My Walkabout

My red hoodie

elise_wilson — Thu, 1 Sep 2011 23:02:00 GMT

I forgot what it was like to be one of those kids who dragged around their smelly dirty blankie everywhere.

I know a someone who's a bit beyond the age of thumbsucking and nose picking, but the rag she once called her blankie which she sleeps with to this day is more than rediculous.

But here I am. 22 and I have been out and about this here world since I started University. When I moved to college one thing I lacked bringing was a warm enough jumper so I bought a $20 hoodie from an outlet. I was 18 when I bought it- 4 years ago. Here today I still have that hoodie and although I was planning on not returning to Australia with it at the moment I find myself unable to part with it. Its been through so much with me.

College, Uni, New Zealand, USA, Ecuador, Mexico, USA 2.0. Its been camping, hiking, snotted on, stained, ripped, has holes, I've slept in it, I've survived countless awful bus rides with it, planes, trains.

How could I let all that go?

Dodgy places, situations, accomodations

elise_wilson — Thu, 25 Aug 2011 02:15:00 GMT

So by now i've been to a few dodgy areas, seen a few dodgy things and stayed in my fair share of dodgy hostels. I've never felt like I was in any danger (mostly), but really just laughed at some of the places or situations i've found myself in... Here are a few of my favourites..

Wandering down Troost Street, Kansas City... enough said... no wait... accepting a ride from a stranger on Troost street to get me back to my accommodation (as it so happened I was heading in the wrong direction...

Walking around downtown Cancun Mexico, downtown Manta Ecuador.

Finding myself on the beach, at night with a dodgy Ecuadorian character in Montanita with little Spanish to go by.

Getting in a red van to Puerto Lopez and back. Where we ate one person got served a goldfish. There were pots on the wall big enough to cook a child in. On the return trip the driver cranked the weirdest dance music.

Trusting the local bus service going from Montanita to Manta via Jippijapa. What a ride...

In Los Angeles I stayed in a hostel in Korea Town. I was a big house and they had no storage, but they said it was completely fine to leave my bags in the communal living space. That night I slept in a dorm with 3 guys. One of them offered me the nicest smelling weed...

In New York I found a hostel to stay in for a cheap price over the expensive and busy Christmas period. It was in the mid-upper West side, however as I found out it was an apartment building which had been half-converted into an illegal hostel. I was in a two-bed dorm which didn't have much space to swing a cat. I don't think the bathrooms got cleaned. ever... But it was cheap!

I looked like a sherpa when I got caught in the aftermath of the NY white out the day after christmas. I was carrying my entire belongings (backpack, front backpack, shoulder bag) from dodgy hostel in the mid-west end up to above central part at new hostel. Slipped and slid around, slid down the subway, got harassed for money as I struggled getting up out of the subway, dived over a mountain of snow to get to my hostel (bags followed).

Anything which involved Mike telling me to come see him so he can smuggle me somewhere to eat candy and get completely obliterated for a night.. so far this has happened twice.

Arriving at Minneapolis airport, telling the taxi driver where I wanted to go. The taxi driver not knowing where I wanted to go, The taxi driver not knowing how to use his own GPS, me using his GPS to tell him where to go.

In Minneapolis I am staying in the only Hostel on offer. Its south of downtown and has a really nice kitchen! I've stayed in two different rooms. One was an attic and looked like it was a while since it had been cleaned. The next room has no lights, but has a shared private bathroom. Last night I got woken up to someone retching and vomiting in it... twice... I doubt that will be cleaned.

I did hear my Ma's voice of reason as I smoked weed with some guys I met at a congress and was able to hitch a ride with them back to Minneapolis. But seriously... we met a guy had a pet pig that could walk on its hand hooves!!!

The amount of busses i've jumped on and hoped they were taking me to the right direction. So far I have not failed.

Arguing with the Ecuadorian taxi driver who wanted to charge me $5 to get me from the Airport to downtown when I wanted to pay only 4. He asked me if I had a boyfriend.

All those great greyhound bus stations i've had the pleasure of spending quality time in, especially Detroit and Chicago. The even greater busses: Notable the smelly ones, the ones where I sat with smelly people or had crazy, smelly drivers (Memphis-Dallas).

dear dairy diary

elise_wilson — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 14:05:00 GMT

My body has decided to go all contemporary on me and reject most foods that don't look like the original product.

Guhhhhhhh

Conversations on a bus

elise_wilson — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 13:54:00 GMT

This man's name was Chris. I believe this could be right up there with the conversation I had in Detroit with Washad, or the one in Chicago with that bum.

Man: You've just got back?

Me: Me? Yeah nah I'm from Australia

Man: Oh you not from here

Me: Nope

Man: So if you from Australia, say have you ever seen a lion?

...

National Gymnastics Congress- Day Three

elise_wilson — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 13:21:00 GMT

So I started the day off forgetting to realise that it was Saturday and busses just may not run like they did the day before. So when my expected bus was 15 minutes overdue I then began questioning the timetable and finally realised that the bus was not coming. Derrp. Thinking of my options (none) I pranced across the road and found a taxi. He could get me there in time for the first lecture and for 25 bucks or so. Deal.

His name was Liam O'something. I forget, but he talked of his Irish family. This one actually knew where he was going. He had 3 daughters and 2 sons I think. His car smelled like my great Aunt's house (cats, Pomeranians and off milk), so i'm lucky I brought a change of clothes and perfume for later.

Another 7-session day. Today I wore my Heaps Good t-shirt after 2 failed days of hunting down these other elusive aussies. After the last morning session I spotted my stalking target. My old coach. Not much changed aside a little less hair and he was well surprised to see me. He was here on an all expenses paid trip... (one can only dream) and was training girls competing at the international scale.

After the day was done (more games, ideas, ideas, ideas) I once again made it to hospitality for some free food before watching some of the national championships. I was well over talking in my head so chanced plopping my food down at a table occupied by Phil. Phil was from Minnesota, but about an hour south. He said he didn't have a long history in gymnastics, but still managed to find himself here. Phil has gymnastics coach as a full-time job. Later I med Val. who could also claim gymnastics to pay the bills. strange.

Phil entertained me until it was time to see the gymnastics. I won a notebook at the Hilton promo booth. Phil won a dream bracelet. He was also attending the session, but my seat was in a prime viewing area in the middle of the floor, 6 rows up so you could still see all apparatus. gold. I enjoyed the session thoroughly, however I felt it was no different to seeing it on tv and caught myself several times watching the screen instead of the actual show.
On her third apparatus the reigning national champ landed bad off vault (stopping and twisting at the same time), needless to say it didn't end well for her.

The comp ended and met up with Phil (more so he found me), but I was planning on hitting up more free food again anyways. Met Val and some other people from their group and discovered the ins and outs of private gymnastics. Smoked some great weed... Talked to an artist. His wife was from new zealand. He had pet pig that could walk on its hands. legit.

Hung out at Rice Park. handstands and hackeysack. All else that happened I found myself at my hostel. Win. Ma would be proud.

National Gymnastics Congress- Day Two

elise_wilson — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 12:59:00 GMT

So I wrangled the public transport system just right and got to St Paul for day two. A full day basking in gymnastics goodness. 7 sessions on spotting, games, and 100 more things to do on... These guys really know what they're talking about.

Gymnastics over here is way too legit compared to Australia. Here its another business. All the gyms are private and earn big $$ so the way they go about running the gyms is all focussed on retention and growth. But just because Australia works on volunteers and club-based systems, does it mean that retention and growth and ensuring all programs and methods of delivery should not be to a high standard? I think not, but I'm not too sure how many people see it in that way back home. Spent another afternoon immersed in amazing new products and toys developed for gymnastics and it seems amazing how easily I forgot about the power of the 'prop'. These things are waay too good to pass up for any longer and I regret spending an entire summer without using enough.

Found my way to the secret hospitality building which offered free food and booze for congress attendees. I ate my full and peaced out. I spent my time wandering without anyone to talk to so thought best to bus it back to Minneapolis and nap up a storm

National Gymnastics Congress- Minnesota.

elise_wilson — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 12:21:00 GMT

So the stars aligned just so that meant that Camp finished on a Wednesday, we all left on Thursday... Thursday was the first day of a 3-day long National Gymnastics congress... as it just so happened. So without much to do and the thought of just 'being in the neighbourhood' for something which probably comes around once I booked a flight, got a hostel and just decided to see what happens when I made it to the other side.

I did my research a little, found out what was being offered: trade show, Visa National Championships, congress, free food, Hall of Fame awards. I figured there was enough there to make it worth while and so that was that. I arrived in Minneapolis after spending an hour on the tarmac in Philly. Got a taxi. Told the taxi where to go. Argued with the taxi driver because he didn't know where this large important landmark was and didn't know how to find it with his GPS. Told the driver to drive whilst I used his GPS to find where I wanted to go.

Landed at the congress with all my bags. (I purposely packed carry-on style while the rest of my stuff is in Maggie's hands.) Turned 400 dollars into a backpack and a lanyard... the key for the next 3 days. I was so scared and overwhelmed to be there that I was shaking through filling out my registration form. The lady there said I wasn't the only Aussie here. Did I know them? No. Do you recall any of the names? Well yes... 'blah blah' is here and so is 'blah blahblah' Blah Blahblah? Well gosh he's my old gymnastics coach!

Whilst I waited for the last lecture of the day I visited the trade show hall and did a little shmoozing of the equipment retailers and shopped for catalogues for camp and back home. Made it to the last lecture. Spent it learning about warm up games which generally included a costume change. AWESOME.

Zipped out after the lecture, jumped on a random bus around the corner which said Downtown Minneapolis and figured that was around about where I wanted to go to check-in to my hostel. I had studied the map a few times to look at distances and directions, and whilst the main part of town is around 5th and 7th streets my hostel was down down on 24th street, so when I got let off I had a bit of walking to do. It was the night of a Twin Cities game so there was people about. Pedal pub?? and nice weather so i strolled hopefully in the right direction to the Minneapolis International Hostel.

Wait. Where did those 8 weeks go?

elise_wilson — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 11:52:00 GMT

Poof. Summer camp is over.

I ended up spending all waking hours pouring over gymnastics stuff. POP awards, posters, admin, gym show stuff and when I did finally sign-in at 12:55am I dreamed about gymnastics until I woke up and had to do it all again.

Its 4 days since I left camp and by body is giving me the official FU and shutting down all the time. awesome.

As soon as the gym show had ended and all of camp were heading back to get ready for team sing I broke. 7 days a week of hard work for 8 weeks had just been condensed into 60 minutes so I'm not surprised that my body desires some nappidge.

It was definitely not worth the money what I was doing, but if I did any less I don't think I could have lived with myself. I had a goal this summer to do all that it took to improve the program and to have something to show for it and I did so.

Last year I had no intentions of returning. I had my experience and thats all I wanted. When I said yes to coming back as the director I told myself that this too was a once-off. Girl needs to graduate some time soon. Now here I sit. Already invited back for 2012, full of all these great new ideas that I couldn't fit into one summer almost considering dropping everything again just to break-even, interrupt my study, leave my friends, pay empty rent and bugger up working back home and for what?

For those annoying kids. Those kids who came to gymnastics every afternoon it seemed. For the Eliza Ross's and the Sammy Solomons and the Raya Greenbergers and the Talia Schulhofs. For all those kids who couldn't keep still long enough for me to finish a sentence because they were just waaaay too excited. For all those kids who would call out my name over and over like a seagull. For the kids who turned their can'ts into cans. For the kids who trusted me enough to throw them upside down. For all the kids who measured their success in life in getting ticked off for a skill they could perform...

What to do...

Week two

elise_wilson — Sat, 9 Jul 2011 12:02:00 GMT

What gets me down the most is kids that say "I can't". And that this automatically means that "I wont".

How can I give my efforts to a kid that can't trust me and wont believe in themselves?

stressed blessed rant

elise_wilson — Sun, 3 Jul 2011 11:19:00 GMT

I can't begin to describe the feeling of satisfaction witnessing a child learn and improve.

Or seeing a child amaze you when they show you they can do more than what you think they are capable of.

Watching over 200 campers come into gymnastics numerous times a week always wanting to try new things and peering at their award chart and begging to do more its just... intensely immensely overwhelming... now if I could only remember all their names...

I'm still concerned of burnout

I'm still concerned about roles and communication

I'm still concerned about my place and what happens between now and 6 weeks from now.

To the best.worst.hardest.sweatiest.longest.shortest.stressful.fattening.sleepless.heartwrenching 9 weeks of my life thus far.

Week one

elise_wilson — Wed, 29 Jun 2011 12:21:00 GMT

Its been three days since the campers arrived, but it mite as well be 3 weeks. (Totally not in a bad way).

I'm busy making dreams happen in gymnastics. Planning lessons to keep the campers busy, deliberating with the other gymnastics and dance staff, organising paperwork after paperwork after paperwork, tolerating the numerous campers who sign up for gymnastics and complain they can't do anything, dressing up like a retard for Aunt Emmas Auction. Dancing away the night in the rec hall while it thunders outside, scratching my hundredth bug bite, sorting the mountains of laundry after only 3 DAYS OF CAMP!!!

about 50 more days to go....

Counselor orientation

elise_wilson — Mon, 27 Jun 2011 12:50:00 GMT

So I sat at the Ticonderoga "train station" which turned out to be a platform and a 3x3 shelter. I was there from 9am until 4pm when the train decided to come.

I finished my book about the guy with no arms and legs, busily changing the words 'god' to something else and breezing over the bible bashing. Don't get me wrong it was a killer read with some good take-aways, but I was really looking forward to more 'how did I do it' stuff.

Met Sprinkles in Albany and couldn't wait to get back to camp. We caught up on the life and times of Brant Lake the whole hour-long ride. As luck would have it I was in good ol' bunk 27, the same O bunk as last year. Met Sadie in Video and Shell the new dance director. Man it was like I never left camp. Spent the next few days doing as much as one gymnastics director could do without the gym being installed until the Saturday. Met my gymnastics team that night and we have spent the last 7 days working out our summer, but as it goes here, nothing here can be anticipated too early. Posters, plans, folders, lists, all the regular stuff I like to do.

O week was another blast: Breakout, blue team, songs, games, challenges, t-egg in the boat with a raft and a shade, cheers, counselors, movies, stewart's, Inter B's, chicken pesto lunch, pink lemonade, warm cookies and milk...

Nobody can really understand how we roll here. With the dance crew we made a routine to two Run DMC songs, 'Its like that' and 'Tricky' for the Cunselor show . It was pretty damn good. I forgot how good that feeling is to make a kid laugh.

The campers arrived on Saturday and I can safely say its soo much easier second time round. I was never a shit counselor, but knowing what I know now will definitely help me out this year. I know more of the kids, I know what they want to hear, I know what they dont want to hear and Im free to sing and dance and high five all-round. Homesickness is a plague right about now and I feel for the kids and seeing them uncontrollably upset breaks me just a little, but you cant beat that feeling when a camper comes to you for help.

Tomorrow is d-day. Kids in the gym, Me... not. I prepared my two coaches as much as I can while I'm down in the basement scheduling kids into choice periods for gymnastics.

So my bunk is covered with Justins and Taylors and patterned duct tape, my campers are messy and crazy, we get up early, we go to bed late, we eat donuts for breakfast and cookies before bed, we sing a song for every occasion, our director dresses up like lady gaga, the tennis staff are all mexican and we rock it out in the boat house on the lake. I couldnt honestly say Id rather be anywhere else.

All great things come together

elise_wilson — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 05:36:00 GMT

Got the 5pm flight. Pretty much any flight out after that would have severely messed with Mikes plans to smuggle me into Canada for the night to get incredibly rowdy and jig till the sun came up to John Digweed.

So my day after my laptop died consisted of...
xWaiting for the 10am flight, I was the number 11 on-call person.
xWandering aimlessly throughout the A and B concourses. Atleast Detroit had a decent selection of food to choose from. If I was stuck in LAX I wouldn't be so cheery about my situation.
xAttempting to take a nap right out the front of one of the Delta customer service areas downstairs. It was heaps warmer than upstairs. No sleep to comment on.
xCaving and selecting a Wendys chicken sanga to eat to pass time whilst wishfully waiting at the next gate to see if I had a spot... Number 4. Sanga severely lacked mayo
xTrying to nap, shivvering, feeling incredibly awful for myself, looking like a dazed bum to such a degree that a man lent me two of his coats to keep me warm.
xNot getting on the 2pm flight, snorting boogs like there was no tomorrow, moving on to the next departure gate.
xChatting to a couple i'd seen at every gate I was at all day. They too were mucked up wit the cancellation. We decreed that if we did not get on the 5pm flight, we'd be hitting up the Irish bar just across from the gate.
xLast chance getting on the flight after a few people didnt get to the gate in time.
x Flying, wine, stories, good times, Re-uniting with my bag, Re-uniting with Mike

x Driving the way to Montreal.

x Drinking, talking, eating

x Taking the Subway to the city

x Drinking

x Being the token Australian in the girls dunny

x Going to Circus to see John Digweed DJ. Raging Kearns-style with no need to mention details.

x Leaving Circus at 7.30am. Sore, sweaty. Subbing it back to old-quarters

x Sleeping like a fucking angel.

USA FML

elise_wilson — Fri, 10 Jun 2011 23:58:00 GMT

ADEL - AUK - LAX

2 days in Santa Monica. Pretty friggin sweet

LAX - DET - .... Oh what.

11pm flight LAX to Detroit turned out to be a 11.45 departure. This gets me into Detroit with 20 mins before my Burlington flight leaves. Lucky... or not? Burlington gets cancelled. Bad weather.

Right now im in Detroit. My bag is just about to fly to Burlington without me... fuck I wish I was my bag right now.

So here's waiting for the 2pm flight, the 5pm flight and the 10pm flight and the tomorrow flight. FML Detroit.

USA 2.0

elise_wilson — Thu, 2 Jun 2011 13:10:00 GMT

Well, who would have thought I would be saving up the pennies to haul myself back to the states for another summer at the Point.

I can't say it was always easy, but considering the awesome time I had and friends I made I couldn't see myself doing anything else over an Aussie winter... wait... graduate maybe?

So I pulled out the reliable backpack on wheels, stocked up on empty rent money and Vegemite and finish off at work and mash out those last assignments.

This year (and the main bribing point) I will be directing the gymnastics program: lesson plans, ideas, responsibility, accountability, all that grown-up stuff.

Wish me luck!

Hobo first-aid- the concise guide to the uses of masking tape

elise_wilson — Wed, 1 Dec 2010 19:18:00 GMT

After buying masking tape (that sticky stuff that you can also rip easily with your hands) in Mexico for packaging boxes home, I have discovered many uses for the cheap, fibrous binding beyond art and craft use, mostly in the first-aid department.

BANDAID: In Mexico I slashed my toe open on a locker door in the hostel room I was staying at. It hurt and projectiled blood everywhere on the already dirty floor... I have no bandaids, but fear not.

#1- THE MASKING TAPE BANDAID: Step 1: Grab some toilet paper, a square is too much, but a little bit folded makes a good padding/blood sucker upperer. Step 2: The thinnest masking tape is ideal, just wrap that sucker around once, twice for good measure and the great thing is its sticky as fuck and lasts even though showering/beachtime etc.

#2 THE STRAIN/SPRAIN STRAP: For some reason after a big day hiking in San Fran, my right ankle just decided to hurt like fuck (large strain, small sprain feeling, I was drunk when it started, so who knows) Step 1: Tape sometimes hurts on bare skin, so I suggest a cut-open sock for the ankle region (tube sock is best, cut out the toe) and maybe a glove for the wrist region, I dunno. Step 2: If something hurts to move, but is still a little functional (ie you can still walk and you cant see a bone looking at you), then its likely a strain or sprain, and if youre travelling from place to place it's probably hard and useless to see a doctor if theyre probably going to tell you to rest, ice, strap that bitch. Here's the easiest way to strap: The aim of the game is to stop that sucker from moving too much. With the sock in place, pull a length of tape, and start from the bottom of the foot and wrap up and cross over the ankle region. Do a few, this pretty much restricts the pointy flexy motion that its used to. Mix up the crossy over with circles around the ankle to fix in place and maybe a few straight under the foots and up for good measure. This will secure the sucker without any bias rolling your anke in or outwards.

Really professional I know, but until it leaks something weird and smelly or screams at you, its usuallya waste of your time and insurance to be told what you already know. I strapped my ankle for 3 days, whilst still walking around and seeing the sights of LA and San Fran and my ankle is getting better.

Other uses of masking tape so far includes holding down the bottle cap of waters with the useless "sports cap" function which probably bursts in bags and all other poppy open bottles of your bathroom products.

Stay tuned for more exciting and practical uses of masking tape en route...

All the single ladies...

elise_wilson — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 13:49:00 GMT

If someone tells you a place is dangerous, it probably is...

That doesn’t mean you have to miss out by taking their advice.

Get on 'that' bus

Take 'that' taxi

See 'that' landmark

Bein in 'that' area

Be amongst 'those' people

And do it at 'that' time

The arse side of travelling

elise_wilson — Mon, 22 Nov 2010 12:05:00 GMT

I have 6 weeks left on my trip.

I have the lesser side of $2000 Australian dollars to my name

I have the most expensive places yet to visit in the most expensive season with the least amount of accomodation available.

F.U.C.K

FACEBOOK UPDATE

elise_wilson — Sat, 20 Nov 2010 21:07:00 GMT

Elise Wilson: Probably has tetanus, aids and cyphillus after cutting my toe open on the locker door in my cheap dorm in Mexico...

Luckily toilet paper and masking tape fixes EVERYTHING.

Conspiracy theories and the Galapagos

elise_wilson — Sat, 30 Oct 2010 16:40:00 GMT

So after spending 5 days and 4 nights aboard a boat in the Galapagos visiting National Parks, snorkelling and such I have developed some well supported and logical theories about the islands and the animal inhabitants.

1. These animals are all robots and work like clockwork 24/7. Our guide scheduled our activities to destinations specifically because the animals were doing their rounds at very specific times. It was ridiculous how non-chance sightings were and how well-timed their appearances were during each hike and dive.

2. The animals are all paid very well and during the “bad season” are holidaying on a beach in Australia.

3. The animals have grown up with people shoving cameras in their faces that they have become quite vein and take every opportunity to show their “good side” for the paparazzi. It was always very difficult for the last animals of each hike as we had seen already 5, 10 or many of them in the last half-hour that they were just old news by then. This supports some earlier theories that as soon as you land on the beach you are overwhelmed by a wave of many animals hoping to get in first with the photo sessions.

4. The Galapagos is in-fact the real version of Pokemon, where one travels from island to island trying to catch as many animals (on camera) as possible. At the end there’s a gigantic party with Professor Garrisson, Brock, Misty and the entire crew.

5. The animals of the Galapagos are infact all delicately taxidermied puppets now and are held-upright by sticks and fishing line.

So after 5 days aboard the Yolita II, and seeing the millionth sea lion and millionth and one sea iguana I have high-regards to the islands, but have so many peculiar findings about the place. The animals were either blind, or just really didn’t care that hundreds of people were coming up to them each day and shoving a camera in their face. Even stranger was that they could not move or budge for no-one and having to walk around them on the trails was common occurrence.

I never got my sea legs, so if I wasn’t eating the amazing food onboard, snorkelling with the fish and turtles or trekking another island you’d most definitely find me curled up in a ball in bed waiting for it to all be over. Yep, just like the moving car, bus, plane or train, boats make me queasy and muy cansado.

The Yolita itself had a 9-man crew including a chef who looked like a chef and treated us very well with 3-course lunches and dinners, an over-zealous waiter and an incredibly passionate naturalist guide named Washington, who, without him, the trip would have been quite different. I bunked with the lovely Rahel, mi amiga from Montanita which made things much much easier and Chris and his friend Chris joined the boat at the last minute. Yes my circa $1500 5-day trip was muy caro, but I was in the best of company that was a once-only opportunity. Yolita is actually one of the mire ‘high-end’ options for Galapagos travel, but being very last-minute I got a good deal which is probably half the pre-booked price.

I did have a very pre-mature dread of the trip when our naturalist guide for the first day was an absolute tripper and couldn’t even remember the animal’s names without referencing his book. He emphasised his sentences in such a way that he really just sounded like a complete jerk, but thankfully he was just there for a day. Washington was something else, and had been in the business for 20 years. He knew all the secrets of the islands and really wanted everyone to see everything and enjoy their time. I would have struggled to feel the same way about my trip without Washington around. On our last night as a crew on town in Santa Cruz, some girls that Chris knew told of their Galapagos trip. They were on a similar-range boat, but with their guide, the most excitement they told of was swimming with one sea lion and seeing a turtle in the water from the beach. Yes, somehow Washington was a real animal whisperer or had the keys to the islands or something. Washington was also a connoisseur of animal noises. He knew them all. Our second wake-up call consisted of a half-hour-long, individualised song-dedication to each member of the Yolita (Yellow Submarine for me) and random animal noises like the blue-footed boobie, albatross, sea lion, tropical elephant.. This guy….seriously…

So embarking on our first trek for the trip everyone was amazed and snapping away at all the new animals (crabs, marine iguanas, a bird), without the later realisation that these animals are freaking everywhere. I didn’t last 24 hours before becoming completely short-tempered when told to “look, look, OMG look at the animal on the side of the boat, on the island in the distance, flying in the sky, you have to see what I am seeing, even if you saw it 5 minutes ago, even if you’ve seen 20 already you NEED to see it”. FUCK. I have eyes and the Galapagos is freaking amazing, but I couldn’t really care less about the 50^th sea lion you can see.

The quality and quantity of animals in the Galapagos can not be denied, but one realisation I did come to was that really… there’s not that many (compared to Australia). In saying this I realise many other countries may not be as fauna-rich and also lack in marine-life. The Galapagos is for the most-part based around its marine-life. Everything lives in the ocean, eats from the ocean or lives there because of the ocean. Sea turtles, crabs, fish, sharks, marine iguanas, birds, all that sorta stuff. What’s left on the land is more birds, land iguanas, the going tortoise (which I only saw in captivity). I appreciate Australia so much now when realising I can see as much at home as the Galapagos (ample lizards, dolphins, seals, snakes, birds, and more (koalas, roos and such) with out much effort. What was great was unlike Australia, nothing there wanted to eat you. The sharks and rays were as harmless as kittens (although that didn’t stop me from having Steve Irwin flash-backs every time there was mention or sighting of rays). One dive included Washington pulling out a shark from a rocky cove on the sea bed and following a sea lion around just to realise the sea lion was following a shark. Yep, everyone’s good friends here in the Galapagos.

With my poor research (and when I say poor, I mean I told Manuel I wanted to go to the Galapagos and besides that I did nothing but hand over my money), I didn’t know the rare people species existed in the Galapagos: In fact many people call the Galapagos home on several islands. Good to know.

Another thing I found weird was the snorkelling. Often Washington would know of a sure spot to see a different creature, or after spotting one would quickly call for everyone to snorkel over and see it. I felt as lame as being on a seugway tour of a city, but, I did see some wicked shit down there. What pissed me off the most was if there was a cool animal doing its thing (turtle, sea lion), a few would sprint-snorkel over to it thrashing legs and arms to get in first. Seriously. Personal space. I felt dorky snorkelling and continuously wonder why Chanel or Calvin Klein havent burst into designer snorkelling goggles yet.

On our last snorkel for the trip, after swimming so much without much as a few shiny fish I was getting pretty cold and decided to call it a day and warm up on shore. Practicing my amazing freestyle technique made incredibly easy with the scuba gear and flippers to the beach I happen upon a sea turtle, AMAZING. The turtle was massive and was just keen to do its thing and blob around eating algae. It was amazing seeing this guy in action and is definitely one of my top memories of the trip.

I could give a day-by-day, blow-by-blow, but all one really needs to know about the Galapagos is its best by boat, best with an amazing guide and theres plenty of amazing things to see. From an Australian’s perspective, everything here is the same but different. Different as in it wont run away from you and you’ll probably only have one chance to see it.

The Galapagos is slowly, but surely bound for complete and total destruction. (Stuff about volcanoes and plates and stuff which sees all the islands burning and sinking into a watery grave). If you want to see what all the fuss is about, go. You wont regret it and you’ll learn a load, see some shiz and have a ball.