STOP. hammertime.

Aussies and Roos, Part 3: The Great Ocean Road, Adelaide, and The South Pacific's Biggest Tourist Trap this side of Bangkok (AKA Cairns)

I would like to begin by noting what may in fact be a tautological consequence, like your mother (for those of you in on that particular joke): the Great Ocean Road is great...for which quality I imagine it is so named. It is rather long, and the weather truly does not know what it is about, but on those moments when it chooses to be sunny and not rainy, it is one of the most phenomenally beautiful places I have seen. I qualify sunny "and not rainy," by the way, because on several occasions it chose to be both sunny and rainy, which generally defies the imagination. This was good and bad: good because we saw at least two dozen rainbows, some of which were very large, and bad because I never had any CLUE what to wear. It was so strange. But I digress. The sights were incredible, from massive limestone stacks and cliffs (the 12 Apostles -- wikipedia it!) to clear water, quaint little towns along the way and gorgeous sunsets. As horrifyingly bad as I am at describing natural beauty, I will say that what set it apart from a million other places of its kind must be the bold colors everywhere. Whoever painted the landscape here truly did not do so in half-measures: the sea and sky are beautiful blues, the cliff faces earthy browns, the surf brilliant white. The colors people ascribe to such things might have been INVENTED here. That is what it seems to me.

To be fair, The Great Ocean Road would not have had nearly the charm had our tour group not been an excellent set of personages spanning the globe. Suffice to say that at every stop along the way, we would inevitably collect a case or three of beer, a few bottles of wine, etc., and then throw a small party at each night's destination. One of those included the resident Dutch girls screaming at 4:45 in the morning as France's soccer team experienced outright catastrophe at the hands of Holland. The French among us were not so pleased. There were a couple of Brits along for the ride, with whom we got on quite well, in addition to a smattering of other folks. Sam even had to bust out the Korean to talk to a single Korean fellow who spoke almost no English, yet managed to beat James the Englishman (this I dub him hereafter) at a very English-language-oriented game called Yee Haw. Yee Haw requires a personal explanation; seek me out and we will try it, over beer. I promise you will be entertained.

In any case, this, in addition to a trip through (and in one case atop one of) the Grampians, was a great deal of fun. Partly this was due to the natural scenery, as I already mentioned. In some respects it was also due to the activities, for more than one reason: an excellent hike/rock climb resulted in losing our American friend Jenny, who somehow managed to fall behind and then GET LOST on a very simple, straightforward trail. A trailblazed trail. With arrows. Bright yellow arrows. Even the rather heavyset French chef and hotel manager who SPLIT HIS PANTS and sweated every step of the way managed to keep up with us like a trooper. Not so Jenny, but alas, we can't all be perfect. Anyway, the tearing of the pants was another reason why this was excellent. Either Sam or I could have jumped through the hole in that poor fellow's jeans.

So I have enumerated two reasons. There are two more. First, WE SAW FLIPPING KANGAROOS! It was so good! We took pictures! They are really, really, really WEIRD creatures that defy rational explanation, except to say that they are cute when they stand up (though not as cute as sleeping koalas, which we also saw), utterly ungainly when they hop, and are about as common as your average squirrel. One hopes they don't throw acorns because they are in sufficient number to truly bury you in such small, forest-spawned projectiles. Finally, last, but not least, were the road signs. We now have pictures of ourselves draped over koala signs, emu signs, and of course, kangaroo signs. More importantly, on our way down from a brief stop at a waterfall, we came across an unusual stop sign. This stop sign was in many ways ordinary, but in one, it was not. Some excellent bloke decided to adorn this particular stop sign with HAMMERTIME in huge letters written beneath it.

Needless to say, I scrambled out of the bus as fast as my legs would carry me and took about twelve pictures. Such opportunities do not come your way often.

So. The Great Ocean Road, and the Grampians. My last note is that we have eaten kangaroo and it is tasty, and with that, I leave this matter entirely. We then stayed in Adelaide, where we had some very cheap and slightly icky (yet satisfying) Chinese food, drank a bit, walked around a good bit, and found the National Wine Centre, which was the most unutterably boring wine-related endeavor I have ever laid eyes upon. This deeply unsettled me, and I shall not mention it again. We then found yet more Chinese food -- I will be fat if I continue to eat dumplings at my current rate -- and went to a small pub called Grace Emily, which was a rather excellent establishment but for one thing. Uppity barkeeper. There is nothing in the world of bars that I hate more than a really uppity barkeep, and this woman had it down pat. I think she just didn't like foreigners, but she was the type where if you order a drink, she rephrases it and emphasizes "PLEEEEEASE" as if we weren't polite enough when we asked. I guess "I CAN HAZ BEER?" wasn't good enough for her. Pah. Do not want.

Alas. The several British and one American from our hostel that came to join us there all got the same treatment, more or less, so we banded together and had a good time anyway. Had a good long chat with one English guy in particular, in fact, whose name I fear I never learned -- he said it, but in that most undiscernable of ways, which is to say "quietly with a thick English accent in the middle of a crowded, loud bar having an open mic night," and I didn't get a chance to ask him again -- but who was excellent. He might facebook me. Then I will know who he is. In any case, we talked about exchange rates and cheap places to travel the world, and then took our leave to rest for our 8:30 flight this morning to Cairns. And now I speak with you.

So again, I fear this is jumbled and difficult to understand, and it is truly only the most superficial of coverage of our Australian journey. I assure you if I had the time to proofread it better -- or write it better in the first place -- I would. Unfortunately, with internet cost being what it is, and with the level of abject destitution (or in my case, sheer unbridled debt to my parents) in which we find ourselves, you're going to have to untangle it as best you can and just ask us questions when we arrive home.

When not dodging wallabies and trying not to fall off cliffs, I assure you that we do spend time missing all of you, more or less. Well, I don't miss Steve. He makes me change my font from orange to black. But I assure you that we are still your friends! See you when we get back -- and tune in next time! Same bat time, same bat channel.

(And by the way, that's pertinent: Batman founded Melbourne.)

I can haz eyeball?

AUSSIES AND ROOS! Part deux.

Ok well first I just figured out how to play with my font, and my life isn't the same unless i get to be orange Trebuchet MS. Please forward any complaints to Steve; seems he won't email you in response, so you can whine to your heart's content and never have any repercussions! Hooray!

Anyway, I have a bit of ground to cover with this post and I've only 31 minutes with which to do it, so this might be a tad garbled. My apologies.

We landed in Sydney, which is a beautiful city containing an Opera House, a Bridge, many Harbours (with a u) and just about the best damn Chinese and Korean food you can find anywhere. For nearly cheap as free compared to every other cuisine around. Which is the reason why, at the time of this writing, we have eaten nothing but Chinese, Korean, Japanese and Vietnamese food since landing in Australia, with the sole exception of a hot dog and meat pie when we had no alternative (and when I wanted a meat pie, which I can finally get here, dammit, and they are tasty). Living on the cheap never tasted so good. Frankly, I found Sydney to have little else. We stayed in Kings Cross, which is "the dodgy part of town" according to our Dutch friend Tim, and other than having a lot of grimy "Gentleman's Clubs" and a few sad little clubs that are not grimy but are kind of sad, there is not too much to be said for it. Entertaining side note: in Empire, a "dodgy" dance club in this lovely area (verily the least sketchy place in town, but nonetheless) Sam disappeared whilst I was in the bathroom, prompting me to wander about aimlessly in search of him. At this time, two large fellows accosted me, and the dialogue went something like this:

"Excuse me, I think you need to leave."
"I'm looking for my friend."
"Oh, skinny kid, looks like you? Is he your brother? I think we threw him out."
"Oh. Ok then."
"So you should go."
"Nah."

At which point I brazenly walked back into the club in search of Sam, who, being not my brother, I assumed was still around somewhere. Nope. He was outside. I promptly found him and we went home. And other than a very interesting market and a huge crocodile in the Sydney aquarium, I don't have a whole lot else to say regarding Sydney. Nice enough place, and very clean, but rather sterile overall. Sam might elucidate.

Hookay, so. This is the Melbourne. Damn, that is a sweet Melbourne, you might say (ROUND!) -- we are here, and are actually about to tour the aptly named Great Ocean Road (aptly because I understand it is a road, along the ocean, that is great). But I am getting ahead of myself. Melbourne! This is undeniably the strangest city I have ever been to in several respects, and I love it. I shall enumerate:

-- Sam and I are here, and we add delightful chaos to anyplace we go, for everyone -- EVERYONE -- believes us to be Canadian. Three different bartenders and a small herd of schoolchildren thought we were from Ottawa or thereabouts. Perhaps we smell funny. We also have spent enough time around non-American Anglo-centric people that we are starting to talk a little oddly, and I think that's part of it. One person insisted we didn't sound enough like Americans to be American. Perhaps when I come home I will truly sound as though I am from Canada, eh?

-- It has a variety of unusual, Bohemian, hip, or downright STRANGE establishments tucked into back alleys. When I say back alley, I'm not referring to "The Train Tracks in Charlottesville" kind of back alley, nor even to the sort of place wherein lies the door to Satellite Ballroom (may it rest in peace). I mean grafitti-covered, alcove-ridden, dark and shadowy places meant only for skulking thieves and discontented malcontents waiting to relieve unwitting small children of their lunch money. Apparently the Aussies think they are also meant for sweet bars. I don't know where they get these ideas, but it is true: a brief foray into Paynes Place, an alley with more brightly colored paint on its walls than the amount of hair gel used by the average Australian male per year (and that is saying something), revealed Croft Alley, at the end of which could be found the Croft Institute. It is a weird, and expensive, but overall excellent nightlife experience. And here I thought we were just going to get mugged, courtesy of my overzealous travel guide.

-- Japanese food is cheap. Where has that ever happened before in the known world? That janx is expensive even in TOKYO.

-- The weather really can't make up its mind. Lots of rain and bright sun in the same day, with associated winds or not-winds. Very bizarre.

-- They serve beer in ten oz. "pots" here, or 15 oz. "schooners," and pints are officially 20 oz. I will never understand this nonsense.

-- FANTA COSTS $3.50. WHAT THE HELL? I DISAGREE WITH THIS.

Anyway, I've run myself out of time, so I shall continue my contribution to our inestimable weblog upon completion of our tour of: THE GREAT OCEAN ROAD!

That is all. Many thanks for reading; I hope you enjoy.

Aussies. And roos.

I prepare to foray 'round the world! Such ministrations to the gods of Packing are not to be taken lightly. These rituals are themselves an incursion into unfamiliar and forbidding territory, a negotiation of stymying choice and difficult paths leading to unforeseeable and dire consequence. Take this dilemma: to bring the canteen, or the machete?

United Airlines settled that one. Alas, the propriety of international flight.

So yeah, Sam and I are about to find ourselves in Australia, and I think we're prepared for it even though I'm not sure it's really sunk in that we decided to do this. At least it hasn't for me; this was all a harebrained idea that somehow actually happened, and I'm still not sure how. We don't yet have a place to stay, but I think we'll take care of that tonight. We know where we want to stay. Sort of. We have about half a million options and will be picking one soon. It doesn't really matter: no one goes anywhere in the winter anyway!

Anyway, that's all for now. Because we haven't actually found any Aussies yet. Or Roos. Because we're still in Maryland. We will talk about them when we have a chance to examine them in person! And yes, Jed, I will fight a kangaroo for you if I can only get my hands on one.

Or maybe I'll get Sam to do it and take pictures. Yes, this is a good plan.

See you in July!

td