Well, the day had to come sooner or later when I'd be leaving Australia, and that day is today. I'm writing this from Gate 4, Terminal 1, Perth International Airport, as I wait to board my 5:30pm flight to Bali...we'll see how much I can squeeze into this little post before I begin to cut things really close.
It's been almost 11 months since I came here on this little adventure, but in a weird way it feels like no time has passed at all. In a sense it seems that I've just pushed the pause button on the rest of my life for a little bit of exploration time around the world, but sitting here right now, reflecting on the fact that it's been 11 months since I touched down in Sydney brings about a wistful sense of nostalgia about the opportunity I was privileged to have over the past year. Before I left to go traveling, I found that I was tired of the same, predictable routine where I really wasn't exposed to anything new, and what I really wanted was to throw myself into a situation (or series of adventures), where acceptable norms and the paradigm you live in are completely different than what you know. Looking back now, I've had the opportunity to get to know hundreds of young people like myself with an itch to travel, see new things, and just get a sense of the world we live in before settling down with real lives. I've met countless people older than me who spent years getting the adventure bug out of their system before settling down with something they really enjoy doing, which has given me great hope for someone like myself that is struggling to find their "place" in the big bad world. I have a great degree of confidence that the decision I made is one that's going to leave me in a better place in a few years' time, even if the trade-off means a little uncertainty right now. I've had the chance to work countless jobs that have challenged me in ways I never would have expected, from faux-managing a hotel, to working on a super-yacht, to working at a vineyard, and all the little ridiculous things I did in between. Though there are always things that I wish I would have done once I've left a place, I can look back upon the last year and have a high degree of confidence that there's little I regret not doing. Let me run down, off the top of my head, my favorite moments of the past year. 1) One morning in my first month in Port Macquarie, I went early-Sunday-morning surfing with Jess and Jono, two of the Aussies who ran the hostel. They had just got back from a trip around the world, and are still very much travelers themselves. They invited me to join just the two of them as we drove to a secret (well maybe not secret, but inaccessible for someone without a car) surf spot...nothing out of the ordinary, but a memorable time nonetheless. 2) While staying with Bec and Trent outside of Byron Bay in January, Lauren and I went to one of Trent's shows and hung out with all of his friends. After we got back to the house, the boys had a shed party, which I willingly joined. Trent, Diego, and Troy had 6 kids between them, and it was an awesomely eye-opening experience to hang out with guys who had kids, but still saw themselves as people and not just parents. This probably needs a bit more explanation to make sense, but alas, no time for this. 3) While camping on Fraser Island, Lauren and I took a walk out of the dingo enclosure to check out the night sky- I have never seen so many colors in one sunset. Virtually every color of the rainbow represented, and something I specifically didn't take a photo of, since it would hardly be able to capture the scene. Sometimes mental images are the best. 4) Having a ruckus little party at Pete's house one weekend with Lauren, Clemence and Victor. Pete, if you ever read this, we put the hot tub to good use. 5) The first time I took a breath underwater during scuba diving class was one of the most surreal experiences I've ever had, and I would highly recommend it to anyone who's interested. 6) The single day I spent at sea aboard Meduse. 7) My first day in Margaret River, when Margot, Cher and I went to check out our new apartment. Sitting on the lookout, watching the sun set, and realizing that I would make this place my home, and that it would be in my backyard for the next two months was an amazing, breathtaking experience. We must have seen 20-30 sunsets in our time there, but none stunned me like the first. 8) The day our little $500 Toyota Camry, Erna (Helpin' me Erna Dolla'), blew a head gasket in the middle of relative nowhere, and we had to hitchhike all over the place to get fuel, jump the car, throw in the towel on getting the car to work, tow it to our place, get rides to work- everything going off without a hitch, due to the kindness of strangers. 9) This past Friday, Margot, Cher and I went to Rottness Island, which is a small (~8milex4miles) island off the coast of Perth. Once there, you feel like you are in the Caribbean, and we spent the day biking around the island, reveling in the untouched beauty and the proximity to the largest metropolis in a 2000 mile radius. We also saw Quokkas. Despite the high percentage of fools running around this country, I've developed a soft spot for Australians and their way of life. They rarely take things seriously, if ever, and are quite fond of all things piss-related: taking the piss out of you (aka endlessly making fun of you or yanking your leg about something or other- it's a national obsession), getting on the piss (aka getting rip-roaring drunk at every socially acceptable and most socially non-acceptable opportunities), having a big piss-up (a large gathering of mates, all getting on the piss). I've rarely met a breed of people more willing to inconvenience themselves to help you out in any way; a refrain most heard is just "no dramas, mate" as someone helps you out. There's a mentality here, quite possibly stemming from convict times when all assistance felt like a lifetime away, where everyone needs to stick together and help each other out. I've very much gotten used to the incredibly relaxed lifestyle, where everyone still works hard until knock-off, but greatly values their free time. Quality of life is of paramount importance here, a mentality which I think the US would greatly benefit from. So what's next for me? Well, that remains to be seen. I'm off to spend a month in Bali with Lauren and Tyler, and explore a completely new culture and way of life. As for my dream to backpack around the world, I'm taking things one step at a time at this point, but in a sense I've opened my personal Pandora's Box with this whole long-term travel business...it's the first time in forever where I really find that I'm comfortable in my own skin, and that what I'm "doing with my life" is something that I can be proud to incorporate as part of my personal identity. So we'll see!! Until next time. Adinfern Estate’s tagline of “From Wool to Wine” is a double entendre of sorts. Merv started out as a sheep shearer back in the 1960’s, and worked his family’s land for years and years until the market for wool went bust in the 1990’s. He faced a tough decision: a) stay, and lose everything b) sell, at a catastrophic loss, or c) completely reinvent their business to work on something more profitable. He took a risk and went with “c”, and now finds himself the owner of a moderately successful vineyard. However, Merv still keeps a few flocks of sheep numbering upwards of 400 lambs and ewes. And 4 rams. (The rams get busy.)
The sheep are kept in a number of paddocks around the vineyard, rotating every few weeks after they’ve eaten the grass in one vineyard and need to move on to the next. This is where we (the vineyard hands) come in; as auxiliary shepherds. I’ve done this a few times now, and it’s actually pretty fun…6 or so people spread out widely across the paddock, and slowly march towards the sheep. One or two begin to look up, and these skittish little creatures bolt at the first realization that you are moving towards them. Once a single sheep starts running, they all take off in the same direction. Voila. The sheep are being herded. The difficulty comes when you need to direct them into a two-meter wide gate to into the next field, and a young lamb will stop for no apparent reason, look up at you, and debate whether or not to take off in the complete opposite direction (endangering the entire operation, since it may very well be followed by an additional hundred or so sheep)…at that point you need to stop and with a wide stance, and stare it down, feeling like a middle linebacker squaring off with a miniature, shit-covered Adrian Peterson… When these baby lambs are about a month or two old, they need to have their tales cut off. This sounds cruel and inhumane, but it’s actually for their own good. The tails are cesspools of filth and disease, and their lifespans are increased considerably by this sanitary ablution…and a few weeks ago I was selected to be a part of Merv’s crew that helped to cut the tails off of the newborn lambs. While it sounds crazy, I was actually pretty proud to be asked to help, since everyone else is a grizzled ‘ole farmboy, and most of you can attest to the fact that that’s pretty far from a moniker anyone might bestow upon your correspondent. We started out herding the sheep in the aforementioned manner, except that instead of going into another paddock, they are swept into a small, gated enclosure for drafting. Drafting is the process of sending them out of the enclosure one by one in order to separate the lambs from the ewes. Ewes back into the paddock, lambs into a much smaller gated enclosure. This is no small task, as the sheep will not sit still for anything, do not dare to move when you need them to, and decide to either all run through the exit at once, or none at all. After an excruciatingly long time, the lambs are finally separated from the ewes, and the tailing can begin. My task was to work with Cody rustling the lambs, one by one, from the enclosure and placing them in the tailing device. This means catching 100 baby lambs (coo all you like girls, but it’s not a pretty process) and placing them in a large metallic contraption that rotates them around to the different stations. We’ll refer to this contraption as the Lazy Susan. After fumbling with more than a few little buggers, I finally got my system down: come up behind a lamb and reach my left hand around its neck and gently pull up as the right slides down the backside of it’s front legs. As soon as you can feel the front legs are close enough together to hold with one hand, you grab them and hold on tight, sweeping the lamb upwards in a semi-circle so that it’s up on it’s back. It’s then surprisingly easy to grab hold of the back legs with your opposite hand. The majority of them decide to just chill out in this pose, but some of the larger ones require an extra helper since they can get heavy and quite fussy. The next step is to carry these little pups over to the Lazy Susan, laying them on their back in a little seat and strapping their hind legs through two hooks that ensure they aren’t going anywhere, with their business privy to all the world. The Lazy Susan is rotated, and the lamb now goes to Ray, who brands them on the ear and gives them an injection to vaccinate against whatever foot, hand, or mouth disease lambs may be susceptible to. If there is a pause in the action, the males get to enjoy their last few moments with whatever equipment we might use to identify them as, well, male. On goes the Lazy Susan to Merv, where the male equipment is secured with a small metallic ring that will cut off the circulation and cause it to fall off within a few days. Now picture a blowtorch (a laymen’s blowtorch, if you will) powered by a propane gas tank. Surround that blowtorch with a small cleaver-like knife that cuts right through the heart of the flame, and you will have some idea of what the tail-cutting device looks like. This device is then, ahem, applied, to the tail of the lamb, which comes right off in a stunningly queasy fluid motion. I’d surmise that there is a small vein running right through the tail, since it seemed as if every cut produced a small squirting fountain of blood (accompanied by a frantic “BAHHH”) that would arch up over the Lazy Susan and find it’s way to an LZ all too close to my person. The little bros are then unhooked from the rotating device and put on the ground, where they scamper off and jump with their awkward little legs high in the air off into the proverbial sunset. If this sounds like a pretty brutal process, it is. We did 250 lambs in one morning, split approximately 50/50 between Cody and I, meaning I caught approximately 125 lambs. Each is covered in dirty filth of a questionable excremental extract and weighs a good 20-50 pounds. Think of when you go to the gym and do kettlebell swings, clean and presses, or any other exercise designed to give you a full body workout. Now perform that same workout on a small little creature who doesn’t quite care to be caught, in an environment where you can’t take a break (especially when you are trying to prove your mettle as someone who doesn’t mind getting dirty), and it makes for one relieved Matty when it is Cody’s turn to pick up a lamb and he can take a moment’s rest. While I certainly won’t be engaging in any sheep-related pursuits the near future aside from a vague ambition to once again own a merino-wool sweater, this day certainly gave me a real appreciation for what goes into…well, let’s be honest, food production, since they are all being raised for slaughter and subsequent consumption. I’m not a vegetarian, and this experience didn’t convince me to become one, but it’s certainly instilled within me a greater sense of mindfulness and appreciation for where certain commodities come from, and an invigorated outlook for a “waste not, want not” mentality. Well I have to say, after a month or so, working on the vineyard is not quite what I thought it was going to be…but it’s one of those things where I have to ask myself, what did I expect it to be? What did I expect to get from this experience? I mean, I’m working on a vineyard, but is that worthwhile? Am I learning anything? Am I really working there, or might I have just worked in a field somewhere else? Among other various tasks (such as bottling wine), we’ve spent the vast majority of our time pruning grape vines, which I won’t get into the details of since I would prefer that you all keep reading this. It’s a great place to work, but in reality, I have little day-to-day exposure to the winemaking experience, which is what I was really looking for when I sought this job.
Yet I can look at this one of two ways, and that’s why the language I use to frame my experience and thus the subsequent attitude it forms is so important, since it has the ability to cast things in a positive or a negative light. The language that I choose to describe this experience both in conversation, but more importantly to myself, makes the experience real. So if I choose to take the negative side and think wow, I’m not learning anything about wine since I’m not being shown the process step by step, I bust my ass all day long, come home exhausted, and after a while my office (however beautiful it is) becomes just another place of business where there are whole days that go by where I don’t take a moment to appreciate where I am and what I’m doing…I don’t immerse myself in the marble stone architecture, and the witty conversation most people associate with wineries...that becomes my reality if I choose to describe my experiences from a negative point of view. Instead, I choose to think of my experience from the positive point of view and make a specific point to transform the positive point of view into my reality. I look at my current job as a learning experience, working in a boutique industry and having the unique opportunity to observe the business processes from the bottom up. Having the chance to work outdoors in a place that affords spectacularUnderstanding just how hard you need to work to make an expensive commodity like wine, and realizing that quality begins from the first seed that you plant in field, then making sure those seeds grow properly into grape vines, which are watered in the right way, and subsequently picked and collected in the most efficient manner, and that after picking the vines are properly pruned to ensure a maximum ideal crop for the next year, and that once picked the grapes are stored at the right facilities, at the ideal temperature, in a palatable economic climate so they can be turned into wine, which of course needs to be the right color for the vintage, and must be bottled for aging (most wine is not aged in casks), down to the very specific point that wine labels cost $1 each, and it is thus most efficient to bottle and pack the wine unlabeled, finally unpacking it years later to place them on since there is no sense spending $1/bottle until you absolutely have to. Everything in this sequence is tried and tested to ensure efficiency, because there is a lot of money that goes into this operation and even more opportunity for things to go awry. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears go into making something as fine as a premium wine, and if you want the end product to be worthwhile, you need to give it your all. Merv, the owner of the estate, is in the field every day, still in debt, working his ass off right next to the rest of his workers to ensure that his 70,000 vines are properly cared for. That is his business, his livelihood, and its success depends utterly and completely upon whether he has accounted and planned for every eventuality on the margins. If you want to start your own business, or become a seasoned professional and truly great at the skills you choose to hone and value in this life, you need to be prepared to give it your everything, to really make sacrifices in other realms of your life to become successful. After work happy hours are no longer yours, weekends are no longer yours, peaceful nights’ sleep are no longer yours…your focus and dedication is to that particular niche you chose to specialize and excel in. The other lesson I want to take from this experience is that if I say I want to work at a vineyard, I should know why and have a clear expectation of what this will entail. Expectations are everything, and whatever you want in life, you need to have a clear idea of why you want it and what consequences it is going to have for the rest of your daily, monthly, and eternal existence. There are significant tradeoffs to the choices you make in life, but it all starts with the attitude you choose to take after you have made those choices. So choose positively, and begin, today, to make that the reality of the world you live in. Well, there’s a lot to catch up on over the past two months. Let’s get down to business. Last post was the middle of May, when I had just finished my PADI Open Water Scuba Diving course. Living in Cairns meant that I had an absurd selection of adventure sports at my disposal, and I made to make the absolute most of these…however, most are fairly expensive. The upside is that while working at the hostel, I also worked at the travel desk booking people into these tours. A nice little side benefit of this is the opportunity to try out some of these tour packages so that you can better sell the product, what’s known in the biz as a famil. In addition to an exhilarating white water rafting trip down the Barron River, I went diving on the Great Barrier Reef a dozen times. I’ve compiled a photo album of the best shots here. The end of May was an exciting time for adrenaline rushes, since I also got the chance to go sky-diving for a second time, landing on the beach. You can see my Australian video here, and my Hawaiian video here. Well, towards the end of May I had been in Cairns for about 3 months, and I felt that it was getting time for me to move on. I had worked a few jobs there, explored virtually everything that the area had to offer, and didn’t want to spend so much time in one place if I could help it. However, two things concurrently conspired to keep me in the region for a bit longer. First off, Mom and Steve were considering visiting and if they were to make the trip, I thought that Cairns (and the greater Tropical North Queensland area) would afford them the best opportunity to see Australia in a week. It’s winter down under, and Cairns is one of the warmest places to be right now. I also know the area very well, and would be able to show it off better than anywhere else. The second is that I started work on a super-yacht with Margot and Vin. It sounds pretty glorious (and it was), and while the boat was for the most part docked while I did have the privilege of going out to sea with them one day. Which was the coolest thing ever. For contractual reasons, I can’t disclose the name of the boat or any photos, but I can say that it was a 160-foot boat with a helicopter pad (plus helicopter), recording studio, full dive center replete with a decompression chamber (which is RIDICULOUS)…it was quite an experience. While only a “day worker”, aka someone who comes on board to work with the crew while they do maintenance in port, we were welcomed with open arms by the crew. I cannot think of a more hospitable group of people that I would rather work with than the boat crew. They picked us up every morning, provided us with breakfast and lunch, invited us to morning and afternoon tea with them, took us to the dock party thrown for them, and taught us all about life in the boating industry. What this particular boat does is sail around the world to various dive locations, scout them out, and take their owner and guests to these locations when called on…so obviously a top-of-the-line gig, a coveted position for anyone who wants to be a ‘sailor’ in the private industry. The crew was from all over the world and got along marvelously. The thirty straight days I spent working with them made me ruminate quite extensively about the fact that oftentimes it doesn’t matter what kind of work you are called on to do if the people that you are working with, and working for are competent, congenial, and fair. It makes all the difference in the world. While initially smitten with the idea of yachting around the world, casually dropping references to the far-away places you might sail next such as Tonga, I grew to realize that in a sense you are working (and living) on a floating office building. You work in rotational shifts, such that you may have two months off, and four months on. Those four months on, you live on the boat, you work on the boat, you play on the boat. It sounds wonderful, but it’s not as if you have all of the facilities available to you…in fact it’s the opposite. You have to maintain all of the facilities and keep them in tip-top shape in case the boat is called into action at any time, but you’re not actually allowed to use them yourself. You travel all over the world, but you always have to be back at the boat at the end of the night, and rarely have the time or means to explore much further than walking (or short driving) distance from port. It sounds incredibly haughty to declare, but in a sense the crew of these ships are trapped on board. They travel for work, but their freedom to travel is not their own and is greatly at odds with the mentality of travel that I’ve come to know and love. Either way, I’m greatly thankful for the opportunity and insight afforded to me by my month working on the boat, and all that I learned from the captain and crew. Another stroke of good luck allowed me to work right up until a week or so before Mom and Steve were due to arrive in Cairns…leaving me just enough time to plot the itinerary for their trip and knock off some final bucket list items in the area, including heading to Palm Cove Jazzfest (where we saw the Montgomery Brothers perform on the 18th green of the country club- mark my words now, this band is going to be big), climb Walsh Pyramid, and sail in a regatta with the Cairns Yacht Club (we lost, but came in second, and made great friends). Before I knew it, Saturday came and it was time to head to the airport to pick up the fam. Unfortunately, they missed a connection in Sydney due to poor weather in NY, and the upshot was that their flight got in five hours late. Instead of the planned Welcome to Oz BBQ, we had to settle for the Night Market Chinese special and a walk around town. Saturday night was an early one, back to the glory of the Tropical Heritage Hotel and our phantasmagoric little one-bedroom apartment (obtained for a steal, no less). I arose Sunday morning to find my tow visitors perched on the balcony reading their respective periodicals, basking in the sunshine and ready to go exploring. We spent the afternoon casually checking out town and collecting the ingredients necessary for a good ole Aussie BBQ on the community bar-be-ques on the Esplanade, where we were able to indulge in the local culture and throw some shrimp on the Barbie. You can make fun all you want, but it’s part of the experience. Due to a few, er, organizational deficiencies on the part of yours truly we had to re-organize some of the weeks events, so Monday we headed out in our trusty little Hyundai Accent to explore the Tablelands- local farmland, waterfalls, and scenic viewpoints. We made it about half the planned distance since there was so much to stop and see on the way, including the Barron River (where I went rafting), Barron Falls, the alt-town of Kuranda, Jacques Coffee Plantation, and Lake Eacham. All in all, a very full day, but a very rewarding one. Tuesday was another day around town, where Trevor from the didgeridoo shop gave Mom and Steve more than their fair dose of Aboriginal culture, and the folks at the Courthouse Hotel served Mom her first Aussie “Big Brekky” and Strongbow Cider, (both of which, I believe, went down quite well). Another BBQ Tuesday night before we were up and out early Wednesday morning for our two-day trip to Cape Tribulation. Moseying up the coastline resulted in the following awesome photographs, and an early-enough arrival meant that we could embark on the “long trek”, aka the never-ending hike at the Jindalba Nature Reserve, where Mom showed her grit as a true woman of the outback after we completed the 2.7k circuit. A quick trip up to the Cape itself to catch the sunset before shooting back down to the Motel for an early night’s rest, since we’d be up at the crack of dawn the next morning with Steve and I climbing the indubitably daunting Mount Sorrow. After adhering to a litany of precautions advised by the Queensland Government before attempting to summit the peak, Mom dropped us off at the base at 7:30am with instructions to call the authorities if we were not back by 5pm (kidding, but seriously). No need for such drastic actions however, since these pictures were taken before 10am. Shirts have been removed not due to any vainglorious attempt at attaining as many instagram followers as possible in my first week, but due to being grossly saturated with body sweat. We were back down by noon-ish, and found Mom reading at a picnic table near the Cape, where we enjoyed a leisurely picnic lunch together. Agreeing to head back to town on the earlier side, we headed back to Cairns and arrived before the sun set. We celebrated that night by heading out to dinner at the Salt House, one of my favorite restaurants in Cairns, where we sampled the local cuisine- seafood. Mom and I split the seafood sampler and Tuna steak, and Steve got the local special, Barramundi. Also on the menu was some Aussie vino to compliment our entrees. Steve and I headed to Rattle’n’Hum for a beer, but were tucked in early since the next day we had to be up early for the capstone of the trip- the Great Barrier Reef. Over the past year, my constitution has been tested a number of times in various ways, but one way in which I’ve severely weakened is my tolerance for the cold. In my personal experience, it was absolutely freezing out on the Reef due to the high winds, but fortunately M&S are coming from a different baseline and loved every minute of the trip. Mom made it in snorkeling on a day where the tide was so low that large portions of the reef were noticeably visible from the boat (this is quite rare in my experience). This was the only picture I got of her before I joined. Steve had his first experience scuba diving, and was fortunate enough to be under for 27 minutes on his second dive-, which is absolutely unheard of for an introduction. Here he is in all his glory. All in all, this day was a resounding success, and we all enjoyed ourselves very much. Having checked out of the Tropical Heritage that morning, we drove to the local beach, Palm Cove, where we planned to spend the last two days of the visit relaxing. Our accommodation in Palm Cove dropped our jaws from the moment we stepped inside, and was a perfect place for everyone to unwind and enjoy the last of our visit before the next legs of our journeys. Reading, lounging, and musicing were the hallmarks of the last day or two before the alarm went off at 3am Sunday morning, and it was time to drop M&S off at the airport. The unpleasant deed done, I headed back to the hotel for a few last hours of shut-eye before checking out. I am so fortunate that Mom and Steve were able to make the trip out to see me. It was wonderful to be able to see them, and I think in the end we had the perfect visit; just the right amount of time split between visiting with family and having a casual vacation, and doing and seeing enough to justify the trip they made halfway around the world to see me. As for what I’m doing now? Well, after checking out of the hotel, I made my own way to the airport for an evening flight to Perth, where I arrived late, spent the night in the airport, and took the early morning bus to Margaret River, a little town about 3 hours south. I planned to meet up with Margot and Cher, who had flown out here earlier in the week, where we all planned on finding work on a vineyard (which as some of you know has been my stated intention for quite some time). The Universe conspired in our favor though, not without some serious legwork from the three of us, bestowing upon us a car and a job within twenty-four hours of arriving in town. I’m writing this post early on a crisp and cool yet sunny Thursday morning, which doubles as my first day off from Adinfern Vineyards since Merv, the grandfatherly owner of the vineyard, has to go to Perth for some sort of wine convention. After speaking with a number of people around town and in my hostel, we got absurdly lucky finding the job we did. The vast majority of the vineyards in the region find obtain their labor by going through third-party contractors, where you are oftentimes nothing but a number to them. You could be assigned to one vineyard on each day of a given week, with no real opportunity to make any real connections with the Estate, owners, or land. The three of us are the only ‘transient’ workers on Adinfern, and will be working there five days a week until the end of August. It’s a family run business, and for the most part we’ll be laboring in the vineyard itself, pruning the vines and clearing up the land to allow for optimal grape growth for next season, but we’ll also have the opportunity to bottle wine on-site when the opportunity arises, and are hoping to even volunteer at the cellar door on the weekends. That was quite a lot to catch up on, so if you’ve made it all the way down here, Bravo. I’ve also jumped on the Instagram bandwagon, where I hope to post a decent amount of pictures each week depicting a chaste portrayal of my day-to-day life her in Oz. If you want to follow me, my name is mkolle01 (real original, I know), but I’ll continue to post pictures in the albums on this site when I get the opportunity. As always, I’d love to hear from you all- please send me a message telling me how YOUR life is going and what’s new with you!! P.S. Check out this video, quite inspiration in my opinion, if you are, like me, trying to figure out life. This is a short post I originally wrote on June 3, 2013. I hope to continue writing about this sort of thing as a developmental series...comments welcome.
Inactivity. The passive passing of time. Drudging boredom. These are all side effects of those of us in the work force that find that our day-to-day desk jobs provide little to no gratification. Tasks completed at work have absolutely no correlation with what we strive to achieve in our personal lives; they are two completely distinct identities. Sometimes I daydream about having a profession where I work 10 hours a day, and come home with absolutely zero items on my to do list. Why is that? Because the things I intended to accomplish, as a human being, on this earth, have already been done during my work day. I see no need to further fulfill myself once I’ve logged a full day’s work- my contribution to society has already been made. For the rest of us stuck in a dull, monotonous routinized existence- a comfortable one, I may add, but not one which provides any sort of personal gratification- there continues to be a need to seek “accomplishment” in everyday life. For some of us (read: me) this comes in the form of endless to-do lists, books to read, movies to watch- all to give my life some semblance of productivity. Yet at the end of the day, these endeavors are solely to numb the pain of the dullness of my professional life. If circumstances had been different- if I had come to America from another country, if I had a family to support, if I was an aspiring musician or artist looking to supplement my meager income with a day job, then things might be a bit different. But to come into work every day, dragging my feet, with little or no intrinsic motivation as to what work is accomplished, on what deadline, or how well it’s completed- it’s a terrible, unfulfilling way to live. Us as humans need direction, purpose, movement, gratification- well, maybe just some of us, but I for one would like to think it’s an inherent trait in our species. The need to excel, put ourselves in a better position than we started life (whatever that may be) is one that we should all aspire to whenever our personal circumstances allow us the chance. So I want to chat a little bit about my daily life over the past few months, and what sort of challenges I’ve faced and lessons I’ve learned. As most of you know and have commented, I’ve worked only sporadically down here either on odd jobs or a smaller exchange for accommodation and food. How have I gotten away with this, you may ask? Well first off, I was fortunate enough to have a good job before I left for Australia, which allowed me to save up a decent amount to make this whole thing possible. I could not have done what I’m doing without that, and I’m ever grateful for the opportunity my work afforded me. Yet everyone knows that budgets are controlled in two ways: cash in, and cash out. Well, since I’ve been in Australia, cash flow has been controlled by a vice grip. It certainly makes it much easier that the environment I’m in surrounds me with other budget-conscious travelers, so all of us are in the same boat of saving every penny we have. I’ve always kept close watch on my money, but over here I keep a little diary where I log exactly what I spend in a day making it much easier to know where my money is going. It’s also a powerful motivator not to do something stupid with it. Anything and everything that is considered a “luxury good” is completely out of the question—play a round of golf? No thank you, I’ll save that for when I’m back working full-time. Someone trying to sell you something? A surefire way to tell that it’s something you don’t need. I like to think of it as a full-scale reallocation of my resources to maximize how long I can travel and what I can do while traveling. I left home to travel, and it’s foolish to be foolish with the money I have that’s meant to help me see the world. For example, yesterday I completed my PADI Open Water certification, which qualifies me to go scuba diving on my own (up to 18m/40ft, in reasonable conditions) anywhere in the world. This cost me $440, and was easily the most I had spent on any single thing since I’ve been to Australia. Yet I signed up for the course without hesitation, since it was actually on sale (or “on offer”, as they say down here)—they can run as high as $800-900. Scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef is something I’ve wanted to do forever, and would be crossing it off of my bucket list right now if I actually had a bucket list to speak of. It might have been an expensive course, but for me the value of the experience was incalculable, and that’s what I came here for. Experiences of incalculable value, and sometimes one has to spend a bit of money to facilitate that. I haven’t been out to dinner in ages and rarely eat a meal that I haven’t prepared. Breakfast has not been purchased since I was in Sydney, lunch out (as in, something you didn’t make yourself- not a sit-down meal) is an absolute treat when you’re unable to bring your own, and dinner is virtually always cooked in the kitchen. I would hardly call this sacrifice, but there is a certain degree of legwork that goes into preparing every single one of your meals and trying to keep them nutritious. Groceries run about $100/week, sometimes more, sometimes less, but always low enough that I feel these costs are controlled. Depending on where you travel, sampling the local cuisine is part of the experience and your budget for food would be adjusted accordingly, because after all, eating is part of the traveling experience. Yet Australian cuisine is…nothing, nothing at all, and expensive to boot, so I’m much more comfortable preparing food myself and spending my money on outdoorsy activities such as a camping trip or getting my scuba diving license. Stir fry is often on the menu since it is cheap, can be packed with vegetables, and can last up to five meals depending on just how you approach it. Little tired of the same thing? Refry it in a pan, through a fried egg on top with an avocado on the side, a little bit of cheese, and put some Frank’s Red Hot Sauce on it. You won’t be disappointed. I’ve always been quite careful with my money, but willing to spend it freely on things and experiences that mean a lot to me and that ethos has only strengthened since I’ve been traveling. I don’t really need things to be happy, on the contrary the acquisition of things are objects which drain my capital and which I eventually need to carry around, possibly over long distances, so I’ve shunned things in favor of experiences at virtually every juncture. In terms of personal entertainment, I don’t require much though thanks to some key technological items I do have a large scale of entertainment at my fingertips without having to carry much. My kindle and a sporadic internet connection mean I have hundreds of books to read at any given time. My iPod means that I have tens of thousands of songs to choose from when I want to listen to some music. Aside from these two, my most cherished items I carry with me are a hard-bound leather Moleskine diary, which probably siphons some of the more introspective, juicy thoughts that some of you believe belong on this blog, and an acoustic guitar which I bought back in January. These are my go-to items when I have free time, and I could not be happier that none of them are a television. I am finding that I enjoy hobbies that allow me to create (music, writing, photography, thoughts, travel itineraries, cooking) rather than consume (television, booze, food). I have aspirations to start learning French- there are a ton of French people here and I find myself captivated by the language. I took Spanish for 3 years, Russian for 6 years, and German for 4 months, and was never really interested by any of those, so we’ll see where this takes me. I might forget about it in a month’s time since it’s difficult to get by on anything but English in Australia... Part of my fascination with French has been listening to a lot of their music. Between Astrid (my instrument-maker friend from Port) and my next-door neighbor here in Cairns, Etienne, I’ve built up a nice little collection of French classic, hip hop, and alternative rock. I have a relatively wide taste in music, but it’s only recently that I’ve begun to reflect that that taste is almost entirely of the American and British variety. There’s a whole world of music out there in different languages, from different cultures, that we are just not exposed to at home. Of course, there’s often a language and acquisition barrier to finding out about foreign artists, but I find that there’s something captivating about listening to music in a language you don’t understand. I’ve never been a lyrics person with songs; I rarely know or listen to them. For me, music is all about emotion and how it makes you feel, and lyrics in another language seem to double this effect on me. I might not know exactly what they are saying, but I enjoy the way they are saying it and in a sense, to me, the feeling is more striking this way. Try listening to any German hip-hop, and you’ll know what I mean; that language was meant to be rapped. Living in a hostel, especially working at the reception and travel desk, means I’m constantly meeting new people from all over the world, every day. The vast majority of travellers here in Australia are from the UK (not much surprise there), but there are also a TON of Germans. I’m not sure if I’ve written about this before, but Germany recently abolished their mandatory two-year conscription law, which means there are a ton of young Germans flooding the labor and University market, which is unable to absorb them. The answer, overwhelmingly, has been for them to travel to Australia on a gap year to make themselves more marketable individuals upon their return home. Most travelers are in their late teens or early twenties, though age matters less than whether someone has a) just graduated high school, b) graduated from University and has not worked, or c) worked in a professional, big boy environment, and left to travel. Collectively we are referred to as backpackers, since we are traveling indefinitely rather than on holiday. On the whole, I socialize and get along with C’s much better than the rest. Most travelers are from Europe. Lots of French, Dutch, and Scandinavians, fewer Spaniards and Italians—these demographics are pretty predictably split along current economic states of their countries. A lot of Canadians, and a growing (but still miniscule) number of Americans. I’ve met no Africans so far, a handful of Israelis, a few South Americans, one Russian, and seen scores of Asians roaming the streets of Cairns. All of this makes for a pretty cool mixture of people staying in the same place, and while lively political debate may not be as much of the culture as your correspondent might like, there’s still loads of opportunity for cross-cultural exchange, often over a few drinks. Backpackers love having a few drinks. Australia is definitely a westernized outpost filled with Westerners looking to travel. While this has made traveling much easier, it’s also made me want to keep exploring different countries and cultures that are much different from my own upbringing…that’s why I love traveling, and that’s what I want to spend my time doing right now. One thing that backpackers share is a love of adventure and a desire to try something new before embarking on a life path that will be relatively set in stone. Sometimes it’s worth it to take a step back and reflect that I’m pretty lucky to be in the company of the kind of people that will, when taken to the appropriate spot, all go cliff-jumping without hesitation…that’s the best way I can find to classify the attitude of the travelers in Australia. While I do love socializing and meeting new people constantly, I’ve found that my personality is an odd mix between hyper-social and reclusive hermit. I don’t need that much alone time every day, but I do need it, and when I don’t get it I become quite discontent. It can become at times trying to escape all of the commotion that comes with hostel life and just get a few hours alone. A field trip across the street to the Esplanade lagoon with a guitar in tow is often in order, or just an early night packing it in with a good book. While one of my aims while traveling is to broaden my mind and learn as much as I can about the way the world works from as many people as I can, a trip like this often requires some solitary reflection time, which I find I need more than ever. But hey, that’s life right? Figuring out what it’s all about. It’s a journey we’re all on. I guess I glossed over it in the midst of this post, but my Open Water Scuba Dive course consisted of two days of classroom instruction and closed water practice (in the pool), and then two day trips out to the Great Barrier Reef, each with two instructional dives. The sandy bottom of the ocean floor surrounded by coral reef is quite possibly the coolest classroom setting I’ve ever been in, and on our last dive we were allowed to take an underwater camera with us. I’m in the middle of posting a bunch of the underwater pics, as well as some pictures and videos of the trip from the surface- so check ‘em out, and let me know what you think! So this has probably been the longest I’ve gone without posting, and there’s a lot to update you folks about. Last time we spoke, I was planning on finding a job on a farm after moving from Airlie Beach. That didn’t exactly work out…while there is a ton of work to be had Down Under, there are also an extraordinary amount of laborers—6 million backpackers in a country of 22 million people. As always, there are folks ready and willing to exploit any economic inefficiency they see, and thus we have the concept of a working hostel. A working hostel is an institution where the owner or operator has contacts with local farmers and employers, and acts as a broker for the backpackers searching for these jobs. Travelers will show up to the working hostel with the promise of steady work (or as steady as can be had, so they’re told), and asked to pay, upon arrival, $200 for the first week’s stay as well as a $200 bond. So that’s $400 right up front. Once everything is all settled, you are a member of the working roster- you must be prepared to work every morning, but the catch is that the work is come & go- you might work one place on a Monday, only to be told there is no need for you on Tuesday, and find work at another place on Wednesday. Why spend so much time talking about this? Well, Victor & Clemence spent a week at a farm in Bowen, and barely earned enough money to cover the week’s rent, despite working each morning for anywhere from one to five hours. Needless to say, yours truly was glad he didn’t join them and opted to remain at Pete’s for a bit longer. On one of our last weekends there, Pete made his way down to Sydney to visit with his daughters. Up to this point, we had just been helping him prep the house for guests, but there had been no real prospects of any bookings before I was set to leave, so you can imagine my surprise when I received a call from him on Friday telling me that we’d be receiving our first guest that Sunday, and I would be the manager of the Whitsundays Rainforest Retreat for it’s opening weekend. Whoaaaa mama. A little nerve-wracking, but everything went smoothly and it was a pretty cool experience to be in charge of the place for the weekend- because hey, that’s what I’m here for- cool experiences, right? Apart from manager-for-a-day, I had a nice little birthday celebration. I wasn’t all that stoked to turn 26 this year, but it made for a nice excuse to “make a party” as the Germans would say- here we are cutting the cake for my mustache-themed bash (PS I had a pretty Swanson-esque mustache at that mo’ment). Other notable events included a few glorious sunsets, and an evening encounter with two brown (tree) snakes in the house, both of which Victor and I had to, in the words of Roger, deal with in no uncertain terms. As a thank you for helping him out, Pete was able to get Lauren & I discounted tickets for a day cruise of the Whitsunday Islands- which took us to Whitehaven Beach, and Mackerel Bay, where we got to snorkel the Great Barrier Reef! Whitehaven Beach is absolutely stunning- the pristine sand is actually so fine that it’s what they used to make the lens for the Hubble Telescope. It’s said to be so fine you can brush your teeth with it, but this ranks along with the survival tip that the rear ends of green ants make for tasty lime flavoring if you’re bush-cooking for cool-things-that-I’ll-just-take-your-word-for,-tour-guide. Our group spent the morning relaxing on the beach, checking out the views from the scenic overlook, and lazing in the water—though never without our trusty full-body wetsuits, since after all it is stinger season and we wouldn’t want to be stung by an Irikandji and die. Seriously. After spending just the right amount of time in Airlie Beach, Lauren & I boarded a bus to Cairns, where I planned on looking for work & she was planning to spend a few days before flying to Bali to volunteer at an orphanage for the next part of her journey (which, judging from some of the pictures she’s since posted, is quickly climbing to the top of my list of places to visit). Luckily, I found part-time work at a hostel pretty quickly, so I’ve had a free place to stay for the past few weeks with some pretty cool people, including Cody & Margot- the first Americans I’ve met in what feels like decades. Cody reminds me of a North Carolinian Glussi, so you can imagine we get along pretty well. Despite having to work at a desk for my keep, the view is quite splendid- I’m staying at 93 Esplanade, right across the street from the main boardwalk and lagoon. There are tons of people to chat with which makes it a pretty awesome gig, and the atmosphere is always upbeat and friendly. While it rained the first few days I’ve been here, and there always remains the threat of a flash-storm, the weather has been sensational, if not mind bogglingly humid. Every few days something happens that makes me think ahhhh so this is what it’s like living in a tropical rainforest—mostly when you get out of the shower and simply do not dry, since the humidity ranks somewhere between 98 and a billion percent. Fortunately I got a job working as a charity fundraiser for the Fred Hollows Foundation after a week or so of searching. Yes, it is what you are thinking—I’m the guy that stands on the street and asks people to donate money to a good cause. I took it because I figured what the hey, might as well give this a go—make some money for myself, and do something good at the same time. If nothing else, it will be a learning experience in dealing with people. I’ve proven to be pretty good at it, despite my complete and total unwillingness to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. Call me what you want, but my philosophy follows the ethos of the great thinker Panni, that one must “live and let live”. I’ve learned a lot about how to deal with rejection (I’m putting this so kindly) while still being able to bounce back and have my wits about me a minute later. If I’m not 100% all of the time, then no one wins, least of all the people having their eyesight restored by way of the donations I’m soliciting. My people skills are certainly improving, and I get to talk politics and social justice with rural Australians, which is interesting. I’ll leave it at that. (Update: I wrote this post about a week ago, and have since left this job. I’ll elaborate in a bit). The other week I got a call from Hans, who was on shore leave for a night after spending four weeks at sea on a prawn fishing boat. We got lunch and then went out for a few beers later that night to catch up- from some of his stories it seems as if he was on the boat from the Perfect Storm, but this had the curious effect of piquing my interest in this sort of work. I was hoping to replace him on the boat when his contract was up, but alas I have no experience on a fishing boat, and the captain and crew were seeking someone who didn’t require any training. Oh well. It’s still on my docket of cool-stuff-to-do, though. I managed to get Hans a place working in my hostel, so he’s staying here for the remainder of his Australian adventure, until he boards a plane bound for Germany in a few weeks. So, I left the fundraising job earlier this week because I wasn’t making nearly enough money to justify the hours I was working. It was fun to chat with people all day, but sometimes you are just not in the mood for it and it can make for tiring work when you are paid solely on commission. This was the first job I ever worked that was commission-only, and it’s a real different mindset coming into work. If you don’t hustle, you get absolutely nothing out of the experience. If you aren’t trying your absolute best, then it’s not worth coming to work at all. You might as well have stayed home. It is a valuable experience for anyone considering starting their own business. Yes, in a sense, you are your own boss, and you can set your own hours and work schedule but if you fail to deliver the goods at any point along the way, the only person who loses out is you. Now I’m sure you are all wondering how Easter was celebrated, and the answer is by spending the long weekend working on refurbishing a boat. The Compass is a dive boat owned by a company that does Great Barrier Reef tours, and has been out of the water for a few months while the whole ship was gutted, cleaned, sanded, re-painted, etc. Apparently they are quite behind schedule, so the company came around seeking day laborers to do some of the grunt work and pick up the pace, a job that Cody and I gladly accepted. The guys working on the boat are all Dive Masters, which means they are scuba-diving experts and lead groups of people on diving tours of the GBR, and double as tradesmen for higher pay when necessary. Despite their seemingly rough exteriors, there’s a lot to learn from these guys about diving and how to get a boat running in tip-top shape again. Unfortunately, I was only able to work for a few days until I had to return to my fund-raising gig (only to quit the next day). C'est la vie, since Cody was offered a full-time gig as a host on the ship when it’s back in the water, and the first spot in the dive master training program when it becomes available. Sometimes, that’s just the way things go. Fortunately I was able to take Cody’s other job, and I’m now plying my trade at a tile warehouse and delivery service, which is giving me pretty decent hours and wholly acceptable pay for my efforts. I think I’m going to spend the next month or so in Cairns, saving up some money at this job and taking time to see the sights. A few of my friends and I have a camping trip planned for this weekend in the Daintree Rainforest, which should be quite awesome, and next weekend bodes a snorkeling trip out to the GBR as well as a super-exciting secret adventure sport which I won’t disclose until after the fact. Longer term (a.k.a like, 2 weeks), I’m hoping to get my scuba diving certification so I can really see what the Great Barrier Reef is all about. If this post sounds like I’ve been all over the place, perfect, because that’s exactly the experience I’m after. Australia is a wild and crazy place, more so because the current infrastructure lets you try your hand at pretty much anything as long as you can convince someone that you will add value to their operation- even if that value is simply bargaining an open mind and a willingness to work hard in exchange for a job. I’m here to have as many new experiences as I possibly can and while some of my inclinations may come across as a bit zany, I’m fully confident that these are all positive, character building experiences. Travel, especially the long-term travel I’m currently immersed in, is about trying new things without a conventional safety net. It serves to make you question, yet oftentimes solidify, your beliefs and worldviews and challenge yourself by trying your hand at something you’ve never done before. This sort of thing is different for everyone, though if you’ve made it to the end of this post without doing something else, I would wholly encourage you all to seek out your own challenging experience this weekend. It can be something insanely simple- just taking a bike ride around your neighborhood to see it in a different light, signing up for a one-time yoga class, or buying a used guitar and teaching yourself how to play. I think in this world people are too often set in their ways and unwilling to try something new because they’re afraid they won’t be good at it…I would argue that this is the exact point where you begin to really grow as a person. Pick something you’ve never done before, and just go for it. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed with the experience. PS: I’ve updated the Photo Gallery with hundreds of new pictures and videos- you can check it out here. Please, comments and suggestions are encouraged!!! And check out the two videos below, produced with GoPro footage in Airlie and the Whitsundays. Update: video link isn't working. Visit the photo gallery links for the videos: Airlie & Whitsundays, and scroll to the bottom. So I think it’s long overdue that something of a tell-all post about why I actually picked up and moved to Australia. It’s been nice to recap what I’ve been doing from day to day, but I’m going to make an attempt at recording some more serious thoughts of mine as I flit about the country. Anyone who’s had a conversation with me over the past few years knows that what I really love to do is travel: to explore a new land, with new people and a new culture, a different perspective on the world and intrinsically different worldviews from the ones I’ve developed over the course of my 25 years. I love learning about the different perspectives and motivations people across the world have, from the Western emphasis on self-expression and individual freedom contrasted with the Eastern maxims of conformity My one real “dream” in life has always been to backpack around the world. I’ve fancied the idea of the vagabond who lives out of a single bag, distilling your life down to the very essentials you need to explore new cities and countries. I have never been much of a long-term planner, so a trip of that magnitude seemed like biting off a bit more than I could chew- somewhat more palatable however, was a trip Down Under. If I had to pick three reasons why I chose this trip, I think I’d have to go with the following:
I could go deeper, but for the sake of simplicity I’ll keep it to these three for the time being. So, the obvious next question is….how is this trip helping me to grow in terms of what I set out to do? Has my sense of wanderlust been satiated? In short, yes. I’ve been planning my travels week by week here, taking me wherever the wind blows. It’s been an exhilarating experience to wake up every morning and really not know where I’ll be in a few days time, but it has also made me appreciate the comforts of home and the stability it afforded me. Have I seen things I never would have the chance to back home in the US? From the Blue Mountains to the Whitsunday Islands, Australia has given me the opportunity to experience a wide variety of scenery, which I can only hope will expand as my trip continues. Easily the most striking difference for me is the night sky- virtually unpolluted by any man-made light, the stars here are clearer than anything you can imagine, not to mention “upside down”- the constellations are the reverse of what we see in the northern hemisphere. Unfortunately Australia is cursed with the Internet infrastructure of a fourth-world country—I recently bought a small wireless device that gives me 3GB of Internet service for $50. While this means I can keep in touch via email more often, uploading pictures is still out of the question until I find somewhere with reliable free internet service, so visual confirmation of this part of my trip is still wanting. Has this experience allowed me to re-evaluate what I want in my life? Unquestionably, this has been the biggest learning experience over the past four months. Along with accounts of my travels, I am going to try to integrate various lessons I am learning and new perspectives on life into these blog posts. Hopefully it will allow me to grow as a person, and inspire some of you to do the same. Moving to Australia and leaving my life back home was easily one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made, and while it’s been a rewarding one it’s sure made me realize how much I appreciate from my life back home that I once took for granted. From personal relationships to continuous economic stability, everything that I knew has been turned on upside down, and given me a lot to think about. I’ll try as best I can to recap those thoughts and keep it relevant and interesting for you all, but your continued input is most valued. I want this trip and subsequent writings to be as much of a learning experience as possible for us all! I’ve spent the past month working at two different ‘resort’ facilities. The first few weeks of February were spent at the Palm Bay Hideaway—a seemingly idyllic paradise on Long Island where I spent 4-5 hours each morning renovating a block of suites for guest use. I once dreamed of spending weeks at a time on an island resort with a few friends, but I never thought that I would be the one to catch a case of cabin fever. When we arrived at Palm Bay, we met Victor & Clemence, a French couple who had been there for 2 weeks (who, by the way, make great working partners—the French have a somewhat…liberal sense of what exactly constitutes a billable hour). They cautioned us that any more time on the island would be, in short, MORE THAN ENOUGH. When anyone made a trip back to the mainland, it was reminiscent of the scene from The Beach, where Leo heads to Ko Phagnan for supplies and is inundated with requests for the most basic of supplies from the real world, since with no internet connection and virtually no visitors due to the rainy season, we felt pretty disconnected. While I certainly entertained myself kayaking, reading, hiking, and working, the feeling that you can’t go anywhere (even though you have no real reason to leave), does begin to creep in after a few days. I know I sound quite obnoxious to anyone reading this at home, but lesson #1 is that I don’t deal all that well feeling confined. While it certainly was a dream of mine to live on a tropical island, that has been checked off the bucket list and made me appreciate daily interaction with different people more than I ever thought I could. We all left Long Island on February 17th—Chris and Hans took a bus north in search of work (Hans is now off the coast of Innisfail working on a shrimp boat; I haven’t heard from Chris yet) and Victor, Clemence, Lauren & I headed to Pete’s house in Airlie Beach, the mainland port for the Whitsunday Islands. Pete is a businessman currently overseeing the construction of a block of housing developments overlooking the marina, and lives in the considerably-sized abode perched at the top of the development, which he is in the process of converting to a B&B. It’s been our job for the past three weeks to help him get this place into tip-top shape before the guests come (the first ones were due this weekend, but cancelled due to an impending cyclone. But don’t worry- this place is built to withstand a Category 5 storm), and I must say, things are looking up. It’s been an interesting experience to be a part of the launch of a small business, and has made me think a lot about incentivizing your workers. Without getting into too much judgmental detail, my role at Palm Bay was somewhat impersonal- I was given a set series of tasks to accomplish each morning, which I did, but there was little opportunity to feel as if I had a stake in the end product. Not that this affects the quality of my work, but it sure has an impact on how fulfilled you feel at the end of the day. I was given the opportunity to work pretty much on my own sanding, plastering, painting and finishing rooms, from which I learned a lot about DIY, but at the end of the day it was just a job in exchange for a free place to stay. Pete has given us the chance to have more of a hand in how the B&B is going to turn out- from gardening and landscaping to prioritizing tasks around the house to ensure that everything is completed before opening weekend, he’s incorporated us into the launch of his business. As a result, I feel much more of a sense of accomplishment about the work I’ve done here, and will probably take him up on his continuous insistence to return once the place is up and running to see how much progress has been made. Lesson #2? Work is far more fulfilling when you have a say in what the end goal is and how that goal is achieved. So what’s next? Well, it’s time to work for money for a bit. Help exchanges have been a great way to travel while keeping costs low, meet crazy Australians and learn a bit about their industry, lifestyle, and worldviews, but as they say- cash rules everything around me, and it is time to cream, get the money. Ideally I’d get a job on a sailing boat off the Whitsundays, but you need to take a sailing course to acquire the proper qualifications for employment, which is pretty expensive and instilled in me little confidence that I was certain to get a job after enrollment. I had a lead on a farming job on a vineyard in Coonawarra (one of Australia’s premier grape-growing regions for Cabernet Sauvignon), which paid handsomely, however I had a feeling that it might have been a scam…so the plan for now is to wait out the bad weather at Pete’s until things clear up, and in all likelihood join Victor and Clemence in the next week or so, who are currently working at a farm an hour north of here. From there, who knows where I’ll be next! P.S.- Apologies for the failed picture links in my previous post. They should be fixed now. Also, please take the two surveys below so I can position this blog to be something that's interesting for you all to read! Just a quick update this evening- I hope you all enjoyed Super Bowl Sunday, and are just as eager as I am to find out just how much money Grant won after the Seahawks crushed the Broncos. Last time we spoke I was staying at Dingo’s in Rainbow Beach preparing for our adventure on Fraser Island, which proved to be quite the experience. We were assigned a tour guide, Alex, who drove the lead 4x4. The rest of the crew followed in three tail vehicles, with all of us taking turns driving…fortunately, at least one of the Jeeps was an automatic, giving the Ugly American his first opportunity to drive on sand, which is comparable to driving on black ice for an extended period of time. Fraser Island is massive- the western face of the island abuts the Pacific, and 75-Mile Beach runs all along it. This gives you the chance to drive for extended periods on the beach (max speed limit 80 km/h, approx. 50mph) while seeing few other people or signs of civilization, though every now and then you’d spot a dingo at the side of the road. Crikey! Check here for some pics.
Fraser was a great trip, but it was a little too organized for my taste and at times felt like a class trip with particularly hands-off Australian teachers. I was expecting something remote and wild, kind of like the Channel Islands (shout out Cali crew!), picking a spot on the beach to build a tent and sleeping under the stars, but instead we slept in tents in an established campsite in a dingo-proof area. Yes, there are electric fences to keep them out. So while I did have a great time, it’s certainly given me a better idea of how I want this trip to progress in the next few months, and that entails staying far away from the vouchered travel scene and organized tours. That brings me to today. It seems like most of you are no strangers to extreme weather over the past few weeks, and I’m joining the club, albeit in a somewhat different climatic zone. I arrived in the small town of Agnes Water 6 days ago, planning to stay for 2 nights before heading north to Airlie Beach. However on the day we were supposed to leave, an announcement was made that the Greyhound Bus had cancelled all northbound service for four days due to Cyclone Dylan, which was poised to strike any day. Hm. I had been told by a few people that traveling north during the rainy season was a bad idea, but this was the first time I had plans actually disrupted because of the weather. Lucky for us, the Dylan didn’t actually strike the coast where I was staying, but we did have four straight days of torrential rain and wind, which has been a rarity on my trip thus far. Alas, sometimes one is able to find love in a hopeless place and for me a few rainy days watching films was just what the doctor ordered. Tonight I’ll be catching the overnight bus to Airlie Beach. Hans, Chris, Lauren and I will spend the morning buying food and other supplies before we hop on the 4pm ferry to Long Island—no, not that Long Island, this Long Island, and spend the next two weeks working at the Palm Bay Hideaway, cut off from the rest of the world for all intents and purposes. I can’t wait. Side note: see here for the link of a video that they played at the end of the crocodile show at the Steve Irwin Zoo, it's absolute gold: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tE1HDSipRxU |
|