An island of a different color

I feel like I should start this post, the mother of all my blog posts, with a big AH-HEM and a toast. Basically I have more to say than I can possibly fit into one reasonably trimmed recount, so I'm going to go ahead and let the words flow. My apologies to those of you who fall asleep, faint, or simply lose interest while reading, but at least I forewarned you.

Why Tasmania?
Many of you may be wondering why. the hell. you would ever, ever, EVER go to Tasmania? The answer is simple: I have absolutely no idea. Early in the semester, I was discussing possible spring break with friends, and the usual destinations sprang up: Fiji, the Gold Coast, and the Whitsunday islands. None of us were too enthralled by these options, so Mallory suggested Tasmania offhand and we pounced on it. I had no idea, so I will mention for everyone's benefit, that Tasmania is an Australian state. It basically has a ton of national parks, hiking, and wildlife, and no people. It's about the size of West Virginia (roughly 25,000 sq miles), but Tasmania's population is about 500,000 and WV's is about 2 million. 40 percent of the entire population lives in one city, Hobart. These numbers more or less indicate the vast emptiness of the island. I use the word "bizarre" to describe it.

Pre-Departure Drama
Do we stay in hostels? Are there buses? What is there to actually DO? These were all important questions we researched the crap out of. It turns out Tasmania had quite a few hostels to offer, but most of them were in over-hyped towns or small cities that had little natural beauty to offer. Additionally, the roads in Tasmania are arguably the windiest and most remote on the planet, so a seemingly short drive from city to city can take an uncomfortable six hours. There is virtually no public transportation, and little in the way of civilized activity to partake in. About five days before our scheduled flight, we agreed renting a car and camping was the most cost-effective and sensible way to go. The great thing about Australia is that oftentimes it is cheaper to wait until the last minute to book vacations, unlike the USA. Our indecisiveness paid off! Not to mention a patch of dirt good enough for a tent is monumentally cheaper than a hotel room.

Day 1
I hopped out of bed at 5:30 am on Sunday, February 28 to catch an early flight to Hobart, which is in the Southeastern center of Tasmania. We landed at about 10:30 am and were greeted by the following sign at the airport:



We got a huge kick out of this, and knew immediately we would love Tasmanians!
The airport is almost as small as the one in Byron Bay, so after about a three second walk we found the car rental place and picked up the car. It was TINY! It's called a Nissan Tilda, and it's really meant for a set of parents with a maximum of two young kids. We stuffed that car to the brim, and were a little nervous about its ability to drive on unpaved roads, but it turned out to be okay. Well, not okay, but we managed to handle all the problems it gave us with relative ease. After purchasing a map at a nearby gas station, we started off for the Tasman National Park in the most Southeastern peninsula of the island.
The approximately two hour drive was smooth, and we were completely psyched and confident until we got to the park's "entrance." There was a sign bearing the name of our campsite, Fortescue Bay, so we turned onto the gravel road it indicated. Here's where we ran into some trouble. This gravel "road" was LONG. The going was SLOW. And there were about 50 turnoff points that may or may not have led to our destination. We maintained our faith in the existence of our campground, especially considering I had a printed confirmation of the booking we made, but were still extremely nervous until we stumbled on the "visitors centre" about 30 minutes later. We had lost cell phone service about an hour earlier, and hadn't minded until we entered the deserted park.
I should mention that at this point in the day it was about 2 pm and freezing cold. By freezing, I mean mildly chilly in Boston terms, but for five college kids with one backpack full of tee-shirts each, it was disconcerting. The woman in the "centre" was bundled up and had a fire going, and seemed as though she had suffered an extremely lonesome weekend. She told us we had pretty much free choice of any of the campsites, so we piled back into our car and picked the most homey mud patch. Here it is:



I know, it's beautiful, right? In all seriousness, though, we were all so excited for our first tent-pitching experience. This was also the only campsite we were spending two nights at, so it was great that it was one of the best.
After we had everything set up, we piled back into the car to visit Port Arthur. Port Arthur is the oldest historic convict site in Australia, and is Tasmania's biggest tourist attraction. It was only about 35 minutes from our campsite (25 of which were spent getting up the driveway), so we didn't mind the quick trip. We arrived about an hour before closing time, so Kate, Mal, and I paid a reduced price to get in while the boys went fishing nearby.
I have never been one to believe in ghosts or anything similar, but I will admit that I felt a haunting presence in Port Arthur. Though the day was clear for some of the time, the air felt thick and the buildings crowded, despite the fact that we were the only people on site. Here's a photo of the view from the grounds, which looks beautiful, but keep in mind it was the most brutal convict colony in the European world.



You might notice the rainbow in the photo, which acts as a convenient segue into my next topic. The weather in Tasmania, but specifically Port Arthur, was unbelievably wild! As I mentioned, it was chilly and sunny when we first arrived. Within 20 minutes of being at Port Arthur, it started to pour rain. This quickly turned into hail, which was blown away by strong winds before the sun came out again! It was surreal. Even more strange, the boys were only 15 minutes away fishing and said it stayed sunny where they were the whole evening! How weird! We asked a woman at the front desk if this was normal, and she said Tasmania is known as the land of four seasons in a day. This made us slightly nervous for the week ahead, but other than a few rain showers this was the most inclement weather we faced.
When we met up with the boys a little while later, our plans to return to camp and eat dinner were temporarily forgotten. We were shocked to see one of our tires was completely flat, and the others were all losing air quickly. We had noticed that the tires were bald when we left the parking lot, but the mechanic at the Budget stand assured us they were safe for the week. He was WRONG! We called Budget from the front desk at Port Arthur, and learned we were basically on our own unless we wanted to backtrack to Hobart and swap cars at the airport. So, we slapped the spare tire on the car and prayed we made it to camp in one piece.
After a slow, bouncy ride to camp, we built a fire and shared soup and beans. We all shuffled to sleep early after the long day of traveling, excited for the next day of exploring.

Day 2, Cape Hauy and A Wallaby Attack
As I mentioned, we were spending two nights at Fortiscue Bay, so Monday was the only day that didn't begin with a scramble to pack up our tents. We visited a mechanic shop quickly in the morning to see about a new tire, but the only mechanic on site had taken off for the day, much to the confusion of his saleswoman.
Tasman National Park offers several trails, ranging from extreme beginner to expert, so we picked one somewhere in the middle that started near our campsite. It ended up taking us about six hours roundtrip after we added several detours. The trail ran along the coast for about a quarter of a mile, then turned inland as it climbed upwards. At a lookout point somewhere in the middle, the trail veered almost 90 degrees left and steeply down. We shrugged this change in direction off as nothing, not realizing that we would have to go up again to get to our final destination. Needless to say, we all got a good workout that day!
The hike was beautiful. As many of you can attest to, it's hard to describe experiences like this in words, so here are a few photos that do a better job of illustrating the day than I can articulate...







As you can see, the sights were amazing, and we had a fantastic day. It was sunny and about 80 F all day, so we really lucked out. When we descended back to our campsite, we decided to dive in the ocean for a bit to cool down. What we were not expecting was to freeze in the absolutely bitter cold water! We forgot that the part of Tasmania we were in was the closest piece of land to Antarctica, so the ocean is notoriously cold there. Oops! We had a great time swimming around to stay warm, despite the risk of hypothermia. After that little jaunt we were in desperate need of a shower and fire, so we "showered" in a water faucet (which was just as cold as the ocean) and then bundled up by the fire. It was almost a full moon, too, so we walked down to where we swam when the sun set to see the moon and stars. It was amazing.

Day 3
After surviving a midnight wallaby attack, we quickly packed up our tents and sleeping bags to head to our next destination: Freycinet National Park. Freycinet is about two and a half hours North of Tasman, and on the coast as well, so the drive was quite scenic and pleasant. We managed a detour to the airport, where we swapped cars after insisting ours was not safe to drive. Luckily, the second mechanic we dealt with was extremely kind and accommodating, so we barely lost any time.
We passed numerous beautiful beaches on our drive North and tried to stop for a quick swim, but it was harder to find a pullover spot than we expected. Finally, we slipped into a tiny parking lot and found ourselves inches away from a completely empty, clean, beautiful beach. The water was still cold here, but much more bearable during the day and brilliant sunshine. I went for a run along the sand and then played around in the water with the others for about 30 minutes. We finally realized we were on our way to another beach at our campsite, so we were less sad to desert the random paradise and pile back into the car for the last hour.
Most of Freycinet's campgrounds are beachside. Our reserved sand patch was on Richardson's Beach, which is located in a quiet little bay on the Western coast of the park's peninsula. The grounds were very clean and much more populous than Tasman National Park's, which was great because we felt less nervous about potential death by animal attack.
Ramsey and I swam for about 20 minutes along the coast while the others collected rocks. It was a beautiful, warm day, and the beach was quiet despite the presence of several other campers and caravans in the surrounding area. As evening neared, the boys started to get antsy and decided they were in desperate need of meat for dinner, so they took the car and drove back towards a grocery store we had stopped at earlier. They promised us they would be gone for a maximum of 45 minutes, so, naturally, they were gone for about two hours. When they returned, we noticed the car was splattered with something. Sadly, that something turned out to be quail guts. The boys took the car for two short hours and managed to hit a quail. Needless to say, we were glad it rained the next day to wash away the "residue." After we took absolutely FREEZING cold showers, we heated up the meat they found and had a lovely steak and beans dinner. It was a very clear night, so we sat on the beach star gazing for a while before we turned in and burrowed into our sleeping bags.

Day 4, Part 1
Freycinet National Park has tons of amazing hiking options, so we woke up early to take advantage before we had to move on to the next park. We opted to take the Wineglass Bay circuit hike, which takes you up to a lookout point and then down towards Wineglass Bay. The Bay is named for its shape, and it is widely known to have some of the clearest water and fine, white sand. This hike was much more challenging than we anticipated, so it took us a bit longer than we'd hoped. However, it ended up working out great that we were delayed, because we ran into a wallaby in the parking lot and became friends with him! Yes, by wallaby I mean small kangaroo. And yes, by friends, I mean we hung out with him for a solid 30 minutes and only left because we were pressed for time. Here are photos of the bay and our new friend...





We said goodbye to our wallaby and clambered into the car at about noon. The next national park we were headed to was supposedly only 30 minutes away, so we were quite excited to get there and continue trekking. About 45 minutes into our drive, we started to grow concerned. About an hour into our drive, we concluded Mapquest was probably wrong, because, after all, we were in the middle of Tasmania. After two hours, we started thinking we should ask somebody where we were. I should mention that the "highway" we had been on for 60 km was dirt. By dirt, I mean dirt. So the going was slow, at best. At around two and a half hours, we had the sense to pull over when we saw the first human we had seen since we left the campground. The farmer we spoke to was exceptionally friendly, and was probably very helpful, but sadly his accent prevented any understanding on our part. He waved his arms around and said something about Elephant Pass, which was new to us, but finally pointed back where we had come from and said we needed to backtrack at least two hours. So, bummed but amused, we loaded in the car again and proceeded onwards, or at least backwards.
To make a long story short, it took us five hours to get to a place that was, in fact, only 30 minutes away from our initial launch point.

Day 4, Part 2
Douglas-Apsley National Park is the most remote place on Earth. I am confident in making this statement, especially after visiting two other national parks in Tasmania. We had experienced serious isolation and three days without cell phone service, but the amount of nothing and no one in Douglas-Apsley was ridiculous. There were literally three, yes THREE, other humans in the entire park. This was the only free campsite we stayed at, and the most (you guessed it) isolated. All of the other campsites had space to park cars and caravans in each individual campsite, but here the car park was a solid ten minute walk away from the designated clearing. We had to walk back and forth several times to stow food and other items that would potentially attract wallabies in the car. Technically, fires were restricted in this park, but the other three people we ran into assured us there was nobody around to yell at us if we decided to bend the rules, so, we did. There was also a "watering hole" about five minutes down the path from our tent with fresh water. It wasn't drinkable, but it was extremely refreshing (read:freezing) to be out of salt water. We sat around the fire eating chicken sandwiches and sharing music and stories before falling asleep. We were woken up in the middle of the night by wolves or dingoes howling, but they sounded fairly far away so we shrugged and went back to sleep.

Day 5
Thursday, March 4 began as the average day in Tasmania did: alarms sounded at 8, we woke up at 9. We ate granola bars, brushed our teeth and spat in a bush, and packed our car to bursting point. I felt content in a way that only stems from a quiet morning in nature. It's fitting that this was the start to the day my Grandpa passed away.

Day 6
After much see-sawing between wanting to stay in Tasmania and wanting to fly home to the States immediately, I realized my Grandpa would want nothing more in the world than for me to enjoy the rest of my time in Tassie- a place he would have loved with every fiber of his being. So, on Friday morning, I leaned on my wonderful friends and headed to Cradle Mountain National Park to enjoy one last day and night in the wild.
Cradle Mountain is Tasmania's most famous hiking spot. The park is located in the island's Northwest center, and is one of the biggest. Its popularity was evident by the presence of other people in the visitors centre. In fact, I reckon we saw more people in the Cradle Mountain National Park Visitors Centre than we did at the Hobart International Airport. Not to mention we passed about thirty other people on our hike, which surpassed the amount of travelers we saw on all our other hikes combined. The park offers several walking trails and hiking circuits for explorers of all levels, so we chose a 2-3 hour circuit around Dove Lake.
It was a beautiful day: not too sunny, but not overly cloudy. We trudged slowly around the lake, pausing often to take in the views and breathe the clean air. I haven't mentioned this yet, but Tasmania has the world's cleanest air. We tried to absorb as much as possible since the likelihood we'll return is, sadly, small. The lake's perimeter was spotted with pebbly beaches, so after a long bout of walking, we found one we liked and relaxed there for a couple of hours, sharing stories. Ramsey and Daniel cast a few fishing lines, but the lake was so quiet that it seemed unlikely any creatures lived there at all. We finished the circuit late in the afternoon.

We camped in the park that night, got soaking wet inside our sleeping bags despite our tent's rain cover, and woke up early the next morning to drive five hours back to Hobart and the airport. We were fortunate to find vacancy in a hostel for the night, so after we checked in there we walked around the city and opted to see a movie. Sunday morning, we flew back to Sydney. We were sore, exhausted, and probably smelled terrible, but all that paled in the wake of our unforgettable time in the wilderness.

So to Tasmania: you are weird, you are empty, and you are beautiful. We thank you for a great week. And to my readers: thanks for staying interested. I appreciate your attention more than I can say, and I hope you are able to experience Tasmania someday for yourselves!

Dedicated to Peter Bowles O'Brien

I've a feeling we're not in Sydney anymore...

I just looked at the date of my last post, and I am ashamed to see my most recent update is a month old! If Mrs. Katz were here, she would give me a big tatzen. Luckily, I have an excuse for this deficit. My day planner acts as physical evidence of the fact that the past four weeks have been some of the busiest of my life. I am honestly surprised I can still stand up straight. Better than that, I am refreshed and ready for the next series of adventures! So, let's get down to it, shall we?

We returned from Melbourne on Wednesday, February 17, and on Friday the 19 we flew out to Byron. It was just Mallory, Kate, and me, and we were very excited to break off from the group for a bit and relax away from the city. Kate flew out of Sydney earlier in the day, but Mallory and I had class until 2:00 so we left in the evening. The moment we hit the tarmac, we knew we were in for a quiet weekend. This was our plane:



Luckily, I am very comfortable on tiny planes after flying to St. Barths so many times, so I was not too nervous. We landed in Byron Bay at about 8:15 pm, and were planning on catching a shuttle bus we had heard about to our hostel. However, we got off the plane, and immediately found ourselves alone and feeling lost. The other passengers all had prearranged rides or family members there to meet them, the flight crew evaporated, and one of the two taxis waiting for arrivals hurried away. We did not get the memo that the airport shuts down at 6 pm. Luckily, one taxi remained waiting. We asked the driver what our "options" were to get to town, and he said there was only one: to take his cab. After learning the ride would be about 8 times as costly as the shuttle we anticipated, we accepted the fact that we had no other way out of the airport. So, off we went! It took us about 40 minutes to get there, but we were relieved that we made it.

After our brief panic at the airport, we were delighted to discover our hostel is known as the nicest in Byron Bay. It's called Nomad's, and it's brand new and in the center of town. We unpacked our things and met up with Kate, who had explored all day and led us to the main street (which, by the way, was about 10 feet away from our hostel's front door). We walked around for a few minutes, but soon the essays we had just turned in caught up with us, and we retired pretty early.

On Saturday, we were out the door by 8:30 am. We started the day with some delicious yogurt and muesli smoothies, and then headed for the beach. I should probably explain the layout of the town to make things more clear...

Essentially, Byron Bay has one street that reminded me of a hippie-esque Nantucket, because in both towns, the main street is the only one worth perusing. There are multiple restaurants, clothing stores, souvenir stands, and swim/surf shops on it. There are also several agencies of sorts offering kayaking tours, surf rentals, snorkel equipment, etc. This main street runs perpendicular to the beach, and opens up directly into the beach's parking lot, so you can walk from the top of the street into the ocean. There is little to do in Byron out of the water, which, for me, was ideal. Here's a picture of the main street...



As you can see, it's pretty small. Anyways, for Saturday, we had pre-booked a dolphin kayaking tour. We were expecting a van or bus of some sort to come pick us up, but we were amused to see our ride was a rugged Jeep with two other girls thrown in the trunk. We piled in alongside them, laughing, and headed for the beach, not really knowing what to expect.

I was horrified to learn that we were required to sign a release form, which promised we wouldn't sue the company if we drowned or were eaten by sharks. Our tour guides seemed amused by our (my) fear of potential death by shark attack, so they kindly pointed out that it had been a full two days since the last shark sighting, and we "should" be okay if we stay with the group. Needless to say, it took a lot of willpower and few pushes from Mallory to get me into the kayak. We had an amazing time, though we didn't see any dolphins, and only capsized four or five times. Everyone else managed to stay in their boats a little better than we did. Here's a shot of the beautiful beach we launched from (also the only beach)...



After our sea kayaking tour, as we renamed it, we returned to the beach and then the hostel to regroup for dinner. We had some delicious kebabs and hummus, and then made our way towards the water to watch the sunset. When we got near the beach, we heard a drum circle going on, so we went to check it out and ended up staying for about two hours. There were around 12 musicians playing consistently, and others would drop in and out of the circle as they pleased with various instruments. Everyone involved in the circle and around it was extremely friendly, and people felt comfortable enough to dance and lose themselves in the music. Kate, Mal, and I danced on a cliff overlooking the beach while the sun set. It was beautiful, and the music and laughter surrounding us made it an unforgettable experience. We checked out a couple of bars after this, but didn't last long.

Back at our hostel, we chatted with our roommates, Kate and Ellie, who are from England and traveling around Australia/New Zealand for a year. They were so friendly and fun, and we quickly became friends with them. We also got to know a Swiss guy named Rafael pretty well, and the six of us had a lot of fun together. It was refreshing to hang out with people outside of the BU program, and we've managed to stay in touch with all three of our new friends!

On Sunday, we had no plans but to explore the various shops and restaurants in the town. We made friends with the owner of a vintage store and ended up chatting with her for a couple of hours as we modeled clothes for her. The woman who sewed the clothes together wasn't there, but the salesgirl told us all the fabrics were taken from vintage dresses, tops, and skirts. They were beautifully made and very original. I was the only one of the three of us who didn't make a purchase! After our little fashion show, we headed back to the beach to relax one last time and take in some more sun. We were reveling in the chance to lounge, because we had final exams and essays due later in the week.

Sunday night, we ate some of the best sushi I've ever tasted. In the middle of the restaurant was a sushi train, where they have a sushi-making island in the middle with a train with plates on it circling around the bar. It tasted so fresh and rich, and the chef nearest to us got a big kick out of how excited we were! She kept laughing and refilling the plates with our favorite pieces. Here's a picture of my favorite one, which might look gross but it was AMAZING!! It's salmon with some sort of veggies on the inside, and the wrap was tempura with some yummy sauce on top. Mmmm....



That pretty much topped off our weekend in Byron. After dinner, I went and sat on the beach for about an hour after the sun had set, stargazing and enjoying the fresh air. The next day, Kate flew out early and Mal and I explored some more before our evening flight. The quiet weekend was exactly what the three of us needed to rejuvenate our tired brains and brace ourselves for the busy months ahead! I haven't sat still since that last day on the beach, but I think the most memorable part of the trip was the genuine friendliness of the people. I must admit I'm biased towards Tasmania for sights after spending a week there, so I might not be doing Byron's views justice! Thanks for reading! Stories from Tassie to come...

Follow the Great Ocean Road

Note: I started this post last Thursday, and finally finished it this morning! There are not enough hours in the day...

As I sit here, blankly staring at my computer screen, my mind is sluggishly contemplating how to proceed with this post. I suppose I will begin by explaining that I am more exhausted than I have ever been in my life, but though my face is too tired to smile, I am beaming inside. And so I begin my story. I'm going to share the briefest version, which will still be long...

Sunday morning, I woke up at 6:30 am to board an 8:15 flight to Melbourne. There were about 130 of us going on the trip, so we divided into two groups, and I was lucky to be on the earlier flight. From the minute we boarded the bus, I knew the trip was going to be one of the best of my life. Jeremy, my friend, gets extremely nervous when he flies, which he reflects by rapping and dancing in his seat (his nervous tick). This was quite entertaining to everyone involved. The minute we landed, we boarded a bus to our hotel, which was absolutely gorgeous and situated on the edge of a park on Exhibition Street. I'll interject and mention that Melbourne is a grid-city, which made it unreasonably easy for us to learn the city in just a few days.

Our first excursion (still divided into half the group) was to the Victoria markets. I'm a huge sucker for markets, so this was especially exciting for me. I split off from my friends for a while and wandered through the food sections for a few hours. Fresh fruits, vegetables, breads, chocolates, jams, candies, and other delicious edibles were abundant in every direction. I was in heaven. I succumbed to two treats: a white chocolate champagne truffle, which no words can describe, and a jar of passionfruit butter. Who knew such amazing things existed?! After my sugar fix, group two of the travelers arrived and we met up to press forward through the city.

From the markets, we walked to Brunswick Street, which was recommended to us by RA Dan's Australian cousin. We explored a number of cool holes-in-the-wall and sat down for a refreshing crushed apple cider at the Black Cat Lounge. Brunswick Street is located on the outskirts of the grid, so it's very quiet and removed from the bustling city life.

After our rest, I split off from the group again to check out St. Patrick's Cathedral, pictured below. It was breathtaking, both inside and out. It is set in a sort of courtyard/garden area and surrounded by a low stone and iron fence. The crystal clear sky brought out a blue undertone in the church's grey stones, which only added to its majesty. I sat inside for a while and then walked around the perimeter, all the while in awe. It was too big to capture entirely, but this photo shows the entrance.



At this point, it was mid-afternoon and I was eager to head over to the St. Kilda festival. St. Kilda is a really cool town outside of Melbourne that's on the water and has a bunch of cool restaurants. Jeremy and I stood way out on a sand bar and watched the clouds roll by for about an hour. There wasn't really a sunset, as it was pretty cloudy, but it was still gorgeous and great to be on the water.

That night, we explored several laneways (alley ways) with cool bars and pubs in them. We capped off the night at the Supper Club, and indulged in some fois grois and delicious white wine. RA Dan and I came up with a great system; I provide the snack and he provides the wine! We all lounged on the rooftop of the bar until the wee hours of the morning, feeling like royalty. It was wonderful.

On Monday morning, RA Dan and I tore ourselves out of bed early to go to a famous pancake spot. I will say that though it took a LOT of willpower to crawl out from under my covers, it was beyond worth it. A great start to the day. After this, we all met up at the RMIT (a university nearby where we were staying) and split off into guided tours of the city. Mine explored the art of graffiti in Melbourne and compared it to Sydney. I had never been very interested in graffiti, but after this tour I find it so fascinating! I learned that it is a legitimate, established art form and there are rules and codes among artists...not to mention about a thousand laws regulating where and when you can paint. Here's an example of one of my favorite pieces we saw...



The tour was so eye-opening for me. I used to think of graffiti as a means of marking territory, in a sense, but now I understand that it is some artists' preferred means of expression. Very cool stuff.

After the graffiti tour, I shared a quick dinner with some friends in Melbourne's Chinatown. Though it's small, they have dozens of restaurants to choose from, so it took a while. After exploring a few new and interesting bars, we settled on another rooftop lounge called Cookie, which is located in a building called the Curtain House. The floor of the roof was lined with turf, and there were lawn chairs sprawled all over the place for people to lounge in and check out the stars. I was introduced to Pimms for the first time- which is an English drink that has cucumber, fruit, and other tasty things in it. Yum! It was a relatively mellow night, but still a blast nonetheless. A good portion of kids from the program showed up, so it was fun chatting with everyone in a new place.

On Tuesday, we woke up at 7 to tour the Great Ocean Road! I was more excited about this than anything else in Melbourne, and I'll say right off the bat that it was a mind-blowing experience. The only downfall was the amount of bus time it involved, but it was worth it to see the 12 Apostles, London Bridge, and lots of wild animals!

Our tour guide, Natalie, was fantastic. She was excited to have a group of youngsters with her, as she usually endures a bus full of elderly tourists more interested in the free tea than anything (so she said). She had a lovely, soothing voice and woke us up with a soft, "We're home, darlings," when we arrived in Sydney. On the contrary, she blasted our choice of music and passionately sang along to "Piano Man" with us. All in all, she was amazing and made the day very special for us.


This is a photo of some of the 12 Apostles. Google them- I'm sure Wikipedia can explain the rock formations better than I can!


London Bridge- which used to be connected to the mainland until, you guessed it, it fell down!


Can you spot the jellies?

Wednesday: the shortened version. Woke up, shared more amazing pancakes (this time hot buttered walnut pancakes), went on a tour of the theatre district of Melbourne with my economics professor. The Melbourne Arts Centre is SO COOL! It looks like the Eiffel Tower on top of a big pebble. See below...



The first floor is actually the sixth floor of the building. It extends five floors below ground level and houses three theaters. That's right, THREE! There is a smaller theatre for more experimental, independent works; a grand state theatre for big-scale productions, and a middle ground theatre for smaller commercial shows. The fourth theatre is in a separate building about 20 seconds away from the main one, and it's made for symphonies and all things acoustic. They were all beautiful, and designed by an ingenious architect. Photos were somewhat prohibited, so I decided to be safe and avoid taking them altogether.

After the tour, I ate some of the best and cheapest sushi of my life with a few friends. I then walked up and down Collins Street, went to the Melbourne Museum, and St. Paul's Cathedral. All were stunning. Later in the day, all 130 of us loaded onto the buses, hearts heavy to leave, and headed back to Sydney (I know, life here is really hard). We got home at about 10 pm, and I was asleep with in a minute of walking through the door. Hands down the best, happiest slumber I've enjoyed in a long, long time. Stories from Byron Bay to come.....

The Seacliff Bridge!



The saltwater river at Stanwell Park Beach



The bizarre but awesome Banks flower! The petals feel like rubber!



The view from the deadly lookout point.....



This is the view from Wallamotta Beach!

Conferrin' with the flowers, Consultin' with the rain

Hello readers! I feel fairly confident addressing you personally, because I've gotten wonderful feedback from both friends and family that confirms the fact that I am NOT a crazy person writing to myself! THANK YOU to everyone who is interested in my stories!! I appreciate it more than I can indicate here.

Now, to get to the fun stuff...my adventures at Australia's Royal National Park! Some of you might be wondering where my stories from Surf Camp have gone, and I'm here to crush your hopes and tell you that surf camp was evidently not in the cards for this Aussie. Due to inclement weather (and I don't use the word inclement lightly), I decided to rearrange my weekend and participate in more land-based activities. I will soon post a video of the weekend's surf that will illustrate my logic.

So, on Saturday morning, I woke up at the unfriendly hour of 6:30 am (sorry Chels, but I'm a Ballentine, we don't get up early) to board a bus to the Park. We were led by Andy, a guide with Understand Down Under, or UDU. They offer a variety of tours through the park, all of which include mountains of food and endless activities. If you ever find yourself in Sydney or nearby, I highly recommend their tours!

Back to the point...the Park is about a 35-40 minute drive outside of Sydney. Established in 1879, it is the second oldest national park in the world, after Yellowstone, and it spans a huge area. I'm having trouble remembering exactly how many square km it is, but I do know that it's HUGE! So we arrived at a picnic point on the edge of the park, in the rain, took some pictures of purple swamp hens, and when Andy realized none of us were remotely phased by the rain, we plowed onward to our bush walking site.

The 18 of us (13 BU program kids, 5 French backpackers) piled back into our van for the wet, windy ride up to Wallamotta Beach. From the beach, we took about an hour long bush walk on a trail through the rain forest. We ate fresh figs off of a tree, tasted grains out of seeds that Aboriginals harvested, and sucked on celery-like grass stalks to stay hydrated. We learned about the Banks flower, which I will upload a picture of, and saw a diamond-backed python (not venomous). There was a lookout spot that was only accessible by sliding down a deadly rock-face, so, naturally, we all took part and snapped some [cloudy] shots of the view.

At the end of the bush walk, there was a final view of the cliffs and horizon that I will never forget. There was an iron-rail fence along the edge of the cliff, so we were able to lean forward and look directly down on the powerful surf below. This is where I took a video, and almost got lost from the group because I couldn't tear myself away from the site. In the video, there is a rock off to the left that's sitting about 50 ft away from the base of the cliff I was standing on. We estimated it was about 30 feet long, so judging by this we could tell the waves were at least 15-20 ft high. The waves I captured with my camera were the smallest ones we saw. It was INSANE!!!!!!

After my near-abandonment, we all boarded the bus and drove onwards to Stanwell Park, an area next to the National Park with a beach and picnic site. There was a marsh just above the beach, and a saltwater river ran from the marsh, across the beach, into the ocean. The water was calm and warm in this little river, and it was lined with big rock formations that looked like a small-scale version of a mountain valley. It was so beautiful. Here, too, the surf was unbelievably rough. I don't usually shy away from the ocean, but I was reluctant to beyond knee-deep. Even Andy insisted we didn't go further than waist-deep.

After our brief ocean-frolic, we learned how to throw boomerangs and spears. Andy said our group was one of the most naturally gifted he's seen, which we took as a compliment, but I'm still not sure if it was one. There are some cool action shots that he snapped of us throwing them. If you have a Facebook account, click on the link below and you can flip through all of his pictures. If not, we were given a boomerang at the end of the trip so I can teach whoever wants to learn back at home!

We ate lunch at Stanwell Park, too, which included a huge spread of sandwiches, dips , and cookies. YUM! I don't think I've ever been so hungry. At this point, it was late afternoon and we were completely soaked to the bone, so we decided to crank the heat in our van and do one last loop to see the Seacliff Bridge. You might be able to deduce that it runs over the sea along the cliffs. Supposedly it is the only bridge that runs over the ocean...but I don't know if I believe that little fact!

At the Seacliff Bridge, we took turns sprinting down to the view point, snapping icy photos, and hurrying back inside. The wind was extremely powerful there because of the natural coves, so it was hard to stay outside for more than a few minutes. After we gathered ourselves at the end of this little relay, we dove into our backpacks for dry, fluffy towels, and were disappointed to discover sopping wet rags. Evidently, our "sheltered" spot at the lunch site was not so sheltered. My wallet, book, Ipod, shoes, towel, and bag itself were all DRENCHED!! 3 days later, I still have things strewn about my room, drying.

About 99% of the group instantly fell asleep on the ride home, but I was in the front row of the van with a friend, so Andy entertained us with stories and jokes. Somehow, after profuse thanks to Andy and a steaming hot shower, my friends (who didn't go on the tour) had me ready to go out within 20 minutes of arriving home.

Our motto here in Sydney is "power through," so I took a deep breath and readied myself for some drinks and dancing! We had a blast. When the bar closed, we opted to tackle the 40 minute walk home, and guess what happened......we got SOAKED! It started down pouring the second we stepped outside, and ceased only when we were safely back in our rooms. All I could do was laugh and indulge in another boiling shower.

Needless to say, the day was completely unforgettable. Sunday was also an awesome day, but this post is already long enough. Short version: Kate, Jeremy, and I explored Paddington, a neighborhood on the way to Bondi Beach. There's a bar there called The Fringe that offers live music every Sunday night. We watched 3 local artists and shared some delicious bar foods. We were over there for almost 10 solid hours and loved every minute.

I have some work due this weekend, but it's all interesting material so I have zero complaints. Again, sorry about the lack of surf camp, but I wouldn't trade the alternative experience for anything in the world!! Hope everyone is surviving the record-breaking snowfalls in the US! Please feel free to e-mail me stories and updates about what's going on at home. I'd love to hear your news. Lots of love to everyone!!!

Photos: http://www.daytoursydney.com.au/index.php?option=com_wrapper&view=wrapper&Itemid=349
(I'm the one with the ice blue raincoat, black shorts, and white sneakers)