Wanderings: Down Under
Here is the photo version of Wanderings: Down Under. A photo book with stories and narration of my travels in Australia and New Zealand is in the works. To read the text from the upcoming book, visit SaintProse.com.
View and purchase Wanderings: Down Under below.
The Beginning
It’s my dream to turn this blog into a book but I’ve long struggled with a beginning. As I’ve laid here tonight, stressing over my midterms in organic chemistry, biology and South Asia studies, I began facebooking my guide from the Red Center, Kate. That inspired me to read my Enter the Red Center post, which got me thinking about the blog and wishing I had time to finish it. Laying in bed at 2:00am spawned this. I think I like it.
“There you go,” the driver grunted, handing me my luggage. “Follow this pathway around the corner, take a left up the steps. Your doorway is the third on your right. Take the stairs to the top, apartment 61. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, I think I got it,” I muttered exhaustedly. I thanked him and he drove off.
I started rounding the pathway, stopped to look about and was hit with a 100-lb ball of reality to the chest. It was as though I was watching myself on a camera. It slowly began to zoom out, picking up speed. First a view of myself slumped over my luggage, then the apartment complex, the suburb of Marsfield, then city of Sydney, and finally Australia as a whole. I started to feel the 7500 miles of ocean between myself and those I loved-heck, those I knew.
Slideshow
The following slideshow took me FOREVER to put together, but I’m pretty proud at the way it turned out. Enjoy!
Mutitjula Water Hole-Uluru (Ayers Rock)
Mutitjula Water Hole-Uluru (Ayers Rock)
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
Mutitjula Water Hole-Uluru (Ayers Rock)
Mutitjula Water Hole-Uluru (Ayers Rock)
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
Goodbye
Less than an hour ago I said goodbye to Reese, and just a handful of hours ago I hung out with Kel for the last time (for a while). Later on tonight I’m heading to my final game of Ultimate.
Today was a good day, full of weighty goodbyes that set a slightly somber tone. I met Kel at the Mac Centre, as she was shopping for a few books for her trip to America. It was a most unceremonious goodbye; she rushed for the train, gave me a wonderful hug, too quick for emotion, and hopped on the carriage. She remarked that I would see her soon, and I believe her. I waved at her as the train lumbered out of the station, but she missed it, gazing at the floor as she rummaged through her things.
On the heels of her departure I caught a train to Epping, where I met up with Reese and his friend (now mine as well) Andy. They both ride trials, a bike riding sport that involves ‘navigating man-made and natural obstacles’ using only the tires of the bike. Reese wanted to get one last ride in before heading off to America tomorrow, and as time was running out for us to chill, invited me along.
He brought a bike along for me, and after departing the busy train station lugging that beast around, we road along the busy sidewalks, weaving in and out of business men and tourists alike. Over the Anzac Bridge, down into beautiful, clean Darling Harbour under a blazing sun, stupefying the notion that it was winter. The guys messed around on some concrete blocks, then proceeded to a wonderful area full of flowing water and fountains that they were promptly asked to vacate.
We ditched Darling Harbor for a park near Hyde Park, a ‘water garden’ beneath the spires of St. Mary’s Cathedral. Reese was determined to drop from a 15-foot rock fountain onto a metal electrical box, but due to the fact he was flying out to America the next day, smartly decided against it. We grabbed slurpees, then elbowed and pushed our way onto a train carriage at peak hour, bikes and all. I had a man pinned to the wall with my handle bars, it was quite the awkward experience.
The carriage began to thin out as we got further and further from the city. It was difficult to comprehend that this would be the last time I would be seeing Reese for an indefinite amount of time. As the train lumbered to a stop at the Eastwood Station, I knew I had less than five minutes remaining. Standing up, I reached out to Reese, shaking his hand. I thanked him for showing me around Sydney and all he had done for me. Then, reaching Epping, I gave a half-wave and disembarked, the train leaving me behind. And that’s my last memory of Reese Toase.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
These two people, Kel and Reese, were absolutely instrumental in my happiness and broad range of experiences in Australia. I met a multitude of friends through them both, and they led me on many wonderful escapades. They helped me achieve my true goal of this experience-assimilating with Australian culture.
Kookaburra sitting in an old gum tree
Kookaburra sitting in an old gum tree
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
Homecoming
Tonight is my last night in Australia. I’m all out of my room, with all my stuff in a corner. My flight takes off tomorrow at 2:45pm on July 10th, and arrives in Eugene, Oregon at 2:45pm on July 10th. No joke. Tonight should be chill, after last night: a chill free dinner with Ashleigh, then going to a little party at a gallery in Newtown.
Last night was a doozy. Tiger held a little going-away party at his place in Newport. Way too much alcohol and a crazy drinking game that I lost, but good people…great people. I’m going to miss them all. Ugh, and I missed Mona today, no face-to-face goodbye…
Ok, here’s a NOTE-
The blog will not end when I get back in Eugene. I have many things to write about that I haven’t had time to finish…trip to Melbourne, goodbyes, hang out at Reese’s, and a few others. Also, I’m kinda serious about putting together a photo/blog book with big glossy pictures and a few stories. I don’t know where that will go, but you should always dream. Alright, this is my last physical post from Australia (though I have many partial posts that I will finish when in Eugene.) Alright, I don’t really know how to sign off here from Australia for the last time…so here’s my usual…
I’m OUT
Twelve Apostles
Twelve Apostles
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
Victoria, Australia along the Great Ocean Road
Wild Koala
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
wild koala along the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, Australia.
The Red Center-Uluṟu and Kata Tjuta
No morning beginning at 5am can be a good morning, but the day’s prospects made it bareable. The itinerary for today was to watch sunset at Kings Canyon, walk up and down and through the canyon, then off to Uluṟu for sunset.
I awoke to the rustling of sleeping bags and swags and immediately the light ribbing began. Apparently I had snored with immense volume and kept Conny up for a portion of the night. Kate and Roelof (who was in his shelter on the other side of the campsite) heard me snoring as well. I usually feel terrible for snoring and keeping people up, but this time I just decided to apologize, tell them to wake me up next time and move on.
I stumbled into the shelter for a quick breakfast: cereal, a few peices of toast and fruit. Apparently I was quite the sight at 5 in the morning, I kept getting laughs at my appearance and drunken-like behavior.
We wouldn’t be returning to the camp, so I gathered my things and got to the van as quickly as I could-which wasn’t quick enough. I was the last person again and felt like such an idiot rushing around with my bags and all; I hate holding people up.
We headed off back along the bumpy and rough road, serenaded by the Beatles singing “good day sunshine”. Before long we were at the base of Kings Canyon, though as it was still dark only a faint siloutte of the canyon walls could be made out.
The first part of the King’s Canyon walk was the most strenuous, a somewhat precarious and steep set of rock stairs that is commonly known as ‘Heart Attack Hill’. We rose probably 100 metres in two minutes. Conny, Jeanette and myself stayed with the group for the first bit, then broke away and took the climb at our own pace.
Brett and I on our way up Heart Attack Hill
We reached the top out of breath (I guess I should speak for myself) but were rewarded with a slight but vivid tinge of purplish-pink coloring the clouds.
As we lounged on the rim of King’s Canyon the purple clouds soon intensified as our surroundings became illuminated. The rest of the group caught up and we pushed on, hiking over the sandstone. At certain points Kate would stop to point out certain things of interest: geology, Aboriginal practices, animal behaviors and interesting plants.
It was absolutely amazing up there. After climbing a bit we came to ‘the flats’, a place where one could see the stone all laid out in front of oneself. It truly felt as though we were on Mars. Orangey-red rocks and sand surrounded us, it was all we could see. That and blue skies above.
We came to the edge of the canyon a few times, which gave us views for what felt like hundreds of miles. The walls of the canyon were sheer, dropping nearly 300 metres straight down. It reminded me of Angel’s Landing, a rock formation in Zion National Park in Utah, except much less intense.
Conny, Jeanette and I
There was one instance that I’ll never forget, and now looking back on it it seems as though it brought Conny, Jeanette, Brett, Roelof and myself together, gelled us, through somewhat crude humor. We were all standing together, taking in the beautiful sights before us. I had my hand on my camera, which was around my neck and resting low on my midriff. As I turned I accidentally hit the shutter button, taking a quick shot. “Oh!” I exclaimed, surprising myself. Conny looked at me and quipped, “That happens sometimes.” I looked at the two guys, then back at Conny and Jeanette with a slight smile on my face, and we all cracked up with howling laughter. Sustained laughter continued for nearly a minute, and when we tried to explain why we were in such a state it just rendered blank looks. It was a ‘you had to be there’ moment.
We continued on, only stopping to gaze at a pygmy koala in a tree overhead. Our path led us down a cascade of steps into the canyon, a place called the ‘Garden of Eden,’ a lush and green oasis where a permanent water hole resided, something quite special for a place as dry as outback Australia. It was a transition from desolate rock with a few scraggly ghost gums to a cool and shady sanctuary of thick trees and bushes, a few ducks, and the twittering of birds.
Following the path down through the canyon we came to the water hole, a large pool skirted on one side by rock, where thirty or so fellow tourists were lounging. Beyond the pool of water rose a sheer rock wall, the canyon’s edge, dark red rock with streaks of black. We found a place in the corner and rested for a few minutes, munching on biscuits that Kate had packed. It was incredibly peaceful even though we were anything but alone. Just the knowledge that we were in the middle of a desert, an arid desert, yet next to a lush natural garden and pond was profound; it was truly spectacular.
Retracing our footsteps out of the canyon, then up another cascade of stairs, we found ourselves on the othe side of the canyon. A few of us relieved ourselves, then we continued on our way. (Normally I wouldn’t bring up such crude details, but there’s something somewhat noteworthy about leaving ones mark on such a wonderful and spectacular land. It’s right up there with urinating in the Steens Mountains in Oregon!)
We continued on along the canyon, admiring the incredible day we had been blessed with. About 65º with overcast skies: incredibly comfortable for hiking, and superb photographic conditions. Along the way Kate pointed out ripples in the rock, which she explained were actually from the ocean 300 million years ago. Apparently this was all at one time the ocean floor. That put things into perspective! She also showed us a shell fossil in the the rock-pretty incredible.
The shell fossil
The rock formations were extraordinary. Smooth and rolling rock, humps of rock, jagged edges-the only unifying characteristic was the deep, Martian red. Contrasted against the blue skies with swirling clouds: breathless.
On this Kings Canyon sightseeing tour I began to hang out and speak more with Jeanette. I had spoken pretty much exclusively with Conny before this, but for some reason felt attracted to Jeanette and began to initiate more conversations with her. I had developed a pretty strong, obvious, yet unfortunate crush. I say unfortunate because I would have a little over 24 hours remaining with her. I say obvious because after dropping me off at the airport in Ayers Rock, the remaining crew headed back to Alice Springs where they went out drinking. Apparently they spoke of how obvious and cute my crush on Jeanette was. Guess I don’t do anything quietly…
We arrived back at the van at a little after ten and decided to postpone lunch, instead pushing on to Yulara, the tourist/resort town on the outskirts of Uluṟu – Kata Tjuṯa National Park. It was a drive of a little over two hours, with most of us electing to sleep. I actually missed a dingo sighting because I was asleep, then failed to see the wild kangaroo Brett had spotted. I still think he was making things up…
As a surprise to us all, it began to rain. It was quite comforting to me, actually, and wasn’t that surprising. But with the knowledge of where we were, it was pretty crazy. Through the mist and fog we made out a faint landmark in the distance, a body of land we mistook as Uluṟu-turns out it was Mt. Connor. It looked like a mountain with the head chopped off, quite an interesting sight.
We finally arrived in the town of Yulara with Kate remarking how ‘funny’ it was that we couldn’t see Uluṟu due to the rain and clouds. The rest of us didn’t really find it funny. After check-in we made it to our temporary residence, another permanent campsite, much in the same fashion as the previous night’s. I had been incredibly angsty ever since I had seen the rain, fearing that we would miss Uluṟu. Kate assured me that we would see it as paths go right up to the rock. Blue sky also began to melt away the clouds, and my excitement began to skyrocket.
After lunch we settled in to the campsite a bit. Kate was alerted by a fellow ranger that there was possibly a waterfall at the Mutitjula Water Hole, so we all piled in the van and set off. She was very eager and excited, remarking to us that she had only seen waterfalls on Uluṟu once before. This was significant, as Kate had been giving tours for about eight months.
We zoomed along the road towards the great rock, and gradually it began to appear. It was quite the ominous sight. It’s girth was incredibly massive, three and a half football fields across. Clouds leeched onto the top of Uluṟu, creating the illusion that it rose forever. We kept on driving closer and closer, getting to the point where it took up the entire view of the window.
First sight of Uluru
Hopping out of the van, we were greeted with a damp, fresh air. The sky was still gray, and Uluṟu stood in front of us like an ancient monolith. The spirituality of the rock was palpable; it gave one a hushed and reflective feeling, an air of seriousness and profundity. And, as I remarked before, the veiling of the clouds made it all the more mysterious, even daunting to explore. These feelings cannot be reproduced, it’s like nothing I have ever felt before. I only feel slight whisps of it looking at certain photographs and video. It was truly stunning.
Giddiness enveloped me as we began to saunter down the path towards the sight of the prospective waterfall. Since my first year of high school I had learned of the majesty of this place, and I was finally here! It was difficult to comprehend, and still is.
We made our way along the path, then onto a boardwalk and to the final viewing area at the Mutitjula Water Hole at the end of the Kuniya walk. There was an immense amount of people in a small area, and it was quite obvious that water was flowing down Uluṟu. In front of us was a large pool of fresh, newly-stirred water contained in part by a backdrop of Uluṟu. From the top a good amount of water was flowing down, collecting in one area, then bubbling over and continuing on to the pool below. It was a profound sight, such beauty due to water in a usually bone-dry climate. We were told that it only rains a few times a year at Uluṟu, and we were lucky enough to be there for one of them.
The spiritual, sacred feeling was very strong at this place, the Mutitjula Water Hole. Recollections of the feeling bring a warm and contented feeling to my soul. (It’s hard not to sound melodramatic explaining the spirituality of a place…these are my true feelings.) This was another permanent water pool, yet at this time full to the brim. We snapped a few pictures, (well, I snapped like 200 or so…) then returned for the bus.
Before reaching the bus we made a detour at an area along the walk. Kate led us into a cave, and when our eyes adjusted we were met with what first seemed like elementary scribbles on the rock, but which turned out to be symbolic Aboriginal rock art. How astounding! She explained the different symbols, how they made their ‘ink’, and the different stories the drawings told. They were unprotected, just there. What a window to the past!
Our next stop was the culture center, where we learned of the religious and cultural significance of Uluṟu. It also explained their wishes against tourists, or anyone for that matter, climbing Uluṟu. During my first lessons on Uluṟu in the sixth grade I was told that it wasn’t right to climb Uluṟu, but my Aussie friends had made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal, as most had climbed it. The cultural center helped to solidify my desire to refrain from climbing.
The Anangu people, the Aboriginal tribe that resides at Uluṟu, says that they don’t judge those who climb it. They say it is each person’s decision, and they respect that. I, however, do judge. I think it’s deeply disrespectful and completely misses the point of what Uluṟu is all about. You don’t climb the Wailing Wall. You don’t wear a baseball cap into the Sistine Chapel. There are just certain things you don’t do.
None of us in the group wanted to climb it, except for Terry. Kate explained that usually Asians are the majority of those who climb Uluṟu. It’s not due to disrespect, but more of a lack of understanding. Apparently tour groups in Asia promote Uluṟu as a rock you climb, it’s just a thing they expect to do. Also, in their defense, the explanation that solidified my resolve to refrain from climbing the rock wasn’t translated into Korean, or Japanese, or Mandarin. It’s just a misunderstanding. And anyways, due to the wind and the water climbing was shut down-Terry didn’t get the option.
At this point the clouds had completely receded from Uluṟu, taking up their usual posts in the night sky. Our van headed towards a popular tourist area for the nightly Uluṟu tradition of sipping champagne (sparkling wine) and watching the sun set, painting the rock in all different shades of orangey-yellow.
We found our own little space away from all the crowds and Kate poured us glasses of wine while I set up my tripod. As the sun drifted behind the rock it was as if Uluṟu was lit from the inside. It glowed dark orange, which turned into a brilliant yellow, then back to an orange-gold hue. For those of you who scoff at the notion that the rock ‘changes colors’, it’s hard to explain without sounding mystical and spiritual. Just know that it truly glows vibrant shades of orange and yellow. Amazing.
Jeanette, Conny and I
The group
I got a few stunning shots of the rock, I was quite proud. After many a group photo the show was over. We were all energized and excited from such a magnificent experience, and ‘partied’ all the way back to the camp site.
These Adventure Tours are usually planned for group sizes in their twenties. Our group was made up of ten people including the tour guide-but the amount of supplies stayed constant. Which means we had many a bottle of wine. I had two or three glasses during sunset, then two at dinner and one at the campfire.
The night turned into a laughing fest as a few others in the group were a bit drunk as well. We were told that one of the managers of Adventure Tours would visit us and tell an Aboriginal dreamtime story. We were all pretty excited about it, but as it turned out it wasn’t much more than a man mumbling and drawing in the dirt with a stick. We were all giggling and cracking jokes just out of earshot of him-it was like we were in grade school again. I sat there numb, happy, giggly and warm, sharing the moment with good friends and a few others who joined us from another campsite.
I didn’t realize how drunk I was until I got up to go to the bathroom, and walked through a bench, knocking it over. (In my defense it was dark.) I walked in a zig-zag to the bathroom, my head in a haze, then crawled in my sleeping bag. I was so wonderfully warm, calm, and relaxed. I drifted off to sleep quickly, smoothly…
–ζ——δ——ζ–
Morning came once again too quickly, however this time I was immediately bitten by the frigid air of the desert morning. We all scrambled around in the dark to pack our things and get breakfast, then hopped on the bus to catch the sunrise. I was tired and my hair all greasy and mussed, but felt no effects from the previous night’s indulgences.
Kate dropped us off at the base of Uluṟu under the darkness of night, a few rays of fire marking the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise. Instead of watching the sunrise from a viewing point, Kate told us that the most stunning views would be seen during the base walk. It was still frigid and a biting wind had started up, but it would not deter us from the special moment.
The route
As Uluṟu is incredibly sacred, there were many sites and areas around the base that were cordoned off, forbidding anyone from entering the area or even to take pictures (enforced by a hefty fine-entering the site can put you back $5000 AUD). Reasoning behind this is that many of these areas are either men’s sacred sites or women’s sacred sites. The Anangu are afraid that if pictures are taken then the opposite sex may accidentally view them, a violation of their code.
I was messing with Jeanette about filming a sacred site, (which I wasn’t), and she attempted to grab the camera…haha.
The rock turned from a dark silhouette into a dark orange, then a bright yellow. The walk took us nearly around the entire rock, lasting two hours and about 7 kilometers. It took us through a high-desert-like environment to just plain desert, then through to a wooden meadow area, sprinkled with ghost gums that seemed like a wetland. The diversity was mindblowing, how a single rock could create such a plethora of environments.
After the walk, which took us past the smoothness, jaggedness, caves and sheer walls of Uluru, it was time to leave this special place and explore Kata Tjuta (Kata Joota).
Last views of Uluru
Kata Tjuta is one of the most spiritually significant places in all of Indigenous Australian culture, more significant than Uluru. (NOTE-Aborigines from here on will be referred to as Indigenous Australians, as this is the more politically-correct terminology.) It is a men’s sacred site, meaning that no Indigenous Australian women have ever visited it. It is made up of 36 domes, with the tallest 546 meters (1791 ft.), over 200 meters higher than Uluru. The white man’s name for Kata Tjuta is The Olgas.
The ride was about a half-hour, and before long the domes poked up over the scraggly brush. We neglected to stop at a viewing area (and a little bit of me died…), but we pushed on to a parking lot at the base of two of the domes. The plan was to hike in the valley between the domes. The hike was pretty easy, up a rocky path, but it was incredibly windy and threatened to steal my bush hat more than once.
This is not my picture...
From pictures the domes may seem small, but they are anything but. As we entered the valley we were dwarfed by the sheer sides of the domes. They were dark orangey-red, like most things in the red center, with a few holes and imperfections.
The trail led us through what seemed like a rocky wasteland into a lush, green oasis; a place with damp air and a sense of great fertility, and a small stream trickling through.
I asked Kate about the ‘Tie me kangaroo down sport’ song, and she commented that it was blatantly racist, with the lines:
Let me abos go loose
They’re of no further use, Lew
So let me abos go loose’.
After a quick lunch at the campsite we packed up all our things and headed to the airport. First we dropped off Yung and Terry at a hostel in Yularra, then Helen and I were dropped off at the Ayers Rock airport. Saying goodbye to the group was incredibly difficult, as I didn’t know if I would see any of them ever again. I shook hands with Roelof and Brett, hugged Conny and Jeanette and said goodbye to Kate and Simona. I got a sore throat, the beginnings of choking up, but pressed through. I waved goodbye to the van and headed in to the airport, just making the plane.
While I sat there, gazing at Uluru from the sky, I thought about the intense and profound relationships we all had cultivated within the past 60 hours or so. I genuinely love those folks on the tour; I’ve chatted quite a bit with Kate and Jeanette over the internet and am planning on having dinner with Roelof and Brett when I visit Melbourne next week. The trip was absolutely amazing, truly one of the highlights of my time here down under. I will never forget those people, or the amazing sights and feelings we all experienced together.
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The Changing Colors of Uluṟu
Photos by the author
Shrouded by clouds
Sunset
Sunset
Sunset
Sunset
Sunrise
Sunrise
Red Center Vids
During our tour of the Red Center one of our mates, Roelof from Melbourne, periodically took pictures and video. Last week I received a DVD in the mail, an incredible gift that brings back the feelings and emotions of that wonderful time. Here are those videos below, hope you enjoy!
Abortion-Mike Huckabee-The Daily Show
Caught Mike Huckabee on the Daily Show. I would have to say that I deeply respect this man, though I don’t think him in the White House would be a good idea. Here he and Jon discuss the abortion issue. This is how it should be discussed, and I found the videos pretty compelling…
Mussels and Chocolate ‘Roos
Another wonderful night in one of the world’s greatest cities. I took my flatmates out (well, directed them towards. I most definitely didn’t pay for their meals!) to the Belgian Bier Cafe for half-price mussel night. This was my fourth time on such a night, my third successful, and the deliciousness had not dissapated one bit! 1 kilo of gourmet mussels for roughly $12 ain’t bad, and with a huge assortment of Belgian beers, is there anywhere else one would rather be on a Wednesday night? I have my favorite raspberry beer-yeah, maybe a women’s drink, but man is it good.
The mates loved it, with Heat eating roughly one and a half kilos due to Jenya filling up quickly. We had to break it to Heat that we weren’t all that in to going out for karaoke, that was a terrible sight. He looked at us incredulously, and pouted for a few hours.
Jenya was craving chocolate, so we went for a stroll in the Rocks to see if we could get her a cocoa fix. We bumped into a random Belgian chocolate cafe, and it was fantastic seeing the sheer joy it brought to Jenya. She let out a little scream and jumped a bit, running towards the door.
Ah, how good was that dessert!? I had vanilla ice cream with freshly melted Belgian chocolate and whip cream, and Jenya ordered an ice cream sampler along with a chocolate cake. (She doesn’t mess around!) Such a good find, that place was!
We polished off our chocolate and headed towards the train station. It was around 8:00 so we thought we might have a chance to catch the second half of the Japan vs. Australia soccer match. It was a match to decide the best in Asia, and as Heat is Japanese and I am now a fervent Socceroos fan, we knew it would be a great game to watch together.
We peered into a pub and to our joy saw the match on the tele. Heat and I looked at each other, then excitedly asked Jenya and Vasya if they were up to watch the game in the pub. Vasya is a huge fan of soccer so it wasn’t a difficult sell.
Ordering a coke and a beer, we sat ourselves in front of the big screen and lost ourselves in the action. Japan broke the game open with a goal in the first half, shattering the streak of no-goals-allowed that had lasted the entire World Cup Qualifying run, seven games in total.
Australia was once again lackluster in the first half, but I remarked to Heat that the Socceroos were usually quite strong after the break. Two goals by Timmy Cahill sealed the victory for the Socceroos, giving them the Asian crown.
What another amazing and rich cultural experience. Moaning with the other Aussies and watching the Japanese fans, along with Heat, explode during the first goal, then hollering and pumping my fist with the same crowd for Australia’s goals-it was as if I was no longer an outsider. Ah, what an incredible night. Thanks Oz!
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I tried for literally over an hour to get this video to work…and I couldn’t get it pasted onto the blog. It’s a really good vid of the game, a recap, and can be found HERE.
Tim Cahill scores second-half double to lift Socceroos past Japan in Melbourne
By Sam Lienert
June 17, 2009
Socceroos star Tim Cahill relived his 2006 World Cup heroics with two second half goals against Japan to ensure Australia ended their qualifying campaign for South Africa 2010 in triumph.An Australian team missing numerous first-choice players won 2-1 at the, meaning they went unbeaten through the eight games of their final phase of qualifying and stayed ahead of Japan at the top of their group to earn Asian bragging rights.
Cahill, who scored the first two goals in Australia’s World Cup history to spark a famous 3-1 comeback victory over Japan in Germany in 2006, was again the shining light for the Socceroos against the Blue Samurai.
Coach Pim Verbeek lauded his players and Cahill in particular, who scored a brilliant header in the 59th minute to erase a 1-0 halftime deficit, then scored the winner in the 76th.
“Timmy is a great player, If you see the work he is doing for the team, defensively, always supporting the strikers, so dangerous in the penalty box,” Verbeek said.
“The first goal was fantastic, what a great goal that was.
“It’s fantastic for the team to have a player like that.”
While both sides were already guaranteed World Cup qualification, Cahill’s second half heroics gave an MCG crowd of 69,238 plenty to cheer about.
Verbeek said the team had also sent a “statement to the rest of Asia and probably the rest of the world” by topping their qualification group by five points.
There had been precious few moments for the green and gold army to cheer before the break, with Japan’s Tulio Tanaka scoring in the 40th minute.
It broke a seven-game streak of clean sheets for Socceroos’ goalkeeper Mark Schwarzer, who had spent his previous 670 minutes in goal without conceding.
But the rare blot on their defensive copybook stirred the Socceroos into life after the break and they attacked constantly in the opening stages of the second half, leading to Cahill’s breakthrough.
“I’m very proud of the players,” Verbeek said.
“At the end of a very long and tough season they still had the power and the courage to fight back from 1-0 down in the first half.
“Great goals of course from Timmy. I think the players did very well until the last second.”
Cahill leapt above two Japanese defenders at the left side of the box to connect with a long-range Vince Grella free kick for the first goal.
It seemed to inspire him to press even harder, getting onto the end of several promising attacking moves in the following minutes.
The winner came when a Nicky Carle corner kick from the right side floated over a pack of players in the box and Cahill, lurking at the back, got enough of his right leg to the ball to send it home.
It was his 16th goal in 33 internationals and he was later given a huge ovation as he walked to the bench in the 86th minute, having once again lifted Australia to a comeback victory over Japan.
From http://www.foxsports.com.au/story/0,8659,25652756-23215,00.html
Day with Kel
This past week my good friend Kel took me on a wonderful beach tour. She was just horrified that the only beach I had visited was Bondi, and took it upon herself to expose me to some of Sydney’s northern beaches. It was a weekend of track work so I had to catch a few busses to get out to Hornsby, but it was well worth it.
First we visited West Head, a nice little beach area in Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park with a viewpoint that looked over the ocean, with multitudes of sail boats gliding along the water. We walked down through the bush, then reached the beach. The tide was in so we had to perch ourselves atop rocks, but it was beautiful and serene nevertheless.
Where we chilled
We then headed towards Mona Vale Beach. Kel improv’ed the drive there, and took us on one of the most beautiful roads I have experienced here in Australia. It wound around the bay, with sail boats docked off to our left and a lush, green hillside to our right. Quite stunning.
Mona Vale Beach was quite a sight. Kel parked on a hill with a luxurious golf course to our right which abutted to the beach. We chilled on the sand for a bit, talking and watching the surfers. What a pleasant time!
The golf course
All in all, it was a wonderful day, another highlight of my trip. I value these sorts of experiences over things like clubbing, seeing the Opera House or even going on a harbor cruise. These are real experiences, a ‘day in the life’ sort of thing. Again, I see my objective of being here to assimilate, not simply be a tourist. And that’s exactly what Kel gave me. Thanks girl!
“15 Step”-Radiohead+USC Marching Band-2009 Grammy Awards
This has got to be one of my favorite performances of all time. Radiohead performing with the USC Trojans marching band. Incredible.
This video is the property of CBS (CBS Broadcasting Corp.). I reserve no copyrights to this video, and I do not own it or have any part the making of it. I merely think it is freaking awesome.
Raining on the Rock
During my tour in the Red Center our tour guide Kate would play songs over the PA in the van that were appropriate for certain situations. When we arrived to Uluru it was raining, rendering an absolutely breathless sight and atmosphere. She then played the song below. It’s impossible to feel what we felt without being there, but maybe this will bring you a bit closer…
AUS vs. Bahrain
I have already written an extensive post on my experience at the Australia vs. Uzbekistan game, which can be found here, so this will be more of a summary/pictures. Enjoy.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
Last night Heat, Vasya and myself trekked from North Ryde to Olympic Park for the FIFA World Cup Qualifier Australia vs. Bahrain soccer match. Much of the significance had been lost due to Australia already booking its ticket to South Africa with a draw against Qatar the previous week, but it was still an enjoyable game with nearly 40,000 Aussies braving the frigid weather (it was around 50ºF, plus wind). The first half was relatively slow and nearly boring, but, as we saw in the AUSvsUzbekistan game, the ‘roos really brought it in the second half, closing Bahrain out 2-0 amongst a multitude of “Aussie Aussie Aussie/Oi Oi Oi!” chants. Below are pictures from the night, a video of both goals and a news article.
Vasya and I
Verbeek content with weakened Socceroos
From ABC.net.au
Slideshow: Photo 2 of 2
Culina does an overhead kick (Getty Images: Matt King)
Australian coach Pim Verbeek says he was happy the way his different-looking side worked its way to a 2-0 World Cup qualifier win over Bahrain in Sydney last night.
A crowd of just under 40,000 welcomed the Socceroos home for their first game since qualifying for next year’s finals in South Africa.
There were seven changes to the strong starting team that secured a World Cup spot with a goalless draw in Doha.
In the end, second half goals from Mile Sterjovski and David Carney gave Australia the win after a frustrating opening 40 minutes.
Verbeek says it was not easy for his team to play to its full potential.
“If you see the amount of new players we had to bring in,” he said.
“If you consider the long trip back from Qatar, the jet-lag. We know we were qualified already so you still have to get mentally back in the right shape to perform.”
“Then I can only say the only thing we didn’t do was score more goals.”
Verbeek said he was still planning on fielding a strong side for the final qualifier against Japan in Melbourne.
The coach said he was keen to get senior players like Tim Cahill back in the side next weekend.
“Josh Kennedy will be ready. Timmy was too risky today but will be ready next week,” he said.
“That’s also the reason why I saved Grella. I didn’t want him to pick up a yellow card because I need him next week.”
“So if you look for the players who are still available I think we can make a very strong team next week.”
One player sure to be there will be goalkeeper Mark Schwarzer, who extended his run of international games without conceding a goal last night as he assumed the captaincy for the suspended Lucas Neill.
The Fulham custodian has gone nine games without conceding a goal for the Socceroos and is closing in on Italy’s Dino Zoff’s international record of more than 12 clean sheets.
But Schwarzer says he wasn’t aware that he was close to a world record.
“I knew obviously we broke the Australian record. And as far as we’re concerned we want to continue that run regardless of whether that’s going to beat the world record,” he said.
“It’s a sense of amazing self-pride amongst all the boys that we can go into crucial games, World Cup qualifiers and not concede goals. That’s an unbelievable foundation to have.”
…
This blog needs to turn away a bit from the whole ‘Travel Log’ thing that it has become. Those posts take me so long and consume me; it keeps me from writing anything else. At the moment I’m sitting on the couch in a quiet, sterile apartment, my head in a haze from over-sleeping and under-exercising. Finals are coming up for me and I literally haven’t gotten as far as checking the due date of my first paper, which is either this Monday or the next. When studying is on my plate, inevitably depression is as well. Studying feels like such a waste to me. I know, that’s such a teenage-angsty way to look at it, but it really feels that way. Jumping through these irrelevant hoops just seems ridiculously trivial, and just acts as a catalyst to plummet my seemingly-fragile wellbeing.
Also constantly on my plate and mind is the reality that I will soon be leaving the dear and close friends that I have made here. For some reason I never thought I would form such incredibly intense bonds during this time, but for some reason inexplicable to me I have. They are like brothers, sisters, and my roommates aunts, uncles, even parental figures. The thought of never seeing many of these people ever again is one that I cannot grasp, but one that rationally I know is based in fact. I will see many of these people again, but many others, I know, will only remain a memory.
I haven’t seen Mona in two weeks due to school sputtering to a halt. Reese and I see each other sparingly, and a few days that we had been talking about spending at his place before he flew to America in late June now seem like they might not come to fruition. I haven’t seen Dulce in a while, and Ryan and I are for some reason relegated only to conversing around class periods. It is as if the transition has already begun.
However, thankfully but also prospectively painfully I have made two new friends, or rather gotten closer to previous acquaintances: Ashleigh, a close friend of Reese’s, and Kel, a friend from frisbee. Ashleigh and I have been hanging out pleasantly frequently in the past two weeks, taking in Angels and Demons and going to the city for an art exhibition, among other things. Kel and I have been hanging out between and after school, and she’s been planning on taking me on a bush walk and a tour of a few northern beaches. Why these relationships had to begin a month before I was to leave the country I will forever be curious of.
People ask me if I’m excited to go home, and its a question that can’t really be answered by a simple, ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I’m excited to get back to see the friends and family that I’ve desperately missed, to congratulate and rejoice with a future cousin and meet my new ‘nephew’. I’m excited to move back in with the BUX307 boys and virtually live with the Corvallis girls again. I’m excited to talk and take in football and basketball with Dad, and help Mom in the garden. I can’t wait to cuddle Charlie and be enthralled with his exploratory personality. And I have wildly missed the family parties and gatherings, a place where I can truly be at ease.
All of this comes, however, with the trading in of my present life, the life that I have come to form here in Sydney. I feel as though I have swashbuckled my way into these people’s lives, and I will soon swing back out, leaving a hole of ‘what once was’. And along with me leaving a hole, they will keep parts of me, an act that will undoubtedly force me to return and continue to carry on with people who at this point, and undoubtedly more intensely in the future, seem like dreams, a reality that just could not, cannot be true.
In short, I’m excited to go back, yes. I’m excited for the friends and family and comfort of home, but I’m not excited for the monotonous life that I fear will resume mere months after I land in Eugene. And I fear going back because I fear that I may not return whole, that I’ll be caught between this dream I’ve been living these past four months and the reality that is Oregon.
This post was supposed to help me get everything out there, all on the table, and make me feel better. It’s just left me more unsettled than before. Oh, and I’m sure it will just read like a bunch of melodramatic crap that some whiny twerp sitting in his apartment in Sydney threw together in a desperate attempt at attention. But it’s what’s inside of me. Take it or leave it.
Shrouded Uluru
Shrouded Uluru
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
A rare sight of Uluru shrouded in the clouds…
ENTER: The Red Center
I groggily awoke from a haphazard nap; a slumber that was constantly at war with the roar of twin jet-engines. Peering out of my window I glimpsed an orange wasteland spread out below me, off into the distance as far as the eye could see. It was ‘a rich and inspiring nothing’: no trees, no lakes, no rivers, and no buildings. Small patches of clouds dotted the tundra, their shadows slightly offset, playing on the desert floor. It was a duotone landscape, orange transforming abruptly but smoothly into blue; desert to sky. I had caught my first glimpse of the ‘real Australia’, a place known as the Red Center.
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After a hurried morning of waking at 5:30, missing the train I was hoping to get, then finally arriving at the Domestic Airport at 8:20, I finally boarded my flight to Alice Springs, Northern Territory, Australia. I had been looking forward to this trip for a few weeks, and couldn’t wait to get out of the city and to the outback. On the itinerary was one night in Alice Springs, then Kings Canyon, Uluru and Kata Tjuta. The last two are the most sacred sights in Aboriginal culture/religion, and Uluru is often called ‘The Heart of Australia’ and has come to be a symbol of the nation.
Two and a half hours later the plane touched down in sunny, flat and dry Alice Springs. The place was crawling with flies, annoying little buggers that would buzz straight to the face. It was a constant battle to deflect them. I withdrew some money for a taxi and noticed that my balance was $90. I freaked out, found the nearest computer with internet and confirmed that the balance shown by the ATM was incorrect. This sort of needless financial freakout would continue to dog me for the remainder of my time in the Red Center.
I found that there was a shuttle to my accomodations, so I grabbed a piece of pavement by the van and continued to battle the flies. After 45 excruciating minutes of waiting for a plane to land from Cairns (pronounced Cans), I boarded the shuttle that would take us all to Haven Backpackers Resort. I say ‘excruciating’ because during the whole time I was waiting the same little rant kept going through my head: “I’m only in Alice Springs until tomorrow morning, its 1:30pm already and the shops will close by 5:30, AT LEAST! Ugh, this trip cost SO much and it’s all slipping away, as I’m baking at the damn airport being eaten by flies…”
I took my seat on the shuttle and the driver hopped in, jumped over the front seat to face us and asked us where we all were from. Some said Sydney, others Melbourne, yet others Cairns. “FUCK those places”, he proclaimed. “This is the REAL Australia!” Soon I came to find out how right he was. (I feel it important to not censor the previous profanity, in that it no doubt will shock you, much in the same way it shocked me. Also, it is important to note that profanity here is no big deal, as it sometimes is in the states. My friends say profanities around their parents, bosses, etc., and as long as it is not the “F” word, is acceptable…)
We arrived at the hostel, and after fifteen or so minutes of waiting to check in I finally reached the counter. I got much praise for last name, as everyone here absolutely loves it, and received my room key. After a few failed attempts I finally managed to get it to work, and opened up the door to my accomodations for the night: four seperate bunk beds in a single room, co-ed, with a single bathroom and shower. This would be quite interesting.
The accomodation itself, Haven Backpacker Resort, was a wonderful place to stay. It probably had around 70 or so rooms of up to eight beds apiece situated on two levels. Internet, free breakfast, a pool and spa, it was loaded! The rooms also had their own bathrooms with showers. Oh, and a large kitchen-I only used it for breakfast though.
I threw on some shorts, as it was nearly eighty degrees outside, and hurried towards town.
As I passed through town I saw my first Aboriginal people. I had seen Aborigines before at Circular Quay playing didgeridoos, but for some reason I really didn’t consider it a geniune experience. Not that they aren’t genuinely Aboriginal, but that the experiece is somewhat cheapened because them being there is all for tourists and profit. It was a compelling experience in that I was among relatives of the first proprietors of the land; the original Australians. I felt as though I was seeing celebrities whenever I saw one!
They are a truly fascinating people. (I’m afraid of writing the following things, as I’m worried it will be viewed as racist. It’s not meant that way, I have no contempt towards the Aboriginal people.) Their features are stunning, but I am finding them indescribable. They look as though they are an ancient people (which they are…but we are too…). And the combination of dark skin with naturally blond hair is striking.
Also, another thing that was extraordinary, in my opinion, was the smell of the Aboriginals-a body odor that was…different, unexplicable. Now, at first glance this seems derogatory, but one must move away from the ethnocentric ideal that the norm is cleanliness and an abscence of body odor. After walking around in Alice for the day I became familiar with the smell. Then, as I walked back towards town for some dinner later in the day I found myself zoning out and staring at the ground. I caught a whiff of the familiar smell and immediately thought, “Aborigines.” I looked up and barely made out three dark figures about fifty feet in front of me. As I passed them I discovered my olfactory sense was right.
It was sad, however, because many of the Aborigines I saw were inebriated or sitting around and drinking alcohol (during the day), or just wandering about, seemingly homeless. It seems as though I was seeing first-hand the effects of colonisation. If one builds their whole existence on the land, and that land is seized, how can one recover?
(An interesting juxtaposition: as I was walking into town I passed a small hill with a ‘City of Alice Springs’ sign pointing out that it was a sacred Aboriginal site. Beyond the sign I saw an old, haggard Aboriginal man take a last swig out of his beer bottle and toss it to the ground. I then looked to my left and saw a K-Mart…)
Now, I should note that these observations should NOT form my opinion of all Aboriginals or any of my readers opinions of all Aboriginals; this is merely what I experienced in Alice Springs.
Downtown Alice Springs is made up of maybe 6 to eight short streets; four streets crossing four. Main downtown, however, is essentially one pedestrian-only road lined with tourist shops, cafes, a bookstore, and Aboriginal art galleries, terminating with a shopping mall. There were Aboriginals panhandling along the street, playing some tunes on an old, beat-up guitar and a handful of others trying to sell their artwork. I grabbed a quick lunch at a cafe and perused the downtown area, stepping into an Aboriginal art gallery and continuing my quest for the surf shop I had heard so much about.
The Surf Shop!
Alice Springs is not an awesome town, or even a beautiful town, in my opinion. But it is a culturally-significant town, one that must be visited. I only had roughly six hours to experience it, which was enough, but I am so glad I was able to spend time there. The things that stick out the most are visiting a legitimate Aussie cowboy/rancher outfitters, mingling with the Aboriginals, and the knowledge that I was in the center of this great country, in outback Australia.
Legit Cowboy Outfitters!
At the end of the day I had accumulated some interesting purchases. A few native Australian seeds, a bush hat made from kangaroo leather, a few pieces of Aboriginal art, a traditional Aboriginal digging stick called a nala nala and a Peter Lik book dedicated to the Red Center. These purchases would later render a big fat goose egg in my bank account when I returned to Sydney, but it was well worth it (especially as one is a gift 
.)
During my purchase of the artwork and nala nala I had talked quite extensively with the saleswoman at Boomerang Art, a woman who was French and Polish. I’ll impart some of the wisdom that she passed on to me…
- Each Aboriginal person has two stories/objects to tell/describe: one that they receive from their father and one from their mother. These stories or objects help to explain the Aboriginals’ surroundings and its significance in their creation story. If one of your objects is a kangaroo, you cannot kill kangaroo. These stories must be passed on to others in one of three forms: song, story or art. Hence, Aboriginal art.
- One thing that the nala nala was used for is digging for honey ants. Young Aboriginal girls would be taught by their mothers to look for honey ant workers and dig in their general area. After digging for a long while they would come to the queen, which has a bulbous abdomen of honey. They would take these queens to the fire, heat them up, then suck their abdomen/honey out. Apparently it’s full of Vitamin C. Interesting, eh?
Honey Ant
- She told me to be careful about my decision and that certain pieces of art would speak to me. I was told to put each individual piece that I was interested in onto the gray-carpeted ground, giving it a neutral background.
- There are certain places in Australia where only Aboriginals can go, and the only way that non-Aboriginals can visit it is if they are invited. This is how the art galleries obtain their art: they form relationships with the Aboriginal tribes, then wait to be invited to their lands. They bring high quality brushes and canvas and pay the Aboriginals for their work. If there is a death and the Aborigines must perform ceremonies, the people from the galleries may not be allowed to visit for months.
- Alice Springs is the hub of Aboriginal art. It is in the center of many of the Aboriginal tribal lands. These tribes are very lucky in that they were not forced from the land that they have inhabited for thousands of years, which was not the fate of the majority of Aboriginal tribes.
I loved this woman, real love! She was so incredibly nice, treated me wonderfully, with respect, and was such a warm person! Australia is filled with these kind of people. Or maybe it was because I was giving her money…hmmm.
Walking back towards the hostel, I passed the small park-like area with the mound where I had earlier seen the Aboriginal man finish off his beer and throw the bottle into the fire, staggering away. There had been a drove of school boys running down a road that led to its top, and as it was nearing sunset, I decided to climb it and explore a bit and catch the sunset over Alice.
From the top I had 360° views of the town as well as the ‘mountain ranges’ that embraced it. (We wouldn’t call them mountain ranges, but as I was in one of the flattest places in the world, where a 100 meter-high hill gives you a view for nearly a hundred miles, contextually they were the Himalayas.)
I recorded a video, then sat myself down on the edge and gazed over the quaint town of Alice as the sun set. I removed my camera bag, vowing to not touch it; this was a moment that I was going to experience, one that would be solely mine. Selfish? Maybe, but too often my mind is occupied with finding the correct angle, the right composition or lighting, that I forget to just be and take the moment in. This was a moment for me, a time to absorb the beauty of the works of my creator. Him and me-simple, yet profound.
The moment the sun disappeared it felt like the temperature dropped ten degrees. I high-tailed it back to the hostel and threw on some pants. It was nearing dinner-time so I asked around for a place to eat; it ended up being Subway. Okay food on a burnt sub, but the girl who served me was nice, and obviously appreciated the company of an American, which is always nice.
I arrived back at the hostel absolutely exhausted, and it was only 9pm! That’s the super-awkward thing about crashing at a hostel, if you’re the first to go to bed randoms will come in and out for the rest of the night. I didn’t really care tho, and had a big day following, so I decided to see if I could get some shuteye. Which I couldn’t. What followed truly illustrates the fruits/disadvantages, depending on your situation/point of view, of staying at a co-ed hostel.
It was probably about eleven or so and I was sleeping under the one sheet I was given, tossing and turning, trying desperately to get to sleep. Two girls came in (French is my guess) and started to get ready for bed. As I was on my side facing them, I naturally had my eyes open. It is a rare occurence for a ‘pre-marital’/'pre-living with a female’ man to witness the bedtime rituals of the female sex. However, I got much more than I bargained for. The more attractive of the two dropped her pants, fumbled around with her stuff for a bit, then slipped on some sweats. Then, with her back luckily/unluckily to me, removed her shirt and bra in exchange for a bedtime shirt. Holy jeeze. I couldn’t close my eyes, as they were paralyzed open (AND I am a dude), and I didn’t want her to know I was awake, so I just kinda stayed in that position. She threw on a shirt, hopped into bed, and the surprise/excitement was over. I turned over myself and drifted away to sleep…
–ζ——δ——ζ–
I awoke before my alarm began to scream and laid in bed for a while. The anxiety of the day to come started to set in, and I realized that I felt absolutely terrible. My stomach felt like the middle of the Bering Sea, and I immediately began to invision the horrors that this could cause later in the day.
After my morning rituals and a few pieces of toast my body started to calm down. I hung out a bit with a couple in my room who had been living in South Korea, but were originally from the east coast of the states. He was in the military, and it was great talking to them. They had already been to Uluru, so they filled me in a little bit about it. I also had conversations with a girl from Tokyo and another girl from England. Actually, I was the only guy in the room!
I checked out, got my stuff together and headed out in search of food. A McDonald’s cheeseburger later the van pulled up in front of the hostel. A woman dressed in all green pseudo-canvas clothing disembarked and headed my way. “Are you Petah” she asked in her thick Aussie accent. I answered with the affirmative and hopped on. I was greeted by a middle-aged woman, two beautiful girls that looked my age and two early-to-mid-forties men sitting in the back. I exchanged somewhat awkward ‘hellos’ with them and took my seat.
Lunch wasn’t included in the tour so we headed to a supermarket to get some snacks. I had been looking for a way to initiate conversation with previously-mentioned girls, and I soon learned that they were German. As I perused the aisles of the supermarket (more like minimarket) we crossed paths. “So what part of Germany are you from?”
“Bavaria,” she replied. Ah! I got so excited at hearing this as I have family in the Bavaria and visited in 2000. We spoke a bit about the Black Forest, where my family lives and such. After checking out we hopped back on the van to pick up the rest of our party from the airport. This included a girl from Switzerland, a young man from South Korea and another from Hong Kong. There was supposed to be a fourth, but she didn’t show up and we ended up ditching her. Whatever, her loss!
We left the airport and headed west along the Stuart Highway. Within twenty minutes or so all houses and signs of human interference, save a few fences and the paved highway, had vanished, leaving us with an incredibly flat terrain. Small bushes and trees (trees larger than ten feet were rare) were all skirted with red sand. There were a few hills and miniature valleys, but for the most part it was incredibly flat. I believe there was one option to turn in six hours of driving, possibly two.
THIS is why they call it the Red Center. Thanks to Kate Scollary for permission to use the photo...! (Photo not from our tour.)
Again, thanks to Kate Scollary for the photo... (Photo not from our tour.)
We left from Alice Springs, first stopping at Kings Canyon.
It looked like this for about six or so hours...
I soon learned the name of the German woman who sat in front of me; Conny. After we started to speak we nearly continued until arrival at Kings Canyon. We spoke about Germany and my ties to it (among a multitude of other things). She loved my middle name (Josef) as well as my dad’s name (Franz), both traditional German names; this almost endeared me to her, and made me feel as if I could join the ‘German Club’. She had spent some time in Boston so her English was smooth and clear, and our conversing really helped to pass the time. Six hours of sleeping, talking, listening to music, watching the bush and looking out for kangaroo/dingoes; not a bad way to pass the time.
The bush
During these first six hours Conny was pretty much the only one I talked to. Her travel partner/friend sat in front of her, but due to her not being all that comfortable with her English she let Conny do most of the talking. Later I would come to know her as Jeanette.
Jeanette and Conny had met each other in college, and Jeanette now lives in France. They decided to take a year trip to Australia to holiday and work, but like so many others with the same plan, they couldn’t find work and resorted to shortening the trip to only holiday. Shortening, however, is not a word I would use here. They had been in Australia for three and a half months, travelling around and sightseeing up and down the east coast. This was their last major trip, and they were itching to get back to Germany; they’d burned out on each other a bit.
We stopped every two hours for petrol, and checking out these service stations was quite the cultural experience. All of these service stations seemed the same. They all had pumps (obviously), cafés or diners, tourist shops, and small attractions. The first one we came to had a caged-off area of emus. I didn’t really know this until recently, but the emu is native to Australia and is somewhat of a national icon. The Socceroos’ jerseys, the national soccer team, has a crest with a kangaroo and an emu prominently on the front.
The rest area
Inside
The service station also had a cool old-fashioned bar. A woman smoking a cigarette, a couple shooting pool and an old, past-his-prime bushman watching an AFL game on the big screen comprised the patrons. I ordered a meal that took way too long to cook, making me the last one to the van. That’s never a good feeling. This trend would continue for the rest of the trip. I absolutely hated it.
The next two hours went by relatively quickly. I can’t remember anything really of note other than I started chatting a bit with Jeanette and we all had more interaction with the guys from Melbourne in the back of the van. We all had started to come together.
The next and final service station was my favorite. It’s attraction was camel rides, but more interestingly it also functioned as a kangaroo rescue. They looked after Joeys (baby kangaroos) who had lost their mothers and were too small to survive in the bush on their own. They were kept in an enclosed space until they had grown to survivable height, when they were released back into the wild. It is super lame, but I really haven’t had that much interaction with kangaroos while I’ve been here, so this was pretty special for me. I haven’t even seen one in the wild yet! (I’ve heard one though…) To see them move is so interesting, and they almost look otherworldy with their huge feet, long, thick tails, comically-tiny arms, horse faces and their hopping gait.
We were there for feeding time, so I got to witness them all come hopping over, probably twenty or so of them, to the feed bowl and gather around. It was something I hadn’t experienced before (somewhat obviously), and it was pretty special!
I have to explain the significance of camels. Back in the days of exploration of Australia, which was the 19th Century, camels were brought over from the Middle East to aid in said exploration. Many camel farmers cropped up, and after a while the government decided it wasn’t a good idea. Camels aren’t native to Australia, and the government felt that they had completed their duty. Camel farmers were all told to kill their camels, and that would be the end of it. I bet you can guess what happened…Many camel farmers released their stock into the wild instead of killing them, where they flourished. The Northern Territory now has around one million camels, more than anywhere in the world, including the Middle East. Also, Kate informed us that if a wild camel could be caught it would be the captors to keep. We all found that pretty interesting.
Kate, our guide, alerted us that if we hurried we would be able to see sunset over some mountain range, so we hopped back on the van and zoomed towards our destination. It took about another hour or so, but we finally reached the campsite. Kate checked us in, then led on us a short walk through the bush on a boardwalk to a viewing area where we would see the sun set behind the George Gill Ranges. It was calm and beautiful, a wonderful way to start the night.
The sunset
Once again we all piled into the van as we took of towards the camp site. Kate put on the Indiana Jones theme while we offroaded it, around sharp turns, up and down over bumps. It was quite a ride!
One of the great features of the trip was permanent camp sites. Both nights we had our own private camp sites complete with permanent shelters with bunks and a covered eating/cooking area. It wasn’t roughing it at all, but still a fun way to experience nature and the outback.
Dinner consisted of noodles with bolognese sauce, a hearty and ‘oh so’ tasty meal. Post dinner we all migrated to the fire pit, with Kate and I visiting what was rumored to be an old Aboriginal burial ground to collect some wood. Apparently there had been ghost sitings and such; it was pretty cool!
Our time around the campfire was a riot! Kate told stories of past groups and ridiculously stupid questions she’s been asked, while Roelof (pronounced Rule-off), the South African-turned Australian entertained us with his marshmallow-roasting skills. I’m not sure if it was the alcohol, excitement from being on vacation or just his personality, but he was an absolute riot. He kept on calling the marshmallows ‘mushrooms’, which spawned a few jokes of him being under the influence of magical mushrooms, and he put us in stitches with his quips towards his companion Brett. There were also a few kangaroo tails roasting in our firepit, and once we had grown wary of their presence Roelof terrorized the neighboring camp with them. It was a fantastic night.
Roelof roasting marshmallows. To my direct right is Kate, to Roulin's left is Helen, then Brett.
Photo Courtesy of Simona Meloni
The weather was incredible as well. Remember this is the middle of the desert, super-hot days and cold nights. That night it didn’t get lower than 65 degrees or so, and it was an incredibly clear sky; and eerie combination. Due to this most of us elected to sleep outside under the stars in swags, a type of envelope for our sleeping bags. It’s difficult to explain, but see the pictures below.
My swag (without a sleeping bag).
Jeanette and Conny in their swags. I slept right off to the right. (Photo courtesty of Jeanette, tho I took it...:))
I’ve never seen the Milky Way that milky before, just thick with stars. Roelof also pointed out to me the Southern Cross, a constellation that has a place on the Australian flag which is nearly impossible to see from Sydney. It felt as though we were in a tin can with holes poked in the top, the stars were so intense. (Though not as intense as the stars on a Costa Rican beach. Remember that, parents?)
After a few shooting and falling stars I drifted off to sleep. Finally, I had made it to the real Australia; the Australian outback!
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After our time around the campsite we really started to get to know one another, and began to form what would later feel like a sort of family. (Well, I didn’t view everyone as family…;) ) It is now my honor to introduce you to the crew!
We were lucky to have as our tour guide Kate, a woman in her late-twenties from Melbourne, who currently ‘keeps (her) stuff in Alice Springs.’ She had been tour guiding for approx. eight months. She’s an adventorous yet laid back woman who enjoys her beer (a requirement of being Australian)!
Next came Helen, a middle-aged woman from Melbourne. She works for the University of Queensland-Melbourne with International Students, so it was interesting to talk with her about my experiences as an international student.
I’ve previously mentioned Brett and Roelof, companions from Melbourne in their mid-40′s who would come to be referred to as ‘the boys’ (though I preferred the ‘two amigos’). They had travelled the world together, and brought much humor, insight and entertainment to our clan.
The people I became the closest to on the trip were Conny and Jeanette, the young women from Germany. They were a lot of fun as well, and I am so terribly lucky that they were on this trip! It was similar to the dynamics of my relationship with Emily in Hawai’i, if any of you catch that reference…
Simona is a 19-year old from Switzerland whose been studying in Cairns for about the same duration as myself. She’s a quiet girl, but also quite fun!
Rounding out the group was Terry from Hong Kong and Yung from South Korea. Due to a rigid language barrier we really didn’t have all that much interaction with them, but it was obvious that they were two intelligent and interesting young men, truly good guys.
The incredibleness of this trip rests squarely on the shoulders of these nine indiviuals. Before I had joined the group I had spoken to a girl at the hostel about her trip. She told me a bit about it, then remarked, “It really depends on your group.” I was so very lucky to be on this trip with these nine people, they truly made it a delightful time.
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Thanks to Ashleigh Hull and Kel Pearson for descriptive help.
Sunrise at Kings Canyon
Sunrise at Kings Canyon
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
Sunrise at Kings Canyon
Sunrise at Kings Canyon
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
First View of the Outback
First View of the Outback
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
Father and Son
This has to be on of the best songs of all time, Cat Steven/Yusuf’s ‘Father and Son’…
Father
It’s not time to make a change,
Just relax, take it easy.
You’re still young, that’s your fault,
There’s so much you have to know.
Find a girl, settle down,
If you want you can marry.
Look at me, I am old, but I’m happy.
I was once like you are now, and I know that it’s not easy,
To be calm when you’ve found something going on.
But take your time, think a lot,
Why, think of everything you’ve got.
For you will still be here tomorrow, but your dreams may not.
Son
How can I try to explain, when I do he turns away again.
It’s always been the same, same old story.
From the moment I could talk I was ordered to listen.
Now there’s a way and I know that I have to go away.
I know I have to go.
Father
It’s not time to make a change,
Just sit down, take it slowly.
You’re still young, that’s your fault,
There’s so much you have to go through.
Find a girl, settle down,
if you want you can marry.
Look at me, I am old, but I’m happy.
(Son– Away Away Away, I know I have to
Make this decision alone – no)
Son
All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside,
It’s hard, but it’s harder to ignore it.
If they were right, I’d agree, but it’s them They know not me.
Now there’s a way and I know that I have to go away.
I know I have to go.
(Father– Stay Stay Stay, Why must you go and
make this decision alone?)
Hungry Joeys
Hungry Joeys
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
At a kangaroo rescue somewhere between Alice Springs and Kings Canyon, kangaroo joeys eat dinner. These kangaroos were rescued after their mothers were killed, and will be taken care of until they are big enough to fend for themselves, then will be set free.
View more photos of my trip to the Red Center here–>
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=257053&id=692785536&l=b364099980
Uluru Sunset
Uluru Sunset
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
View more photos of my trip to the Red Center here–>
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=257053&id=692785536&l=b364099980
sun sets fire to uluru
sun sets fire to uluru
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
View more photos of my trip to the Red Center here–>
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=257053&id=692785536&l=b364099980
Uluru Sunrise
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
View more photos of my trip to the Red Center here–>
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=257053&id=692785536&l=b364099980
A Father’s Perspective
I arrived back to the apartment from the Red Center to receive this e-mail from my Dad, his account of my parents’ first week in Sydney with me. It hasn’t been edited, or read…
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The following are the words of Franz St. George.
Australia: 4/12- Arrived in Sydney at 6:10 AM, tired and cramped from the tight space on the plane. Impression of the flight?: comparing the SAS flight to Stockholm in November to this United Air flight to Australia, this flight was definitely several stars under the SAS flight. During the taxi ride from the airport to the hotel, I noticed that the trees looked tropotypical (a word I just coined), some palms and some very tall, somewhat open types ( maybe acacia?). It was also strange to have the driver on the right side of the car and driving on the left side of the road.It was overcast and humid, temp in the mid 70s. We we lucky and were able to check into our hotel room, downtown Sydney, 10min walk from the harbor and the Opera House. We met Peter outside the hotel at noon. It was wonderful seeing him walking the sidewalk towards us. He’s lost just a little weight and he looks great! We hung out in the room for a little while and then walked down to the Circular Quay (harbor), touristy, but very cool (temp wise, the sun came out and it got very warm). Lots of street performers; watched several groups of aboriginal men in their traditional garb and face-body paint playing didgederoos (sp). We had lunch on the water and made our way to the Opera House and through the Royal Botanical Gardens-hundreds of large flying foxes!. Each of these places, along with the sights on the water front were incredible by themselves.All of this is inside Sydney! We got back to the hotel room at around 4:30, rested and then walked to the train station and took the train to Peter’s college, MacQuarie University. We walked through campus to his apartment. Due to the Easter 2 week break, it was dead quiet except for the incessant bird sounds (lots of large yellow cockatoos (sp) and other tropical types of birds). At the apartment, one of Peter’s roommates, Vasya, had prepared a Russian-type meal for us. Peter’s roommates are very interesting. Vasya and his wife, Jenya (sp) live in one room. They are from Moscow. Heet, a Japanese man from Tokyo lives another room. All three are graduate students. Heet is currently writing his Ph.D. dissertation in environmental law-Peter says he is constantly sequestered in his room. Jenya is a Russian-educated lawyer and is studying environmental law and Vasya is studying business administration. He already has a Ph.D. in laser physics, but says that there are no employment opportunities for his skills in Russia. What an incredibly intelligent, interesting and motivated group that Peter is fortunate to be living with. Vasya prepared a three-course meal of salad, stuffed pancakes, mozzerella, tomato eggplant and salmon. After dinner Peter walked us back to the train station and Nancy and I made our way back to the hotel room in downtown Sydney-collapsed into our beds. It is now Monday morning and I’m finishing this post. My impressions: Peter seems quite self-sufficient and confident here. He did a marvelous job of showing us the highlights of the Circular Quay area and showing us how to navigate using the train system. What an incredibly diverse cultural place Sydney is. Besides the causcasian and native Australians, we saw many different asian types of people; probably from Korean, Japanese, Chinese to Indonesian, Vietnamese, Thai, etc. Many Indian people, folks from Africa. It seems that the asian population represents a very large fraction of the local population. All of the different languages was astounding. I was reminded of that scene in Star Wars where Han Solo goes into an intergalactic saloon where so many different species of beings were wetting their whistle. The flora and fauna inside Sydney is astounding! One of those places where, without knowing the political and social problems you think you could easily live. A paradise for those just arriving!
The previous was written about a month ago so some of the details of the Australia visit are somewhat fuzzy. The following are some of the stronger impressions and memories I have. Monday was a chill day where we got some of our energy back. Later in the afternoon Peter took us to see the shopping area, QVB, where it was interesting to see the Aussies spending their money. Not too different than a US upscale mall. I’m still amazed at the diversity in the population here. Its also very obvious that this is a world-class city-the stores, fashions, traffic, 24 hour activity. Also, a tipoff for me is how upscale the women dress.
On early Tuesday morning Nancy and I grabbed our light weight luggage negotiated to the train station and met Peter at the Central train station to take the 2hr train ride to the Blue Mountains (amed for the blue hue of the gas given off by the eucalyptus trees. It was a wonderful train ride through the Australian country side-semi tropical flora. We checked into our rooming house, somewhat austere, but clean and adequate for our needs. At lunch Peter had roast kangaroo. I had a sample-it was very delicious and tender. We bought a bus tour fare good for two days. They take you to different drop off/pick up points and you can explore. Our major stop of the day was the Rain forest area. The tram ride over the very deep valley was cool. But even cooler was the small train ride down to the bottom of the valley. Without exaggeration the angle of descent was about 45 degrees! Wire mesh enclosed the open cars so that people wouldn’t fall out. Wow! It was very cool (literally) at the bottom of the valley, very moist too. We saw lots of flora-the only fauna was birds-very colorful! At the end of the day we ended up in the small town of Leura, where Nancy decided that she’d like to do some shopping the next day.
The next day we jumped back on the bus and for the first stop we went to the chocolate factory for some snacks-yum! We explored some of the other stops and really enjoyed the Leural Falls stop. The long trail of cascading waterfalls gave Peter plenty of photo-ops so he kind of split off for a while. We ended up in Leura for shopping-really didn’t find anything and had a bit of a snack there. At the end of the day we finished our wonderful visit to the Blue Mountains and took a train back to Sydney. We were scheduled to meet Peter’s friend Reese at a Belgian bar for mussels. We got to this incredibly packed bar where they were waiting for us, jammed into the bar for a seat and found that they ran out of mussels-shoot! Well, some other time. I drank plenty of beer-had a beer with my son-very cool kind of bonding experience-our first beer together! You had to be there…
Thursday was a chill day…. We went down to the aquarium and saw some cool sharks, fish, manta rays, etc. Huge tanks with glass tunnels through them for people to traverse and view the ocean life from within the tank.
Friday-the big day! We met Peter at the McQuarie train stop and walked to his apartment. Heet, his room mate was going to make lunch for Nancy, Jenya , Peter and I. He had a special cooktop set up on the balcony to heat the oil he was going to use for the tempura-style cooking. He cooked us several different kinds of fish and vegetable that we thoroughly enjoyed. We had great conversation and a great time. Later Peter took us on a walk through the Aussie neighborhoods and through a remote wooded area. We were searching for lizards. Didn’t see any, but we had a great time! He really knows his way around this area. Later we took a train back to Sydney. We went to the Sydney Opera house to see the dance production Push. Two dancers, man and woman-incredible.! What a wonderful performance. Being at he Opera House on the water front was special. This is an incredibly beautiful building and location. Its located in the city at the edge of the botanical gardens and on the water front. During the intermission Peter and I went outside and looked over the low wall into the water. Such a beautiful sight the city was with all of its lights reflecting on the water! Hey, the taxi rides to and from the Opera House from our hotel were an incredible experience. I don’t think that there are traffic laws for taxis in Sydney. This was more exciting than a carnival ride. These drivers wear racing gloves-I swear that they are juiced! Anyway, the Opera House was an experience of a lifetime!
Saturday-my first big time real, professional rugby game- the Sydney Waratahs against the Western Force from Perth. Peter arranged for these incredible seats-front row, just a few feet from the action. The crowd was juiced, the players were juiced, I was excited for action and big hits. We were lucky to be sitting next to some guys that had been players and were willing to explain the action and rules to us. Man, American football seems soft compared to how these guys play. Lots of big full speed hits, many, many runs. A significant amount of time is spent tackling where the hit does not end play, they keep pushing and grabbing and hitting. Its almost like wrestling during the tackle-I can’t believe the stamina these guys have. There are very big, stout players and smaller, very quick players. The hits are viscious-I saw lots of blood-play on!! There is no roughing the kicker, I saw kickers spun around like pinwheels! What an experience with Peter! Thank you Peter!
Sunday-off to New Zealand with Nancy and Peter.
My thoughts? The part of Australia we experienced was beautiful and awesome. Really nice, diverse people. Sydney is a wonderful experience. So may things to do and see. The quality of life here must be good. Lots of parks, beach, city entertainment, museums, restaurants, etc. Peter did an incredible job creating an itinerary that gave us a taste of many aspects of life here. Peter, you really impressed me with your resourcefulness and independence! I’m so proud of you-what you do, who you are, how you think… Dude, thanks for making our trip such a special experience. We just wanted to see you and you made it so much more!
Picton–>Wellington. Parents–>Eugene. Peter–>Sydney.
It’s been a while since I’ve posted about NZ, and I’ve kind of run out of steam and excitement for writing about it. I do have some cool photos and stories and such, so I’m gonna press on and wrap it up below. Then I’ll write about the first week with my parents, probably in just one post, then FINALLY finish the post on my time at Reese’s place. Ok…here goes nothing…
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Morning came much too quickly in Hanmer Springs, and once again I was faced with the prospect of vacating my warm bed for the freezing room. Ugh, that’s one thing I don’t miss about NZ. Anyways, this B&B was different than the others in that our breakfast was brought to our rooms, which was pretty cool. If I remember right I had scrambled eggs and salmon, oh so good.
The parents and I spoke about what we were gonna do for the day; the hot springs were on the agenda, as well as swimming with the dolphins. Our whole trip in NZ had been incredibly rushed, so we decided to bag those ideas and just head towards Picton.
We said our goodbyes to the hosts and got on the road, stopping briefly at a wool shop in Hanmer. I picked up some sweet wool/possum gloves-nothing better than New Zealand wool!
On the way over to Picton we were told to stop at the small coastal, tourist-saturated town of Kaikoura. The drive to Kaikoura was relatively uneventful. As we neared the town I saw a ‘Scenic Viewpoint’ sign and directed Dad towards it. We pulled out into this small parking lot with what seemed like a water reservoir, and an incredible view was laid out in front of us. A beautiful, intensely-blue bay to our left, with a backdrop of gray mountains. In the center was the city of Kaikoura, with the ocean to the right. Just incredibly spectacular.
The view
LOVE this shot!
The town of Kaikoura was pretty cute, just maybe four or so main streets. We stopped off at a seafood place on the main drag, where Dad and I had crayfish salad (crayfish in NZ is lobster…). While we waited for our meal I decided to cross the street and frolick in the New Zealand ocean for a bit. Man was it cold! But I had to touch it, yah know, so I could say I did. I picked up a few cool rocks for myself and Oma and headed back for lunch.
The lobster was good but it had nothing on our dungeness crab. I’d say the mussels were my favorite part of the meal, they were pickled or something. We pressed on, stopping only once at a place that was recommended to us for its carrot cake. Man was it good, all different kinds of seeds and a thick cream cheese frosting. It was a nice old lodge-style place, right on the New Zealand beach.
Ah, my crayfish/lobster salad...
After a few hours we finally arrived in Picton in darkness. The hosts of the bed and breakfast were very nice, with the husband coming from South Africa. (In my opinion, the most disgusting accent ever. In case you wanted to know…). They were wonderfully warm people; she took care of the bed and breakfast full-time while he helped part-time, the other time going to his building of a boat.
Upon entrance to the bed and breakfast stairs to the second floor were directly on the right (where the rooms resided), with the great room to the left and kitchen straight ahead. The great room was decorated in much the same was as the Greymouth bed and breakfast, an antique sort of feel( i.e. dark woods, like mahogany, old books and copper trinkets, and a slight musty smell). The rooms were furnished in a bit of a lesser fashion than the rooms previously, but it was still comfortable and I got my own room again. SCORE!
After messing around on my computer and blogging a bit we decided to head out for some grub. We ducked into a small, cozy Irish pub and found ourselves a table. I had a wonderful steak, and sat back to enjoy it while a hippie called ‘Panda’ played a few tunes on his guitar. He was originally from America but had lived in NZ for a while. When he was just casually conversing he sounded legitimately New Zealander, but as soon as he began to sing it dropped away and America was back.
His tunes were fun to listen to; stories told through song in a smooth voice that would at points drop into a Louis Armstrong-like growl. We waited until the end of one of his tunes and peaced out of the joint. Tomorrow was to be an early morning as we were taking the ferry from Picton to Wellington. I had to get some good rest before that eventful day!
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I awoke around 6:30 or so the next morning feeling terrible. Not sick terrible, just ‘ew, this is disgusting’ terrible. I quickly packed my things and headed downstairs for the obligatory ‘family-style breakfast’ that I was quickly growing tired of. I don’t like to talk in the morning. Or eat. Or be awake. And that doesn’t mesh all too well with the whole bed and breakfast scene. I forced down some fruit and had another wonderful meal of salmon and scrambled eggs. We excused ourselves from the table relatively quickly, for we had to finish packing and get to the wharf in time to catch the ferry.
Before we left the hostess blessed us with a basket of muffins. At this particular bed and breakfast they had a special ‘Muffin Club’ where the hostess baked muffins and gave each visitor their own helping of muffins. To join the Muffin Club one had to take a picture of themself at home or somewhere interesting and send the photo in. The scrap book was pretty impressive, pictures from all over the world and people in all different kinds of situations eating their muffins. It was an interesting and fun idea, but with customs being so incredibly tight in Australia (the Australian quarentine lady actually took my shoes that had some New Zealand dirt on them and washed them for me, handing them back to me ten minutes later sparkling clean) I really didn’t want to chance it.
We pushed off from what was to be our last bed and breakfast and drove a few minutes towards the ferry. We arrived and Dad attempted to drop off the rental car (which took a little while due to the dent that it suffered while in our care), then we checked our bags and bided our time until departure.
After an hour or so of waiting, boarding the ship and nestling in our own private lounge area in the club section, the boat started to move. And guess what? I was nervous. Yep, of course. It was a ferry, so it was a pretty big ship, but I have thrown up on a boat before (yeah, boat…not ship. still, it gets me nervous), and seeing the ‘Ocean Sickness Bags’ didn’t help the situation at all.
Club Area
I walked outside of our club area and onto the deck outside. Conditions weren’t favorable for photography (too sunny) but I decided to shoot anyway to pass the time. As I was shooting a man with binoculars sidled up next to me, and we struck up a conversation. After about fifteen minutes of talking we were friends.
His name was Jeff, a Floridian who worked for NASA. We talked about New Zealand and Australia, Lord of the Rings, Obama, Bush, NASA and its funding, birds, photography, ultimate frisbee; we covered pretty much everything. Later I exchanged e-mail addresses with him, and we’ve exchanged a few letters since then.
Later on I found myself outside on the deck, without my camera, overhearing a ferry worker mention the words ‘dolphin sighting.’ I sprinted around the deck, through the hatch and inside to our club area, grabbed my camera and sprinted back outside. At this point there was a crowd around the railing. I found myself a spot and scanned the ocean. After a few moments two or three began to jump, leaping in perfect arcs before slicing back into the water with the slightest of splashes. There would be quiet, then all of a sudden one would rise, then another, and it would set of a chain of them rising. There were times when I could see them speeding just below the surface of the water. They were so playful and cute, it was wonderful! I took a bunch of shots, and had one successful capture. I’m pretty proud of it, it’s difficult to time their jumps!
Dolphins!
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I forgot to mention this in the previous post, but while we were in Hamner Springs our hosts spoke to us about swimming with the dolphins, and told us an incredibly remarkable episode in which the dolphins demonstrated their intelligence. Our hostess spoke of the dolphin handlers, and how she heard one of them ask a woman if she was pregnant. Taken by surprise, the lady confirmed that she was indeed pregnant. Apparently the dolphins crowd around pregnant women, protect them, and guide them through the ocean. How remarkable is that? The handlers have picked up on this, and now have the ability to point out whether a woman is pregnant or not.
On a different excursion the dolphin handler asked another woman if she was pregnant, and she replied, “I most certainly am NOT!” Months later they received word from the woman that she was in fact pregnant, but hadn’t known it at the time…
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The scenery was quite beautiful. We were sailing out of an inlet meaning there was land on both sides of us. Much of it was grassy hills, but there were green forests magically dotted with red trees, rock formations, beaches and lavish vacation houses. I snapped a ton of photos and headed back in to catch some some shut-eye.
The ferry's route...
The sea started to roll the ship a bit, and we were rocking. I was seriously nervous for a while of getting sick, but I kept my eyes on the horizon, then fell asleep.
After a few hours we finally pulled into a harbor, the city sprawling out in front of us. We docked, departed, and caught a shuttle to our hotel, Museum Hotel. It was a fancy, old-fashioned place, with beautiful New Zealand young women dressed in black waiting at the counter for us. We arranged for my wake-up call at 4:00am the next morning, dropped our bags off and headed out for some food.
We walked around for a bit in Wellington and found a place that served bagels, similar to Humble Bagel minus the hippy atmosphere. I usually wouldn’t bring up such mundane details, but this was HUGE. Bagels really haven’t made it across the ocean to New Zealand and Australia. Reese was just telling me that only in the last two years or so have you been able to get a bagel in Sydney, and I hadn’t been able to find one, save one restaraunt in the Mac Center, since I’ve been here. Apparently some American was in Wellington, couldn’t find a good bagel, so he decided to start his own bagel place. Ah, it was so tasty.
We had an afternoon in Wellington and didn’t really have anything planned. I had read about this place called Karori Sanctuary on the ferry. It looked pretty interesting, as it was a sanctuary for native flora and fauna. We decided to check it out, so we hopped on a bus and headed up the hill.
We came up to the sanctuary and paid. The lady made me check inside my bag to see that I didn’t have any outside seeds or rodents (yeah, there’s most definitely a MOUSE IN MY CAMERA BAG. Ugh..). We made our way to the entrance and saw an interesting fence that ran the whole length of the sanctuary, all the way up the steep hill and out of sight. It was made of a tightly-woven mesh, and on the top there was curved metal-the only way I can think to describe it is a large, upside-down gutter made out of sheet metal. This was to keep any outside animals such as cats and possums from climbing in.
The following is from Wikipedia.org…
The most crucial aspect of the sanctuary is a pest-exclusion fence - specifically designed to exclude fourteen species of non-native land mammals ranging from possums to mice - that encircles the 8.6 km perimeter of the Sanctuary. Construction of this fence was completed in 1999 and all fourteen species of mammalian pests within the perimeter were then eradicated. This predator proof fence is of great conservation significance – being a world first. In terms of its meeting conservation goals Karori wildlife sanctuary has met with considerable success thanks to the effective design of the encircling fence. As of 2006 the fence has been successful in excluding all but the smallest species – the house mouse.
Upon entrance it just seemed like a regular park. There was a beautiful lake/reservoir with a red gazebo on its shore. As we got deeper into the sanctuary and down into the forest area we began to see a plethora of lifeforms of the avian variety. They were all over, flying above us, singing. Some were large, others tiny, but all with songs of megaphone-like volume. We walked along a trickling stream with barely any of the midday sun penetrating the thick rainforest. Birds were dropping seed encasings around us. It was quite spectacular.
The Gazebo and Reservoir
We didn’t, however, see any lizards or kiwis, which was disappointing. I was hoping to see a wild kiwi in Australia, but hey, there’s always next time (and there WILL be a next time!) The minutes ticked away towards 5:00, and we knew we had to end our excursion and exit this paradise. The lady who took our money warned us that if we weren’t out by 5:00 we would be locked in, and we weren’t too excited about that proposition.
Fern Tree in Karori
After Karori we parused the streets of Wellington a bit, stopping in at an All-Blacks shop where Dad picked up a sick shirt. At this point the tummies were rumblin’ again, so our mission was grub. I had my heart set on one last meal of New Zealand lamb.
Downtown Wellington
We found a nice-looking place called Zabbibo, the restaurant of famed New Zealand cook Adam Newell. The dining room was above a chic bar/lounge area, and we settled in for our last New Zealand dinner. We ordered tapas, which was the chef’s specialty. They were absolutely incredible. I really can’t explain it, but I think I may have a picture somewhere.
Parents at Zabbibo checking out the cook book.
The dining room. Yeah, it filled up later...
Tapas! Those calamata olives were SOOO good!
My main course was some kind of NZ fish, so tender and delectable. I also had an incredible dinner salad, which turned out to be one of my favorite dishes of the night. The parents bought the chef’s cookbook and had him sign it, but the next day left it in the hotel… ;(. We finished off the meal with a nice chocolate dessert.
The fish...scrumptious!
At this point it was getting late, so we headed back the hotel, stopping to get some bagels for the morning. We just chilled in the hotel room, our last night together for months. I flipped on the tele and up popped Jon Stewart and the Daily Show! In NZ! I thought that was pretty cool. Dad and I watched the second half of a rugby game, then capped the night off with a little Seinfeld.
It seems pretty simplistic and unprofound, but one of my favorite memories of my parents being here was my father and rugby. From the first day I saw them we watched rugby on tv, and to groan and gasp at the hits with him was so meaningful, as if we were reforming some carnal bond that had gone unquenched for too long. The Waratah rugby game was so intense, and it was great experiencing it next to him, remarking about the hits, different rules, and how our football players, namely Jonathan Stewart, would match up against them. Then looking at the rugby merchandise, us both buying All Blacks shirts, and catching the random game on tv with him; for some reason it was all somehow poweful, nearly sacred.
I said my last goodnights to them, kissed them both, and settled into my bed with Russell Brand’s My Bookie Wook. Morning was to come soon…
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The familiar and demonic sound of my phone alarm was jarring, but I awoke quickly and packed up my things. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and applied deoderant, all in a seemingly drunken fashion. I kissed my parents goodbye, hugged Dad, and let myself out of the room. I haven’t seen them since (save a Skype session).
A weathered, unshaven taxi driver picked me up oustide of the hotel, liberating me from the frigid Wellington morning. He drove around the harbor, and across the bay I could see New Zealand’s largest city collectively sleeping, a few golden lights sprinkling the hillside. We arrived at the International Terminal, I thanked him, and trudged away with my bags.
After an hour and a half of checking in, going through customs and boarding, I was finally on my way back to Australia, back to Sydney, and back to the life I had been leading since February 11, 2009.
Sydney from the air.
A Mother’s View
While my parents were here I asked them if they could complete a homework assignment for me. My assignment to my dad was to write a blog post about the first week of my parents time in Australia, and my mom’s was to write about New Zealand. Well, yesterday Mom sent me her blog post, and here it is below. None of the content has been changed. I actually only have read the first paragraph. Uh-oh…
The following is the writings of Nancy St. George.
Peter asked Franz and I to be his guest bloggers and write about our trip to the southern hemisphere. Franz is to write about our week in Australia and I will describe our week in New Zealand. The first lesson I’ve learned about being a blogger is , keeping notes during the trip is extremely important. Details are harder to recall when you’ve been home for a month. Well maybe I’mdescribing bloggers over the age of 50! Thankfully we haven’t returned our travel books to their rightful owners yet so I can come up with some names and places that are stuck somewhere in the recesses of my brain.
I know Peter breathed a sigh of relief when we boarded the plane in Sydney for the two hour trip to Christchurch on the southern island of New Zealand. He did an excellent job of planning a wonderful itinerary for our week in Australia and this part of the trip felt more like a vacation for him. Or so we all thought until we pulled out of the airport parking lot in our rental car. Who ever decided that New Zealanders should join most of the world by driving on the wrong side of the road, and that every time you reached for the turn signal the windshield wipers would come on. Try figuring out which lane in the ‘round about’ you should be in while someone is yelling, “Dad! Move to your left and the windshield wipers are going full speed.” Quite a stressful beginning to the more relaxing part of our trip. Oh yes, and the maps seemed to be written backwards also. How many times did we have to circle back to get to the road we wanted. That was my doing and after much exasperation on the part of all three of us Peter was named navigator for the next day. I have to admit he did a better job than me but I’m sure he learned from my mistakes, and we did have to circle back a time or two.
Franz had done a wonderful job setting up accommodations for this part of the trip. Our first Bed and Breakfast was “Coastal Cliffs” where we were the guests of Glenda and her husband Rick. The drive up to their home reminded me of the zigzag streets of San Francisco. Every turn is hairpin and the addresses all seemed to be hidden. We did arrive safely and the view from the cliffswas unbelievable as was Glenda’s garden. It was autumn there and her garden was still lush and beautiful. I jealously noticed the variety of plants she could grow in the ground that we would treat as exotics or houseplants! The agapanthus were just past their bloom so I couldn’t tell if they were my favorite deep,dark blue.
After two days in Christchurch area we headed out for our trip across the island via Arthur’s Pass. Finally! straight roads without much traffic. We were all thrilled to able to relax a bit in the car. Actually Peter and I relaxed as Franz was our lone driver. I had planned on doing some of the driving but quickly changed my mind early in the week and remained as navigator! Arthur’s Pass was made as a shortcut through the southern alps for the settlers in the 1800’s who wanted a quick way to reach the west coast and the gold fields that were discovered there. The scenery was spectacular, glacial mountains, green green flats with grazing sheep, dry riverbeds and sunny skies. Our destination on the west coast was Greymouth, a small community that was originally a gold and coal mining area. We expected to be greeted with chilly, rainy weather as the west coast was billed as the wet and rainy side. The sun gods were with us though and we enjoyed the warmth of the sun that seemed to follow us on this trip. Our stay atGreymouth was at “Oak Lodge Homestead”,a Bed and Breakfast run by Alastair and Shirley. Now this stay was purely New Zealand. Alastair used to own a huge sheep farm that he ran by himself. He sold it a few years ago and they bought the B&B from its previous owners. They still have some sheep and Alastair does a bit of farming. Peter has posted some pictures of this stay which all of us decided was definitely a favorite stop and one where we could easily stayed 3 or 4 more days. Our next destination was not in our original itinerary but we were convinced by the locals that it was a stop not to be missed. We headed north along theTasman Sea to the small ocean side town of Punakaiki. The highlight was limestone stacks of rock that looked like pancakes jutting out from the beach. It really was interesting and we enjoyed a few hours relaxing there enjoying the scenery and doing a little shopping at the tourist shop..
I ‘m realizing that this is starting to read like a travel log and you can buy books for that so I’ll move on and say that all three of us loved New Zealand and the friendly people, slower pace of life and incredible scenery. We did spend a lot of time on the road because we wanted to see as much as possible, but this left us without a lot of time to explore each of our destinations in depth. Franz and I have decided that we will return to New Zealand as a 25th anniversary trip. We’ll go during their spring and make it a garden tour. The gardens we did see were lovely and I’m sure there are many more hidden away that are open to the public for tours. We have three years to plan and save and look forward to another wonderful trip together. Peter has asked if he can come too and I think he is joking but there were wonderful photo ops. for him and it would be nice to have a garden photographer along! So… although I enjoyed reminiscing about our trip while I wrote this, being a blogger is a bit of work. I appreciate all of your writings Peter and maybe between the three of us we’ll have a good diary of our trip together “down under.”
“Shredded Weed-Taking the fun out of marijuana”-Slate Magazine
Just stumbled upon this article linked from the Huffington Post. It relates well with my paper on the legalization of marijuana, and is super-interesting, in my view. Take a gander, and leave your comments/reactions, especially if you are ‘socially conservative-minded’…
Oh, and for my family out there, I’m not a pothead; I just find this interesting. Thought I’d clear that up…
the following is from Slate Magazine, http://www.slate.com/id/2219152/?from=rss
Shredded Weed
Taking the fun out of marijuana.
By William Saletan
Posted Wednesday, May 27, 2009, at 9:04 AM ETMarijuana plant
We’ve taken the caffeine out of coffee, the alcohol out of beer, and the smoke out of tobacco. What’s next?
Taking the fun out of pot.
GW Pharmaceuticals, a British company, has just requested European approval of Sativex, a “cannabinoid pharmaceutical product.”What’s that? Do I hear you snickering at your keyboard? You think this is a backdoor way of legalizing weed?
For shame, says the company:
Sativex is a cannabinoid pharmaceutical product standardized in composition, formulation, and dose, administered by means of an appropriate delivery system, which has been, and continues to be, tested in properly controlled preclinical and clinical studies. Crude herbal cannabis in any form—including a crude extract or tincture—is none of those things.So there. Sativex isn’t pot. It’s a carefully refined derivative: “Once the plants have matured, they are harvested and dried. GW then extracts the cannabinoids and other pharmacologically-active components … [to] arrive at a pharmaceutical grade material.” Patients are further expected to regulate their intake to separate pot’s approved effects—relief of pain and spasms—from its unapproved effects:
By careful self-titration (dose adjustment), most patients are able to separate the thresholds for symptom relief and intoxication, the ‘therapeutic window’, so enabling them to obtain symptom relief without experiencing a ‘high’.
Bummer, eh? The company knows exactly what you’re thinking:
Why not just let patients smoke cannabis?In GW’s opinion, smoking is not an acceptable means of delivery for a medicine. We believe that patients wish to use a medicine that is legally prescribed, does not require smoking, is of guaranteed quality, has been developed and approved by regulatory authorities for use in their specific medical condition and is dispensed by pharmacists under the supervision of their doctor.
That’s a sensible approach. From the standpoint of medicinal as opposed to recreational use, it certainly makes more sense than letting everybody grow and smoke the herb, with all the resulting variability, fraud, and side effects. But GW’s anti-pot evangelism goes further:
GW has never endorsed or supported the idea of distributing or legalizing crude herbal cannabis for medical use. In both our publications and presentations, we have consistently maintained that only a cannabinoid medication—one that is standardized in composition, formulation, and dose, administered by means of an appropriate delivery system, and tested in properly controlled preclinical and clinical studies—can meet the standards of regulatory authorities around the world, including those of the FDA.And don’t even think of breaking in and stealing the raw goods:
GW’s cannabis plants are grown under computer-controlled conditions in secure glasshouses at a secret location in the UK. … The facility is situated in the South of England but for clear security reasons we do not divulge the precise location.
In your wildest dreams, did you imagine that a recreational drug could be so thoroughly, piously sterilized? But here it is. First came Cesamet (a “synthetic cannabinoid”), then Marinol (also synthetic). Only one pesky side effect has remained: Cesamet produces “euphoria in the recommended dosage range,” and Marinol causes “easy laughing” and “elation.” We can’t have that. So the quest to “separate the thresholds for symptom relief and intoxication” continues. According to GW, delivery of Sativex as a spray “enables patients to titrate (adjust) their dose to achieve symptom relief without incurring an unacceptable degree of side effects.”All of which underscores Human Nature’s basic question about the war on drugs. Namely: What do you mean by drugs? A war on cigarettes or on nicotine? A war on caffeinated but not alcoholic beer? Legalization of “cannabinoid medication” but not cannabis?
Drugs can be, and are being, re-engineered every day. Nicotine and caffeine appear in new forms. Cannabis is an herb, then a powder, then a capsule, and now a spray, with significant chemical adjustments along the way. How do you fight an enemy that keeps changing? How do you recognize when it’s no longer your enemy?
Every feat of re-engineering challenges our moral and legal assumptions. In the case of Sativex, two positions are under attack: the left’s lazy tolerance of recreational marijuana in the guise of legalizing medical marijuana and the right’s opposition to medical marijuana on the grounds that it’s just a pretext. By refining, isolating, and standardizing pot’s medicinal effects, pharmaceutical companies are showing us how to separate the two uses. Are you for symptom relief or getting stoned? That used to be a fuzzy question. Now it’s concrete: Do you want the reefer or the spray?
(first posted on May 28, 2009…)
Pictures from Candys
Last Saturday I had a great time at the dance club Candys with Reese and the gang. It was some guy’s birthday…not really sure who. Met a bunch of cool people and made some good friends. (Namely Ashleigh!)
Reese was excited about the $8 jugs of beer.
Myself, Reese, Liam, Lucas, Tez and Matt
I think this is my all-time favorite pic from Australia so far. With Reese and Jono.
Ashleigh, Jenna and Michelle
Oh Jono...haha.
His hands were goin' up! Jono with Ash and I talkin' in the back ground.
Ah, Tez and Liam. So good!
Kings Cross shooting seals busy street | The Daily Telegraph
Last night I was at a club in Kings Cross called Candys. I had heard much about Kings Cross as it’s the red light district. Prostitution, violence, the lot. Stories of stabbings and fights all came to characterize this place for me before I had set foot on its streets.
During the day its just like any other street, but after midnight it turns into a different place. We exited the club at about 1:45 or so to find the streets FULL of club-goers. As we strolled along the sidewalks, making our way to a bus stop we passed one man flat on his back and another man crumpled up by a tree with a crowd around him. I didn’t see it, but apparently his face was drenched in blood.
After being ditched, Ashleigh and I caught a bus around 2:00am to head back to Pennant Hills. (To be fair to Reese, we weren’t maliciously ditched, more like passively ditched. We didn’t keep up with the group, focusing on our conversation instead…) Shortly after we left the following took place. Note that the Kings Cross train station is in the picture below, the start of my experience in the Cross…
Kings Cross shooting seals busy street
May 17, 2009 09:00am
POLICE sealed off part of a busy street in Kings Cross last night after pursuing a hooded gunman they believe had shot another man twice in the leg.
Officers chased the gunman down Bayswater Road after the shooting near Darlinghurst Road before losing sight of him around 2.40am.
A search of the surrounding area for the man was unsuccessful, police said.
Paramedics were called to the scene and the injured man was taken to St Vincent’s Hospital, where he remains in a serious but stable condition.
A crime scene was established and a number of witnesses interviewed while forensic examinations were conducted.
Crime scene … Police in Kings Cross after last night’s shooting. Pic: Gordon McComiskie
via Kings Cross shooting seals busy street | The Daily Telegraph.
Fern Tree, Karori Sanctuary, NZ
Fern Tree, Karori Sanctuary, NZ
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
Trekkin’ to the Outback-Uluru!
2.14.11-UPDATE–Read the edited and polished version of my time in the Red Center at SaintProse.com.
During the two-week Easter break many of my friends travelled all over Australia, and to New Zealand and Fiji. I was excited for my parents to come, but it also brought up a bit of frustration. I really wanted to explore Australia during that time, but I also wanted to be my parents’ tour guide and show them how I’d been living for the past two or three months. I expressed these feelings to them, and they offered to pay for a trip during the first week of the break, and for the second week I would accompany them to New Zealand. This felt like the best of both worlds, so I set out to plan my trip.
My goal was to get to Uluru, a rock sacred to the Aborigines in the direct center of Australia (pronounced Ooh-lah-rooh. Also known as Ayers Rock).
If you can't read it, the small yellow thumbtack with text next to it is Uluru.
Uluru--stunning ain't it?
I headed to the campus’ travel agent and queried about flights and costs and such. Turns out that a return ticket to Alice Springs, the city that one must fly in to to see Uluru, cost between $750-800 Australian dollars during the break. With the two-night tour costing $450 AUD, it was a bit overboard.
I decided to reschedule for a different weekend, one that was in less of a holiday time-frame, which would bring the flight prices down. That different weekend is next weekend. I leave on May 22 and return May 25. I depart from Sydney at 9:50am and arrive in Alice Springs at 12:45pm. I then spend the night in Alice Springs and head out to Uluru the following day.
The following is the Itinerary…
HIGHLIGHTS
- Aussie swag’ option is available for passengers wishing to “sleep under the stars”!
- Full rim hike and camp oven dinner at Kings Canyon
- Uluru sunset with sparkling Australian wine
- Uluru sunrise and Uluru base walk
- Permanent campsites at Kings
ITINERARY
Day 1 – Alice Springs or Uluru to Kings Canyon
Departing Alice at 12.00noon, we travel through a variety of outback scenery including vibrant red dune country and the craggy ranges of Central Australia. One of our rest stops is the Aboriginal-owned Mt Ebenezer Roadhouse with its excellent art gallery. Settle into our secluded campsite near Kings Canyon with comfortable permanent twin-share tents (yes, we do have decent toilets and showers out there!) and lend a hand as we cook up some top tucker tonight (dinner)! An ‘Aussie swag’ is available for those wishing to sleep under the stars!
Meals: Dinner
Day 2 – Kings Canyon to Uluru
The full 6km Kings Canyon rim walk takes 3 plus hours (and requires an early start!) led by your knowledgeable driver-guide. Admire the sandstone domes of the Lost City, sheer cliff top views along the North and South Walls and the almost tropical Garden of Eden. Our journey to Uluru passes the table-topped Mt Conner and a break at Curtin Springs Station Roadhouse, the only service point on the 300km drive from Kings Creek to Yulara. Lunch is en-route and the late afternoon takes in the Cultural Centre followed by sparkling wine at the Uluru sunset. Our campsite at Yulara also offers excellent facilities including permanent twin-share tents (swag option also available) and all that we need to prepare another tasty dinner.
Meals: Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner
Day 3 – Uluru & Kata Tjuta
Up nice and early for Uluru sunrise, followed by a choice of base walks (recommended) or the climb (the Anangu traditional owners request visitors not to). Of special interest are the many sacred sites around the Base, notably the Mala & Mutitjulu waterholes – small springs supporting life since the Dreamtime. We then hike and explore amongst the many sandstone domes at Kata Tjuta.
Either finish at Yulara at 12 noon (B) or stay aboard and arrive back in Alice Springs in the early evening (accommodation drop offs available).Meals: Breakfast, Lunch
From http://www.travelaust.com.au/adventure/nt/asp008.html
Now, I don’t want to talk too much about Uluru is because I would like to cover that in the posts post-Uluru, but I’ll give you some info here, a la wikipedia. Uluru is a ‘large sandstone rock formation in the southern part of the Northern Territory, central Australia.’ It is pretty strikingly remote, with the ‘nearest large town (being) Alice Springs; 450 km (280 mi) by road.’ It is also listed as a ‘World Heritage Sight’. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uluru).
Uluru is one of Australia’s most recognisable natural icons. The world-renowned sandstone formation stands 348 m (1,142 ft) high (863 m/2,831 ft above sea level) with most of its bulk below the ground, and measures 9.4 km (5.8 mi) in circumference. Both Uluru and Kata Tjuta have great cultural significance for the Aṉangu Traditional landowners, who lead walking tours to inform visitors about the local flora and fauna, bush foods and the Aboriginal dreamtime stories of the area.
Uluru is notable for appearing to change colour as the different light strikes it at different times of the day and year, with sunset a particularly remarkable sight when it briefly glows red. Although rainfall is uncommon in this semiarid area, during wet periods the rock acquires a silvery-grey colour, with streaks of black algae forming on the areas that serve as channels for water flow. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uluru).
For this trip I spent a large amount of money for a relatively short time, but I know it will be worth it. Many people never get the chance to get this far into Australia (even the locals!). This is the definition of ‘Outback’. Red rock, scorching sun, flat for miles; it will be like nothing I have ever seen before. I am extremely excited! Gotta stock up on memory cards and get a small, portable camera tri-pod! Oh, and look for a post or posts the following week after the trip.
Here are a few more interesting tidbits to leave you with…
Following text taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uluru.
Aṉangu continue to hunt and gather animal species in remote areas of the park and on anangu land elsewhere. Hunting is largely confined to the Red Kangaroo,Bush Turkey, Emu and lizards such as the Sand Goanna and Perentie.
Uluru – Kata Tjuta National Park flora represents a large portion of plants found in Central Australia. A number of these species are considered rare and restricted in the park or the immediate region. There are many rare and endemic plants at Uluru and Kata Tjuta.
The growth and reproduction of plant communities rely on irregular rainfall. Some plants are able to survive fire and some are dependent on it to reproduce. Plants are an important part of Tjukurpa, and there are ceremonies for each of the major plant foods. Many plants are associated with ancestral beings.
Trees such as the Mulga and Centralian Bloodwood are used to make tools such as spearheads, boomerangs and bowls. The red sap of the bloodwood is used as a disinfectant and an inhalant for coughs and colds.
The park receives an average rainfall of 307.7 mm (12.1 in) per year, and average temperatures are 37.8 °C (100.0 °F) in the summer and 4.7 °C (40.5 °F) in the winter. Temperature extremes in the park have been recorded at 45 °C (113 °F) during the summer and −5 °C (23 °F) during winter nights. UV levels are extreme most days, averaging between 11 and 15.[8]
Local Aboriginal people recognise five seasons:
- Piriyakutu (August/September) – Animals breed and food plants flower
- Mai Wiyaringkupai (November/December) – The hot season when food becomes scarce
- Itjanu (January/February/March) – Sporadic storms can roll in suddenly
- Wanitjunkupai (April/May) – Cooler weather
- Wari (June/July) – Cold season bringing morning frosts
There are a number of differing accounts given, by outsiders, of Aboriginal ancestral stories for the origins of Uluru and its many cracks and fissures. One such account, taken from Robert Layton’s (1989) ULURU: An Aboriginal history of Ayers Rock,[10] reads as follows:
“Uluru (Ayers Rock) was built up during the creation period by two boys who played in the mud after rain. When they had finished their game they travelled south to Wiputa ..Fighting together, the two boys made their way to the table topped Mount Conner, on top of which their bodies are preserved as boulders” (Page 5)
Two other accounts are given in Norbert Brockman’s (1997) Encyclopedia of Sacred Places.[11] The first tells of serpent beings who waged many wars around Uluru, scarring the rock. The second tells of two tribes of ancestral spirits who were invited to a feast, but were distracted by the beautiful Sleepy Lizard Women and did not show up. In response, the angry hosts sang evil into a mud sculpture that came to life as the dingo. There followed a great battle, which ended in the deaths of the leaders of both tribes. The earth itself rose up in grief at the bloodshed, becoming Uluru.
The local Aṉangu do not climb Uluru because of its great spiritual significance. They request that visitors not climb the rock, partly due to the path crossing a sacred traditional Dreamtime track, and also due to a sense of responsibility for the safety of visitors to their land. The Aṉangu believe they have a spiritual connection to Uluru, and feel great sadness when a person dies or is injured whilst climbing.
On 11 December 1983, the Prime Minister Bob Hawke promised to hand back the land title to the Aṉangu traditional owners and agreed to the community’s 10-point plan which included forbidding the climbing of Uluru. However, the government set access to climb Uluru and a 99-year lease, instead of the previously agreed upon 50-year lease, as conditions before the title was officially given back to the Aṉangu.[16]
Climbing Uluru is a popular attraction for visitors. A chain handhold added in 1964 and extended in 1976 makes the hour-long climb easier, but it is still a long (800 m/0.5 mi) and steep hike to the top, where it can be quite windy. An above-average level of fitness and a high tolerance to desert conditions is required. Climbing Uluru is generally closed to the public when high winds are recorded at the top. Over the years there have been at least 35 deaths relating to climbing incidents.
The Aṉangu also request that visitors do not photograph certain sections of Uluru, for reasons related to traditional Tjukurpa beliefs. These areas are the sites of gender-linked rituals, and are forbidden ground for Aṉangu of the opposite sex of those participating in the rituals in question. The photographic ban is intended to prevent Aṉangu from inadvertently violating this taboo by encountering photographs of the forbidden sites in the outside world.[17][8]
Tourist Drive, Akaroa, NZ
Tourist Drive, Akaroa, NZ
Originally uploaded by PeterJosef
My New Favo(u)rite Politician
I frequent the Huffington Post; it’s the way I get my news these days. A few days ago I came across the headline of ‘Jesse Ventura-I Would Waterboard Cheney.’ I thought, “I’d pay money to see that!” (actually not…it would just be sad…) and clicked on the videos. I was amazed at what I saw. Larry King, one of the worst interviewers on television, was interviewing Jesse Ventura, a politician I’d heard a ton about but never listened to. Remember, the ex-professional wrestler that was elected governor of Minnesota back in ’98?
After watching this interview Jesse Ventura became my new favorite politician. He covers torture (he was waterboarded in Navy SEAL training), drug legalization, the continuing Franken/Coleman battle, Cuban relations, Bush, Rush Limbaugh, gay marriage, Guantanamo Bay, and more. He’s one of the first politicians that I’ve heard speak his mind, and he was a successful politician! We need him back.
–ζ——δ——ζ–
