Old Writings...

(disclosure: I'm not any good as a writer...my early apologies)

My body is covered in salt. I don't know what it is to love anymore, or what it is to be loved. I only know the coarse feeling of line against my calloused hands and the wet rain against my cheek. I know the passing of time only by the bells, the sun and the glittering stars. For 6 days rain has clouded the latter two. It has dampened both myself and the ship--the ship leaks and my spirit drowns in icy freshwater. The galley stove warms my toes and fingers in the day, but the nights leave me bitterly cold with only the Maine fog to encircle me as I try to drift to sleep. No one is there to talk to but the pictures of people that seem no more than a faded memory. Maine and the North Atlantic are a world away from them. My blood has been replaced with saltwater. And my last memory was fear that the anchor was dragged--the chain merely rubbed against the hauser, clanking angrily. Hell's half acre, eh? Some place to seek safe haven on a ship. I'll drift off after the scare into a restless sleep full of dreams that almost seem like omens of things to come--some to me and then others to those miles away. My fears and worries haunt me as the sea rocks me to sleep. I barely feel the churning of the ocean during the day as she tosses the ship. I merely think of my heartbeat and burning palms as I raise sail after sail. This is my first three-masted schooner. But the weather is grim and the air cold--I find no desire to sail anymore. I only desire a hot cup of tea and a warm bed to sleep in. Even my hair smells of salt. My fingers are covered with cuts and abrasions from galley knives and lobster claws. My back aches and my sunburn--very short-lived--fades away. I decided against a shower today. Yesterday wind and rain ravaged my body as I showered. The hot water was not enough to stop the Maine weather from taking hold of me. I thought the sea would love me as she always does, but I can only see her with a cold, unforgiving eye. I have no solace in her. I have no human for solace. I merely have the salt in my veins to remind me I'm alive and its bitter taste on my tongue to remind me I'm a sailor.



The scary thing is right now I wish I was still there. Something about staring at a bright full moon at 4am, pacing the deck of a sleeping ship and a still harbor. Even with all the misery of Maine, I'd trade this for it. I was sailing in the North Atlantic. I was doing something I loved no matter how lonely I felt. Now I'm lonely and doing something I'm not sure is right. I miss the taste of salt. I'm not the same without it.

Stress

Well, now that I'm past ranting and hopefully back to rational. (Sorry! I did NOT break up with Shannon. That would be probably the worst decision in the history of my bad decisions. I'm extremely lucky to love and be loved by a man like him. And I digress, so I will stop myself there).

I'm just stressed. S-T-R-E-S-S-E-D. Stressed. There's just more weighing on me than I can handle at the moment. In situations when one more thing is added to the pile, I tend to...who knows. Not think. Overreact. My mother always say I have a flair for the dramatics. And it's even harder when I am not in control anymore. Right now, I feel like everything is out of my control. Which is likely NOT the case, but I feel it just the same.

I worry about school and finishing school and paying for school. I'm stressed with the heightened competition (I am not a competitive person, I am content with merely hard work). I struggle with feeling invisible most days. I struggle with finding another part-time job. I worry that I'll never see Shannon again--it hasn't even been two months, I cannot comprehend waiting a year to see him again. I shouldn't even be worrying that far into the future, but I can't help it. I want to be there.

As much as people tell me to enjoy my time here (which do not get me wrong, I do, it's good to be with family), I can't help feeling a little sad all the time. I just can't pretend things are the same as they were last time I lived at home. It's funny, the one person that would want me here the most, is the only person that understands that it's just going to take more time for me. And that's ok. Ah, mothers. I need her support right now.

Well, I guess this is pretty much the major update for now. It's true that in 31 minutes it will November 1st and NaNoWriMo starts (national novel writting month). And I will be on the marathon to write 50,000 words, do my homework, work, sleep and not go crazy. To be honest, I look forward to noveling. It is the escape I need right now.

Plus, there's nothing better than focusing your efforts on something constructive. I haven't written in a while. This will be good.

Blackberry Pie, Jobs, House Sitting, HP Robinson, Demachy and the FBI

So, life has taken hold and sleep has started to take a back seat. The demands of life are certainly dragging me in other directions and as usual my bank account lives in the negative (the joy of being home). I went to the farmer's market a few weeks ago and picked up some blackberries for $1 a pack and I made a pie.

(picture of my masterpiece to come)

I haven't made one since I dated my first boyfriend. I made it and he broke up with me. Those events, of course, were not related, but it turned me off blackberry pie for a while. It's such a shame, because it really is good pie and I really love to bake.

I got a job working at the admissions desk of George Eastman House. It's not many hours, but it's a start. I applied for a full time job, but didn't get it. So my quest for a second job must continue. If I could just bring my working hours up to 40 or more a week, I could start making enough to pay bills and maybe save a little. Otherwise, it'll be YEARS before I can ever see Shannon again. Stupid money. Stupid bills. Stupid...well I find a lot of things are stupid.

It's not a hard job and I get to meet people from all over the world and talk photography, George Eastman and travel. All the things I love. Plus, I work with a very friendly crew and I love it. Nothing is better than good coworkers. And I get to see amazing photography from where I sit and occasionally on slow days the cafe bakes cookies and gives them to the staff (score!). It's nice to see another side of the museum and talk politics and get away from the "big shots" and talk to "normal" people. It gives me good inside.

I'm house sitting at Jenny's this weekend. At first, I was lonely, but it's turned out to be a lot better than I thought. I have pets to keep me company, heaps of food and no parent to ask me to do a million things--most times. The only crappy part is that it is a further drive from work. But it's been nice to have time to myself and it's also been nice to take the dogs for walks when I get home from work. I could get used to this doing things on my own. I've kept the house in top shape (did some laundry, cleaned the kitty litter boxes, did the dishes and even made dinner two nights in a row) and I've caught up on watching some movies. I have a kitty on my lap as I type.

Yes, there's always the danger of me becoming a cat lady. I'm just not sure I could tolerate the smell.

I did condition reporting on Friday morning for the TruthBeauty exhibit GEH is putting together and sending to Vancouver. It's a Pictorialist exhibition and YES, I've been priviledged to touch work I have only dreamed about. I am a particular fan of HP Robinson and we got to see some of his famous (and quite large) composite prints. I also got to do my very own condion report for a Demachy print, Stieglitz photogravure and several others. I can't possibly remember them all, but I was trying my hardest not to drool. And it was hard to pay attention to just yours when there were so many to look at! Somedays, I second guess my path in life, but I at least am excited to see some of the world's greatest photographs in a tiny little basement room without any glass between it and myself. It's an intimate as it sounds.

So, I was at work today and a man came in and pulled out a badge. Turns out he was an FBI agent doing an investigation and needed to know if a certain person was around. Random. I have to admit, I just stared at his badge in confusion and then sent him off to the security desk. That was probably the highlight of my day and I've been telling everyone.

Well, I guess that's all for now. I can't help but feel something is missing. I know I am in school and working and trying to do a million things at once, but I still feel as though there is one thing I am not doing. My life is a bit stagnant at the moment. And did I mention stressful? At least the weather here is unseasonably hot and humid (global warming?) and I am thankful for that. But I just wish everything would move along. I'm done with school. I'm done with Rochester. I want my own, adult life now.

That's all.

Installations, Acquisitions and too much Strongbow

Studying at George Eastman House is going well. I finally made it through my first week of classes and now it's on to my first weekend of homework. If I could get a job there when I graduate, you better believe I'll take it and never leave. That's pretty much the only incentive I have to stay in Rochester. Otherwise, it's go where the jobs are.

I helped with the installation of the Lucha Libre exhibition that is opening next week. Mostly I installed hardware on the frames, but I got to use power tools. We all know that power tools are fun. Reckless fun. But of course, I used them responsibly.

I'm also working on helping to write up the acquisitions report for the October meeting. It involves mostly research on photographers and making write ups which explain why we acquired the work, who they are...that stuff. I'd love to give more into the inner workings of a museum, but most is confidential. So, I'm limited to little bits here and there that make little to no sense to anyone.

I like working with TMS, it's an easy interface. And the search queries require some imagination, of which I have a high supply. Yeah... I'm the geek that finds cataloguing and registration exciting. What a gripping life I do lead.

Actually, today I drove with Tess to Toronto. Where I proceed to have too much Strongbow. Now I have a tummy ache. But I blame it more on the amount of Tim Hortons consumed than Strongbow.

I didn't realize how much I missed Toronto. It was fun to be back for a bit despite the rain. But even a few months away I know it's not my place anymore. My friends aren't there and I'm technically homeless when I go. Rochester is my home now and I should try harder at settling in. My room is a disaster. More like a sea of plastic bags of trash, dirty clothing and little random belongings on every table top.

I really should settle in. It's been a while since I've stayed put more than 9 months. I'm a little tired of moving everywhere. It seems as though every time I finally move in, I have to pack up and leave. Since about 17 it's been like that. 16 if you want to count the fact that for 3 months out of the year I lived out of a duffel bag and slept on a bunk that smelled like mildew--those times I miss.

So, hopefully I'll get some stability as I catch a few hours of sleep before I get back to job hunting.

One more thing about my plane ride

On my flight back from LA to Toronto (Toronto being the better city of course), I flew over the Hollywood sign and the Grand Canyon. It was so HUGE, even from almost 30,000 feet. Some things are so incredible from the sky. I am not sure how I will do in helicopters, but when I go back the Great Ocean Road, I'm definitely doing it. I can imagine the coastline would be incredible from the sky.

It's the only way to take it all in.

Last Days, Plane Rides and Jet Lag

I left Adelaide over a week ago now. I haven't been in the US for a week yet. It seems strange to think that all of this started an ended in a great flurry of events--somewhere in there was a long middle. Life transitions too quickly.

I am sitting in the Portsmouth Building (used by students for classes and the computer lab) on the George Eastman Property. This is my second long day of classes. One more to go. I attend Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. It hardly seems real.

Not even two weeks ago I was spending my last day at the Library, rushing upstairs and downstairs in order to finish everything by 5pm and still staying until 6:30. There were lots of chats, afternoon coffee, a long lunch followed by a view of the Waterhouse exhibit. Mostly, there were several goodbyes and some tears once I finally stepped outside, a badge no longer around my neck. It felt real then.

It's hard to be gone now, good to be home with family and back into school, but still very hard. I'm not sleeping well yet and I wasn't eating much for the first few days. It's an adjustment and it won't be over in one week.

I keep going over my last day in Sydney. It was hard to think at the time I'd be so far away in just a day. In some ways, it made it easier to enjoy the time I had left with Shannon. We sat in a pub at Manly Beach, consuming our first big meal of the day of wedges and pizza while I savoured my last Coopers. We sat looking out a window at the beach and everyone passing. We chatted and stared out at the ocean; time stood a little still. We relaxed on the ferry ride back, watching as Sydney came into view.

I'm lucky to have come halfway around the world, not once, but twice to see the view. Many people never do.

In between packing, there were many tears. It's hard to talk about that without aching a little inside. Leaving at Sydney airport was nearly impossible, but the fact that I couldn't afford to pay for another ticket home was enough of an incentive to go.

The flight was a blur of movies, food and restless moments. I slept on the floor of LAX until they boarded my flight. I did not sleep much on my American flight back to Toronto. But, I remember very little of my car ride home. It was good to climb into bed. It was empty, but much better than the last 20+ hours in a plane seat.

And now, it's back to class to finish up the day before I can go home and lay down in bed, hopefully to get a quick nap. There is still much to say, but I have a very tired voice with little interest to say it.

Home is...

That's the thing...where is home? I've lived so many places in five years, I feel part wanderlust, part displaced. I was thinking about it on the way home, as I watched the pink glow slowly fade to purple behind the Adelaide city buildings. I wondered where home was for me--if it is the first place I ever lived, then how have I lived displaced in life for so long? Even in Rochester my family has packed up and lived in six different homes--this does not include the places my father has lived. Does that mean that even in Rochester home is a place I no longer live?

Sometimes I miss home--or I feel that strong, nostalgic sensation that grips my heart strings and pulls just slightly at them. But it's never the same place. Sometimes I long for home in Washington DC. I remember the lights from the Capitol building as I head to my favourite Irish pub, or I remember the long walk from the Arts Center to the metro station. I even long for the cramped, sweaty rush hours rides on the metro cars, so I can run up the escalator steps to feel the cool rush of city air greet me at the top. Or the view of the city at night from the top of a building, where I climbed with my friends to escape the crowded loft below. Then DC feels like home to me.

But sometimes I miss the Corwith Cramer, a home where the scene was always changing. I remember the feel of her lines beneath my hands and I can hear the luffing of her sails. I can also smell the salt that enveloped us. I long to feel the wind from the bowsprit as I watch the sun set below an empty horizon. I miss the smell of pitch on my skin as I grasp rigging. I even miss my tiny, hot, dark bunk and its strange odour. Sometimes I feel like I would do anything to have it back.

Sometimes I miss Massachusetts. The runs along the beach where the cold winter wind would nearly knock me sideways. I miss the empty roads on Cape Cod, where I used to walk three miles to town (Woods Hole) just to have a coffee. I long to sit in Pie and the Sky and watch the ferry go out to Martha's Vineyard and see the gray winter ocean stretch out for miles. I miss the smell of old books in the Marine Biological Laboratories as I walked the stacks at midnight, waiting for a ghost to appear at any moment. I miss sunsets from the knob--the quiet alone time before heading back to campus to finish celestial navigation problem sets.

Often my nostalgia rests on Toronto, a place where being a foreigner never stopped me from feeling at home. I miss the long walks while the weather was still good. I even miss the 3am walk from Tess's to Shannon's down Bloor Street where we would stop for a few minutes at the U of T playing field to see the CN tower blinking in the distance. I remember late breakfasts at Futures and the first afternoon we could sit on the patio and soak in the city sounds. I miss the rush down the cold, snowy, icy streets with a book in hand to make it to the nearest coffee shop. Moments later, the two of us would be settled in with cups of coffee and I'd be pouring over a Jane Austen novel. Ben dragging us up the fire escape to have a better view of the city. Going after class for a chicken shawarma at La Zeez, especially after a boring lecture. I even miss the cold Saturday mornings, where I wake up and realize I can snuggle under the covers and go back to sleep.

Of course I miss Rochester--I grew up there. It's the beginning; the most important part of any story. Not always the most exciting, but certainly the most influential. I fell in love with photography because of Mr. Eastman and his house. I learned to love sailing and the water. I miss summer days with the hot deck burning my feet and the creaking of the fore boom in a light wind. I miss nights sitting at Schooners, sipping a cool drink and feeling the sunburn prickle underneath my light sweater. I miss white Christmases where I would stand outside staring at Christmas lights through the stillness of the night--so still that you felt you had to hold your breath. I miss the magic of the first crocus in Mom's garden--a promise of spring and the end of another school year. I miss walking the old railroad tracks just to see where they would end and getting lost in the process. I miss watching the tadpoles from Grandma and Grandpa's farm. It is a place I do not hesitate to call home.

But, as the months have flown by I find myself looking to Adelaide as home. I find myself comfortable and content in my workstation. I like my coworkers and often join them for morning tea (milk, two sugars). I look forward to lunches on the grass with Shannon, where we run to Woolies and then sit with our vegetables in the hot noon sun. I long for dinners at a restaurant on Rundle, where we can sit on the sidewalk and enjoy the mild weather. I love breakfast in North Adelaide at the Store. I will miss running around the Port, pointing in wonder at all the buildings I have seen in the photographs at work. I will miss walking to Cold Rock (same as Cold Stone) and then standing there unable to make a decision. I will miss late night walks with Shannon as we try to lose ourselves among the beautiful homes. I will miss Tim Tams, Lamingtons, Farmers Union iced coffee, wedges, tea time, cherry ripes, nutrigrain and blue lemon baguettes. I will miss my morning walk and my evening walk (probably the morning one a little less). I will miss the gum tree in the parklands were I watch rainbow lorikeets and galahs every morning while on my way to work.

Once I got over the fear and awkwardness of the unknown, I found myself at home--in all of these places. I look to each one as home and I carry each memory close to me. In a life where change is the only constant, I at least know that I have one more place to call home. And sometimes, when I have a spare moment, I like to let the nostalgia wash over me, so I can feel at home again.

The trouble with education is...

...that I have to pay $120,000 back for it. It really makes you ask yourself "is my degree worth it?" Anything short of a Harvard degree is not. Yet, there's the reality I'm faced with. And with interest rates at a MINIMUM of 7.5% (some are 8.5%) I'll be paying a total of $390,000 back within 30 years. That's over a quarter of a million dollars for an education. And those payments are going to be around $2,000 a month when I graduate. When the average graduate in my field makes maybe $2,400 - $3,000 you see where the problem lies.

At least I am not alone. All of American college graduates are getting screwed. Read the old USA Today article. It made me cry. But the reality is my debt will be unmanageable.

It's making me wonder if all my life choices were wrong. It terrifies me to accept that the rest of my life will be spent paying off these loans and of course not contributing to retirement. What retirement? I won't own a home, I've come to accept that. I'll sell my car as soon I as I can so someone else can take over loan payments. Once I graduate, I'll have to cut back traveling for several years. If I ever get married it'll be a City Hall wedding ($10,000 could really help with loan payments) and I know that the rest of my life will be punctuated by loan debt.

When I was 18 years old, I didn't think about this. Someone should have warned me. I shouldn't have gone to school. I shouldn't have come to Australia. I shouldn't have gone to graduate school.

The point is I have. Now I realize I have to face the consequences and work to pay the $120,000 back by the time I am 55. Maybe then I can save for 20 years for a possibility of retirement.

I can't help thinking the government should have warned us. Someone should have warned us.

Australian Cuisine

Someone at the library asked me the other day if there were any foods I miss from the States. I thought about it for a while and this was the list I came up with:

- Sweet Potato fries and the cajun mayo from Hemingways
- A La Zeez's chicken schwarma
- a frozen yogurt from yogun fruz

Ironically, all of these things come from specific places in Toronto. I have been thinking a little harder for an AMERICAN food that I miss and I came up with Root Beer: for root beer floats, called spiders here.

But, Australian food, now there's a thing or two that I've become attached to. If you've known me in the past 5 years, you know that I am obsessed with Tim Tams and Cherry Ripes. I still am. I think that the US needs to get on the ball and start importing them so I can satisfy my fix.

I've also become obsessed with wedges with sour cream and sweet chili sauce. Wedges, are bigger than chips and season to perfection. Dipped in sour cream and sweet chili sauce, it is the perfect meal...whenever. After a few beers, for lunch, to satisfy PMS. Best food ever.

Meat pies. Aussie meat pies are so good. I can't explain to you how good they are. Just watch our for the steak and kidney. I thought it meant kidney beans, but it means kidney as in the organ. I will just stick the original Aussie meat pies. You can't go wrong with them.

Lamingtons. Such a good dessert. It's a sponge cake covered in chocolate and coconut. So good. It's scary how good it is.

Nutri-Grain. Possibly the best cereal on earth. And actually healthy for you. No breakfast is complete without it.

I'm going to feel empty without these things. I will have to look for other substitutes when I get back. Or else just plan to relocate until I have my fill of these things.

How to Speak Like an Aussie: Part I

A few weeks ago Jenny expressed her worry that I would come back and be speaking "Aussie speak." In light of this travesty, I thought I would include a translation guide--in case anyone else was worried they wouldn't be able to comprehend me when I return.

Most people have heard about putting "chooks on the barbie," meaning "chickens on the barbecue". If you haven't, now you have. Almost everyone that has spoken to me in the past 8 months has heard that "heaps" has replaced "a lot." But here's a list of some more that I might throw out in conversation.

Bottle-O: replaces the term liquor store, but that same thing. Although many Bottle-Os have a drive-thru. That's something the USA certainly doesn't boast...and we have drive-thru everything else.

Rock up: Instead of saying "show up." For example, "They might rock up later" or "she rocked up at the bar later." For a long time I thought it was "ruck up" and thought it was a term that came from rugby...

Dunny: The outdoor toilet and heaps of them exist. I used one all weekend in KI. I had a great view of the water as I did my business.

Biscuit: It is used for crackers and cookies. Sometimes shortened to "bickies." Don't make the mistake of saying cookies again....

Bogan: Our version of the term "hick." These kind of people are from the back water. You know the kind I speak of.

Tea: Not just what you drink, but also replaces the term "supper" or "dinner." I am often confused with this one.

Dero: A derelict or bum. You can also call "wiggers" deros or pretty much applies to any loser. Generally they are broken or run-down in some way. As Shannon says, like a derelict building.

Yiros: Gyros. Why they write it differently...I don't know.

Mackers: What they call McDonalds for short. Much like our Mickie D's or Mac Do's.

Chips: This applies to fries. But there are also large chips called wedges. Potato chips are either called chips or crisps...depending. Chips are way better than fries and wedges are HEAVEN.

Barrack: What we would say "to root" when we root for our favourite team. Here "root" means "sex" so things get a little messy if you use the work. Stick to barrack. I barrack for Port. Thanks to Shannon.

Chuffed: HAPPY

Stuffed: used for tired. I'm pretty stuffed right now actually.

Servo: The place where you go to get PETROL, not "gas." Much like our "gas stations," you can get all sorts of other goodies at the servo, like gourmet coffee.

Salvo: Salvation Army. Sounds similar to Servo so sometimes I get a momentarily confused.

Chemist: You don't go to the pharmacy or drug store. You just DON'T.

Capsicum: Green pepper, red pepper. We often call them bell peppers. Yeah, those.

Sultanas: Sultana Bran? We'd call it raisin bran, but not here. It's strictly all about sultanas, though they are the same thing. The name doesn't change the taste in my opinion.

Chuck a spaz: Throw a "shitfit" or just throw any kind of fit actually.

So much for English-Speaking being the same....

9-10: Clare and Barossa Wine Valleys

Before heading back to Adelaide, Shannon's parent took the two of us on a wine tasting trip through the Clare and Barossa wine valleys. Most people have heard of the Barossa. South Australia makes famous wines and many of them are at your local liquor store, so go support South Australia now and buy a bottle or four. I enjoy SA shiraz very much. I'm learning to like it almost as much as chianti classico.


On our first day we stopped at Sevenhill winery in the Clare Valley. The winery was started by some Jesuit priests in 1851. They make good wine. And there's a church on the site. It was too busy for wine tasting, so we spent our time walking around.

Inside the church, there were some people practicing Gregorian chants. So amazing. And you know churches have good acoustics, so it's bound to send chills down your spine.

Ah, the Barossa, amidst some rain clouds. But who doesn't love to see acres of grape vines and lush green grass? The view was just as amazing as all the wines we tried. And we ate some great cheese as well.

The last winery we went to, Grant Burge. It had amazing gardens.


There are heaps of ruins throughout the countryside. So many beautiful abandoned old homesteads. This wasn't the most beautiful, but I liked it because it was nestled among the grape vines.

I really love wine tasting. Free wine and I improve my palette. Not to mention, I just have the opportunity to learn what I like and what I don't. And did I mention free wine? As my first wine tasting experience, it was certainly a wonderful time. And through incredible country. This certainly beats the Napa valley in my opinion. I am a fan of the rich tasting reds that come from South Australia.

6-9 June: Whyalla

After our first night in Adelaide, Shannon and I returned our little rental car and headed out on a bus for Whyalla. Whyalla is about 4 or so hours away from Adelaide and much more arid. It's where Shannon grew up.


On our bus ride, we saw part of the Flinders Ranges. Some of the oldest mountains in the world. They werew beautiful, I would love to go back and see them.


Whyalla from a look out point. I enjoyed my few relaxing days there despite my cold. I really like Shannon's family. We went out to dinner the first night and then Shannon and I spent most of our days watching movies. We're such bums.


Shannon's dog, Wulfie. He has another dog, Cody as well. They're really funny, especially since Wulfie picks on Cody because he has to hog all the attention. But, I like them both. I don't play favourites. After all, I don't even play favourites with my cats. Actually, Mr. Gladstone passed away while I was in Whyalla--that was a bit of a day ruiner. Poor thing. But I don't want to talk about it here.


The steelworks around sunset. Everything around there was red, from the dirt to the road. Most of these photos are compliments of a Nikon D200 that I was able to borrow from Mr. Mason. Amazing camera. So nice of him to let me borrow it. Now I have something to save my pennies for.....when I get all my debt paid. By then of course it will be a Nikon D2000 or something like that.


Shannon's parent's house. It's not where Shannon grew up, but they moved not all that long ago. It has a pool, but it was too cold to swim. Winter. Everyone back in North America, you can stop gloating now, winter will be back in a few months. Granted, that will be my 3rd winter in a row and I might not make it.

The view from his house. Just past those trees you can see the ocean, but it didn't turn out so well in the photograph. Well, it makes for a nice view, you'll have to take my word for it.


Look, something very Aussie: a kangaroo. I've since many more since then (and wallabies too), but at that point I hadn't sen a single one so I was pretty chuffed. Still am. They were a bit scrappy looking, but this one looks pretty good from the photo.


Shannon and I walked Wulfie and Cody to the foreshore one afternoon. It was a crazy windy day, but those waves are tiny. You can see the mangroves in the background and out to Mt. Laura. There was heaps of seaweed on the beach, so I opted to look, not touch.

Looking back, the trip seemed longer when I was there, now it seems to have flown by. After welcoming Shannon into my home and life, it was nice to have him reciprocate. It's special meeting family and seeing where a person grew up. You feel closer to them somehow, as though you received a glimpse into their past. For a split second you can pretend you are a part of it.

And then life goes on. And you go wine tasting.

5 June: The Great Ocean Road

Our last day on the Great Ocean Road.


We started our morning at the Cape Nelson Lighthouse. We were the only two there, but it's a pretty sweet lighthouse. It was nice to bypass all the tourist stuff. The museum was closed for renovations but the lighthouse grounds were still open to the public. So we wandered around and headed back on the road.


Our next stop was Estuary Beach where the water was slightly warm and we ran around barefoot, climbing sand dunes and collecting seashells, while staring out at the crazy pelicans that we couldn't figure out how to get to.

The sand dunes were unreal and led to a beautiful ocean beach as well. I love that all over Australia there are just beautiful spots that haven't been over-commercialized like many have in the US. Or at least it seems easier to find them and for almost an hour be the only ones on a massive beach. Not to mention you can leave your shoes behind and they are still there when you get back.


We saw a lot of rainbows on our trip. This one is on the hill in Mt. Gambier. It doesn't go over, but go IN to Blue Lake, which is actually and old crater from a dormant volcano. Pretty cool. The rainbow is much cooler, which appeared as we were jumping out of the car. Since I have been in Adelaide, I have seen two on my way to work. Before that, at least four or five. Australia must be lucky.


This is why they call it Blue Lake. This isn't the bluest it gets. That's in October or November for a few days. But it was incredible. After our stint in Mt. Gambier and getting rained on, we headed for Adelaide. It was strange to finally reach the city we'd been journeying too, but I wasn't sure I was ready to leave the Great Ocean Road behind.

4 June: Great Ocean Road

It was mostly cloudy and raining at sunrise, but we made the most of it. It was still another breathtaking experience.


Then we slept at a petrol station until it opened and then got petrol, slept some more and went inside to have coffee and some meat pies to warm ourselves up. The sun came out so we went to the Otway treetop walk. You walk in the rainforest among the trees, it's high up. There are only three like it in the world, all in Australia--this is the highest. It was great, but a little scary.


We decided to head back, since the Otway Fly was actually backtracking. We set out for the 12 Apostles again. It was raining again after a brief reprieve. But I took heaps of photographs (this one...doesn't do my OCD justice). Then we drove on.

We stopped at the Loch Ard gorge, named for the wreck of the ship the Loch Ard, which killed all but two of the about 84 or so on board there.

It looks a lot better from the beach than it would from the water. There is a reason it is called the 'Shipwreck Coast.' It's a dangerous coastline, where hundreds of ships met their end. Many of them I read about or scan photos of for work.


There was a graveyard for the victims of the wreck as well (at least for those who had bodies recovered) and one for everyone. It was really sad and eerie, yet peaceful among the wind and tall grass. It was strange how quiet and empty it felt out there on the coast. So much of it is a national park that it seems virtually untouched at times.


The entrance to Thunder Cave that leads to the blowhole. So loud and it rumbled as we walked down close to it. In the rain and wind, the water was so rough, it make the landscape even more wild and un-tameable. And slightly slippery and terrifying. Absolutely perfect.

The blowhole, from up above. More examples of limestone erosion. It's over a 100 metres to the cave entrance and the ocean, but if you fell in, you would die.

The Bay of Islands. You can find these formations almost anywhere along the coast, but you can only scream "stop the car!" so many times. And we had to get to Portland before dark to get a motel room somewhere inexpensive.


But, sometimes cattle crossing the road cause delays. Oh well. We got to Portland, got a room, got really bad fish fry and went to bed early. One more day and then it's on to Adelaide!

3 June: The Great Ocean Road

I will tell you now, I don't think much compares to the beautiful, rugged, limestone landscape of the Great Ocean Road. Not to mention it's just fun to drive. I knew I got up early for a reason, I was excited to begin the adventure in our little Hyundai Getz.

She's small and black, but as you can see, she was cute and home for three days. While I did drive on the left side of the road, Shannon did most of the driving. I did the navigating--I can officially say most people would get lost if it weren't for my navigation skills.

Bells Beach, the first stop just before the Great Ocean Road officially begins. We had to stop to watch the surf and the crazy surfers off that point trying to catch a wave. Even on a cold day, it was beautiful.


A typical view from out the window. You can see the road winding around the mountain. That's only ONE of the many shots I took while Shannon drove. The coastline was amazing and continued to appear from behind all the turns and hills. I was constantly in awe of the beauty.


One moment beaches and suddenly, it looks like we're in England with the green rolling hills. It constantly oscillated between the two scenes. It rained a lot on and off too, but that didn't dampen our sense of adventure...


Along the GOR is Otway National Park known for waterfalls and rainforests. Sadly, we didn't see waterfalls, but we saw heaps of rainforests. This is along the Maits Rest Walk and it was certainly rainy and beautiful. We were among some extremely old beech trees, which was incredible.


The reason they call it the Limestone coast, the constant erosion going on makes it beautiful. Thank god for limestone, eh? And these would be the 12 Apostles at sunset. We just made them in time. The first of three. It beautiful to walk along the path, listening to the sound of the waves and suddenly......there they appear, as if out of thin air below you. And you suddenly witness the passage of time and the feeling of eternity all at once. One day will be gone, but more will appear as wind and the ocean work their magic.

Wow. That's all I really had to say.


The visitor centre after dark. It was cold by the time we got to the car and then we drove to a nearby beach town called Port Campbell. It was tiny with one main street. But, we found on cafe still open and had some pizza, wine and heaps of water. I was so thirsty and it was so wonderfully warm in there. We decided to sleep in the car, but had to dodge down a creepy side street to sleep because the cops were doing laps around the main road, and we felt we'd be in trouble for sure.

Even worse, I had to pee from all the water and wine, so we had to keep driving the beach house. Thankfully, they left the bathrooms unlocked by the foreshore. We made several trips that night.
We gave up sleep about 5:30am and decided to drive back for sunrise to the 12 Apostles. First we got lost, then we got there....and stared at the Southern Cross until the sun came up.

2 June: Melbourne

This brings us to my last full day in Melbourne and I had a laundry list of things to see before 5pm (after that you lose the light and there's no sense in taking photographs). So, we started that day at the market getting breakfast and buying Shannon new sneakers. Then we headed out to the place I'd been dying to see. The old Melbourne Gaol--I suppose I should clarify that 'gaol' is pronounced 'jail' but I can't tell you why they just don't spell it j-a-i-l and be done with it.


That's the real death mask of Ned Kelly. It was the reason I went there. He died there and of course he's a legend in Victoria. If you don't know who Ned Kelly is, you ought to read up on him. If you're Irish, you'll really find reasons to love him. And if you're not it's just a good old story of an outlaw becoming a hero, even in death.

Okay, so I have a slightly unhealthy obsession and took several photos of his mask. I'll bore you with only one.


The gallows where Ned Kelly was hung and where they continued to hang people until I believe 1975, give or take a year. Pretty eerie. The place was cold, clammy and felt like death. But...that's where Ned died...so in my own special way, I had to make the pilgrimage to it.


Next stop was Captain Cook's cottage. It was actually built in England, by his father and Cook never actually lived in it--they built it after he joined the Navy. But it's cool just the same. First of all, it was dismantled by England, shipped to Australia and then reassembled according to plans. They numbered each stone. How crazy is that? So technically, the British just dumped their historical treasures on Australia, but I rather enjoy it.


The cottage is located in Fitzroy gardens and I really liked it there. We continued on our walk because we saw a sign for a model tudor village and we thought going inside more period homes would be great. But...this is what we found instead....


ACTUAL model homes, about a foot high. While it was funny, we should have taken the sign literally....

After it got dark, we decided to enjoy the many city malls in Melbourne. This cone and building is in the centre of one. We waited there before going to see Pirates 3. Where, in the movie, we were ASSIGNED SEATS. Yeah, like going to a play, apparently they follow similar rules for the movies. How strange is that? Well, after that it was time to call it a night. Our next leg was about to begin...

1 June: Melbourne (My Birthday)

Ah, the most important day of the year...my birthday! The big 23 and I'm in Melbourne sharing it with my boyfriend. Well, I miss everyone at home, but how many times do you get to say your birthday was in Australia? Unless you live there of course. Well, we didn't sleep in long in our hostel, because I get excited on my birthday. First, Shannon took me to the Queen Victoria Market, and it's the best place in the world! It's like a farmers market, deli, craft fair, cheap shopping centre, bakery and the best way to blow a day.


This is the entrance to the markets. It seems to go on forever with heaps of stalls. I got UGGs for my birthday from Shannon. Cheap UGGs, but the real ones. They look GREAT! Anyways, I went back every day, and wished I bought more. I should have gone souvenir shopping, but sorry, I haven't. I'm not even sure how I feel about that kitschy stuff anymore....

DUCKLINGS! Yes, they sold wildlife...including pigeons and budgies, which are the cutest little birds ever, but sooo noisy. I really think that market was the best part of Melbourne and our hostel was only blocks from it. After we did our morning shopping, we went to a park and feasted on my birthday lunch. We ate hummus, bread, turkey, cheese, mandarins and of course wine...all in the middle of the day in a lush green park. It was such a good meal.


We finished the meal off with a trip to the Melbourne Aquarium. It wasn't as exciting as I thought, but it was my birthday, so I enjoyed it. I bought my only present so far, a magnet for Grandma--one of the most important people in my life, so she deserved the first present.


So, the big excitment of the night was our walk to the MCG, the Melbourne Cricket Grounds. It's not cricket season, but it is Footy Season, AFL. The Australian rules football. A different sport indeed, I can't describe it to you, you just have to see it for yourself. But it was great and those were the teams that played, Collingwood won. Hometown win.


Look at the boys in action. With short shorts. The yellow ball is the footy ball. I don't remember what happened, but it was an exciting game.

As you can see, I fully support footie now and am enjoying my birthday heaps despite how cold it was at the MCG. I had just bought that hat at the QV market earlier that day and it really came in handy for that game. The markets are good for everything. And footy makes Aussie's drink, eat meat pies and scream A LOT.

We finished off the night with some gyros at an all night place called Stalagmite. It was heaps busy, but we ate and then headed out because it was after 11pm and we were buggered. What can I say? Jet lag!

Thus concludes my birthday....

31 May: Melbourne

Melbourne: 8am. After a long bus ride through moonlight bush and a cold run to a bathroom that was outdoors and out of heating or hot water for my hands. There was nothing better to come to than a raining, busy, cold city. And a hotel without a room ready. To be honest, it rained most of the day and so when our room was ready I spent most of it sleeping in a king-sized bed. These pictures are from other days, but show the evening walk I took with Shannon.


Melbourne is known for its tram system. This is one of the old trams traveling around the city centre. I did not ride one, but I thought that there should be a picture of one.

The Yarra River and some colourful buoys in it. Behind them is the yellow building known as Flinders Station. There's a lot of great walking along the Yarra, especially with all the shops on the south bank.


A wide shot of the Yarra river and a great reflection. When Melbourne isn't raining, it really isn't that bad. So, I admit due to the inclement weather on the 31st, we got off on the wrong foot.


Southgate is a really big shopping centre on the south bank of the Yarra. There's a lot of great restaurants there as well. Shannon and I went to La Camera (an Italian joint) to celebrate my birthday early. We enjoyed some wine and chicken risotto and a view of the river. Then a walk to walk off the risotto and gelato dessert.

Almost every major city seems to be getting a ferris wheel. Melbourne is right along with them. I didn't get to ride it, but I did take lovely photos of it. Mostly because I was on the wrong side of the river.


Sunset over the CBD of Melbourne. Some of my best photos came out of Melbourne. After supper we went back and I managed to fall asleep quickly. I guess at this point jet lag caught up with me rather quickly. I also wanted to be ready to enjoy my 23rd birthday to its fullest.