February 19th- 22nd: Camping and Car Trouble

February 19^th (night) – 22^nd

            For those of you that know about it: I just pressed play to “Avoiding Catatonic Surrender” on my iTunes; the good late night JMU favourite. Actually that’s not all true… I just pressed reply because it just finished. I really haven’t been listening to too much Tim Barry / any other acoustic music that reminds me of being in Harrisonburg for the winter. Not sure why. I guess it just throws my vibe here off kilter a little.

            That’s beyond the point… From the looks of where my pasty white thighs meet my waist it appears that I am constantly wearing a red t-shirt, but I assure you that it is only severe sunburn.               

            Thursday I had packed and hopped in the driver’s seat by default only to find out that I would be soon driving through near torrential downpours for the next 2hours with what had to be considered the bottom 1st percentile. The only things that I could actually make out were the tail lights from the car in front of me, and it was not even dark yet. The sheer power of the rain had shattered my vision. I continued north for another 3 hours or so pulling up to my destination at about 10 something. My crew and I all checked into our respective rooms, cheers-ed, chugged our beers, and went to the bar to meet the other 50 yahoos that had come on the trip with us this weekend. The bar closed at 12 and we had to be on a bus by 6 hence no one started luring too hard.

            I awoke… confused and tired. Friday I was up from 5 am til 1230 am running off morning coffee and evening energy drinks. I was beat. We got on the bus and headed to the 4WD place to pick up our weekend whips, but first we had to watch a couple “educational” boring ass videos.

            Woolworths was our first stop. The 8 of us settled for hotdogs, bread, peanut butter, ham, processed cheese, and steaks (which we would later not eat). Next, and more importantly it was now 9 and the bottle shop next door was ready for our business. Our car was stacked: 2 boxes of wine, 5 30 cases of 1.4 beers, and a bottle of Tequila. We had more alcohol per person than a small country and we were ready to get to the ferry and get camping.

            The ferry ride was a quick 40 minutes or so followed by a 20 minute drive through the jungle before we could open it up on the beach driving wherever we chose.

            We drove North up to Indian Heads for the afternoon to do some picture taking, handstand competing, fish catching, and standard textbook procedure goofing off. As the sun started for slide down the other side of the sky we decided that we should set up shop with plenty of daylight out.

            Our camp site was perfect: 5 minutes walk from the bathroom and the barby. While some rinsed off, others cracked cold beers and started cooking. The steaks that we did not believe were so cheap were so cheap because they were similar to lamb fat and bone. I opted for the hotdog. More beers and worthwhile conversations were followed by shots of tequila and a midnight star gazing session on the beach.

            The following morning I was the first up. It was about 630am and I was still lagging behind on sleep from the previous couple of days, so I set the coffee before I could even process whether I had to pee or not. I did, but it could wait.

            I started making eggs, but to no avail on the barby that we cooked the hotdogs on the night before. It was not working and raw egg not only tends to bring quite a few flies around, but it also can go bad in a matter of minutes, probably even seconds. I ran back to the Land Cruiser and climbed on the roof to get the gas stove that I should have used in the first place.

            Instant success and more instant coffee were in the near future. While I cooked, Rory took out the trash; the others backed up all the bags and deconstructed tents. The eggs were all cooked up and there was one plate for Rory.

            “Here,” I approached

            “Oh, wow, thanks,” said Rory prior to immediately stuffing his face. “Wow, yeah what’s in here?”

            “Eggs,” I replied, “cooked eggs, fried eggs, not so fried eggs, burn eggs, and more than likely some remnants of the previous night’s meal.”

            He chuckled and we finished backing before being threatened by someone from the Russian area. Apparently some midnight beach goers had left some bottled casualties at the beach that needed disposing of and of course it was the loud, stupid, American’s that DON’T even own bottled beer.

            We were underway, cruising south down the white sand beaches of Fraser Island UNTIL: the (at the time) worst thing happened: a bad gear switch on the manual left us feeling an uncomfortable click every 5 seconds. Shit. The whip was drivable, but not in the least bit safe. We pulled over and flagged down the quickest driver. They were older, Australian, and more than happy to help. My friend who was driving got in the backseat of their car and headed back North to the camp ground.

            We didn’t let this hinder our fun in the least bit. We continued the morning with impressive handstands, yahoo games, and I had no better time to learn a new language: semaphore. It is the language used on Bethany beach where my friend lifeguards in the summer. I am no where near able to read over a kindergarten level, but I can sign it on a third grade level.

            The driver returned and a mechanic was on the way. After some extensive under the hood and body checking we were told to drive south until we reached the camp ground, where we would setup and then take the cruiser to the ferry to get a replacement. It wasn’t long before the mechanic that was following us flagged us over and told us that it was too bad and that we would have to be towed. We pulled over and unloaded everything from our vehicle. A tow truck arrived and took the driver along with his girlfriend back to the ferry where they would be met with a new car. The mechanic said that they would return around 530pm. It was currently about 11 and we were told to not drive past 3 due to the higher tides and the dropping sun.

            After some sammys and a general direction from the mechanic, we walked south to Eli Creek. We saw our first dingo. It looked like an under-fed dog. We retreated to the location of our things. I grabbed a beer and my book and walked to the beach. In between sips, I read. I made some progress, but more with the drink in my hand.

More handstands, semaphore talk, threatening dingos around our food, more beers, joined the most extensive game of “Would You Rather…” that I have played made for a great afternoon. As the sun fell we made up “what ifs” for our situation. We also made a cumulative decision that a shot of tequila was necessary with the arrival of our other comrades.

The flies had now basically covered every square inch of our things and the thought of packing everything back up into a new cruiser was taking on a paranoiac feel. We were rewarded for our patience on the beach with an 11 seater as opposed to the 8 that we had previously. After a near death experience with the flies while packing our car, we were on the road, or sand. It was dark and the tide was high, but we charged. Everyone besides the driver was cracking beers only to drink out of fear of running head on into rocks or flipping our way through a major washout. We lived though. We had approximately reached the intended camp site when we decided that this was our spot. We unpacked again. While a few of us started dinner the others setup tents. Setting up tents in the pitch black after an afternoon of drinking is tough stuff, but we managed.

Dinner was a fine meal of chilli dogs on white bread and beers for drink. It topped the lamb that we suffered through the former night for sure. Some flashlights were passing by and after a drunken holler we realised that it was the rest of the group. They invited us down to their camp. After a few shots of tequila and we grabbed some roadies, we headed down the beach, star gazing the entire way. I was mad that my camera could not capture the galaxy that I was witnessing above. Then I thought to myself that just because you can not record the remarkable view above in pictures, some things you just have to harness in your mind and keep them for yourself. I had taken an entire album worth.

We met up with the other group explaining to them our situation of changing cars. There had been rumours that we were switching from 7^th gear to 1^st going 170km/hr. We laughed on the inside and let the naïve believe what they wanted. We had intentions of waking up at 445am and checking out Lake McKenzie since we had missed it so far. We were successful. I awoke and brewed some coffee. In between sips and packing up, I observed the sun grow from the dark sea to the east.

The lake was truly amazing: some of the clearest blue water that I had ever seen lightly slapping against some snow white sand. We were short on time however, so after a 45 minute dip, we were headed to Kingfisher Bay for our ferry.

We snagged Scarlet, ate Subway, I grabbed an energy drink, and hit the road for the 4 hour return to school. The ride back was much nicer. Although there was a little rain, driving home after a great weekend trip left me feeling relaxed and much less anxious than the drive to the destination. 

February 16th- 19th: Quick Post

February 16^th- 19^th

            The first day of week 5? Already? There is no confusion here about when projects are due, or tests need to be taken because they go strictly by a number-week basis. The first week of school is week 1, and the fifth week of school is week 5, ect. “Your project is due Friday week 8,” places things in a better perspective than “Friday, March 14^th.” No one knows off the top of their head when the hell the 14^th is. Today being the day that it is though, I had my first in class test, or quiz, or exam. I’m really not sure what the hell to call it. It was for biology and it’s worth 7.5% of my total grade for the semester, but it was only 20 questions and we were only given 25 minutes to answer it. I think I did ok though, enough to attain the 50 required average, which is the only thing that really matters. I really didn’t study too much; I just sort of looked over some PowerPoint slides. The first test in a biology class at JMU would have required much more preparation. The class seems very interesting; everything that the professor is talking about is going on inside your body right then and there. I just do not have that much time to dedicate to studying. I have too many other things going on: surfing every morning, enjoying a nice cup of coffee, travelling on the weekends, reading Anthony Bourdain, attempting to write in a style similar to his on this blog. As you can see lots of these types of things deters me from studying.

            I’m about to take off to the largest sand island in the world in about 20 minutes: Fraser Island.

I also finally just submitted my application for the best job in the world: Hamilton Island Keeper. With 4,000 applicants a day I’d say my chances are slim to none. I know that I would do a great job though. It’s hard to sum yourself up in a little video clip. Attempting to be witty, clever, get the point across, and cater to what you think they might like. I kept it simple and cheesy. I’m sure that some people are going ridiculously out of their way to come up with some insane way to be remembered by that will quickly surpass my 31 second clip. At least I can say that I did it… I really just cannot stop thinking about the money though. $150,000 AUD = $100,000 US. That would be too wild. I would just invest the bulk of it. Well I guess most all of it because $100,000 couldn’t get you too far. Without a steady income, it would not be enough to comfortably buy any house that I would want to live in.

            I have decided today that I want to spend a lot of weekends travelling this summer; continue the lifestyle I live here. I really have not seen much of the U.S. at all, and it has always just been waiting for me to check out. 

Rainy Days and Plane Tickets: February 9th - 15th

February 9th- 15th

            Monday morning I wake up a few minutes before my alarm. I have not received the usual call from Rory telling me that he will ‘be there in 5.’ About 10 minutes goes by and there is still no call. I feel somewhat relieved and hop back into bed when he calls… we decide that sleeping is a better option that surfing this morning. And it was. I awoke a couple hours later feeling more tired than earlier this morning proving that the extra sleep I had was very useful. My chronic breakfast stares at me and I dig in. It is actually mediocre at best, but I have taken affection to it. I start by cleaning out the remains of the prior days breakfast from the bowl, which I stole. I add in some Weet-Bix, which is like a dry cereal grain rectangle. If I have any fruit, fresh or not, I add it. I finalise the meal by pouring some milk on top. However, I have just only recently come to realise that a milk/juice concoction makes the meal exponentially tastier. 

            It is Wednesday evening and I cannot believe that in 2 classes and about 20 hours it will be the weekend again. Although extremely apprehensive I did in fact hang a calendar on my wall in my room. I’m beginning to regret it. Everyday I cross out the previous. Today I had to make up for some that I missed; all in all about 8 days went before my eyes. Although my time here is taking me further away from the world I left behind it is ironically bringing me closer to it at the same time. I am excited for this summer back home at the beach, but not in the least bit to forgo time that I could spend travelling.

            I just finished a lot of things: my cup of coffee, counting my money in my wallet, and figuring out what happened last night. I feel accomplished to say the least. I was re-reading some of my old blogs and I really need to start proof reading. I don’t do it out of pure lazines, but I realize that I need to get concise and sharpen up my thoughts.

[laziness missing an ‘s’ is on purpose, proving the sharpening of my thoughts]

            I think that we are travelling today, but I have no real idea. We might go to Byron Bay, we might not. We have no hostels booked, hell I haven’t even looked any up online, let alone the town itself. 

            The weather here has been pretty bad for the past couple of days: rain and lots of it. I don’t think that they are really in a drought.

            It’s Happy Hour on Virgin Blue, and I am in desperate need of some plane tickets…

 I am officially going to Sydney for Mardi Gras. It shall be a grand event. I have no clue where I’m staying / any other relevant information about Sydney besides the Opera House.

The weather has deterred us from going to Byron for the weekend, but we do take a Saturday afternoon drive to Nimbin. The drive there is nice. Initially getting out of the car we had no idea on the scene that we were about to become apart of. The drizzling rain and overcast skies multiplied the already inherent eeriness. We browsed around some shops, all seeming to be interchangeable besides their addresses. Every store is overgrown with pot-leave-covered tourist paraphernalia: post cards, cosies, and shirts. 

            After walking through a museum along the 100 yard block, not knowing what to do next, half of us decided on eating. I’m not quite sure how the restaurant was functional. The order taker and waitresses were distraught by their obvious high. They were confused and couldn’t get anything right. Eventually we got our food, but the amount of confusion that went along with it was only par for the course in a town that inhales more THC than oxygen.

            However, it doesn't stop there. We finished up and headed out into the wild streets. There were two types of people walking around this paranoid dystopia: the freakshows that live here, and the travellers that want to get a glimpse of them. It was an interesting time, to say the least. 

            I am eating a peanut butter sandwich as I write instead of continuing studying for my biology quiz tomorrow. It was an early rise this morning, but it took a little longer than usual to get underway. We drove north to the spit with the intention of surfing Straddie Island, but the huge waves breaking out on the outer sandbars forced us to do otherwise. We went down to Burleigh were the waves were huge, and people were getting ridiculous barrels. I took the spill over the falls of my life, and balanced that out with a stand-up barrel 10 minutes later.

            A nap was necessary after the early morning session and preceding the events from the night before. I awoke in astonishment that the weekend had left once again. I studied a little, then had an evening surf at Snapper. I end Sunday-funday by catching up on writing, and watching letters that make up biology terms float around on a page.

Midweek Special

February 11^th

Dear JMU and All Friends, who reside there,

            I have been neglecting you lately, yet thinking about you more and more. I hope that the cold winter has not been too harsh. I hear that school has been cancelled or delayed quite a few times, so that is always good news.

            Soon spring will blow in and the quad will be illuminated with Frisbee throwing, puppies that girls cannot take care of, kids on towels skipping class, and the mighty sundresses that we all know and love. Not far after that it will be SUMMER.

            For those of you who may be graduating, I hope that you all are having as much fun as possible in your last semester at college / fantasy land. I expect some visits next year. We have had a good run and I’ll never forget that memories that I actually remember with you all.

            You all know as well as I do that James Madison University is a playground for college kids; a ridiculously amazing time to say the least. What you all don’t know that I have been privileged enough to come to find out is how renowned we really are. When I first started my 48 hour journey here I was meeting a lot of kids from the Northeast. The moment I said that I went to JMU it was a shocker. Most all of the kids that had heard about JMU had been there on a visit and had a wild weekend to share with me. There was a general theme of how nice everyone was, the food was good, the disbelief that beer really was free, that you were invited to every party just as much as anyone else (for the most part), and that there were girls and lots of them.

            I guess that having gone to school there for 3 years I became numb to it. Not that I took going there for granted, but that I didn’t realize how envious others were of the place that I call my school.

Hope all is well in the Burg,

LB

Slurpee Cups and Cover Songs: February 1st - 8th

February 1^st- 8^th

            After the morning surf session, we had big plans for the first day of February (I only knew from just consulting a calendar). We were headed to Springbrook National Park. Google Directions listed the park about 1 hour away, and from the look of the map it was south west of our current location in Varsity Lakes. We packed the car full, filled up, and headed out. My directions were pretty basic, but I had seek advice from the map and I knew (or so I thought) the general area that the park was located.

Unknowingly, we entered the highway going south, when we needed to go north even though the park is southwest. We drove and drove taking the surroundings of the countryside into account much more than the directions that I had copied down. We had been driving for a while now and still no sign of the sign that we were looking for. The crew also discussed that there had been no signs for the park and we were on the biggest highway on the east coast of Australia. I decided to pull over and ask. That was a separate mission in and of itself. The thing about Australia signs is that they are really about 2 or 3 exits before the listed exit, but they don’t generally tell you that. After a laugh and slight jaw drop by the rental office employee, that we decided to ask directions from, they pointed us back to our origin.

            After getting back on the highway and passing our former trail… Of course the exit is one after where we started… IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION. I was the driver and the planner of this little day trip and thus I felt / was completely responsible for our mishaps. But if anyone was disappointed about the difficulties they kept it to themselves.

We were driving into the mountains now and with each kilometre we were getting further away from traffic lights, shopping outlets, eateries, and petrol stations. Everyone was now completely intrigued. I think I was the only one saying how intrigued I really was, while the rest of the group just took it all in. Vast mountain ranges, single lane bridges, and little to no guard rails had everyone on their toes while I drove with extreme caution. I liked being in control and now everyone seemed to forget about the 3 hour trip that it took to get to a location that was only 1 away. It was worth it.

We did some walking and then drove to the natural bridge/waterfall/cave of bats. It was really quite a sight, much different than the natural bridge that I had seen in Virginia on my alcohol soaked trip back from the first time I visited Tech.

            I have been in Australia for a MONTH today, Thursday. I cannot believe it. I am travelling this weekend and I had to get one of my old bags out… it had about $40 US… the green pieces of paper looked foreign to me, so I guess I have been here for a while now. Time is flying by, and I need to soak it up. I know that soon enough I will be enjoying my last Victoria Bitter, and I will be calling it a night… not so long after that I will be standing in the Norfolk, Virginia airport: cultured, changed, tan, half sober, and ready to hang with all my friends that I left behind back in the cold winter January days.

            The weekend trip to Noosa was a great success. Not only did we arrive to the intended destination without getting (very) lost, we did the majority of the drive North in the dark. Scarlet (is the name of the car, I don’t believe I mentioned that yet) was running well and surprisingly did not suck down too much gas.

            Our hostel for the weekend is the Koala Backpackers Resort. It was getting pretty late already and the main desk had closed down, so we checked in and got our room keys at the bar. Although this is pretty funny in and of itself, the bartender doesn’t have a real calculator so she resorts to her phone in between pouring drinks and taking our money.

After dropping off our bags in the room, the most important thing was to immediately get the wine on ice. We ran up to the 7-11 and got a bag. The trashcan quickly became a makeshift cooler, and as the wine cooled off from its hot, almost nondrinkable state, I took a quick shower.

[I just realized that my internet is down, hence this blog will get my undivided attention]            

After throwing on some clothes and filling up some stolen 7-11 Slurpee cups, we play a few games and converse about our appreciation of having our 7 person room to ourselves. We headed out to the hostel’s bar, and from there we couldn’t find the intended next stop so we settled for having drunk talks about life on the beach instead.

            I following morning, I awoke Rory in excitement. A bit tired, I assume, he doesn’t show me the same enthusiasm, but gets up wilfully and we search for the beach. As fate would have it, we go the wrong way, initially forgetting the way that our drunken feet took us the night before. We finally got on the right track and found ourselves walking along a wood lined deck path curving in and out of the side of the headland through vast vegetation and sounds of morning bird chirps. We see surfers out, and we decide to return to the house, get the rest of our crew, put some food in our guts, and do nothing else but spend the entire day at the beach.

            The surf is great at Tea Tree Bay… not knowing the proper paddle out or rock jump we follow some guys ahead of us that appear to have been here a few times before. We are taken to a 10 foot rock jump into a small cut out of the rock. After the jump you paddle your ass off to make sure that you do not become a victim to the unforgiving wall of barnacles, crevasses, and caves behind you. In between surf sessions I read some of Bourdain, listened to some tunes, and ate the granola bars that I brought and grown to love. I would soon have the longest wave that I have ever ridden in my entire life.

            The next couple nights we have are of extreme opposites and we had some new found companions that tagged along. Vincent, who spoke little to no English, was from France and Romain from Belgium, would be his translator and our other new roommate. The two were funny and loved exchanging drinking card games and talking about our travels. The first night we went to the strobe light flashing-dizziness inducing likes of The Rock… enough said. In an attempt to forcefully throw myself out of my comfort zone, and one to force an immediate humorous reaction; I participated in a European version of hair gelling. The second night, however; we had made an early conscious decision that we were going to a bar and that we were going to hear live music. We pregamed again with none other than cheap boxed wine, and then walked across the street to the Irish Pub. It was one of the most fun nights since I have been here: A tight knit crew, cold beer by the pints, and music; live, American cover song music.

We were the band’s favourite fans. We sung every song with as much excitement as them, and probably even louder. The girls danced with a drunk that couldn’t see and I laughed, and snapped pictures to document the night correctly.

The beach and surf session on Sunday seemed short. The feeling of an ending weekend is something that no one wants to come to terms, with just like the ice cream that we indulged in before we left. But on the car ride home we decided that we were never going to feel like we were really going to school here. Class is just something you go to for a few hours, a few days a week, and that is it.

Coffee and Wine: January 26th- 31st

January 26^th- 31^st 

            Today is Australia Day. Given that I had class and it was a Monday, it was nothing special. Everything closed down early. All the day drinking had caught up to the bars and those that hit them early. But I was ready to party. After a full load of classes all day, and “taking the night off” the night before I was ready. At least the local drive through liquor was open, thus fulfilling my natural college-aged craving of whatever’s cheap. I used to say that it all takes you to the same place... and in some respects it does, but in most that line is something that I’ll let dwell in the past. Trying to approximate how much wine, red or white, is justifiable for a pregame is a hard measure. There are lots of things to take into account: what the color is, what the alcohol content is, what size glass you’re drinking from, how fast you are drinking it, and what time you’re heading out on the town. A couple of weeks ago I might as well of been an 8^th grader, or freshman in high school. I had had wine before on the occasional Sunday or Tuesday with Cramer while we sat around and watch a couple TV shows, but using wine as the sole entity of a pregame is a world that I was not yet prepared for.

            After 3 weeks, I have slightly heightened my knowledge on wine binge drinking... the keys to my success are remember: it’s not beer so drink slow, and also bring a toothbrush to the pregame if you’re drinking red.

            This knowledge, coupled with my more consistent and good eating habits, and my afternoon runs and workouts have helped my body feel somewhat healthy again. I have emerged on the other side of the trough that I fell unknowingly into during my first few weeks here.

            I had my first coffee today and ironically it was the latest day that I have slept in since I have started this travel. I felt tired though, and we had a 5 minute break between a movie screening. After the first sip of the Medium Dark cup I was instantly hooked like a fish and stunned as to why I have not indulged in my former vice sooner... the cup was fantastic, and although I forgot to ask for it to be iced, which in the 90 degree heat is crucial, it was still amazing. The hook was pulling me closer and closer to the residual effects of heightened awareness, dissolving sense of tiredness, and constant interest. Each grew with another sip. I had forgotten of how great I felt every morning this past semester heading to class after my two cups. While I’m going to attempt to limit myself with one cup a morning, I cannot make any promises once I get the lid off of my canned, cheap, instant coffee that is staring at me right now.

            Today is Friday and it is exactly what it is suppose to be. The beginning of the weekend... I roll over when my alarm goes off at 4:55am. I shut it off. As my squinted eyes open, a moment of drunken questioning goes through my head. Even if you have not been that drunk the night before, call it an early night, or just wake up at 4:55am there is always a flash of a purgatory-like state where the dreaming stage ends and reality becomes more prevalent. This can be mind-blowingly confusing if you have had a very realistic dream, or you have been slammed the night before.

            I contemplate as to whether I should call my friend or fall back asleep... I rest for 5 minutes and set the coffee. I gather my things, check the internet, and head out the door with surfboard and proper beach essentials. We are surfing South Stradbroke Island today. This involves an extremely dangerous rock jump into a shark invested inlet, and an even more dangerous climb back up barnacle and/or slime coated boulders all while watching out for boats and waves rolling in. The island really is neat though. It reminds me of Hatteras without houses. This is the first scene of somewhat isolation since arriving in this tourist infected city. I love the nightlife here, but trying to surf with a million people really isn’t my thing. I’m really not even sure why it is called “Surfer’s Paradise.” It is like the Virginia Beach Oceanfront on steroids: beach souvenir shops, Subways, 7-11s, surf shops, ice cream parlors, and my favorite which Virginia Beach lacks: heaps of good Kebob storefronts.

            After the surf I hit the hay around 12 for a cat nap. We head to the beach again... the swell is bigger, the other surfers better, and the rock jump is (at another beach) a bit hairier than the former time I surfed it. I regroup eat dinner and realize that I am in dire need for some post-it notes, postcards, and batteries.

            I head to Preston’s and we begin pregaming before hailing a cab down to Kirra. I wake up to an empty night (forget everything I said about learning how to drink wine), set the coffee, and prepare for a run... something to make me feel productive, like there is no wasted time.