Roller Coaster Analogies, Driving on the Left, and a Hint of Marsupial Pouch Goo...

So I have officially stepped away from my job for several months. Everyone was very nice, telling me I would be missed, and came by my office one by one on Friday to tell me goodbye. I have signed something pretty much guaranteeing that I will return in December, which is good, because I can't expect to walk off the plane from being in the southern hemisphere for 3 months and expect to find another job instantly. I am kind of looking at this as a summer vacation for grown ups. The only thing is, it's not like I am going to be able to do this every year, although that would be amazing. It's a once in a lifetime thing, most likely, even though I am already planning a second trip in the future to see things I will not be able to fit in the trip this time, haha.

As the 8th draws closer, I am feeling more and more pressure to get things in line. I am fighting an urge to start packing my bag, mainly because I know I will be packing and unpacking and repacking several times before I get it right, so there is really no point to start before I have everything I will need. The anticipation is kind of like this picture: there is a huge adventure ahead, but you can't quite see it, although you are approaching the beginning of it. It's always my least favorite part of roller coasters, that "klink, klink, klink" you hear, jarring you as each chain moves you closer to the top, you feel it pulling you closer, against the force of gravity, your stomach anticipating the horror of the drop that awaits at the top, even though the imagination of it is always much worse than it ends up being. It's that anticipation that creates thoughts in my mind when I find myself asking, "what am I doing? I'm going to Australia for 3 months? By myself? This is a little insane!" Of course, these thoughts don't fill my every thought, but seem to be bubbling up more recently. I am attributing to the "cold feet" syndrome that engaged couples feel right before the wedding. They love each other, and are dedicated to this step, but one cannot deny that it is not a huge step, and causes these feeling to come up, no matter how much they want to be married and love each other. I think it's a natural thing to happen. It doesn't change the fact that I want to do this so badly and am so excited about the whole thing, but I think it is healthy to be moving into such change with at least a little reflection and caution.

I am basically booked for the last two weeks of my trip in Alice Springs, Uluru, Cairns, and Sydney. Matt has bought his ticket and we have decided we will be renting a car to drive to Uluru from Alice, stay overnight in a cabin (the only economical way to stay at the Uluru "resort" area), then drive back to Alice and fly to Cairns the next day. I am so excited by the prospect of driving in Australia. That in and of itself is going to be a great adventure. The car will be on the other side of the road with the wheel on the other side of the car. Granted, we will be driving in part of the least populated land in the country, it will still be a weird experience. We have a couple more flights and rooms to book, but we have decided on dates and have that part of the trip plotted out (and my over-controlling and plan oriented spirit inside rejoices!)

I have been studying up on the Aussie lingo via my very informative book that I got on Amazon called the American survival guide to living in Australia. I realized that the Australia accent and word slang is closer to Cockney English than the regular English accent. This makes perfect sense when you think about the origin of most Australians. Since the modern Australian society started out as a penal colony for England to rid itself of an underclass, it would go to reason that Cockney was a common accent to hear in the early settlers living in Australia. Of course, the modern Australian accent has evolved and is distinctively different from Cockney, but the way they stretch words and the rhyming and shortened slang is a definite Cockney trait. Some of these slang terms seem like more work to me than just saying the actual word you mean. Remember the yank = septic tank = seppos from an earlier blog? A major stretch, in my opinion. Another one I learned recently: lie rhymes with pork pie, which is shortened to porky. So when someone tells you that you are telling a porky, you have to quickly make this rhyming connection that they are accusing you of lying. So lie = pork pie = porky? Seriously? Right now, this rhyming and shortening stuff is a little too cutesy for me. Maybe it will grow on me by the time I am leaving, but right now, just say what you mean and we will all get along.

Notice anything different about this map? I think Sal would appreciate this map too, since it has her country front and center. This is what google gives you when you type 'Australian centered world map.' I wanted a map to show my course of travel without having to draw a line of me flying off the side of one page and coming in on the other side. When you look at it this way, it doesn't look quite as far as everyone thinks it is right? It's not really on the 'other side of the world' now, just across the Pacific ocean from California, not too bad, haha.

This map is of the route I will be traveling in Australia once I land there. I will be landing in Sydney, then will go north to Brisbane, before heading down to Melbourne and then west to make a clockwise circle around the country. I wanted to create this map to let people see what would be next for me as I travel throughout Australia. I also gives me a more clear view of what is ahead.

I found this while searching google images of Australia. Heed The Simpsons' warning: do not try to ride in kangaroo pouches. It is not as fun as it might seem.

10 DAYS!!! (CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!?)

Cold, hard cash and senioritis

Today I went to the bank and requested Australian money, $100 worth in fact. I know it might be obsessive, but I will feel better if I at least have a little legal tender the second I get off the plane.
Have you seen their money? It's gorgeous. The $1 is redish-yellowish in color with Queen Elizabeth the second, the $2 is greenish-yellowish with John Macarthur and William Farrer, the $5 is a pinkish-purplish color with Queen Elizabeth the second again, the $10 is blue with Andrew Barton Paterson and Mary Gilmore, the $20 is red with Mary Reibey and John Flynn, the $50 is yellow with David Unaipon and Edith Cowan, and the $100 is green with Dame Nellie Melba and Sir John Monash. (I promise myself right now that I will at least read what each of these people mean to Australia- thank you Wikipedia). The coinage comes in 1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 50, $1, and $2. I like the $1 coin because the reverse side is covered in kangaroos. I wish we had colored money. Keep things a little more interesting.

Matt has to push back his dates he is coming to Australia, but I think this will actually work better. I now plan to see Brisbane at the beginning of my trip instead of the end. So now, when Matt arrives, he will come to Alice Springs, then after a few days there, we will rent a car (did I mention this yet- I don't need an international driver's license because mine is in English, score) to drive to Uluru (we want to do some desert driving, plus steering wheel on the other side and driving on the other side of the road = adventure), stay overnight, then fly to Cairns. After a weekish in Cairns, we will both fly to Sydney where he will depart for America and I will spend my last 3 or 4 days in the harbor city before coming back. Exciting!

So as time draws closer, I am getting more and more excited. At work, it is pretty much the topic of any interaction I have with anyone. But I don't mind, it gives my last two weeks more of a end of the school year, or even senior year quality. I'm very upbeat and distracted and thinking toward the future. I almost feel like I should be carrying around a yearbook for people to sign. I'm very emotional about this. It's becoming very real, and when I sit and think about for more than a few seconds, I find myself tearing up from sheer jubilation. I haven't been this giddy or excited about my life since freshman year of college. Despite the fact that I always say I am against change, I just love taking huge new steps in my life. I know it's just 3 months for now, but who knows what possibilities and ideas this might open up.

22 DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kupa Piti, Aussie Opals, and Grass-less Golfing Greens

Ok, I know I have written 2 days in a row already (this will be 3), but I am getting so freakin' excited about everything. The more I research, the more exhilarated I am. I was doing a little research on Coober Pedy today. The name of the town is actually derived from the Aboriginal "kupa piti," which means "white man in a hole," which I don't know if this comes from them mining or the fact that they build the buildings into the sides of rock or underground, maybe both. Coober Pedy is known as being the opal capital of the world. I've already decided I want an opal necklace with the opal in the shape of the continent of Australia. Do I know they make necklaces like this? No, but doesn't it seem like they should? I'm already picturing what I am going to be buying for myself and for other people (currently accepting postal donations!)

There is actually a golf course in this town (note the picture, at least they have sense of humor about it!), which I would imagine is like no other golf course in the world.

And this area of Australia was also famous for being the location of the Mad Max films, as well as Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (one to be adding to the Netflix list if you haven't seen it, trust me. And yes, that is Guy Pierce and the agent guy from the Matrix that always calls Neo "Mr. Anderson." Didn't you always dream of seeing him in drag?). I mean, this place is empty as far as the climate, vegetation, and sheer number of people, but at the same time, it seems this void is filled with a sense of wackiness. I am so excited it's on my list of cities.

I had sent an email a few months back to inquire about the rates and availability for October. I received a very polite email response from someone named Mike. Anyway, fast forward to today. While researching hotels in Coober Pedy, I came across the TripAdvisor website, which always reviews the top hotels for each city (and was very important in the selection of my parents' hotel for their 25th wedding anniversary) and guess which hotel was number 1? My Underground motel. And every single review was not only positive, but glowing. And people were talking about how amiable Mike was, that he offered free lifts to and from the airport and bus terminal and around town, and advice on what to do and where to eat. I was so excited to hear my instincts had been so dead-on. I cannot wait to get out to the outback, to Mike and the opal and the grass-less greens and the underground hotels. Gah, what an amazing, crazy town.


30 Days!!!

Ugly Americans... in Superb Seating!

So I've been pondering something lately that never really concerned me until just recently when I was reading a blog of a stranger that traveled down under almost exactly 2 years ago (yes, this might seem a bit sketchy, but it you post something publicly online, you can't be surprised when complete strangers start reading it. And it's not like I'm stalking him or something, so just relax.) Anyway, he mentioned that Aussies have a derogatory term for Americans- "seppos." Take a guess at where this comes from, but no googling. Go ahead, I'll wait...
No clue? So seppo is short for septic tank, which rhymes with yank, but which also implies that Americans are full of shit. Charming, no? And the "yank = tank" a bit of a stretch? I thought so too. Anyway, when I had first started dreaming about this trip in the late winter, I had emailed my dad's friend Jory, who had backpacked through Europe in the late eighties, for some tips. He had actually mentioned this "ugly American" viewpoint in his email back in February, but I noted it and thought that maybe it would be something I may have to overcome at some point in the trip, but it was nothing I thought about for long. Recently while talking to my dad about this issue, he just suggested I tell people I was Canadian to avoid the whole issue. Of course, I won't be doing that because, one, as soon as I do, I will be confronted by a real Canadian, asking where I live, why my accent has a distinct southern hint to it, and why I'm not insanely obsessed with hockey. That scenario will end like every B comedy movie where someone has been caught in a lie and tries desperately to escape the position, but is ultimately exposed for the faker they are (and more hilarity ensues). But also, and maybe it makes me an "ugly American" to say this, but, say I'm from Canada? Seriously?
In a book I just purchased after reading the introduction on Amazon, the author said to not be offended if Australians first ask if I'm from Canada. He said Australians do this to avoid offending Canadians, because apparently Canadians are more offended by being confused for Americans than Americans are for being confused as Canadians. It's just terrific that I've picked to be born at this time and come of age as the world no longer idolizes America but seems to hate our guts, but there's really nothing I can do about it. I don't know that this will even be an issue, but I guess I can only be myself (since I am not the typical tourist ignorant American) and show anyone that I meet and feels they need to put me down that I'm not who they think I am. Maybe I can change some minds about what people think they know. But, if worse comes to worse, I might pick a Canadian city, do some research, and practice that accent just in case.

On a good note, this ugly American has the seats I asked for on all flights to and from Australia! I requested window seating and got it for each stop round trip. I found this out, not because the itinerary says "window seat" but because I googled seating charts for each plane. I know that the LA to Sydney flight might be annoying because I will have to climb over 2 people to use the bathroom, but I will get to see Australia from above and I'm just glad I'm not in the middle. On the domestic flights, I have an A seat, either 21A, 45A, or 32A, depending on the flight, which means I'll be on the left side of the plane, if you're looking down from above. To and from Sydney, I will be in 55J, which looks like I will be on the right side. This picture is of the Boeing 777 that will be taking me down under and bringing me back. It's pretty massive, also note the enormous amount of room the snooty-snoots have in the "business elite" class.

In other developments, I ended up sending my boots back because I felt like a half size larger would be perfect. I was getting worried they were a little snug, and snug shoes is not something you want on a three month backpacking trip. So when I sent the boots back, they had 8.5, but by the time they received my boots to exchange, they were out of them and were not anticipating purchasing any more in the near future. So, after discussing my limited options with a sales person on the phone, I decided on another pair that were the same brand and type, but were a different color, not waterproof, and slightly higher topped. They're still cute, but I really was set on the other ones. I have had tons of gray shoes in the past and was trying to branch out. But they fit nicely and are my new addition. I also got my notebook today. It's the same one Salley has for Africa trip, but mine is royal blue. It's really cute and I can't wait until it gets here.

So yes, we've finally made it:
1 month until departure! I'm trying hard to not be overwhelmed and I keep reminding myself that, while I feel like I don't have enough time to plan and do things I need to do, I will have a full week and a half of no work before I actually leave. I still have a lot to wrap my mind around before my plane is touching down in Sydney (including that, upon further research, it is going to be much colder up until about November than I had originally thought/planned for) but I am getting more and more excited by the day!

You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out!

In general, the reaction to the news of my trip has been positive. Yes, of course, lots of jealousy, but still positive. But this entry is dedicated to the negative ones. It’s seems the people that have the biggest issue with trip, and specifically that I am taking this trip alone, are older women. When they find out about the trip or I tell them about it, most often their next question is “who are you going with?” When the answer ends up being “no one,” there is an immediate reaction on their face of disapproval, followed by either, at best, warnings of being alert at all times, and at worst, threats on my life and health and invoking of Natalie Holloway. At this point, I am having to restrain myself from openly laughing at their reaction.

Yes, I know, I am a girl.
I had no choice in the matter. It’s something that happened about 25 years ago, so it’s nothing I can do anything about now.
I am alone.
No real choice in that either. I would prefer to have traveling companions, but no one else is in my unique circumstances, and I’m not waiting around for some of my friends to become independently wealthy and maybe decided they would like to take a trip to the other side of the world with me.
I am in unfamiliar surroundings.
It’s a given, but it’s also part of the great adventure. What do you want me to do, take a dry run of Australia? How would I even do that?
Of course, everything and everyone in the area surrounding has unsavory ideas for me.
What, that last one was too extreme? Paranoid even? Exactly.

I get it. I am always alert, conscious, aware of my surroundings and the potential weirdoes around me. Every day of my life. Because, make no mistake, there are plenty of people I encounter everyday in Hillsborough, Durham, Raleigh, Chapel Hill that give me pause and make my senses become heightened just by how they are acting around me. When this happens, I am immediately plotting my next move if they approach me, brandish a weapon, somehow are able to kidnap me. I am fumbling for keys or mace and mustering my strength and adrenaline to kick some butt if need be. Wait, he kept walking, it’s a false alarm. It happens a couple of times a month. It might happen in Australia. But I’m not staying home because of old fashion notions that since I’m a female I cannot travel or do things by myself. And like I said, it only seems like older women that have issues with it. Are they just resentful they let these imaginary restrictions keep them here? Are they truly worried about me? Or are they just trying to put me back in my place? I just don’t understand the reaction an almost perfect stranger feels entitled to make to me. I could maybe understand my family, my grandmother reacting this way. But she has been so much cooler about it than random old women telling me I’ll be raped or murdered and that I cannot go. I can’t go? Who are you? You know nothing about me and have spent less than 30 minutes of your life interacting with me. I just don’t get where the nerve comes from. I know, it’s a bad, bad world we live in. I live here too. And I get it. But I cannot let that keep me home. Because then, don’t they win anyway?