Family Jewels

Before you report me, it’s not what you’re thinking!

Two weeks ago, pre-6am, I waved a salty goodbye to my sisters and cousin as their taxis whipped them away into Melbourne’s inky morning. Steve and I had spent the last 21 days with them, hurtling through Australia’s famous Outback in a tin can on wheels, and living to tell about it. But it turned out to be so much more than a vacation, an adventure or a bunch of photo opportunities. I think it really exposed all of us to the value of family and just how lucky we are that we also happen to be friends. I guess a good old-fashioned road trip will do that to you.

The girls all arrived in Melbourne and our tiny apartment instantly imploded on itself with suitcases, air mattresses, sleeping bags, towels, and a whole lineup of footwear. There were literally paths along the floor where we had to travel along; I think that’s what it must be like to live in an anthill. Anyway. Living in a studio apartment with 5 people might seem tricky, but it was good practice for the weekend, when we would all pile into a camper van for a little over two weeks.

I can only explain the hilarity of the camper in this way: whenever we would pull up to a campsite and pile out like clowns out of a circus car, some curious soul would always approach us for a friendly chat, which, without fail, at some point led to “So, how many of you ARE there?” or “Where do you all sleep!?” We fascinated people – and not only for being able to live in closer-than-close quarters, but even more so because our outfit consisted of 1 guy and 4 girls. When people found that out, their reply usually was, “lucky bloke!” to which I would respond, “we’re all related.”

 I could write a novel about all of the things we did, but then you might stop reading my blog, so I’ll just highlight a few things that glitter in my memory.

So many times on the trip (and afterwards for that matter) we would ask each other – “what was your favourite part/day/place?” None of us could ever really answer. All of the experiences were unique and hold different sentiments for everyone. Some quick-draw ones for me include:

• Riley making homemade Calzones and baking them over the fire at Standley Chasm.

Cheesy perfection!

Makin' dough

The coals were the key!

• Playing beer pong in an underground hotel in Coober Pedy.

• Free camping under a lighthouse in Portland, and stepping out to see the night sky awash with stars and a milky trail, being rhythmically pulsated with the lighthouse beams.
• Meeting a retired farming couple whom we shared our mulled wine with by the fire, and in return were gifted with a jar of the wife’s homemade tomato relish
• Meeting yet another retired couple and teaching them the card game of “A-hole” at a camp ground in Alice Springs, rounding off the night with some of their delicious French-pressed coffee

• Seizing victory over Steve in a round-robin tournament of a ridiculous paddle & ball game we invented with backdrop scenery of the native forest and craggily escarpment of the Flinders Ranges.
• Renting a 5-person pedal bike in Clare valley and  taking it on a wine tour, in the rain!
• Making Canada proud by faithfully donning every scrap of red and white that we owned, eating poutine and riding an electronic bull on July 1^st in Adelaide 

I could go on, but I would like to expand on a few of the experiences that I think we all hold close to us. I think one of the first outstanding memories was really our first night in the Outback. We had been travelling along our merry way, and chatted to some folks at a rest stop about places to camp. They suggested Lake Hart, a free camping spot just off of the highway.

When we pulled our van into the place, we realized instantly how magical it was. The lake itself was stunning, imbedded in the rusty earth of the ‘red centre.’ We rocked up just before sunset, and made our way down to the water to snap a photo or two. When we reached the shore, we quickly noticed the frosting of salt that the sand dunes were capped with. At the water’s edge, we understood that it was a natural salt lake; the mineral had cemented itself in ripples under the shallow water as far out as we could see. We all tasted some of the natural seasoning and Kacy and I took our shoes off and got right amongst it. I think this may sound underwhelming to anyone reading, but I assume we all thought this was spectacular, not only for the view, but that we were fresh on our journey into the desert, and happened upon this scenery by pure chance. Don’t you think that sometimes things are more enjoyable because you didn’t expect them?

Something we did expect to be awe-inspiring was one of the main reasons we drove 2,324 kms towards ‘nothing’ in the first place - Uluru. Ayre’s Rock, as it is also called, is an Aboriginal dreaming place of the Anangu people, a peculiar sandstone formation in the Uluru-Kata Tjuta National Park. We pulled up to the Sunset viewing area and made dinner in our portable-home as the sun dipped and painted Uluru in many different shades; glowing orange, copper, white and brown before it faded into the night.  

The next day our team assembled at the crack of dawn and set out to hike the neighbouring Kata Tjuta (the Olgas) rock formation and then secondly, the base walk at Ayres. In all, it was nearly a day of ~20km of hiking, however well worth the humbling feeling of nature in some of her grandest forms. Admittedly, we were all a little thirsty as we rounded the last bend of the walk, and celebrated our travels with a traditional Australian bevvy in a traditional Canadian style.

Kata Tjuta 

The last experience I want to highlight was our encounter with a fleet of Kangaroos. The entire trip, we had only borne witness to some unlucky marsupials lying on the shoulders of the highway. Many people had warned us not to drive at dawn or dusk to avoid totaling our car on the Australian icon – however we had seen nary a one. I even began to think all of the ‘Kangaroo Crossing’ signs had been put up for tourists to take pictures of.  Finally, our persistence was awarded when we curled into the folds of the Flinders Ranges. While pulling up to our campsite for the eve, we began sighting the ‘roos everywhere! Cruising up to a field, our eyes nearly glassed over; in front of us, hardly 10 meters away, grazed an uncountable number! We turned off the van and whispered excitedly to each other as our camera shutters clicked and captured the peaceful moment. We even noticed some of the ‘roos had joeys, leaning out of their pouches to munch a few wisps of grass as well. Two young fellows started testing out their boxing skills; we giggled as they stood on their tails and tried to get a good kick in. Of course, eventually we got a little too close and they bounced cheerily away into the hills.

How many can you spot?

After the Ranges, we continued on our journey back in to Melbourne and arrived in the dark and the rain on Saturday night. The girls flew home in the following days and Steve and I returned to our grown-up lives. Back to business as usual. The grunt work, the grind, the rat race; scraping up some more savings for the next big adventure. But if I can share with you what I learned on this trip (other than, you have to keep up with blogging) was that the run-of-the-mill stuff is what makes those times so much better. And I couldn’t have picked 4 better people to do it with. I want to say thank you to Steve, Riley, Kacy and Heather for combining your effort, humour, patience and love to make our endeavor an epic one. You truly are my family jewels, and I wouldn’t trade you for alllllll the opals in Coober Pedy!

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!

Thank Your Lucky Stars

We all find that from time to time, those cliché sayings come spilling out of our mouths. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,“ Sharp as a tack,” or “Back off, get your own sandwich!” Most of the time we don’t even notice when we use these sayings, since the commonality of them seems daily. Other times, you might catch the roll of someone’s eyes, or a polite chuckle from your ‘witty’ remark.

But did you ever stop to actually think about these quotes? So simple, yet so true. In fact, these old adages have the ability to completely encompass an entire situation, feeling, or intention in one short phrase.  They are overused for a reason – sometimes it’s the simplest way to get your message across.

Before I slip back into my old Bachelor of Arts essay-writing groove, I’ll get to the point. Steve and I have just recently experienced a cliché that we couldn’t be more stoked about.

Good things come to those who wait.

No, I’m not talking about the 6 years it took us to get engaged! This past weekend, the phrase took on a whole new meaning. Let’s back up.

Our micro-apartment does not have a kitchen table. “Big whoop,” you say, “you live in Australia, suck it up.” But honestly, I dare you – try living without one. Even Honey-Boo-Boo’s family has a kitchen table. Steve and I have resorted to eating our meals with our butts parked on the couch and our plates on the coffee table. Shoulders hunched, leaning over our meals, our spines started to curve permanently into the shape of elbow macaroni. I started to be self conscious in public that I was slouching like Quasimodo. We had agreed that once we were working enough, that we would buy a table to eat at, but it had now been 3 months of TV dinners. Enough was enough. We were going to find a table.

 On Sunday we went to the Camberwell Market on our quest against kyphosis. The market was really interesting – a mix of vintage meets garage sale meets crafts meets antiques. We’ll definitely be going back to score some treasures, but we didn’t find an affordable kitchen table. Strike One.

From there, we rejuvenated ourselves (me with a flat white, Steve with a hot dog), and missioned across town to the People’s Market in Collingwood. After being slightly lost for quite a while, we finally stumbled in through the arty gates and discovered a really cool atmosphere smothered in hipsters – but aside from the Ninja-Lime-Mayo on our shoestring fries, there wasn’t much product to peruse. Strike Two. Defeated, we schlepped home to hover over dinner.

That’s when I had a light bulb moment. Walking to work on Saturday, I had seen a small table amongst ripped out carpets and other odd-angled debris. I insisted that we go and check it out – but Steve was feeling the effects of the long day on public transit and opted to stay home. Ye have little faith! (Another one of those pesky clichés!) Stubborn as I am, I set out to see if that little table would do. Some may call it desperate.

Of course, the table was gone. But along the way, I had spotted many piles of trash that resembled furniture. In the back of my mind, I remembered that Melbourne has “Hard Rubbish Day” on the last Sunday of every month. A chance for everyone to throw out their old toasters, infested couches, and perfectly good kitchen tables.

Yep, that’s right. I went routing around the neighbourhood right alongside a white-haired matron with a shopping trolley, knocking elbows with her for the good trash. When I was just about to give up, I spotted it - I couldn’t believe my eyes. A table! A table of sturdy nature, clean, and matching our décor to boot! I couldn’t believe our good fortune, and swooped in. Immediately, I frowned at the weight of it. There was no way I could get this table home by myself. To make thing worse, I had left my cell phone at home.

Should I hide it and come back with Steve? Too risky.

Should I knock on the door and ask to borrow the phone? Too pathetic.

As a slow panic set in over the possible loss of my new treasure, I spotted a shopping cart alongside the road. It was going to be embarrassing, but it needed to be done.  I hoisted the table on top of the cart and started to wheel it home. Not an easy feat. Of course, the cart had wonky wheels, so that it kept pulling to the right. I had to cross the street at traffic lights, and roll over uneven pathways and cobblestone. As ashamed as I was, I resolved not to look anywhere but straight ahead. If I caught anyone’s shocked or disapproving eye, I might shrivel up and abandoned the mission. Stupidly determined, I pushed on.

We made it home, the table and I. Triumph! I was grinning from ear to ear as I showed Steve our free table (well, it only cost the small price of my dignity). We shined it up and rearranged the apartment to encompass the new addition. Now if we only had chairs…

Without drawing this saga out into Lord of the Rings proportions, we found an ad for 4 black Ikea chairs on the internet; when we contacted the lady about their condition she replied “If you want to come pick them up, you can have them for free.” The stars had aligned!!

It was another mini-mission, taking the chairs on the bus – but as we were walking down the street towards home with our prize, that saying popped into my head: Good things come to those who wait. And it really did!  Sometimes I could not be more surprised by the simple generosity of ordinary people or the uncanny twist of fate that the universe throws at us. Maybe we all have to struggle a little in order to really appreciate when good things happen to us.

We could not be more pleased with our new setup – bon appetite!