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...