I'm coming home

I’m home now and definitely jet lagged. It’s been really strange coming home, it feels different than I expected it would. It has almost seemed as if it is too comfortable here, as if I never left. It is the weirdest feeling that I have ever felt, it’s as if the last eight months were all a dream and never happened,

I have already spent hours looking through my photos and reminiscing, yet it seems as if all those memories belong to someone else. It has only been just over 12 hours since I actually got back to Ontario, and that was after 40 hours of traveling, so maybe I just have to give myself some time to adjust.

The last leg of my journey wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, although I only finally slept on the plane from Vancouver to Toronto. Vancouver International definitely deserves the title as one of the most sleepable airports in the world. It was perfect from a travelers point of view. Food spots that stayed open 24 hours, quiet areas with dimmed lights, and friendly security that kept an eye on you. Too bad the jet lag had me wide awake yet exhausted. Thank goodness for free wifi so that I was able to watch a movie and get back in contact with the outside world.

So now I’m home. Mum and Dad met me at the airport, and I’m now in my nice comfy bed in my room back in Wasaga Beach. I just had breakfast, and now it’s time to go back to sleep.

Am I home yet?

I am now once again sitting in an airport departure lounge, this time it’s in LA, which for those that are geographically impaired, is part of North America – the same continent as Canada.

I am freezing (which isn’t helped by the frappacinno I’m enjoying) and am exhausted after having been up for the past 24 hours. Yep, I didn’t end up sleeping on the plane. I have no idea why because I was tired when we first took off, but for the 10 hour flight sleep decided to evade me. The upside was that I was able to watch the sun rise for the second time on the 14th. That was a novel occurrence, and seems extremely sci-fi ish to me.

It didn’t take long to become genuinely sick of the entertainment options available. I don’t know how ancient the system is, but it seemed as if we were viewing the movies through poor-quality VHS.

On a side note, I just had a mini panic attack when I glanced at the clock on my laptop, before remembering that I’ve traveled across who knows how many time zones and haven’t set it yet. I caught the shuttle to Sydney airport exactly 24 hours ago.

Anyway, brekky wasn’t bad, although I’m not sure the sausage was even made of meat, but it was edible. It was getting off the airport at LAX that offered up the most annoying of situations. With three major international flights arriving at the same time, and only 23 immigration officers on duty, the wait to just let them know I was going home lasted over an hour. It was then to collect my baggage, and through customs, just to check my bags in once more, and go through security yet again. You would think that with the number of times that I’ve been screened in the last few days that they would realize that I’m not a threat. At least this time I timed it perfectly and had no waiting. What a relief.

There was something very important that I had to do before settling down to wait for my flight yet again. Phone home. I know that by now I should be fairly independent, but it was killing me that I hadn’t talked to my parents in days, and the time zones finally allowed easy communication. It was unfortunate that the funds made it a little harder, but thank goodness for collect calls.

So now I had dropped off my bags, phoned home and made it through security once again. It was time for sustenance, since I hadn’t had anything since brekky, and it was now almost five. I was excited to see that Starbucks was offering half price frappacinnos, hence the mocha coconut frozen concoction that has made me shiver uncontrollably, but has tasted oh so yummy.

I did have an interesting moment at the currency exchange counter. I hate changing money there, but I was so hungry it was a nessecity to acquire some local currency. A young man and I got chatting about traveling, and he was really keen to hear about all of my travels, which when I compare to some of my friends is really nothing. I was then enjoying my dinner when he approached me once again with his friends. It seems I had become something of a celebrity and they wanted to hear more about my travels. It was a fun little moment that made me feel a little less alone in this crazy world.

I have now finished my dinner, my drink and have run out of things to write about. It isn’t helping that my fingers are shaking as I attempt to type due to the cold. I am also starting to see double as exhaustion is starting to overwhelm me. I have been awake for about 27 hours now, with perhaps a total of 2 hours of cat naps. It might have been a silly idea to get a drink that had caffeine in it, although falling asleep now and missing my flight would be a bad situation. So I’ll stay awake for another hour and a half until I can finally collapse in my seat and get a good 3 hours of sleep in.

Welcome to Fiji

I am in Fiji! I’ve always wanted to visit this island and now I’m finally here. At the airport. At night. Not so exciting at the moment. I was hoping that I would be able to catch a glimpse of the lush landscape as we touched down. I didn’t take the time to consider that we would be arriving after the sun set, and being a small island and a small airport there weren’t really enough lights to light it up the way I had hoped. The only thing that has shown me that I definitely am here is the humidity that blasted me as I transferred from plane to airport.

I am dressed for Australian and Canadian weather. I forgot that most of my flights will be touching down in warm countries; hence the strange looks from people in singlets and short shorts. Well I’m definitely not out to make any sort of fashion statement anyway.

At this point I am extremely bored. My flight boards in just under two hours, and I am here alone in Nadi Airport with no local currency and no credit card to purchase anything. I am just hoping that I do get a meal on the plane so that I wont be kept awake by the rumbling of my very hungry tummy.

I have also noticed that I seem to have started to smell. I guarantee that I did spray deodorant this morning, but despite that attempt the stench of travel has already started to weave it’s net around me. Yuck.

I might as well do a bit of reminiscing since I will be sitting here for awhile.
I started my day bright and early, as per usual, and proceeded to chow down a nice peanut butter and jam sandwich, again, as per usual. Checking out of the hostel and catching the shuttle went smooth, and I only gave myself one last forlorn thought to all of the belongings that have been left scattered around this country due to baggage restrictions.

As I stood in an excessively long line to check in for my Air Pacific flight, which it turns out was also a Qantas flight, I prayed that the attendant wouldn’t think to weigh my carry on luggage. I’m sure I was carrying at least 15 kilos, and the limit was 7. My heart sank as I got closer to the front of the line and saw so many people repacking luggage at the counter. They were being tough today. I started to make a mental note of which attendants I didn’t want the bad luck of getting, and rehearsed my pleading speech.

Suddenly, 45 minutes later, it was my turn. I made my way to the counter, hoisted my surprisingly light case onto the scale and smiled. 21.5 kilos! Sweet, I did it! It was then that I thought I might have a problem. Without even glancing at the massive pack on my back the attendant asked me, “Did you change your flight?” My heart sank as I answered with a confused “No” and was then forced to stand helplessly as he went to check if I was really supposed to be on the flight. He came back with everything sorted, handed me my boarding pass, and explained the luggage procedures for LA, and then I was on my way! Relief washed over me, I had gotten away with my massive pack.

The flight was uneventful. I got to sit in an aisle seat beside the galley and almost at the rear of the plane, but it wasn’t as bad as I first anticipated. Our “light” meal was actually delicious. The fish option had some sort of white fish, with pasta salad, crisps and biscuits. It was definitely much more appetizing than peanut butter and jam.

So here I am at the airport, and I just noticed that many of the staff are crowded around the duty free shop. It seemed an odd place to gather, until I noticed the small screen in the electronics section that is playing some sport that everyone seems to be intently watching. I later learned it was a local footy match during my walk around.
I should mention that getting off the plane was actually a really nice experience. As I waited to once again pass through security, I was able to listen to traditional Fijian music played by locals to greet visitors. It was very entertaining, and made the whole travel experience seem just a little more friendly and comfortable.

An hour and 20 minutes left until I can line up once again to board the plane. I only have to do it another three times. Let’s see I had 39 hours of travel to complete. It started at 1pm today, and it’s now 6pm Sydney time. That means I’ve completed a whopping 15% of my travels. Oh God, how am I going to make it?

Now there are only 50 minutes left. I’ve started the people watching again after playing a game of Sudoku. There’s a very friendly lady that’s flying to LA and is annoying the family that waiting in front of me. She wont believe them that the plane has an upstairs. She’s got it in her mind that they are making fun of her, it’s been amusing. I’m starting to wonder if I should have tried to get a seat upstairs as well. At least this time I have a window seat, and hopefully it will be a good flight. I just want to fall asleep and wake up in LA. Although it might be interesting to see the sun rise again, so I might try to wake up for that. Let’s see, my flight is going to be ten hours long, with me arriving in LA at one in the afternoon. Sun would probably rise around six, so I should wake up only 3 hours after we start flying? That just seems strange.

Hmm all the men that work here are wearing skirts; even the security officers. I think that I would really like to come to Fiji again some day. Perhaps I can convince dad to go to Hawaii. That’s what I will save up for – to go to Hawaii with my mum and dad.
One major thing that I’ve noticed while sitting here and waiting - almost everyone sounds like me. It’s kind of depressing. I miss hearing all of the accents and being unique with mine. I guess that I am going to have to get used to it since I am going home.

Sometimes it feels like forever ago that I left and started this crazy journey, and then at times it’s as if it has just gone by in the blink of an eye.
The musicians have made their way to the departures lounge. Time to get excited that in only 40 minutes I’ll be boarding a plane that will take me back to my home continent.

Yes, Australia is cold

Waking to aching feet and legs is not a fun start to the day. Especially when you look around and realize that you're on the top bunk in a hostel with none of the creature comforts of home. I was so ready to just be over traveling for the moment.

After stretching as much as I could, and once again making my peanut butter and jam sandwiches for the day, I followed the crowds of commuters to King's Cross station to pick up my day pass. After getting lost a couple of times I made it to Circular Quay where I changed my mind from going to Bondi Beach and caught the ferry to Manly. It's supposed to be one of the best trips in the world, and it didn't disappoint, although I think I was frozen by the time we actually finished the ride across the harbour.

A short walk through The Corso and I was standing on the sun soaked, yet wind whipped Manly Beach. I would love to say that I took my time exploring, but in all honesty I was freezing and tired and only ended up spending a quick 45 minutes. Long enough to capture some gorgeous shots.

The ferry ride back to Circular Quay was just as freezing as before, but this time I was focused on getting images of the Opera House and the bridge, and even managed to capture a video of the what it's like to cruise around the harbour.

When I arrived I set out on a train ride across Harbour Bridge - I just wasn't in the mood to walk it. But the ride was less than thrilling, so I sucked it up and climbed the stairs to get a different perspective. It was worth it as I looked at across the harbour.

I trudged my way back to the train station, and caught the next train bound for The Blue Mountains. I must have been tired, because I awoke to realize that I was the only one left on the train, and I was at my stop in Penrith. After a minor panic attack, I was out on the platform waiting for Bec to pick me up and drive me up to her place in the mountains.

It is frigid up here. I'm sure there are those that think that I'm exaggerating, after all Australia shouldn't be cold, but when high temperatures aren't even coming close to double digits it's cold. I awoke this morning in Bec's lounge, with Bec on the couch opposite. It was the only warm place in the house so we just didn't move.

In the much warmer temperatures, although still only about ten degrees, we drove off on an adventure through the mountains. Visiting the Three Sisters was cold, windy and spectacular. The valley stretches forever, and the sun was just right to get some beautiful shots. Then we were off to see some other sites, including Govett's Leap, before enjoying my last Australian pie at Wentworth Falls.

Now back on the train to King's Cross, a little bit of repacking and more stuff left behind, and tomorrow I'm on my way home!

Icons

Sydney, Australia. It may not be the capital of this country, but it's the city that everyone thinks of when first hearing about the land down under, and I am in it. To be honest, it isn't as great as it has been made out to seem. I really did become a Melbourne lover during my time here, so poor Sydney has been shafted.

My first morning, awake at an early 6:30 am, I made my peanut butter and jam sandwiches for the day, packed my bag, and with map in tow I started out on my adventure around this iconic city.

As I ventured out into what is the bohemian and burlesque area of Sydney by night, I was greeted with well suited businessmen and women rushing through their commute to work. It was a completely different scene than just a few hours before.

First stop was the El Alamein Fountain right in King's Cross. I took my time having fun being a photographer and capturing the fountain with different shutter speeds before beginning my long walking tour of the day. My tour next took me past the Woolloomooloo (yes that name is real) naval base, where I caught a glimpse of many of the nation's huge warships. Very impressive. It was here at Finger Wharf that I stopped to enjoy the first half of my pb&j breakfast. The area is known for a multitude of al fresco dining spots that cater to the rich and famous. I just thought I would join the in crowd for a few moments, before I snapped a pic of Harry's Cafe de Wheel's pie place and continued on my backpacking journey.

It was still early morning here in Sydney, and quite a chilly Autumn morning at that, but the hike out to Mrs. Macquarie's Point and past her chair. The view across the harbour were spectacular, but as I rounded the point and looked towards the city, it was the sight of the Opera House that took my breath away. My entire life I have seen images of this iconic structure, and here I was looking across at it, and having my picture taken by it. The experience really was the crowning jewel on my entire trip.

But of course it wasn't enough to view it just from a distance, not when I could actually go right up to it. So after finishing the rest of my breakfast sitting on a sandstone formation that had been worn by the tides, and in full view of the Opera House, I set out on the path to this icon.

As I trekked around the harbour, I took in the sights of Fort Denison, the Sydney Skyline and the Royal Botanical Gardens. It was at the gardens that I received a pretty good shock. I was wandering the paths when I heard the strangest sounds coming from above me, it was unlike any bird that I had ever heard. And it wasn't a bird. Glancing up I took in the sight of thousands of bats resting in the trees, fighting over branches, and swooping amongst the foliage. It was extremely creepy.

After a few more detours I finally made my way up the steps of the Opera House, and there I was standing on the icon. I have to admit that the most exciting part was realizing that the sails are all made with tiles. I don't know what material I thought they would be, but tiles just didn't ever come to mind.

The rest of the day was spent wandering the city and taking in more of the free attractions, while capturing them on camera. I had fun, and plenty of memories were created, including a short visit to St. Mary's Cathedral.

I'm not going to lie that I did a bit of praying surrounded by the solitude of that cathedral. It may just be a building, but I did feel as if I was closer to God while I sat there and asked him to take a more prominent role in my life. To just show me a little more obviously that he was there. Strangely, as I left the cathedral and walked through The Domain, I said hello in passing to a man sitting on a bench. We exchanged pleasantries, but in response to my query on how his day was, he responded that God is good. I just felt it wasn't coincidence.

By the time I made my way back to the hostel at only 5pm my feet had been done in and I was exhausted. After enjoying some more rice crackers and canned chicken I settled in for an early night, and more adventures the next day.

How do I get there from here?

Well I made it to my hostel in Sydney in one physical piece, although I think I left my sanity at the airport. Flight ended fine. I was one of the first off, and then it was straight to the toilet before a detour to maccas for some much needed sustenance and then on to baggage claim.

I devoured my mcchicken burger as I watched my case go around the carousel a couple of times. I was too starved to bother putting the burger down even for a second. A quick phone call to the hostel informing them that I had arrived and it was off to the shuttle meeting point to get picked up.

That’s where the problems started. Now I’ve always found that when traveling in a new place the best way to not make a bunch of mistakes is to ask a bunch of questions. That policy didn’t work this time. Not at all.

The first shuttle driver I met I asked if he was the one who was supposed to take me to the Funk House Hostel. “Oh yes they just called me” he replied. Then my massive case was loaded into the back of the van, I was loaded into the front and there I remained in the shuttle bay for the next 2o minutes. The next thing I knew my case was back on the ground and I was told that I had to wait another few minutes for a different shuttle. “Do I go back to the terminal meeting point?” I queried. “Nope stay here.” And that’s what I did – for another hour. I asked every driver what was going on. No one knew. I called the hostel, and they were less than helpful.

Finally I made my way back to the meeting point. There I waited for another 45 minutes. And after another 3 calls to the hostel my driver finally arrived. I was fuming. Two hours waiting all because a shuttle driver from a different company had thought he could make a quick buck off of me and confused the hell out of me. I was not impressed.

On the up side the hostel is decent. Cleanish, and not too noisy considering it is on what is basically the sex strip of Sydney. Only for a few nights, I keep reminding myself, and hardly any time will actually be spent at the hostel.

After somewhat settling in I started on the task of making my bed – not fun when it’s the top bunk. Why does the shortest one always end up on the top bunk? It just doesn’t make sense. I then made my way past all of the glowing signs for gentlemen’s clubs, VIP rooms and lingerie shops to the Coles, where I purchased my dinners and lunches for the week.

So now I have once again returned to the security of my top bank to chow down on rice crackers and canned chicken. It really isn’t as bad as it sounds. I’ve met my bunk mate Kyle, and he seems decent.

Now to go about planning the next couple of days so that I keep myself busy and not get too homesick before Saturday rolls around.

I hate scales

I’ve made it through check in, through security and onto the airplane – and now I’m airborne on my way to Sydney for the first time.

Luckily my wait in line for check in was minimal, not giving my sense of dread about weighing my luggage to build to too great of a level. As I very awckardly hoisted my monster of a case onto the platform I crossed my fingers as the numbers of the scale crept higher and higher. Only 500g over, not bad at all. Until the wonderful attendant informed me that it would be an extra $26 charge for that 500g. Being flustered I ridiculously paid the fee instead of taking a few seconds to consider what I might be able to remove. Well at least they didn’t bother to weigh my carry on, which was well above the 7 kilo limit.

From there it was quickly through security. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve passed through those ominous metal detectors. It doesn’t even phase me anymore.
Whew only an hour until boarding now. Got my pain killers and water for my developing headache; although, now that I’m on the plane it really isn’t doing much. Plus my refusal to purchase any more food products is starting to annoy me as the smells of snacks being consumed are filling the cabin. Hopefully my hunger can hold out for the next hour and a half.

I had an exciting moment during my wait. Two girls that are on the Aussie show Winners and Losers were at the airport. First Australian celebrity sighting.
One good thing came of my extra baggage fee. I think the host took pity on me and I’ve been placed in row two with a window seat and no one beside me. That’s not too shabby. There is a man in the same row as me, he seems to be a washed up surfer who still thinks he’s really cool. I was drumming my fingers on my laptop while I was waiting for it to start. The glare he gave me informed me that he didn’t appreciate my expression of boredom. I’m sure that this tip-tapping of keys is trying his patience to the extreme, especially because my latest quick glance across to him showed him with closed eyes and a furrowed brow. You can’t please everyone.

I’m really starting to get hungry now. Too bad the only menu in this row is in the seat pocket in front of mr. grumpy. He doesn’t look asleep enough for me to reach over and grab it. Alas I will continue to sit here, belted into my seat for the next hour. Can’t we just land already?

The only game that I have on this computer is chess. I hate chess and am horrible at it. I can’t even win when I’m playing on easy mode with the computer giving me hints. Why didn’t I think to download another more exciting game? I could watch a movie, except those are all packed in my case, which is (hopefully) stowed under me in the plane. I really hope it is, because what am I going to do if my luggage gets lost?
This is what happens when I have too much time on my hands and nothing to do, or to eat. I ramble.

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

This post is coming to everyone via the Hudsons Coffee stand at Adelaide Airport. It really isn’t that exciting. Getting here nice and early to save money on a shuttle seems to have backfired, as I just spent over $10 on coffee and a breakfast muffin, and with three hours until my flight I’m guessing hunger is going to set in again. It isn’t helped by the incredible boredom at all. All of the shops are through security. To get through security I need a boarding pass, and to get one of those I need to be able to check in for my flight. That’s not going to happen for another hour yet… well 56 minutes, but who’s counting?

Sadly this isn’t even an area where a great extent of people watching can be done. There’s the old man with his wife who is sitting over by the foreign exchange booth. He seems to be suffering from some sort of allergy, as he is constantly rubbing his very red and watery eyes. There is the friendly, but half deaf information man, who was the one who kindly directed me to the coffee stand. He’s doing a fair bit of wandering and directing. Other than that there are just a bunch of other bored looking passengers waiting for flights, or lifts from the airport, or people to arrive on flights.

Oh, that was interesting. This short little man that obviously works here just came out of the secure area with his hood all pulled up around his face and a very suspicious garbage bag in his clutches. I know that it’s nothing… he’s probably the cleaning man, but I’m bored and have to make up something to keep entertained.

There is the cute guy that came to the coffee shop after me. The unfortunate part is that he chose a spot to enjoy his beverage that is directly behind me. Therefore, if there is to be any ogling it would be extremely indiscreet… so again I must just imagine.

It isn’t even the boredom that is making me want to just be through security already. I know that my poor luggage is overweight and I just want to get through check-in without having to pay exorbitant fees. It’s just eating away at me that I might have to toss even more stuff than the three bags left at Ally’s and the two left in Melbourne. How on earth did I accumulate so much in only eight months?!

Hmm I’m almost out of coffee. Now I am out of coffee. Forty-five minutes until I can check in. Do I splurge and buy another cup for a crazy $4, or maybe get that yummy chocolate muffin that has been calling my name since I sat down? Or do I suck it up and just keep waiting without sustenance to take my mind off the slow moving hand of the big clock over the international arrivals area?

There goes a backpacker. He was kind of cute. I don’t know how people can cram enough into those packs to last for their travels. Volume wise I seem to have been able to consolidate my stuff down, but I’m still lugging around about 35 kilos, and I wouldn’t be at all happy to have all that weight on my back. I should mention that my limit for this flight is only 32 kilos, and for my next flight it is a measly 30! That is unless I suck it up and pay the $50 for excess, and get a whopping 7 kilos extra. Woohoo!

Sadly it will be this weigh in today that will determine whether more of my hard earned money gets sucked up by the multi-billion dollar travel industry.

Down to 39 minutes until check in. Now I think I’m almost glad that I have a little bit longer because that coffee really isn’t sitting well. Or perhaps it was the apple I attempted to eat for breakfast. It taught me a very valuable lesson that you shouldn’t eat fruit right after brushing your teeth because it makes it almost impossible to tell if it’s rotten or not.

Oh a plane just got in. There are the pilots and flight attendants. They don’t look as tired as I would have guessed. Maybe I should learn French so that I can be a flight attendant in Canada. That might be fun. Or I might want to shoot some of those annoying passengers that seem to freak out over every little noise and complain about everything. That wouldn’t be so fun. I might become famous like that flight attendant that jumped from the plane after getting pissed off. Not sure I want to become famous for that reason.

Well it’s now only 34 minutes until I can check in. Time to get my belongings together, make my way to the toilet and stand in line, before waiting for another two hours. Yay.

If I roll it will it fit better?

This post is courtesy of my procrastination in regards to packing... once again. At this point I think I have repacked at least a dozen times, and I'm wholeheartedly sick of it. One conclusion I've reached: I am definitely not a backpacker. I like my clothes (and shoes) too much, and it's heartbreaking to even think of leaving one skirt or sandal behind. Alas that is what must happen, unless I'm willing to pay a few hundred dollars in excess luggage fees... which I'm definitely not.

I'm down to technically only 10 days left here in Australia. I'm not counting today because it's half over and I'm doing nothing except packing which is boring, and the last day I'll be at the airport by 10am so that doesn't count either.

I've had a good time here in South Australia, and I'm looking forward to the next few days. Hopefully see some more of the beautiful countryside and visit a few more friends before it's off to Sydney.

I finally was able to meet up with an old friend from Golden, who I hadn't seen in years. She now has a baby. All these babies and weddings are definitely making me wonder what I've been doing with my life. Then I look back at all my memories and smile. I've done a lot.

I picked my last bunch of grapes (hopefully forever) last Friday, and then got to enjoy an end of season bbq with my fellow pickers. I am now officially unemployed here in Australia - and am loving every minute of it!

Well, my guilty conscience is starting to nag again. I really should at least move all of my crap off of Ally's bed before she gets home. That's my incentive to do something with all of my accumulated stuff. And in only 12 or 13 days (depending on how you want to calculate with all of the time changes) I will be unpacking again back in Canada.

Blood, Sweat and Memories

I believe that this blog is past due for a bit of a light-hearted post. I've packed up from my travels and moved down to Adelaide for a bit of a different scene. And the scene has been everything that I hoped it would be.

After dragging my suitcase through the Melbourne public transit network, I settled down to wait at Southern Cross Station for my overnight coach ride from Melbourne to Adelaide. And then I was lucky enough to have a friend come and visit after work to see me off on the next leg of my journey. It was the perfect ending to my time in Melbourne and made the change a lot more bearable.

As I sat in the Adelaide Central bus station waiting for my coach transfer the next morning, I took a few moments during my few hours wait to take in the scenery. It really only did take a few moments. That's one thing I've realized while traveling: transportation centres look just about the same wherever you are. I have to admit that it was a little depressing, even once I was on the coach. As many highlights as Adelaide might have, it is still just another city.

And then the coach moved into the South Australian countryside and my heart lifted. Even dragging my broken bag (the wheels broke) up the main road of McLaren Vale didn't seem too bad when I had hills, vineyards and the ocean for my scenery.

I spent the weekend indoors searching for a job, and catching up with friends. Monday arrived, and I found a job that I started the next day. I would be picking grapes for wineries in the region! How very Australian backpacker of me.

I awoke on my first day of my new job at a wonderful five in the morning. It was dreadful walking along the Main street to my pick up point in the cold dark of night. I wasn't very impressed with my choice of job.

Standing around for another hour before catching a ride out to the vineyards didn't increase my expectations; however, I couldn't help but smile as I picked grapes at a dreadfully slow pace while looking out at the beautiful South Australian scenery. The second day I got a treat when a kangaroo hopped up the rows of vines while I was picking.

I'm not going to lie, grape picking is definitely hard work. There is my blood in the 2011 vintage to prove my dexterity at handling the clippers. I come home sweaty and dirty and exhausted every day, but I also come home with memories of great people and gorgeous views.

One thing that I have determined is that after I finish the 2011 Vintage I will never be picking fruit again! Unless of course I'm in another country and desperate for cash... then I might once again consider it.

Friends

After a week of insane highs and lows I feel as if I have finally found a few moments just to focus my mind enough to figure out what the hell is going on. I started the week with the realization that I wanted to go out on a limb and live for myself for a little while. I have now ended it but finding myself relying on some amazing friends and family. That too has made me take a moment to analyze. I have never enjoyed relying on others, or needing someone, yet I seem to do it quite often. It has always made me wonder why it is that my friends stick by me when I’ve put them through so much. To this day I am still shocked that when I ask for help I get it. I feel like such a burden to even ask, and the fact that I have so many great friends that are willing to give me a hand up always takes my breath away.

I will never be that friend that everyone else turns to. I wont be the reliable one, or the safe one. For a long time I haven’t been okay with that because I have felt that I’m letting everyone that stands by me down. But now I know that I’m not letting them down. I am the loyal friend that will always be there in a second. I would never use my friends, or abuse that friendship that you guys have so willingly given me. I make your life challenging, and if I am honest with myself I know that will never change. My life has never been simple and never will be, and I think I might be okay with that. And I think my friends are okay with that too. I would never hold it against any of you if you just had enough with me. I know that it can be wearing having to deal with all of my drama, but I’m just coming to the understanding that as much as you go through with me, you guys do it because you care and know that I care.

I will always be that friend that everyone knows is making mistakes and does it anyway. And I will probably also always be that friend that has to get taken care of and bailed out. I will always give everything I have without a thought to those friends that have given so much to me.

I’m sorry that I put you guys through so much, especially when you know I’m doing something wrong and try to tell me. Of course you have all figured out by now that I really hate being told what to do, and will continue to make mistakes until I figure it out myself no matter how many times you told me. I don’t do it to frustrate you, and I truly appreciate how much you guys care, but I’ve always felt the need to find my own way through things. Thank you for loving me still despite my stubbornness.

I wish I could say at the end of this that I wont fill your lives with drama and challenges, but we all know that I’m going to keep living my own crazy life. This is just a really big thank you for putting up with me, understanding me (as much as is possible) and for caring about me when I make it difficult. I hope you all know that I would be there for you in a second and would give everything for you guys. I owe you more than I will ever be able to repay.

Six Months In

How many times have I changed my mind about what I want over the past six months? I have quite honestly lost count, and still I feel as unsure about what my future holds. If this trip has done anything for me it has forced me to stop trying to make plans and just live. Now I have to find a way to reconcile the mature, independent and responsible side of myself with this new fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants self.

Ever since I was a very little girl I lived my life for the future. Everything I did and felt was based on the future successes that I was bound to have. I'm only just starting to realize that I'm not sure what success in my life really means to me. There are countless people that have known me for years, or even for just a moment that believe that they know the key to my success, and what will make me happy. They might be right, but I still have no idea.

Is it traveling the world, and seeing different cultures and countries that entices me the most? Is it wealth? Getting published and working my way up in a company? Having a career, or just being a mum? I have no clue, and that's what I intend to find out before I let anymore of my life just float past.

I'm starting to understand a part of myself that I never let show before. It's the spontaneous side that just wants to truly experience life and not worry about living up to anyone's standard of what I should be doing. The problem is that this is all very new to me, and the stress associated with letting go of a strict plan for life seems to have completely unhinged me. It's leaving me questioning whether this new road is worth taking, yet the other one, with the structure and expectations, seems so boring to me now. I can't see it leading to happiness.

I don't know if I'll be happy on this new road, or if it will just lead me to destruction and financial ruin, but I think that it's time I committed to taking it. Too long I've been just dipping a toe in and then running back to the structured safety I know when it gets hard. I want to truly live and experience everything that I can from my life. I want to give everything I have, and know that no matter what happens I gave everything to everything experience and didn't hold back.

Nothing in my life is going to look anything like what everyone has always imagined for me, but I think that's what I want. I want it to be my life, not a fantasy or dream or expectation, but just me seeing what happens. Looking back, my life has always wandered on a bit of a reckless path. I've never strayed too far from everything that was set, but that was done out of fear of disappointing those who had always supported me and counted on me. I'm ready to completely strike out on my own, and make my own path. I'm not forgetting those who have always stood by me, and I'm not forsaking everything that they have always done for me, but I need to find myself and for that I need to stop worrying about failing to meet expectations. I know enough now to know that those who still stand by and support and love me will do so no matter what. They want me to be happy and successful, but they will always love me no matter what form that success ends up taking.

I have always been independent to an extent, but yet I have never enjoyed being completely alone. I want to share experiences with people, but the path I take through life has always made it difficult for anyone to follow for too long. It makes me truly appreciate those that stand at a distance, watching and supporting and always there when I need to turn to someone for help. Unfortunately it looks like I'm asking you to continue to wait for me, and watch me make more mistakes.

I've never let myself live an easy life, even though I know it could have been. I had every opportunity placed before me, and yet there's something more. I've always been searching for something, and I've been too afraid to really let myself go and find it. I'm not losing my mind, even though with the way I am rambling I'm sure most must think I have by now. More than anything I'm reaffirming to myself that this time I'm living for me, and most wont like it and wouldn't choose it for me or for themselves, but I'm choosing it and it's something that I have to do. There is one person who I think might be just as crazy as I am and be willing to actually travel along this winding trail with me. You know who you are. If you're not I will understand and it wont change how I feel. I love all of you, and I hope that this hasn't scared any of you too much.

Emotions

It's moments when I'm angry and upset that I realize how emotional I really can be. It's also those moments when I'm happiest that I notice how much some people in my life can take me for granted. I'm more full of emotion than most people realize, or can ever imagine. It's those people that really love and care for me that understand how full of love I am, and how at some moments that emotion overwhelms me and causes me to say and act in a way that I often regret.

I've pushed countless people away from me, and yet my love for them and even those that have hurt me has never abated. I love every single person that has come into my life to some extent, and that is why when I end up hurt I never blame them. I cannot blame someone that I love, and for me that is everyone.

Hard thing is, is that it doesn't stop me from feeling pain and sadness. From analyzing every single moment and word that we shared.

The little things

It seems that so often we let the little things in life cloud our vision and keep us from seeing the big picture. Yet, I realized today, as I sat enjoying a glass of wine with friends, that it works both ways. How often have I focused on the destination, on the big picture and the big issues, and, therefore, not been able to see what was right in front of me? The number of sights I see and places that I visit while traveling around this marvelous country pale when held next to the experience of sharing dinner with close friends.

It is not the scenic beauty of the beaches around Adelaide that I am going to remember most of my recent trip; although there is no doubting there lasting imprint in my mind. It was those shared laughs with my friends that will be most cherished. The birthday dinner in a local restaurant, and a pint at sunset at the local pub are just such memories that will always be foremost in my mind.

I have spent so much time trying to figure out what it is that I truly want, and who I want to become, that I fear I had almost forgotten to appreciate life's little subtleties. Today two of my best friends opened my eyes to the joys of a comfortable, and quiet, night in.

I will always remember those grand moments I've had the fortune to experience, and images will forever be imprinted in my mind. But, it is those intimate moments of laughter and sorrow with friends that will forever be inscribed on my heart and soul.

Dreams

I’m living a dream. It’s a dream that I have harboured since Grade 4 when I first learned of Australia. As we looked at pictures of duck-billed platypus’ and kangaroos in our school room, I knew that one day I wanted to visit this strange country that was so far away.

Now I’m here, and something just doesn’t seem right. Don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely loving it, and it truly is a place that I will always cherish. But there’s just something. It took me a long time to figure out what it was that was nagging at me, but then I received an email from back home. From one of my dearest and closest friends, and it hit me. I’m not sharing my dream with anyone.
Sure I’m writing about it, and my friends and family get to view everything second hand through my pictures, but there’s no one here sharing my dream with me. And that truly makes the difference.

I’ve spent so many years searching for my dreams and trying to follow every single one. And I have had some amazing adventures, made wonderful friends, and have lasting memories from every experience. But the thing that I’ve been missing is my friends and family. Or maybe it’s just my family, because those friends back home really are part of my family.

So now I’ve realized that I want to be with them. I want to be near them when they go chasing their dreams. I want to experience all of the ups and downs of life with them. I’m not forgetting about all the dreams that I still cherish, and I’m not giving up anything. I’m merely realizing that being with my family is much more important and fulfilling than anything I could experience as I flit about trying to find what I want.
Don’t get me wrong I’m still going to be doing a fair bit of flitting around the world, but now I know where my home really is, and where I want to come back to.

Hello 2011

It’s New Year’s Day. At least it is in Australia. I believe that they are just about to ring in 2011 back in North America. Strange how the time difference isn’t too noticeable until an event where everyone celebrates at a specific time.

So here I am on the other side of the world at the start of 2011. The fireworks were spectacular, the company was great, but now it comes time for those new year’s resolutions. What is it that I most want?

Sure I’ve got all the traditional resolutions. Eat healthier, get active, lose weight, yadda yadda. But I think that considering how special the start of this year is, I need a special resolution. Maybe that can be my resolution. To figure out what it is I really want this year.

An Aussie Christmas

Some may think that being a Canadian it would seem very strange for me to have a non-white Christmas. To be honest I’ve had a lot more warm, green Christmases than white ones in my lifetime. Yet, despite the similarity in weather, it just doesn’t feel like Christmas this year.

There are Christmas carols in all the stores, although they do refuse to play them in my restaurant. There is a big Christmas tree in the city, with banners, lights and festive displays proclaiming the festive season. I’m even working with Santa, and yet the Christmas spirit seems a long way off.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m not enjoying myself, but I’m feeling a little bit homesick for family and friends, eggnog and turkey, and presents under the Christmas tree.

There are some wonderful Christmasy experiences, and I’m cashing in on every one. The display at Crown Casino is really beautiful, and as I watched I felt just like a little kid again. Little kids faces lighting up as they walk through the curtain and see Old Saint Nick waiting to listen to their Christmas lists, makes me remember Christmas’ past.

And then suddenly it was Christmas Eve. It tends to sneak up on you when you’re working over 60 hours a week. Christmas tunes finally played through the speakers at work, and everyone enjoyed the giddiness of the holiday.
Christmas morning I opened my emails, to discover my Christmas gift. Then after getting as close to them as possible, thanks to the wonders of Skype, I felt a little less alone. A picnic in the park with some new friends made for lazy Christmas Day, that might not have been perfect, but will still be remembered with fond memories.

It's a Whitsunday Day

There are a number of reasons why I made the long trek to the other side of the world, and a big one of those is beaches! The sound of waves gently lapping the shore, as a tropical breeze cools me from the heat of the sun shining in a cloudless sky is as close as I want to get to Heaven anytime soon.

As Meghan and I sat in Avalon airport, each toting only one bag with bathers and cute sundresses, the anticipation of a relaxing beach side holiday depleted any weariness at the hours of travel to get there. And it was more than I ever could have imagined.
Luck favoured us for each aspect of our trip. As we taxied along the runway, our pilot informed the passengers that there would be a couple minutes delay because Melbourne Airport was closed due to a storm. Lucky for us we had changed our plans and decided to fly out of Avalon, or we never even would have been airborne for our amazing trip.
Despite the pilot pushing the plane’s limits, I believe he was attempting to see how far he could angle it before we went into a barrel roll, we made it safely to Mackay. Now it was only a short bus ride, complete with the middle-aged driver singing pop songs, to Airlie Beach.

You can imagine the feelings of disappointment when we awoke to find the blue sky covered by gray clouds, and rain intermittently soaking everything that the humidity hadn’t already dampened. This was our day to cruise out to the Great Barrier Reef, we wanted a little sun! We weren’t going to let anything dampen our excitement at seeing this wonder, however, and even without the sun beating on us, we sported cute sun dresses.

I believe that again fortune favoured us, because as we passed the last islands of the Whitsundays and headed out into the ocean towards the outer reef, the sun not only poked through the clouds, but banished every last one from the sky. As we arrived at the Great Barrier Reef the sun shone brilliantly from a crystal clear sky, dazzling the tropical waters of Knuckle Reef Lagoon.
After only a little bit of coaxing we were dressed in our stylish stinger suits, with flippers, snorkels and the all important underwater camera. Sitting on the platform, it took the conquering of a few more nerves before plunging into the warm ocean water. The reef was beautiful, albeit much less colourful than I always imagined it would be. It was a truly amazing experience to be out there without any land in sight.
Our remaining time at the reef consisted of enjoying a delectable lunch while wearing only bathers and gazing across the blue expanse of ocean. There was a chance to view the reef up close in a glass bottom boat, as well as in a semi-sub, complete with commentary from the local marine biologist. Before we knew it our sun filled day on the ocean had come to an end and we were cruising back to our tropical island for the night.

The ferry arrived at Long Island at dusk, and in the waning light, with torches lighting the path, and casting their glow on palm fronds, it felt like a true tropical paradise. The resort was quiet, and secluded. Hammocks swung between palm trees, offering a view out across the bay.
That first night was one that I won’t soon forget. We relaxed in the warm night air, enjoying nachos and sipping coronas as wallabies hopped on the nearby beach. Before long a local musician was taking requests and entertaining the twenty guests that were enjoying the night.

And then, as we all sat covered by the tin roof, the rains came. It was a true tropical rain storm. I have never seen rain come down so hard, drenching everything and not easing up for hours.

Our excitement at being on a tropical island was bit dampened the next day when we opened our screen door to a complete mass of grey cloud cover and a constant drizzle. Well, we were Canadian, and this was a lot better than snow, so we didn’t let it stop our explorations. We cooed over wallabies, steered clear of creepy spiders, and let ourselves get balked by birds; and had an amazing morning. While enjoying a coffee on the deck, and looking at over the bay, a small break in the clouds was spotted. How exciting! It grew until we once again had sunshine, and baked in the heat, while melting in the humidity.

The tides were extreme and as the sun appeared, the tides went out, exposing new things to explore. While trekking on an exposed peninsula to Pelican Island, we worked hard to avoid crabs and barnacles, although the latter managed to leave a mark.
Awaking the next morning, the sun shone done on us, sending an invitation to enjoy it’s warmth while we sailed out to Whitehaven Beach. With a quick stop on Daydream Island, where Meghan and I both immediately fell in love with the resort, we were soon on board the Camira and sailing through the Whitsundays. We toasted our skin, and soothed our souls with the sounds of the prow cutting through the waves. It was a truly tropical day.

Our last night in Airlie Beach we decided we should experience a little bit of the party atmosphere that the area is known for. After being mistaken for girlfriends by a guy that believed he could hit on Meghan in his extremely drunken state, and noting how many girls were willing to enter the wet t-shirt contest, we decided to call it a night.

With a few hours before our bus came to take us back to the airport the next day, what else was there to do except shop? Especially with so many sales on!
Despite the exhaustion we both felt after arriving back in Melbourne at 2am, our trip to the Whitsundays will be one remembered and smiled upon forever.