True Southern Hospitality

I'm not talking about your sweetened iced tea and fried okra hospitality. No, I'm mean the Australian variety. Now that I'm a bit less knackered, and a bit more rested, its high time to thank my hosts. Tane and Lee have graciously allowed me into their home despite my travel stench. Of course a generous bribe of Reese's Pieces & maple syrup may have help persuade them. Either way, I can not stress how superb it is, after 30 hours, long customs lines, layovers, and screaming infants, to be welcomed with open arms and an spare bed for as long as I want.

Day 2:

Brisbane

Last night's sleep was regrettably fitful- punctuated by vivid nightmares and several loud intrusions of possums on the roof above my room and Milo (the dog) chasing the ones foolish enough to wander through the back yard. Somehow I still managed to be out of bed by 6 AM, a feat I haven't accomplished back home for the past year.

The excitement for today began with a short hike to White Rock conservation area (pictures to follow, techno volente). It was a day of many firsts for me: my first Aussie hike, my first guanna lizard, my first wallaby, and my first box of Tim Tams (as a self reward for a job well done)- the chocolate covered, chocolate-creme filled, chocolate wafer. I highly recommend everyone try them, but don't bother to share evenly, they only come in boxes of 11.

I still had trouble getting the bike all prim and proper, so I decided to take a short ride to the local bike shop to see if they could sort out the problem that I couldn't solve after 3 hours of tinkering. I certainly took the opportunity to make a grand entrance into the bike shop. Have you ever pushed on a door that you expect to have a bit more resistance than it actually does? As soon as you push on it you know. All you can do is watch it, and hope that somewhere there's a doorstop. Bike in one hand, helmet in the other, I watched the door swing into the baskets of knick-knacks along the glass wall. Not really the best approach for someone wanting free service. And closing the door slowly and cautiously in no way lessens the social fau pax, but I did it anyway. To top it off, once on the stand there was absolutely nothing wrong with my bike, and the mechanic talked to me in the patronizing tone usual reserved for backwoods gas station attendants. I felt I should at least buy some new tubes, which I did, but they seem to be the wrong size. Anyone want some bike tubes?

Far, far away

Of course, the obligatory "why start a blog".

Contrary to unpopular belief, its not a great way to meet "chicks". It is, instead, a fantastic way for me to spend the my first day in Australia, sitting indoors, at a computer, bone-tired, and hacking away at a keyboard. A lot of things seem like a good idea 40 hours, and 15000 km from home. Sleep is one of them, though at 2:30 in the afternoon on an incredible sunny warm day it just seems like a waste. Surely a blog is a better waste of my time, and yours now too having read at least this far.

The plan is to keep folks updated on a fairly regular basis without having to send out mass emails, which eventually only a few read and to which even fewer respond. Hopefully I'll be able to toss up a few pictures along the way as well.

Oh, and everyone else had one too.

Trip Update:

Brisbane Day 0.5

After having been here for 4 weary hours, I have one important fact to report. The stereotype of New Zealanders is completely true. On my last connection from Auckland to Brisbane, I was sharing the exit row (I needed the leg room) with a couple from the North Island. I was only conscious and talkative for the last 40 minutes of the flight, but that was plenty of time for what I would have considered "pleasantries". The Slaters were on holiday to the Sunshine coast, and planned on visiting with their son. Their daughter just won a DJ contest and is soon to be on her way to Seattle to learn from the pros. They have a enviable retirement plan to taking small groups of tourists hiking all over the hidden spots of New Zealand. We talked a little bit about my holiday plans- though truth be told, the only part of the plan was really getting to Australia, and then eventually to New Zealand. By the time we were deboarding, they had given me not only their number for when I was Auckland, but their son's home and cell number just in case. Kiwi's really are the most friendly people.


And now I will go attempt to piece together the rest of my bicycle. So far I have only succeeded in gouging a new triangle shape into my thumb, but that's ok, because chicks do dig scars.