Aussie Slang: A glossary

Since I'm running of time, I can't do in depth analysis of all the major slang terms. Australia is one of the most slang dominated countries in the world. They just can't be bothered saying entire words most of the time. The terms listed below are only the most common of slang; this is only scratching the surface! With this list and the ones from previous blogs, if you visit Australia, you'll be 'right. A quick rule of thumb for slang, if the word ends in -o, -er, -y, just eliminate these endings and think of a different suffix that makes a word that'll fit in context. It really doesn't take long to figure it out and once you do, speaking is Aussie slang can be a whole lot of fun! I'm going to actively take a bunch of it home with me and start some sort of trend or something.

Aggro


When somebody is angry and has a high potential for becoming violent or aggressive. Can be used for both permanent and temporary states.


Arvo


The afternoon.


Back of Bourke


Used to describe a place that far away or in the middle of nowhere. Named after Bourke, an outback town in Northern New South Wales


Bloke


Generic term for a male. Typically only used when describing people you think of positively. A bloke is typically a particularily masculine male. If somebody is really stereotypically male, they're refered to as a "blokey bloke." HAHAHA


Bludger


Someone who is particularly lazy and unproductive on the job, a time waster. If you are wasting time, you're bludgin'.


Bogan


A slut or a general term for a stupid irresponsible female. This is a derogatory term.


Bubs


A pet name between lovers, though I've only heard it used by the Eyles family.

Buggered

To be tired.

Bush


A general term for an area that isn't in town. It doesn't matter if it's forest, mountains, or simply bushes. Many other terms come from this, bushwalking for hiking, goin' bush for heading to the country and living off the land, etc.


"Can't be bothered"

When you should do something, but just don't. Cause really, you "Can't be bothered" doing it. I use this entirely too much myself.


Chock-a-block


To be filled to the brim with something, typically people. Often, this is shortened to "chockers".


Chook


A chicken. Often used as an affectionate pet name. However, if you call someone an "old chook", this is a derogatory term for a cranky old lady.


Dodgy


An adjective for an object or situation that is either cheap or can't be trusted. This is similar to the US slang, "That's so Ghetto!"


Doll


Government assistance or welfare as we call it. When somebody is "on the doll" they're unemployed and living off the government. From this, when a person has to reluctantly pay may more than they'd desire, they "doll out the money."


Esky


A portable cooler, like our Coleman's. This is shortened from Eskimo Box, which nobody says.


Fair Dinkum


This is a classic Aussie slang term. It means simply, "I assure you dude, I'm telling you the truth!" This is either used fair dinkum or to help give believability to BS comments. Most of the time though, if a sentence ends with a, "Fair Dinkum mate!" they are typically telling the truth. In a country where BS flows as easily as the beer, they need something to keep them from "crying wolf" so to speak. For example, "Ah mate, I bought this kangaroo skin jacket for only $5, fair dinkum!" I looked up the origin of this saying in a dictionary. Their answer, "Origins uncertain."

Flat out/full on

When something is very busy or intense. If you are being direct with somebody though, you're being flat out honest.

G'day Mate, how ya goin'?

This is the standard Australian greeting. Often, only one of the two parts of this is said as a greeting. Let's not dissect the grammar of "how ya goin' ", it is just something everone says. Be warned, I've adopted this saying myself; prepare to hear me use for my first couple months back home

A go


Ok, this needs a bit of explaination, cause it's a bit confusing. "Have a go." is an invitation to try something out. "Having a go." means to rile somebody either in an affectionate or aggressive way, though most of the time, it refers to the latter. If you say to somebody, "Ah, I'm just havin' a go", this means you're just messing around. If somebody accuses you or asks you if you're "having a go", however, they think you're trying to start something. You just have to read between the lines to figure this out.


Good on ya

This mean "good for you" or "way to go". This can also be used in the third person as well, for example, "good on 'er" or "good on 'im". Yet another of the Aussie slang you'll have to tolerate me using for a while.


Heaps


Lots of a particular thing. This is very common.


Jelly

Anything that is of a gelatinous texture, be it candy or jello. They do not, however, use jelly to refer to a fruit gelatin spread like we do in the states. In this case, they say jam.


Karked' it


Kicked the bucket...slang defined by slang. I love it.


Knackered


Exhausted, typically mentally.


Legend


One of my favorite Aussie terms. This is used to refer to somebody in an extremely positive way. Also used as a way of expressing extreme gratitude, for example, "Ah, you're a legend!" or simply "A legend!" I love it when people call me a legend; it's such an endearingly positive term.


Lolly


A generic term for a piece of candy. It is used to refer to small bits of chocolate, but for the most part, it describes fruity sweets. This is also used as slang for money, Ecstasy pills, or any other mind altering pill.


Maccas



Mickey-D's. MacDonald's.


Mate

Australian slang for a complete stranger, an acquaintance, or a friend, depending on the context. Sometimes the Aussie lengthen this to the more endearing, matey. Really, just throw mate at the end of every sentence and you'll be 'right. (see below, "you'll be right")


Milk bar


A convenience store.


Moll (pronounce Mull)


Marijuana.


Nick


Ug, here's another confusing generic slang term. When you nick something, you're stealing. If you're "in the nick" you're naked, this is typically used when refering to sleeping. To "nick out" is to leave unannounced for a brief period of time. If told to "nick off" that means go away. If something is of a "good nick" that means it's in good condition.


Pash


A kiss, but only as a noun. You can't pash someone. However, you can snog somebody, which means the same thing. You can't give someone a snog though, but you can go for a snog. Ah, the aussies!


Pinch


To steal or borrow something. If you get caught pinching something, prepare to pinched (arrested) by the police. Don't look at me; I don't make the rules.

Piss

I'm convinced that the Aussie just like to say the word piss. Piss is a generic term for grog, alcohol, but it is mostly used to describe beer. If you drink to much, you get pissed. If you are going to have a session (a night of drinking), you're going "on the piss." If you drink too much piss, you have to take or have a piss. If you're joking around with somebody, you're merely "taking the piss," which is the shortened form of "Just taking the piss outaya' mate!" If you don't appreciate somebody "taking the piss outaya mate," you get pissed off. Finally, if it's raining hard, "it's pissing down!" Got it? Good.

Plonk

Bad wine from the bottle. Bad cask wine in bag (box wine) is called goon.

Pom

A brit. They also use pommy.

Poof

A gay guy, though it's typically used to refer to a excessively feminine gay man. They also say poofta.

Preggers

To be pregnant.

Pushie

A bicycle. This is a shortened version of push bike.

Rollie

A hand rolled cigarette. Factory rolled cigarettes are referred to as "tailor mades".

Root

To have meaningless sex. This can be used as a noun or verb. Aussie men are quite up front with women. It is not uncommon when a bloke is chatting up a female, to just flat out say, "hey, how 'bout a root?"

Seppo

This is a derogatory term for an American. A shortened form of Septic Tank...which is rhyming slang for yank...another derogatory term for an American. Makes sense, right?

Servo

Shortened form of service station or petrol station, which is what they call a gas station. They call gasoline petrol.

Serviette

A napkin. Though if you say napkin, they won't get confused; they just don't say it often.

(to)Skull

To chug your drink in one gulp.

Smoko

A generally 15 minute work break in the morning. We call it a coffee break.

Sook

A whiny or pouty person. If you are sitting in the corner alone, looking sad, you're sooking.

Station

A large farm. Though, given the excessive land and poor soil of Australia, all farms are large.

Sus

An adjective describing somebody suspicious or that makes you uneasy. When you are investigating a situation, you "sus it out". After you've investigated the situation, you've got it all "sussed". If you don't want to do something, you can say, "Ah, mate, I can't be sussed." If you are excited, you're sussed. I love this one.

Swag

A canvas sleeping bag with a built in mattress. Everyone has these. Since it is often dry and hot in Australia, it's not uncommon for people to just sleep under the stars in their swag.

Ta

A quick thank you. Most use it in recognition of a small act, like handing somebody something.

Trackie Dacks

What the Aussies call sweatpants. This is often shortened to trackies.

Winge

To complain.

Yabby

A crayfish. People in Australia love their yabbies. Aussie blokes often take off for the weekend for yabbie fishin'.

You'll be 'right

A reassuring way of saying things will be ok. If you ask somebody for permission, they'll often reply, "Ah, mate. You're 'right." As you can guess, 'right is short for alright. Listen carefully for the apostrophe, Aussies almost never say "Alright".

Youse

The plural form of you. I like to use this because it eliminates ambiguity. Another word that'll you'll probably be annoyed by hearing me use...youse.

Zed

How the Aussies say the letter 'Z'. Lots of sleeping related slang comes from this. "Counting zeds" is to sleep. To "Catch a zed" is to take a nap. I've even heard people say, "you looked zedded out." for tired. This isn't too common though.

Aussie Animals: Kookaburra

The kookaburra is another of Australia's iconic animals. It is not the bird itself, but its call that gives the kookaburra its fame. Often described as "lauging" their call is heard (mostly on the east coast), every sunup and sundown. It is an alarm, telling us all to wake up or eat dinner. Someone once told me that the kookaburra is widely respected, because it reminds us at the beginning and end of every day to recognize humanity's humility. I like this.

I've heard about the kookaburra, but it wasn't until I was in the country for six months that I first heard its odd call. I was in Bellingen, enjoying a glass of wine with my friend Donna, watching the sun set above the town's beautiful river and mountain. Suddenly I heard this "CACACACACACACA". I thought it was a monkey or something.

I turned to Donna with a confused look on my face, "You don't have monkeys in Australia, do you?"

"Um no."

"Then what the hell is that?"

"You don't know? That's the kookaburra!"

I was hoping for monkeys.

Aussie Food: Cheese Slaw

Cheese Slaw is an odd food phenomenon. To say it is an Aussie food is a bit deceiving; it doesn't exist anywhere outside of Broken Hill. It is simple to makes and even though it sounds odd, it tastes very good. Many people from outside of Broken Hill go out of their way to eat a cheese slaw sandwich. They can just make it themselves. Below is recipe. Just try it out! The best way to eat it is on a toasted sandwich with chicken.

Cheese Slaw

Ingredients:
Cheddar Cheese
Shredded Carrot
Mayonnaise
Parsley

Mix together equal parts grated cheese and grated carrot with a large pinch of parsley. Stir the mayo into the cheese and carrot mixture until smooth. You can choose the amount of mayo you'd like, depending on your desired consistency.

My Stubbie: Part 2

Australia is the land of beer. I don't really have any statistics to back this up, but it seems as if Australia consumes more beer per capita than any other place I've been. Many Americans enjoy a good beer or two after work. The Germans love a good tall one with dinner. An average Aussie however, doesn't think twice about finishing a six pack on a Tuesday night.

Ages ago when I first got here, I described the beer drinking culture and expressed my vow to find the best beers in Australia. Now, the small microbrews, made in house are always the best, but I won't include them here. I traveled the country, trying every new beer I stumbled across and now, I have compiled a list of my five favorite and five least favorite beers in Australia.


Five Favorite Beers:

Razor Back Red Ale

This is probably my favorite popular beer in Australia. Refreshing, goes down smooth, but has a bit of hoppy bite. This is hard to find though. Most Australians don't even know of it.

Little Creatures Pale Ale

This is a popular Western Australia beer. Sadly, it doesn't get out East too much. It is quite a mild pale ale; Aussies are pretty straight forward with their beer tastes. Thankfully, it has enough of hoppy bite to compliment the bit of sweetness in the flavour.

James Boags Premium

It is mainstream in its flavour. Not a beer that'll challenge a person much, but quite tasty. I find that all of the beers from Tasmania are delicious. It must be the water.

Tooheys Old

This top fermenting ale used to be quite popular, but has fallen out of favor to it's son, Tooheys New, which also isn't too bad. Old is a black ale with a nice dark malty flavor. Not as hoppy as I like, but it is a nice refreshing dark beer that isn't too heavy.

Carlton Draught

Now, this beer is nothing special. Very mainstream lager, but it has proven better than its other counterparts. In general, this is just a good refreshing beer to have on a hot day. At the pub, I'll typically order this; it's cheap and isn't filling.

Other beers worth note: Cooper's Pale Ale, Cooper's Stout, any microbrew from western australia, Pure Blonde, any beer not mentioned from Tasmania, Carlton Cold.


My Five Least Favorite Australian Beers

Resch's Draught

This is easily the worst beer I had in the country. It is a just a boring lager. In general, you can't go wrong with a boring lager, but Resch's actually has an offensive taste. I didn't even finish the beer I ordered. It is widespread on the New South Wales coast. It doesn't shock me that a beer this bad has a name so close to retch.

XXXX Gold

XXXX Gold is the official beer of Queensland. It has hilarious commercials, but the beer itself it utterly forgettable. It doesn't taste bad, but it isn't remarkable enough to be worth spending money on. It is also a mid-strength beer, so if you just drinking it to get drunk (like everyone in Queensland seem to do) it doesn't even prove effective. XXXX Bitter, its stronger cousin is a bit better, but still forgettable. I toured the Castlemaine Brewery, where this is made and they have two beers (of course only available on tap in the brewery) that are incredible! You have to wonder why the brewery would horde the good beer they make, yet produce millions of bottles of the bad beer.

Emu Bitter and Swan Draught

I'm going to group these two Western Australian beers together because I'm a bit fuzzy on their specific tastes. I tried them both on the same night when Erin's beau Damian took me out on a crazy night on the town. I only remember that both were terrible.

Victoria Bitter (VB)

This is a notorious Australian beer. It's extremely popular (yet everyone claims to hate it). Every sporting even seems to be sponsored by it. It the unofficial beer of the Aboriginal Community and has a reputation for causing horrible hangovers after drinking only a couple (this is in fact true). Germans and Brits seem to love it, oddly enough, which is strange since both typically have amazing tastes when it comes to beer. I give VB credit, because unlike most Australian beers, it actually attempts to have a taste, unfortunately, it's a bad taste.

Other mediocre beers: Crown premium lager, Tooheys Extra Dry, anything light or midstrength except for Pure Blonde, Cooper's Sparkling Ale, George's Draught.

Conclusions

In general, Australian beer is unremarkable. Now, maybe I should wait until I'm thousands of miles out of country before posting this; Aussies stand firmly by their beer. When they learn I'm an American, the second thing they say to me (after some sort of crack about George Bush or our government) is some insult on American beer. I'll admit, the beer that we export is terrible, boring, and weak; simply alcoholic water. But, our microbrews are some of the best beers in the world. Just try a Fat Tire, Dead Guy Ale, or a Summit IPA and tell me I'm wrong. The problem is that we don't produce enough of these to export. If you take an typical Australian beer and hold it against a typical American beer, I'll take the Aussie beer hands down! But give a microbrew (American or Australian) any day.

And to follow up on my own beer making attempts. The pumpkin stout after six months in the bottle has turned out beautifully. It doesn't have any pumpkin taste, which may have been a blessing, but it is undeniably a stout. There is something missing from it that I can't pinpoint, but it stand as a decent light stout. My other ale I made was fantastic as well! Though this wasn't from my own recipe, but a kit.

Aussie Animals: Wombats

Wombats are another of Australia cute and cuddly looking animals that can prove quite dangerous in certain situations. They are in general quite timid. Like many animals of hot, arid places, they have a slow metabolism and do not move much. When they are threatened however, the wombat can burst to speeds of 25mph and have the ability to turn on a dime. If you want to hear amusing stories, hunt down an Aussie who has tried to catch a wombat. Prepare to laugh.

Wombats are marsupials who live in extensive underground burrows, much like our prairie dog. Unlike our cute ground dwellers, wombats are quite large, often growing bigger than a bulldog. In Australia, wombats are mostly infamous for totally motor vehicles. Though not large, they are very dense; their body is coated in a thick layer of cartilage. Hitting a wombat is like hitting a big boulder in the middle of road, so be sure to swerve or stop if you see one.

I saw my first wombat in Tasmania while hiking around Cradle Mountain National park. A large group of Japanese tourist were taking part in the odd cultural custom of photographing random things with small stuffed animals. Everyone has their different token; they seem more keen to have their object photographed in front of world landmarks than themselves. Well anyway, one started walking towards the wombat, who was just sitting around munching on grass. I grabbed her arm and pantomimed while speaking, "Don't walk towards it! It's a wombat! It'll charge at you and knock you down!"

She seemed unphased. A Tasmanian tour guide that was with them looked at me and said, "Ah, just let her be. Here in Tasmania, they really don't have any real predators, so they're not really bothered by people. They just sit there and munch on grass."

The woman was standing right next to it, place her small stuffed frog next to the wombat. Just like the guide said, the wombat just kept eating away, ignoring the girl. This gave me the bravery to get up close myself and snap the photo posted above. It was neat to get so close.

A tribute to Michael Jackson

"I read the news today oh boy. About a lucky man who made the grave."

It may seem odd to begin a tribute to a famous songwriter with somebody else's words, but considering he owned the most of the Beatles back catalogue for many years, it's not too much of stretch; in a legal way, they are his words.

Any analysis of the life of Michael Jackson is going to be tricky ordeal. It does stand that despite everything that has happened, his life and death needs to be viewed as tragic. It is weird to say a person died before his time when he's been a superstar for 40 years, but believe or not, he was only the young age of 50 when he died.

I have a soft spot for the guy, Thriller was released the year of my birth and I grew up with Jack-0 when he was at the height of his career, though that isn't too special of a claim considering that even my mother grew up with Michael Jackson. Over the last 15 years, with all the scandals and court cases, it has become easy to forget just how great Michael Jackson once was. I was in the anti-Jackson camp for long time, only recently having rediscovered his amazing music last year.

Before you judge the man, let's travel back to the sixties when he burst into the music scene. At age six, his father stole his childhood and made him a literal slave, abusing him, beating him, forcing him to perform and practice constantly to carry the family out of the poverty-ridden slums of Gary, Indiana. By the time he was 10, he was a national celebrity and he never left the spotlight since.

He grew up, never avoiding success and celebrity. His childhood was left behind, only to be buried deep in his soul. Meanwhile, his stardom grew and grew until he found himself the most popular musician of all time. How could he not buckle under such strain and slowly go insane? Then, suddenly, people stopped buying his albums. Music had moved on, punk made r&b into a thing of the past.

So what's a man to do when he's never not been loved, never not been famous? He let his growing essentricies take over and stole the spotlight through being a nutcase. Marry Elvis's daughter? Why not! I hate my nose! Take it off! Who says I can't have a chimpanzee for my best friend? Suddenly, without a thriving music career and truckloads of cash, he finally had an opportunity to buy the one thing he was never able to have: a childhood. You can't look at MJ's final years as the actions of man. Because he wasn't a man anymore, he was just living the life he was never able to have and he had to start from where it was hijacked from him the very beginning, age seven. He didn't mean to hurt any children; he thought he was a child. I believe that his actions in Neverland were as he claimed, innocent play. Only two people will ever know if he molested the boy, but if he did, he probably didn't even know it was wrong. Does this make it right? Not in any way, but it doesn't make his life any less tragic.

I hope that in his death, it will make people travel back to past and see Michael Jackson for what he was: one of the great performers/singers/dancers/songwriters of all time. See Michael Jackson as the man who broke racial barriers (please ignore his skin disease), and brought "black" music (I'm so sorry to have to use such a stupid term) to the mainstream. See Michael Jackson as the guy that everyone currently aged 15-50 was caught singing with in their bedroom as a child. Don't see him as the insane man/boy recluse who lived in a giant playhouse and had no nose. Maybe it's fitting that he died so young, since he started so young. Now that he is dead though, maybe we can just do as he always wanted us to do, leave him alone. Now excuse me, I have a date with my CD player.

Aussie Food: The Classic Aussie Burger

Now, before you judge what you are about to see, let me assure you that it is awesome! The combinations of ingredient sound silly, but they go quite well together. I remember the first time I saw the massive sandwich and thought, "Really? You put lettuce, tomato, onion, bacon, cheese, pineapple, fried egg, and beetroot on a burger?" This is not something I've made up. This is how the Aussies eat burgers.

"How does it fit your mouth?" you ask. Well, not too well, but somehow, it works. You simply squeeze the front of the burger, either pushing the ingredients towards your mouth or out the back. Make sure you have a firm grip on the entire burger to prevent loss of any of the essential ingredients. I know that I'm a convert to the Aussie burger. I challenge you to try it. You won't be disappointed!

Aussie Humour (in this context, the word does in fact have a 'u')

Australians have a very unique sense of humour. At first, it took me a couple of weeks to figure it out. They are very sarcastic and dry with their jokes and even though it is derived from the British model of humour, it is its own beast. They can be often be confused as mean-spirited; much of their humour comes from "having a go" or "taking the piss", which is a nice way of saying that they insult people in a witty, yet friendly way. If an Aussie says something mean to you, unless it is followed by a fist, you can assume they like you. This can be quite confusing.

The most famous Australian comedian that we get in the US is Paul Hogan aka Crocodile Dundee. Watch this movie again. Dundee is never actually serious, he's just "having a go" at the world's perceptions an Australian.

It can be quite hard to describe humour. One of the few that could intelligently discuss the theories and nature of any joke was George Carlin, but sadly, he is dead. Therefore, since I don't have his insight into the heart of comedy, I find it much easier to post clips of the Aussie humour in action. Enjoy.

Rove McManus

Rove is is Australia's Conan O'Brian/David Letterman/Jay Leno, though unlike these three, he's actually funny. I first saw Rove in Melbourne this last November, right at election time. He had more hilarious insight into the politics of our country than his American counterparts. I was instantly hooked. His show has been gluing Australians to the TV on Sunday nights since 2000. His show Rove Live is almost more famous for the supporting comedians than Rove himself. Somehow, he's managed to compile together all the funniest people in Australia. Sadly, I was unable to find any examples of his topical humour that relates to anything outside of Australia...but trust me, funny guy.

Hamish and Andy

These two nutters are the poster boys of Aussie comedy. The kids love 'em. The adults love 'em. They have their own popular radio program that makes traffic jams in afternoon a blessing and have a regular segment on the show Rove Live. Much of their comedy feature them doing various things in public and seeing how people react. This concept is nothing new, but they do it better than most. Hamish and Andy can put up a pretty viable claim for being the funniest people in all of Australia.

Watch as they try to find summer jobs, without actually being employed:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13TdnLGsG_4&feature=related

Watch Episode 17, Putpocketing where Hamish and Andy try to sneak money into people's pockets:
http://www.rovedaily.com.au/video.htm?channel=Hamish%20and%20Andy

Watch as they roam the streets of LA and try to start a gang:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bYEhjCCSrEw&feature=related

David Hughes

David Hughes, or Hughsey as he is affectionately known, is another stand up comedian in the Rove crew. He is probably most famous for his segment on the show called "Hughsey Loses It". Basically, he goes on a witty rant, much like Lewis Black, Dennis Miller, or a funny Andy Rooney. His style of ranting is probably the best example of the "Aussie Humour" I could find.

Ranting on Food:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xq5eHCFeC2A&feature=related

Ranting on cricket and KFC:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMSF0_mhiEQ

The Castle

This is a popular Aussie movie that is chock-a-block full of examples of Aussie humour. It the story of a man's fight to save his home from being compulsorily bought by a large corporation. I'm going to burn a copy since it is a great film and can't be found in the US, but here are some clips anyway. It might not be as funny to people who have not lived in Australia for a while, be warned.

Serenity:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=da27Z3_9E3Y&feature=related

The worst lawyer ever tries to save the house:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJuXIq7OazQ&feature=related

Fast Forward

This was an old Australian sketch comedy show from the early 90's. I haven't seen too much of it, but what I've seen was quite funny. It is most famous for launching the careers of Jane Turner and Gina Riley, stars of the award winning Kath and Kim (and not to mention everyone else in the show as well).

Spoofing Good Morning America:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v2jhpk9TvU0


Kath and Kim

This is a show started by some of the cast members from the aforementioned show. I'm not going to put up any clips from the show, because it isn't too funny out of context. It's not actually that funny in general, but it is amusing, extremely popular, and undeniably Australian humour. The main characters have a horrible fashion sense and are just horrible people. The show was remade in the states and flopped, which doesn't surprise since there is no way the show can be successful sans the "Aussiness".

Quarantine

I received a letter today from the Australian Department of Agriculture, Fisheries, and Forestry, informing me that a piece of my mail was quarantined, deemed as potentially harmful to Australia. I frantically scanned the letter, wondering what potentially hazardous object somebody was trying send me. I feared the worst; could it be a bomb, a fresh shipment of heroin, or some seeds for growing fresh cauliflower? I scanned the letter and learned that whatever was in the envelope, it was a high threat to the delicate Australian ecosystem. Finally, on the last two pages were photocopies of the offensive object: a wedding invitation.

For some reason, the paper of the invitation was printed on fancy paper that contained traces of a plant seed that may potentially flourish and kill native flora. I'm sure that these seeds were rendered ungrowable in transformation from plant material to paper, but it leaves me with the temptation to plant high-grade paper in ground as a botany experiment. In order for me to receive the invitation, it would have to remain in quarantine for the next eight weeks and get bombarded with high doses of gamma radiation. The leftovers of this small sheet of paper would then be sent to Broken Hill, only seven weeks after my departure from the country and two weeks after the wedding to which I was invited. For this mere inconvenience, the Australian Department of Agriculture, Fisheries, and Forestry would only charge me $42.50.

Thankfully, they left me with another option. If I'd like, I could have the invitation sent back to Guthrie and Laura in Atlanta, I'd merely have to may the postage and handling fee of $42.50. It make me question the level of funding the Australian Department of Agriculture, Fisheries, and Forestry receives. I chose option three: ignoring the notice, allowing the invitation to be incinerated, and RSVPing by email.

This ordeal does not surprise me at all. After a hundred years of raping their environment through the introduction of foreign plants and animals, Australia now has some of the strictest quarantine laws in the world. Any attempt to prevent to next rabbit/cane toad/fox/feral cat/ carp outbreak is well worth it. As a result, Australia has some of the cleanest and most valuable livestock in world and lives without fear of rabies or mad cow disease. South Australia and Western Australian are devoid of fruit flies; when crossing the border, they search for unauthorized fruits and veggies. On the drive to Adelaide, Jess and I always had to be sure not to put tomatoes on our sandwiches.

I twice experienced the strict laws of the Australian Department of Agriculture, Fisheries, and Forestry before even stepping a foot in the country. First, I had to leave my cat at home since he would just live a cage for the first six months anyway (and Jess and Sharon are both allergic to cats). The other time was crossing customs. I had an unopened, sealed bag of trail mix tossed in the bin out of fear it would introduce unwanted insects into the country. Yeah, their efforts are both excessive and annoying, but they are working.

Aussie Sport: Cricket

Every year, around October, begins the dreaded time of sport-doldrums known as cricket season. The two forms of football are over and it's just too hot to play anything else. Everyone has heard of the old British sport of cricket, but most know nothing about it save it's kinda like baseball and it's really boring. I can't dispute either of these perceptions.

Cricket was invented in 1600's by the Brits. It remains quite popular there, but over the years the former members of the once great empire have really taken it to new levels; now, the Brits often have one of the worst national cricket teams in the world.

The game is typically played in an oval, though it's not an uncommon beach or gymnasium game. The oval is at its narrowest point about 130m and at its longest, 150m. In the middle of the oval are two sets of wickets, which are three sticks pounded into the ground with another two that rest across the top. The wickets are set 20m apart; this area is known as "the pitch".

A cricket team has eleven members. Typically, players are either good fielders/batters or good bowlers. It is rare to have players who excel at both. The general object of the game is to score as many runs as possible. The bowler starts at one end of the pitch and "bowls" the ball around 80-100mph towards the opposing wicket; bowling is like pitching in baseball, but they get a running start and are unable to bend their elbows; it's quite silly to watch. There are two batsmen on the field at a time. One to bat and one to just stand there, ready to run. After the ball is bowled, the batsman must hit the ball underhand to gaps in the field where nobody can catch the ball. Many times, the batter is just keeping the ball from hitting the wicket. If he hits it far enough, both batters run back and forth between the wickets, each time this happens, they score a run. If one of the two starts running, then both have to run and cross to the opposite wicket before the ball is fielded. Whenever the ball is hit to the outside of the oval without bouncing, it is an automatic six runs, if it bounces, four. Another way to score a run is if the bowler throws the ball outside the crease (essentially a ball in baseball).

There are a few ways to get out. It is an out when the ball is caught. If the fielders return the ball and touch it to the wicket while the batsmen are in the middle of the pitch, the batter who hit the ball is out. When the ball is bowled a hits the wicket, breaking one the top sticks, this is known simply as a "wicket"and the batter is out. Sometimes a sneaky player will either purposefully or accidentally prevent a wicket by using a body part to block the ball. If this happens when the trajectory of the ball is heading directly towards the wicket, it is an out by (LBW or Leg before wicket or my favorite cricket term, a "googly".). It's a pretty simple game.

Each side takes turns batting through the order of ten batters all at once in an inning. This makes the game seem very long because the same side can be batting for hours. When the inning is over, they switch positions. The team with the most runs wins. Here is where it gets a bit more confusing.

There are a three main types of cricket games: 20/20's, day matches, and test matches.

20/20 are by far the most interesting of cricket matches. Each team has twenty overs, an over being six bowls. So, the teams have 120 chances to score runs. In the world of cricket, this is not a lot of bowls. Therefore, the batters bash the hell out of the ball to score as many runs in a short amount of time. They don't last long and it seems as if they are trying really hard to make things happen as opposed to other forms of cricket where the do the exact opposite.

The day matches are similar, except there are 50 overs on each side. The batters are bit more conservative, since 50 overs is more than enough chances to get all ten batsmen out. These are a bit entertaining as well, but they last for hours! The batters still bash the ball around, but in general, the strategy moves more in the direction of not getting out.

The most boring and most well-known type of cricket are test matches. This is the form of cricket where it gets its notoriety for being the most dull spectator sport this side of golf and Nascar. A test match lasts for up to five days! Each team has four innings of unlimited overs and even though the match is decided by the team with the most runs, the general object is to not get out. If four innings are not complete, the game is a draw and it proves a complete waste of five days for the players and spectators. The batters typically play defensively, just deflecting the ball from the wicket and scoring as many runs as possible in the meantime. Despite its stupid length, this form of cricket is the ultimate test of team and surprisingly, lots of people watch entire matches. Typically, it is merely background at pubs or worth a quick score check every commercial break. For those who have the endurance to watch the whole match, it is often accompanied by periods of mild hypnotic coma or napping. I hate test cricket...give me a 20/20 any day. Since there is no baseball here, I have watched my fair share to satiate some of my need for some ball bashing, but overall, I won't be too sad to leave cricket behind.

Aussie Animals: Koalas

Everybody seems to love the ever so cute and cuddly Koalas; one of Australia's classic iconic...icons. There are a couple common misconceptions about the koalas that do not exist here in Australia. They know better here.

First, despite their popular name, the koala bear, is not a bear in any way. They may look like you're beloved teddy, but they are in fact a marsupial. Their closest relative is the other so cute, yet dangerous Australian animal, the wombat.

Next, and most popularly, despite their cuteness, koalas are not cuddly! They are quite the opposite in fact. Due to their incredibly low-protein and highly toxic diet of only eucalyptus leaves, their brains have slowly deteriorated over generations to nearly nothing. They have one of the smallest body mass to brain mass ratios of all mammals. Essentially, a koala is a creature of pure instinct. Since the koala has evolved such an unlikely, horrible niche in Australia, they merely sit in trees and eat/sleep. Eucalyptus leaves can't really sustain much more. When disturbed though, koalas go nuts, since everything is a threat to their literally pea-sized brains. And they have these big, sharp claws for climbing trees and giant incisors for ripping tough eucalyptus leaves off the trees. If you try to hug a koala, prepare to be disemboweled. They're an Australian animal for crying out loud, what would you expect?

Two fun facts about koalas:

-Except for primates, koalas are the only animals that do not have fingerprints! In fact, their fingerprints are difficult to decipher from humans. I'm surprised no Aussie serial killers have used the "A koala disemboweled my baby!" defense.

-Female koalas have two sets of sex organs! But watch out, koalas are suffering from a widespread outbreak from Clymydia, so keep your hands to yourself boys!

Wow, I bet you all feel informed now.

Random Aussie Things Week!

Considering that it will be quite difficult to have any assonant adventures awhile attachted to an authentic Aussie abode, this week shall be a marathon of various observations, foods, animals, etc. that I wanted to discuss before I left. My days are completely unbooked at the moment; my only obligations being some more planning for my trip to New Zealand next week. Therefore, I'll have lots of time for blogging about many random things. Enjoy.

The adventures continue next week when I land on the island of the dreaded Kiwis. Enjoy.

Aussie Food: Vegemite

Ah, I'm sure you've all been waiting for this moment. Now you shall get the lowdown on the iconic Vegemite, staple of an Australian diet. Vegemite was invented during World War 1 as a spread for soldiers during a shortage of Marmite, another salty spread. Due to lack of resources, scientists created Vegemite from leftover brewer's yeast, because even in hard times, Australia had lots of it leftover; Australians can't live without their beer. It has since then gained enormous popularity in its country of origin (though the Kiwis and Brits do eat it at times). It is actually quite healthy, being high in vitamins B1, B2, B3, and B9, a perfect hangover cure to prevent that nasty Korsokov's disease (which probably doesn't even exist in Australia because of Vegemite).

It can be described as an "acquired taste". Most non-Australian's don the easily recognizable "Vegemite Face" after tasting it, this is usually accompanied by a run to the nearest garbage for clean spitting. It is tangy and extremely salty. It's so thick that the flavor lingers on the tongue for the rest of your life.

Jess was on a mission to convert me to the stuff. My first sampling was licked plain, off her finger. I retched. She explained that it probably isn't the best to try it plain. The next tasting was a month or so later, "OK, Aaron, try some Vegemite again, you'll like it on toast!" I didn't like it on toast. She convinced me to eat on toast again at some later date, this time with a thinner coating. Jess loves Vegemite even more than the average Aussie; when she smears it on, it thickens the bread by a centimeter. The result was the same: a half chewed chunk of brown bread sitting on top of the garbage.

She dropped her attempts to convince that Vegemite was anything but the most offensive flavor known to man. I had assumed myself safe, having passed the test of trying it already three times. Two weeks after arriving to Australia, my assumptions proved wrong.

"Aaron! Try this." She shoved a round spongy thing in my face, coated with a too-thick layer of the familiar brown paste (though any amount of Vegemite can be described as too thick).

"What's that?" I asked, not recognizing the round toasted object in her hand.

"It's a crumpet with Vegemite. I know you don't like Vegemite, but it's really really good on crumpets."

I dove into the crumpet like one dives into a freezing cold creek. You can guess the result. I've told this story many a time to Aussies and all found it odd that somebody would actually put Vegemite on a crumpet. Further proof that Jess likes Vegemite too much for her own good.

Oh, oh, how I wish that this story could end right here, just so I can't continue to conjure memories of that salty, slimy, s**t, because eating Vegemite is much like a horrible drunken tattoo, it'll stick with you for the rest of your life. Alas, Jess is quite a tenacious young woman. Months after the crumpet experiment, she conjured her resources and whipped out the strongest weapon the pro-Vegemite camp has against the non-believers: the dreaded (or loved, depending on who you ask) VEGEMITE AND TOASTED CHEESE SANDWICH. This is THE quintessential Australian sandwich, so quintessential, it needs to be bolded, capitalized, and italicized.

Jess was quite sneaky though. She knew it would be her last chance to subject myself to such torture. As the saying goes, five times bitten, you're shy. So, she only smeared the Vegemite on the bottom quarter of the sandwich. I took a bite, then another. Soon, I was wolfing it down.

"Hey Jess, you know, this ain't too bad!"

"Told'jya!" Causually using her classic catchphrase.

I continued eating the sandwich merrily until I hit the Vegemite; instantly the half chewed portion of sandwich was in the bin, with the rest of the sandwich. Jess and her Vegemite was finally defeated! Score one for America!

This not the end of the story though. Fast forward seven months to the near present or recent past, however you want to categorize it. After a night out with Jess and her friends, it was time for the time honored tradition of a post-drinking Vegemite snack.

I saw the jar with its familiar yellow label and feces colored contents.

"Yuck!" I exclaimed.

"Have you even tried it?" Jess's roommate Loren asked.

Jess and I exchanged smiling glances and I told my Vegemite story to that point.

"Well of course you don't like Vegemite if Jess smeared it on. She'd drink if it she could. Have you tried it on a Saho?"

"No, and I don't want to. What's a Saho?"

Within seconds a two centimeter square cracker was thrust in my face, smeared with butter and Vegemite.

"No thanks."

"Just eat it!"

I placed the cracker in my mouth and prepared for the impeding desire to vomit. I chewed, swallowed, and it sat comfortably in my stomach. For the first time ever, I didn't hate it. Loren gave me another and I ate it, sure this was just a one time fluke. Again, same result, non-revulsion. It may be something in the scarce Australian water, but after 10 months of being in this country, I finally found the stuff to be at the least edible, not pleasant, but not horrible either. Somewhere above, Bruce, the Australian demi-god of Vegemite that I at this moment created, erased the original scored point and transferred it to the Australian side with his characteristically large smile. This was a sure sign that it was in fact good that I only had one week left in the country, because if I start liking Vegemite, all hope for me is lost.

Farewell Jess!

It would have been impossible for me to leave without seeing Jess one more time before I left. In my absence, she had moved to Adelaide to embark on her own exciting journey of a University education. Getting to Adelaide can sometimes prove a difficult prospect if you don't own a car; it's a good five and half hour drive from Broken Hill. Thankfully, the people of Broken Hill are oft required to go to Adelaide for various events and shopping excursions and Heath and his family, close friends of the Eyles, were heading there for a figure skating competition and had an extra seat.

I arrived in Adelaide on Friday and anxiously waited for Jess to meet me at a convenient spot. I didn't know what to expect upon seeing Jess again. Because of my inability to healthily deal with my bitterness and anger after the breakup, our last parting four months ago was not on the most positive of terms. Thankfully, our reunion proved to be positive, like long lost friends finally seeing eachother again.

My four day was quite uneventful, but relaxing. On Friday night, I went to a nightclub with Jess and her friends, which was lots of fun and met her new future roommate. Saturday was a recovery day and the over next couple days, I just hung out at Jess's place while her and her roommate were working.

Monday night, we had Jess's Uncle Stephen and Aunt Valmai over for dinner. Throughout my year, I've spend quite a few nights at their place, so it was nice to finally cook them a nice meal. I made two styles of fajitas, chicken and zucchini/corn/avocado with homemade tortillas, which all turned out well (I didn't try the vegetable fajitas because of my dislike of both zucchini and avocado). It was nice to see Stephen and Valmai again before I left.

I was scheduled to leave Tuesday morning around seven, but Jess had leave an hour before that to work. Our plan was to both get up early. I'd cook breakfast and make a cup of tea while she showered, then we'd eat together and spend some last few, probably awkward moments before our big goodbye. I was awoken by a frantic Jess at ten minutes to six. There was no time for breakfast or tea. She quickly got ready with just enough time for a long hug. We exchanged no words; none were needed. She flew out the door and speeded away to work.

It was probably the best way to part anyway. There was no time for thinking; no time for cheesy parting words; no time for tears. We'd been through enough over the last two and a half years to know what we'd say anyway.

It's hard to see our lives diverging in two different directions when once we had thought we'd share paths forever. I'm not bitter or angry anymore; I've accepted how things have transpired. If I had never made the attempt to make this work, I would have been stuck, wondering what might have been if I'd only made the jump. Even though it didn't work out, this experience has pushed my life into a competely new direction and sent me on a great adventure that has changed me forever. I'll spare you the expected Robert Frost quote. Sometimes things need not be said.

Back in Broken Hill

Well, now I'm back in Broken Hill for a few weeks to regain some stamina for my upcoming, month-long tour of New Zealand. It was becoming painfully obvious that I needed to take a break from traveling and relax a while before I embark on any more journeys. Of course, there are also numerous people in Broken Hill with whom I wanted to spend some time before I headed back to the states.

It was comforting to see that nothing much has changed in this town, except the weather. When I left here it was 40C, which is very hot by most people standards. Upon my return, the temperature has dropped a lot to about 10-15C in the day and freezing at night. This is probably the coldest place I've visited so far in Australia, beating both Victoria and Tasmania.

The other big change is a lack of Jess. With her at school in Adelaide, the house is strangely empty and quiet. I do find this to be quite nice after the continuous lack of personal space I found in the hostels.

Man Swine Flu

The day after my Bondi to Coogee Cliffwalk/free pub crawl, I was a bit hung over. My original plans for the day were cancelled last minute, so I decided instead to catch up on some much needed writing and laundry. I was feeling ok for most the day, but by mid-afternoon, I started feeling really weird. My limbs felt disconnected from my body, my heart was racing like crazy, and I had a very floaty feeling in my head. Someone noticed me looking funnier than usual at the hostel and asked what was up. I described how I felt and she just replied.

"Ah, that's just goon fever! I had that for a whole week once! Have a couple glasses of wine, it'll go away...until tomorrow."

Randos at hostels always have the best medical advice, but I didn't know it at the time. I ignored his hair-of-the-dog suggestion. It kept getting worse and worse, until I really started getting worried. I chugged a liter of water, then headed to a restaurant to get some dinner. After a block of walking, my legs became jelly. My head was spinning. I stabilized myself against a wall to get my balance back: this definitely was not a hangover.

I started freaking out, I just knew my heart was not pumping enough blood to my body. I hailed a cab, headed to the nearest ER and told the triage nurse what was happening.

She took my pulse and blood pressure, found nothing abnormal, but ran an EKG just in case.

"Sir, I don't think there is anything wrong with you. You can see a doctor if you want, but I'd say just go to bed. Maybe breathe into a paper bag if symptoms continue."

Suddenly, all my mystery heart symptoms disappeared, I could feel my legs fine, my heart rate dropped to normal. It was obvious what had happened: anxiety attack brought on by merely being tired and a bit hungover. I felt like a total boob going to the ER for only having drank six beers the night before.

If only this was my only trip to that ER.

I awoke two days later with a bit a cold. It wasn't bad or anything, but I knew it was just the day one symptoms. Under normal circumstances, I would think nothing of it, but I was moving on, heading back to Broken Hill. Again, normally, I wouldn't care at all about taking a cold to Broken Hill. The previous week though, I was in Victoria, heart of the Swine Flu epidemic. Let me preface this by saying, I did not think I had Swine Flu! But since I didn't want to be known in Broken Hill as "That damned Yank who gave us all Swine Flu," so I felt it was duty to at least talk to medical professional to see if I should get tested.

I went back to the hospital, but avoided the triage nurse...I didn't want to show my face there again. Instead, I went to the hospital's front desk, told my situation and was given nothing helpful back.

"Well I don't know if you should get tested. Just go next door to the triage nurse!"

I felt the panic attack symptoms start before doing some deep breaths as I walked to the place where I'd been so embarrassed two days before.Thankfully, I did not see the kind nurse who had helped me two days earlier. I started explaining the situation again and upon saying "Sw...", there was a face mask thrust into my hands before I even brought my lower lip to my top teeth to start the "F". After I finished talking, she stared at me impatiently.

"Do you have a high fever?"

"Nope."

"Have you been in contact with anybody with a confirmed case of Swine Flu?"

"Nobody confirmed. I was just in Victoria and Melbourne last week, I've been doing lots of touring, so I've been in contact with lots of people."

"Why do you think you have Swine Flu?"

"I don't think I have swine flu! I just want to find out if I have reason to get tested before travelling on to a new place with no confirmed cases."

It was at that moment the nurse from the other night walked in. "Oh, hello sir. Feeling a bit better today?"

The other agitated nurse asked, "Ah, so you were here before! Why did you come in for that time?"

I quietly mumbled, "panic attack."

The nurse rolled not only her eyes, but her entire head in a giant orbit, until they stopped back on me, much angrier than when their journey started, "If you want, I can treat you like a potential swine flu case. We'll put you in quarantine for a while until the tests show clean, but I reckon you'll be OK. If you get a fever, call us."

I couldn't leave town quick enough.

Sydney: The End of the Road

I ended my grand five and half month tour of Australia in the most populous city of the nation, Sydney. Over the last month, I'd been going in and out of Sydney, using the town as my own personal transit center. None of my quick visits were wasted though, so by the time I had come for an extended visit, I'd already seen most of the most popular sites.

Sydney is a large city, with unending things to see. My first day back, I did the famous 5km stroll, the Bondi to Coogee beach Cliff Walk! This is for those tourist like myself that enjoy using their legs. It was a nice stroll, but after some of the coastline and beaches I've seen in Victoria and everything, this seemed a bit tame. I still enjoyed the trip. Having stayed up too late the night before, I got a late start on the walk, I was able to enjoy the sunset on my walk. Afterwards, I did a bit of pub crawl with the handful of free drink vouchers I'd picked up weeks earlier.

My original plan was to meet up with Sharon's sister Janice to see the Bengalow State Forest, where Ivan Milat dumped all the bodies. She called me early that morning to cancel because she was sick. This was fine, because the previous night's pub crawl destroyed my ambition to do much of anything anyway. It was a good day for laundry and writing.

I had another classic Sydney walked planned for the next day, the Manly Scenic Walk, which is more describing the place, not the walk itself, but with me on the trail, who knows. On the way to the ferry, I stopped for a world famous tiger pie at Harry's Cafe de Wheels, a Sydney staple. A tiger pie is a meat pie, topped with a big scoop of mashed peas, another scoop of mashed potatoes, then smothered in gravy! It was a coronary treat! The walls of the cafe was adorned with many celebrities enjoying this behemoth of a meat pie. My personal favorite photo was of Colonel Sanders chowing down, gravy on his lips. The 12km walk was enjoyable, had some good views, but for the most part unremarkable, hence most of this paragraph being dedicated to my pie lunch and not the walk.

My original plan was to just to head home on Tuesday or Wednesday, but since Eline and Mirte were heading down to Sydney from Byron Bay, I decided to stick around another day. The three of us and two of their friends headed for a nice stroll past the famous sites, including the Opera House. The highlight was walking across the massive Sydney Harbour Bridge, an essential Sydney experience. Tourists have the option of climbing up on the arches of the bridge to the top for what is called the best view of Sydney. $179 seemed a bit much for this experience; the view from the footpath was stunning enough.

The next morning, I bid farewell to Eline and Mirte and ended my grand Australia tour. I was exhausted, had a cold, and was starting to go crazy (see next post). I had only one choice, head back to Broken Hill to relax and enjoying my final weeks in the country with my Australian family.

Blue Mountains

The Blue Mountains section of the Great Dividing Range lies two hours due East of Sydney. Given its location and scenery and being home to one of the world's natural wonders, The Three Sisters, it is among the most popular tourist destinations in the country. The name comes from the blue hue coming off the misty trees in the sunlight.

My first day was rainy and foggy, so I found the name to be quite silly. I'd just call them the Gray Mountains or the boring mountains. To help maximize my experience, I elected to go through a lovely forest hike that was both sheltered from the rain and not dependent upon beautiful lookouts. 'Twas a wise choice, the woods were lovely. This day proved to be the lowpoint of my trip; I lost my camera that evening. Thankfully, there weren't too many good photos lost that day.

The next day I was sans camera as well, which was a pity, because the sun was out and the hike was fantastic. I did a 20km hike out to the Ruined Castle, actually a giant pile of rocks with great view from the top. It was a long hike, so I was out until sunset. What a sunset it was! The cliffs surrounding the whole valley lit up as if they were on fire and the swirling pinks and purples of the sunset above the blue hue of the trees cannot be described. I doubt a camera would have captured it properly anyway. The hike ended with a climb out of the valley via the infamous Giant Steps, which was about a kilometer straight up! I only had a couple of heart attacks in the process of climbing.

The next day, I took a thirty minute train rain to the nearby town of Wentworth Falls and went for another epic hike. My new camera was purchased, but the battery was on charge, so once again, I could not photograph any of the incredible sites of the day. I first walked along the top of the cliff, then took a trail that goes right in the middle of the cliff, through little caves and under waterfalls. The third leg was predictably along the bottom of the cliff through the forest. The stairs down were a bit dodgy. They started as stairs, but soon they became a series of ladders. Finally, the parks system gave up on building structures all together, instead just throwing a rope over a cliff. No wonder they warned that this trail was for experienced hikers only! Let's just say I was glad to be going down this route and not up. The valley floor bypassed many waterfalls and creeks and had lots of fun terrain; it's nice to be an "experienced walker". The final leg just took me to the train station, which involved walking along the cliff face a fourth time. I went through the rainforest on top instead.

The final day I did have my camera, but the scenery was not as lovely as the previous two days. I decided, or I should say that my legs decided, that there would be no descending into the valley; I doubt I'd survive another epic climb up stairs. I stuck to the ever popular Prince Henry Cliff Track, the typical route for Blue Mountain day trippers. I was disappointed to find that this was a long weekend, the Queen's Birthday, so every one of the five million residents of Sydney decided to enjoy the mountains on this sunny day. I didn't think the wilderness could hold so many people. We had to queue just to walk down the path. It was still lovely, but after three days of solitary bliss, I resented the presence of people in my mountain range. I returned to Sydney that evening, electing to not share the trail with a billion people for another day.

My Rocky Horror

Katoomba is a tourist mountain town that is mostly focused on hiking around the splendid scenery of the Blue Mountains. At night however, it is a quiet, sleepy, mountain town. To shake things up a bit, I decided to take part in two local events around town, a free Texas Hold 'Em Tournament and a screening of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

The last time I saw Rocky Horror was four years ago at a University of Minnesota theater. I found myself one of the few who did not dress up. I didn't know what to yell at the actors, I was completely lost. Therefore, I did some research and vowed to never watch Rocky Horror in public again without fishnet stockings.

I was in luck. Katoomba proved to be quite ripe with discount women's clothing. I found a lace pink bra and panties for $5, fishnets for another five, and a cheap skirt. Shoes weren't on my budget, so I just wore hiking boots. Leather was also not in my budget as well. Either way, I was ready enough for the show.

My night started at the poker tournament. The movie was at 10:30 and I needed time to change and find someone to lend me some makeup, so I set an alarm for 9:15. It was a free tournament, so I didn't care whether I won or not. I started well, won a few hands early and bet them well. I quickly became the table leader. Time flew by quick and in no time, my 9:15 alarm was buzzing. I knew I had to wrap things up. I started playing every hand and calling every bet, but no matter what I had, nothing proved too bad to lose. A seven and nine off-suited was beating pocket queens. Straights and flushes came up constantly. Soon, I had three times the stack of anyone in the room! Since I had already paid $20 for drag, I didn't want to miss the show because of a free tournament. I was doing so well though, I definitely considered ditching the movie to move in for the win. In the end it didn't matter. It took all of three consecutive losing hands to take me out.

I found a girl in the hostel with makeup and prepared to leave with only minutes to spare. Earlier in the day, I posted a sign on the bulletin board, trying to convince others to join me; these things are always more fun in a group. Alas, I found myself standing in drag, alone in the lobby. The theater was only a kilometer away, so it would not be long before I was surrounded by other people in ridiculous costumes.

I was a bit late for the start of the film; everyone had already filed into the cinema. I opened the door and saw the outside light illuminate the crowd, everyone dressed in sweaters or winter coats and pants. Not a single pair of fishnet-dressed legs sat crossed on the seats in front of them. A few in the crowd sang along to "Dammit Janet!", but nobody yelled "asshole"or "slut"when the couple introduced themselves. After five minutes of being the solo voice in the crowd participation rituals, I gave up.

Leaving the theater, the crowd had their chance to see me in my festive glory. Most were quite pleased that I was in the spirit. Some explained that they wanted to dress up, but thought it was too cold. It still didn't help the fact that was the sole person in drag. One remarked I looked quite good in stocking and should join the drag show going on just two blocks away. I considered the anecdote factor or participating in a drag show for one time in my life, but as I left the safety of the cinema, various jeers and queer looks killed my bravery of doing such a thing. I was awkward enough and the anecdote I had was good enough as well.

State of Origin aka Get off your asses and learn some culture!

Every year, there is a large rugby league even between New South Wales and Queensland. The best players from each state, not where they play, but where they are born, hence the name State of Origin, compete for one year of bragging rights. It is a big deal in the two rugby states. The other states pay attention, but they don't really care; they're too busy with their silly AFL.

I was sitting the hostel's TV lounge when I found out that it was happening that very night! I suggested to the group lounging around that we go out and watch at some local pub, expose ourselves to this great cultural experience. I only had two takers: a British bloke from the town of Rugby and a young Flemish dude.

This angered me. Not this specific act of experience laziness, but the general attitude of many travelers I meet. Maybe I'm a bit of a snob. After hosting so many exchange students, it has become so obvious to me that only way to experience a country is to dive right in and meet the locals. Admittedly, my Australian experience is quite a bit different than that of a typical backpacker's. I dated an Aussie woman for nearly two years, lived with her family in a small Outback town for four months and became a part of the community before I hit the road. I'm even to the point where I conceptualize myself as just a little bit Australian. No, I don't like Vegemite, but I know all the words to "Eagle Rock", "G'day, mate. How ya goin' "slides off my tongue without thought, and my diet consists muchly of meat pies. Given my excessive immersion in the culture, I'm able to bond with Aussie easily; I get what they are talking about. Much of this comes from my relationship with Jess, but this is also the product of not being lazy when it comes experiencing the heart of the culture. I've not been content sitting in a hostel in Sydney or Byron Bay, drinking and only mingling with fellow backpackers. I've been going to small towns, hitting up pubs, and approaching locals to "strike a light".

Most travelers don't. They ignore the Aussies in the hostels, especially the older ones. Befriending Sandy in Cairns opened me to many great experiences in Victoria, thrusting me into the heart of the hippy/Bohemian culture and has linked me up with many new Aussie friends. Everybody else missed this opportunity because they ignored Sandy; she's a fifty year old Australian woman, not some blonde German chick with big tits.

I've been preaching annoyingly to the travelers of the hostels to get out the normal routes an see the small towns and meet the "true Australians". If you spend a year in a country and leave with no concept of the place and its people, you've failed at travelling! All it takes is something as simple as watching a rugby game at pub.

Lost Camera

I am currently on camera number three for my trip. After a lovely hike in the Blue Mountains, I stopped at a tourist Mecca, one aptly titled Scenic World. While there, I stopped to take a photo of a bronze sculpture of the Three Sisters legend, then put on my coat because it was cold. Sometime during this process, my camera was lost. (Note the use of passive voice: It puts the blame on a mystery source, not my own irresponsibility. I learned this from Mr. George Walker Bush.) I realized this startling revelation about 45 minutes later when I returned to my hostel. Upon my discovery, I marched back through the impending night, retracing my steps, head down like Charlie Brown. No avail. Scenic World had no camera turned in, but I left my number hoping somebody would bring it the next day.

I filed a police report the next day and scoured the second hand shops around town, hoping somebody tried to hock it. No luck. So I purchased my third camera with a memory card and case for $360, hurting my New Zealand budget quite a bit. I had thankfully backed up my photos last week in Victoria, so all I lost were my photos of Canberra (hence the childish parliament house drawing). Thankfully, it isn't too picturesque there anyway (see the rationalization at work in real time!), but I did lose a great photo me sitting the speaker's chair, clad in white wig, robes, and aviator sunglasses. I should consider myself lucky though, I've heard many a tale of camera woes on my travels; this nation has a knack for swallowing cameras. One woman I met had gone through five in six months! Losing my camera wasn't crippling, but it was damn annoying.

My Cancer

Thousands of people visit Australia every year. It is among the world's most popular holiday destinations. Most tourists are sure to always leave with one of a few choice Australian souvenirs, a boomerang, a didgeridoo, an akubra hat, and melanoma. I didn't know which of these I wanted most, but after my Tasmanian hike, I realized that I didn't really have a choice.

On my forehead, just under some hair, I found what appeared to be a pimple. This was a couple months ago in Cairns. Like most pimples, I just tried to pop it. It didn't pop, so I left it alone, made of note of its position and went on with my life. Now, a person should always wear a hat in Australia, especially when one has a buzz cut. I lost my hat in Western Australia and never bothered to purchase a new one, which was not a good idea. I did always remember to smear sunblock through my hair, just in case. Well, it became evident that this was not good enough!

As you can guess, I forgot about this "pimple", until the aforementioned day in Tasmania. There it was, right where I had told myself to remember and forgotten. The pimple was still there. Only it wasn't a pimple anymore, it was bigger, flatter, less pimple like.

Two days later in Victoria, I mentioned to Sandy that I should go to the doctor to get this mystery lesion checked out. She scoped at it for a second and said, "Yep, that definitely looks like cancer!" She booked me with a doctor a week later and I prepared to shuffle my budget to pay for the surgery and all that, as well as a soft way to tell my parents.

I stepped into the doctor's office and removed my stocking cap. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Well, in Queensland a month ago, I found this pimple and...." telling the story in much the same way as above.

She put on some gloves, started rubbing my head looking for this cancer on my head. Finally when she reached the fabled spot, "Is this it, sir."

"Yep, that's it."

"Well..." She looked at it for an incredibly long two seconds. "It doesn't look like cancer."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it looks like a pimple that got a little infected, leaving a small lesion. Keep an eye on it though. If it gets bigger, go back to a doctor, but it should heal by a couple of months. I really don't think it's cancer."

"Oh, Ok." Looks like I need an Akubra now!

Canberra (pronounced Can-bruh...as quickly as you can say it)

The nation's capitol was on the way back to Sydney, so I made a quick stop there. It was on my itinerary anyway. It was a 24-hour fly in super tour, but definitely worth it.

Canberra has an interesting history. In Australia's infancy, there was a large debate over whether the capital should be in Sydney or Melbourne, the two most populous cities. Eventually, Melbourne won the battle, but only as an interim until a new city was built. The government moved to Canberra in 1927 upon completion. Canberra and its surrounding areas are their own Australian territory, the ACT (Australian Capital Territory), much like our District of Columbia. Canberra was designed by architect Walter Burley-Griffin and had a very conceptual plan. The city branches out from two circles, one North and one South of the man made Lake Burley-Griffin (no ego at all that Walter).

It is therefore an incredibly new city, leaving absolutely no old architecture to admire, but there are a few buildings with some charm. The highlight is the stunning War Memorial. The building was lovely and the museum was informative and flashy. I wasn't in the mood for military history that day, but I still gave it a one-hour walk through. The beauty of Canberra stems from its free admission to nearly all attractions :-D.

Canberra is nestled in the mountains, between two large hills. I climbed Mt. Aislie, just behind the War Memorial for a panoramic view of the city and surrounding areas. The other, Black Mountain, has a tall tower on top, but this was too far of a walk for the time I allotted myself.

There is not too much to offer travelers than the many scattered museums. The town is just too gubernatorial, though what would one expect from a nation's capital? The main reason I came to town is to visit the parliament building (see childish drawing above) and learn a bit about the government.

I took a 45-minute tour of the building, read all the various signs and plaques, and even sat in a parliamentary session. I could only endure exactly two minutes of some guy rambling about something so dry, I neglected to even note the general topic. The rest of parliament must have felt the same; the room was nearly empty save the House Speaker and the scribe. If I'd only stayed a couple of hours more, I have seen some real action! A floor debate that afternoon escalated to an argument, only to come to head later on the front steps where punches were thrown. You gotta love Australia!

The government is run very similarly to the states. There is a bicameral parliament; a house and senate. The house is population based and the senate has equal representation for each state. The citizens vote for the parliament members. Interestingly, all citizens over 18 are required to vote. I've had many a discussion with Aussies over whether their system of voting is better. In the states, only people actually care bother voting, but this leaves 50% of the population unaccounted for. The obligatory voting should, but sadly does not stir citizens to learn about the candidates for an informed vote. Instead, it seems to breed a general apathy for whoever gets voted in. The parliament chooses the Prime Minister, whose role is similar to our president's. The are actually two heads of state in Australia. Unable to totally ditch their British roots, Australia still hold Queen Elizabeth as the ultimate word of the law. She is represented by the Attorney General, who is chosen by the Prime Minister. Even though she has veto power, it is rarely used. Aussies would not stand for having a person who's only visited the government house once in fifty years control their lives. She's just a figurehead. All laws first have to pass through the house, then the senate, unlike us, where laws get bounced back and forth. They have a Judicial Branch to interpret the laws. Like most Western countries, Australia just follows the general American model of Democracy, with a few variations.

Meze Gebel and The Great Ocean Road

After a twelve hour train ride from Sydney, I arrived in Melbourne around seven that evening. Sandy was waiting for me with a smile. At first she did not recognize me, the last time we had seen each other, I was typically bare chested with swim trunks. Now, I was wearing significantly more clothing.

It was a two-hour drive from Melbourne to her friend's place in Southern Victoria. On and on we went into the country. It soon became evident that we'd be staying in the middle of nowhere. As we turned onto a secluded wooded road, I fought images of Ivan Milat; how well did I know this Sandy anyway? My lodging, "Meze Gebel" or Mt. Goat, was a small wooded farm, twenty minutes from Cobden.

It was the home of Paty Marshall-Stace, a semi-well known poet/children's author from Sacramento, California, though she's lived in Australia for nearly 40 years. It took only minutes for me to have a stack of books in my hand to read. The three of us stayed up late chatting. It was such a welcoming place; I felt at home immediately.

It wasn't hard to love the place. The grounds had two self-built houses, surrounded by copious gardens. The smaller of the two was basically a big shed built around an old RV camper ("The Magic Caravan!"). Both homes are wood heated, but had running water and power. Ducks and chickens roamed the twisting maze-like footpaths. I was not able to explore the whole grounds during my ten day stay.

The nearby countryside was thoroughly explored. Sandy resided in this area for many years, but had not been back for a visit in nearly ten. She still knew where to find all the sights. She attempted to never take the same road twice in our treks across Victoria and she nearly succeeded. Everyday, we headed to a new place, occasionally visiting Sandy's Bohemian friends, forest dwellers living self built houses, many without electricity, all quite charming. They were all delightful people and quite interesting. Pretty much all of them were either semi-well known artist or published writers. The most interesting of the people I met was Ian, who was more a friend of a friend, than an actual friend of Sandy's. He'd moved into the woods of Tasmania during the Vietnam war and had only recently emerged into society. He was fascinated and loved current television. "There are some really good things going on with TV these days; it reminds me of the seventies!" He loved hip-hop, "I just love the attitude of these people doing hip-hop." He threw in some jive-type hand flailing when he said hip-hop, "It reminds me a lot of the seventies!" He was also completely nuts; many of the things he said didn't make much sense, but I nodded politely.

We also visited an online fly-fishing buddy of my dad's. Long ago, Chris (the friend) had sent me an email, inviting me to visit if I was ever in Victoria. I thanked him for the invite, but at the time I had no intention of visiting that area of the country. Since I did in fact make it his neck of the woods, I called him up and enjoyed a coffee with him and his wife. He invited me along on various fishing excursions in the later months, but I had to decline since I was leaving by then. He wants to head to the states sometime, so I invited him to come fishing in Minnesota.

Sandy proved a great guide. Being an intelligent outdoorsy type for all of her 50 years of life, Sandy was a wealth of knowledge about all the plants, animals, and countryside. Since she lived here long ago, she could recognize all the changes and raping of the beautiful land. Endless expanses of natural forest and bushland are being burned and replaced by tree plantations, a sick pseudo-nature that is quite painful to see. Tourism has taken over much of the coast. Sandy was sad to see many of the quaint, lovely seaside villages become walls of resorts and holiday apartments along the shore. Some of Sandy's secret spots that were to be so exclusive were not so secret anymore. One of her favorite roads, Turton's Track (which she liked to call Gurton's track after her last name), an old logging road through the forests of the Otway Ranges, had been widened, resurfaced, and renamed Turton Tourist Track. It was still a lovely drive.

The Great Ocean Road was incredible. Even though it stretches for only 100km, the coast and surrounding areas were quite varied. Much of this is he result of the Otway Ranges going right through the center. The western end featured some of Australia's most famous surf beaches. It soon becomes a hillside drive, overlooking the craggy coast below. Next is Cape Otway, which the Great Ocean Road actually detours around. We still explored the dense forests of the cape. We even snuck into the lighthouse by way of secret wallaby trail, $11 seemed a bit steep. Don't tell the Australian Parks Service.

The road then heads through the most famous part of the drive, the scenic Port Campbell National Park, home of the Twelve Apostles (eight still remain). The rock formations of this stretch of coast are amazing. Mostly limestone, they were weathered by thousands of years of waves and winds from Antarctica, proving that nature is the world's greatest sculptor. It features towers, arches, caves, cliffs, and other wonders. This is a can't miss part of Australia! The coast changes again to be a little (only a little) less dramatic before ending in Warnalbool.

We didn't do the road in any kind of linear fashion. On day one, we only saw two miles of the coast, which isn't too bad considering there is a worthwhile and different lookout every five feet. We took our time and didn't really push ourselves too hard.

In the end, it was the company that proved the most spectacular part of the trip. Sandy and Paty are both lovely people with whom I could easily share hours of endless conversation, though Paty is a "storyteller", so I did more listening than anything. At various points, one of her random sons would show up. Out of her four kids, three are professional musicians. The oldest, C.W. Stoneking, is one of Australia's finest bluesmen. It was quite inspiring to be surrounded by artists all the time. I didn't want to leave; it was so relaxing to just kick back in the country, sleeping in the cool, crisp, clean air under a 20 pound pile of blankets. Alas, I had already stayed there nearly a week longer than planned and had to leave. Paty and Sandy invited me back (Paty incessantly was trying to convince me to move to Australia.) if I'm ever in the country again. They also hooked me up with some addresses around Australia, New Zealand, and the US of their random friends. It was a sad exodus, but I was getting quite use to this over the last few weeks.