25 and Under...and 23...and 22

Movie Time: McKenzie Falls

dazey311 — Thu, 7 Feb 2008 00:30:00 GMT

Movie Time: Crystal and Jeff

dazey311 — Thu, 7 Feb 2008 00:30:00 GMT

Movie Time: Danger, no jumping!

dazey311 — Thu, 7 Feb 2008 00:29:00 GMT

Movie Time: 1850s Bowling

dazey311 — Thu, 7 Feb 2008 00:28:00 GMT

Movie Time: Koalas in Great Otway National Park

dazey311 — Thu, 7 Feb 2008 00:27:00 GMT

Movie Time: The National Anthem on Squeaky Beach

dazey311 — Thu, 7 Feb 2008 00:26:00 GMT

Movie Time: Sandboarding 101

dazey311 — Wed, 6 Feb 2008 13:16:00 GMT

Our tasty, cheesey, winey, chocolatey end

dazey311 — Wed, 6 Feb 2008 00:49:00 GMT

Day 29

It’s still raining on Day 29 and I have a sneaking suspicion it will be until I drop Nomalita off at Traveller’s Autobarn.

It doesn’t matter today though — we’re going winetasting.

Daniel goes for a swim and a sauna in the morning while I get my fill of morning cartoons (Futurama, love it). At 11 a.m. the Wine Rover bus picks us up in front of the YHA and we’re off to our first (and only) Hunter Valley olive tasting. As we walk in The Hunter Olive Centre, the aroma of olive oil pleases and overwhelms. We’ve joined the group late, so we pull off a bit of a speed-tasting, grabbing bread and oils as fast as we can. I could have stayed for an hour at least, but in five minutes I decide I love the chilli olive oil and make a purchase. This might (uh, will) be an expensive day.

Our next stop is the Rosemount Winery. Rosemount is a premiere Australian winery; they export all over the world, mostly based on the strength of their chardonnay. We were ushered into a gorgeous tasting room to sample a selection of whites and reds only available at the cellar. I’ve got a thing for wine, probably because of my dad, who gave me sips of his reds from as far back as I can remember. I like the drys — the sauvignon blanc and the shiraz — you can have your merlot and chardonnay. My favorite Rosemount was the Diamond Pinot Grigio and the girlie, sweet and sparkling Moscato, appropriately named Juliet. Boys, if you ever need a gift…

Soon enough, we hopped on the Rover once again and arrived at the Golden Grape for our first and only liquor tasting. The Golden Grape is home of Dragon’s Breath Chilli Schnapps, the spiciest liquor I’ve ever had. As the others choked and grabbed for water after our shot, I smiled — I love spicy food and it was delicious. We also tried Butterscotch Schnapps, essentially candy in liquor form. I bought (another) few gifts, of course.

Lunchtime brought us to the Hunter Valley Gardens; in other words, a well-manicured outdoor shopping center. We snacked on fudge and spinach rolls until our first afternoon wine tasting at Kevin Sobels wines. I tried almost all 14 wines at Sobels, but unfortunately my stomach was beginning to turn. There’s only so much I can take after spinach rolls, fudge, liquor and wine. But I wouldn’t give up — the next stop was the Hunter Valley Smelly Cheese Shop, and you better believe I’d buck up to eat some cheese. I’m happy to say I found bliss in the pesto feta spread.

Our last tasting of the day brought us to my favorite cellar of the day, Mistletoe. They were the boutique belle of the valley; last year Sydney’s leading wine critic gave the winery stellar reviews. I bought the 94/100 rated reserve Shiraz for my birthday in March — and relished the thought that I’d be drinking it a world away in Texas.

Exhausted (me and my wallet) we jumped off the Wine Rover back at the YHA and promptly passed out until dinner.

Our last full day on the road…tomorrow it would be back to Sydney, back to craziness, back to life.

Day 30

Try to picture it: the birds are chirping, the distant buzz of a lawnmower hums from a mile away, a slight breeze flutters the plastic bread bag on the table in front of me and all I can see for miles is green, sunny vineyards.

Yes, the sun has decided to shine on our last day with Nomalita. I’m reluctant to leave the Hunter Valley, especially now that it’s looking like this. I can’t imagine a more peaceful setting. Even at the beach, the waves are always crashing; threatening you with their nasty fate.

I’m sitting here trying to suss out if I achieved my original goal of this trip. When I applied, I wrote an essay about jealousy. I have always listened with awe and envy to travelers — those who drop everything to explore the world and in doing so explore themselves. Stories of far away India and Thailand seemed so exotic and untouchable. Most importantly, though, they were inspiring. So much so that I gave up everything I knew to travel down under for six months. Now, sitting half a world away in a paddock in the middle of Australia I realize that lust will never really be quelled. There are always those who have been further, farther — and I will always want to follow — but I have my own stories now. I can make someone else jealous with my stories of kangaroos, awe inspiring sunsets, camping in the bush and everything else.

And in doing so — I hope — inspire.

I'm SUPER thanks for asking!

dazey311 — Wed, 6 Feb 2008 00:45:00 GMT

Day 27

I confess we didn’t want to leave suburbia behind. Scott’s bathroom was bigger than my bedroom in New York City, nevermind Nomalita. But it wasn’t just the amenities that made our two days in Coffs so nice, it was the comfort that came with suburbia. I’m a city girl through and through, but with the ability to do everything comes the responsibility to do everything, and the guilt if you don’t. In Sydney, if I wasn’t out discovering a new bar, going to a gig or attending one of the gazillion festivals and free events the city puts on I always got the feeling I was missing something. Same thing in New York, and funny enough, same thing camping. Instead of events and gigs, it’s bush-walking trails, undiscovered beaches, elusive wildlife and all the other amazing things you’d most certainly miss if you spent the morning playing computer games in the van.

So with Coffs came the ability to lie on the couch with a movie and waste a day at the mall totally guilt free. I won’t get another weekend like that until I visit my parents on Long Island.

So we s t r e t c h e d the morning of Day 27. Took long showers (thanks Scott!),read the American Democratic Primary debates on CNN.com, played more video games — even watched one of my favorite movies: Lost in Translation. Rain: what an enabler. But by 4 p.m. we had to bid the comforts behind and hit the road. We were losing light and we needed to make some serious headway back to Sydney.

Daniel, Ricky, Steve, Karl and I arrived in Crowdy Bay National Park at 6:30 p.m. Stray hitchhikers, you ask? Not exactly. Ricky Gervais, Stephen Merchant and Karl Pilkington are the masterminds behind the greatest comedy podcast of all time: The Ricky Gervais Show. They accompanied us through the rain, keeping me in fits of laughter and entertaining Daniel enough to help him stay awake on the road. Rickygervais.com or Itunes — you’ll thank me in time.

Crowdy Bay was indeed, crowdy, and not just with humans. We joined throngs of other campers and a herd of roos at the rainsoaked campsite. It was beautiful though; mist covered the tops of the mountains jutting out from the sea, and the green bluegray waves crashed up on jagged rockpiles to our left. It felt very Mists of Avalon, and I half-expected the Lady of the Water to appear out of the clouds. We made like kids and played with shells and rocks for an hour before heading back to the van to make dinner and hit the hay. We needed to be up early Monday…Superbowl Monday!

Day 28

“How long is the game,” Daniel asked.

“Oh, you know, long,” I answered.

“How long?” he asks, not giving up.

“Maybe three hours? About three hours,” I answer, lying through my teeth. I know the the last two minutes will take a half hour alone.

We’re back in Forster, and my first Superbowl Monday is upon me. (It’s Sunday, always, at home.) Superbowl XLII New York Giants vs. New England Patriots; Daniel’s first Superbowl ever. Normally I wouldn’t make such a big deal about watching but after Jeff came over ranting and raving about the come-from-behind Giants and their almost-win over the New England Patriots, I had to watch. This was New York vs. Boston, after all, and no matter how many miles away I may be, I still want to kick Beantown’s bum.

So we settled in for the long haul at a pub in the lakeside town of Forster. It was 10 a.m (and little did he know he’d be there ‘til 2). I’ll spare you the details of the game, but suffice it to say it was one of the best football games I’d ever watched, a real nailbiter, and the underdog Giants pulled through. 17-14 — a game that will go down in NY history.

With me giddy and Daniel satiated, we hit the road once more, and this time for my final destination: the Hunter Valley. I’d been looking forward to wine tasting for a month, and it was finally time. A full day of wine, cheese and chocolate? This is pretty much my heaven. We were a ways away, and finally made it to the Hunter Valley YHA around 6 p.m.

There are things rain does to a van, namely get it very, very dirty. So when Michael, the owner of the fabulous (and built from the ground up, I might add) YHA, offered us an ensuite room we gratefully accepted. Less a hostel, more a retreat, the hostel was a lesson in rustic perfection. A handbuilt wooden sauna and full-on pool area beckoned to the left, an old barn housing laundry and a living room-like bar loomed on the right, and in front of us stretched a glorious, house surrounded by a gorgeous continuous porch. The place was packed from the atmospheric wooden picnic tables on the porch to the cozy couches in the bar, with fruit pickers here to pick grapes at the vineyards. They were here for the harvest and would be until March. I was impressed, to say the least — it had been pouring for a few days now, and soaking wet shoes and wellies lined the porch to prove it.

We spent the evening in the bar for the hostel-sponsored pool competition. Winners won a case of VB and $20 — not bad! I’m proud to say Daniel and his teammate Alex made it to the final. Superbowl day indeed — wins in both football and pool!

I’d say we both went to bed happy :)

A Rainy Day in Coffs Harbour

dazey311 — Sat, 2 Feb 2008 13:35:00 GMT

Day 25

When traveling, it’s rare to experience a slice of “normal” life. You’re exploring a new city and seeing the sights, soaking up the sun on magnificent beaches, exploring ancient ruins or discovering the great outdoors. What you’re not doing, at least in most cases, is playing video games at your friend’s apartment, going to the movies and ordering in pizza.

But somehow, this weekend I’ve entered a life of suburban normalcy. After leaving Port Macquarie, Daniel and I drove up to the coastal town of Coffs Harbour to meet a few of his former co-workers. He’d worked with this office remotely, but had never spent a decent amount of face time with those living in Coffs. We figured we’d pay them a visit, grab a drink or two and make it our final northern destination. Byron Bay was a pipe dream — way too much driving — but Coffs we could do.

The guys were at work until 5 p.m., but no worries: we had kitsch to see. Coffs Harbour is home to the “Big Banana,” only one of the numerous “big” things in Australia. So far I’ve seen a Big Shrimp, a Big Cassowary, a Big Worm and a Big Koala. I do not know why Australia has this obsession with “big” things, but I do know they make excellent time-killers.

Daniel and I perused various banana memorabilia before settling on a big banana sticker for the van, purchased two chocolate covered frozen banana, then drove down the street to see the super-kistchy Clog Barn. Again, for reasons I am unable to understand, Coffs Harbour is also home to a miniature Dutch village with a large barn that sells clogs. I tried some on, took the photo opportunity and requested Daniel call his friends. I was officially kitsched out.

So by 4:30 p.m. we were cooling off in an air-conditioned office playing on the computers, and by 5:30 p.m. we were at the pub across the street having a few with the post-work crowd. It was decided we’d spent the night in Scott’s driveway (guaranteed shower, wahoo!), hence the rest of the night was spent eating, drinking and watching stupid movies like Billy Madison. It felt kind of like being on Long Island, and for some odd reason, I couldn’t have been happier.

Besides, tomorrow we’d be back to camping, sightseeing and the like…right?

Wrong.

Day 26
Daniel and I woke up the next day to the deafening sound of splattering raindrops on Nomalita’s roof. It was the kind of rain you knew would stick around, and for that matter, why shouldn’t we? The morning drifted by as I played on the internet and Daniel and Scott played some sort of racing game where you get out of the car and run people over. Thing Grand Theft Auto, but not. Lunchtime became a trip to the pub and an excursion to the mall. A typical suburban Saturday.

And I finally found the van gift I’ve been looking for at Target — a boogie board. I can’t count the number of times Jeff said, “Wow, these waves would be awesome with a boogie board,” so I decided to gift one to the van. (After Jeff had left of course, sorry lil bro.)

With that done, we drove under grey skies and more rain so the boys could play video games (again) at the house. We ended our Saturday evening at the most obvious of suburban attractions: the movies. (Sidenote: Juno rocks, go see it!)

I can’t say it was expected, but it was welcome, nonetheless. Whether it’s Long Island or Coffs Harbour, we all have the ability to waste a rainy Saturday on video games, movies and pizza.

And hey, I’m not complaining!

Big Rocks and Port Muh-Quarry

dazey311 — Fri, 1 Feb 2008 11:57:00 GMT

Day 24

It seems like not that long ago I was walking down Macleay Street in Potts Point, Sydney, popping into gourmet cafes and swanky bookstores. Now I’m sitting in Kempsey, NSW, on the Macleay river popping into the van. Only 300 K away and a world of difference.

It’s almost 7 p.m. and the temperature has finally dropped. The scorching upper 20 degree heat has been menacing all day and the AC has been getting quite a work out.

So today. Today was a driving day. We started off from Nelson Bay early in the morning, heading for the Myall Lakes. According to Lonely Planet, the Myall Lakes form the largest natural freshwater system in NSW. I’d seen plenty of ocean on this trip so far, but as far as lakes go, nada. It took a bit of convincing, but I got my way. Lake day it would be.

But first, we stopped at the LP recommended Rock Roadhouse. Essentially a huge replica of Uluru with a gas station and fast food. Brilliant. In fact, it was so brilliant, that I got out my newly charged camera battery and chucked it in my camera. Hit the “On” button and…nothing. Tried again. Nothing. “Please come back to me, please come back,” I silently begged. Nothing. Sigh. To Canon it would go.

Soon enough, we were on the Lakes Way, surrounded by huge, shimmering blue-green lakes to our left and dunes leading to the ocean on our right. We stopped for lunch at a picturesque spot on the banks of Lake Wallis.

Now extremely unhappy and annoyed about my non-functioning camera, I looked up in surprise as three kookaburras and two magpies joined us for the meal. We watched intently as the kookaburras tried to shoo the magpies away. Laughing, squawking, whatever you want to call it, they seemed to say “These are our scraps! Out!” One particularly eager one even hopped on the table and stared me down as I cut up red pepper for our chicken sandwiches. I shrieked, and he flew back up to his tree. That’s right birdie, “My sandwich!”

By afternoon we reached Port Macquarie. I opted for a 50 cent Micky D’s soft serve; Daniel went for a tandoori pie, and soon enough we were off once more. Port is the kind of town you live in. We were ready to get somewhere more off the beaten track…

Which has now somehow brought us to the Macleay River in Kempsey. Most notable thing about Kempsey? It’s the home of the famous Akubra hat (says LP, of course), which, is that Aussie hat. The Crocodile Dundee, Aussie swaggering Aussie hat. You know the one.

Tomorrow we’ll get to our final Northward destination of this journey: Coffs Harbour. Home to beaches galore and the Big Banana, but more importantly, home to the other half of Daniel’s IT team, with whom he has worked with remotely from Sydney for 8 months but never met in person.

Scott, Will, here we come! Hope you don't mind a huge van parked in your driveway...

Looking for the ideal retirement town? This is it.

dazey311 — Fri, 1 Feb 2008 11:53:00 GMT

Day 22

Day 22. It began with waves crashing softly on the Putty Beach shores only 20 meters to our right. I woke up not to roommates stumbling in drunk at 6 a.m. but to fisherman pulling in to set up camp for the day. Other than one highly amusing argument at 2 a.m. (“If I had my license I would keep driving! But I don’t! So why don’t you just get in the car and we’ll go!”) it was pure peace and quiet.

With the mania of Sydney 100 Ks behind, Daniel and I felt the stress of previous day’s adventures melt away. Today’s agenda: Drive to Newcastle, get our Internet fix, do laundry, see the Lonely Planet recommended “Giant Penis” (really a tall lookout tower on the wharf) and get to Port Stephens to camp.

We made good on our entire agenda, I’m proud to say — and we even got gas and water!

First stop, Newcastle. To get out of the windy, maze-like peninsula of Woy Woy, Terrigal and numerous other teeny lake-towns, we drove in circles to find out way to the Pacific Highway. This was fine however, because it was some of the most stunning scenery I’ve seen in Australia. Huge mountainous hills rising out of the water, wildlife everywhere and more sailboats than cars. We drove, quiet except for a “left” or a “right” — mesmerized by the scenery. So much so that Daniel actual coined a word for the quality of scenery on the road. Scenocity, my friends, works on a scale of 1-20. Around the Gosford area, we were up to about an 18, which unfortunately dropped to 13 after hopping on the PH to get up to Newcastle.

Good thing it only took an hour. Before we knew it we were surrounded by city once more, only this time our only agenda was to relax, find the beach and eat lunch. First stop, the information center. If you ever plan to travel Australia, I highly recommend them. You can grab every map around the region, get local knowledge (as in, where the hot showers are if you’re campervanning a la Nomalita) and sign up for tours or whatever else you want to do. In our case, I needed to find a Laundromat and Internet, stat. Lucky us, the entirety of Beaumont Street in Hamilton, a boho area Newcastle, had wireless internet. And a Laundromat.

But first, the Penis. According to Lonely Planet, this is what Newcastle locals call the giant 180 step viewing structure at the Queen’s Wharf. Well, this I had to see. We drove down, promptly booked it up the 180 steps and gazed out on Newcastle. “Now you can say you’ve been in a giant penis Daniel, isn’t that cool?” Nervous laughs…yeah, OK fine, but I’m telling my friends when I get home from Australia.

180 steps down later, we jumped back in the van and drove to Nobbys beach. The thing I love most about Sydney is the fact that its beaches are only 15 minutes out of town. Forget 15 minutes. In Newcastle, the beach was practically in city center. Maybe a 10 minute walk, at most. We ate looking out on the beach; and noted, not for the first time this week, that everyone else was at work. Sorry guys.

I did have errands to do though, so after lunch we headed over to Beaumont Street. Just as the brochure advertised, free wireless on the entire street. I threw my laundry in, popped over to the café and got comfortable with my computer and an iced-tea.

I probably could have stayed there all day sipping drinks and playing online, but we had things to do and places to see so by 4:30 we were on the road again to Port Stephens. And a good thing LP instructs to follow the signs for Nelson Bay, otherwise we’d be halfway up the coast by now with no idea where the place was. Turns out it’s actually an entire peninsula jutting off into the sea. Bays, mountains and inlets dot the area, which is actually made up of the towns of Nelson Bay, Salamander Bay, Anna Bay, Shoal Bay and Fingal Bay. We were here mostly because of the dunes. 32 Ks of Arabian Nights-style sand dunes go from here all the way back to Newcastle. We were going to sandboard them.

We spent the evening driving around the peninsula in circles — getting oriented, right? Eventually we stumbled upon Inner Light (how cool a name is that?), the coast guard station. We climbed up to find one of the volunteers working the radios. Only 15 minutes before he’d called the police because one of the boaters was a half hour past his scheduled docking time. The boater was fine, and it was pretty interesting to see him at work. Not to mention, the place had the best view of Port Stephens.

Pooped and ready to chill, we grabbed a $4.95 large pizza from Eagle Boys (cheapy Tuesdays, I love em!) and settled into our spot. I spent the waning sunlight hour sitting on the beach reading Lonely Planet until a local guy came up to chat. He pointed to the water and asked, “Have you seen any dolphins yet?” “No, unfortunately.” I’d just read Port Stephens has a community of 120 Bottlenose dolphins, and I was keeping my eyes open. “Ah,” he said. “I’ve got a friend in there.” Last year, whenever this guy went for a swim, a female dolphin would swim with him all the way to the end of his route and back. He left the area for a while in winter, but when he returned this summer, she was still there, this time with a baby. They all swam together, his first time back in. Out of all the local stories I’ve heard in Australia, I’d say that comes in at #1.

Day 23

There are some places you just don’t want to leave. After seeing the little bit of Port Stephens we had the night before, we decided to make it a day. It was too beautiful a place to leave.

First things first: sandboarding. We drove over to Port Stephens 4WD Tours to sign up for their shuttle from Anna Bay. By 11 a.m. we were driving over Sahara-like dunes in a bright red 4WD Toyota bus. When we arrived at the “hill” (sand mountain, if you ask me) our driver and guide, Warren, showed us how to wax up the black board, hop on and race down the hill dragging our hands behind. Now, like all kids, I’m a huge fan of sledding, but only of the ride down, of course. Coming back up? Not so much. I trudged up p..a…n…t…i…n…g in the blazing Australian heat. “I feel bad for the people coming at 3:30,” Warren said. It was going to be a hot one. Four rides later, we soon discovered it was equally as fun to ride down the teeny hill (on the opposite side of the big one) standing up (*although they don’t recommend doing this, so, you know, do so at your own risk and all) without the huge walk up from the bottom. Half an hour later, I did one last big one, ate sand, and promptly jumped in the bus to get back to the beach. We spent the next 40 minutes splashing in the ocean, doing all we could to get the sand out of…well, everything.

By 1 p.m. we were starving and I’d read in Lonely Planet that one of the coast’s top Aussie pie places was right in Nelson Bay. Red Ned’s Gourmet Pies makes all sorts of homemade pies, including Kangaroo Teriyaki and Lobster, Prawn and Barrimundi with Coconut Sauce, both of which we tried. It was a tough choice between the Beef Stroganoff, but I was happy. Definitely worth a stop, even if just for the incredibly tasty sesame seed covered crust!

Satiated and curious, we gave the teeny town of Nelson Bay a walk-around. I loved every shop — tons of funky Australian clothes and homegoods — I could have stayed all day. Daniel finally managed to drag me away to go for a swim down at Shoal Bay. If you can picture it (not that you have to, because I’m posting pictures but—) Shoal Bay is a huge body of water surrounded by one small strip of blinding white sand and clear green water. We joined some young Aussie vacationers jumping off the jetty and made like crazy 16-year-olds for most of the afternoon.

Thanks to a tip from an awesome local at the Nelson Bay info center, our next stop was the public pool in Salamander Bay. The warm pool water felt clean and refreshing after the salty bay…so good, in fact, it actually inspired me to spend some time doing laps. 20 cents for a hot shower too, thank you!

As night fell we walked up the Tomaree Head trail up to the old gun emplacements built during WWII. We squinted for dolphins out in the bay and finally made our way down as the sun finally set.

As I’m sitting here writing this, I finally realize why the local I met last night came for a holiday and stayed for years. Port Stephens is seriously a place you just don’t want to leave. But tomorrow we would — to Port Macquarie we would go.

Leaving Sydney...Again

dazey311 — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 04:09:00 GMT

Day 19

Short day….

July 4 is my favorite holiday at home. Summer barbeques, beach parties, free music, fireworks — you can’t beat it. Yeah, I was pretty sure I’d like Australia Day.

Exhausted from Big Day Out, I took my time getting out for the day. Not the best idea. By the time I got to the Triple J Hottest 100 countdown party in The Domain they were down to #8 and the place was packed. I did make it just in time to see Daniel Johns come out right before Silverchair nabbed the #2 spot. Wayfarers on; of course. Despite all the talk of Silverchair for #1, Muse took the spot. The Domain cleared out pretty soon afterward, and by 8 p.m. I was somehow on a train to Cronulla for a raging beach party.

To my later regret, I had no clue where Cronulla was. Little did I know, it was about an hour’s drive from Sydney, even longer on the train. We made it to the party, which was actually raging, but of course missed the last train back to the city.

Purely thanks to an extremely nice Sutherlander who drove us to said town to catch a taxi, we made it home 3 hours later at 4 a.m. I promptly passed out and slept until 5:00 p.m. Sunday. Not bad for a first Australia Day, I’d say!

Day 20

So, again, exhausted from Big Day Out and now even more so from my Australia Day adventure to Cronulla the night before, I knew today would be a day of rest. That’s exactly why I decided to head down to the beach for a quiet get together with a few friends from Sydney.

What I didn’t know was the Beach Road Hotel was having the biggest party in Bondi. What can I say, what was supposed to be a quiet evening turned into another huge night and I made it home sometime in the early morning hours.
I felt like a good Australian, but heck, the city was taking it out of me.

Tomorrow I’d be on the road once more…

Day 21

And now here I sit, on the road, in Nomalita, next to another gorgeous beach in New South Wales. We’re in Bouddhi National Park (I had to come purely because it was called Booty Park), and I’m now in the van with one of my first and best friends here, Kiwi Daniel. I met Daniel way back when in October, at the Scary Canary bar in Sydney. We met because I’m 5’ and he’s 6’5’’ and I happily stood on a chair to talk to him. Even during my Two months away traveling, we always kept in touch, and now he’s here to drive the last 9 days with me and the van.

No idea where the road will take us…just North for now!

Our BIG Day Out

dazey311 — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 03:56:00 GMT

Day 18

Back in February when I decided to come to Australia, one of the first things I did was look up who would be playing Big Day Out. It wasn’t posted all the way back then, but either way, I decided I’d be going some way, some how.

Then in July a good friend of mine in the music industry told me he’d be touring with a band for Big Day Out. He asked if I’d like to go... obviously. Fast forward to Thursday, literally the day before the show — three tickets were magically waiting for me at a hotel in Sydney. My friend, you rock.

You may remember we made a quick pit stop in the Sydney Olympic Park before getting into Sydney for the first time. It was an hour detour, all to use the bathroom at some café there, because other than a beautiful park and sports grounds, there’s not much to see. An hour later, frustrated, tired and cranky, we finally got to the city. So it was with great irony that when I looked up where Big Day Out was — wait for it — of course: Olympic Park. It’s almost as if the place didn’t want to leave us with bad memories. Suffice it to say, it most certainly did not.

We arrived at the site around 3:30 p.m. Towering carnival rides whirred and clanged around us, food stalls beckoned with munchies galore and the music was pumping from all around. My heaven, pretty much. First stop, the free water stations. American music festivals take note: You do not have to charge $2 for water!

First stop, Spoon, where a very overeager security guard got way too excited about his ability to spray water on the crowd. It was early, it wasn’t that hot — we weren’t having it. Bottles were thrown, the crowd was getting feisty and we were all waiting for a full-on water war to begin. After tight versions of “Small Stakes” “Jonathan Fisk” and “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb” an increasingly frustrated Britt Daniel turned to the power-tripping guard and said, “Dude, stop spraying them.” He didn’t. Britt, again, “They’re throwing water bottles at you because they want you to stop spraying them. Stop.” He didn’t. “Asshole. Stop.” One last spray…one last word from Britt: “Dipshit.” Other than the stellar set from Arcade Fire, I’d say that was the highlight of my Big Day Out.

Next up, new Australian wonder Pnau. I’d heard a bit about him from Sydney music mags 3Dworld and The Brag, but I wanted to see for myself. I ditched Jeff and Crystal at Billy Bragg and headed to the dancetastic Boiler Room. Minutes later I was in a massive hangar surrounded by the club kids of Sydney. It felt like 4 a.m. — and we danced like it too.

After the set and now full from delicious, greasy Turkish Pide sammies, we emerged into the main stage area where Aussie rock gods Silverchair were about to start. Daniel Johns emerged minutes later, half-naked, Wayfarers on, as always. Unfortunately we spent the set waiting to get into the front partition to get a good spot for Arcade Fire.

It was worth it. By the time Win Butler and Co. took the stage we were one row back from the front. When the “Wake Up” chants started the crowd lurched forward into pure frenzy and I ceased to stand on my own. Soon enough, Crystal and I both went up on Jeff’s shoulders. I sang my heart out to “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels),” and by “Rebellion (Lies)” (the set-ender) my voice was happily gone.

We stayed for three Rage Against the Machine songs — when else am I going to see them — then rocked off to New Yorker LCD Soundsystem. I danced my butt off again, regained my voice just enough to sing along to set ender “New York I Love You” and went home happy.

Pretty good last day in Australia for Crystal and Jeff, I’d say. By 6 a.m. they were headed to the airport, and I was on my own for Australia Day weekend.

Interlude in the City

dazey311 — Sat, 26 Jan 2008 03:29:00 GMT

Day 16

One thing about staying in the mountains is that it’s fuh-reaking cold! The Australian sun is brutal, but when it sets up there the warmth rushes from the air like dirt up a vacuum.

I woke up shivering to cloudy skies and a damp mountain floor. After a few various grunts and “ehs” to my proposition of a bushwalk, we finally decided the course of the day.

To Bondi Beach we would go.

Well, the beach Gods must have been shining down on us, because as we finally reached the end of Bondi Road two hours later there was nothing but blue skies overhead and deep blue sea below. The temperature was a perfect 25 degrees— just enough to get hot and run headfirst into the crashing waves barreling into shore.

At one point, bikini-clad Crystal looked over to me and said, “It could be snowing in Albany right now. They were leaving in 3 days. “I hope I don’t have to shovel my car out,” she continued. I looked out at the ocean, incredulous that anyone could leave that to go back to snow and cold. “Hey, you could always change your flight!” Unfortunately grad school applications can’t wait any longer, and today would be her last beach day until summer in New York.

We left around 4 p.m. to check into the NOMADS Maze Backpackers in the center of town. The perfect place for Crystal and Jeff’s last two days of Australian debauchery. We made like backpackers, ate the last of our pasta and joined in for quiz night. I’m proud to say I recognized Hillary Swank in Boys Don’t Cry and Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie for the bonus round. The capital of Latvia? Not so much. (It’s Riga, by the way. Oh well.)

Post-trivia it was on to Sidebar for the 2 for 1 special, then on to Opera Bar to meet friends. Beach, beds and beer: all in all, a perfect Sydney day.

Day 17

It’s one thing to wake up at 8 a.m. when you’re going to bed not long after sunset. It’s another thing to wake up that early in Sydney after closing down the Opera Bar. Yet we did, and dragged ourselves out of bed bright and early to enjoy our only full city day.

After spending the early hours ogling shoes on Sydney’s famed Pitt Street mall, I happily dragged Crystal to my favorite shopping street in Sydney: Crown Street. Packed with vintage stores, boutiques and tiny cafes, it’s a city girl’s dream. I once spent an entire day walking up and down Crown Street, then making my way down Oxford Street to Paddington, another huge shopping district. I can most decidedly say that was one of my favorite days in Australia, and I’ve got the receipts to prove it. Today Crystal would have the fun. She bought the perfect little festival dress (in preparation for Big Day Out!) at Felt, quite possibly my favorite store in Sydney. Nothing over $30! I highly recommend ladies.

A few receipts and a lot of walking later, we took a break at Kawa, a small café on Crown. The place is surrounded by a white picket fence, wooden tables and vintage chairs, and populated with hipsters galore. What can I say, it was love at first sight. We settled in with quiche and fresh smoothies, and waited for Jeff to come join us from his solo adventure.

Minutes later — and starving — he arrived and promptly scoffed at my suggestion to stay for the organic sandwiches and juices, and instead we hightailed it down to Darlinghurst for the lunch special at Urban Thai. What a find! For $6.50 we got full on Thai meals. Delicious. An hour later we stood at Mrs. Macquarie’s chair, taking in the view of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge. Exhausted, I headed back to the hostel to shower before my first opera ever, thankyouverymuch, while Crystal and Jeff trekked on to walk the bridge.

Back to that opera thing. When Crystal first decided to come to Australia, the first thing she did after buying her plane ticket was buy tickets for the opening night of Carmen at the Opera House — for all three of us! It was a day I’d been looking forward to for months. I’d been to the symphony there, which was fantastic, but to see an opera at the Opera House, that was something else.

For once, we shunned our flip-flops and sweat pants and broke out the little dresses. By 7:30 p.m. we were seated, watching the curtain rise on the French opera. The show was fabulous, and though I’m embarrassed to say this after taking French for six years, I wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much without the subtitles!

We were asleep by midnight; tomorrow would be a big one. A Big Day Out…

Cities and Mountains, oh my

dazey311 — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 01:03:00 GMT

Day 14 & 15

“Chop chop ladies, chop chop!” shouted Jayden. Crystal and I raced on.

Let me explain. The remainder of yesterday evening was enhanced greatly by the presence of the five boys camping next door. After the sun set, they (and we) were entertained by their voracious appetite to find every single wombat feeding in the area. We raced around the campground flashlights in hand, trying to find the cute little critters. We succeeded a few times; meanwhile, the animals gave us a look that said, “What? I’m eating.” We left them alone. Ok, well, we left them alone; the five boys kept at it for another hour so.

Much to our dismay, we awoke the next morning to find the skies grey, cloudy and rainy. “Noooooo,” Crystal and I moaned. Oh well, today we’d be arriving in Sydney and nothing — especially not a bit of drizzle — could put a damper on that. I’ve spent more time in Sydney than anywhere else in Australia, so basically, I was going home. We drove through morning, stopping only for a quick look around the Sydney Olympic Park, and before we knew it, we were rolling up to Central Station, van and all.

I’ve stayed all over Sydney during my various time spent there. Potts Point, Surry Hills, the CBD, a couch in North Sydney for a night — I could go on. This time I’d be at the Railway Square YHA with the crew. I’d actually heard a lot about the place from other backpackers and I was excited to check it out. Some of the rooms are even old railway cars!

The staff there was kind enough to put us all in our own room together, and Nomalita got a sweet spot right out front next to the pool. Yes, a pool, in the middle of Railway Square. Insane! Besides, free parking? Can’t beat that.

As soon we were washed up and Internet fixed (hello, the GIANTS and PATRIOTS in the Super Bowl!? WHAT? Go Giants!), we headed down to Paddington, one of my favorite neighborhoods in Sydney. Then, for the first time in two weeks, we went out to dinner. And after that, we went to a pub! You’d think, traveling up the coast, that we’d be indulging, but we really have been roughing it. Making all our own meals, sticking to our goon in the woods (and not even often) and generally steering clear of civilization. It was nice to be back. I had a delicious Greek salad at a little café called Mickey’s, then left my van companions to hang out with a friend who was leaving Australia for Boston the next day. I waved goodbye across the street as they left to see Circular Quay and the Opera House for the first time. That’s another thing about roadtripping — you definitely need breaks!

The next day, refreshed from our hostel stay, we left Sydney once again for the wilderness. I stared longingly out the window as the city disappeared behind us, but today was the day for the Blue Mountains. We’d have to be back by Thursday for Carmen at the Opera House and Friday for Big Day Out, only the summer Aussie music festival. Tonight would be Crystal and Jeff’s last night in the bush.

We arrived in the precious mountain town of Katoomba in mid-afternoon, and immediately ducked into one of the town’s tiny cafes for sammies and caffeine. We’d had a taste of city life — the tuna in the van would have to wait. The thing I love about Katoomba isn’t actually its small-town, boho feel, it’s the fact that it actually feels like a small neighborhood in Sydney. It’s as if they picked up parts of Surry Hills, Glebe and Newtown and plopped them in the mountains. The restaurants are top notch, the coffee is superb and vintage shops and bookstores are in abundance. Not bad for a day of roughing it in the mountains.

After lunch and a quick look in a bookshop, we headed down to Echo Point to view the vast Jamison Valley, and of course, the famous Three Sisters rock formation. The three rocks pierced the stark green valley, and I couldn’t help but look at them as three women trapped. According to Lonely Planet, the story goes that “the Three Sisters were turned to stone by a sorcerer to protect them from the unwanted advances of three young men, but the sorcerer died before he could turn them back to humans.” I guess it beats giving out a wrong phone number, eh?

After an hour or so we headed back into town to shop, then left for the even smaller town of Blackheath to camp at Perry’s Lookdown. Gorgeous views spanned out from either side of the lookout, and suddenly Sydney felt very far away.

Good thing we’d be back tomorrow!

Entering Bambiland

dazey311 — Mon, 21 Jan 2008 04:25:00 GMT

Day 12 & 13

I’m lying on the grass in the greenest place I have ever been in my life.

We’ve just arrived in the teeny town, or shall I say, campground, of Bendeela, about 40 minutes outside Wollongong. Sydney is only two hours away, but it could be 500. There’s a gorgeous river snaking through the enormous, lush green Kangaroo valley, and there’s even a tarzan rope on the opposite bank, ready for swinging. Perhaps a little “Ahhheeeehhhaaaeeeaaa” tomorrow morning.

I feel one with nature. Except there are ants crawling on my computer and flies attempting to enter my shorts. Time to go inside.

Where was I. Oh yeah, the “one with nature” bit. This place feels like a scene out of Bambi. The waning sunlight is tenderly hitting the tops of the trees…and as I wrote that sentence two golden brown kangaroos hopped away into the distance.

We arrived here from a long day in Jervis Bay, truly the “jewel” of the Sapphire Coast. The south side of the bay is claimed by the Booderee National Park, and completely surrounded by white sand beaches. Murrays and Green Patch on the Bay side, Cave Beach on the ocean side. We hit all three, and each, as cheesy as it sounds, was special in its own way. We started off at Murray’s Beach; the most secluded, it was surrounded by green forest on all sides, and looked straight out at an island in the bay. It was truly a tropical paradise, and for a minute, I was back on Whitehaven beach in the Whitsundays. We spent an hour or so reading and sunning before leaving to catch the waves at Cave Beach on the other side. I’m not too big of a wave person, but the sparking blue water here was too hard to resist. I jumped in head first and spent time jumping the surf and gawking at the talented surfers catching wave after wave after wave. By the time we ate lunch and showered, it was off to admire the hundreds of parrots gathered at Green Patch beach. After showers at the gorgeous campsite (sidenote: never thought I’d call a campsite gorgeous!), we drove on to the picturesque town of Huskinsson.

“Husky” as the locals call it, is a mini version of Apollo or Byron Bay. Basically, the perfect little vacation town. I love them, if you can recall, therefore I was perfectly content to shop the cheesy novelty store and grab a gourmet ice cream cone. If you ever see the flavor “Baileys Toasted Almond” get it.

Day 12 was essentially the opposite of all that. We awoke from a ridiculously heavy rainstorm the night before to a soaking wet Pebble Beach. Like the troopers we are, we still made the 3.4 K trek to Clear Point, overlooking the beach and the ocean. Soaked, smelly and without anymore clean underwear, we hightailed it to Ulladulla, the next town on the Princes Highway. The rest of the day was spent on laundry and driving. Thrilling, I know, but it must be done.

And now, Bendeela, otherwise known as Bambiland.

It will be hard to leave such a beautiful place for Sydney tomorrow. Nevertheless, I can’t wait to get there. Friends, bars, shopping…beds — I’m practically bursting. What can I say; I’m a city girl!

Just One of Those Days...

dazey311 — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 04:02:00 GMT

Day 11

Well, today was just one of those days.

Let me preface this post by saying we have had absolutely perfect weather the past 12 days. Could not have asked for better.

Today, finally, it rained. And not even a lot, it was just one of those cloudy, dreary, rainy days. After 12 days of sunshine it was actually a nice change. It just meant we weren’t in the mood to do anything. A movie day, if you will. Except it would be cheating if we popped into the movies, wouldn’t it? Waste a day in Australia numbing our minds with Will Smith’s latest zombie thriller or Jennifer Garner’s latest rom-com? No, we wouldn’t do that.

We started off from Cape Conran at 9 a.m. ready and willing to do a morning’s hike in Croajingalong National Park. (Say it: Crow-ah-jing-ga-long.) We drove down to the small entrance town of Mallacoota, for the coastal walk, but first we were all in desperate need of a quick shower. Problem is, after showers, one gets clean. And when one is clean, one doesn’t exactly want to do a sweaty, dirty hike.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: “So, the road to the hike should be this way.”

Jeff: Looks at his watch. “How far down is it?”

Me: “About 15 K. Hmm, that’s kind of far.”

Jeff: “Yeah.”

Me: “Do you guys really want to do this hike?”

Crystal and Jeff: “No.”

Me: “Me either.”

Jeff: As he turns the car around, “Ok, let’s go.”

And so we were off. No real agenda for the day, just to get, you know, somewhere.

What ended up happening, inevitably, is that we went where the road took us. The first place being New South Wales. We pulled over in the no man’s land between the two state signs and bid farewell to Victoria.

The first town we reached in New South Wales was Eden. Of course, this immediately reminded me of Eden Falls, the Desperate Housewives town, which then reminded me of Teri Hatcher, which then reminded me of her daughter Emerson, and eventually to the disturbing fact that I know way too much about celebrities. I smiled at the fact that I haven’t read a gossip column in more than two weeks. Driving down these idyllic highways, you really do feel far from reality.

We had a quick lunch in an idyllic little picnic spot in Eden and were on our way.

Ironically, the drive today was perfect in the rain. Green pastures spread out on either side of the Princes Highway, soaking up the rain as if there were no tomorrow. The clouds overhead gave everything a misty glow, and I felt like I was in Northern Scotland.

An hour or so after Eden, we reached Bega. Little did we know, Bega is the hometown of the Bega cheese factory. Five minutes later, we were in. We tried about 10 different kinds of cheeses — tasty, extra tasty, rye, pepper rye, chilli rye, pepper slice, 19^th century, cheesemaker’s choice, etc. The winners were cheesemaker’s choice and 19^th century by a landslide. Upstairs, the factory had set up a small cheese museum with the original 19^th century factory rebuilt upstairs (it was only a small room).

I bought a cow postcard and an ice cream and we were on our way.

Our next stop, though short, is, I think, a stop everyone should make if they’re heading down this way. I’m talking about the town of Narooma. First of all, it’s a gorgeous spot. Montague Island is visible in the distance, and the lakes surrounding the town let out into the Tasman. Picturesque cliffs and rocks jut out from the jetty, and with the misty clouds overhead it all looked straight out of a fantasy novel.

What we were there for though, was Australia Rock. Apparently a certain rock had been blown out by the wind and water, and the resulting hole looked exactly like Australia. They were right. We each took turns hopping up into it and moments later three new Facebook pictures were born.

Since we’d already driven so far, we decided to push on until Pebbly Beach, in Murramarang National Park. Our last stop would be less than 400 K to Sydney. Finally, at sunset, we arrived to find kangaroos happily munching on dinner. After a few photos, so were we.

Tomorrow…hopefully some sunshine!

On the Road

dazey311 — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 04:00:00 GMT

Day 10

The key to roadtripping is, one might say, is to find the perfect balance between the actual driving and the “other” stuff. Eating, sightseeing, hiking, etc. For some, the idea of spending six hours in a car — tunes blaring, windows wide open — is bliss. For others, it’s hell. Why spend that much time in the car when you could be seeing what’s out there? Those are the types of people who see a turnoff for “World’s Largest Eggplant — Only 10 Miles Down This Dirt Road!” and take it.

I’m a turnoff type. Whenever we see a sign for something of mild interest, be it winery, National Park, farm, or hell, even those “pick your own” fruit fields, I stare longingly out the window until it disappears into the oblivion of my memory forever. It’s that nagging feeling of, “Well, what if I miss something?” What if I missed the chance to pick the tastiest strawberry of my entire life? Of course, I know to go down all those roads would be useless and I’d probably be indifferent about most of the stops, but nevertheless, I get that feeling about five times a day.

Some days, we make the stops. We do the tiny wineries off the side of the road (sidenote: I highly recommend the Rosé at the Warratah Winery outside Wilson’s Prom!); we stop for ice cream in the small little towns. But some days it’s nice to just drive. To stare at the signs and wonder what you’re missing. To keep things unknown. They remain pristine that way; untouched country ready and waiting to be explored next time.

Today was a driving day.

We started off on a patch of 90 mile beach, miles from the highway and miles from anyone not attached to a fishing rod. Slowly we made our way back to civilization, stopping in the charming town of Sale for an Internet break, then the larger town of Bairnsdale for ice cream, coffee and groceries. In between we blasted ‘80s and ‘90s hits (Unbelievable, literally) and tried to name all the American state capitals. Topeka, Kansas; Concord, New Hampshire; Sacramento, California; Billings, Montana — who knows. I’m hoping we got at least 40 out of 50.

Post-capital game, Jeff and Crystal decided to try and photograph every single “Drowsy Drivers Die”-ish roadsign. In Australia, you see, they do not want you to drive while tired. “Weary? A 15 Minute Powernap Could Save Your Life!” they shout from the side of the road. Camera in hand, Crystal was ready to capture them all. Every 10 minutes or so, Jeff would shout “Crystal!” and she’d be ready to shoot. We came to the conclusion that by the end of this trip, she’ll probably have more pictures of Australian signs than scenery. That and koalas, uh, relieving themselves. Hey, whatever floats your boat.

As we traveled up the A road, passing Lakes Entrance on the way to Orbost, the scene changed from farm to forest, and we all grew quiet. Huge gums surrounded the now shadowed road, and before long, the Snowy River appeared to our side. It’s these calm moments — in between games and photos and fighting over the volume of the stereo (I like it loud) — when I manage to lose myself in the scenery. That’s what I love about Australia: Just farms, hills and cows for as far as the eye can see.

Another day gone, another night falls. Another drive done.

The Overnight Hike (OMG)

dazey311 — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 00:41:00 GMT

Day 8

First things first, Wilson’s Promontory was one of the first Australian National Parks I’d ever gone to in Australia, so it did hold a special place in my heart. Back then in September, I saw herds of kangaroos basking in the sunlight of a huge empty field, and did my first serious bushwalk — an hour and a half from the main camping ground of Tidal River down to the infamous Squeaky Beach.

But this time would be different. First of all, when we stopped in the field I saw the kangaroos, there were no kangaroos, only bones. Crystal ran shrieking away, I frowned, and Jeff moved closer to check it out. Ew. Oh well, we’d check again on the way out. We were there mid-day, and the animals don't usually come out until dawn or dusk.

Anyway, this time we wouldn’t be doing the hike from Tidal River to Squeaky Beach. We strolled into the Parks office and registered for our first — my first ever — overnight hike. We’d be leaving the van in the car park and walking 10.2 ks to Sealer’s Cove on the other side of the Prom.

First, however, we’d each lunch. We drove down to Squeaky Beach and spent the afternoon on the gorgeous white sand, that yes, squeaks, when you walk on it. Last time it was too cold to take a dip, this time Crystal and Jeff jumped right in. Happily, I stayed on the beach with my book and lounged around with the celery and peanut butter. [Quick aside: How come no one else has ever heard of celery and peanut butter? Whenever I eat it in front of a Brit or an Aussie they look at me like I have two heads. Didn’t they ever do ants on a log? A stick of celery with peanut butter in the middle and raisins on top? Anyone? Bueller?]

After lunch we prepped our packs, hopped on the shuttle and headed off. Two and a half hours later, we emerged onto the most tranquil beach I’ve ever seen in my life. The mountains were perfectly lit in the waning sunlight, and the last .7 ks on the beach were straight out of The Blue Lagoon. Or Survivor, as Crystal noted. Take your pick!

The sun was just about down as we ate out one-pot meal of rice and beans in tortillas, and we were out by 10 p.m.

Oh yeah, wondering where we all slept? In a tent — in a two person tent. Yeahhh.

Needless to say, we woke up Day 9 sore as hell, and ready to go SHOWER.

Two and a half grueling hours later, I was scrubbing down in Tidal River, aimlessly trying to count the billions of mosquito bites that had popped up overnight.

Overall, it was an absolutely beautiful two days in Wilson’s Prom. I never thought I’d do anything like the overnight, and I’m glad I did it. Not saying you’re going to get me on a 5 day hike or anything like that, but it was totally worth it!

Next stop: 90 mile beach…and soon enough New South Wales!