well i’m on my way…

Monday morning I started making plans: I booked a bus, a few nights in a hostel,  and a train (actually, the train the creator of Lord of the Rings took that made him decide to film the movie here).  I didn’t feel so lost anymore. 

My friend Gareth, whom I met in Cairns, his sister Jennette, and their dog Gunner picked me up to head to the beach.  Murawai Beach isn’t accessable by public transport, so it’s pretty much only locals that visit.  It has to be the most goregous beach I’ve seen so far-with the lush green all around, black sand, and a coast that goes on forever, until it got too misty from the sea foam.  Now black sand is beautiful to look at, with its sparklyness and unique color, but damn is it hot!  I’m pretty sure I burnt the bottoms of my feet while running across it.  The color of the water wasn’t really altered by the sand, which for some reason I was amazed by the fact.  The water was scary in a magnificent sort of way.  Most beaches I’ve encountered so far have had flags on the beach showing the swimmers where to swim between, depending on currents, rips, and other scary things that common people don’t know about.  The guard at this beach had to keep on moving the flags, and was moving them quite often.  After we baked in the sun, we all went in and I learned why the flags kept on moving.  After reaching about thigh-deep, I had to bend over a bit, and walk with all my might to walk even deeper.  I was pumping my arms like a power walker and everything!  A wave would come, and no matter how hard I tried to walk forward, I’d get pushed backwards.  It was cool and I was laughing, but it was kind of scary.  For a bit I let the waves take me where they wanted, but then I realized I was outside of the flags.  I now know how important the presence of the flags is for everyone’s safety.  If I thought the current was strong before, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling at that moment.  I kept a clear head, and walked parallel to the beach and headed back into the safe area.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the water, looking at it, being in it, but I have respect for it.  And if someone says not to swim in an area, I won’t.  Espeically now that I’ve felt the difference.

Gareth had to go to a martial arts class, which he’s casually serious about, (Is that an oxy-moron or what?!?!) so they dropped me off mid afternoon.  I went back to the cemetary and might have picked up something-it could have been the glare from the sun…It’s wierd how my mind tries to find a scientific reason for matter instead of instantly assuming it’s a ghost.  Years ago, I would have disregarded any reason other than that it has to be a ghost.  It’s a shame what 10 years can do to the imagination.  Or beliefs.  🙁  I didn’t stay long after my possible discovery and returned to the hostel while the sun was still high.  I was so wiped out from the waves I instantly fell asleep once I got to my room.

Gareth and Gunner picked me up to check out the north shore area Tuesday morning.  We went to Davenport and checked out some old Navy remnants-some dating back to the late 1800s.  It was a mass of underground tunnels and a bunch of storage rooms, and actually pretty cool.  Gunner is a Weimerheimer (sp?) and very friendly, and gave me a chance to see how Kiwis interact with eachother.  Kiwis are super friendly to begin with, and even more so with eachother.  After checking out the actual town of Davenport we drove up to Mt Eden, another extinct volcano and the highest point in Auckland.  The view was nice but after climbing up to high points of the city and checking out the view, it doesn’t do much for me anymore.  Gareth dropped me off, I read for a bit, and made it an early night.

If I’ve been informed correctly, today is Ash Wednesday.  I’m not going to church, but I am giving up Tim Tams for Lent.  Actually, I’m giving up anything made by Arnott’s (the brand who makes Tim Tams) and ice cream.  I’ve been eating quite a lot these, and neither my clothes nor my budget is appreciating this.  If I gave up drinking last year (which I was doing a lot of a year ago), I’m sure that a few sweets will be no problem this year.  But, I have one problem:  I don’t know when Easter is!

Is was pouring down rain my first full day in Auckland.  Ugh.  I miss Australia already!  I tried to take a walk to the supermarket-what would normally be a 20 minute walk ended up taking me nearly an hour.  Between stopping under awnings and fighting with my inside-out umbrella I ended up getting soaked, which was strange because every few minutes the rain would change.  It would alternate between a downpour and a soft rain.  But every time the rain let up a bit, the wind would take over.  I was bent over trying to walk against the wind.  It was insane!  I ended up hanging out in the hostel most of the day.  I couldn’t be bothered to deal with the rain.   I went out with my roommates to a bar, didn’t stay out late, but did ask the busker (street musician) to play some Bob Dylan for me when I noticed his harmonica stand on his collarbone.  I had to give him a dollar and he played “Don’t Think Twice It’s Alright”.  Great stuff.

On Saturday I went with my German roommate to walk around the city and go to the top of the Auckland tower to check out the view.  The weather here is very intermittent-rainy one hour and clear blue skies the next.  It had been raining for quite a while when we got to the top (53 stories I think?) so the views weren’t that great, but it was neat to see all of the extinct volcanoes around the city.  Lisa (the roomie) was afraid of heights, so it took her a while to get off the wall in the center.  I, on the other hand, was all up on the windows looking down, thinking to myself, “This isn’t that high…” Parts of the floor were glass instead of concrete and it was very entertaining watching everyone else afraid to step on it and then warming up to the idea of looking down below.  Lisa wouldn’t go near it, and of course, I took a photo of my feet suspended above the city below.  Lisa went back to the hostel and I hopped on the $1.60 bus that goes in a big circle around the city.  It was a good way to get an overview of the different areas of the city.  I went out with Lisa and a few other people from the hostel.  The bar we were in sucked;  some of the people we met were going to another bar that had a cover, but myself and a few of the other people are on a budget, so we went to the bottle shop (liquor store) and picked up a few bottles of wine and drank at the hostel with more like minded people.

I woke up after 6 hours of sleep ready to do some walking.  I walked 2 hours away from the city to check out Mt Roskill, the only reason being our names so similar!  I sat at the top and surveyed the land.  Today was clear so the sights were much better.  I checked out my map and realized I wasn’t too far from One Tree Hill, the exact hill U2 named their album after.  I also heard of a Coast to Coast Walkway that was supposed to be a nice scenic way of seeing the city.  I tried finding it with no luck for a while, but stumbled across it a few times while taking city streets to the tourist sights.  After checking out the view from the top of One Tree Hill, I realized that it was pretty much the same view I had from the Auckland tower, except today the skies were clear.  I saw quite a few sheep and lots of people trying to run up this hill-or ex volcano if you will. 

I realized that I was on the same street of a burger joint a friend had recommended to me.  She claims this is the best veggie burger she’s ever had and still gets cravings for it-and she was here in Auckland years ago.  So I ordered it, not knowing what was on it.  When they handed it to me, I thought they were handing me a brick.  I opened it up and examined the contents:  avocado, fried egg, lettuce, tomato, onion, shredded carrots, beetroot, pineapple, hashbrown, mushrooms, and salsa-all on like a French burger bun…yum!  It was so big it was hard to eat-it’s unfortunate that I could never get a bite that contained everything.  But it was so good!  So if anyone’s ever in Auckland, go to Alligators.  

By then I was exhausted (I’d then been walking for 7 hours) so I started heading back towards the city.  I stumbled across Harley Davidson (it was one of those days where you find everything you might be looking for) but being Sunday it was closed.  Near my hostel, I noticed a few old looking headstones popping out from beind a fence.  There was a huge sign advertising Symonds Street Cemetary that told about this history of it-it was really only used from the 1840s-1880s, so it’s a prime example of the Victorian headstones, not to mention a great way to research family lineage.  The cemetary is set on the side of a hill, and this hill is covered in beautiful foilage-palm trees, other trees unidentifiable to me, but massive with lots of brances and huge leaves.  I felt like I was in a rainforest (and technically maybe I was).  I have never seen a more beautiful cemetary.  If it was open, I’d change my mind about being cremated and want to be buried here. 

For those of you who don’t know me, I kind of have a thing for old cemeteries and ghosts.  I love walking around, inspecting the headstones, looking at dates and names and inscriptions.  And the afterlife has always interested me.  I spent a summer of my teen years hanging out in one of the most haunted places in the United States, if not the world-an old cemetary called Bachelor’s Grove.  Those of you who do know me, you know damn well I flipped my camera to black and white and started taking crazy amounts of pictures.  I think I took 100 but I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet.  I’ll let you know if anything comes out.  (The supernatural is known to appear through other forms of media-aren’t usually seen by the naked eye.)  I found a set of stairs and began descending them, until I got that instinctive feeling in my gut, not afraid of ghosts, but it was very near dusk, I had no flashlight, and I could hear branches falling off trees around me.  I promised myself I would come back in the daytime.  I think I spent over an hour there.  What an awesome day!   

When we flew over New Zealand, I was taken aback by how green it was.  Australia is so dry, and Victoria has been in a drought for the last eight years (hence all the fires).  The lush jutting (as opposed to rolling) hills were goregous, but was a strange sight for me beacause it was all one shade of green!  No 40 shades here!  The sky was overcast and it looked like rain.  I checked in, no problems, and got a three month visa upon my arrival!  Ha!-take that Pacific Blue bitch!  I just need to figure out some kind of itinerary so I can change my flight.  All in good time, my pretty, all in good time. 

After feeling like I was going to fall over myself walking down some pretty steep hills (having a 30 lb pack on my back didn’t help either) I made it to my hostel.  I didn’t really have time to get acclimated, since I had plans to meet up with a friend from Australia for dinner and drinks.  Mathieu (sp?) and his friend Marion are from France and are leaving to roadtrip the north island for the next two weeks.  I am meeting up with Mathieu in Wellington and we are going to roadtrip the south island together.  So for the next two weeks, I am going to check out Auckland and the area north of here.  After the South Island, I will make my way back north to Auckland.  These are the plans for now:  lets see how much they change… 

So I made it to the airport earlier than the suggested 120 minutes and checked in.  Or, attempted to.  It somehow slipped my mind that one needs proof of exit to enter New Zealand-or I thought that my flight home from Australia was proof enough.  Boy, was I wrong.  The Pacific Blue girl was going through her typical motions, asking if I packed my own bag and had it been in my possession the entire time while she was wrapping the sticky tag around the handle of my backpack.  When asked me if I had a return flight from New Zealand and got my negative answer, she abruptly ripped the tag off my backpack and said “You NEED a flight out of New Zeland”. 

When I asked her if there was internet access anywhere, she pointed abstractly behind my shoulder but sweetly said, “Or I can book it for you, if you’d like to fly Pacific Blue.”  Funny how people can change their attitude so quickly when trying to sell you something.  At a loss on what to do, half awake, and not eaten breakfast yet, I obliged.  She flipped through my passport to see when my Australian visa was up, since my flight HAD to be before the expiration date.  I didn’t understand this, since I had no problem purchasing a flight to China a few years ago without a visa.  And they’re communist!  Australia isn’t communist, last time I checked, and in fact, I was able to purchase my original flight to Australia without proof of visa…by then I felt discouraged, and was not about to start fighting with the woman who could obstruct my way into New Zealand, or out of Australia.  I had a plane to catch, and I was going to be on it.   

So I was forced to purchase a flight from Auckland (I clearly was not thinking) to Melbourne for March 18-at $170.  The only thing I can change on it is the date.  I would have had her check dates around that date, but I could feel the impatience looming of the growing crowd behind me.  So I grumbled to myself all the way to the gate about my misfortunes until I reminded myself that, hey, I am going to New Zealand, I’m not at home in the Chicago winter, and I can pretty much do whatever I want.  Why was I so upset??

I checked out of the greasy hostel and practically ran to the cleanliness of the YHA.  I couldn’t check in til 1 so I did some laundry and just hung out, mindlessly watching the news and reading Lord of the Rings The Two Towers.  I’m kinda hooked.  I’ve just been wandering around the city, not really doing anything too active-I fly out of here in May (read: WINTER) so I’ll probably want to spend some time, decompress from New Zealand, and check out museums and see who of my friends are still living here.  I went to the cinemas and saw He’s Not That Into You.  Good flick, I guess, but it had a happier ending than I thought it would-given the title and all.  It was nice hearing American accents…I hung out on the hostel rooftop that night overlooking the city. 

Melbourne and Chicago are similar-with the rivers cutting through the cities, “docklands” being converted into housing, ferris wheels, the skylines are a bit similar-don’t ask how…it just feels a bit like home here.  And I’m not sure how I feel about it.  I travel to find new things, different things, and Melbourne doesn’t really feel new or different. 

The next day my mission was to check out the two cultural streets:  Lygon Street and Brunswick Street.  Lygon Street is the Italian street-I still don’t understand why cities want to put all of the same thing on one street.  Anyways…walking down the street the smell of garlic was so pungent, and it was 11 in the morning!  I didn’t have any food, but smelling and drooling over the menus were enough for me!  I headed two blocks over to Brunswick street-the “bohemian” street that was filled with arty gardens, secondhand shops, and eclectic cafes…I walked up and down the street, pausing in a few shops here and there.  I was so tired, even though it wasn’t that hot.  My feet were sore (btw, the ankle’s recovered for the most part) and I started heading back to the hostel.  I stumbled across a nice park on the way back and lied down in the inviting shade of the trees.  I must have fallen asleep beause I jumped when I heard laughter-I got up and wandered around some more.  When I got back to the hostel, I met some people on the roof and we watched The Full Monty.  

I lied on St Kilda beach yesterday.  The waves were nonexistant but the sun was ever present.  I worked on my tan, since I’m afraid I will start losing it once I get to New Zealand, with temperatures being in the 50s and 60s (farenheit) on the South Island.  Yuck!  After I returned to the hostel, I went up to the roof and eavesdropped on a conversation-but only because I was trying to determine whether or not a guy was Canadian or American.  When I heard him say “It was, like, awesome” I butted in and asked him what part of the States he was from.  He looked taken aback, surprised someone asked him if he was American (a big no no, especially if you make the mistake of calling a Canadian an American), until I explained that I was from Chicago and hadn’t heard an American accent in so long.  So we chatted it up about the differences for a while.  I’m not homesick by any means, but hearing a familair accent is nice once in a while.

Today I went with one of my roommates to the Rialto Observation deck-55 stories up above the city.  It was a bit foggy out, so there wasn’t much to see, but what we did see was cool.  We’re heading to the night market tonight to see what there is to see.  I have to pack my bag tonight-yuck!  But I’m going to New Zealand tomorrow, so it’s so worth it.  =)

I’m condensing the last week into one post, so I’ll only give you the highlights:

The first day, Monday, we headed south and west, away from the fires and closer to the coast.  We followed the Great Ocean Road which is exactly what it claims-the road winds in and out of the mountains, towards and along the coast for a while, then back into the rainforest.  It was amazing.  The ocean was beautiful, deep blues and waves crashing…We stayed in Apollo Bay that night at the YHA (Youth Hostel Association) hostel which was a beautiful building.  I kept on saying “I don’t belive this is a hostel”.  My hostel standards have forever been raised and from now on, I will stay YHA in my travels,when I can, more expensive or not.  It’s definately worth it.  YHA’s are so much cleaner, the beds are more comfortable, the people staying in them are travlers who like to drink wine over conversations instead of the tourists in other hostels who drink goon to get wasted.  I have finally found my people!  (I did hear that Australian YHAs do have a higher standard than those in the rest of the world.)  Cameron and I sat on the beach and watched the waves and people attempting to surf while we ate our dinner.  

The next day we set out early to see rocks, waves, and lighthouses.  I’m pretty sure that this was the day we saw The 12 Apostles, as Cameron dubbed “the second most famous thing in Victoria”-with the penguins on Philip Island the first.  We stayed in Port Fairy that night and played pictionary with some other people in the hostel. 

The third day we went on a daytrip to South Australia with another person from the hostel.  We drove and drove and drove to see another lighthouse (Uncle Mick would have loved this roadtrip), a beach, and a really really blue lake, with no explanation as to why it’s so blue.  I don’t buy Cameron’s explanation that it’s so deep it’s that blue.  The ocean isn’t that blue, and it’s a lot deeper.  The signs posted had no explanation either, which I found odd.  Maybe it’s dyed?  Once we got back to the hostel, we walked to the beach in town and checked out the wildlife and another lighthouse. 

Cameron and I took a walk on the beach in the morning-Cameron decided to take a nap so I went to wander the city on my own.  I think this was my first time really on my own in the last week.  I didn’t realize how much I appreciate solitude.  I checked out a gallery and some antique shops.  The news of the fires were still getting bigger and bigger at this point, so I decided to phone home and let them know I’m alive and well and all that good stuff.  I think I talked to my mom and sister for almost an hour.  It was nice hearing a North American accent after hearing only Aussie for a week.  I had lunch at a Chinese restaurant and we left Port Fairy for Ballarat, the gold town in Victoria.  Ballarat still has all its old buildings and not many new ones-this is not very common in Australia-or at least the Australia I’ve seen so far.  It was a really cute town.  We walked around the town and had dinner at an Irish Pub.  I had nachos for dinner (sorry Dad) and they were surprisingly really good.  

On Friday the 13 we went to Soverign Hill, a reenactment of the gold rush days.  It was a pretty cool place-the people were dressed up to match the 1830s and they were selling lots of wares from back in the day.  After walking around there for a few hours, we went to the Gold museum across the street.  We checked out an art gallery in town before heading out.  The gallery housed a massive war-tattered flag.  Viewing it reminded me that I’m an American-(embarassingly) The Star Spangled Banner popped in my head when I was observing what was left of the Australian Labour Flag.  

Cameron wanted to show me a natural spring-mineral water being pumped out of the ground.  We had to park the car and walk down a road, then walk down some stairs.  I was walking down the steps, looking ahead into the bush (forest), not paying attention, and I fell.  I did my infamous roll of the foot and put all my weight on the outside of my right foot and crumpled to the ground.  Yep, I did it again.  I was wearing boots too.  The sprain isn’t as bad as it’s been in the past, only my ankle is a little swollen this time.  It should heal soon.  There’s just one thing I don’t remember:  at night, when I elevate my foot, should I wrap it?  Or leave it unwrapped?  I know I should wrap it while I’m walking around…

We got back to Melbourne around 6-I decided that I wanted to spend the weekend (and the rest of my time) in the actual city so I had to look around for a hostel.  The second one I checked could put me in a six bed room for the weekend…that was all I was worried about at that point.  All the hostels will clear out during the week.

So after a painful week for Victorians and generally Australians, I am back in Melbourne.  There are people everywhere with buckets asking for donations for the fire victims, market vendors are advertising they will donate percentages of their profits made today, and you can even donate at the supermarket.  It’s amazing watching all the people come out to help.  And it makes me realize that this may be the big difference between here and the United States.  When Hurrican Katrina happened, sure a lot of people went down to help, people donated money and goods, and adopted animals.  But what I’m seeing here, in a city of three million, is something that would only be witnessed in a small country town in the US.  Although Australia has a population of 21 million, it still has that small town feel of compassion and humanity.  Sad to say, I don’t witness it to this scale in my hometown of Chicago.  I didn’t witness it on this scale of 911 (I’m comparing apples and oranges here) or with Hurricane Katrina.

I was listening to Hamish and Andy, a popular radio talk show, earlier this week.  They were taking pledges and I was completely floored at what I heard.  People were calling in and donating $100, $500, a week’s wages…One woman just came into some money so she donated $20,000.  A kid called in and challenged his “cheap” father to donate $1000.  The father easily negotiated that he would only donate the $1000 if his son donated his XBox.  The kid readily agreed.  Would an American kid donate his XBox?  None that I know. 

And yes, I have donated.  I am probably one of the few backpackers that have.  I’ve talked to a few backpackers in this hostel and most of them didn’t really know about the fires.  So much for traveling to get to know a place and the culture…

I just hope that the fires put themselves out and soon.  I hope that people can begin rebuilding their lives as soon as possible, that the fires don’t take any more deaths, and that maybe some other countries in the world (ahem, America) can learn something from the way that the people have really banded together over here to help and make a difference.  These people aren’t “under attack”, and Australians are still coming together to help.  

I hope you guys are still enjoying the world’s most famous koala.  😉  

On Friday I had the best/worst breakfast of my life (after the avo and cheese of course) today: pancakes and berries smothered in maple syrup and vanilla ice cream.  Yum!-although I did feel a bit sluggish for the rest of the day.  Cameron and I made it down to the city around 1 and wandered, although not aimlessly.  We went to the Art Gallery, through the shopping district, saw the state library, though the Queen Victoria Markets (well just the bread, cheese, and olive part) and bought lunch there.  We took our feast of ciabatta bread; avacado, sun dried tomato, and eggplant capsicum (red pepper) dips; an antipasto salad, and octopii for Cameron.  The food was delish, though very rich.  After we both had stomachaches, we headed for the MCG-Melbourne Cricket Grounds.

Cricket is kind of like baseball, except the bat is flattened out, the batter runs back and fourth (like in running bases), the field is a circle, the pitcher is called a baller and runs toward the batter before pitching…OK it’s nothing like baseball.  The rules aren’t too hard to follow, but I’m not going to bore you.  I’m pretty sure that for 95% of the game, I was the only one paying attention.  The crowd is the real entertainment at a cricket game.  When I walked into the grounds, it already smelled like the garbage pit (what’s it called Em?) at the end of a show at the Tweeter Center: stale beer.  The Aussies were already incomprehensible, not only for me, but for Cameron as well.  I had one beer to get into the culture, but that was it. 

People were blowing up beachballs and throwing them around, not unlike at a Jimmy Buffett concert (or any show for that matter).  When the cops or security would take them away, the entire section would chant “You are a wanker!”  It was great.  The crowd started going crazy in another section, and we noticed a blow up doll getting thrown around.  It was then that I noticed the crowd was mostly male-and you could just imagine what they were doing to the doll besides throwing it around.  I’m not sure who reads this, so I’m not going to get too descriptive.   After playing keep away with the cops for about 15 minutes, they finally got a hold of her, and the crowd was quiet for about an hour.  Until everyone in the place started going crazy and our attention was turned toward the field-there was a man streaking across the field!  The screens intantly flashed to a warning of $6000 for going on the playing field (and who knows how much for indecent exposure!) and the guy was tackeled in the middle of the field, handcuffed, and taken out of the audience’s eye, but not after someone else ran out with a towel to cover him up.  Not long after, another clothed guy ran out, didn’t get nearly half as far, but skipped in between the cops with a shit-eating grin on his face as he was taken off the field.  Stupid drunk people are so entertaining!

The game was between Australia and New Zealand.  New Zealand won, which made the ride home interesting.  The tram car was split between Aussies and Kiwis.  The Kiwis were drunkenly boasting, telling the Australians that they sucked, whatever…until one of the Aussies bleated like a sheep (there are 140000 people in NZ, and 40 million sheep).  The Kiwis laughed (thank god) and remained good humored. 

The next day Cameron had to work, so I had the day to myself.  I got to the city after takign the train the wrong way for 20 minutes and realized I had stepped into an oven.  The mercury reached 47 C on Saturday, which comes out to 117 F.  Even though I was being cooked, the heat was dry and I kind of enjoyed it.  I found Starbucks and had to indulge-I haven’t had any in two months!  I went to the free Immigration Museum, which was very informative, but a lot of it was repeated from the Fremantle Museum (the excellent exhibit) and the heat had made me inattentive.  I walked around, looking for some relief from the heat, but I didn’t want to go in any shops I may be tempted  to purchase something in.  I suffered the heat most of the day.  The skies were very hazy, not from the heat, but from the fires not too far away.  The wind was terrible too, which was not helpful for the fires as well.  I had Subway for lunch/dinner-I’m a little ashamed that I consumed American brands all day, but it’s cheap.  I headed back to the apartment around 730, showered and read for the rest of the night, when I wasn’t glued to the TV learning about the damage the fires were creating.  Guess I do have some of my mom in me! 

Today, Sunday, we went to the St Kilda Festival.  St Kilda is the cafe/beachy/clubby district.  They shut their streets down, set up a ton of food and ware vendors, and 4 stages where very different bands were playing.  We saw a few bands, sampled a lot of food, and people watched.  St Kilda is known for their cake shops, so you know I indulged-I had a lemon square (Amazing) and a peppermint square (eh…).  After seeing pretty much all there was to see short of stupidly drunk people and a few more bands, we left and checked out the Botannical Gardens, which were very brown-a lot of the trees are starting to die, the grass is brown, and the flowers are all wilted.  They’re in a massive drought right now and could use a bit of rain.  The crazy heat isn’t helping either-yesterday set a record for Melbourne.  When we got back to the apartment we prepared for the week-Road Trip! 

I don’t know if this has reached world news yet, or if it will, but if you have heard about the bushfires in the state of Victoria, Australia, I want you to know that yes, I am in Melbourne, where these fires are raging around, and that yes, I am OK.  I would say that I’m unaffected, but I am breathing in the polluted air that these fires are causing.  I haven’t seen actual blue sky in a few days.  I’m supposed to go on a roadtrip out of the area leaving on Monday.  It might not happen, as most of the roads around here are blocked from the fires, or whatever has been left by the fires.  I’ve been seeing lots of things here in Melbourne and I’ll update you soon.  I’m going to a music fest today, unless the government calls for civillian help.  I just thought I’d send a shout out in case you’ve heard of what’s going on here.

I’d first like to share that I’m sitting in the comfort of my friend Cameron’s apartment.  I met Cameron on my last day in Beijing; he was in search of a camera and I for something to do besides look at more temples.  Staying with a friend means a lot of wonderful things a backpacker is not accustomed to: my own room, showering without flip flops and not worrying about a moldy shower curtain touching me, no fighting for space in the fridge or around the stove, and cleanliness!  It also means that I’ll see what the real Melbourne is like-instead of only what Australian tourism wants me to.  The most important benefit of this is that I already have a friend here, and I don’t have to totally put myself out there (or conversely, my game face on) in a hostel.  I’m going to have to find friends in every city from now on if I let myself get this spoiled.

Cam picked me up from the airport Wednesday night and drove through the city to get back to his suburban apartment.  From a distance, Melbourne could pass for a compacted Chicago-from the actual way the skyline looks and the fact it’s on a bay.  After we got over Westgate Bridge, Cameron told me how it was constructed: 2 teams of guys started on each side of the bridge and started building out, figuring they’d meet in the middle.  (We all know where this is going!)  One side ended up being 3 feet (or meters) higher than the other.  In order to fix this, they put weights on the heavier side.  Thirty-some people died in the construction of this and no one really trusts the bridge, although countless people drive over it daily during their commute. 

Thursday I slept until 11.  I don’t even know when the last time I slept that long was!  After being lazy for a while, we went to an American food store.  I laughed, amazed at the things that were imported:  corn nuts, moon pies, Jack Daniels BBQ sauce, Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup, Crisco, Tide…I purchased Code Red Mountain Dew since I haven’t seen it in the states for years and some kettle cooked potato chips (crisps!).  Cameron bought some Vermont maple syrup and some spice rubs for the barbie.  (A certain Jim Carrey movie just entered my thoughts right there…)

 We later went to Philip Island to watch the penguins come in.  Fairy penguins hang out all day at sea playing and eating and at dusk come in to their homes to sleep and feed their young.  We, along with 148 other people, paid the $20 to sit in the dark and wind and wait.  The seagulls provided quite a show while we were waiting-they were sitting (floating) on the top of the water and instinctively flew up back to calmer water every time a wave came in.  Most of the time.  Sometimes they just got drenched.  Then, one by one, little penguins were breaking the surface!  They would just float in and sit on the beach, let the water move them in and out of the shore a bit, finally get out, shake off, look around, and run back in the ocean!  It was so cute!  Then a few would come up, usually three at a time, go through these motions, and then waddle upshore to higher and safer ground.  We watched a few groups do this-usually of three or four.  We looked down the beach, where there were no lights and saw a massive group of the lil guys heading upshore.  We sat and watched until we got the warning that the lights were going to be turned off (probably when the majority of the penguins come in) and headed up from the shore.  We walked on a boardwalk that allowed the penguins and whatever other animals dwell there to move freely and saw more penguins waddling along.  Some just sat there, while others scratched their backs with their beaks.  They were so fuzzy looking-I just wanted to pick one up!  I was probably as vocally excited, if not more, to see these guys than most of the children around us.