back in the saddle to Oamaru (April 1, 2007)

a fantastic way to end my time in Australia - Melbourne (the city of things to do) had overlapping on the same weekend - the greek festival, the osaka sister-city festival, the fina swimming championships festival, the food and wine festival. it was a fine way to say goodbye to australia - a country i thought would only be a quick bounce pad to new zealand.

starting to cycle again was tough to really get motivated for - especially with the fast approaching winter and my allergy to the rain. but new zealand aside from the unsettled weather is a fantastic place to ride. hostels seem convienently spaced often less than a hundred kilometers apart and there are plenty of low cost camp grounds around.

two random weeks in tasmania without my bike (March 20, 2007)

flew into tasmania with no definite plans, then decided to post a note looking for someone to go around the island with. two hours later and a few sms's with laura and I was off helping them pick up a couple of station wagons from the rental company. our party consisted of two french, two germans, two italian girls, and me - the only one speaking his native tongue. nine days later we come back with two partially broken frenchmen, two overdue cars, and a lot of fond memories. Some highlights and lo-lights:

• Mael falling into the bicheno blowhole, getting horribly cut up on the barnacles, (one heck of a painful shower afterwards) and a lovely nurse at St. Helens who put him back together at no cost.
• beautiful hiking around Mt. Cradle and Lake St. Clair - so foggy, you could barely see in front of you somedays.
• meeting a random at a bar who invited us to stay with him - turns out he was slightly violently schizophrenic, and left at 4 am taking victor to the hospital with a thouroughly swollen lip.
• a car that guzzled gasoline at what must have worked out to 20 liters per 100 kms.
• fantastic camping, campfires and people.

after four months in melbourne it'll be time to move on from saturday. it's strange to start making plans for the future again. it's a little scary moving on again after almost settling into routine again. even if it wasn't the most interesting of routines at times. (how often can one visit the library in a day?) i'm still waiting on a new passport before i can do anything about my trip to new zealand. until then, i'm still a bit unsure as to what to do with myself. head back to sydney, pop over to perth, fly to tasmania, or just sit and wait.

the world i know (February 11, 2007)

an australian christmas, a new year's eve in federation square, a change of job from the burbs of burwood to the 16th floor of a telstra office. But it all feels the same sometimes... one day blurs into the next. I'll be the first to admit that i haven't particularly put in much of an effort to be out and about in melbourne. nine hour days in front of a computer, evenings in front of the tv. it's time for a change.

and so tomorrow i will give my one weeks notice. my life at work is little more than a carbon copy of a day in the life of george jetson (well without the sass talking robo-maid). remember? that episode when elroy has to show his class what his father does for a living? and it turns out that george merely sits around pressing this bright red button all day - he's somehow a part of the process that pops out spacely's sprockets. still, at least george got a chance to interact with the boss of the company - to see from the top of the mountain. at telstra, one would strain their neck to see the top of the heirarchy.

Christmas and New Years in Melbourne (December 30, 2006)

Expecting to sweat it out with a blisteringly hot christmas - i suppose i was a little surprised when it was one of the coldest christmas days on record in melbourne at just a little over 16 degrees...

Life in Melbourne - or - How money makes the world go round (November 25, 2006)

Call center work, or working for a big impersonal multinational corporation in general is good for the wallet but bad for the soul. Day after day we get repeated phone calls from irrate customers regarding delayed inventory orders, misinformation from the sales or marketing department, customers whose queries get lost in the neverending maze of the wrong transfers, poorly trained or inadequate staff, or unbending company policy. For the most part, all we can do is sympathize with the customer while we pass them on to other departments or tell them they're SOL and hope for the best. A good sense of humour and leaving your work at work is the best way to keep sane - it wears you down through the week until Friday - when everything is bearable and the bad feelings and cursings from customers just side off like eggs on teflon - or some better more appropriate metaphor.

Still, i am counting my blessings. i have a well paying job, and from tomorrow, an studio apartment in the city. i've stayed with two different friends, one dank hostel, one aunt and uncle, and one friend of a friend over the past month. it's been a good way to see different parts of the city and meet different people. God. life is good.

Job down, flat to go (October 29, 2006)

Coming into Melbourne, I was pretty unsure of what my job prospects were. Melbourne is littered with job postings outside cafes and restaurants looking for experienced waiters or counterhands. Unfortunately, I haven't had much experience in either. So, after twenty resumes and two call backs, a quickly put together business formal outfit (slacks $24, shirt and tie set $16, and zipper-shoes $15), and an interview, I was back to customer service call center work. yaay.

Melbourne and end of the line for the moment (October 22, 2006)

Passing through the border between South Australia and Victoria was so fun that I decided to do it twice. Once with a flat tyre, a broken spoke, non-stop rolling hills, and the second time with a trued back wheel and a tailwind. Looking back, I suppose the loss of fifty kilometeres hitching back to Mt. Gambier was a blessing because I didn't have to camp out in the storm that occurred later that night. And it was nice to know that I managed to come out of my first bike disaster not too worse for wear. And the day that followed was my biggest day ever - almost 190 kilometers from Mt. Gambier to Warnabool (sp?)

The great ocean road was certainly an amazing road. Cliffs and jagged rock formations carved by years of pounding waves and gusting winds have certainly made for some fantastic, almost alien landscapes. Early in the morning, before the caravaners get up, it was possible to have long sections of the road to yourself, riding in the middle, feeling the cool wind blow behind or across the bicycle. It was a shame for it to be over, but I'm certainly looking forward to similar rides along the New Zealand coast.

And now in Melbourne, visiting my friend from Japan who I hadn't seen for a couple of years - it's time to recharge the batteries and settle into something slightly more routine. First steps - Job and flat.

Mt. Gambier (October 17, 2006)

Riding on the Ghan, a seventeen hour train ride from Alice to Adelaide, I was looking forward to start riding again and get away from the stifling dry heat of the Australian red center. Travelling on trains is perhaps more romantic in theory than in practice - at least when you're travel on the backpacker day/night seats. Bodies strewn across the lounge, in the aisles and across the seats, with many a garish florencent sleeping bag in the way.

Once in adelaide, it was a third attempt at a warmshowers.org homestay - this time camped out Grace and Sue's house - one of the more eccentric, if not loveable couples, that i've met. Along the way, I meet Ben, a former bike courier industrial designer who takes me around the adelaide wine country and helps me fix a nasty broken spoke. A lot of rolling hills and about one hundred kilometers of straight gusty headwinds and five days later, I find myself in Mt. Gambier with the final stretch run to Melbourne - only 5 or 6 days away. The homestretch.

Alice Springs (October 7, 2006)

It was great to recharge the batteries in Urapunga for a couple of weeks again. I'd forgotten true joy of vegging out in front of a television watching DVD after DVD and living on instant noodles. Still I was spending an inordinate time inside the home - partially too afraid to go out, and too lazy to do anything even if i did go out.

After spending a beautiful day at the Katherine Gorge and another at the Mataranka thermal pools - it was time to begin my long journey down to Alice Springs, and perhaps to Adelaide. After a couple of tough days, the mental and physical toughness of the ride broke me down. I'm not sure if i was ever so disappointed in myself for not finishing something - but the long afternoons were driving me mental. It's not only the solitude of the trip but the nasty feeling of pointlessness that sometimes creeps and lingers in your head. It haunts you and won't let you escape, and that's all you can focus on for hours in the blistering sun. Cycling from Darwin to Alice or Adelaide is a hell of an accomplishment for anyone - but the true reality of cycling one hundred kilometers a day against a headwind and in thirty plus degree temperatures is crippling.

I guess I'm at a bit of a low point in my cycle trip. The loneliness is a bit unbearable at times, and I am truly looking forward to finding a job in Melbourne and having some kind of routine again.

Middle of Nowhere, Urapunga NT (September 19, 2006)

The butterfly farm was a hard place to leave. A kitchen full of food, some friendly faces, and free beer (!). A WWOOFers dream. Our main job was to gather rocks from a property ten kilometers away and help finish up the rock garden. I don't think I'll stop dreaming of rocks for weeks to come. I've this sneaking suspicion that Chris finds WWOOFers to perpetually move and stack rocks around the butterfly farm.

The journey out towards Katherine was hot and gave me a taste of what it would be like to ride into the outback. I learned to start getting up at 4:30 in the morning and start riding by five to avoid the midday sun. Then find a shady bench to sleep on until around four or five in the evening, when I'd get pedal in another few kilometers until the evening rolled around. It was warm and dry enough that I never needed to set up the tent and could just doss down on a tarp and my sleeping bag liner. On the trip to Katherine, I've finally learned the importance of bike shorts to prevent "unconfortable chaffing"

Met my friend in Katherine - the first familiar face I had seen in ages, who found me dozing off on a bench in front of Woolworths. Then did a quick swim at Mataranka Thermal springs and had a last beer before entering the dry community of Urapunga.

Urapunga is a small aboriginal community of fifty or sixty people located near Roper's bar (about two hundred kilometers from Mataranka). My friend Meghan works as a teacher in a two teacher primary school. Having just arrived I don't think I can really say much about the community. I've met plenty of shiny happy kids out and about, but I've been told it's unsafe to walk around past dark in the community, and the big red panic button located in Meghan's house is a little unsettling - particularly in a community of only sixty people. Still, I'm looking forward my stay here and learning more about another side of Australia.

The beautiful Batchelor Butterfly Farm, NT (September 8, 2006)

The last 400 or so nautical miles were at times excrutingly slow. After a couple of hours travelling at one to two knots and hour during blistering days, I was praying that John would finally flip on the motor or the heavens would open and the winds would blow. And a little of both happened. So after spending one and a half months on a sailing trip i naively assumed would only have taken a couple of weeks, Jim, John and I finally pulled into the port of Darwin and within the day, my bags were packed, my bike assembled then mounted and I was off to check into the first backpackers I saw.

Darwin was full of backpackers when I arrived - including Sabrina and Carly, two English girls who had spent a month and a bit at the homestead in Brisbane, and who were the most friendly welcoming faces I had seen in far too long.

After spending a couple of days informing friends, that i was not lost or run over by a road train, i made my way down to Batchelor for my third go at WWOOFing - this time at the highly recommended Batchelor butterfly farm - a perfect, or seemingly so, 100 kilometers from Darwin. In fact, not doing any real exercise over the past month and a half, coupled with thirty degree highs in the noon day sun and a "what's the opposite of refreshing?" headwind, meant i had to break for about 3 hours for the late afternoon sun to come. Pulling into Batchelor I was warmly welcomed by Chris, and quickly given a shower and a great dinner.

The butterfly farm (www.butterflyfarm.net) itself is a georgeous place - an oasis in the desert as someone once called it. There are 3 other german wwoofers as well as 2 long term aussie wwoofers here.

Gove: Up the coast and across the gulf on a hope and a prayer (August 31, 2006)

Leaving a place you've settled is never easy - especially when you'll find yourself alone and in a tent off the side of the road the next day. After leaving Brisbane, the cycling northbound was rather straightforward and uneventful (dare I say it, dull?). I managed to get some big kilometers up the coast - commulating with my biggest day of 150 kilometers into Sarina (just south of Mackay). I met a couple of other cycling tourers including a 50 year old lady who was planning to go across to the red center from rockhampton. These people astound me to no end.

Spending a couple of days with Jim in Mackay (a member of the Mackay cycling club and a top guy) I decided on a whim to check out the local marina and inquire about sailing ships en route to darwin. Lo and behold if the hands of fate were pulling on some invisible strings, the first person i met was headed up there and just happened to be in need of new crew. Little did I know what was in store for me over the next month and a bit.

To say that the trip had its ups and downs would be a great understatement. I was well unprepared for the mountains and valleys I felt over the month. From sheer exhilaration of sailing on a perfect day or night, to the overwhelming frustration of being stuck on a solitary sandbank waiting for parts, or tides, or repairs that I could have no control over. Coupled with the clashes of the skipper and the first mate, meant that I would simply make uncommital grunts and unns.. during the heated arguments. Being trapped within the confines of a 40 foot catamaran on a 30 degree humid day did nothing for one's mental health. "hell is other people." - yes, sometimes it is.

Highlights and lowlights of the last month:

• Riding around night time Mackay with Jim.
• Getting caught trying to get free laundry using the q-tip trick at a pub hostel in Rockhampton. (if you're going to do it, make sure no one is looking!)
• Sailing in the middle of the night over perfect conditions, guided by the stars (and a GPS) while shooting stars cast lines over the blackness of the sky.
• Getting stranded at Lizard island for a week, waiting for parts, and hiking up Cook's lookout. It's amazing what these explorers managed to accomplish with what they didn't have.
• Getting caught up on pearl luggers ropes in Escape bay when things were starting to finally look up. John's "this could be a multi-million dollar lawsuit" and panicking to escape seems funny now, but sure wasn't at the time. Eventually we freed ourselves, but didn't escape unscathed as the rope bent out one of the propellor shafts leaving us with one proppellor - somethings that we had tried to avoid, and was the cause of so many of our delays, the entire way up.

Still in... Brisbane (July 7, 2006)

As with all good things, everything must come to an end eventually, and so I've given notice that I'll be leaving at the end of next week. After being so alone for the first part of my trip, I've enjoyed the company of other people immensely. I've met so many great people here and it's hard to say goodbye. Conversations 'til dark over a fine cup of red or white goon.

But it is time to move on. There are new places to go, new people to meet, new things to do, and as happy as I am here, there were days when I felt trapped because I couldn't come and go as I pleased.

Backpackers are a strange breed. Fun and work seem to be the name of the game for working holiday visa makers. Time, responsibility and everything seems to disappear or becme irrelevant when traveling. Low paying, hard and long hours, and back breaking harvesting jobs - stuff people would not readily choose to do back home become quality jobs here. Backpacking is freedom. Freedom from the responsibilities and expections of who you are back home. From everything that weighs someone down. Or maybe that's just me. It's about getting away from that drab ordinariness - the routine, opening yourself up to the infinite possibilities, destiny, and those bizarre coincidences that just sometimes happen,(kismet perhaps?), that make life special, spontanious, and infused it with meaning. Stuff that I can't find at home.

Brisbane to Brisbane (June 25, 2006)

Money makes the world go round unfortunately, so it was time for me to look for a job. After ruling out fruit picking because I'm lazy and don't like hard labour, I found myself working reception at Brisbane's Homestead Hostel. Except for the long hours, the occassionally difficult and sometimes offensive manager, and meager hourly pay, this was frankly the ideal backpacker job. The hostel itself is mostly for long term backpackers looking for a place to stay while doing the occassional temping or waiter/waitressing work. So I find myself getting beyond the three most common backpacker introduction questions.

Brisbane is great city for cycling. There are bike paths all around the main river that winds throgh the city. The city is in perennial drought which is a drag for residents but a big bonus for people who get around on bike. It's been dubbed Bris-vegas by other Australians, but there seems to be something to do almost every weekend and more often than not, it's free. There are plenty of great and varied suburbs in town and even some outdoor climbing cliffs along the riverbank.

Highlights from the second month and Brisbane:

• Getting the job and managing not to get fired after the first week. I managed to overbook the hostel on my first day, kick the wrong person out of his room on the second day, charging the wrong amounts to three people, and not having a balanced register at the end of the day (ever). For this, I can thank Riobeard and Robbert's sense of humour for not getting to bent out of shape for confusing their names, the manager for getting pissed, but understanding that we were both new to the game, and whatever god is out there.
• Checking out moonfest down on the beaches of Shorncliffe. Thirty to forty fire twirlers all showing their stuff on the beach on the night of a full moon. Plenty of spinning fun with Yakov and learning a couple new tricks was great fun.
• Meeting all the great people at the hostel, having great conversations about life and nothing, and learning that life's possibilities are truly limitless.

Sydney to Brisbane (May 30, 2006)

After four months and a bit, sadly finding myself far too often on the couch and watching hours and hours of syndicated Seinfeld and Simpsons, I booked my first one-way ticket ever. No deadlines, no plan, no flight to catch home.

Sydney is a hustle and bustle city that seems to be a lot less bike friendly than you'd assume. But the saving grace is that you can take your bike onto the city trains. After two weeks of rest, I hopped on train with a fully loaded and sometimes wobbly bike, unsure of whether I'd ever be able to get out of first gear. The skies were clear and the southeast coast was having one of their driest autumns in years.

Riding on the east coast of Australia isn't the most spectacular route, especially if you find yourself on the Pacific Coast Highway like I do 90 percent of the time. Aside from the wide shoulders which occassionally disappear from time to time, the trucks barrelling down the road and the occassional glimpses of the ocean leave something to be desired.

Highlights from the first month riding on the road

• Hitching a ride with a guy who pulled off to the side of the road to offer me a lift to Coffs Harbour saving me 70 kilometers of really rolling riding. He drove at breakneck pace slowing up only for the radar camera signs. After trying to start a conversation with him, I realize that he would look directly at me instead of the road when talking, I decided to stop talking to him and quietly start praying to make it there alive.
• Running into backpacker shuttles at Coffs harbour and making some good friends at Plantation Hotel, and learning about working at hostels for free accomodation or money.
• Meeting Rob (www.cyclinghomefromsiberia.com) a friend of Al (www.roundtheworldbybike.com), at the end of a long day's ride. Camping out, talking about life, impromptu travel poetry readings, making pasta, tuna, and ketchup surprise, and hearing about his maddening adventures, how to make money doing what you love, and how it all started for Al's trip.
• WWOOFing on farms, going to a hippy full moon dance party, eating an absurd amount of avocadoes and surviving without meat for a mindblowing two and a half weeks.
• Riding along the beach from Brunswick Heads all the way down to Byron bay, with Tygaraph beach in between. Being a nude beach, I celebrated by riding up part of the way naked.
• Staying three days with an amazing family from warmshowers.org - a family that bike toured around new caledonia with a three and nine year old. they now run a busy cycle shop in brisbane specializing in touring cycles, folding cycles and gear. (www.epiccycles.com.au)