Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Christchurch: First impressions of New Zealand

We arrived in Christchurch late Tuesday night (bc of our proximity to the international dateline, I will specify that I am writing at around 5pm on Thursday). In contrast with the flight, our trip through customs and immigration was frustrating. They have very strict quarantine precautions to protect the secluded country from outside interference. Their immigration, too, seemed oddly tense. Maybe there is some underground mass movement to infiltrate NZ to steal their Kiwi birds and sheep (which, by the way, outnumber people here by 10 to 1). What bothered my most (I even found myself talking back to an immigration officer, a real traveler's no-no), was not necessarily the strict policies or precautions but the way that the officials treated us, implying that there was something wrong with us for not understanding their procedures (or need to pry into our lives).

Thankfully, our unpleasant encounters with Kiwis seem to have ended at the airport. So far, I've found them friendly and helpful. They are excited to talk about their country but are not arrogant about it. Actually much like Canadians, they seem realistic about its strengths and weaknesses and proud even of its existence. In comparison with what I found to be a slight arrogance in the Aussies, the demeanour of the Kiwis is a welcome change.

Christchurch is really lovely. It is a small city - a population of only 400,000 - and clearly heavily influenced by its British heritage. It is clean and relatively well laid out. It has lots of open public spaces and gardens, including the huge botanical gardens. However, quite simply: it's boring. We covered the downtown core in a morning and have since been searching for things to do.

Tonight we meet with our tour director and co-tourers. We are so hoping that they are not all retirees or at least that our tour director is youngish. But if not, we will as always make the best of it. The tour leaves Christchurch tomorrow morning, heading for Fox Glacier. The next 17 days will be exciting!

Monday, March 24, 2008

Surf camp and Port Macquarie

First, my apologies for the prolonged absence. The last few weeks have provided little in the way of internet access (or electricity at times). We spent five days at surf camp (Mojo Surf, to be precise) and four days in Port Macquarie, on the east coast of Australia between Sydney and Brisbane.

I do not have much time (I am realizing that this style of traveling doesn't leave much time for prolonged reflection or writing - particularly with the concern of not boring a travel companion), but I will write a bit on each of the last two legs.

First, photos:
Pics from Adelaide:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2136152&l=c8a49&id=1032

Pics from surf camp and Port:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2137523&l=221f5&id=1032

Ok, so now onto some brief reflections on the last two sections of our stay in Australia. Surf camp was interesting. Perhaps it was the purest form of backpacking/roughing it we've done (and will do). The bus picked us up in Sydney (us being Megan and me and 48 of our new closest (or most annoying) friends). Six hours and one surf video later, our coach b us pulled into the surf camp - a true surf shack in the bus a relatively short walk from the beach. No privacy (no real walls to speak of), certainly no electrical outlets, co-ed rooms (shared of course with the bugs), and beds that were tiny mattresses on milk crates. Oh and of course the bathroom (aka the shower block) was a fair ways away and had recently been vacated by a huge python that had temporarily made it its home.

After two days there, we took another long bus ride up to the second location. This time we were at a trailer park right on the water. Drawing the short straw, Meg and I shared a triple bunk (see photo) with another girl in the hallway leading to the trip's sole couple's room. With squeaky beds and being the one who moves a lot during the night, I got the bottom (aka the floor). I didn't sleep very well, but I did get sweet pictures of the sunrise.

The instructors were certainly nice and friendly (particularly toward the many young women among us) and helpful in the waves. They were, however, an unflattering example of what surf culture is like. Some people embraced it, even loved it, encouraged to enjoy toilet humour and party all night. Megan and I didn't take to it quite as freely. I feel as though I got that kind of lifestyle out of my system a fair while ago and have since moved beyond it. Or maybe I'm just too uptight.

Either way, the surfing was great. The beach was amazing and almost completely our own. I managed to ride most of the waves I attempted and was even starting to turn by the end. My poor, blistered hands didn't love it quite as much.

Much in need of some tlc, at the end of the week, we boarded a greyhound after catching it by the side of the road in a tiny town called Woolgoolga and went back south to Port Macquarie. Alex and his brother Philip picked us up there. After the week we'd had, it was unbelievably nice to be in the comfort of a real home with clean beds and friendly faces. Even home cooked meals! For practicality, we were staying down the street with Alex's uncle and aunt (er, uncle's girlfriend) who were incredibly friendly and helpful (the Easter bunny even found us there!). We hung out a lot at Alex's though, enjoying real Aussie meals. They truly live differently - much more outside, much less focused on comfort and luxury, and certainly much less concerned about bugs.

The winery was only a couple of minutes away. An amazing facility right on the highway with a wonderful restaurant and huge cellar door. They have quite an extensive tasting list and trust me, when you're with the owner's sons, you get good treatment.

We went jet skiing in the Pacific, toured the winery, did an extensive tasting, partied during a night out, enjoyed the beach, and even tried body boarding. At this, I realized that in 2008, I have used a snowboard, sandboard, surfboard, and bodyboard. Perhaps now all I need to try is a wakeboard and skateboard. Never really saw myself as a boarder...

We leave this evening to head to New Zealand. Three weeks down, three weeks to go. We are wildly excited for what promises to be a very different and beautiful country.

Au revoir, Australia.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Wine Tasting in the Barossa

The close of our time in Adelaide was actually spent in its environs - the nearby wine region of the Barossa Valley, one of Australia's premier wine-making regions. Best-known perhaps as the home of Wolfblass, Penfolds, Jacobs Creek, and Yalumba (Yellow Tail), Barossa is the third wine-making region I have visited this year (Bordeaux and Napa being the previous two), and it proved to be as different from them as they are from each other.

Suffering an incredible heat wave (15 days in a row over 35oC, over 40oC while we were there) and moderate, but long-lasting drought, the whole region was like a desert. Dry, yellow grass covered fields along dusty roads. Thin, thirsty animals grazed some of the fields. The vines, clearly watered, ranged from lush and green - the technical term being vigorous - to sad and suffering. The towns were small and mostly quiet. They seemed to be simple country towns.

There were lots of wineries. So many. Some huge - like Jacobs Creek, the vineyards of which seemed to be everywhere, labelled with large, commercial signs - and some tiny. We did lots of tastings. One that was set up by my wine-business brother, Scott, was at Grant Burge. We got great treatment and tried almost their whole list of potential wines, including some fortifieds. We checked out Wolfblass and Yalumba (where Yellow Tail is made) but bypassed Penfolds. Yaldara actually gave us a semi-cool tour of their cellar. Busy with vintage (the period during which the grapes get picked, pressed, and fermented), most of the wineries were too preoccupied to give tours. Or too self-important.

Traveling with my old travel companion, Alex, Megan and I got to learn so much more about wines. We talked and talked and talked. Well, actually, we mostly asked questions and let Alex do the talking and explaining. And I think we actually got better service at the tastings because the people there could clearly see how much Alex knows about their trade. One place even offered him a job.

A few newly-discovered likes: Semillon-Sauvignon Blanc, Tempranillo (a spanish red), unwooded chardonnay, Shiraz-Viognier, limestone Shiraz, and frontignac (a sweet white grape that can be made either as a table wine or as a dessert wine).

Now we're back in Sydney for one night, hoping to get a good night's sleep before our full five days of surf camp. Surf's up!

Thursday, March 13, 2008

An Adelaide Adventure

Short on time, I am going to write quickly, simply. I found Megan easily at Sydney airport and our flight to Adelaide was fine, somewhat in spite of and somewhat because of a gentleman sitting beside me, a flight attendant for another local carrier. Dear Alex kindly picked us up from the airport and took us to our hostel.

Thus the adventure commenced.

Our hostel, Annie's Place, was a disaster. Old. Dirty. Badly run. All this complimented by the full-size black and white model-style photographs of topless people - men and women - covering one entire wall of our room. Needless to say, we sprung into action to find a solution to our newly-formed housing crisis. We had to stay there that night as we had to pay for the room either way. We managed to find and book two spots on a two-day tour leaving the next day for Kangaroo Island, a large island off the coast near Adelaide that has become known for its plethora of wildlife.

The KI tour was amazing. Leaving our luggage with Alex and carrying only what our small backpacks could carry, we caught the bus at 6:30am. We saw some of the most beautiful beaches I have ever seen - made particularly special by the fact that few people have ever set foot on them. We saw tons of koalas, kangaroos, and wallabies. We sat on a beach and were examined by sea lions, including one particularly inquisitive cub. We saw New Zealand fur seals. We witnessed the hectic feeding of some Australian pelicans. And we went sand boarding (think snowboarding on sand but with no boots or bindings, more like a skateboard). Our all-purpose tour guide/driver/chef/expert-on-all-things-KI was great. Not only did this tour solve our accommodation problem, but it was exciting, interesting, and provided experiences I certainly have no expectation of getting any other way.

We crashed on Alex's dorm room floor last night (which left no additional floor space in his sizable-for-one-person room). Today we hit up Glenelg beach in the 43oC Adelaide heat. Now the three of us (Megan and I and Alex as our resident wine expert) are heading out to the Barossa Valley for two days to tour vineyards and sample wines. We certainly had a bit of an adventure, but we've still had fun and seen a lot. Making the best of things!

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Reflections on a first stop

So, first, pictures! Here are the Sydney pics:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2135123&l=94f8c&id=1032

Now, a few reflections on Sydney itself. Maybe it's just the beautiful sunshine I've had while here... but Syndey seems like a shining city to me. It seems so clean. In many ways, it reminds me of home - like another Toronto or Vancouver (actually more Vancouver because of its glassy, modern skyscrapers). Many cultures all coexisting in a clean, modern, safe city. The public transit seems reliable and useful. The parks are clean and many. The waterfront beautiful. It has older sections (though old here means Victorian) and newer ones. It has pedestrian thoroughfares. It has a distinctive (and large) Asian population and area. Oh, and it also has homeless people (one of whom I think I saw peeing into a coke bottle on the sidewalk today. I didn't stop to ask him why).

I have relfected also on how I reacted to getting here and being here. Though perhaps it was not entirely obvious, I suffered greatly from jetlag. I am still adjusting to the time change, and I am only now getting any semblance of an appetite back. I found myself fatigued and disoriented, no more sure of where I was than what day it was (what day IS IT??). So that part was tougher than I anticipated. In the past I have shrugged off this thing people refer to as "jetlag."

I was also homesick. Yes, I know most people would have been bursting with excitement at the chance to visit Sydney. But simple, routine-oriented, comfort-seeking me sort of just wanted to go home. Home to my bed, home to my parents, home to my friends and the life that makes sense to me. But that, like the jetlag, is fading. I am adjusting, accepting. I wanted this year to be a challenge; I wanted my five days alone in Sydney to be a challenge. I got my wish and I think learned and grew from it.

I have enjoyed my time in Sydney and its environs. But I am done. Ready for my next stop. Tomorrow, Megan arrives and we fly to Adelaide. Good bye, Sydney; I hardly knew ye.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

A lot of Sydney and a lot of thoughts

Today I walked. And walked. And walked and walked and walked. After a morning that is becoming startlingly routine, I set out from my hostel at around 9am. I walked through a very quiet Saturday-morning downtown to the old Sydney Observatory, a building as typically Victorian as so many are here. From there I walked through an older part of Sydney set in the shadow of the imposing Harbour Bridge, through a weekend market, and along the waterfront where tourists scurried around trying to find the right ferry to get them to wherever. I took my time exploring the Opera House. It is a strange building in a strange location, set apart from the rest of the city. The most notable aspect not otherwise appreciable in pictures is the quality of the exterior - the white is not solid but much more like the scales of a fish.

Anyhow, from there I continued along the waterfront through Sydney's immense Royal Botanical Gardens, acres and acres of prime, downtown, waterfront land set aside to preserve the natural beauty of the land. And what beauty it has. Trees and flowers and birds of kinds I've never before seen. And it was such a beautiful day.

After winding my way through the gardens, I walked through Hyde Park and what turned out to be some sort of feminist gathering (including some people who were apparently pushing for rights for sex workers with the slogan "Give 'piece' a chance"). Though tired, I pushed myself further, walking what turned out to be quite far to Kings Cross. Finding a seedy and busy area, I peaked around a bit and got out of there. I'll tell you, by the end of it I was exhausted. I finally got back to my hostel, put my feet up in a tiny bit of sun I found, and read.

I reflected a lot in my wanderings. It is natural to think about the city around me. First of all, I've come to believe that buildings here fall into one of three categories: Victorian, art deco, or utterly modern (typically glass skyscrapers). Other than the fact that Australia was founded and came of age under Queen Victoria, I have no good theories for why this type of pattern exists. I have also found that Sydney seems to have a wonderful waterfront. Someone deserves some credit for that (particularly from the perspective of the disappointing but full-of-potential waterfront in Toronto).

I have also been pondering something else today. I asked my one-day friend Emily yesterday which flags she'd seen displayed on people's bags. In her month of traveling and my few days, we both agreed that we had only seen Canadian flags on bags. It seems that no other nationalities choose to display their flag so proudly. I've seen a fair number of good ol' maple leafs. Despite the prevalence of Brits, I haven't seen any Union Jacks. No Stars and Stripes either. The reason I find this interesting is because as Canadians we often chide ourselves for not being sufficiently patriotic, certainly not as jingoistic and flag-waving as our southern neighbours. But maybe our self-criticism is misguided. Maybe we aren't that patriotic at home. Maybe we don't feel that we need to be. But I have yet to meet a Canadian abroad who isn't proud of being Canadian . There are even some Americans who put Canadian flags on their bags when they travel. We must have something pretty amazing if we're comfortable enough with our country at home simply to live in it while displaying our flag proudly when we're elsewhere. At least, that's my hope.

Friday, March 7, 2008

A walk and a one-day friend

Today I went with a guide from the hostel and a group of fellow hostelers on a walk from Coogee Beach to Bondi Beach. It was about 6 miles or so but took us about 2.5 hours because of much stopping along the way. It is a seaside walk that is mostly along cliffs and beaches. Each little cove seemed to have its own little beach. And of course each beach had its own locals, its own scene. Oh, and its own "Surf Life Savers Club." Very cute.

It was stunningly beautiful (though it was cloudy). The ocean here seems so much bluer than at home. Some places a deep, dark blue, and in others more of a light aquamarine. It crashes up on the rocks with such force. It reminded me a lot of a brief drive I took along California Route 1 some time ago.

In contrast to the blue of the water, the plants are so so green and the flowers so bright. It seems at times like it must be a tropical paradise. It certainly isn't reminsicent of the water-starved, desert-like outback that most of us picture as Australia (and is, in reality, about 80% of the continent).

I walked with Emily. I noticed that she was alone as we were leaving the hostel so I struck up a conversation. With great conversation, we stayed together the whole day. She is from California and after graduating from nursing she enlisted in the Navy. Among her years as an officer, she served in Iraq as a trauma nurse for six months. Now that she has been decomissioned (though remains in the reserves) she is taking six months and traveling from NZ (where she already spent a month), through Australia, Asia, and finally Europe. She was smart and thoughtful. What an interesting walking mate. It was so nice to have someone to talk to. She leaves to travel up the east coast tomorrow. So at the end of our day, I said good bye forever to my one-day friend.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

The lone traveler (part 2)

Back in November, I wrote from Paris about being a lone traveler. I mused about the various positives and negatives of being in a foreign place on your own. Some of those remain true here in Sydney, but as it's quite a different place from Paris, there are other aspects.

I think the most pointed for me is just the fact that Sydney feels so much farther away than Paris ever did. Perhaps it is being in the Southern Hemisphere. Perhaps it is the extreme time difference. Or perhaps it is simply that Sydney is a helluva lot farther from Toronto than Paris is. So because I feel so much farther away, I feel that much more alone.

That being said, Sydney seems much more like home than Paris did. For one, it's English speaking. Also, the whole feeling of the city is much more North American than European (although I would argue that there is a huge Asian influence here, for obvious reasons). It is clean and seems relatively safe, though I admit that's a hard thing to grasp on a cursory glance.

I found some practical drawbacks of being on my own yesterday. I took the ferry from Sydney harbour to Manly Beach. It was a beautiful trip and I think I got some great pictures (although I am appreciating how much extra weight my kickass camera adds to my bag). The beach was stunning... the sand is much redder than I've ever seen, and the water bluer. I rented a beach chair and got comfortable. Around two hours in when I yearned for a dip in the ocean, I couldn't... couldn't leave the chair, couldn't leave my stuff. When I would've liked a trip to the washroom, nope. No food either. I sat there for four hours until I felt that I had had enough of lying in the sun. Then returned the chair, gathered up all my stuff, and went about my business.

Another drawback: sunscreen. There is an area of my back I seem to be unable to put sunscreen on. So, of course, it got searingly burnt. The contortions I did this morning to attempt to protect it would have made great comedy.

So, anyhow on some practical levels, it would've been really nice to have had a partner in crime. And I suppose on interpersonal, psychological levels as well. Always nice to share experiences with someone. But Megan will be here soon and our co-adventure will begin!

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

A first day... or days...

So I don't know what day it is. It could be Monday because I haven't actually gone to bed since Sunday night. It could be Tuesday because I know that my plane left Monday night and flew overnight into the morning sunrise. But then apparently it's actually Wednesday.

The flight is so long. Unbelievably long. And quite disorienting. You do in fact fly overnight into the morning sun... but you also cross the international dateline so what seems like one night has actually caused two days to pass, not one. But fear not, you get that lost day back when you fly home.

However, I was in a brand new Boeing 777 plane and even for Air Canada, it was lovely. Even the lighting was cool. Although I have to admit that walking through the first class cabin on your way into and out of the plane does put economy seating into stark perspective.

I arrived at my hostel around noon. It's big and bustling. People coming and going. All young. All packbackers. Some who look like they came and just never left. My room is nice, bare, but nice. Clean and spacious enough.

Instead of succumbing to my exhaustion, I decided that noon was far too early to go to bed so I headed out. Thoroughly enjoying the 24oC and sunshine, I explored Darling Harbour. This really is a beautiful city. It sort of reminds me of Vancouver, perhaps with a bit of Sarasota thrown in.

The highlight of the day was definitely the Aquarium. It had been one of the top things on my must-see list and as it was right there I just went right on in. They really did a great job of setting it up and there was one particular aquarium (er, oceanarium, they called it) that took my breath away. You walked through tubes that went through the water while sharks, manta rays, eels, turtles, and fish swam over and around you. I just sat and watched them for a while.

Now I'm back at the hostel. It's 6:40pm on Wednesday. I haven't had a real meal since Monday. I haven't had a real sleep since Sunday night. I think I'm just running on adrenaline. I'm sure it's obvious in my writing (apologies)...

Adieu for now from this slightly lonely, totally disoriented, Canuck in Sydney.

Monday, March 3, 2008

Another adventure!

I am off again on another adventure. In a few hours, I will board a plane. 21.5 hours, 9 time zones, and one international dateline later, I will arrive in Sydney. It should be noted, by the way, that I am going from Toronto where the temperature in the last week dipped down to -25oC to a place where it is forecast to be 25oC and sunny when I arrive.

I am going to be spending five days on my own in Sydney, exploring the city and likely the surrounding beaches. Then, Megan (a girl friend from high school) arrives and we head to Adelaide to see some of Australia's wine country. Then a surf camp, a stop in Byron Bay, and a few days in Brisbane. Three weeks total in Australia.

On March 25th, we fly from Brisbane to Christchurch, New Zealand. After a couple of days to get settled there, we are meeting up with a tour that will take us all through NZ's rugged terrain. Hiking the fox glacier, exploring caves, enjoying the beaches, everything. Three weeks later, we end up in Auckland, where our trip will draw to a close.

I am excited and nervous. Six weeks without more than five days in any one place is going to be whirlwind! But adventures are supposed to come with some risk and I know that this one will bring huge rewards!

Saturday, March 1, 2008

California

I have spent much of this winter in California. No, not rubbing elbows with the stars or making millions in Silicon Valley or even enjoying the beautiful California sun on southern beaches - although those are certainly things one can do (or attempt to do) in America's most populous state. That's the thing about California, it is big and plentiful. It is an incredibly diverse place. Beaches, mountains, deserts, valleys, swamps, cliffs... You can drive for an hour, descending 6000 feet, from a blizzard-like snow storm in Alpine terrain to palm trees in a picturesque valley.

My experience of California this winter certainly has not encompassed the whole state but I have seen quite a bit. I have come to appreciate quite fully the immensity of the Sierra Nevadas. They rise from below sea level to over 9000 feet, jagged and challenging. The skiing there is technical and interesting. The lakes and forests and largely untouched and you can truly be alone in the wilderness.

We took a trip down to Yosemite National Park. We had to drive down into the foothills and fairly far south and then back up into the mountains. Gold rush country. Though quite near urban areas, there are towns there that are tiny, sleepy little places, busy only because a state highway runs through the town center. Between these dusty crossings, you find one of three things: rugged and seemingly untouched terrain, farms, or multi-million dollar homes.

Yosemite was one of the most amazing natural scenes I've seen. Yosemite Valley is an enormous valley carved by ancient glaciers. The rock formations are like out of a fantasy world. As you drive through, you pass boulders larger than houses that must have fallen in some past quake or rock slide. You pray you aren't there to witness one. You stand at the base of El Capitan, a 3000ft monolithic cliff face, and you understand exactly what 'small' means. These formations, trees, waterfalls, and boulders have been around longer than we have and will be around for much, much longer still. That too makes you feel small, a small blip in the history of the world.

Maybe all of California makes you feel small, with it's variety and magnitude. But I think feeling small is a sort of challenge. It's a challenge to prove that though you may be small, you can lead a big life.