A Day in the Life...

In an attempt to see the real Laos, we set out to Muang Ngoi. For most of the people in Laos, life is more about surviving than it is about cell phone ring tones. In fact, the majority of the population of Laos lives along the shores of the Mekong river, and this river is their life. It provides fish for them to eat, water for them to drink, cook with, or bathe in, and the only means by which to travel.

From Luang Prabang we set out north by bus for three hours. In Nong Kiew, we boarded a time machine in the form of yet another speed boat, and in one hours time we were transformed from modern civilization to life in it's simplest form. Along the way we noticed women cleverly bathing in the water so as not to reveal too much skin. Animals bravely roamed the steep hills which remained bare. And children populated the row boats, sometimes fishing but mostly just messing around.


Muang Ngoi is a village that has seen a recent invasion of backpackers. This has changed the dynamic of the place noticeably, as there are signs in English welcoming travelers to restaurants and guest houses. A couple of bucks a night can sustain life, and so tourists are welcomed with open arms, great big smiles, and a limited-but impressive English vocabulary.


In the morning we set out to explore the surrounding villages, which of course are within walking distance of each other. At 12:30pm we arrived in a small village called Banna. As usual, chickens roamed freely and the high puppy to adult dog ratio made us wonder...? A quick stroll through town revealed a party taking place on main street. As we cautiously approached the festivities, the music grew louder and a vaguely familiar aroma was detected. It smelled, sounded, and looked like any keg party that I've ever been to. The women danced (and I use this term loosely as they mostly just staggered around with their hands in the air) and the men knocked over tables which sent bottles crashing into the mud below. They all grinned at each other and were oblivious to our existence. These people were wasted, and why shouldn't they be, it was a Saturday!


Meanwhile, 45 minutes down the road it's business as usual. Actually, it seems more like this village had their party yesterday, and today is more of a recovery day. We once again approach cautiously, passing a family of free roaming pigs this time as we make our way through town. Our arrival is met with mixed reviews from the locals. Children excitedly scream, "Saibaidee" and gaze at us with interest at us, the exciting visitors. The adults do their best to ignore our presence, and we smile to try and communicate that we mean no harm.


As we exit town, the pre-teens that we just passed gave us the farewell I was expecting by throwing rocks at us. We walk along in silent amazement at what we just saw. The path has been widened here, quite obviously to make room for a new road which will connect this village to the outside world. It's pretty clear from the reception we received that there are mixed reviews about this road, but it seems the younger crowd won the vote.

Luang Prabang

Luang Prabang has got it all. Not one, but two glorious rivers. There are monks running around between the numerous Wats, and travelers enjoying international cuisine at it's finest. Look in any direction and you'll see some of the best preserved French architecture in the world (and that includes France). And if that wasn't enough, there is a mountain of Phousi right in the middle of town! It is truly a magical place, and according to UNESCO, the "best preserved city in Southeast Asia." And UNESCO doesn't mess around.


(The best of the many Wats we've seen)

We spent our days enjoying the numerous sights that lie within the city or just a quick tuk-tuk ride (see picture above) outside. We ate and drank to our hearts content and were always pleasantly surprised when the tab arrived. We treated ourselves to massages that we didn't need because they were too cheap to resist. We met new friends that we'll not quickly forget, including Caroline, Yefim, and Seymour...as well as Mister Ben, who gave us an insiders perspective on Laos.


(Coffee done right in Luang Prabang)

Ironically, UNESCO declaring Luang Prabang a world heritage site was like an announcement to the world to come and spoil it. The jewel of the Mekong is in decline, so see it while you can.


(View from the top of Mt. Phousi)

Uncomfortably Numb

The Mekong river serves as a natural border between Laos and Thailand. And in Laos, it is also the best highway (when there is water in it). And because our next destination, Luang Prabang, was just a couple of miles downstream, it was time to buy some boat tickets. Of course, we decided to skip the slow boat down the river g which took two full days, instead opting for the quickest form of transportation: the speed boat. It wasn't until after I purchased the tickets for the speed boat that I decided to read the chapter in our guide book which strongly discouraged this mode of travel, "simply put, it's unsafe." This warning began to ring true as we sat down in the speed boat and our driver tossed us life jackets (expected) and flimsy plastic helmets.

After the first three hour leg of our journey, we stopped for lunch. Getting out of the unstable boat proved especially difficult as our extremities (specifically our legs) had gone numb from the lack of leg room. Meanwhile, a short Laos man jumped up from his ample seat which allowed him to nearly lie down. And of course, when we finished lunch we noticed the man had returned to his seat where he was presently digesting. At that point I wished desperately for a crash in which he would be sent flying but leave us safely intact because we were quite literally packed like sardines.

So we spent the whole day flying through the Mekong at speeds nearing 30 MPH, seemingly fast forwarding the scenery of the tiny Laos villages along its banks. The combined discomfort of our numb legs and chill from the wind was enough to distract us from the fact that our lives were in jeopardy. The boat would noticeably shift whenever we encountered a small current in the water. The tiniest wave would send us flying and for a brief moment we would ask ourselves whether we would return to the water?...the answer was always painfully relieving as the boat crashed back down. We also realized that the bottles curiously floating in the water were tied to underwater hazards to provide some warning to the drivers...and peace of mind to the passengers?




(Press Play to see what I'm talking about)

At some point during the long afternoon we stopped to converse with some ladies along the shores near one of the tiny villages. After five minutes, one lady appeared holding a dear carcass, which brought a huge smile to everyone's face (except of course for ours). Our driver quickly wrapped the deer in a tarp and placed it directly on top of our backpacks. As I was pondering whether or not deer blood could seep through canvas, I realized that this would go down as one of the most memorable experiences of our trip...if we survived.

A Moment of Reflection

Brought to you by Lauren Hartz


As I sit here, drinking a cold Singha (the national beer of Thailand), looking out at the little street that lines our guesthouse; the sun is shining down on me through the bamboo plants along the table and I feel as calm as a meditating monk. As my mind flips through the photo albums of our trip, a smile is cast across my face and I know this is what I've been searching for.

The traveling life, or more directly the backpackers life isn't always easy. You're often faced with less than desirable surroundings, including: hard beds, cold showers, a smelly man snoring on your shoulder and invading every centimeter of your personal space (I'm not talking about Blake either), heavy backpacks, large bugs (filled with other peoples blood), and more body pains than an 80 year old man endures. But when faced with the choice of five-star hotels filled with rich, high class travelers or, interesting backpackers whom have been traveling for 6 months straight and have the craziest stories to tell you, my choice, hands down, is the latter.

I can't say I've enjoyed every second of this trip, but I can almost say I've enjoyed every day of it. It has been a gift to be able to take 4 months of my life, with Blake, and head to the places I've seen beautiful pictures of and heard jealousy invoking stories about.

At this point there is no clear favorite place, but it wouldn't be fair to make that decision before the trip is over. Actually, I don't think I could make it even if I wanted to. Every step of the journey has made the experience what it is, and although I may not revisit certain places, I would never change my decision to go there. I'm nothing short of ecstatic to continue our travels to Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia, and the experiences we've had thus far have only made us better, wiser travelers.

Traveling is something everyone should do. Many people have expressed their inner jealousy of our journey, but I hope that, if anything, we can be inspiring to others. I know it's not possible for everyone to quit their jobs and move all their stuff under their boyfriend's mom's house, but you have to find your own way. Up to this point in my life I've been nothing short of green with envy when I hear about other people's travels, but now I have my own stories to tell.

This is an amazing life, go out and find your place!

Chiang Mai

Welcome to Chiang Mai, a sanctuary for Thai people, and a magical place for tourists. Travel through the Night Bazaar; a land where Louis Viutton and Channel bags magically drop down to a price which ordinary people can actually afford, but are still overpriced. Browse it's small cobblestone streets and you may come accross an elephant, but beware of the slave driver who will demand money for every photo you take. We're not quite sure whether Chiang Mai is the greatest place on earth, or just infinitely better than Bangkok (where we had just come from). It's probably a little bit of both.

A Six Month Quest

Prior to departure on our journey, an anonymous tip was received for the acclaimed "best Thai restaurant in Bangkok". Keeping this tip in the back of our minds, and more literally carrying around a piece of paper with the name and location for 6 months, we decided it was time to head out and discover for ourselves what the fuss was all about.

In the 2 hours we searched for the restaurant we digested more of the thai culture than we did food upon arrival. We were harrassed by t-shirt sellers and encountered many smiling scam artists telling us "that restaurant closed, you come to this one". But with determination we continued our elusive hunt for the coveted restaurant of which I had been dreaming. After half a dozen attempts to ask for directions, we got our answer from a high hot dog vender in the local 7-11.

Alas we arrived to the holiest of shrines, in the form of a hole in the wall restaurant. The two disgusting dirty shitzus and chihuahua that drug it's butt across the floor to get some relief from the worms, could not deter us.

As we sat there, ice cold beer in hand, we knew we had not waited in vain. The surroundings were meager, but the food boasted a bold, spicy flavor we had yet to encounter on our trip so far. We relished in our choices for no more than 20 minutes, stuffing our faces faster than a monkey eats chocolate (see Halong Bay). After the tornado of eating finished, we looked at the table, wide eyed, at the mess we had made. We sat back, looked at each other, and with extreme pleasure in our hearts, smiled...we were in Thailand!



















The next day we returned to the famed restaurant, having yet another wonderful feast. We were leaving Bangkok, happily, and thus this was our last meal.

Bangkok-only good for sex tourists and shoppaholics!

Before arriving in Bangkok many people told me you either love it or hate it, plain and simple. Well, as we come to an end on our third day here, all I can think about is getting the hell out! Although Bangkok is known to have some of the most amazing temples and Buddha statues in the world, the feeling of peace and serenity are no where to be found among the honking horns and swindling street vendors. Amidst all the beauty spread throughout the city, you are constantly berated with scam artists, street vendors, and enough smog to liken your lungs to those of a 20 year smoker's.

Now, I don't want to be too hasty in my overt judgement of this powerhouse city, in our short time there we were able to experience some of the best it has to offer. It didn't even take one day before my senses were enticed and I found myself entranced by the best 2 1/2 hour massage of my life (sorry all- no happy ending to speak of here). In addition to this near nirvana experience, we have stuffed our stomachs with more Thai food than is healthy in such a short period of time.

But alas, we sit here on a bus heading out of town, north to Chiang Mai. We are nothing short of ecstatic to be getting out of the city and off to a place where the enlightenment can commence. After sitting through a grueling 2 hours of traffic just to get to the bus terminal, we are both in utter dismay as to why anyone would attempt to drive in such a permanently gridlocked city. Bangkok offers an above ground train, the acclaimed Sky Train, which can whisk you away to many popular areas around the city, but not actually into the heart itself. Aside from this, your other modes of transportation are cab (which goes back to the gridlock I mentioned above), the Thailand tuk-tuk, or huffing it on foot (which, to be honest, isn't a very doable option).

Don't let the afore mentioned issues put you off entirely, there is a great deal of culture to be seen and smelled lying inside the city walls. As you walk down the street your senses are constantly challenged by new, sometimes foul, smells. Foods you've never seen or imagined line the walls and hang off the carts, just waiting to be plucked up by a passing pedestrian. All the while, the most interesting noises are serenading your stroll and causing your head to turn in all directions. This adventure is often times interrupted by street vendors shoving everything from the latest Louis Vuitton knockoff bag to frog noise makers in your face. This is a city that survives on selling tourists everything they don't need and then sending them down the street with a smiling man who will scam you out of the last 50 baht left in your pocket (which equals about $1.25 US).


(This guy gladly leaves Thailand without a dime to his name, already planning his next trip back to see his "girlfriend")

Moving on up, to the Southeast side

We felt a bit like the Jefferson's when we exchanged our $10 Australian dollars (about enough for a decent sandwich), for the 300+ Bhat at the currency exchange in Thailand. We had essentially been transformed into millionaires overnight, while we flew from Brisbane to Bangkok on the 'smooth as silk' Thai Airways flight.

So no we face our last challenge, conquering the land where smoking still makes you cool, doorways are really just a place to bump your head, and public displays of affection are limited to hand-holding: Southeast Asia...should be fun.

On a side note, the Australia photos are up...Enjoy

Castaways on Mission Beach

On Thursday, we reluctantly left the Airlie Beach, a village where where I could live (at least during the non-stinger season, which is also less humid) to head up to Mission Beach, about 1.5 hours south of Cairns. On our drive , we passed multiple fruit stands, and even stopped for a photo of Lauren & Katchy licking a giant mango!



The trip was supposed to take 4.5 hours, but was closer to 6; Blake as the only authorized driver was wishing his mom had planned stopping in Townsville. As dusk fell, we descended from the main highway into Mission Beach. Hilarious crossing signs were posted, warning us to "beware of the endangered cassowary", a large bird portrayed confronting a vehicle. Blake noted that the description seemed similar to an ostrich - another wingless bird. It seems we were lucky not to encounter one, as they are apparently vicious and the size of humans!


Our room at The Castaways opened right onto beautiful Mission Beach, where a swim enclosure provided protection from the stinging "jellies". Nets are attached to inflated pontoons that rise and fall with the tides to prevent jellies from entering the enclosure. The next day, we decided to take the water taxi to Dunk Island (named by Capt'n Cook after another one of those British Lords). The Aboriginal name is Coonanglebah - "the Island of Peace & Plenty", a very appropriate title. A day-pass to the resort on Dunk Island included use of the butterfly pool, grounds, and wonderful seafood platters for lunch.


From the open-air lounge we watched as it rained 5 kilometers away on Mission Beach. We considered playing the British edition of Monopoly where the premier property is "Mayfair Place" and the cheapest is "Pall Mall". Later that afternoon we returned to Castaways, and barbecued on the beach. Our table was adorned by my multi-use beach towel, this time serving as a table cloth (it was freshly laundered). Dinner included steak, corn, salad and wine that we purchased at a convenient drive-through "Liquor King". Blake's IPOD provided background music as we watched the sun set towards the offshore islands though palm trees. We indulged in desserts at the restaurant, since we had forgotten to purchase chocolate bars!

Heading up to Cairns, our final destination in Australia, we were intrigued by Murdering Point Winery - just off the main road.



Sailors shipwrecked at King Reef succumbed to "massacre & murder by local tribes" - hence the name. The family-owned winery produces very interesting varietals made from native and exotic fruits such as lemon aspen, mango & black sapote. Our host recommended a stop at scenic Etty Bay where signs posted not only jelly warnings, but also crocodile dangers. It was advised that we swim in the netted enclosure - good advice!


We stopped at Flying Fish Point Cafe, a local favorite, for lunch, then on to Cairns.
Since it was our last night together, we decided to try "Cherry Blossom", a Japanese restaurant near our hotel, and reserved a tepinyaki table. Lauren told me we had to have saki bombs (good thing the hotel was close by) - the Aussies seated at our table enjoyed our demonstration! We also sampled kangaroo again.

I'm posting this from Shell Beach - just returned today! Thanks to Lauren & Blake for inviting me to share their fabulous trip and be a guest "blogger". Can't wait to hear all about Thailand, Cambodia - and wherever inspiration takes the backpackers.

~Katchy~

Found Nemo ~ and all his cousins

It's no secret that ever since I dived Palau, clown fish (like Nemo) have been my favorite. So, when Blake and Lauren invited me to join them to dive the Great Barrier Reef, I accepted excitedly. After a day recovering from jet lag in Brisbane, I met up with Blake and Lauren at Surfer's Paradise on the Gold Coast, and headed to Byron Bay. We made the best of a rain storm; since I hadn't planned for such weather, I purchased an "emergency poncho". On Saturday, we flew up to Mackay. We then drove to Airlie Beach - the gateway to the Barrier Reef, and enjoyed the glorious weather on the Sunshine Coast. Lauren and I got hooked on blueberry mojitos; I got the recipe from the bartender. Our adventure on the Kiana (which means "have a good day" in Inuit) started Monday morning, when we motored out to the Whitsunday Islands with 6 Czechs (one- Jana - spoke English), Team France -4 great people, and Team USA!

In the afternoon we anchored, went ashore and hiked to Lookout Point for an incredible vista, then sprinted down to Whitehaven Beach and the purest, finest sand we've ever seen. We were required to put on our stinger suits to protect us from the box jellyfish (invisible), and all we wanted to do was race out to the water. During our entire adventure, our scuba guide snapped photos, including an almost disastrous pyramid on the beach.

We spent the night at Hook Island, and feasted on what Lauren believed was steamed Wallaby (ok - I was gullible too). The steamer was an ingenious contraption of a converted keg, with layers of wire baskets of lamb and vegetables. Day two, a 7 a.m. the 4 certified divers (team USA - Blake, Lauren, Katchy, and David from team France) experienced their 1st dive in a beautiful cove. "Disco" Dave, our guide, asked what we wanted to see - I immediately shouted "clown fish!"; once on the dive he took me to a gorgeous pink anemone with matching clown fish. After the dive, we checked in with Brent, our skipper, who had alerted us to rough seas that might prohibit heading to the outer Barrier Reef. We all crossed our fingers, and he said - "If we can get you out there safely, we will". After an hour or so of motoring, Brent told me we'd passed the point of no return (a good thing), and we were on our way to the outer reef! We were underwater again before lunch, and this time our guide called me over to a a spot on the reef with 5 different species of clown fish (there are 43 in all)! He took pix of each of us behind a "Nemo" clown defending his anemone. We also saw a white tip reef shark (asleep), rays, turtles and incredible corals. The reef community consists of countless types of sea life that we had the privilege of experiencing. We became very comfortable in our stinger suits (and hoods); Brent said they made you feel invincible like superman. We made a 3rd dive that afternoon; that night we spent on the reef, and enjoyed a slide show of our adventures and antics on land and underwater.

Once again, on the last morning, Blake, Lauren and I were on a dive at 7 a.m. - this time at the "stepping stones" spot at and the visibility was incredible. We just enjoyed drifting from reef to reef watching the sealife. We relunctantly left the Great Barrier Reef and started our sail back to Hayman Island for lunch on the boat across from one of the most expensive resorts in the world. I was happy to be out on the the Kiana! The crew was fantastic, the food inventive and welcome for starving divers, and the experiences memorable. We had dinner with "team France" last night, shared email address with our new friends, and are driving to Mission Beach for snorkeling and the rain forests. Getting to the Great Barrier Reef is not easy, and I feel very lucky to have shared the experience with Blake and Lauren, and to have been a guest writer on their blog. Can't wait to read about the rest of their adventure! Kiana - have a wonderful day with "no worries". Katchy

Enter Awesome Person #3

That's right, Katchy joins the scene on the Beautiful (so we've heard) Gold Coast of Australia. This means we go from a pungent campervan, to bathrobes and wine in 4 star hotels. Not surprisingly, we welcome this change with open arms, and the even more exciting prospect of having another person to talk to. Of course, Katchy acts as our messenger from the real world, relaying to us everything we've missed (thank God) back home: Obama wins in Iowa, the writers are still on strike, and Keefer Sutherland faces jail time for his 18th DUI...further dooming the new season of 24.

But most importantly of all, the arrival of Katchy means that we are on our way to the infamous Great Barrier Reef. And because she made the grueling journey to Australia she has been granted the extreme honor of posting her story here (see next post). Welcome to the blog Lady, thanks for coming.

The Gold Coast, the Vegas of Australia

The Gold Coast was a let down in two ways. One, there are tons of people there...and two, there just happened to be tons of rain there. However, there were moments when the two magically disappeared at the same moment, prompting a, "Oh, so that's why they call it the Gold Coast" type of response.

We traveled to the charming Port Macquarie, Byron Bay (which was unfortunately subject to a three week thunderstorm), and Surfer's Paradise...which is now known simply as 'Surfers' because it in no way resembles paradise. Along the way, we stopped at various beaches and supermarket parking lots that were all extremely flattering.

(Lauren fixes lunch in the typical fashion)

(Port Marquarie's colorful harbor rocks)

The Time of (Our) Lives

New Years Eve is an elusive holiday. It often arrives quickly and unexpectedly, and then passes in the same manner. We all remember a handful of New Years', for one reason or another. However, most seem to be hazy, due in part to the excessive flow of champagne.

If you're in Australia, Sydney is the place to be...or not to be; this all depends on whether you 'fancy' massive crowds, streets that literally ooze-booze, and a fireworks show so elaborate they begin planning it 15 months in advance and have adopted the slogan "Time of Our Lives," the theme from Patrick Swayze's worst career move ever: Dirty Dancing. This line up certainly doesn't appeal to everyone, but I'm pretty sure Sydney swells to 3 times it's maximum capacity on New Years Eve, thanks in small part to the two of us.

New Years was a long day, as we ventured into the city from a train station at about 11am. The trip to the town center took about 45 minutes, and upon arrival we noticed people already preparing for the fireworks show...12 hours in advance!

Sydney's harbour is beautiful and extensive, and Circular Quay* is the launching point for dozens of fairies that will take you nearly everywhere in the city/harbour: Darling Harbour, Olympic Village, Russell Crowe's house, etc. Our destination that day was Manly Beach, where the NYE festivities were scheduled to begin. Unfortunately, the beach (water) was closed due to massive swells, (I thought that was the reason people went to the beach in Australia, it was certainly my motivation)...major bummer.

*pronounced Circular Kay - not to be confused with the convenience store Circle K

(Lauren attempts to blend in at 'Manly' Beach)

We made it back to town before sunset, only to notice the crowd has increased tenfold. Our hopes of finding a spot seemed to dwindle as we spent the day drinking champagne on the beach, and staring at refreshing water we couldn't even go in. Slightly buzzed, we wandered through crowded neighborhoods looking for a promising view of the Harbour Bridge, the center of the fireworks display. The search came to a sudden halt when we passed an excellent looking Italian eatery, and realized we had to have our last meal of 2007.

We met two Aussie girls in line, and with the hopes that we would get seated faster, we joined forces. For the rest of the night we accompanied these two on their shenanigans, and they outfitted us in glow sticks and supplied us with sparklers (why do people continue to buy these things?). We stumbled upon a group of rowdy folks from the UK and Ireland, who happened to have some prime real estate and boxed wine...and we all gave each other the are you thinking what I'm thinking? look. So we passed the remaining hours playing drinking games with our new friends, disappointingly lighting sparklers, and discussing politics (not really).

The countdown to midnight was interrupted by the, as promised, most amazing fireworks show on planet earth ever. A crowd of thousands sat with mouth agape as the show lasted for nearly 15 minutes. About five minutes in to the show, I noticed that we were seated in a river of alcohol flowing slowly down the street...which didn't seem to bother with me until about 2am on the zombie train back to our lonely campervan. After a brief, sobering nap in the train station parking lot, we headed back out on the open road, destined for the Gold Coast as we vaguely recounted yet another New Years Eve.

(The New Years Face)

On the Road Again

We rented a campervan and took it 2,000km from Melbourne, Australia to Brisbane (also in Australia). Along the way we ate ice cream at the beach on Christmas day in St. Kilda - Melbourne, saw: a swinging bridge in Sale, a sunken ship at Seven Mile Beach, campervan parks that resembled theme parks, & a gigantic concrete prawn (one of many larger than life sculptures in Australia paying homage to various fruit/fish), We went skydiving in Wollongong, feared flying foxes that haunted the botanical gardens in Sydney, went to a beach so 'Manly' that we couldn't even go swimming in the gnarly surf, ate lunch in numerous grocery store parking lots...kind of hobo-ish, got caught in a rip tide when we finally did go out in the water at Seal Beach, got into two (2) car accidents in one week (mostly because Australian women don't exactly know how to drive), endured a hurricane (basically) in Byron Bay, & never, not once, pet a koala. Here's a few more things I may have left out:

The Gentlemen's Game

The Glorious Melbourne Cricket Grounds (MCG)

Just as the Cowboys and Lions face off on Thanksgiving Day every year, the Australians meet the Indians (the real Indians) every Boxing Day, for a 5-day Cricket test match. Now if you need a definition of any of the terms in that first sentence, I can't blaim you, but I also can't really help you. I'm not quite sure what Boxing Day is, all I know is that it takes place on the first weekday following Christmas, so as to ensure a day off of work. For that, I take my cap off to you Australia; way to squeeze another holiday out of the "Holiday Season." And as far as Cricket, and 5-day test matches, I'm pretty much in the dark.

As we set off to the Melbourne Cricket Grounds for the first day of this match in our newly acquired campervan, I was hopeful that our attendance would shed some light on the game. After three hours of watching in bewilderment and the "lunch break" was announced, I was still optomistic that something might happen and shed some light on this mysterious game. Alas, another hour proved virtually uneventful and we made our way back to our back-alley parking spot, crossing our fingers that our campervan would still be there, and scratching our heads as we had left even more confused then when we arrived.

Civilized Chaos is the best description I can offer for the game of Cricket. Men in the whitest uniforms, wide brimmed hats, cover their lips and noses in zinc like it's a 1980's windsurfing competition before taking the field. Then, two members of the opposing team, distinguishable only by the fact that they are adorned in more armor than a medieval night, step up to bat. Then nothing happens for a few hours, and there's a lunch break. Then, more nothingness and there's a pee break. Then they call it a day. Repeat 4 times. At the end, the scores for each team near the thousands, and it's pretty obvious that one team had pretty much won by day two. Even Australians will admit the ridiculous of these 5 day test matches, but of course, they still attend. Because this is more of a national event than a sporting event...and on Boxing Day 2008, Lauren and I shared a watered down beer with nearly 80,000 Australians, listened to chants of "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie - Oye, Oye, Oye," and even partook in the "Mexican" Wave that swept through the massive stadium. No regrets there.

Christmas in Oz

Picture this... sunny beaches, volleyball in the hot sand, burgers flyin' off the BBQ, surfers dropping in on 12 foot waves, all the while, playing Christmas carols and opening tons of presents, which Santa delivered the night before all the way from America. This is exactly how I pictured my first Christmas in Australia, well lets just say I was close. After making the long pilgrimage from Buenos Aires to Sydney, nearly missing our connecting flight to Melbourne, we arrived to Cooee Hostel with only a minor crack in our smiley dispositions and nothing but the greatest intentions of heading straight for the nearest pillow. After awaking from a deep coma of sleep, we threw on our shorts and sandals and headed out the door to explore, only to be confronted with cold wind and, do I dare say it.....RAIN! Now, this is summer in Oz, a time where the people line the sandy white beaches with colorful terry cloth towels and bask in the sun until they start to physically see the skin cancer emerging, not the time for cold rain (I don't care how much of a drought they are having). The most ironic part of all this is just 2 days previous, before leaving BA, we sent all our warm clothing home, because who needs that stuff in Australia!

So on we went, baring the cold, to explore the beautiful city of Melbourne. As we walked around the city, there was a rushed, chaotic, almost animalistic vibe pumping through the veins of all the Australians around us, you know, the kind that takes over you and causes you to do things you never thought possible, like steal from a little old lady or push a child aside in order to get closer to the toy that is disappearing by the second. All because you were too lazy to start your Christmas shopping early and now, on the day before Christmas, you're feeling the heat.

Never the less, when you're an innocent bystander, this behavior is on par to watching Chimps run around in a locked cages (humm, maybe there's some connection).

Due to this overwhelming behavior and the continual rain, our exploration of the city was minimal. Outside of checking out the University and the famous Queen Victoria Market, we just cruised around and thanked god that we didn't have to do the Christmas thing this year.

Christmas Eve consisted of a hostel sponsored sausage feast (those of you who know me, know I never pass us the chance to have sausage), and a special visit from Santa's special helpers (6 drunken guys adorned in the oldest Santa suits I've ever seen). It looks like all Santa sent me this year was 2 "I Love Australia" Koala pins and some beautiful, flashing Christmas tree earrings. Before heading off to bed, we met some lovely English folks in the kitchen, one young man in particular sparked a hatred in Blake so strong, I literally had to remove him (Blake) before he blindsided the guy.

I awoke Christmas morning to the sweet sounds of "Merry Christmas Baby", by Ottis Redding playing on the iPod, and happily looked outside to see the sun shining. We had grand Christmas plans of touring the Royal Botanical Gardens (the best botanical gardens in Australia), followed by a hostel Christmas BBQ at the beach.




Our trip to the gardens proved to be trying at best, after meeting a drunk guy at the tram station (at 9am), who gave us faulty directions, we found ourselves traveling farther and farther away from where we wanted to be. This caused in unexpected hour detour, but alas we made it. We leisurely strolled around the grounds, taking in all the smells and beauty; there were families picnicking by the lagoon, children running around in the flowers, and birds chirping everywhere. All we needed was Julie Andrews to be singing from the hillside and it would have been the perfect day. We spent a few hours here, before deciding it was time to get out of this time warp and head to the beach where the beer would be flowing and the food would be flying.

I think I forgot to mention this, the best part of Christmas morning was walking downstairs, around 8am, only to see the same English bloke from the night before wandering around completely out of his mind, in the old, dirty santa suit.

Now, back to the story. The BBQ started around 1; as the train of people, some majorly hungover, some still drunk, paraded down to the beach, the realization that is was Christmas started to set in. I realized that outside of last Christmas, when I spent the morning working, this was the first time I've never been with my family on this special day. The tears started to well up a little, but then I remembered that I was in Australia and could spend Christmas with them next year...no offense. So we continued on our merry way, set up our chairs and towels on the grass, and started chowing down. The buffet train consisted of ham, chicken (turkey is really expensive in Oz), potato salad, salad, and other yummy snacks. We topped off the feast with none other than my favorite, a chocolate dipped ice cream cone from the traveling ice cream man. I sat in the sun, talking to our new Canadian friend, watching Blake play soccer for the first time in months, and drinking boxed wine for about 4 hours. Definitely a Christmas to remember.




The day ended with Blake and I lounging around the hostel and reflecting on how lucky we have been to be able to go on this amazing journey.

We hope all our friends and family had a great Christmas with their loved ones, we miss you all.