The Start of Something Good...

I get inspired easily—a bit of Alison Krauss music on my iPod, a Piet Mondrian painting at the Guggenheim, a modern dance piece on So You Think You Can Dance—and that’s it! I’ve discovered my life’s true calling. I take up singing, buy blank canvases, and browse Capezio for cute dance shoes.

But more often than not, with these big ideas, comes poor follow-through. The excitement fades, the planning stops, and I return to my norm (whatever that is) and declare to resume these various fantasies when I have more time.

At the inception of The Australia Plan (or lack thereof), I wondered if this too was going to be one of those things I wanted so desperately to do but just couldn’t fit together with my life. But for some reason or another, it wasn’t. And somehow, I’m here.

It was Allison who first inspired me to run a race, when she completed the CIBC Run for the Cure in Montreal in freshman year. A family friend, Dawn, had recently lost a fierce battle with breast cancer, and I thought it would be nice to inscribe her name on my number tag for the race. But my economics course was intent on kicking my butt—or at least that was the excuse I came up with at the time—and I said I would surely make time the following year. (I didn’t.)

Living here, in Australia, I have no norm to return to, no time constraints to consider, no excuses to place in my way.

So, when I found out the local Lululemon was starting a beginner run group to train for the 8k Mother's Day Classic in May, I was there that first Saturday morning at 9am. And when the tram cars were re-routed last weekend to attend to the Australian Grand Prix, and I had to walk the four kilometers to and from training, I hauled my tired butt up Fitzroy Street (and saw F1 driver Lewis Hamilton on the way!).

Although I have to fight a battery of excuses that cloud my head when I wake each Saturday morning (I could skip this week, just once… I didn’t get enough sleep last night, I shouldn’t over exert myself…), I look forward to seeing familiar faces, to jogging with a group of chatty girls almost entirely clad in Lulu gear (I’m a bit of a sore thumb with my Target tank top and Adidas track shorts, but what can you do…).

And on May 9^th, at six in the morning (gasp! that's early.) I will follow through. I will finally run a race for breast cancer research and for myself, in memory of Dawn.

UPDATE
After chatting with my mum this morning, I learned that another family friend, Alison, has just been released from the hospital after a double. mastectomy. These next few months are bound to be both physically and emotionally turbulent, but the doctors were able to remove all of the cancer, which is wonderful news. My thoughts are with her and her family, and I hope she makes a speedy recovery!

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The Great Ocean Road, L’Ultimo Capitolo (The Last Chapter)

The beautiful, breathtaking Twelve Apostles.

When they were first discovered, they were affectionately called “Sow and Piglets” (the big one – Loch Ard Gorge – was the sow, and the smaller stacks were the piglets), but their name was changed in the 1950s.

Not all twelve remain today. Time passes as time is known to do, and the constant battery of wind, water and rain cause the limestone pillars to fall.

But just as the violent ocean erosion brings these colossal columns to their knees, it continuously carves and crafts new Apostles out of the winding, ever-changing coastline.

Our first stop along the Twelve Apostles was Port Campbell, and our tour guide Clancy announced that there would be a special tour discount price for helicopter rides, if anyone was interested.

I thought a helicopter ride sounded awfully decadent. I don’t need to spend money to buzz around these beautiful rocks – I can see them just fine from here!

Oh, how wrong was I…

Curtis, Becky and I finally decided to splurge because, hey, I might only get this one chance, right? Except, from the moment that wobbly copter floated off the ground and long after it had hovered back to safety 15 minutes later, I knew it would not be my last flight.

But I’m getting ahead of myself!

First let me introduce our handsome pilot.

Swoon… I have a thing for dimples. But for anyone who has ever seen Curtis, that’s old news.

But I snapped out of it, I had pictures to take! And miles of coastline to absorb and inhale. A sweet and stunning breath.

Curtis snapped a few beautiful close-ups from the front seat.

All too soon after we had drifted up, up, up and away, we descended through the clouds and floated back down to the landing pad. As we squeezed out of the tiny cab, my body was buzzing.

Here I am, apparently trying to swallow the sky.

I was jumping up and down with adrenaline, and struggling to speak over the roar of the chopper and the wave of my excitement. I yelled spastically back to Becky.

That was! One of the coolest things! I have ever done!

Our bodies still humming with happiness, we piled back into the van and headed to our two final tour stops, the Loch Ard Gorge and the London Bridge.

Alas, as the sun descended upon the horizon, we began our journey back to the city, salty and tired, but oh, so incredibly happy.

A few days later, we were forced to say goodbye to Dave, Nicola, Becky and Hinnerk. (I suppose that's what I get for bonding with backpackers!) But, at the risk of sounding cliché, we will always have the memories...

Lots of love,

the traveling stahr...

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The Great Ocean Road, Partie Deux

Now where was I…?

Oh yea! Before we knew it, the grey and orange clouds were upon us. [Jaws music, etc, etc…]

We were plunged into an orange fog, and I’m sorry to say I was far too intrigued to take any pictures… It was like flying amidst sepia-toned clouds, minus the altitude. Before we knew it, we were on the other side. And not ten minutes later? Was this:

The next stop was something I’d been looking forward to since Clancy announced it that morning – a koala park! Nice shades, Curtis the Koala... teehee...

Did you know koalas are one of the few species in Australia that has virtually ceased evolving due to a lack of predators? (Though, this is not to ignore the fact that they are very much endangered by diseases and urban expansion.) Koalas subsist on a diet entirely of eucalyptus leaves, which contain 70 percent water and virtually no nutritional value. That's why they are so lazy!

We were lucky to find a koala perched in a low tree, and I was able to get surprisingly close.

This is me with my koala friend. He needs to learn a thing or two about friendship, because last time I checked, friends didn’t let friends wear white bras under black dresses.

All throughout the koala park, beautiful, vibrantly colored parrots dotted the lush green and brown trees. And if you had food (I borrowed a handful off another tourist), they would swoop down and eat right off your hand! Not a good place to be if you were recently freaked out by the movie Birds.

After the koala park we piled back into the bus and headed to our next stop, a lovely beach town, for our picnic lunch.

Next stop: the rainforest! Now I’ve seen big trees before, at the Redwood Forests in San Francisco, but I’m telling you, this rainforest had BIG TREES. Exhibit A:

And keep in mind, by "regular size tree," I mean the kind you can barely wrap your arms around.

Having worked in the forest–or bush, as he calls it–for much of his life, Curtis has seen a lot of trees. But these big guys had him stumped. (Sorry for the terrible pun... it was too bad good to pass up.) Here are Curtis and I, being dwarfed by phenomenally huge trunks.

After the rainforest we headed to what had to be the most breathtaking, beautiful string of stops on the trip, the Twelve Apostles. I’m smiling just thinking about them (and the absolutely exhilarating, body-buzzing helicopter ride we took above them). Here’s a sneak preview:

Bye for now!

the traveling stahr… 

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I Heart Faces (Focusing on Angles)

I've been following i heart faces for quite a while now, and I've finally mustered up the courage to enter one of their weekly photo challenges!

This week's theme is "Focusing on Angles." Here goes...

If you want to see more angles, head to i heart faces - there are so many incredible entries.

♥,

the traveling (and picture-taking!) stahr...

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The Great Ocean Road, Part 1

You might remember I won a limbo contest at a bar about a month ago. The prize was a day trip down the Great Ocean Road and, having never heard of the GOR before, I had little expectations. After all, it was a limbo competition. At a bar. Don’t they usually just hand out free t-shirts for stuff like that?

Well, Becky, Hinnerk, Curtis and I headed out (at 6:30am… grumble, grumble) on the road trip last Tuesday, and let me tell you, it was wayyyy better than a free t-shirt, early start and all.

We stayed up way too late the night before to watch our roommate play at an open mic night in St Kilda. Because James was playing, they gave us a $50 bar tab and 2 for 1 drink specials which, unfortunately thankfully didn't go very far between seven people. He sang really well, but the guitarist who was accompanying him kept throwing him off by switching up the tempo of the song and then laughing about it. It was vair, vair annoying, and Becky and I may or may not have yelled “Give him back the guitar!” a few times…

He finally got the hint.

Anyways, after only about four hours of sleep we awoke the next morning and groggily walked to the pick-up location. When we boarded the bus, I recognized the Haitian guy who was sitting towards the back, strumming angelically on his guitar.

“Hey! You played at Base Bar last night, right? I have a million pictures of you!” Which doesn’t make me sound like a stalker at all, no.

He laughed, told me his name was Nikerson, and gave me his website so that I could send him some of the pics. Turns out he’s a bit of a world-wide star, and is tentatively scheduled to play in Montreal as part of Les FrancoFolies next year. I’ll try to get more details so those of you in Montreal can go see him!

He played us a few tunes, including a fantastic impression of Celine Dion, and we were off, racing out of the city opposite the early morning rush-hour traffic. After a small nap, we awoke to find that we were driving towards… a forest fire? Hmm...

As I'm sure you know, forest fires are extremely common (and destructive) in Australia. Our tour guide/bus driver Clancy told us how the GOR has been completely wiped out quite a few times, which was not all that reassuring as we headed toward this wall of smoke.

Clancy switched on the radio and we were soon informed that there would be some “controlled fires” (oxymoron?) going on in the area today.

Clancy giggled into the microphone. “Well, let’s hope this is one of them!”

We made a quick scenic stop at the famous surfer haven, Bells Beach, to stretch our legs and take a few photos. Despite the possible impending doom, it was a beautiful, warm, and perfect day. 

Here I am with Hinnerk, Curtis, Nikerson and Becks.

We continued driving and Clancy pointed out a funny house along the road. Apparently the owner got so sick of rebuilding his place after a forest fire (to which he lost three houses!) that he decided to build something that was untouchable to the fiercest roaring flames. And after the deadly fire of 1985, his was the only house that remained standing.

Despite its obvious lack of style, this one-bedroom popsicle sold for a whopping four million dollars last year.

Next we stopped at a WWI memorial, or rather, the memorial for a WWI memorial, as the first statues had been destroyed in the fire of ’85. The whole Great Ocean Road was actually a government initiated project designed to provide work for the thousands of jobless soldiers returning from battle. Curtis decided to give them a hand.

After snapping a few pictures, we were back on the road, and getting ever closer to the menacing hedge of smoke. Before we knew it, the grey and orange clouds were upon us. [Cue dramatic Jaws music]

… to be continued… 

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Four Seasons in One Day

To be fair, we had been well-warned of the temperamental nature of Melbourne’s weather. The joke amongst locals – and others in the know – is that only in this city can you experience all four seasons in the span of a day.

You can rise to find a spring morning, flowers waking up and shaking off the fine layer of dew that can settle overnight. An hour passes and the wind can pick up and suddenly it’s autumn and the leaves are falling, spinning all around you. Around noon the sun can be so hot and the beaches so full of brown bodies and it becomes summer, the best summer you’ve ever tasted. But bring a jumper (a sweater) to dinner because as soon as night falls, the air can turn crisp and cold and wintry.

The weather is not always unpredictable; some days a warm summer breeze embraces you and carries you through morning, noon, and night. Nevertheless, it is always good to come prepared.

Though I don’t think even the locals could have predicted the weather last weekend, as thousands flocked to the city for the yearly Moomba Festival.

Curtis, James, Nicola and I arrived in the CBD and headed in the direction of the festival to meet up with Becky, Dave and Hinnerk. Along the way we passed this little guy grooving to Michael Jackson hits. I’d say he was earning a fair bit more than his weekly allowance.

The breeze was warm, the clouds were spaced out in the light blue sky, and bubbles from a nearby bubble-maker floated in the air. It was a totally normal summer’s day.

But in a matter of minutes, clouds began racing over from the horizon, and the skies grew dark and ominously green.

Noon looked like night and the lights from the train station across the river illuminated in reaction to the sudden change in the day’s brightness. And then a wall of rain began to fall. Except it wasn’t rain. It was loud, golf-ball sized hail. And OUCH it hurt when it came barreling down on my head.

We ducked for cover under patio umbrellas, but the hail chased after us, falling not only from the sky but also horizontally, like little baseballs batted by the howling winds.

Before too long you couldn’t see over the Yarra River. You couldn’t even see fifteen feet in front of you.

The sidewalks looked like small lakes.

And groups of BMX bikers, having realized that their festival competition was most certainly over for the day, headed back from the carnival grounds, wet and disappointed.

Look at the size of this hail!

We finally met up with the others and took refuge in a nearby Irish Pub. Here’s Hinnerk. He got a bit stranded and had to wade through the lake/sidewalk to get to us. Anything for a pint, right?

After we emerged from P.J. O’Brien’s a few couple hours later, even the underpasses were flooded.

On the roads, cars were at a standstill, and this driver decided he had better find a way to pass the time.

And then, out of nowhere, the skies cleared and the sun streamed in from every corner of the sky. Crazy, wild Melbourne weather!

Just kidding – that’s L.A. It was fairly miserable all day and the trams weren’t running (because of the traffic) so we swam all the way home to St Kilda through river-like sidewalks.

Ok, we walked. But still.

Lots of love,

the traveling stahr…

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