Driving on the Opposite Side of the Road: January 19th- 25th

January 19^th- 25^th 

            I am having my first class today, and I am honestly excited to get some organization and structure into my life. The classes here are wild, chaotic, and the teachers have so far lacked displaying much control of the students. Two seats down from sits a guy with hair past his rib line, which you can see because his black shirt is completely unbuttoned. He has yet to take his sunglasses off yet, and his phone just rang and startled by the ringer he jumped up and yelled “FUCK!” He raises his hand by giving a rock on symbol that is ev

en more obnoxious because of his grotesquely long ringer nails. In my second class 4 phones have now rung. The teacher laughs it off somewhat. At JMU I don’t even know what would happen in a class, but I don’t imagine seeing t

oo much laughing. Make that 5 phones.

            The 20^th is the first day that I think I’ve had 3 square meals since I left on the trip. Before this I was scraping by... eating whenever I could or felt completely starved. We are going to Surfers again tonight... $10 for a ride there and back and a free drink. I am leaving again to see the other nightlife in Surfers... not for long though. All the bars have a $20 cover; what a joke. It’s only Tuesday. So I return to my fellow comrades right where I left them and grab another VB. My stomach is starting to crave anything greasy, unhealthy, and

 cheap. I convince a friend that this will be a good decision and he follows me. We munch on our Kebobs which are really like burritos and skewers are really like kebobs. Make that 4 square meals. After our stomachs are satisfied we head to the bus stop and wait to climb into the crammed, stuffy, smelly drunk tank for the ride home.

            This morning I really craved some coffee. I haven’t had coffee since I left and I’m contemplating getting a coffee for the common room. Although I kind of like being self sufficient and taking full responsibility for the tiredness that I have been exponentially attaining since I left for this trip. Screw it, coffee tomorrow.

            It has been a few days since I last wrote and still no coffee, although I did buy some today.

            The longest weekend ever has finally come to an end. I had no class from last Wednesday 21^st til today, Sunday, the 25^th. We have been up to the usual nonsense: a pregame with poor man’s wine, various drinking games (7,11,or Doubles; Pointers [Shoulders]; Thumper; Buzz, and Fingers), and going out. Tonight will be the third night that I have stayed in. Although there has been more drinking since we got here than should be allowed in the entire semester, there has been some productivity when we awake from our caves mid-morning. 

We have a car!

            Year: Old

            Make: Holden

            Model: Commodore

            Color: Red

            She is a beauty and I expect that the perfect name shall come soon. After the third trip to Rent-A-Bomb in Southport, just northwest of Surfer’s, we sealed the deal and even got our Salesman Glen to throw in insurance and registration. The trip to Rent-A-Bomb is a mission in and of itself. First you have to take a bus to Surfer’s, then another to Australia Fair. Here you walk, and walk down Nerang Street until you reach a sketchy looking building with sketchy looking and sounding used car salesmen. The deal was basically already done, so we finalized with some autographs, cash exchanges, and weary handshakes. The car was now ours!

 Rory would be the first to drive. Nearly scared shitless I hopped in the front seat. With seatbelts fastened we took off. We got directions from Glen as how to get back to school, even copied down directions from Google Maps, but we quickly through those out and relied on gut and intuition. We had made it home alive, now celebrate we must. As the four of us were cooking up steak, cracking our first beers, and exchanging some stories, I finally felt accomplished for the car mission and as if we were doing things right. Smiles were followed by statements like “We are in Australia,” “We have a car,” and “We will never be slaves to the public transportation in the Gold Coast ever again.”

This week is going to be much different. I can surf every morning. I do have all my classes, and I even picked up another... a film class, another film class.

I need to start planning trips, making lists, and regulating my cash outflow. 

Clubs and Jugs: January 11th- January 18th

January 11^th- January 18^th 

            My liver gets the night off. Monday night. This is the second night that I haven’t gone out since I have left and it has severely caught up to me. My crew of pirates and bizarros have been drinking more $8 boxed red wine than some small countries.  My memory has been bugging me lately. I’m not sure if it’s the continuous binge drinking, the jet lag, culture shock, or what, but I don’t like it. Last semester already seems like an eternity away, a former life. It all goes by so fast... all you can do is live.

            The first week at school has been ridiculous, to say the least. The campus is perfect, small but perfect. I was really surprised too because normally colleges flaunt there buildings, surrounds, and technology. They want to look sexy in college informational literature. This school only had a few snapshots of kids and an arch. A modest view for how beautiful the campus really is. We have gone out to Surfer’s a few times for a wild night life. Every Thursday a bus totes students from the on campus bar, Don’s, to the heart of the Gold Coast night life. Most of the bars here are just clubs. Raging, dancing, binge drinking scenes lit by strobe lights and music is provided by only the greatest ‘old’ rap songs that have been out of style for weeks in the states. A rap song being out for weeks is like years when comparing it to anything else. But no one complains... everyone loves it.

            The on campus bar has pitchers for $7. The beer isn’t that great, but when I order another I have to remind myself to call it a ‘jug’ to avoid the $2 American Idiot Tax they tack on if you call it a ‘pitcher.’

I was over this stuffy bar: most everyone was from Bond and all my friends were dancing in the epicenter of the ecstasy invested rave. I left in search of another site. I stumbled down the streets of tall sky scrapers and palm trees. Solitude felt as good as my buzz. It was Monday night so needless to say not many places were hopping, but I saw a few people waiting to have their IDs checked so I stepped into line and entered a place called “The Bedroom.” Beds literally lined the walls of the dance floor. I thought the last place was insane, it was. I grabbed a beer and watched the freakshow from the perimeter. After snagging a slice of pizza I met back up with some friends and we split a bus ride home. The next couple days included a couple surf sessions and beach days and the car search. The surf sessions were nothing to brag about, but I could really tell that Snapper Rocks gets a ridiculous line up. The next couple nights included the same debauchery of those former.

            The car search is looking really promising and I think that I’ll have wheels by the end of the week. I can’t wait for how much freedom that will allow for. I’m getting a little apprehensive about driving on the opposite side of the road, but this place is basically American Proof. There are signs along the streets saying “do not enter,” “keep left,” and off sidewalks it literally says “look left” with an arrow.

            Although there are hints to summer all around: 90 degree weather, sunny day after sunny day, tourists questioning bus schedules, it has finally hit me. When they mean that there is no ozone here and to reapply every hour or so, they mean it. My back is peeling like an onion. Starting from the middle and working its way to the outskirts of my shoulders and sides, the proof that I have been fried is ever apparent. Now I know that it is summer... I have one good burn under my belt.  

I Live in the Future: January 6th- January 10th

It was 45 degrees and a rainy mess. It was January 6^th and I being taken to the airport by my Dad. After a few days of stuffing my board bag and backpack to the gills the time had finally arrived and I was about to be traveling for the next 2 days to reach Australia. After lying to the counter woman at American Airlines about how many boards I have in my board bag, she tells me that we must weigh it. I lift the 8ft weight onto the scale only to realize that it is 20 pounds over weight and the extra bag that  my Dad told me to bring ‘just in case’ was sitting behind my bedroom door 45 minutes away. My Dad got the bag.

Norfolk to Saint Louis. Much to my surprise the Saint Louis airport has security check in at each gate. In search of food I walked just barley over the line of no return when I realize that I am going to have to go through security all over again. Saint Louis checks me a little harder, and in return my bag is searched on the sidelines as other travelers and tourists alike pass me by. The Searcher has found my liquor, of which I have illegally attained. He explains to me that all liquids must fit inside a quart sized bag. I sacrifice my toothpaste to in order to fit all of the airplane bottles of Jack Daniels and move on. A Wolfgang Puck chicken pizza and I take off again.

LA. I have about 5 hours to kill. I read, call some friends, and size up the other kids in the airport that are the likely suspects of Australearn. I don’t really pay attention to any in particular until I get on the plane for the 13 hour flight to Brisbane. Unfortunately, the Qantas airplane seat lottery has provided me with a middle seat, or to the rest of us, ‘the bitch.’ I am sardined in the middle of two girls named Ashley, and one is from Tech. We shoot the small talk and actually know some of the same people.

In spite of my seating arrangement, I go ahead and warn the girls about my sudden twitching episodes when I awake from sleep in a public place. They laugh. The flight is suppose to leave at 11:50 pm (2:50 am my time), but is running about 30 minutes behind. We finally exit the gate and approach the runway when there is a loud ‘Pop.’ Yes the right tire has just burst and yes we have to go back to the gate and have it fixed. They say it will take 1 hour, but it’s finally done in just under 2. We attempt for round 2 and successfully take off at around 2:30 am (5:30 am my time). I sleep more than I would have thought and after skipping January 7^th we land around 10 am (no idea my time) on my 21^st birthday. After missing our flight to Cairns the group is all put on a flight around 1pm, so we have some time to kill.

I am ashamed to say that the American in me decided to spend his first Australian dollar on Subway. It is my first ‘Australian’ meal and I am still wondering what was put on my sandwich instead of the spicy mustard that I asked for. After I eat fresh, I people watch read, and make new friends. As we board the plane I unknowingly say goodbye to the last sunlight I will see for the next 3 days. The flight from Brisbane to Cairns is about 2 hours, but seems to pass faster after 4 Jack and Cokes and a few sketches.

The sweat is streaming down my face as I exit the plane. Finally no more planes for a few days. After haggling with the desk people about my surfboards, we all hop on a bus.

There are signs saying funny things. “XXXX,” “Pokies Here,” and word after word spelled incorrectly. Everything is measured differently... trying to figure out what petrol (gas) costs requires a money conversion then a liquid measurement conversion. I’m certainly glad that at least Time is measured the same way (for the most part). Imagine a measurement of a centi-hour, an hour that is just a little under 60 mintues. But then again there wouldn’t be minutes; it would be a centi-mintue.

We are staying at a place called “Gilligan’s:” A hostel hotel type deal with a huge indoor/outdoor bar on the bottom floor. Showers are taken, dinner is eaten, and drinking begins. Pregaming consists of my left over airplane bottles and a three dollar coke. Then downstairs we go. Shots of Absinthe and strange tasting beers all around... the night soon becomes a blur. The following day we go to a rainforestation. Here is where the site of kangaroos and sedated koalas really makes me feel like I’m in Australia. After another night much like the one before we awake on a rainy day and head to the port for the 2 hour boat ride to the Great Barrier Reef.

It is rainy out and seems like it will stay this for the entire time we are in Cairns. The rainy season holds up to its name. I strap up and hop in the water. Paradise Reef is illuminated with all sorts of fish and other ocean dwellers: Coral Trout, Clown Fish, Red Bass, Large Clams, Starfish, and Stingrays. It is simply amazing. The whole reef sways with the tide and smaller fish school together and fight the tides behind large coral heads. Snorkeling is hard work, especially when the tide is running. We head off to the second location. The second place is the reef off of Michaelmas Key. The water is shallower here creating entrapping mazes within the sharp coral walls. Sea life is abundant as before and I crave for bigger eyes to allow me to see all the ocean dwellers that live here.

We eventually have a few beers and head in, and after a quick nap we hit the town for the last night in Cairns to a crazy more or less local bar called the Woolshed.