On the Road

The plans to rent a car with the French backpackers were unfortunately and unsurprisingly not put together by the day of departure. I waited as long as I could all the while remembering why I prefer traveling solo. After a few hours of patience and poor communication I looked online and bought myself a train ticket to Byron Bay, it left in 4 hours. The timetable looked daunting I boarded the train from Hornsby at 3:20 on Tuesday July 8, I was set to arrive at Byron Bay at 4:20am on July 9. The longest trip I had previously taken on ground oriented transportation was the bus ride to Sydney, 11hrs. Now I know I always say how big Australia is so here's a bit of scale for you a train & bus from Sydney to Byron Bay  takes 14 hours a car takes a bit under 10. Doesn't look that far does it? I packed the essentials I thought i’d need to entertain myself for as long as possible. The long hours are amazing for getting work done I found myself so bored I was catching up on things i’ve meant to do for the longest time. Trains are top notch for lazing back and letting everyone else do the work also its a whole lot easier on the ears than a plane and steadier than a bus.

I wrote for you in real time on the train a small common sense guide of how to maintain your sanity on a long Train journey

Hi, congratulations on your purchase of a train ticket destination, world! You’ve probably had some experience on a train before its a very common method of transportation but you may not have experience riding one for 10+ hours. Fear not, it is possible to avoid being taken off in a straight jacket if you take the proper steps and precautions when packing.  Depending on the hours of travel likely you wont have very much to look at so plan accordingly.

Like traveling on a plane you will probably bring a carry on and a suitcase, unlike a plane your bag gets put in an accessible place however in the event of a packed train getting up on a regular basis to remove things will certainly cause frustration amongst others.

The contents of your bag should contain easy to carry hobbies you genuinely love doing. For me this is writing I brought 2 notebooks and a diary along with me, I got a ton of writing and scribbling done in the first few hours including numerous ideas for future work. You can bring sketch pads if your an artist, sudoku or mind games if your more math and numbers oriented. Don't skimp on the entertainment mad libs yourself if you need too distraction is absolutely necessary for those first few hours especially. Next time i might bring ad libs, I like that idea.

Things to bring in volume.

Books
Paperback or electronic I'm so thankful for books, in fact finished two I was reading simultaneously. If you’re like me sleeping on buses, trains and planes is impossible therefore I always make sure I have a book to read, it mentally exhausts you to the point of passing out if you do it long enough.

Music
Almost everyone has some sort of iPod or phone with music apps so use it. I wouldn't count on it for long term entertainment though. I got sick of my playlist after about an hour and a half but found light music beneficial to sleeping and canceling out the noise of the train.

Snacks
Food on public transportation is pricey. I bought a beer for 6 bucks then found out it was mid strength with an alcohol content of 3%. Its always a good idea to pack some treats but do so with caution when a bag of chips or candy sits at your feet and you’ve got nothing to do the temptation factor is inescapable. I packed healthy snacks and couldn't be bothered to eat them due to the bio garbage that would be left in its wake, nothings worse than a banana peel in sight for more than a few minutes. Had I had some chips knowing myself they’d be gone in a hour making me feel both sick and disgusting for at least another. I’d rather keep these long hours as pleasant as possible in the stomach.

Toiletries
As any traveler knows there is nothing quite like travel grime. Sitting on a seat for an extended period of time can make you quite a bit like the swamp thing. It is necessary for that reason to have the proper toiletries for your sake and that of others around you. Personally I hate the way my face feels after not being washed for an extended period of time so I always have soap, deodorant and a toothbrush minimum my travel survival pack. You can add as you feel necessary but without those three things by the time I hobble off to my destination I feel less than human.

Pillow
Personally I never bring one but I always wish I had one. I don’t sleep well on public transport and maybe not having a pillow is why but I cant myself be bothered to carry one. If your big into the comfort factor don’t forget it.

Take shoes off often and wear clean socks
This is a game changer, as soon as your on the train take your shoes off. The longer they're on the more time to stew and the more disgusted people will be when you realize just how uncomfortable you are with them on. Just get it over with or wear flip flops no one likes the midnight foot stank.

You’ve survived, pat yourself on the back and go to the bar if its still open

Since coming to the country I had heard from various sources that Queensland if full of crazy people, if that's true then the train I was certainly on a Queensland bound train. People watching was incredibly entertaining, one man with a distinctive southern USA accent prowled the aisle occasionally popping a cigarette into his mouth looking like he was about to light it. Every now and again his companion an Australian would appear loudly reminding him if he lit it they would both be thrown off the train. It was like a bogan convention in the back loud chattering and rush as they leapt off the train every stop for a puff of a cigarette before sneaking back to their seats. The conductor came into the car proclaiming that he was unawares if people are just thick but next time you get off the train to smoke bring you bags because you aren’t getting back on. I enjoyed watching a particularly high strung couple pace up and down the aisle huffing in frustration at the inconvenience of not being able to smoke for the eternity that that train takes.
Ill probably be quitting after this pack due to the ridiculousness of the situation, thankfully I can handle a long train ride with out craving one.

I looked out the window for a long while, not entirely sure where we were but seeing enough in the dark to know it was the middle of fucking no where. The landscape rose and fell with a series of small hills. It was farmland as far as you could see by moonlight, only the occasional house light was all that was visible. As we moved farther North fog created pools in the lower areas of the ground wrapping trees in a haunting white glow. The train illuminated small portions of the ground as we took turns I could see down the length to the front of the train. We were in darkness and the only source of artificial light in the area.

I watched the scene to The Flashbulbs album Arboreal which I feel is one of the best albums to accompany any eye candy. Smoking a joint one night back in the New York days I found it the perfect pair to silent Planet Earth Oceans episodes. The 5 hours in darkness was spent staring off at this unusual scene until I began nodding off by the window. Its never really restfully sleeping but drifting off half dreaming to be brought back by any intrusion. The conductor came by around 2:00 waking up the sleeping travelers to get off at Casino where the bus would pick us up for the final stretch.

I couldn't see anything of my stop Casino but the sign proclaimed it to be the Beef Capital. Quite an exciting claim standing outside the station in the cold at 2:20 am. The buses were parked and we were all gathered around waiting patiently to get out of the nipping breeze. The driver was a short fat and happily passive aggressive man that took his time allowing us to hand over our bags, or in my case not at all before being allowed to get on the bus. I sat towards the back and promptly passed out again woken by every stop to Byron. When arriving there I was of course sleeping as well as I had the whole night it took two announcements to get me up.

I left the bus thanking the unsettling happy man and walked out into what had to be the coldest weather i’ve experienced to date in Australia. I had no idea where the hostel was all I knew was it'd be at least 3 hours before I could get there. I went into the first bathroom I could see and piled on clothes. 2 shirts, 2 sweaters, a scarf, hat and gloves. It wasn't great but the best I could do. I walked towards the direction I thought the beach was it was no considerable distance and easy to find considering it was roaring like trucks on the highway. I wandered a bit more than necessary but found the bay, trade mark lighthouse on the hill and all. It was too dark to see what anything really looked like and it was only about 445, sunrise was still a ways away. I set up my tripod and started fiddling with the camera.

I'm likely a strange sight to see on the beach early mornings, I need to move around while taking pictures so generally ill sing songs and do a bit of a dance, noting fancy pretty stupid in fact but who gives a shit when I’m alone (or think I am)  on the beach. I sang Frozen because that's basically what I was becoming and created variations on Mr. Sun excited beyond belief to see little by little the sky change color with its rising.

I needed coffee, badly. I made a pact with myself when traveling I will not skimp on coffee anymore. The instant that a lot of Australians drink is garbage, I love coffee with such a passion its worth the money. At 7am I left the beach to search for a cuppa. I found a small cafe not too far away with booths that I desperately wanted to park my butt on and ordered a long back. Australians despite having good tasting coffee believe less is more on the actual coffee amount, most drinks contain more milk. I struggle to find a place that will pour me a heart attack inducing mug of pure caffeine. I can say sipping out of a tiny cup is very enjoyable and quite relaxing but sometimes I just need a big old cup of American joe, it was that kind of day. I sipped the coffee restraining myself from boorishly sucking it down and remarked at the fact they were playing classical music. I love classical music but not here and not now, I needed pumped up music or to get to the hostel.

Finishing up writing in my notebook I downed the rest of my drink as elegantly as possible and wandered off looking for any sign of Nomads Hostel. After a bit of walking in the wrong direction I entirely by accident stumbled on it. They had just opened and weren't sure if they could yet accommodate me, I was so early. I didn't care about the room quite yet a shower was calling my name, no screaming it. I dropping off my stuff in the storage closet and practically ran up stairs to take one of the longest showers of my life.

After cooking a brekkie of two eggs I had packed in a plastic container with amazing foresight I went back down to reception where I got my room. Going upstairs I turned on my computer and attempted to fight my the system to download some photos to my filled up drive. I layed down for a half a second and fell asleep till 12.

Not one to ever waste a day when I have limited time I set off immediately to find a dive shop that sells snorkels. I packed my camera in the waterproof case and walked towards the beach to see it in all its bright warm glory. The waves were rough I watched them slam down and imagined myself camera in hand being rubbed raw against the sand. I went in the water, it was murky and filled with sea weed. The photographs were meh and the current made me aware that likely I would need a set of fins as well to be comfortable being dragged around. I left unsatisfied but aware that more opportunities this week would be coming my way. I went back to the hostel and got dressed it was around 3:00 and I wanted to take a walk to the lighthouse which seemed about an hour away.

The path to the lighthouse followed the dramatic coast so distinctive to this country as I walked up and down the path. Passing small beaches and walking along the cliff side I got there in time to see the sun set behind the distant mountains creating a golden glow over the shadowed landscape. Snapping photos I met an older gentleman who asked me what kind of lens I was using, I had my new Tokina 11-16 mm out and in action. He remarked he had just bought a Nikon D5100, the same model as mine and was looking to expand his knowledge of photography. We ended up talking for a long time maybe about an hour about photos and his desire to go to the USA and find work. He like I had months ago was unhappy with the same thing and wanted desperately to travel. I was so happy to encourage it, wander lust it seems never really leaves. By the time we finished talking he biked off into the darkness and I set off along the path through the trees. I became aware I was walking on the side of a cliff and couldn't see I promptly took out my ipod flashlight. Walking through the bush after dark is an eerie experience, bush turkeys loomed in the trees making sure at every opportunity to scare the shit out of me as I passed by rustling and flying into the branches in the loudest way possible.

I wandered for about 30 mins on this new path unawares of where it would lead, lights were only sometimes noticeable however the area wasn't big enough to really get lost I thought mainly of woods people and with some amusement drop bears. If was a good walk back and on the way I though of the beers I would reward myself with. For the most part being of very modest income I generally spend the least amount of money possible, lately however I’ve been finding those little things like going to a bar for a beer after a good adventure is whats missing in my travels. The little things are a big deal so I'm now taking the opportunity to enjoy them more thoroughly. Whats the point of traveling if all I do is worry about money anyways.

I had two craft beers at a place called The Balcony, very fancy it made me miss the micro brews of NY. Australia from what I understand is starting to develop more craft breweries its relatively her there aren’t way too many I've seen yet but I was impressed with White Rabbit Dark ale and Knappstein Lager especially. I sat drinking writing in my diary quietly giggling at my own jokes and good wit generally just looking a bit crazy, there was a silent couple sat at the table next to me probably wondering what exactly I was drinking. I left the bar and went back to the hostel parking myself on a bean bag to go through photos, ended up skipping da club all the others were going to in favor of an early nights sleep. Wanted to be as well rested as possible for the greyhound journey to Surfers Paradise.

I'm on the greyhound now, well not this second I’m in a rest stop now drinking coffee as quickly as the heat will allow. I’ve been writing since the going to the stop at 9, its now 1130. I haven’t gotten car sick in years but typing on a bus is not nearly as comfortable as on a train, I think a motion sickness pill might be necessary for the 16 hour journey to Sydney on Sunday. A little over an hour to go till surfers paradise, I think I’ve assaulted your eyes with enough words for one day. One more amusing thing however we passed by a building on the side of the road I thought a cloud of dust was coming off the ground from cars and though dirt road how quaint, the building was Mecca Crematorium. Awkward. Back to the bus, so happy not to need to type anymore its hard writing not looking at the screen.

Sorry for no photos, its quite hard to find the time to do all this things I normally do when writing a blog post. Also sorry for the rushed editing I sat for 2 hours going over it before realizing oh my god I'm in Surfers Paradise and I'm on the computer haha. As usual all photos I've taken that I like can be found at victoriafennell.com. PS. got a twitter see what I'm up too in 140 words or less! @torifennell
(SPOILER: Drinking and taking photos)

The Camera Thief of the Sea

I'm a terribly inconsistent blogger but sometimes there just aren’t any stories to tell, I do however always hope to make up for that on my photographic exploits. This month I expect to be especially active so for your reading pleasure I hope my most recent adventure will be of amusement.

Over this past weekend I decided I needed a day away from the world of Au-pairing, school holidays have begun and until the 15th of July I am essentially useless. I regret to say I have been in the ocean a pathetic number of times these 8 months in Oz, all and all maybe about 3. Saddened by this realization as I looked at the yet unused Dicapac underwater case for my Nikon I saw a golden opportunity. I scanned hostelworld.com and decided to go on an overnight to Coogee Beach that day. Coogee is just south of Bondi and was particularly appealing for the price and use of snorkels free of charge. I packed my bag which consisted of 75% camera gear and set off overly eager to get out of the house and start exploring. 

I got to the hostel by train and bus about two hours later around 2:00 dismayed to find reception closed. Nothing would be open till 5 and by that point it would be too cold to swim. My heart was set on getting some underwater photos so l I considered my options and decided that I could still try by partially submerging the camera and using live view as my "goggles". I wandered Coogee beach looking for the perfect spot. As absolutely lovely all the beaches of Sydney are they pretty much all look the same, a curved beach surrounded by various sized cliffs. In their own ways they differ in atmosphere and that's where the semi-uniqueness lies, Manly for instance being more geared towards surfers and tourists and Coogee more geared towards the swimmers, especially it seemed brave swimmers going well past even my comfort zone. I found a small bath tucked away under the rocks, it was low tide and the path looked pretty easy to get across. I took off my boots and carefully tread over the slippery moss all too conscience of the camera I grasped in my arms. After making it to the bath I sat down on a semi submerged rock, the shock of the cold made me almost happy I had no bathing suit to go in (planned on borrowing a wetsuit). I put my camera over the edge peering at the screen looking for anything interesting, I tried snapping a couple shots to get the hang of the new case.

A Dicapac is not an easy device to start using, the camera fought me at every shot unwilling to focus and wiggling around obscuring the view. This is really beginners misfortune though and the fact that I couldn't see directly what I was doing was zero help as well. The waves passed over me icy needles poking my decreasingly warm dry flesh. Something wrapped around my toes it suck there for a moment before I kicked it off, seaweed I thought attempting to maneuver the camera over. It focused and unfocused unable to get a clear point. I was getting a bit annoyed I took it out of the water and tried fiddling with the settings, the seaweed wrapped around my pinkie and 4th toe I shook it but this time it took a few jerks. I was getting frustrated, I put the camera back in the water as my toes were caressed once more. Oh, the case strap I thought, I pulled it out of the water but my toes were still becoming increasingly covered. Weirded out I scooted over wanting to get away from whatever sticky plant was lurking below. As I returned the camera to the sea tentacles from the deep rose above the water break like the Kraken and planted themselves directly on my case screen. What I previously assumed was rock started moving forwards as the octopus  became discernible, its camouflage was seamless. As quickly as I jumped up the case was out of my hands and eyes like a demon stared into my soul, as it moved forward it wrapped itself further onto the plastic trying to pull my camera with it back into the shallow recesses of the bath. Luckily I had the strap still firmly in hand I tugged softly trying to get it unstuck as an Australian man and his kids watched from behind in amusement. I looked back pointing in disbelief stating rather obviously, “The octopus is trying to steal my camera!” I turned pulling harder, those suckers are strong much stronger than I ever thought. It took two hands to wrestle the case from its grasp and as the camera it popped back at me (thank god not into the rock) the octopus slid back in an effortlessly flawless retreat under the rock out of sight.

Not the thief

I realized I probably just missed an incredible moment of photography as I looked through my useless photos, no octopus was visible, pretty upsetting. The Aussie gentleman who had watched the battle offered me his goggles to search for it. I gratefully accepted and to no avail searched the frigid water for as long as I felt I could politely. One thing that needs saying about Australians is they are genuinely are a lovely group of people, they are easy to talk to and actually make it a habit to try and help a stranger just for the sake of being friendly, that's the norm. I thanked him a few more times for the goggles before stepping out onto the cold shaded rocks and departed for the hostel ready to check in and relax.

Coogee Beach hostel is right across the street from the water a working backpackers kinda place, reasonable rates and tons of tradies with beers in hand at all hours of the weekend. Much bigger than it looks from the outside its more apartment style than any hostel i've been to before and echos like such. They offer free snorkel gear and body boards which is pretty sweet but also charge $3 extra for sheets and have a bond of $30. Cant say much on the social side I wasn’t really in a partying mood more of a relax de-stress and take photos type of vibe. I ate my vindaloo and drank my beers in the girls dorm which thankfully had a table and television playing the suprisingly hilarious Australian musical quiz show Spicks and Specks (I recommend), I was entranced in the non-socialble zone.

Did leave for some photo ops..

Waking up the next morning I was intent on getting out and in the water, I crept out of the screeching metal bunk beds lowering myself down as quietly as possible with no ladder and raced off to reception where a rather hungover gentleman answered all my questions in the least friendly way possible. He warmed up after my good mood wasn't shattered by his mumbling one word answers and questions like "who are you?". I take it the coffee hadn't yet kicked in yet and as a former am shift hostel employee understood his FTW demeanor.

I considered going to the baths again however it was such a small area I opted instead to explore what lay above and beyond the cliff. I wandered up surrounded by joggers who reminded me of what bad shape I must be in after almost a year of neglecting a good run. I reached a place called Gordon's Bay a few minutes later, the water was pristine blue/green and it was best of all empty save one fisherman and one runner who jumped in and out for a quick cool down. I took my backpack off and set up camp on a rock preparing myself for whatever I was about to find.

I'm not ashamed to admit snorkeling can be scary when you’re out of practice, especially in a country like Australia. Stories of jellies sending people to the hospital are concerning enough considering my lack of insurance but its also been quite a while since I've been alone in the water. I felt the eeriness of limited visibility in an environment so clearly not my own. I adore the ocean in fact if I could make my living working in it I would surely die a happy woman, just as long as I don't die in one of the terrifying ways of the ocean obviously. I intend on getting my diving certification someday because clearly after leaving Hawaii I forgot what a unbelievable world lay below the surface that's the only way I can explain my neglected to take advantage. I swam around but wasn't finding much the way of sea creatures besides a few small fish and some snails but the gliding through the gentle current and maneuvering around rocks was slowly building back my water confidence an I more assertively searching for life. I got one picture of a fish but that was all the bay offered in the relatively short time I was there, the inside of my bag seemed to be wet very slightly which immediately concerned me. I got out and checked the case, it seemed like it was likely water that got in from me taking the camera out yesterday. The chill set in and I retreated to my backpack to get a sweater, it may not be a brutal winter in Sydney but its still chilly. My wetsuit arrives next week.

I left the bay feeling proud as only fulfilling a dream can be and returned the gear looking to get on the first bus back to the city. I had to be in Manly at 4 to meet with two French travelers looking for people to chip in on gas for a journey to Byron Bay and Brisbane next week, as far as I know that's a go plans still discussed however.  I've been meaning to take a road trip and finally found an opportunity.

Manly as I’ve said before is a big surf spot but this time around I went past the main beach to an outcrop of rocks there I took photos and encountered my second octopus of the trip. Another talkative Aussie dad was showing it off to his kids and other swimmers in the area. This octopus however remained elusive and my attempts to photograph it were almost futile, I did snap one of its tentacles but its hiding spots were plentiful and it did not have any interest in taking my camera home.

After a very long day of trains, buses, ferries, swimming and octopuses I returned back to Brooklyn refreshed and exhausted counting down the days till I can do it all over again.

If all goes according to plan ill be traveling up the East Coast all next week, if it doesn't go to plan ill still be going somewhere, where remains to be seen…..

I’ll do a brief review of the Dicapac I'm using for my underwater photos, its the WP-S5 model for DSLRs. This honestly for the price might just be about the best you can get, in all my research the Dicapac was the most durable looking and highest reviewed non-hard shell case, however its far from perfect. I experienced no fogging thankfully but did get slight condensation in the case, I used it 3 separate times in the day. I may need to attribute that water more to myself getting the camera out and dripping in the bag but honestly its impossible to avoid. The case is far from easy to get your camera in and out of; I used my 17-55mm lens but it was tight around the body of the camera as well, that worries me on the long term use. Its a risk to use this case more in the human error sense so be careful sealing it cant hurt to check and double check.  I'm personally happy with it despite the scare I received seeing a bit of water on the inside but I am fairly certain that was my own doing. So if your just going on vacation and doing some light snorkeling or going in the pool it should serve you just fine however I would worry taking it submerged for longer amounts of time or down more than 15ft. Ill be using this for the time being may even order a backup when I'm ready to leave the Sydney area but ill also be looking for ways to afford the Ikelite D5100 housing, I feel for a more a better sense of security I'd spend more but there is not much on middle ground on these products, Dicapac averages around $80 and Ikelite starts around $1400.

Sailing around the city

The 26th Of January is Australia day, its the day in 1788 the first fleet of convicts and marines made it to Port Jackson, New South Wales now commonly referred to as Sydney. Over the next 80 years 160,000 men and women would be through Penal Transportation relocated to Australia to serve time for their crimes. Interestingly before criminals were shipped down to Australia this punishment was common in North American colonies. Pre-USA was faced with labor shortages and England burdened with over crowding in prisons so the exchange was considered a win-win. This however was short lived as the Revolution put the kibosh on that route sending it years later in a more southernly direction. Having no prior knowledge of immigration history to Australia besides knowing that a lot of the people shipped down were convicts, I always imagined they were hardened criminals of the worst sort sent of to do manual labor for life; this is not the case however many of the convicts were imprisoned for small crimes by today's punishment standards. Around 80% of men and women transported were guilty of petty larceny, sometimes with as little as one offense. Now I know punishment back in the day was more severe but imagine being shipped half way across the world for stealing a bit of food? I guess when you compare it to the other options of the day it doesn't seem all that terrible. Australians certainly don't seem proud of their convict history but they should take it a little to heart that quite a few of these people were probably sent here for being poor and desperate much like the migrations of countless free peoples before.

Work in the new Australian colonies was assigned based on education level, skills and gender. Educated men were put in more kush jobs such as office work where the uneducated were likely to find themselves as manual laborers. Women both convict and free found themselves in textile factories or married, if a female convict became a wife she was dismissed of her crimes. The work of manual labor convicts is visible all across Australia and the difficulties they faced are evident in every hand carved rock structure. Cockatoo Island as a prison specifically was quarried and built up by the prisoners themselves.

Cockatoo Island to the history buff is a spectacular place, old machinery scatters the Island cranes looming into the sky at enormous heights, it goes to show just how serious a business ship building is. Named a word heritage site in 2010 its open to the public to explore and offers entry into a good number of different warehouses and the former convict housing area. Camping is available to those willing to spend a small fortune, that's where I spent my Saturday night "Glamping" next to the water of the harbor under the shadows of cranes.

My normal camping is anything but glamorous. Over the summer before leaving the mainland my dog and I did two 20 mile hikes on the Appalachian trail staying overnight in my little 2 person tent. Being new to backpacking I did pretty well on packing for everything but we were far from comfortable. Comfort hiking is a lovely surprise and cannot be expected unless you plan on carrying your body weight on your back. The fact that its hard is what makes it exciting and the sight of the shelter after a 10 mile hike and that campfire sweater smell the next day is worth the torture you may endure.  I'm a minimalist by poor planning but its worked out pretty well so far. Glamping is the art of camping that requires zero effort, everything is already laid out for you upon arrival including an off ground pre-made hotel style cot. It was by far the most comfortable tent I've ever slept in but lacked any real camping vibe especially considering although my pillow was hairless, tick less and lacking the body heat of an exhausted German Shepard. Had I planned the experience myself I wouldn't have been able to glamp far too expensive but may have considered hiring a camping spot and setting up my own tent for a fraction of the price. To camp on the Sydney harbor side surrounded by masses of metal and worn buildings is quite a unique experience and a bit creepy in a good way. For the backpacker like me who may find glamping may be a bit out of reach financially there are camp sites for about 45-50 bucks a night if your willing to bring a tent, that's just a little more than a Sydney Hostel dorm and I promise you the dorm doesn't have the view. I am happy for the experience I otherwise would not have had and absolutely recommend it to anyone looking for a bit of history and decay but I cannot recommend it to the partiers looking for an Island rave. The camping on a Saturday night was packed with families, kids running wild all sporting glow sticks and screaming in the dark. It reminded me of my childhood except slightly less dirty and bonfire less which if you ask

me is unforgivable. Things wound down early I don't even remember hearing any music; by the time 10pm rolled around even I was nearly asleep and the area around quiet. There is a bar on the Island that closes at 9 pm and alcohol is not permitted in luggage (they check, hide well) you're looking at restaurant prices for bottled wine from the cafe and as for the bar well, if you've experienced Australian alcohol prices don't expect many cheap options. Maybe the backpackers stay the weekdays I wouldn't know personally but just in case consider your reasoning for going before dropping the deposit as not to be disappointed by the lack of night time thrills, however they do every now and again host festivals which I would attend without a second thought if given the opportunity. It costs around $10 for a round trip ferry pass and its well worth the trip whether to stay or just have a day visit.  Going for a day is almost as good as staying overnight since you can see mostly everything fairly quickly but the latter it is a pretty unique experience in Sydney, after all how many places can you camp on an old Shipyard?

I woke up the next morning with a mind full of plans and made a hasty departure from my host family to finish exploring some warehouses I only had the opportunity to glance in the previous day. Unfortunately I was too early, at 10am and they were all still locked up. I peered through the bars looking at what I expect were sights similar to what I'd already experienced. I figured a glance was good enough, the one big warehouse I was really wanting to see contained a bar and restaurant modern additions I really could not give a shit about so I walked towards the wharf ready to start a new adventure.

I am now convinced that Sydney is one of the most beautiful and interesting cities I have ever visited. I realized this as I sat on the ferry traveling back to Circular Quay, the sights are spectacular almost everywhere I've been so far. Public transportation is even more enjoyable in Sydney, I'm sure for the casual visitor that's true more so than for the resident but there is something about having ferries as a option to get to so many places that give you a sense of the city being so much more diverse and enormous. There are also certain conveniences to Australian transportation that now seem to be such common sense such as double decker trains with movable seats. Imagine getting on the Metro North and having a whole nother level of seating on the packed morning commutes and being able to split up those annoying groups of six seats into a less awkward three.

I departed the ferry at Circular Quay and jumped on the next one 20 mins later to Manly Beach thinking that it might be hard to leave this city come October.

Manly Cove was named by Captain Arthur Philip after seeing the manliness and confidence of the Aborigines living in the area, why not? Bondi and Manly are the two main beaches you hear about when talking about Sydney the must visits according to other travelers, I'll add my stamp of approval onto Manly for sure. Getting on the street outside the wharf I immediately was taken with its surfer town vibe. Shoeless beach bums roamed the streets bobbing their head in that hey man attitude and tourists flocked in bunches towards the beach to watch the surfers catch the waves they wish they could ride. If you have any love for the ocean this beach will make you wish you could surf, swimming isn't quite good enough when you see those first few successful wave rides. I had to kill a lot time to catch a ferry after dark to see the Opera House lit up for Vivid, it was only 12:30. I sat on the beach scribbling in my diary and working
on a short story that may take my whole life to complete until my mind became numb, it didnt take long. Distracted by the waves I sat in the sand rising to catch a few pics of the surfers in the distance. A small beach off to the right of me caught my attention, it was a little cove tucked away behind a small hill. I had a heavy bag from camping and wasn't in the mood to walk far but decided to go for it for lack of anything better to do. The water was crystal clear patches of bright blue pools shimmered against the sandstone. I wished I'd brought a bathing suit and snorkeling gear but it was winter now and I figured it would be too cold to swim; NEVER assume this in Australia I'm convinced you'll find people in the water on the coldest of days which compared to North Eastern USA is a joke.

I looked at the picturesque spot thinking if I was ever filthy rich enough to live where ever I wanted it would be a water front home in Manly. I looked at a map of the area looking for things to do when I saw a large blotch of land sectioned off as Quarantine Station. Q Station was used in the 19th century for isolating migrants with suspected contagious disease before being allowed into Sydney Harbor. I had been wanting to visit for months, half due to historical interest and half because I'd seen they had ghost tours and was dying to go on one. I decided to find it after planning a walk up North Head to the fort, the Q station cemetery and whatever beautiful location I could stumble upon.

Never in my life have I gone the wrong direction so many times consecutively. Manly and the north head trails are not big so how I ended up getting so lost is beyond my comprehension, therefore, I blame the map. My last words may just someday be "I'm just going for a short walk."  The paths on the way to North Fort are incredible, just up the hill from the cove is a series of cliffs with small pathways you're at your own discretion to climb. There are no barriers as I found out emerging from the bushes to the edge of a sheer drop, there were signs I just didnt expect it to be quite so dramatic. I was roaming into Sydney Harbor National Park, a park that for its size contains many of the most unmissable views Sydney had to offer.

Along the way I walked by a nature sanctuary where I picked up said worst map in the world and proceeded to walk the opposite direction for what seemed like an eternity looking for any distinguishable signs or landmarks. Finally after what seemed like and had been hours I gave up or better yet decided "fuck it" and walked towards what I though at the time was the wrong direction. I wandered defeated looking for a main road to see if I cold catch any sort of bus back to Manly having zero idea where to go. I'd seen more of the Australian bush than I really cared to experience that day when suddenly I found a sign for Fairfax lookout, DAFUK? This spot was where I thought I was walking away from and a spot even further from where I needed to be. Kind of getting pissed I to fuck it level 2, which is denial and walked to see what all the fuss was about. 

Holy shit, Fairfax lookout is a Sydney highlight and not something you should never miss.

Walking around the circular track admiring the sights I saw an obelisk shape above the trees, I looked at it a bit dumbfounded. Here I was going what I thought was the complete wrong way but ended up being the oh so right one? How many obelisks could possibly be that had to be the cemetery. A wall separated two sides of the bush, I could no longer see the point of the structure, I felt it was to the right and true to form went left. Luckily the was a break in the wall by the water that I climbed over to get to the right side. The cemetery is not looked after whatsoever, it was overgrown the obelisk the only marker of its existence. I half expected bones to be emerging in the roots of plants somewhere. I fought through the bush to search around but gave up after a few minutes it was hopeless and I am always wary walking off the beaten path in Australia due to my foreigner fear of creatures. I figured the cemetery was a good indicator for Q Station being nearby, it was pushing 4:00 and got concerned it was closed. I walked slightly faster down the road I had been looking for only an hour ago jealous of the bikes that zipped by at a lazy but quicker pace. My bag was starting to hurt my shoulders and back but I ignored the pain the best I could until I saw that glorious Q Station sign ahead and people walking past the open gates, .

Sunset was about an hour off I walked down the hill towards the wharf where the visitors center was expecting it to be closed. A sign approached, two choices wharf district and hospital district. Obviously I chose hospital this place is apparently haunted I wanted to see some creepy shit. Q Station alas was not what I expected. My disappointment began when I walked by the first building, the morgue. Nothing was open for exploration and I don't think you are permitted to go in without a guide so I stuck my face to the glass peering in at the room. A plastic severed hand sat in a bowl by the window, I briefly thought that's a load of bull shit but ignored the one set up item as someones bad idea for a creepy addition to the tour. I walked over to the hospital quarters peering through the locked doors noticing a number of hand prints on the windows, they were very staged looking and on the inside, my expectations dropped another level. I wandered into an old bathroom probably the creepiest thing so far and as I turned to leave got startled by a nurses uniform propped up against the window of the infirmary. It seems a few of the buildings at Q Station burned down in the early 2000s and were rebuilt I found this out by the signs proclaiming, "This building has an interesting history." More like this spot really. I had enough of the hospital section it was getting dark and I wanted to watch the sunset by the water.

As the sky darkened I began to think of leaving, I figured the less I saw the better maybe I could make a trip back for a better experience when it was open. The only problem with this plan was I had no idea how to get back to Manly. I went into a bar opposite the visitors center and asked the bartender if there was any ferries coming to pick up passengers that night. He was supremely useless in giving me any information but very nice and probably new to the job, he had that fresh I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about vibe. From what I could decipher from his almost equally unhelpful boss there was a shuttle I could take to the top of the hill followed by a bus running maybe every hour to Manly. I waited for the shuttle for a few minutes before deciding it was a waste of time and started walking. It was getting darker and the street lights were minimal it was also really really empty. I began to suspect I wasn't suppose to be there but since they often have overnight stayers and I had a bag I probably looked like a guest so I took my time. I noticed a sign for the 3rd class precinct, I had no idea how to get back anyways and really no time constraints so I traveled down a dark lightless road, the scariest thing Q Station has to offer. One of the buildings in this precinct had burned down like the area of the hospital and as I walked past the "This building has an interesting history" sign over the overly creaky planks I got the impression they had been purposely built that way for the sake of spookiness. I left after that not sure if this was a historical site, "paranormal attraction" or event venue. Suffice to say I will not be dropping 50-70 bucks on the ghost tour however I may make an attempt to go back at some point during operating hours for a shot at historical redemption.

I finished my walk at reception to find I'd missed the bus by over an hour, of course.  The walk back to the beach took a surprisingly quick 30 mins I had honestly expected at least an hour the way y day had gone. I took the first opportunity to stop in a 7-11 for some frozen slushy comfort before racing to the Wharf to jump on the first boat I saw. Circular Quay, it was boarding just as I arrived. I tucked myself between the bars of the stairs and the side of the boat good picture location for the Harbor and excellent spot to watch the seagulls flying alongside the boat swooping for a group of German tourist's food.

Upon arriving the harbor looked dark, the bridge was lit up on the opposite side and only very slight color changes were noticeable almost mistakable for the normal lights. For a moment I thought I'd gotten it wrong that Vivid was on for three weeks straight. As we bobbed around the front of the Opera House it was beautifully apparent that Vivid was very much in full swing, the entire wharf and surrounding buildings glowed with lights. Vivid is a 3 week festival of light where all over the city amazing shows are put on by artists on the Opera house, Harbor Bridge, in Darling Harbor, the Aquarium roof and countless others. This weekend I will make an effort to get video of the event as its deserving of its own post.

Zen and the Art of Assembly

Ikea and I have always had a love hate relationship, often I find myself elated with an new purchase only to be bordering fury a few hours later. I've always been fairly useless on the assembly side of things as the instructions and I often agree to disagree on direction of certain parts. When it comes down to it though you cant even tell the brown back of the black DVD case is the wrong way around when its filled with movies. Having my apartment I often encountered do it yourself assemblies and disassembles, too often in fact for my brief 1 1/2 years.  Beds with an impossible amount of potential for disaster were always well obliging on that end. I undoubtedly poured sweat, blood, tears (in that order) and was left surrounded in a minefield of cardboard, wood and screws; my little allen key faithfully deciding at the most inconvenient moment to hide itself underneath me, located only by standing and spinning 360 degrees multiple times. I have never built anything right the first time, not even when I was making two identical pieces. I am the queen of how not to create furniture an example to all, how its not done. 

Until today. 
Today I finally mastered Ikea and put together two table top covers for a set of drawer with ease and distinction. I was a handy woman worthy of my screwdriver and went in determined to get it right the first time, if mainly to avoid embarrassment from my host dad and his guest.

My day started much like any other day I woke up wondering despite having an alarm if I was late. A few minutes early as usual, I wished it was earlier so I could at least get a snooze in. I cut my losses and rolled off sloppily over the side of my bed bumbling over to my chair to grab my sweater (Winter in Aus but still not really cold) and shoved my iPod in my pocket to alienate the boredom of waiting for the kids. At some point between Cracked articles they walked down and the routine began, we ate breakfast got dressed and they ran wildly around which having consumed only 1 cup of coffee I had no time for. Off to school we went side stepping a bizarre amount of dog poo along the sidewalk. W walked into each other constantly in a drunken dance of tiredness. I hate mornings. Arriving back to the house I found a mountain of stuff forming outside, my host dad was cleaning out the front room. Since I had arrived the "music room" had been almost full up with boxes of stored curiosities, the Halloween decorations in particular gave it a bit of a spooky air as severed heads blocked out the natural light. A beautiful grand piano in the center began peaking out gloriously from behind the boxes and luxurious looking couch hidden under a pile of clothes began to take form next to the unnoticed and unused fire place. 

Its interesting how clutter can define the mood and psychology of a home. There is no feeling of openness in a place of clutter, whole rooms swallowed and unused their contents a foul deterrent that keeps you away except to add to it and run, fueling its mission to spread and consume. A mountain of stuff is an intimidating force and its not exactly a quick process to rid yourself of either. When faced with this type of challenge it seems that for a while you can only stare as if the trash will decide, "Your right I don't need to be here anymore thanks for letting me crash for a while, I'll just be on my way. Oh nice place you got here!"  No, we watch preaching the bible of procrastination for days, weeks, months and possibly even years. We stare and we wait for that magical moment we wake up one morning and yell "Fuck you garbage" race into the room going ape-shit crazy and throw it all out. Old Christmas wrapping paper? Gone! That foam hand from that game 5 years ago? Poof! Grandmas ashes? We'll keep that but the stuff blocking it on the mantle, HaHa toast! Unhappiness brews stronger within confined spaces and faster when the space grows tighter.

Seeing how that room was transforming inspired me to take to the kids toy room which I had once before unsuccessfully tried to organize. With the okay to throw things out it was now a possible task. They have more toys than any two kids I've ever seen, large piles lay in every corner. There were items that likely had not felt a child's touch since being bought and toys some unopened pouring from over filled drawers.  A child when faced with too many options and too much clutter will often do the same as an adult and stay far away sneaking in to grab a familiar item once and a while amongst the mass, whats the point of it all? Going through the tubs I found toys for infants and the most random crap. McDonalds needs to market happy meal toys as instant trash for the home or car, no unwrapping required but recommended for optimal mess. Fell free to contact me Maccas ill give you some commercial ideas based on reality. 3 hours passed like 5 and as I sat surrounded by the smallest and most troublesome little toys I had ever encountered, I hit the wall. The cleaning wall is a very very hard thing to get past, once you stop for too long reality falls away leaving you surrounded by darkness and garbage, time stops, you can see your breath and all gets cold there is only you and garbage in the world noting else exists, its a haunting feeling. You stare at the pile before you like an expansive mountain range needing crossing, the task becomes impossible. I took this moment as a time for a change, that change was to take to the neglected Ikea boxes in the corner and build myself a reason to need to clean again.

I unpacked the boxes attempting first and foremost not to scratch the floor which I have very good experience doing in my old apartment. I laid out the pieces and tools carefully and looked at the instructions. Philips head screwdriver, thank god, anything with the allen key meant certain suicide by blunt force trauma to the skull. I read the instruction manual always feeling initially like the apes from the beginning of 2001 Space Odyssey only, screwdriver instead of stick. I read it paying close attention as I never had before to the locations of all the little holes in the boards my main scourge. I was skeptical but with relative ease started created something resembling furniture! It turned out all the heartache and frustration of days past was seemingly over. I was a regular bob the fucking builder piecing the thing together bit by bit so quickly that to my surprise I found myself unpacking the second one despite not originally intending to do both. I placed the pieces in their final resting places half expecting something to go wrong but it was perfect, seeing such tidiness thanks to a job well done where there was once such disaster inspired me all over again. 

Cleaning as much as it sucks is so good for the mind. I personally believe to be surrounded by a mess is one thing that makes a home a home but when you allow that home to be swallowed you in turn alienate yourself from any connection to your space. By the way I am as many many people will confirm a very messy person and proud. However seeing the unhappiness cleared away by such a task is impressive, it may not solve the problems of the world and it may not heal any wounds but its certainly a good start to clearing the air. 
In all the room took about 8 hrs Ikea included.

Going to camp on an Island In Sydney Harbor this weekend pics ect to come. Vivd starts as well for the next 3 weeks.

Photos for your enjoyment, tonight's sunset.

not a bad view.... Autumn in Oz

Hawaii

I've been thinking a lot about Hawaii lately. Before starting this blog and before Australia I spent 3 months working in a hostel in Kona on the Big Island; that a plane from New Orleans transported me to an entirely different world, one which I found pulled me rather harshly from my hustling NY attitude to a more relaxed and happier way of thinking. Since I never got to write about it then I thought I'd do a blog post about the detox from "normal" life.

No DSLR in Hawaii so all pictures are mine but from Instagram, couldn't get the ones taken from my phone since I went swimming in the ocean with it on me one fateful night. However there are a ton of better ones up on my instagram site feel free to take a look.

I arrived in Kailua Kona Hawaii just after sunset in September 2013 fresh from a 5 day vacation to New Orleans a city that I had for years pined to see. It was dark when I got off the plane so the sights were lost to me on arrival but on the decent had offered glimpses of an expansive dark and rocky coast looking promisingly beautiful in the dwindling light.  I impatiently waited for what seemed like an eternity to exit the plane wanting desperately to stand somewhere where I could at the very least stretch my arms without hitting someone in the face. When freedom arrived and I took full advantage speed walking as far away as possible from the airborne tube that I had spent the last 5 hours sitting in, I would have ran if it wouldn't have caused confusion; you can never be too sure these days...  The airport was small and much to my delight outdoors. I walked over to the baggage claim waited for my hefty backpack to tumble down the elevated ramp,  I breathed a heavy breath of fresh jet fuel laden air, ahhh I thought, Hawaii. I headed out to the curb backpack in tote to wait for my ride from the manager of Koa Wood Hale of whom I had only had correspondence over workaway.info and Facebook. I was a bit nervous, never had participated in any kind of work for accommodation deal and I had no idea what to expect from the hostel I would be spending the next 3 months in.

Hawaii is every bit as beautiful as movies, honeymooners and travel agencies would make you believe, it is a paradise. The Big Island at 4,028 sq miles is unbelievably diverse. Kona and Hilo on opposite sides of the Island couldn't be more different. Kona is for the most part a beach less town, not to say there isn't anywhere to swim though. Late night parties often ended at the pier where a jump into the sea is absolutely necessary, a tire at the time was provided for climbing back up, my nights very often led me there. A hotel also created a shielded artificial beach but the closest real waves can be found 4 miles down the road at Magic Sands a treacherous little spot given the alias Tragic Slams, there have been deaths from the power of those waves. Long stretches of hardened lava forms oozing patterns in the rough black rocks that stretch for miles, magnificent clear blue beaches dot the coast outside of town. Kona is a small town and a port for enormous cruise ship's little ferries to dock every few days, shops with tourist crap line the alleys and streets as well as restaurants from commercial giants like Bubba Gump, where I almost had a job, to cafes and Metal Mikes wicked pretzel stand. It is for sure a tourist town but pulls it off with a laid back small town atmosphere. Hilo is far greener and jungle like and for that beauty the price is paid with temperamental and sportaic weather, it is the wettest city in the United States. It practically will pour rain seemingly out of no where and be sunny and beautiful a few minutes later much to your soaking wet dismay.  I had first hand experiences of this every time I visited the town and once walked around in a sleeping bag to stay warm and slightly drier. You can drive around the entire Island in a day although it'd be incredibly stupid to do so, you'd miss The Big Islands incredible valleys, its active volcano, jumping off the southern most point of the USA, towns that morph from desert to savannas to jungle, uncountable number of beaches, mountains and observatories it is a place that cannot be truly appreciated in 1 week.

Its amazing to realize how tightly wound stress can make you when you come to a place like Hawaii. Anything more than a casual vacation shows you just how fucked up and tightly wound you've become. The attitude of the Island is slow and lazy nothing even work ever needs rushing. I cant remember once when running late to the hostel from the beaches getting stressed over a couple minutes past 5, maybe its because the manager was always with us but regardless back home a mere minute of two would send me into an escalating panic followed by an avalanche of apologies until I was left exhausted and praying for the end of the day. I think the best way to explain how I felt was what I wrote in my diary 1 week in to the experience.

Slow moving days island time is just a haze, hot lazy attitudes prevail and I understand why surrounded by beautiful sights and vacation attitudes its hard to begin thinking about working, harder even so to muster up the energy to find it. I'm sunburned all over, painful pride of my days spent in relaxation on beaches of crystal clear waters.

I had a bit of a conflict of the mind those first two weeks, I was loving that I was there but feeling like I somehow didn't deserve it. Strange mentalities are created when you get in the habit of not enjoying life and spending your time solely focusing on working to pay bills, any entertainment a burden to the bank. The fact that I couldn't relax unless I got an additional job to supplement my dwindling income was a worry seemingly very American, fretting the worst before it even became an issue. Detoxing from the American city state of mind was surprisingly hard for me, my mind actively fighting my new found relaxation. Americans like to be told what they deserve to feel in a sense it is earned, its a terrible condition we're taught early on; our worth is our job and how much we can make. Vacation time a measure of our success, insurance for those worthy and anything more than $10.00 an hour a godsend and seemingly impossible to find. We are a nation so mentally and financially enslaved to our work that often the company becomes our identity, generally the lower jobs of big corporations. How many times especially before Christmas especially have you heard some horrible customer shut down a cashier for some stupid inconvenience or invented problem, I was that cashier once and ill be damned if that woman saw me as anything less than a sad looking scanning machine for her overpriced shit. One of the richest countries in the world and we have people actively fight against providing service jobs with livable wages. People who work these lowly jobs are according to those with heads firmly placed up their assholes are clearly lazy with a lack of drive to succeed. These jobs as regarded as being work for high school kids who obviously don't need a lot of money to spend especially not for anything like college. Working at McDonalds may not be your idea of a career but for too many its all they got, well no actually I lied in reality they probably have another job as well. Australia has American companies paying Australian wages and all the doors are open, just saying. 

Back to Hawaii

One night two fellow workers and I went to a small festival in a patch of grass on the cliff side, It was called Earth Dance. It was a gathering of all the dirtiest hippies on the Island doing yoga to the sunset and dancing to the Djs with names like McSwagger. We had taken some LSD shortly after arriving and danced to the music on the side of this hill overlooking the ocean into the night. Fire dancers spun batons and were very clearly amateurs, they dropped the flames often enough to keep our distance for love of having hair. We became entranced by the sight of a bald woman (not scorched by the dancers) being painted by the light of a bonfire. Later into the night we realized to our surprise we had been left by our other coworker and ride. Much to the understandable frustration of the hostel manager he came to pick us up and the ride home was for me the turning point in Hawaii, the abandoning of my caring for what I had once considered normal and the start of my traveller mentality. 

We waited by the road for the truck with two teenage girls seemingly tripping face with no transportation. Offering to drop them off would not make our manager happy but they were young and ride less on the side of a dark road. When the truck approached we all piled into the trunk and started off on the journey to find the girls house. After they had gone we tried our best not to seem overly happy since we had been probably the most annoying bunch of people to him on Earth at the moment sitting chatting away on a mysterious detour. We sat in silence from then on the road home was windy, dark and nestled on the side of a cliff. He drove quickly as we sat both immersed in our own world and the thrill of the ride. The tail lights of the car seemed to stretch back in an endless line vividly painting the road where we once had been. There were no street lights just those tail lights glowing the most intense of reds. The trees parted occasionally giving us glimpses of the landscape below, moon illuminating the water in the far distance casting a hauntingly silver glow over the horizon. The landscape was dark save a few lights painting the ground in small patches. We swerved through a tunnel shaped by the dark trees stretching above us linking branches as if hands reaching toward each other to guide us through a forest, I could have half expected a decrepit castle to be on the other side. The engine roared every shift of gears changing its tune as we rode higher into the sky. For a while all was dark except those tail lights which to me at that moment so obviously was a reminder of the past which was already set in the pavement behind me and out of reach. I don't know how long I watched those lights for but it struck me that the focus is always on what was and what could have been when really that was all in front of me. I looked up the water was hidden behind the trees and all was dark for a long few minutes before the world opened up. For the most part of the trip we had been looking backwards but as we rose over the crest of the hill, all of Kona was illuminated before us. Darkness for miles, ocean to the left trees to the right and off so far away the cluster of lights that for the past few weeks I had been happy to call home. My eyes like the landscape were opened, the worries of the past behind me where they would stay, those are what I had left to get away from. Upon arriving back to the hostel we found we had similar experiences in the truck and went off to the shops to get a couple Wailua beers and go to the beach and talk. The moon looked huge as we drank and for the first time since I arrived I didn't have a care in the world, I was in Hawaii. 4 hours after arriving home we went to our staff bunk room to sleep, I with the feeling of a world a new.

Finally no rush to eat breakfast, savour the pebbles those fruity pebbles

It certainly was a would a new. I ended up getting a job at Bubba Gump but they asked so much from the employees in a slightly absurd training schedule involving memorizing an entire menu drink ingredients included before even getting on the floor. I decided it didn't matter anymore I was in Hawaii fuck focusing on work, I was working for my accommodation already I didn't have that many worries really. I picked up a job cleaning hotel rooms around my schedule. I started playing the guitar to fill those long hours when I wasn't occupied and became a major supporter of Hawaii time.

For all its many pluses Hawaii also has its negatives. Homelessness for one is rampant of both Islands I visited. Not far from the wealth of Waiki and the glamorous hotels people sleep in parks by the dozens. On Oahu for being the more popular island I was genuinely surprised at the poverty that is in plain sight, couples holding hands walking past a man sleeping in the dirt. I was walking one night with a friend in Kona talking about how alike the south park episode of Hawaii was to the reality. People coming on vacations acting as if they own the place, not many people really bother to get to know or acknowledge the real Hawaii. Maybe we take advantage of the fact that it is now a US state and ignore that its culturally not the mainland and as such has a much different history to the rest of the USA, however we still consider it 'Merica and it has become one of the most taken advantage of treasures the country has acquired.  On our walk we talked about the blind tourism of the island and from the bushes came a strangers raspy voice in response "You may be white, but your not stupid". I looked to the right seeing the vague outlines of a few people tucked away drinking from a 24pk of beer in a set up tarp home on the side of the road. Don't remember what I said back generally my brain turns off and defaults something like a laugh or have a good night/day, thanks/sorry when I'm surprised by something. I said a default response and we walked quietly away till we were far enough away to consider the coincidence. When you think about it especially in the cold of mainland winter Hawaii is easier livings if you're homeless. I used to pick bananas at the hotel I cleaned and bring them back to the hostel, fruit is often accessible if you look hard enough and its warm all year round. You don't  necessarily need money for it to be a paradise.

Although you could be a Rob Schnider impersonator from 50 First Dates if you need some extra green

Reluctant goodbye 

Its not easy to find the real Hawaii, its out there for sure if you take a look but you need to look past the views to find the real people of the Islands. Although the natural beauty of the most of the islands is still for the most part left alone the natural theme park vibe could one day start spreading. Not all the Islands are the same, I couldn't get anywhere else but The Big Island and Oahu but Maui and Kauai are much better for avoiding that heavy tourism from what I understand. Had I had the money to visit them I surely would have gone, I will likely make a trip back for it. Hawaii was one of the most exciting  times of my life and I feel I missed out on the real experience the Islands offer, just need to make the time to appreciate it.

Battle of attentions ipad vs tori

Australia is a damn big country, anyone with a map can confirm this observation; however until you stand here planning a trip to get around the whole thing in a month on a modest budget you really don't realize just the massive size of it. The planning of the next trip is always thrilling but incredibly frustrating especially when working with a country of this magnitude. I should be used to it really coming from America but honestly I didn't travel around the states before leaving so I really never had to map it out as realistically as I'm doing with the 6 states of Oz.

Over the past week I have weighed options and find two very different paths before me. First option the exploration of a whole new continent and lifestyle in Southeast Asia but at the expense of seeing all Australia, Tasmania and New Zealand have to offer. Second option is to prolong this part of the world and get to see a bit of everything with the downside of work being the focus for the foreseeable future. However to work in New Zealand doesn't seem too bad the more and more research I do, its just the finding of job and accommodation I despise. Good thing I have 3 months?

In the meantime things in the now are looking better, too much free time can get you down especially when you think of all the better ways it can be served. However if given enough time you will eventually tire of being bored and start finding little ways your get back up and brush off the dust.  I'm working on that part step by step. So off to observations and such. 

I've been taking pictures but just around Brooklyn, nothing I'm too keen on but ill add a couple to entertain the less word inclined readers.

Its a sad thing when you notice you're constantly sitting by yourself surrounded by a family of iPads.

Little iPad watching the same episode of Peppa Pig over and over to the gradual irritation of all those with ears, older iPad watching British people play mine craft on YouTube, once more to the gradual irritation of all those with ears and father iPad working away at something business oriented I assume. I sit nanny iPod reading through articles that on paper I wouldn't wipe my ass with, all to waste away the lingering days. Its really quite a sad sight to look at us all in retrospect as I often find myself doing in the silence of human communication How intent and vacant those little faces look illuminated by the colorful glow of the screen. I often wonder are they really gaining anything knowledge wise with the use of this technology?

I wake up at roughly 7:30 each morning. My Sublime Bad Fish alarm goes off and I neatly get up and turn off the alarm, or, I smack my hand blindly for the snooze button then leap out 10 minutes later thinking I overslept but usually more than I care to admit I practically roll to the floor and stumble off in some direction till I wake up enough to notice I'm out of bed already. If the parents leave for work early the kids are up at the same time as me and ready by 8:00. I put the kibosh on all that watching tv/ipad nonsense, school before videos ain't nobody got time for that when we got backpacks to pack. This particular morning the parent did not leave early for work so I was at the mercy of their sending the kids out of their room and down stairs at some point. Every morning for the past week the oldest child has been watching these terrible videos of British men playing mine craft. The guys think they're witty and probably on some level think they're cool because of all their YouTube views. Heads up dudes its 7 year olds watching you, move out of the basement and get a job. Anyways, when asked to stop watching mine craft videos and get dressed this particular morning a near nuclear meltdown began. From the whining it sounded like his world was ending, any mention of shutting the thing off started waterworks and desperate argues as if the the iPad screen becoming black for a mere second would implode it into a parallel universe never to be seen again. Just to remind you these were videos of people playing mine craft not even him playing the game himself. The tears luckily were stopped by an outside parental force which when around is the voice of god whereas I become the mere lunch maker. These are not good mornings especially considering it was nearing 8:30.

Only yesterday as well when watching the younger of the two siblings home from daycare, her attention could not be held for more than 5 minutes because of the iPad, the elephant in the room on the couch. We jumped on the trampoline for about 3 minutes then inside she went to the iPad. We hula hooped, really more like I hula hooped she stopped by for a quick visit though and then went back inside to play with the iPad, finally we made puzzles, well you get the point it took me about 5 mins for a 4ft fire truck. I seem to remember from years babysitting that kids her age could be entertained for longer by a leaf, well maybe just not a leaf throw a stick in as well for good measure. Outside? Outside was a gold mine of excitement. How could this 3 year old not find any enjoyment from being outside and how the fuck can a girl her age find Keshas Timber music video on YouTube? Educational apps available or not access to Kesha type stimuli for a child has zero benefit.

The one good thing about my day occurred when the battery died before I could decide whether or not to take it away.  I did a half ass scan for the charger and admitted defeat suggesting perhaps we go to the park where she could play and I could do a bit of writing. Fresh air awoke that glorious child-like imagination as she made me a vegemite ice cream cone with toast bites inside. The park was empty besides us, granted its a small town but it was a beautiful day sunny and warm without being oppressive as the Aus sun tends to get mid afternoon. I wrote and she ran around entertaining herself topping by to tell me random facts about nature and the state of the world hastily invented. Sadly it sometimes seems that parks are empty too often, of all the times we've been there we are either alone or it is co-occupied surprisingly briefly as if a rest stop on a long journey home. 

Some eye candy for yous guys

One particularly annoying result of the iPads i've noticed to my distaste is the lack of coloring at resturants or tick-tack-toe. Why bother when you can play drag-racing-drag-dressing-zombie-hunting-birds lite. I find dining with the kids when they are given the iPads to be especially awkward, its never nice to be ignored over a game and even less so when its not one you can rightly participate or even want to participate in. I can only stare into the distance for so long and dont bring electronics into a resturant setting with company. They could outsource me with the iPad at this rate because if you pass the kid the thing its pretty much guaranteed his ass is planted firmly into that seat.  

We take to the screens too often, but no more if I can help it. As I noticed the inactivity of body and mind around me I thought perhaps this is a part of my problem. I sit in front of a screen thinking about topics for blog posts and turn to hbogo and netflix defeated and let down, that feeling lasts through into the next time I attempt to write or even do something productive. It is a poison of the mind which leaves you unfulfilled and wanting more but at the same time telling you its too much effort to try. When I wrote in the park words flowed, not even a whole post even just little points which I have used to mold what you're now reading. Nothing comes out of staring at a screen but comes from the activity of engaging your mind. A short walk just to think or sitting by the water always one of my favorite activities was sorely needed after being neglected.

Too often is technology used to alleviate boredom and to take away the awkwardness of certain situations we should be social in. For example, when I'm not too poor or when I decide to splurge a bit of money I go into Sydney to attend a pub crawl. I don't meet people in Brooklyn, many think me the kids mom weirdly enough and there to my knowledge aren't any people my own age that aren't bogans. So I go solo to the pub crawl get a drink at the first bar and immediately take out my iPod and fiddle with it pretending its a phone. I do this because of anxiety of talking to random strangers, so many of them I notice already out with friends or in a group chatting away and having what to me looks like the time of their lives. Now not quite sure where in my mind thinks the ipod angle will work in anyway... This is how I know it wont but somehow believe it will go.

"Oh hi there, excuse me saw you playing with your iPod. Oh wow are you playing Flappy Swim? yeah I missed out on Flappy Bird too. You seem really interesting sitting here by yourself awkwardly looking around can we be best friends and have awesome times crawling around these pubs? Great, come hang out with all these significantly more fun looking people over here and put that thing away till selfies seem like a good idea."

That's never happened, in fact being the akward one makes me meet weird people.

Time to put down the phones and iPads and stare at something worth looking at for a while.