Life's a Beach

Zen Sharks

When you fly into the town, your eyes scrape across the arid desert countryside – catching on scraggly bush, rocky outcroppings, and dusty sheep. And then, in complete contrast, you’ll hit the ocean. Clear and bright azure, the Pacific poignantly outlines the edges of Australia – you’ve come to Exmouth.

Steve and I arrived in this mysterious, far-removed place on Friday afternoon. On the shuttle ride from the airport into the small outcropping of buildings that calls itself a town, I could barely stifle a laugh. Gone is the North American ideal of a perfectly manicured lawn. In fact, despite some beautiful housing, the place comes off like it’s a perpetual construction site. Quite simply, it’s all hot and beach and no one really bothers to kick a stray rock off their property or trim a few random patches here and there. Exmouth doesn't pretend to be anything. No one is keeping up with the Jones’ and you deal with what the land gives you. What’s beautiful is that everyone seems content.

Try as I might, I probably won’t be able to explain the vibe to you. You’ll just have to go there.

Anyway, our story begins here; this desolate yet comfortably happy town.  Checking into the Potshot Hotel Resort was sort of like picking up the keys to your new place in the shantytowns of Tijuana. The backpacker rooms were basically a large rectangular tin shed dissected into separate compartments. Dirt, tin, sunshine. We were missing beer. Quickly picking up a 30 pack of Emu Lager, we settled out front of room #80 to relax.

This night was an early one because we had a monumental day planned for the next. We slept with the lullaby of party raging backpackers sending us into an anticipation-charged sleep.

Then Saturday, we swam with whale sharks.

I’m finding it hard to give this experience justice as well; such a special, particular event that I can’t compare norms to. I can’t think of anything that relates, because there is nothing. I can only try to tell you about the buzz that is running through your body as you leap off the back of a boat into the deep blue ocean to swim with a giant. I can only scrape the surface of describing how it takes your breath away when you see it emerge from the murky plankton filled sea and appear, as if in a dream, into the frame of your snorkel mask.  And the only way I can compare swimming with the spotty sharks is with that of meditation. Their slow, easy sashay pretty much entrances you as you tour alongside for a little while – forgetting any and every trouble in the world, forming your mind around the simplicity of life itself and the beauty that nature extends to us. You just have to pay attention once and a while.

Our journey home was exhausting; we were shuttled back into harsh reality when we took the red eye flight

Live for the moment

from Perth back to Melbourne and arrived at 4 am with a whole work day looming ahead. Yet, all the while: sleeping on the airport floor, slurping a coffee on the train, groggily trying to teach music all day – life seemed a little readjusted. There is such magnificence and goodness, not only in our daily lives, but especially in the extraordinary experiences we have. So often we let this magic drain from our memories too quickly. I think we need to savour it. Marinate in that special feeling it gives to us, hold it close for a while, and bring it up to the surface when the mundane and routine phases of life dull our days. 

Perhaps the whole experience wasn't just a touristy occasion - maybe there’s a lesson here we can all learn from.

Oh, and whale sharks smile. 

Have a fabulous day, friends J ! 

Crocodile Rock

Well somewhere between March and May, I got swept up in life and literally had no time to dedicate to this blog. The short version of my excuse goes like this:

Now that's a good Friday

After a massive, legendary Good Friday BBQ for Easter, I worked all weekend and somehow managed to contract Strep Throat. I remained on the couch for 4 days, and once I peeled myself off of it, went straight back to work. Shortly thereafter, Steve’s parents paid us a visit! We did all sorts of fabulous things, and were busy every waking moment. We even flew up to Darwin in the Northern Territory – an attempt at some R&R – only to return back to Melbourne on a Sunday night with my first week of being a “real” teacher to follow.

Which brings us to the here and now. The first moment I have had to reach back out to Canada, and fill you in on life down under. I feel the need to recap some of the extraordinary events of the past few months to allow for a proper catch up. If you are content with the short version, stop reading here and catch me on the next entry. If you have nothing else to do with your life, please, read on!

The Crocodile:

It was so great to see some familiar faces (and accents!) on this side of the world when Billie and Lucy came to visit. Our North American quartet hit the streets of Melbourne running; touring St. Kilda, Fitzroy, Prahran, and the CBD all in just 3 days. Throw eating, sleeping and shopping in there and that’s what the Aussie’s like to call “chock-a-block!”

Heading North, we cruised up to Darwin and into the 35 degree weather! Since Melbourne has officially translated itself into Autumn, Steve and I couldn’t have been happier than to have one last ditch effort at preserving our tans!

A spicy night

One highlight of the Darwin trip was a Thai dinner we had on the first night. It was one of those “authentic” places, where they have lounge pillows on the floor and really short tables to sit at. Of course, they had proper sized tables as well, but that’s like going out for sushi and eating it with a fork. Steve, Lucy and I immediately opted for the floor. 6’5” Bill, however, probably had other ideas. He played a good sport and didn’t complain once about having to tangle up his limbs in order to sit down with us. The flavourful food, weightiness of the heat, the wine, and the good company all combined to keep me giggling all the way back to the hotel.

One great day rolled into another as we set off on a “Wallaroo Tour.” Now – Steve and I aren’t usually fans of tour buses, but it seemed like the only way you could safely get up close and personal with the wild and hefty crocs of Darwin. They’re everywhere, people! I’m talkin’ – you can’t go swimming in anything that’s not man-made because you’ll get eaten like Hook in Peter pan.  (Though, because of this, we also spent a lovely afternoon acting like children in a wave pool by the sea).

The tour began at the crack of dawn; we got picked up by a 20-seater at the hotel and headed out to the Adelaide River. Ben, our crusty yet lovely guide, informed us that the last croc-census that was done on the river calculated that 2000 estuarine beasts live in that one body of water alone. He proved it to us by tying the carcasses of chickens onto a pole and dangling them above the reptiles. Those leather lizards thrashed their way high into the air for that chicken – had we wanted to, we could have reached out and touched them. Luckily, no one on our tour got any ideas.

 

Piling back into the van, we were chauffeured to wondrous sights in Litchfield National Park, such as the magnetic termite mounds, waterfalls, and croc-less swimming holes. The secluded and unspoiled places to swim really made me feel like we were seeing the raw Australia. At Florence Falls, the water was so clear that you could see to the bottom, and rather large fish would swim lazily around your ankles. I swam behind the falling water just to get the real taste of the NT.

 

The tour finished off with prawns and champagne at sunset, and our time with Billie and Lucy drew to a close. We said our sleepy goodbyes on a Sunday morning and boarded the plane back to Melbourne. Massive hugs and kisses to those guys!

 

The Rock:

There’s just so much to say about teaching that I won’t torture you with the details. The school I have had the pleasure of winning a 6 month contract with is on the fringes of Melbourne, right on the water. As I walk through the surrounding neighbourhood, I can see the ocean at the end of the streets. There is sand on the playground. There are ice cream parlours and  masts and sails. It’s such a lovely place, that it must rub off on the families. The children who attend the school are helpful, positive and respectful. They’re so respectful that most teachers go by their first names – I go by ‘Jill.’ It has such a personal feel to it. Don’t even get me started on the staff, they’re so fabulous I already feel indebted to them.

 Aside from all the sunshine and rainbows, teaching is damn hard. Actually, I will rephrase; teaching is fun. Planning, marking, professional learning, researching, making resources, attending meetings, learning report card systems, booking performances, running extracurriculars, assemblies, learning 500+ names and doing yard duty is hard. At the end of the day today I went to the washroom, and as I sat there I realized ‘This is the first time I’ve peed today.’  Graphic maybe, but the honest truth.

I am loving the whole experience, but I am able to say that I am very excited about Steven and I’s upcoming swimming-with-whale-shark extravaganza in mid-May. Stay tuned for that one!