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9/7/2006 Way Down Under (Day 3)Body Polishing As a kid growing up in Houston, I spent many a day body-surfing the “waves” of Galveston Beach. I put the word “waves” in quotes because I actually “frolicked” in some legitimate waves this afternoon! You’ll see why “frolicked” is in quotes in just a paragraph or two.
There were some big storms that blew through early this morning, and they must have pulled some big waves in behind them. Waves were breaking close to ten feet on the beach during breakfast (breakfast is “breaky” here). There were already plenty of surfers in full wet suits screaming through the curls and having a blast as I made my way to work. I made a mental note to get back from work as early as possible to do some body surfing!
How can I describe this? I’m no fluid dynamics genius, but what I saw on the beach just blew me away. Wave after monstrous wave mercilessly beat up the beach and I couldn’t wait to get in and tap my considerable body surfing skills! Lacking a wetsuit, and any other protection save my Lifetime fitness swim goggles, I said a quick prayer to ask God to protect me from any of the numerous deadly creatures that swam in the midst, and into the water I went!
My teeth were chattering involuntarily, even before my head broke the surface of the water. My lips were blue, and I kicked into a swim stroke to head out to the breakers in an attempt to warm up… all the while, I was ignoring the intelligent little voice you get in your head when you turn 40 that was screaming, “Go BACK you idiot, Go BACK!” It wasn’t long before I was treading water in 6 feet of crystal clear ocean. You could look down and see the fish, the skates, rays, rocks, coral, and sand. It was beautiful... momentarily. For moments later, I wasn’t in 6 feet of water anymore, I was in 5, then 4 as my feet touched sand and rock. Three… What the? TWO! I turned in time to see a wave (the first in a new “set”) higher than my ceiling stretching over me. All of the water that was being sucked into the wave was rapidly disappearing below me and the force of it was enough to rip my ankles right out from underneath me. I became a small stone in a vast tumbling polisher that rolled me over and over, using the rocks and sand as a fine polishing grit before depositing me on the beach in a wet and shiny heap. Wow.
That intelligent little voice in my head was laughing at me. I had sand in all of the pockets of my swim trunks and in other “pockets” as well. I felt fortunate to have retained my trunks at all, yet all I could think was, “I can do better than that!” Besides, at this point it felt warmer in the water than it did on the beach. A quick consultation with Jesus, and I was back in the water. Two or three solid douche-tumbles later, I was getting the hang of it and eventually, I managed to sail “chest first” along the crest of the wave, all the way to the beach! The cost was high though, it took all of the effort and adrenaline I had (plus the loss of all my calouses and more than an acceptable amount of skin) just to make it back up the beach and into my hotel room. Lying here listening to the endless pounding of those waves… there has GOT to be a way to harness that energy for electricity or something. The power they bring to the beach is remarkable.
The Mafia My driver this week is an ancient Italian gentleman named Billi. I call him my “driver” but actually, he’s a cabbie. I generously over-tipped him once, and he gave me his card with his private mobile number on it. Now when I call, he comes to get me. We’ve had some great conversations about Florence, Rome, good food, etc. He has the same accent Tony Soprano’s grandfather would have had. Anyway, I noticed yesterday afternoon and this morning that he doesn’t use the meter anymore when he drives me around… we get where we’re going and he looks at me and says, “Thatta looksa like abouta fifteena dollares, no?” I say, “uh, yea, fifteen sounds fair. Twenty even!” Then more sheepishly, “can I have a receipt?” He laughs, “sure, sure… I getta you a receipt my friend… whatever you need, I getta for you! Maybe some day you do-a me a favor too, no?” He’s a very “interesting” character. Thank GOD he doesn’t have my mobile number, address, wife’s name, etc…
Blinded by Science I briefly saw the science center this afternoon. I have a kooky friend Dave who’s borderline obsessed with rocks. If you ever drive through Savage, MN and you see a short blond beatnik character in knee high rubber boots standing alone in the middle of a field staring down at the dirt… its Dave.
Word around town was, the science center sells interesting agates and other rocks unique to Australia so I thought I’d have a look. This is the best and most advanced children’s museum I’ve ever seen! Every morning, they use a bulldozer to bury a dinosaur (fiberglass “bones,” I’m sure) in a big dirt field. They give kids small picks and shovels and archeological brushes, etc, and send them out on a “dig!” They’re so cute with their little brows furrowed in complete concentration as they dig and clean their bones! They bring their finds back to the museum curators with all the seriousness of a genuine field scientist. I’m sure they go straight home to repeat the process in their back yards… which is why we don’t have kids… J Rain, Rocks, and Railroads
According to the news, last night’s storm caused a landslide of boulders and rocks onto the train tracks. I have no idea if the trains will be running in the morning which is “gitchy” because I have to come home tomorrow and the only other way through the mountains is via a sketchy bus service or on the back of a kangaroo. Maybe I could body surf? 9/6/2006 Way Down Under (Day 2)Pools of Death People eat dinner at a later hour here. Most restaurants don’t fill up until 8pm or so. I walked in to a nice seafood restaurant last night around 6:30 and was seated alone at a table outside in view of the ocean. I struck up a conversation with the waiter that went something like this: Me: Do you know when the tide goes back out? I’d like to have a look at those tidal pools down there. Him: CRIKEY Mate, some of the most POISONOUS and DEADLY animals in the WORLD are living in those pools! Me: No way. Him: Absolutely! Blue Ringed Octopus, Stonefish, Box Jellies, Lionfish, HUGE Moray eels and such… Me: Whoa. So you don’t recommend walking around and looking in after them? Him: No, I didn’t say that. Just be careful not to trip into the wrong one or anything. Beautiful. Let’s recap… There are creatures in tidal pools here that are smaller than the width of your thumbnail that can kill you in 3 minutes or less. There are creatures in the surf (Great White sharks, heart shredding sting rays, poisonous sea snakes, etc) that can kill you quicker than that and more violently, besides. Suddenly, the dark ocean seemed to smile and wink at me as I sat there with my basket of crackers. The tidal pools will still be there tomorrow when the sun is out and I can see where I’m walking… right? Polar Bears at 6:00! The next morning, I grabbed my camera and double checked the strap and its connectors before putting it around my neck (safety first from now on), and I headed out at 5:30 for a look around the tidal pools. After all, that blue ringed octopus from the James Bond movie “Octopussy” was one of the coolest animals I’ve ever seen. I made my way down the beach and discovered a local group of Polar Bear swimmers getting ready to take the plunge into the ocean! Several questions came to mind:
I approached and asked the sweetest 80 year old woman in the world some of these questions. The water was 56 degrees. That’s C_O_L_D, people! I think the water in the lap pool at the gym is 70. She was a delightful woman, intent on having some exercise before breakfast and I began to think that if I were her; perhaps a 30 second ride to heaven at the hands of an angry jelly-fish is a better way to “buy a harp” than rotting away in a retirement center, drooling prune juice all over my gown! Tomorrow, I swim!! What on earth… ? I sleep here at night with the windows open, listening to the ocean waves, etc. This morning at 5am, I awoke to a harsh, loud screaming noise! I would have sworn in court that it was a woman screaming! I sat straight up, and for a brief moment I actually considered calling the front desk to report the apparent abuse of a woman somewhere in Wollongong. But then I heard it again. And again. Over and over, with the exact same rhythm and cadence! It wasn’t a distressed woman, or screaming baby… it was a bird! Minah birds, Magpies, and wild ruby breasted parrots are all natives here and they can all mimic whatever sound they like. The locals tell me they hear them sounding car alarms and police sirens all the time. Thank God these birds weren’t around in Indonesia, can you imaging hearing the Muslim call to prayer 24 hours per day? Sucked In! The English language isn’t necessarily “English” here in Australia. Liquor stores are “bottle O’s” (spelled ‘Bottlo’) for example (sounds like a really cool breakfast cereal to me). Another example? Suppose you tell your child NOT to stick a penny into the electrical socket… suppose you tell him that 5 or 6 times and he does it anyway. Once the little tyke has recovered from being shot across the room, you’d tell him, “well then, you got a bit sucked in there didn’t you?” Here’s another one… suppose it’s a beautiful sunny 70 degree windless day and the fish are biting! You’re NOT sick, but you are going to call your boss and tell him that you are so you can take the boat out. That’s called, “Chucking a Sickie!” I’ll post more when I hear them. Steve Irwin RIP I suppose it’s just a coincidence that Steve Irwin was fatally struck by an angry Stingray mere minutes after my plane landed here in Sydney. We flew right over the Great Barrier Reef too, perhaps I should have looked out the window… hollered out a “lookout Steve!?” In any event, he was truly a national hero and will be sorely missed by the Aussies. His family was offered a state funeral. True to life though… he was just “sucked in!” 9/5/2006 WAY Down Under!Flight Hours and the truth about Business Class
17 hours in a plane... not everyone could do it, I guess. Its weird to sit and watch two complete movies, eat dinner, stand up, walk around, stretch; and realize that you are still more than THREE HOURS to the half way point of your flight! My friend Cordell has this advice: "Dude, you get your doctor to give you a perscription to Ambien, then if it says 'Do not drink alcohol while taking this medication,' just slam three for four beers and shot of whiskey or two before taking two of those pills! You'll sleep through EVERYTHING for 15 straight hours!" When I asked my doctor about that advice he told me, "That's pretty much true. You'll drool, fart, jerk around, and generally ooze lots of other foul body odors and fluids during the process too." When I mentioned this to Cordell he simply said, "So?" I went for the business class upgrade instead.
For those of you who are curious, the regular coach class fare to Australia is around $1,100 US. The upgrade to business class is (take a deep breath, or sit down if you're standing) $12,500 (yes, over twelve THOUSAND U.S. dollars). Why so high? Because businesses in the US pay it, of course. What do you get for that money? A slice of heaven. I had a Filet Mignon for dinner, medium rare with a hollandaise peppercorn sauce and grilled aparagus. The chocolate torte for dessert was awesome and the selection of Australian wines was top notch. Many movies were available along with a massage chair that reclined 180 degrees for comfortable sleeping. The lavatories had fragrant rose petals on a hot towel to freshen the atmosphere, and we all received slippers, ear plugs, a quality set of headphones, silken sleep masks, toothbrushes, hand lotion, and a box of mints. The fruit, snack, and sandwich buffet was endless I'll bet if I asked the flight attendant to read me a story, he wouldn't have hesitated.
I digress... this is about my latest destination: Wollongong Australia!!
Wollongonged
I left San Francisco at 10pm on a Friday night. The plane touched down in Sydney at 7am on Monday morning (I have no idea what happened to Sunday, nor do I have any memory of it whatsoever... If you're ever in court and they ask you about your whereabouts, just say, "I was flying to Australia that day" and I'm sure they'll understand). I picked up my bags and went straight to the train station where I bought a ticket for Wollongong. 96 minutes later, I'd arrived!
Wollangong is beautiful! Their motto is "Wollongong, city of diversity!" I'm not making that up. Their real motto should be, "Oh, you can get/do/find that in Sydney!" Everything I've asked to see or buy is met with that phrase, "Oh, they have those in Sydney!" or "Gee, will you be going to Sydney any time soon?" The city itself is sort of a Twilight Zone episode for me. If you've ever been to Venice Beach, CA; you've been to Wollongong... sort of. Wollongong and Venice cities look very very much alike. If you went to Venice Beach and moved all of the steering wheels in the cars to the other side and switched the roads around, then replaced all the palms with eucalyptus trees (by the way, I learned that eucalyptus trees give off some weird gas that's highly explosive. They're known to spontaneously explode when the weather and other conditions are right! They're pretty though, and Koala bears love them... so Lisa will want some for the yard when I get home), you'd have the same salt corroded, mildly wind eroded, average filthy town of Wollongong. They mine coal here and mill steel too so it has a bit of Pittsburgh suburb thrown in for good measure.
One thing Wollangong has that no place anywhere NEAR the U.S. has however, is a pristine beach! I've never seen water so clear! The tidal pools are three to six feet deep (some of them) and yet you can count the spines on the urchins on the bottom! With sand like sugar and cliffs and rocks and tidal pools all along the beach as far as you can see, these beaches have to be among the most beautiful in the world.
Old Age and Coordination
Speaking of tidal pools... You may notice a lack of pictures in these Australian posts. Well, there's a good reason. The short version is, I dropped my digital camera into a tidal pool. I could make up a story about a swooping magpie that would have killed me had my cat-like reflexes not intervened, but the simple truth is... I carried and used this same digital camera from the breweries in Wisconsing to the Volcanos of Indonesia, only to drop it into the first Australian tidal pool I could find. Splooch. Done. I've blow-dried it, disassembled it, yelled at it... its over. Saltwater and highly sensitive and calibrated electronics just don't mix, I suppose. The shame of it is, I had pictures of my friend Jamie and I "manning it up" on an OCC chopper from the "American Chopper" TV show in that camera. Gone. Don't hassle me about it, I've beat myself up enough. Fortunately, I brought along my Canon EOS Rebel analog camera as a backup and I'm paying $10 per roll of film to make up for it. Pictures WILL come to this thread eventually.
Wallabies and Roos
I walked for about an hour through Wollongong's botanical gardens today. You should see the pictures! (I know... I know...) My host was walking me through the garden and we started to compare "garden pests" in Australia vs. the USA. I told her of our rabbits and possums; she told me of vexing Wallabies and Kangaroos. Sorry, if I found a Wallaby in my garden, I'd have to encourage it to stay! They're so darned cute! Roos are cute too, but they get bigger and surley. When a 6 foot kangaroo decides he likes your garden, its HIS garden moving forward. They're not as skittish as a white dailed deer. Whereas a white tailed deer would hear the screen door of your back porch open and RUN, a male roo would here the noise, become annoyed by it, hop on over, and kick you square in the mouth when you walked outside!
Mighty Vegemite!
I KNOW WHAT VEGEMITE IS! You know what I'm talking about... we've all heard the song, "She just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich!" As a homebrewer, I'm familiar with the sticky "leavings" that form at the bottom of a yeast spent fermentation tank... When home made beer ferments, the ingredients inside the tank include: yeast, hops, water, barley malt, and grain. Reading from a tube of Vegemite I see: "Yeast Extract, Barley Malt, Grain Extracts, Mineral Salt" So... vegemite is simply all of the CRAP you don't want left in your beer (with some black food coloring added for good measure)! Its like a spoiled rotten malt flavored power-bar. Its great on toast...
Spring is HERE!
Its true, they are four days into springtime and its just as beautiful as it could be. The botanical gardens were awesome and the beach is spectacular. Whales make an appearance every now and again, and a pod of dolphins comes by fairly regularly. It is 68 degrees so I'm off for my daily beach walk.
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