(no subject)
It's been three weeks since my arrival in Australia and I haven't had a spare moment to write a word.
Leaving home felt strange to me this time in a way that it hasn't before. There is always this last-minute flurry of activity that immediately precedes any trip of indeterminate length- people to see one last time, financial affairs to wrap up, the struggle of packing for any eventuality (luckily I have Abbi for this)- but I'm not used to being nervous about any of it. Usually there's just too much to be done to worry about what happens once I actually get where I'm going. I think that perhaps this decision felt a little too much like running away for my comfort.
The flight from Boston to LAX was uneventful save for some weather that made my connection to Sydney a near-miss. Despite the fact that flying first class has ruined me for coach forever, I bravely settled in for the interminable second leg of the trip hoping to sleep through it. Apparently the woman across the aisle was thinking along the same lines; she, however, had the misfortune to be accompanied by a rather boisterous toddler who was having none of it. Luckily for her the complete inability of her son to stay in his seat didn't in any way interfere with her ability to pass out almost immediately. Daniel (age three) and I amused ourselves with crayons and a coloring book, both of which he thoughtfully provided.
A quick transfer from Sydney to Perth and, after over a day of travel, I was at the beach within an hour of disembarking my plane. The travel gods must have been smiling on me because I didn't even so much as think the words "jet lag"- an especially happy coincidence as I soon discovered that my host had travel plans for us for, oh, the next MONTH. As a bonus, Murray unexpectedly got his cast off the day after I arrived- I say unexpectedly because when we went in for a checkup & to ask to get the cast changed, the doctor came in and looked at the cast and said "Oh, is that still on??" Neither of us really knew what to say to that. The upside was that we went across the street and were kitted up with a flash new walking cast that makes it much easier for Murray to drive. You know, given that I'm such a good driver. I nearly always stay on the left.
A day later and I was unpacked and repacked and driving south down the coast to visit friends for the Easter holiday weekend. Murray's friend Luke owns a huge block of land near Denmark- he used to run it as a wildflower farm- and is it ever a gorgeous piece of land. I was a bit anxious about spending nearly a week there as halfway into the eight-hour drive Murray chose to inform me that it was actually a nudist colony that we were visiting, but that I wouldn't be required to participate in any of the sweat lodges or to get my kit off if I didn't feel comfortable, and that there were only about ten other people there, etc., etc. This went on for the last few hours until we actually arrived at Luke's, where, as you may have guessed, there was absolutely zero nudity (that I could see) and nary a sweat lodge to be found. I wanted to be angry but I had been so thoroughly tricked that I was just impressed at that point. I will, however, likely never live it down among this group, and I now owe Murray big time, which I shall of course cash in on when he least expects it.
We went into town over the weekend as there was a festival on. I got to watch all the ferals dancing in all their splendor, which was a sight to see. My goal for tonight is to get pictures uploaded but we all know how good I am at getting that accomplished in a timely fashion, so... you'll just have to wait. We attended performances Saturday and Sunday night in Denmark. There was a girl named Mary Greenaway whose performance was absolutely breathtaking; she's not well-known yet but I have no doubt she will be, so you should all check her out. Denmark is a pretty small town so we were pleasantly surprised by how much talent was on display during Saturday night's event. The same could not be said for Sunday, however, the details of which do not bear repeating & left us all in actual physical pain. The highlight of Sunday was Luke's performance at an open mic. He did us all proud. I did not heckle at all despite the fact that he'd spent all weekend mocking my ridiculous American accent.
After surviving a boat trip down the river in Luke's infamously untrustworthy boat, it was time to head north. As reluctant as I was to leave the comfort of the farm with its outdoor bathtub and front porch hammock. there was a lot more to do before heading back to work on the 1st (or, okay, the 4th was when I think we eventually made it back here) so we spent one night in Perth unpacking, laundering, and repacking. Natalie was in town for a quick visit so I went over to Roger & Annelies' place for dinner, apent the night and then hopped the train back to Daglish to pack up the car and hit the road to go... CAMPING.
I know that everyone is shocked that I, of all people, would subject myself to any prolonged experience involving excess dirt and discomfort, but really, I loved it. Murray isn't as familiar as the rest of you with just exactly how accident-prone I am, so he let me do lots of things like wander off into the bush in a bikini with an axe to get firewood, which was liberating (and I still have all my fingers- but you should see the cuts and bruises on my legs. I look like I lost a fight). He was calling me a "bush baby" after only a few days. I think that's meant to be a compliment.
No one was more surprised than I at how much I enjoyed being outdoors all day, waking up with the sun and bathing in the ocean. We found some really top spots, which didn't hurt- there were a few times when there was absolutely no other human to be seen all the way down the horizon. I learned some of the southern hemisphere constellations, how to cook on a gas stove, cast a line, and build a truly impressive fire, and what it's like to play tug-of-war with an octopus. Oh, yes, we also drank a lot of really, really good wine. We ended up making it as far north as Coral Bay after diversions to Denham & Monkey Mia, but we've got more planned before my time here is up.
One night as we were sitting around the fire admiring my handiwork, I made the offhand comment that we should stuff to make s'mores the next time we hit a town. The rest of the conversation went like this:
"Make what??"
"S'mores. SMORES."
"What the hell is a s'more?"
"It's what you make when have a fire. You roast marshmallows, then make a little sandwich with Hershey's chocolate and graham crackers. They're delicious. I put peanut butter on mine, but that's just me. You know, s'mores. It's like a campfire tradition or something."
"Okay... what the hell is a GRAHAM CRACKER??"
It was at this point that I gave up completely, as some things apparently just do not translate.
.
And now we're home. Murray went back to work yesterday, which was surreal for both of us- he's been out for three months recovering from his accident, and I'm only just getting adjusted to this house and this city and all of the little daily tasks that make up your life somewhere.
I read this somewhere over the past few weeks:
It's healthy to long for things you don't have. It's what we were made for.
So.
Leaving home felt strange to me this time in a way that it hasn't before. There is always this last-minute flurry of activity that immediately precedes any trip of indeterminate length- people to see one last time, financial affairs to wrap up, the struggle of packing for any eventuality (luckily I have Abbi for this)- but I'm not used to being nervous about any of it. Usually there's just too much to be done to worry about what happens once I actually get where I'm going. I think that perhaps this decision felt a little too much like running away for my comfort.
The flight from Boston to LAX was uneventful save for some weather that made my connection to Sydney a near-miss. Despite the fact that flying first class has ruined me for coach forever, I bravely settled in for the interminable second leg of the trip hoping to sleep through it. Apparently the woman across the aisle was thinking along the same lines; she, however, had the misfortune to be accompanied by a rather boisterous toddler who was having none of it. Luckily for her the complete inability of her son to stay in his seat didn't in any way interfere with her ability to pass out almost immediately. Daniel (age three) and I amused ourselves with crayons and a coloring book, both of which he thoughtfully provided.
A quick transfer from Sydney to Perth and, after over a day of travel, I was at the beach within an hour of disembarking my plane. The travel gods must have been smiling on me because I didn't even so much as think the words "jet lag"- an especially happy coincidence as I soon discovered that my host had travel plans for us for, oh, the next MONTH. As a bonus, Murray unexpectedly got his cast off the day after I arrived- I say unexpectedly because when we went in for a checkup & to ask to get the cast changed, the doctor came in and looked at the cast and said "Oh, is that still on??" Neither of us really knew what to say to that. The upside was that we went across the street and were kitted up with a flash new walking cast that makes it much easier for Murray to drive. You know, given that I'm such a good driver. I nearly always stay on the left.
A day later and I was unpacked and repacked and driving south down the coast to visit friends for the Easter holiday weekend. Murray's friend Luke owns a huge block of land near Denmark- he used to run it as a wildflower farm- and is it ever a gorgeous piece of land. I was a bit anxious about spending nearly a week there as halfway into the eight-hour drive Murray chose to inform me that it was actually a nudist colony that we were visiting, but that I wouldn't be required to participate in any of the sweat lodges or to get my kit off if I didn't feel comfortable, and that there were only about ten other people there, etc., etc. This went on for the last few hours until we actually arrived at Luke's, where, as you may have guessed, there was absolutely zero nudity (that I could see) and nary a sweat lodge to be found. I wanted to be angry but I had been so thoroughly tricked that I was just impressed at that point. I will, however, likely never live it down among this group, and I now owe Murray big time, which I shall of course cash in on when he least expects it.
We went into town over the weekend as there was a festival on. I got to watch all the ferals dancing in all their splendor, which was a sight to see. My goal for tonight is to get pictures uploaded but we all know how good I am at getting that accomplished in a timely fashion, so... you'll just have to wait. We attended performances Saturday and Sunday night in Denmark. There was a girl named Mary Greenaway whose performance was absolutely breathtaking; she's not well-known yet but I have no doubt she will be, so you should all check her out. Denmark is a pretty small town so we were pleasantly surprised by how much talent was on display during Saturday night's event. The same could not be said for Sunday, however, the details of which do not bear repeating & left us all in actual physical pain. The highlight of Sunday was Luke's performance at an open mic. He did us all proud. I did not heckle at all despite the fact that he'd spent all weekend mocking my ridiculous American accent.
After surviving a boat trip down the river in Luke's infamously untrustworthy boat, it was time to head north. As reluctant as I was to leave the comfort of the farm with its outdoor bathtub and front porch hammock. there was a lot more to do before heading back to work on the 1st (or, okay, the 4th was when I think we eventually made it back here) so we spent one night in Perth unpacking, laundering, and repacking. Natalie was in town for a quick visit so I went over to Roger & Annelies' place for dinner, apent the night and then hopped the train back to Daglish to pack up the car and hit the road to go... CAMPING.
I know that everyone is shocked that I, of all people, would subject myself to any prolonged experience involving excess dirt and discomfort, but really, I loved it. Murray isn't as familiar as the rest of you with just exactly how accident-prone I am, so he let me do lots of things like wander off into the bush in a bikini with an axe to get firewood, which was liberating (and I still have all my fingers- but you should see the cuts and bruises on my legs. I look like I lost a fight). He was calling me a "bush baby" after only a few days. I think that's meant to be a compliment.
No one was more surprised than I at how much I enjoyed being outdoors all day, waking up with the sun and bathing in the ocean. We found some really top spots, which didn't hurt- there were a few times when there was absolutely no other human to be seen all the way down the horizon. I learned some of the southern hemisphere constellations, how to cook on a gas stove, cast a line, and build a truly impressive fire, and what it's like to play tug-of-war with an octopus. Oh, yes, we also drank a lot of really, really good wine. We ended up making it as far north as Coral Bay after diversions to Denham & Monkey Mia, but we've got more planned before my time here is up.
One night as we were sitting around the fire admiring my handiwork, I made the offhand comment that we should stuff to make s'mores the next time we hit a town. The rest of the conversation went like this:
"Make what??"
"S'mores. SMORES."
"What the hell is a s'more?"
"It's what you make when have a fire. You roast marshmallows, then make a little sandwich with Hershey's chocolate and graham crackers. They're delicious. I put peanut butter on mine, but that's just me. You know, s'mores. It's like a campfire tradition or something."
"Okay... what the hell is a GRAHAM CRACKER??"
It was at this point that I gave up completely, as some things apparently just do not translate.
.
And now we're home. Murray went back to work yesterday, which was surreal for both of us- he's been out for three months recovering from his accident, and I'm only just getting adjusted to this house and this city and all of the little daily tasks that make up your life somewhere.
I read this somewhere over the past few weeks:
It's healthy to long for things you don't have. It's what we were made for.
So.