Mia, the Kangaroo Whisperer
Our last day in Brisbane, we went to the Australia Zoo, founded by the late Steve Erwin, the originial Crocodile Hunter. He is Rob's idol.
We finally fulfilled the Australian pre-requisites of spotting kangaroos and crocs, though from comfort and safety.
I confess, I knew nothing about Brisbane when we arrived to visit our good friends for a week of our holiday (note how Australian I've become? They don't use the term vacation. That is just so utterly American.). Best I could figure from the Bible, I mean the Lonely Planet Guide, was that the city was on a river and very close to the Gold Coast, the land of endless beaches, beautiful bodies and surfing.
As a side note, of all the places I've travelled, I've determined that Australia is the land of beautiful people. They dress well, maintaining an air of casual elegence, or rather elegently casual, with broad smiles, rumpled oxfords with flip flops, healthy bodies and shining faces. I think the country's motto is "no worries, mate," which was even featured on the airport boomerang, which means it must be true. Like 'pura vida' in Costa Rica, it seems to embody the very philosophy of the country. We did our best to follow that motto, and it really does open up the world up to all good things.
Anyhow, back to Brisbane. As we were staying with friends, I did no research on Brisbane, relying on their knowledge to direct our experience. We spent the first day touring the city.
How could I not know about Brisbane? It's set on a winding river, with excellent weather and near the ocean. It's overshadowed by Sydney, but has to be on a list of 100 Best Cities Around the World to Live. Neighborhoods are filled with beautiful Victorian homes - called Queenslanders, or sleek modern tracts and all abound up and down the river with bustling restaurants and bars.
Queenslander home
We took the ferry into downtown much like you can do in San Francisco, but without bundling up in polar fleece first. We walked through town passed high end shops and crossed scenic bridges. The entire shoreline was developed with a bike path alongside. We finished at the "False Beach" as my kids called it. Streets Beach is a manmade beach and pool along the river, complete with sandy bottom and life guard stations. The kids loved it. The fake beach is surrounded by street performers, ice cream shops and souvenir shops within walking distance.
The "False Beach". Notice Swampy, the lifeguard on duty.
As I sat on the beach in this well established town, I was stunned to hear that in 2011, there had been devastating floods in Brisbane of epic porportions. The entire fake beach was under water, as was the restaurant where we had lunch and much of the area we walked through. I'm not sure what surprised me the most, the floods, how quickly the city rebuilt the shoreline, as it was only three years later and no where were there signs of rebuilding, or the fact that I had no idea. It was their version of Hurricane Katrina and I don't know if it even hit page three in the news in the US. I was embarrassed by my lack of worldiness. Odds are, I didn't hear about the floods as they were probably overshadowed at the time in the US by American Idol contestant winners. As I do on every trip, I swear that I'm going to subscribe to the Economist and listen to the BBC when I'm back home.
I'm excited to see what else this city holds.
Pictures of Nearby Stradbrooke Island "straddie" as it's know in Australian terms
Australians are a straightforward bunch. I was informed this by our friends when we arrived in Brisbane and asked about various names of places and things. This applies to locations. If the area is filled with tin can fishing boats, aha, Tin Can Bay it will thus force be named. Here are just a few of the signs that we captured. We were a bit punch drunk on the drive from Hervey Bay to Brisbane. We had just left Lady Elliott Island and still had salt water in our hair and on our skin on the three hour drive to Brisbane. We also went through every song that my phone had captured in our playlist.
Short Black, Long Black, Flat White. Though they could be insults, instead these are our coffee options. Rob turned and looked at me with a wild eye, desperate for caffeine - 'how do I order a cup of coffee? I can't find one anywhere on the menu and this is the third coffee shop we've been to.' Even our friends in Brisbane had no idea how to order a cup of coffee, as Sam is partial to skinny lattes. Heck, if the lattes will make me skinny, I'm on board.
We never did find out and Rob resorted to instant folgers coffee at the house. Yes, the same brand that he makes fun of my parents for drinking. Ah, the ironies.
After Lady Elliott Island, we made our way down to Brisbane to stay with friends. We've been here almost a week. It's been so much fun I haven't found time to blog. It feels like our first week here was all about Australia for the enthusiastic tourist and our second week has been all about living in Australia.
We've learned so much. When we arrived, our friends looked at us aghast and exclaimed, "your accent is so strong!"
Us? We have an accent??
To put this in perspective, these friends are the Bodimeades. It's a family we met in Point Loma at baseball little league fields. They were Australian but had lived in the US for several years. Eighteen months ago, they moved back to Brisbane, Australia. We were seeing them for the first time in eighteen months. Never mind that I could barely understand what else they said to me when we all excitedly embraced and caught up- it never occurred to me that we had the accent. How funny and narcissistic. From that moment on, we practiced adopting the Australian accent. That involved not only swallowing all "r" sounds, but adopting certain words and dropping others.
Quick and Dirty Guide
"How are you going?" Rather than "how are you doing?"
It's rubbish and you put it in the bin, not trash.
Paul is properly pronounced Paw, as in the famous Australian singer Paul Kelly (I had never heard of him but he was compared to being our Bruce Springsteen)
Bacon should be thick cut and cooked on the Barbie (not BBQ)
When in doubt, shorten all words to give them a cute 'ie' sound at the end, even if they are despicable, like Mosquitos. They become the endearing term, 'mozzies'. As in, these f-ing mozzies won't leave me alone.
Before we left for our dear Lady Elliot, we went canyoning in the blue mountains. Canyoning is something that I didn't quite understand but thought it sounded fun. We arrive in Katoomba at 8am sharp to get fitted in 5 mm thick wetsuits, helmets and large backpacks that double as flotation devices. Our guide has rock climbing gear on in addition to his pack and we pile into a beat up truck for the 90 mi. drive into the wilderness. Once we arrived in the literal middle of nowhere - the last logging truck was 15 min earlier on the dirt road, we load up and bushwalk a mile to the canyon.
The canyon itself is still unclear as we slog our way through a narrow river path, stepping in the 50 degree water. There is something so liberating about walking through the stream and not trying to avoid it to stay dry. We come to our first rock slide. It's fun and we stay relatively dry. It's the next slide into deep water where we get dunked and feel just how cold this water is. It's exhilarating. We continue through the canyon, walking, climbing, sliding and jumping through narrow crevasses into deep inky pools. It's so much fun, so long as you don't think about it too much. Looking up, the canyons are narrow and tower above us in earth tones and gentle curves.
The canyons are truly beautiful, when I remember to look up. As we emerge from the first big canyon back into the forest, it feels like we have time traveled back to a more pristine time when nature was in her full glory. Big rock formations and giant ferns are everywhere. We stop for lunch and the kids are freezing, even in thick wetsuits. We push on but turn back before the end of the second canyon as it's clear the kids are no longer having fun as Mia almost breaks into tears as she looks at the inky black water that she is suppose to jump into again.
Rob and I simultaneously feel like terrible parents and are selfishly giddy from the natural playground. As soon as we emerge back into the sun and forest, we strip out of the wetsuits and into dry clothes and the kids are happy again, already describing the experience as the "fifty foot drops" and "ice bergs in the water.'
Mission accomplished. Videos to come soon.
The marine life was amazing. Here's a quick video of one of many turtle sightings
This is a complete side note to the trip. Kai and Mia don't enjoy sharing a room and they absolutely refuse to sleep in the same bed when we are traveling. Luckily, they are willing to find alternative solutions. Kai, in fact, is willing to go to great lengths to establish his own space.
This was his bed choice in one of our hotel rooms. He put the couch cushions on the ground and made himself a den.
Coral and fine white sand is crunching under our reef shoes as our whole family approaches the water for our first snorkel. Because of the currents, you "drift snorkel" here, which means that you start at the entry point and drift down a half a mile to the next set of posts where you exit the water and walk back across the sand. We've been warned about the poisonous stonefish and the small shell fish that excretes deadly venom when you pick it up to admire the shell. Australians are a funny bunch as when they describe these life threatening creatures, it's always with an air of nonchalance, as if describing a bothersome mosquito. I guess there really are so many deadly creatures here it's hard to get too worked up over the minor ones. Despite their nonchalance, we adhere strictly to all the precautions of wearing shoes or fins when in the water.
What no one bothers to mention is the other dangerous moment that occurs when transferring from reef shoes into fins while in the water floating near giant coral heads and waves greedily lapping at your gear and pulling it out to sea. In no time, our stuff is everywhere and floating away rapidly. We finally pull it together and off we go. It is hands-down the best snorkeling I've ever done. Fish of all sizes are everywhere.
Rob is beside himself as he names all the fish. The kids are diving after Rob, chasing fish and eyeing the turtles, that lazily come up for air near us. The kids are beaming. I can see wide tooth grins behind the snorkels and they cannot get enough.
We see so much marine life, it puts the aquarium to shame. We even spot a couple reef sharks and giant sting rays. I cannot do it justice with words and the pictures barely capture it. All I can say is if ever given the chance, do not pass up the opportunity to spend time here.
Turtle swimming through the family
We are in a small Cessna plane flying low over the Great Barrier Reef. In a plane this small, I feel the vulnerability of being in the air without a safety net. Each bit of turbulence and I'm looking at the front controls and the facial expressions of the pilot for any sign that something is amiss. He remains calm and the dials remain steady, but I maintain vigilance and compntinue to eye the unforgiving 3,000 foot drop into shark infested, deceptively beautiful aqua water that stretches forever. I look over and both kids are reading, completely unaware that I am keeping the plane aloft through my Jedi-like concentration. They seem to be unaffected by the view or the plane.
We fly low over a gorgeous, small coral island. For a moment I think it might be Lady Elliot island, but as I look closer, I can see the whole island but no airstrip. It's a shame, as the island is stunning, but other than a grassy field in the middle of the island, there's no place to land.
We pass by and I'm looking ahead for the next island when we swing around and drop rapidly towards that grassy field.
Seriously? Again, I eye the captain for signs of panic - you can do things like watch the captain and his controls when the plane is this small - and still, he shows a calm, almost bored expression.
I brace myself as we hit the ground, rolling over potholes, irrigation systems and the uneven grassy field. Birds by the dozens fly overhead and people are waving from the ground. We step off and I swear, we are in a paradise, or maybe Jurassic Park. As we are walk across the field/airstrip to the nearly building, a couple in swimsuits with snorkeling gear saunters across the airstrip and into the jungle, in search of the coral gardens. It is surreal.
The buildings are efficiently comprised, with the dive shop adjacent to the "departure lounge" the small six seated room for people waiting to leave the island. Everything is balmy and tropical. The restaurant overlooks the lagoon, which is like no other lagoon I've been to. I expect Bo Derek her perfect body and signature corn rows to emerge from the water any second
We've been here all of ten minutes and I already know three nights is not long enough.
We're headed to the Great Barrier Reef right now and are at the airport frantically digging through luggage. Phone chargers, flip flops and underwear flying everywhere.
Our flight plan takes us on Virgin Australia first from Sydney to Hervey Bay, a tiny airport near Brisbane. From there, we take a puddle jumper out to Lady Elliot Island, our destination. We have been warned that in order to take the puddlejumper, we can only bring 10kg of luggage per person. At our hotel room in Sydney, we've carefully packed each bag, so they each weigh about the same. 10kgs is not much, but we make it work. We allotted ourselves only carry-ons to prevent accruing additional fees from checking luggage.
Our plan backfires when we reach the airport.
As we go to the check-in kiosk at Virgin, feeling very smart about our well-packed, carry-on luggage, we face a bold sign and a scale, announcing that you can only take 7kg per person as a carry-on and that anything over must be checked. Having faced $30 per bag charges from Virgin before, we throw open all our bags to consolidate. Our aim is to check two bags and carry the rest. It's a frantic and messy business, airing all our dirty laundry (literally) in front of strangers, just to save a few dollars. Sweating and stressed, we squeeze the bags shut and triumphantly approach the bag check line.
Within thirty seconds, the woman behind the counter checks our two bags, at no fee. Let me repeat that. No fee. All that effort and we could have just checked all four bags.
Sometimes you can win and lose in the same moment.
We've left Sydney for the nearby Blue Mountains, an area of densely forested mountains two hours outside of Sydney, made famous by the blue haze that hangs over the mountains, caused by some combination of Eucalyptus leaves and the atmosphere. We hit a couple of stunning vistas before checking into our first ever airbnb experience.
Airbnb is an accommodation service. Individuals rent our their homes, a room, a guest suite or a treehouse. It's often less expensive than a hotel and has a more local experience. We are met by Isabelle, our lovely french hostess, who treats us like family and shows us our guest suite. She serves us breakfast in the mornings, lets us use her laundry and gives us the wifi password. I am utterly convinced this is the way to go. She recommends dinner at a place within walking distance that was a former car repair shop, called The Garage. It is one of the better meals I've every had.
So far, J'adore Le Montagne's Blu and airbnb.
Rob enjoying happy hour from our home at Le Maison Blue
So, I'm sitting cross-legged in the dirt in a cave with eucalytus leaves shoved up my nose. As I look around at the other people with various green leaves and stems poking out of their nostrils, including my husband and kids, I'm wondering, what in the world have I gotten us into?
I had been searching for an adventure that would feel unique to Australia and a bit off the beaten path. I stumbled across this Walkabout in the Lonely Planet Guide. It is advertised as a day spent with an aboriginal guide, bushwalking in the Blue Mountains and learning about aboriginal culture, including visits to sacred sites with drawings thousands of years old. I booked it and now find myself questioning my judgement as the guide takes another deep breath in of Eucalyptus and pauses a good fifteen seconds to enjoy the euphoria of the leaves before speaking.
Evan, our guide, is of aboriginal descent. He is tall and lanky and he is as fair as Snow White. When he arrived to initiate us on our journey, I thought, we just got scammed. He looks nothing like the "authentic" guys in traditional clothing and painted faces playing the digiredoo on the boardwalk by the Opera House. Now here we are in the dirt with Evan, as he unravels a whole series of beliefs and assumptions we have about the Aboriginal people. He's deeply knowledgable, quite spiritual and very opinionated.
We eventually yank the leaves out and spend the day on the walkabout. It's fascinating on a number of levels. We're introduced to the flora and fauna and its medicinal values. We do spend time at a sacred site and learn about the cave paintings. Evan also takes us a wild tangent on the evils of cell phones, microwaves and the puppets in the Australian government. He is a good representation of worlds of thought colliding. He lives and breathes the knowledge and understanding of an ancient culture and yet exists in the modern world. I don't know if he's right or wrong, but I do love hearing the beliefs that are so contrarian to my everyday life.
At the same time, the kids have lost interest and are falling asleep on a rock. Evan pulls himself back on track and the afternoon moves quickly. The kids are especially fascinated by Aboriginal thoughts on approaching adulthood. Kai is also curious about the cave drawing of the man with a giant penis. It spawns hours of speculation later in the car.
Mia asks about the fairness behind aboriginal men taking multiple wives. She also probes as to why the women had to go live with the husband's family in another clan, rather than remaining close to her own family. Evan moves delicately through his answers, but I'm with Mia. It raises more questions than answers.
At one point, we are asked to participate in a traditional dance, while Evan beats sticks against a piece of wood. We all bounce around, but Kai is distracted. At the end of the day, when we go over the highlights as a family, Kai calls forward that moment. While we were all dancing, Kai was watching a leech wiggle it's way up Evan's shoe and sock. That explains Kai's vigilance and refusal to sit on the ground all day.
Five minutes before the end of the hike Evan stops us. He is saying his good-bye and requests permission to leave us so he can sprint the last five minutes of the hike. It's the oddest thing. Our guide literally said good bye before the end of the tour and sprinted away. Rob and I stare at each other, dumbfounded. Then, with the kids, we figure, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. We chase after him, sprinting the last few hundred yards of the walkabout and end on a victorious note.
I need to remember that on these long trips, Day Two is always the toughest. The excitement and adrenaline of the first day have worn off and jetlag is hovering at the edges, waiting for the first glimpse of fatigue to come roaring in.
For our second (and last) full day in Sydney, we decided to take the public bus out to Bondi Beach. Ever ambitious, there is a beautiful 2-3 mile cliff walk that stretches from Bondi to Coogee beach that we intended to conquer (or maybe just me. Rob tends to be far more practical about these things). As a side note, I do think it's a brilliant idea to take some form of public transportation while you are in a foreign city at least once. Even if it's not a great experience, it will make for a good story later. Our bus ride was relatively uneventful, but we got to pass through a lot of neighorhoods, parks and by beauiful churches that don't hit any Lonely Planet Guide.
We arrive at Bondi Beach and it's gorgeous. Lots of colorful characters and lots of tourists, like us. We plop down on the warm sand and survey all the people who are frolicking happily in the waves. As the water in San Diego never truly gets warm, we are skeptical of people in swimsuits who don't look like they are freezing. Finally, curiousity takes hold and we are all four in the water, splashing and body surfing. It is already one of my favorite moments of the trip.
Eventually, we get hungry. We make our way to lunch and I am still filled the fantasy of a family walk together. With much resistance, I coax the family into meandering to the first lookout. Shortly into the walk, things are devolve quickly as jetlag has turned my kids into these strange, unfamiliar forces of negativity. Simultaneously, Rob and I experience a sudden and unexpected loss of patience. The 500 yard walk to the cliff is like a landmine of petty arguments. It is a strange mixture of incredible landscape and scenic beauty agains a foreground of a family of buttheads. We capture the beauty and the moment and trek back to the bus-stop, where gratefully the bus arrives without a wait.
Back at the hotel, everyone diappears into a comfortable silence for the rest of the evening.
The bus
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