kept calm and saved another’s life, knowing it would cost him his own.

On a lighter note, this is old news, but I appreciated it anyway. A guy that was taping skydivers at Taupo Tandem Skydive, one of the three companies that operate at Lake Taupo in NZ, where I went skydiving, plunged to the ground after his parachute didn’t open. He thought he was going to die, but hit a blackberry bush…and lived! He suffered a broken ankle and a punctured lung, but at least he’s alive. This made me feel a lot better about the safety of the area I went skydiving–at least if your chute doesn’t open, the ground is padded (or so I’d like to think).

I was reading an article today in one of my favorite newspapers, the Sydney Morning Herald. A multitude of articles about Steve Irwin have popped up there since his death, and more have popped up recently, given the impending release of his last documentary, Ocean’s Deadliest, on January 21st. This is the most recent of those articles, and it describes how Steve Irwin’s last day will not be shown in the film. Really? Who would have thought?

There’s two reasons this won’t be shown, one that wasn’t included in the article. Reason number 1 is that he was actually filming footage of “harmless” stingrays on the day of his death for his daughter Bindi’s show. Reason number 2 is that nobody should see that footage, because it’s just not right for someone’s last moments, especially when they involve pulling a stingray barb out of a heart, to be shown to everyone. It’s an intensely private and heart-yanking moment that, if it was footage of one of my family members, would be incredibly difficult to watch, and this would be made even more difficult if the whole world had access to it and it was plastered all over the evening news. Plus, many of his fans are children. Do they really need to be seeing that? After the reaction to Saddam’s death, where 3 kids hanged themselves–including one in Houston–just because they saw it on TV, I’d hate to see what they tried after seeing Steve Irwin’s death.

On the subject of Steve Irwin, I have to say that I was one of the people that wasn’t such a fan before his death. I thought he was a bit over-the-top and kind of crazy. Hindsight is always 20/20 though, and I’ve seen how much good he did for conservation and so many other things in Australia. Plus, I’ve watched a couple full episodes of the Croc Hunter, as well as his absolutely hilarious interview with Conan, and I’ve realized that had I left the TV on for more than a few minutes, I would have really liked him. I am really glad that I visited his zoo before he died, and got plenty of pictures with life-size cutouts and ginormous posters on the wall.

Well that’s my thoughts on the current Steve Irwin “news.” I’m off to play my brother’s Wii.

Here I am, writing my first entry in my new travel blog. Unfortunately, I don’t have any travel to write about currently, since my next trip isn’t until March, when my friends and I are taking a senior Spring Break trip to Puerto Rico. Later in 2007, I plan on visiting my grandparents in England (May) and visiting my boyfriend in Brisbane (August). Hopefully at the end of the year I’ll be moving to Australia permanently.

Until I hop on board any planes, I plan on using this as a semi-planning guide for my trips later in the year and a place to hold my musings about the country I’ve fallen in love with and more than a few would call me obsessed with.

So, the Ashes. The Pommys didn’t do quite so well this year, as my boyfriend James likes to point out to me so I can point it out to my British grandfather. In fact, the Pommys did abso-bloody-lutely terrible. The first series whitewash since 1921? Not such a good way to defend your first series win in a long time.

I really can’t believe I’m even talking about the Ashes. My grandfather always had cricket on when we visited in England, yet an explanation would promptly leave all of us snoring on the couch. When James, his family, and I drove into central NSW last Christmas and we were fortunate enough to listen to the Boxing Day test on the ABC, it again left me snoring, only this time in the back seat of the car. It wasn’t until we actually arrived at his grandparents’ house that I managed to stay awake long enough to realize–that is the point of cricket! James’ father pointed out that he was going to show me the right way to watch cricket, and within ten minutes, every male in the room was fast asleep, leaving the women to listen to their symphony of snores. Since then, I’ve found it a much more interesting game mid-afternoon nap.

In all seriousness, I actually watched the scores rather avidly on the SMH website this year and even understood how to read them! I think it’s great that McGrath, Langer, and Warne got to retire on such a high note, even if Warney didn’t get his ton (100 runs in an innings, and something he’d never gotten before). Now Warney can concentrate on sending naughty text messages full time.

I still think rugby (union or league) is a much more interesting game than cricket, but at least I find it tolerable now. Otherwise, it would be very insulting when James told me he couldn’t talk to me this afternoon because there’s a really riveting cricket match going on that he must see the end of.