Sunny Days. Well, Day.

The SUN was back today! It's amazing what a difference that makes. A city like London can hold its own in the rain. Brisbane can't. The city averages about 250 sunny days per year, the reason Queensland is Australia's Sunshine State. From restaurants, to malls, and even public transport (via ferries) Brisbane is designed for outdoor living.

The city is so much more alive when it's sunny. Today I walked along the river walk to read and write in a park about five minutes from our house. There were rock climbers, people walking on a tightrope, and kids scootering around. There were friends meeting for picnics, girls sunbathing, and photographers framing their shots. It was the perfect afternoon for sitting by the river - eighty degrees and sunny with a beautiful breeze. Believe me, I love being in Australia in any weather, but this afternoon was a perfect taste of the essence of Aussie weather.

Sunset over Australian Pines

Emerging from the River Walk

Summer Vacation

Santa has come and gone, but the rain is still here in Queensland. The rainiest December in 150 years, someone said. Despite the damp, my first tropical Christmas was a massive success.

Mark and I ended up having two Christmases. On Christmas Eve we went to a friend of family's house for an Aussie/Asian Christmas meal. That meant seafood, and lots of it - mussels, oysters, prawns (shrimp), tuna, crab, and more. Let me say, I think the Australians have it right. I'll be the first one bringing the Seafood Christmas to New England. Yum!

We spent Christmas at Mark's Dad's house. With the air-conditioning blasting, we were able to have a more traditional Christmas dinner of ham, turkey, and chicken. That's right - although I couldn't find a turkey in sight for Thanksgiving, they came out everywhere for Christmas. Christmas pudding and pavlova, an Australian meringue-type cake, rounded out a delicious meal.

To bring a touch of home to the holiday, I made Christmas cookies for both gatherings. Unfortunately fudge, peanut butter balls, and marshmallow wreaths that taste so scrumptious at home didn't fare too well down under. The fudge literally melted on the counter. The wreaths were so sticky that it was a bicep workout to pry them off the serving platter. Needless to say, I understand why the Australians have had to tweek the traditional Christmas menu.

In the spirit of good journalism, I decided to brave the crowds and jump into the Aussie tradition of Boxing Day Sales. Similar to our Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving,Boxing Day is supposed to boast the best bargains of the year. Even though it was raining, when I got to the shopping center of the city it was packed - a sea of people moving in the rain. Combine the crowds with massive, bright signs celebrating 50% off EVERYTHING, and the scene soon became overwhelming. Mark and I popped into one or two stores, but didn't see any sales that made dealing with the crowds worthwhile. After a bit, we found a cafe where we could get a cappuccino, sit back, and observe.

Believe it or not, four days later the Christmas holiday still isn't over here. Saturday and Sunday were Christmas and Boxing Day; however, because they fell on the weekend the Australians still want their public holidays (read: days off work). So Monday and Tuesday of this week have become holidays, with banks, stores, and most businesses closed. It's back to normal for Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of this week, and then the holidays begin again for the New Year.

Pavlova

A Slightly Different Christmas

Merry Christmas! That's one thing the Aussies have right. There is no one saying "Happy Christmas" here, an England-ism that threw me for a loop in London last year. Even though the Aussies usually revert to English terms, they know that the only proper wish is for a Merry Christmas. Truth be told though, you're more likely to here someone wish you a Merry Chrissie, and ask if you've got all the pressies under the tree. The Australians love their abbreviations, and even Christmas isn't spared.

Of course, the biggest difference is that there is no white Christmas in Australia. In fact, most years Christmas is stinking hot, falling right in the middle of the summer, when the temperature regularly hits 100 degrees and above. The children are on summer vacation from the beginning of December, and Australians traditionally take time off work for a few weeks beginning the week before Christmas. Of course, this means that lots of Aussie families take vacations ("holidays") in December and January, and celebrate Christmas away from home.

Because it's so hot, Christmas dinner in Australia is usually an afternoon barbecue near the pool or the beach. Grilled prawns (shrimp), cold dishes, and plenty of beer are on the menu, although some English traditions like Christmas puddings do sneak in.

Christmas here is hilarious to someone used to a cold holiday. It's as if Australians take the traditional celebrations and Christmas images, and tweek them until they fit into the steamy Christmas season. Shops still decorate their windows with scenes of snowmen and fir trees, but the children that are captivated by those decorations lick ice cream cones and scramble for a spot in the shade.

One thing that shocked me is that no one here buys real Christmas trees. I come from a family where picking the perfect Christmas is a full-day operation demanding diplomatic skills that would make Hillary Clinton proud. The fact that families whip out the same fake Christmas tree year after year was mind-boggling. Sure, I understand that fir trees aren't native to hot and dry Australia, but surely someone could have started a Christmas Tree farm! Spotting the perfect tree, loading it onto the car, and coming home to the fresh pine smell are my favorite Christmas traditions.

Luckily, even if he doesn't understand it, Mark accepts my Christmas tree obsession, and found the one place in Brisbane that sells real Christmas trees. Although it felt a bit like a drug deal (think a back room of a framing shop in a residential neighborhood), my Christmas tree is absolutely perfect.

So Merry Christmas to all my friends and family at home! I miss you all, but I've brought little touches of American Christmas to Brisbane - a real tree, some great Christmas carols, and cookies - in your honor. And don't get too jealous of me spending Christmas basking in the tropical sunshine; this year Santa has brought Queensland more rain and a cyclone warning. Maybe it will feel a bit like home...

Summer Storms

When I bought a waterproof camera for Australia, this is not what I had in mind.  From Sydney to Brisbane, the east coast has been battered by storms bringing hail, heaps of lightening, and even tornadoes through the area today.  Australians are used to summer storms, but even the natives admitted that today's weather was extreme.  

Unfortunately cameras can't catch some things, and the deluge of rain and lightening like fireworks this afternoon had to be seen first hand.  As I got ready to go grocery shopping, the sun was shining over my deck, although there were a few more clouds than there had been earlier.  When I opened the front door, which faces the opposite direction, it was like a different day - low, dark clouds, and a wall of water heading toward me.  By the time I walked to the car, the sun had been gobbled up, and the sky was lit only by lightening striking in all directions.  

I've got to hand it to the Aussies though - they can carry on through a storm!  Although the windshield wipers were working double time, and the headlights were on, traffic kept moving without any problems.  I guess Bostonians learn to drive in the snow, and Queenslanders learn to drive in the rivers that flow where their streets used to be. 

A Sunday Drive

Although it's officially the Australian summer, all we've seen for the past week is rain.   By Sunday afternoon I was going stir-crazy, so to get out of the house, I decided to have a driving lesson.  My "lessons" thus far have consisted of about ten minutes of driving the manual before Mark got too car sick to continue.  Yesterday, though, it finally clicked, and I was able to drive around the industrial park like a pro.

After driving for a while, I pulled in to a cemetery to turn around.  As soon as I pulled in, I saw these two having their Sunday dinner.  My first wild Kangaroo sighting!  They looked right at us, but then just carried on, grooming each other and grazing.  We even got to see them hop around a bit.  Australia may not have squirrels, but it's much more fun to dodge Kangaroos during driving lessons anyway.

The icing on my rainy-day cake was that later that evening I drove (on public roads, with traffic) all the way to Mark's Dad's house, keeping on the right (ie, wrong) side of the road, making wide right turns, and working the clutch like a pro!

My Belly Dances

Drumroll please....  Today - for the first time since attaching a giant purple bow to my head and tap dancing in pre-K - I performed in a dance recital.  I've been taking Belly Dance classes for a few weeks, and although I joined late in the semester, I managed to learn the routine in time to perform in the Christmas showcase (I almost said winter - I can't get me head around the fact that it's summer here).  Performing was so much fun!  By the time you're out there on stage it doesn't really matter if you lead with your left foot instead of your right - you're just surrounded by a room of people who are encouraging you.

The school has a huge spectrum of dancers - from beginner to professional, kids to grandmas, and all body shapes and sizes - but everyone looked gorgeous on stage.  It just shows you how important confidence and attitude are.  And it's pretty amazing when an activity can make every sort of woman feel beautiful and sassy.

Lately I've been trying to do more classes and activities to meet people in the city and have my own routine, especially since Mark's been working nights.  Belly Dance was great, but now it's on summer break for a month and a half.  I'm taking a great outdoor boxing class a few days a week, but I'm also trying to think of other interesting classes and activities.  I'd love any suggestions, challenges, or input!

The Ashes

This week in Australia, it's been all about Cricket.  The Ashes are on, and although you probably haven't heard of this series, the entire cricketing world has its eyes on Australia to see the English and the Aussie's have it out.

The Ashes is the name for the five cricket test matches played between England and Australia every few years.  Although I haven't quite figured out cricket (or, for that matter, heard a convincing argument why I should put in the effort), I have learned a few interesting things about the series in the run-up to the first test, which was played just blocks from my house in the Gabba, the Brisbane cricket ground:

                  1. Since cricket is a summer sport, and England and Australia have opposite

                      summers, the series is played not every year, but every 18-30 months, 

                      depending on some factor that probably makes sense to Cricket fans.  

                  2.  It's not just the English Cricket team that's in town.  So is the Barmy Army - 

                       the semi-organized fan group that follows the English Cricket team on 

                       international tours, including, most passionately, The Ashes.  I've actually 

                       seen quite a few Brits strutting around town proudly displaying Barmy 

                       Army shirts, and English flags have been popping up more frequently, 

                       including on a ferry that drove down the river covered by the Union Jack.

However, my favorite fact about the Ashes is the story of how the test got its name.  In 1882, an Australian cricket team beat the English in England for the first time.  The homeland was horrified to be beaten by the former convict colony, which had  been discovered only a century before.  So horrified, in fact, that the British Press, ever one for a theatrical story, declared English cricket dead.  In the obituary, one newspaper said that the body would be cremated, and the ashes sent to Australia.  Fully appreciating their come-from-behind win, Aussie fans presented the English team with an urn filled with ashes (of a cricket ball, a wedding veil, or various other items, depending on the version of the story you listen to).  And so, even 120 years later, smart British humor hangs on, and the series continues to be known as The Ashes.

The Story of the Day

I'd like to say that I haven't blogged in a week because I've been working non-stop, or because nothing too exciting has been going on (ok, well, I probably wouldn't like that reason), but neither is the case.  I haven't worked at all this week, so it's turned in to a bit of a mini holiday.  Mark and I have kayaked on the river, picnicked in the gardens, and really been able to enjoy the great weather and the great city.

Today we climbed the Story Bridge, which is in the picture above.  The Story Bridge is a Brisbane landmark, and it's basically in our back yard.  Bridge climbing is not so close to home.  Apparently there are only three bridges in the world open for the public to climb - the Story Bridge, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and one in New Zealand. 

The climb was great.  We started on the left side of the bridge, and climbed to that peak. Then, we went half way across the bridge before looping back.  It's a shame that Mark and I were less than photogenic this morning, because the pictures would have been stellar.  Because bridge climbing is a dangerous activity, for the climbers and for the cars speeding along below, there were heaps of safety precautions.  Everyone was zipped into a lovely blue jumpsuit (read: prison garb).  You couldn't wear bobby pins, jewelery, or anything that could possibly fall onto the traffic below (including cameras).  Luckily everyone is subjected to the same humiliating outfit - it's probably really a team building exercise rather than a safety measure - although of course there was one woman in the group who managed to make a blue onesy look glamorous.  Bitch.

The view from the top of the bridge was beautiful.  Brisbane has a very unique landscape, not like any other places I've been, especially in America.  The city is set along a winding river, which makes three 180 degree turns, splitting the city into a number of peninsulas.  The ocean is just visible in the distance if you're up high enough, and on the other horizons here are mountains - a group of small mountains that look like a wall around the edge of the city, and three peaks that jut out of an otherwise flat area near the coast.  All in all, it comes together to make a gorgeous view.  

The weather here this week has been perfect - it's in the 80's or low 90's, and although it's humid, it's bearable.  One thing that's great about Brisbane is how outdoors oriented the city is.  Bars, shops, and malls are all open-air, with tarps and tents at the ready in case it rains.  Even gyms and trainers take advantage of the weather - I've been working out with a training company that runs boxing and bootcamp classes in parks around the city.  I know the unbearable heat will come, but I'm trying psych myself up for it and not let it get the best of me.  I'm not ready to give up Brisbane outdoors.

And Picnicking

Paddling

Heating Up

The Pier directly behind our Apartment

Finally, we're getting some proper Australian weather - blue skies and heat, heat, heat!  Just as the fireplaces put to work at home, we had to fire up our air conditioner (AirCon as the Aussies say) for the first time this week.  Today I walked outside and thought "It can't possibly just keeping getting hotter for three more months!"

One Australian tradition that is especially nice in the heat is the markets.  Australians have all sorts of markets, from craft to clothing, but on Saturday and Wednesdays the food markets set up.  They're a deal, since grocery stores are very expensive here, but it's also a very fun environment.  You're buying your pineapple from the farmer who grows it just down the road, which is something you really can't beat!

Another thing that can't be beat is my hard work paying off - the stories I've been writing for Totally Wild are finally starting to go to air!  It takes a few months for the stories I write to be filmed, edited, and prepared for TV, so the stories I wrote at the beginning of September are now having their time in the spotlight.  You can see Totally Wild here: http://ten.com.au/watch-tv-episodes-online.htm.  For Monday November 15th's episode, I wrote everything the presenter says, and wrote & produced the story on Quolls.  On Wednesday's episode I wrote the presenter's lines, and  the young author story (and went to the shoot!).

For the stories I produce I write the script, choose the vision I want, and do a rough cut of the story before the editors work their magic (in the form of a 10-hour shift) to make it look great.  It was awesome seeing my work on TV - I think the whole office knew when my segments were on!

Monkey Business

 Don't let this peaceful, adorable picture fool you - these little monkeys were crazy!  Wednesday I went on the road with the Totally Wild crew, who was shooting a story I'd written on marmosets.  These photogenic primates are the smallest monkeys in the world, growing about seven inches long, and they certainly are cute.  Until you're in their cage, that is!

When we arrived and got into the marmoset enclosure, the monkeys were thrilled.  The four adults rocketed around the enclosure like ping-pong balls, paying no attention to the two-week-old infants grasping their backs.  The Marmosets leapt from the camera, to the sound-equipment, taking frequent breaks to land on our heads or bite our ears.

Once their curiosity was satisfied, they settled down a bit, and we were able to shoot the story.  The man who owns the monkeys, who has a small back-yard zoo, had ordered four male marmosets a year ago.  Lo and behold, two weeks ago he walked out to find two infants in the enclosure!  The babies were adorable - they were no bigger than my pinky, and were just old enough to hold their heads up and look charming from their parents' backs.  The adult marmosets were also cute, but for the most part they were too flighty to really interact with.

Overall it was a great day.  All I could think was that the people I was with got paid to do stories like this all the time!  Needless to say, a career as a television producer is looking pretty appealing - as long as there are no snake stories.

Horses Race, and So Does My Heart (for all the wrong reasons)

Today was the 150th Melbourne Cup, an institutional horse race and cultural phenomenon in Australia.  This picture about sums up what the day is about - fast horses, and beautiful hats.  In some states, the race day - always the second Tuesday of November, like US Election Day -  is a public holiday; where it isn't most people take the day off or do with the office for an afternoon of high fashion and betting.  To get into the mood of the day I joined in the office pool (or "sweep"), but none of my horses won.  Instead, a French horse called Americain (your guess is as good as mine) sped to victory. 

The Cup is a tradition that plays right into another Aussie passion - gambling.  Australians love to bet.  The lotto is played at least twice a week; pubs are constantly showing horse racing, dog racing, and Keno; and slot machine are everywhere.  Even small restaurants boast "Pokies," or poker machines, and the casino is proudly displayed in downtown, blocks form City Hall. 

The only bets I've been hedging since touching down in Oz have had to do with how long I can go without seeing any deadly natives.  So far so good, but today was a close call.  This morning everyone at work received an email:

             re: snake

             Just so everyone knows, there is a large brown snake out back near the smoking

              area

Followed shortly by this email, from someone with slightly more authority than the first sender:

             re: snake(s)

             A brown snake has also been spotted in the parking area.  It goes without 

             saying that  you should use use caution.  We've called the environmental 

             agency to get advice on how to proceed.      

Now, these emails do not seem very alarmist, with their lack of punctuation and casual tone, but after spending lots of time with Australians I was able to read between the lines and realize that it was time to panic.  First of all, for an Australian to acknowledge that a snake is "large," means, in simple American terms, that the snake is freeking huge.  My nerves were on edge before I even opened the email because if the snake-charmer Aussies thought these reptiles were significant enough to send an email to the entire office, something was going on.  For them to call an agency to "get advice" meant it was time to start sealing the doors and windows.

A quick Google search enlightened me as to why this was a serious situation.  Going back to the first email, I realized with a shiver that a "large brown snake" was actually a "large Brown Snake," the second most venomous snake in the world.  If I were a smoker, this would have been enough to make me quit immediately.  As it was, I considered just sleeping in the building to avoid walking outside, where massive, deadly snakes were surely waiting to sink their teeth in to American flesh.

I wish I was exaggerating for effect, but when it was time for me to leave, about six hours after the snakes were spotted, I walked directly down the middle of the road, not stepping within striking distance of the garden on either side.

"Did you see the snakes out here this morning?" I asked the security gaurd.

"It was about six foot long," he replied.

Needless to say, please don't expect a blog post on the day I actually do see a snake.  I will be in hospital recovering from a bad case of shock.  Until then, you will find me searching the ground before each step and sticking to pavement, praying for a modern-day Saint Patrick to come drive the snakes from Australia.

(Note: Since I'm busy trying to forget they exist, there will be no pictures of Brown Snakes attached to this post.)

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween!  Unfortunately, for the second year in a row I'm in a country where this holiday never really took hold.  Asking around, a few people remembered trick-or-treating when they were younger, but overall, not many people celebrate Haloween.  I spent the morning running errands, and although the cashiers at the supermarket had witch's hats on, no one at the pub I visited in the afternoon was dressed up.  Not so much as a pumpkin pin.

However, you can't say that the Australians don't take full advantage of holiday celebrations.  After all, the mall is already decorated for Christmas!

A Personal Touch

Although Australia is only slightly smaller than the continental US, it's population is less than one-tenth of that of America.  Like the US, most of that population is concentrated on the East Coast, which leaves vast areas of Australia uninhabited.  Even driving an hour out of the city feels removed from urban life, and leaves you wondering what it would be like to drive through the outback.  Driving in itself would be quite the feat, since huge amounts of the outback have no four-wheel-drive trails, let alone paved roads.  The vastness and diversity of this country is daunting - all there is to see, and the inaccessibility of a lot of those sights.

One nice touch about living in a smaller community is the attention given to each person.  Every day Australians are recognized regularly for their contributions to the country - much more so than they would be in the US.  While it's understandable that the American media can't give attention to the thousands of newsworthy people, it's also refreshing to see the Australian media do just that. Last night there was a national news piece on an Australian teenager who had become the first Female Australian Gymnast to win gold in the World Championships.  Certainly nothing to sneeze at, although I doubt a similar feat would have made the US evening news, or that the newsreader would have regarded her with the twinge of national pride that the Australian newsreader had last night.

One thing I've found very touching is the way the media deals with military deaths.  Although only twenty Australian servicemen have died in Afghanistan, nine of those deaths have have occurred this year, and three in the two months that I've been here.  Every single one of those deaths is treated as a national tragedy.  The men haven't been reduced to a moment of silence, or a name flashed across the TV screen.  The media has gone above and beyond to put together touching and thorough tributes to Australia's lost soldiers.  While it's not realistic to do the same for the hundreds of US servicemen and women killed, it's lovely to see these poignant memorials done right.

To the Coast

The last few weeks have been busy getting settled, so by this weekend I was dying to get out of the city.  Saturday blessed me with the rare combination of sun, heat, and a day off, perfect for taking advantage of the beach.

You've got to drive either north (to the Sunshine Coast), or south (to the Gold Coast & Surfers Paradise) to get to nice beaches around Brisbane.  This weekend there was a V8 Supercars race on the Gold Coast.  You may think the traffic is bad during a Loudon event, this race took place through the streets of the city!  Needless to say, we avoided traffic gridlocks in Surfer's Paradise by heading up north toward the Sunshine Coast, which certainly delivered on it's name.

We rented kayaks and paddled across a short passage to Bribie Island, a massive sand-dune island separated from mainland Australia by a long and narrow bay.  The water was absolutely gorgeous - as the tide rushed out, channels formed in the bay and sandbar islands popped up, giving the pelicans and other seabirds an afternoon resting place.

I was dying to see a dugong or other marine life, but the best I got was a few little minows and two baby pufferfish.  The man we rented kayaks from said that stingrays were common at higher tides, but he'd been in that spot for 15 years and never seen a dugong.  Guess who has a new goal for this trip?  Mission Dugong is full steam ahead.

In reality though, I should probably be thanking my lucky stars that there wasn't too much marine life out and about, since a certain boyfriend thought it would be just hilarious to continuously flip my kayak.  The great news is that the waterproof camera has been checked and tried, and is ready for the next adventure.

Saints, Sun, and Silly Sayings

This was a very holy weekend in Australia.  The country was thrilled as the Pope recognized Mary MacKillop, an Australian nun and teacher, as the first Australian Saint.  Mary is credited with miraculously curing cancer patients who prayed to her after her death.  This may be the thought of a heathen, but if you're praying to a nun that isn't yet a Saint, who hasn't quite made that cut, you're pretty damn brave, or truly faithful.  But for the two patients it worked wonderfully, and the former convict colony now has their very own homegrown saint.

The second godly event down under this weekend was the return of the sun, and it's finally beginning to look like Australia again.  Unfortunately, it won't be the end of the rain, because this, my friends, is a La Niña year.  Most of you have probably heard of El Niño, the weather pattern that brings warmer temperatures and changed precipitation patterns to the US, and alters the weather patterns across the globe.  El Niño is caused by the warming of the central Pacific Ocean; La Niña is caused by the cooling.  Unfortunately La Niña brings increased cloudiness, stronger winds, and more rain to Australia, and increased snowfall and cool temperatures to North America, according to the Australian Bureau of Meteorology.

One thing I'm certainly not warming to is the Australian phrase, "good on ya."  This phrase is somewhere along the like of "attagirl."  No matter who say "attagirl" (dictionary spelling: that a girl), and no matter how nice they may be, it always sounds a bit condescending.  Same thing with "good on ya."  And today I had good on me not once, but three times.

#1, 2: Chatting with the Security Guard:

            Kelly: "I'm gonna have to stick around long enough for the weather to become
                         proper Queensland sun."

            Response: "Aw, good on ya, good on ya." (yep, that was a  twofer)

#3: Slightly later, getting coffee:

           Kelly: "See you later!"

           Response: "Ah, good on ya!"

What does that even mean?  Sticking around to bask in the sun, or taking my cappuccino back to my desk aren't really good deeds... and I don't think they're getting me any goodness points with the Big Guy.  If the good is on anyone, it should be on Mary MacKillop.  Cute Aussie sayings like "How ya goin'" I can do, but something about "ahh, good on ya, love" just sounds like it should be coming out of the mouth of a toothless bogan (translation: hillbilly).

Rain Rain Go Away

In a blog about Australia, you're probably not expecting to see two rainy headline photos in a row.  Neither am I.  In fact, I'm starting to wonder if Qantas maybe deposited me on the wrong continent, because even London wasn't this rainy.  Turns out last month was the rainiest September in over ten years, with four times the average amount of rain, and October shows no sign of being different.  This weekend it was steady drizzle and gale force winds.  

The difference between rain in Australia and rain in London is that Brisbane is designed to be an outdoor city.  Restaurants almost all open-air, and even the malls have outdoor walks.  When it rains everything feels enclosed - foggy panels come down over open windows and the entire city heads to the very few indoor places.  

Today we spent in the mall with all the other Brisbanites looking to escape the weather, but yesterday even the rain couldn't stop me.  For the first time in Australia I woke up on a Saturday close enough to the city to just set out and explore.  Despite the drizzle, Mark and I took the ferry to the other side of the city and wandered through, picking up a few things for the new apartment.  When we'd decided that we'd had enough of the rain we were within a ten minute walk from our apartment.  It's so nice to be in the city, close enough to go out and explore for a bit without having to make a destination of it.

For anyone who's interested in being oriented, the picture above is pretty useful.  On the left of the Brisbane River is the City Proper, with the financial district, city hall, and all the other big business. On the right side is Kangaroo Point, which is full of apartments buildings to house all the people that live in the city (the second building from the right is my building). 

 

Home Sweet Home

After only one week of house hunting, Mark and I are now the proud residents of a great apartment.  Saturday we had appointments at 10, 11, 12:30, 1 and 2.  Thank goodness, the first apartment we saw was great.  Tiny, yes, but with a balcony, a pool, and air conditioning.  We're right on the river, just near a series of parks and paths just like The Esplanade in Boston.  There is a ferry a block away that takes us across the river into the city proper, and which I can take to work.  You can't tell from this picture, but on a sunny day the view is gorgeous.  Best of all,  I look forward to letting everyone know that my first apartment was in a neighborhood called Kangaroo Point.

With an apartment in my name and a 9-5 (at least for the time being), I'm beginning to feel like a real adult... pretty scary.

Overboard

Nothing like a little adrenaline to beat the stress of house hunting!  Sunday afternoon I found myself attached to a very basic piece of rope, hanging off this cliff 20 meters in the air. 

When Mark suggested we go absailing I scoffed a little.  Rock climbing would at least be challenging, but what's the thrill in dropping down a cliff? 

Now I know better.  The thrill is getting to the very edge of a cliff, hanging on with just the tips of your toes.  You stand there, sweating, trying to convince yourself to take the first step off the cliff while every fiber of your body is telling you to get the hell to the other side of the barrier now.  It doesn't matter that all your body weight is already on the rope, and you'd be just as dead if it snapped now.  It doesn't matter that you've just seen people go down the cliffs safely, or that the rope is approved to hold three tons.  On a primitive level your body physically responds to being in danger, and there's nothing that your 21st-century logic can do to convince it otherwise. 

Until you step.

I was sweating, shaking, and holding back tears on the edge of that cliff, all while knowing I was perfectly safe.  It took three tries of getting hooked in and getting to the edge of the cliff before I finally took that last step.  

When I did, the ride down was fun, but anticlimatic after the drama at the top.  The most amazing part  seeing how strong our instincts are, and how little that has to do with any logic.  Although, one could  argue that hurling yourself down a cliff isn't exactly a logical thing to do...

Oh What A Weekend

This weekend was the Australian equivalent of the Super Bowl - the Grand Final of Australian Rules Football.  The whole country was glued to the TV when the game started early Saturday afternoon. It was odd to sit down to watch a championship game during the middle of a sunny Saturday, since the Super Bowl usually involves tucking in on a cold February night, dreading getting up for school or work the next morning.  But then again I was completely out of my element - AFL is neither football nor rugby, but a baffling scramble to run, kick and even bounce the ball down an oval field.  If you're interested, here's a clip:  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X_hqosNvv5E&feature=related

The game turned out to be the most unusual sporting result I'd ever heard of.  At the end of 80 minutes, the game was tied, which is normal enough when the two best teams face off.  However, there was no overtime.  There was no coin flip, or shootout.  Instead, everyone went home and the entire game will be replayed this Saturday.  All the hype, all the media, all the fans that flew to Melbourne for the game, and no champion.  The kicker is that last year, the Grand Final was very close to a draw, and the league discussed changing the rules, but never did.  Now, there are a lot of unhappy fans and footie players waiting to play the Grander Final during the first week of what was supposed to be their off season.

The footie debackal was a good companion for my weekend - the sort of ridiculous situation you just have to laugh at.  Mark and I are looking for an apartment, and facing all the issues I'm sure ever other person looking for an apartment has - keeping under budget, looking at what's out there and revising your budget to include livable housing conditions, and slugging through a lot of imperfect apartments before [hopefully] finding the right one.  

One thing the apartment must have is air conditioning, with a strong preferences for a pool (you see why this is getting difficult).  Sunday and Monday have been a quick crash course in Queensland humidity, and it's barely even spring yet.  Both days were between 70 and 80, which for New Englanders is perfect temperature.  Not here.  Both days were oppressive, and I learned that even 75 and breezy can be uncomfortable if it's humid enough.  Once I find the perfect apartment, I will be moving from the AC to the pool to the AC (or air con as the Aussies say) on days where it is 100 degrees and 95% humidity.

One Month Checkup

It's amazing how even in a country so similar to your own, it takes a few weeks to orient yourself.  Today I got a glimpse of the progress I've made since I got to Australia exactly one month ago.  At work I walked into the cafe and ordered a cappuccino in a mug, which, contrary to my beliefs a month ago, is not the same as a cup.  If it's large, it's a mug.  And after three weeks of trying to get a regular old cup of coffee, I've accepted that it will be cappuccinos for me for the next year.

After work I headed to the mall for "late" (read: 9:30) shopping night, a weekly Thursday event.  On normal shopping nights the mall closes at 5:30, leaving one to wonder how people with actual jobs get a chance to spend their money.  Mysteries aside, it turns out that the malls here aren't quite as intimidating as I thought the other week.  Turns out there are some reasonable prices if you hunt a bit, and there is a method to the madness of Australia sizing (for the record, a 10 in America is a 14 here, and they think we're the crazy ones for starting sizing at zero).

As I navigated onto the bus and pulled out the exact change without having to check the amount written on each coin, I smiled to myself thinking that I've done a pretty good job of getting a hold on a little piece of Australia this first month.  And as I walked home passing beneath a flying fox and looking with only a bit of anxiety at a spider as big as my hand (which, I might add, I could name), I was sure Australia has already had an effect on me.

How in the Hell.... ?

Now, I know some of you have bad eyesight. But I've squinted, crinkled my nose, and turned my head sideways, and I still don't understand how many early settlers to Australia mistook this animal for a mermaid.  Ariel?  I think not.

What you're looking at is a dugong, one of the few animals swimming through Australian waters that cannot maim or kill you.  Looking very similar to a manatee (even though it's nearest relative is the elephant), the dugong sent early explorers for quite a loop.  Apparently lady dugongs can get quite busty after giving birth, and the explorers grew convinced that mermaids were just another of the strange creatures on this continent.  I probably would have jumped to the conclusion of small whale, or rotund dolphin, but the little mermaid must have mean something entirely different 1770 when Captain Cook sailed in.

These are a few of the interesting Australian facts I've been learning writing for Totally Wild.  I love working for the show, but unfortunately it means I don't have too much time to explore during the week.  Combined with this weekend being cold and rainy (there's been something like 10 times the normal about of rain this September), it's been a slow blog week.

As I typed that, however, a Kookaburra laughed in the back yard... a pretty quick reminder that even on cold and rainy days I'm still thrilled to be in Australia.

Dog Days at the Beach

As Americans, we love our dogs, but the Aussies may have us beat.  Today Mark and I decided to take the dog to the beach, since we'd abandoned him for the rainforest yesterday.  When we got there there were dogs everywhere (granted, is was one of a few fur-friendly beaches)!  It was hilarious to see that every beach blanket  covered in sandy paw prints.  And let me tell you, if you find the beach a bit dull, there's nothing like the entertainment of seeing a show poodle tossed into the waves, or watching a full grown rottweiler mow over a chihuahua because he was only focused on his frisbee.  It was pure doggy heaven.

The ride to the beach at peak time on a Sunday was also a bit of heaven, thanks to the genius Aussie practice of free-flow tolling.  Think Fast Pass, but on a larger scale.  Cameras take picture of your car as you drive beneath an overpass.  If you have a pass, it is deducted automatically, and if you don't you make a call or go online within three days to pay the toll.  No waiting in line, and no digging through car cushions for a bit of lose change.  Leave it to the Australians to find a way to get to the beach faster.

A Walk in the Woods

Yesterday Mark and I packed up the car and headed into the bush.  Granted, everything outside the city in Australia can be considered the bush, so this in itself wasn't what was exciting.  The exciting part was our destination - the rainforest.

When I was a kid I thought going to the rain forest was like going to another world.  Looking at books about the Amazon was akin to looking at books about the moon - "Wow, how amazing it would be to go there.  But it's so completely utterly out of reach."  I assumed that the rainforest, like the moon, was somewhere that was near impossible to access.

So, when I was told - long before arriving in Brisbane - that the rainforest was a short two hour drive from where I'd be staying, I was skeptical.  The drive yesterday did nothing to convince me.  We quickly got out of Brisbane to the New Hampshire-like towns that surround it - somewhat remote, but not completely out of touch.  The scenery was beautiful - dramatic, arid mountains that reminded me of pictures of the Western US.  However, there are no rainforests in the Western US, and as we started to climb the final mountain and each hairpin curve brought another herd of cattle, I had accepted that whatever I would be seeing at the end of the drive, it would not be the rain forest.

Luckily, I was wrong.  At the top of the mountain, a switch flipped.  Between one side of the street and the other - a distance of a few yards at most - the sparse trees met a wall of green, and the car went from mountain-top sunlight into a dark tunnel or branches and vines.

I'd reached the moon.  We were in Lamington National Park, a World Heritage Sight that encompasses miles of sub-tropical rainforest in Queensland.  As soon as we left the parking lot we walked through a bird feeding area, where a flock of parrots were awaiting their lunch (one apparently mistook my head for lunch, which led me to duck and protect the vitals while Mark snapped pictures mercilessly).  We were able to do a treetop walk in the canopy, and climb one tree even higher to look over the forest and the surrounding mountains.  I even found a new favorite plant (probably the only favorite plant I've ever had, actually) - the strangler fig.  It begins it's life as bird poo deposited in the top of a giant rainforest free.  There it collects water and leaves, which it turns into a compost pile for nutrients, all while it sends its roots hundreds of feet down to the ground.  It's roots grow and harden until the host tree dies and decomposes, leaving the beautiful braided fig tree in it's place.

In the afternoon we went zip lining, and though the ride itself was a disappointment, it took us on a private tour of part of the park with two rangers to ourselves.  Rangers must need 20/20 vision, because we saw more wildlife with them than the rest of the day - including an echidna (a spiney ant eater) and a massive black snake that I'd prefer not to know the name of.  The highlight, however, came when dingos began teaching their pups how to howl in the hills around us.

We ended the day with a hike to a lookout, and a terrifying drive back down the mountain, albiet with the backdrop of a gorgeous sunset.  I won't complain though - I'm sure the ride back down to earth is a bit terrifying too. 

 

 

Dinner Options

Last night, I had kangaroo for dinner.  I'd like to say that it was because I love to try new things, or because it's the environmentally-friendly option.  After all, kangaroos are a lot friendlier to the Australian environment than sheep or cattle, since they're designed to live in a place where temperatures can reach well over 100 degrees and it just might decide that it doesn't want to rain for a few months. 

But, truth is, I just wanted to say I'd done it.  I've never eaten crocodile or caribou.  The most adventurous I'd been before this was an ostrich burger, with plenty of ketchup.  And even the Aussies don't eat much kangaroo. After a shocked look at my dinner options, one said to me, "Ew, don't eat kangaroos." Why? Dangerous diseases or tainted processing plants?? Nope.   "Because they're so cute."

Sadly, it wasn't exciting, and really, it wasn't even that good.  I cheated a bit and bought a marinated pack that just had to be thrown on the grill.  The meat looked just like a regular steak, but it was gamey and tough, with a bit of a distinctive taste, even under the garlic lemon marinade.  While I'd be willing to try kangaroo again, I think I can safely say that it won't be replacing Mom's fillets in my diet any time soon.  Of course, Mom's top-notch fillets could probably make any meat seem a bit tough.

Meet me at Macca's Sarvo?

... or, if you'd like a translation, me me at McDonald's this afternoon.  The Aussies abbreviate everything.  Australian becomes Aussie, and the continent becomes Oz.  Don't bother asking for an umbrella if it's raining when you can get by with "brolly", and why say "this afternoon" when "sarvo" will do the trick?  Tomorrow afternoon? Tomorrow arvo.  You'd think from their language that the Aussie's are the most time-crunched people on earth.  And it's not just in everyday conversation... Radio hosts talk about what's coming up savo, and a banner for the local McDonald's proudly refers to  Macca's.

If you want your Aussie abrevs to sound extra legit, make sure they end in "ie".  Grab your sunnies* if you're going out with the Surfies* on the Goldie*.  Don't bother with toast... we can grab some brekkie* on the way. 

And like the Eskimos have many words for snow, the Aussies have many words for the side dish that Americans commonly refer to as French Fries.  Want them cut in thick chunks? Wedges.  Somewhat thick? Chips.  And those skinny little things you get at McDonalds?  Fries.  Just don't confuse the chips you get with your burger with the [potato] chips you buy in the store.

Need to go to Walmart? Big W.  Burger King? Hungry Jacks - turns out by the time Burger King International decided to infiltrate the Australian market a Ma and Pa burger joint had the rights to their name.  No worries though - you can still get a Whopper.

What you can't get is black beans, Crystal Lite, or tampons with applicators.  Ask for any of these and you'll get a confused look, a polite smile, and a "Dunno mate... might have better luck at Woolie's down the road."

Glossary:
sunnies: sunglasses
surfies: surfers
Goldie: The Gold Coast
brekkie: breakfast.

Career Moves

I know this is a blog about a trip to Australia, not a blog about my career, but this week that topic has  dominated.  I finished my work experience (ie, internship) at Channel Ten today,  again writing for Totally Wild.  And the stars aligned.  The show's staff has recently undergone some restructuring and the producer was happy with the scripts I'd written (and to boot, he LOVES Boston, rightly enough).   Add it all together and here you have Australia's newest freelance TV script writer!   It would be a tad inappropriate to jump up and down and hug the boss when he asked me to come in for four paid days next week, and luckily I have good self-control, because  that's exactly what I felt like doing.  Being paid to write is literally a dream come true.

Before I go out and celebrate, here the link to the news story I produced earlier in the week.  Definitely a very neat thing, but I think script-writing has momentarily stolen my affection.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGS_LsN9qa8

Hitting Hard

This week I furthered my take-over of world media and made my first attempt at TV Journalism.  Monday I started "work experience," as the Aussies call it, at Channel Ten.  I went out with a reporter and cameraman to do a story on a 100-year-old tree that was being cut down - not exactly hard-hitting news, but it ended up being a cute community-based story.  The reporter had me do my own point-to-camera shot, where you speak directly to the audience, so when we got back to the studio I was able to put my own voice-over on the piece and produce my first television news story.   I also got to sit in on the filming of the news, and learned to use the teleprompter  and other software used to produce the news.

Today I worked with the producers of Totally Wild (http://ten.com.au/totally-wild.htm), a popular Australian kid's show, and got to write two segments that will be aired next week.  The producer already has me coming in for an extra day, so I'm hoping things will continue to go well, since so far I like TV a lot more than I thought I would.

All in all, not a very exciting week as far as Australian Adventures, but potentially exciting as far as career advancement.

Cultural Adjustments

The Ute, With Protection

My first coherent Australian weekend has come and gone, and since I managed to stay up past 10:30 both nights, I'll count it as a success.  Slowly, I'm adjusting to life down under.  Yesterday I sat on the beautiful Gold Coast, shivering in my bikini, trying to convince myself that any New Englander should be able to conquer the brisk Australian winter.  The water was warm, the sand was soft, and the shark nets appeared to have been in working order, but since the sun was already setting at 4 p.m., swimming wasn't in the cards.

Today I took a major step in Australian adjustment, and began learning how to drive a manual car.  Truck.  Ute.  Lucky for me, Mark's old ute - which has the character of Dad's old Manly Man Van, - was pretty easy to learn on, and changing gears wasn't quite as complicated as I thought.  It's very hilly around here though (it reminds me of pictures I've seen of San Francisco), so I won't be venturing out on the roads for a while yet.  Stalling out on the wrong side of the road would send me in to a bit of a panic. 

Another Australian phenomenon that I'm getting used to creepy crawlies.  They're everywhere.  In the past few days, I'm come into contact with a giant spider in my bedroom, a baby gecko in the bathroom, a massive cockroach in the kitchen (and that's no indication of the cleanliness of the house), and an opossum that came and knocked on the slider door.  Of course there is still some screaming involved when I spot the creature, but I've progressed, and no longer run frantically out of the room.

Tomorrow I am starting a week's worth of work at Channel Ten News.  Tomorrow and Tuesday I'll be researching stories and learning the teleprompters and other equipment, and later in the week I'll be writing for Totally Wild, one of their children's shows.  The job isn't paid and isn't permanent, but I plan on walking in and knocking their socks off, so hopefully something great will come of it.  If nothing else, I'll have a contact and a reference in Australia.  I'll have to tune in to my inner Aussie for the writing though, since colorful words like "wizbangery" are acceptable in this place that is similar, yet so different, to home.