Underwater Magic

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

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We are Landing Where?

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.

 

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Off the Grid

We are headed off the grid for a few days. We will be back on Monday with more posts.

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Show Your Underwear, Save a Dollar

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.

 

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Blue Mountains and Airbnb's Blue Maison

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.

 

Kai flirting with one of the "three sisters" the legend behind the beautiful rock formations

 

 

Rob enjoying happy hour from our home at Le Maison Blue

 

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Off the Beaten Path- our first Walkabout

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.

 

 

 

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Beaches, Buses, Bondi and Butt-lag

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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