Fraser Island

So, we booked this pretty wicked sounding trip to Fraser Island. The Discovery Group. It was a bit expensive, but its quite near the top of ‘the list’ when everyone tells of the places that we have to see. Fraser Island, apparently, is the worlds largest sand island. They have fresh-water lakes, rainforest, and an incredible 75 mile long beach which also acts as the main road down the island. In the uniquely ‘creative’ Australian way, it’s called 75 Mile Beach.

We loaded into the 4WD (The Aussies say it ‘Four double-you dee’) tour bus called “The Warrior”, which was definitely the most bad-ass tour bus I have encountered.

Maheno Shipwreck

Wild Dingo

Fraser Island was pretty wicked that first day. We checked out the Maheno shipwreck, saw our first wild dingo, and enjoyed a few other local sights on the way up the island. On the north end of the island, there is a big overlooking rock called Indian Head, which we climbed and were promptly hit with panoramic views, including Humpback whales (no less than four) and dolphins (we first thought they may have been sharks) which you could see rounding up the schools of fish and pushing to the surface of the water, where they would “boil” on the top, before gobbling them up.

Indian Head

We headed back south, towards where we would sleep for the night. On the way we ran across a local aboriginal who was demonstrating some of their native words, and playing the didgeridoo. We also stopped at what is apparently the only shop on the island, so we could all get some refreshments for the evening. Being the only shop on a remote island in a remote island country, it was quite dumpy, and quite expensive. A liter of Jack Daniels was $69!! We found a reasonably priced bottle of Australian wine, and ran on our way.

 

It didn’t set a great expectation for what our accommodations for the night would be like, but we looked forward to our first Aussie Barbie! When we got to our lodgings, we were quite happily impressed! We had a huge apartment, which we shared with a girl named Kate from our tour bus. She turned out to be pretty nice, and we all had some wine then went down for dinner.

The BBQ was awesome, probably the best meal we will eat for quite some time! We all had a fun night chatting and learning about each others’ countries and ways of life, and the small stereotypes and idiosyncrasies that we run across travelling in Australia. All in all? It was an awesome first day of our tour, and we are very excited to see what happens tomorrow!

Down Under

After an extremely long trip to our new home, we are happy to be in Australia! I know Krissy has written about some of this, and as I write we have been here a few days, but here are a few of my first impressions.

I had heard in several places that we would find Australia similar to the warmer climate areas of the US, just 10-20 years in the past. How true this has proven to be!

Acid-washed cutoff shorts appear to be the height of fashion. While the cutoff part is quite short, sometimes strikingly so, and they often feature a plethora of holes, the waistband seems to sit comfortably somewhere about halfway between the belly-button and the chest.

Our first morning in the hostel, we woke early (Jet lag!) and went down stairs to find a group of people getting ready to go to work picking strawberries, which sounds back-breaking. Whose Line Is It Anyway? was playing on the TV in the common room, which seems to never turn off. I don’t think I had seen that show for 10 years or so!

It was around 6:30, and I went for a run having no idea where I was, or where I was going. I quickly found the beach, and a beautiful trail that runs alongside it. Plenty of people cycling, walking, running, paddling in the ocean, and even swimming! They had really cool areas you could stop off on your run to do some strength training. This seems to be a very active place!

The Aussies seem to be extremely friendly, and area always ready for a quick tease or light-hearted comment. I tried to find a pair of socks that wouldn’t stick out the top of my Vans. When I went into a store asking for them, the guy at the counter immediately laughed and said ‘Socks!? or do you mean sauks?’. Immediately picking up on my American accent.

I love it here. Much more to come!

Oh, this is where the sun lives!

Yoga on the beach!

Jet lag woke us up at 5:30am on Sunday - our first day in Australia. But we are excited and tired at the same time and not sure what to do about it except try some vegemite and explore Mooloolaba. We spread ourselves across all 30 sq feet of cell block 3 (our room at the hostel), already regretting how much crap we brought with us, and then took a shower that flooded the whole bathroom - although I suspect this is how they designed the bathroom.

In all seriousness, this is an amazing hostel and we're so happy to have chosen it as our first spot in Australia. There are tropical birds singing outside our window and palms swaying in the sea breeze. There's both a pool table and a swimming pool, a large friendly couch and an oversized picnic table where everyone congregates day and night to swap stories, and the friendliest staff ever who help us with EVERYTHING. So we were actually not adventurous enough to brave the vegemite, but that's only because - wonder of all wonders - there was peanut butter to use instead!!! We chilled out enjoying our free continental breakfast (tea and toast) and watched Whose Line Is It Anyway? with other jet lagged zombies awake at ungodly hours. Germany, Russia, Mexico, Britain and Ireland are all present and accounted for.

Chris relaxing on the Mooloolaba Esplanade,
near the "Loo With A View"

It's Sunday and we can't get to the bank, so we're left to survive with the cash we grabbed from the airport. We walk all over town, along the palm-lined boardwalk and up the beach. There are so many coffee shops...more than restaurants. All kinds of food, from sushi to Thai to fish n' chips. We head back to the hostel for our beach gear and walk two blocks back to the sand and surf for some time in the sun. The swim flags are up: yellow and red mean swimming is open. Surf craft to the left. Lifeguards mark every beach and there are signs everywhere informing you about proper surfing etiquette. There are surf boards to take at our hostel, but since my ankle still appears broken this will have to wait another week or two...or three, ugh!

The water is warm, the sand is warm, the sun is warm. Ahhhh. Yes, I could spend a long time here in Mooloolaba.

32 hours later..

Saturday, September 24

We have survived a three hour flight delay with a 7 hour layover at LAX, an aggressive pat-down in “the little room” off the side of security, and made it safely to Mooloolaba on roughly four hours of sleep in two days. We will likely drop into a coma for the next few days at our lovely hostel. All I will say about the little room, because I know you’re curious, is this: I honestly didn’t know what was going to happen when they closed the door and I found myself alone in a small room with two tough chicks in uniform and a table, but it worked out alright. It turns out there were in fact no explosives in my air cast. Backpacking with a broken ankle is already proving to be complicated in ways I didn’t foresee. I would now like to thank my wonderful husband for carrying my bags like a gentleman.

Well, I’m glad Chris was paying attention because I flat passed out on the shuttle ride from the airport to the hostel. Woke up lost in a puddle of drool – not cute. We arrived around 7pm on Saturday night, the lobby was filled with people watching the Rugby World Cup on the tele. Unfortunately we were only capable of dragging our two bulging suitcases and two larger-than-life backpacks up three flights of stairs and sleeping. Have to join the party tomorrow.

Jet lag is proving difficult to cope with, but I think a few days of rest and sunshine will be just what we need. Chris heard somewhere that the rule of thumb is one day of recovery for each hour of time difference. I really hope that’s false, otherwise we won’t be normal until October 11th! That’s right, the time difference is a whopping 17 hours!!! We are officially living in the future.

Mooloolaba Beach Backpackers

Is this money or swiss cheese?

Time is 12:35pm, Saturday September 24, Auckland // 

5:35pm, Friday, Seattle

Finally! We are across the world: in New Zealand. There are sheepskins, merino sweaters, and rugby shirts in almost every store at the airport. There are some expensive, exquisitely formed chocolates, which are hard to ignore. And a life-size fiberglass sheep bedecked as a rugby fan, even harder to ignore. The paper money has transparent ovular shapes that make it look like cheese. Although, the Taio Cruz tunes, Burger King, and clean-spoken English makes me feel like we haven’t really left the States.

The airport is beautiful, light and airy with lots of bamboo and glass. I read somewhere that the New Zealand airport was voted in the top ten in the world. As a designer, I am appreciating the icon-driven signage, which hasn’t managed to lead us astray, even in our zombie state. Chris is busy appreciating the modern couches, where all 6’3” of him can delight in stretching out after hours cramped in tiny coach seats. Enjoying a flat white, and then on to the last flight and Australia.

On the road for 27 hours, and counting.

One pump or two?

Thursday, September 22

Well, it’s the day before I leave for one year in Australia and I haven’t packed a thing yet. Then again, that’s how I expect much of this adventure to progress, with few preparations and much spontaneity. It seems more important to spend this precious time with family and friends. At worst, we can always just throw some clothes in a bag and hope for the best. It turns out that is exactly what happened.

After drinks with friends on Wednesday, we were too tired to do any packing and passed out instead. I woke up at 6am on Thursday to finish up my travel design portfolio, print a stack of resumes, and pack everything I might need to survive in Australia for 360 days and four seasons. At 10am, I still haven’t started packing, but all the clothes I own are in neat, tidy piles spread across my parent’s living room floor.

Thank god I already sorted through my shoes because, as a shoe girl, that is the hardest part about packing for this trip. Here’s the final head count:

one pair of cute Michael Kors strappy pumps

my favorite wedge sandals

one pair of ballet flats for waitressing

three pairs of staple flip flops

two pairs of trendy flat sandals

Not too bad, right? I honestly couldn’t survive with less. And I even forgot my espadrilles :p At literally the last minute (noon, when we were supposed to leave for the airport), everything was shoved into a backpacker pack and a medium-sized roller suitcase each, plus a big carry-on, and a prayer that our bags wouldn’t break the scales at the airport.

...and maybe some beer.

I love how she throws that in at the end there, as if it were an afterthought. "...and maybe some beer."

It really is a perfect analog for this whole hair-brained adventure we are going on.

Disclaimer: I happen to love beer.

Being from Seattle, that seems to be a requirement these days. If you don't have an almost somolier-like appreciation for the drink, you may as well be a social outcast. With world-class brewpubs just a short walk from anywhere, such as my personal favorite - Ballard's Jolly Roger Taproom at Maritime Pacific Brewery, it's understandable. There is however a beer lover, and then there is a beer lover.

When Krissy and I decided to take our first trip to Europe a few years ago, we talked about places we would like to see, things we would like to do, etc. My only requirement? Visit one of the great beer loving countries, and endeavour to truly find the roots of the amazing northwest microbrews that are commonplace in Seattle. To drink beer. Lots of it.

So we set off with just our backpacks, a couple of Eurail passes, and a great thirst. We hit Oktoberfest in Munich, and drank our way north to the tiny thatched-roof village of Vollerwiek, where Krissy's family is from.

We didn't spend nearly enough time in Germany, the requirement of having to be back home to our jobs and house forbade it. We loved seeing the country from the train, and while driving the Autobahn. We loved meeting people wherever we went, and drinking the local beers. Several times we found ourselves wondering where we would sleep that night, but in the end it all worked out. The memories will last forever.

Now we're going to Australia, and for this adventure, there's no job to get back to. Our house is happily leased out, and will take care of itself while we go to make a lifetime worth of memories. And while Australia may not be world-renowned for having great beer, we hear they drink what they have with zeal and an amazing outlook on life. We know the important things, that there will be great people, great weather, and great stories to tell later. The minor details like finding a place to live, a way to support ourselves, and enough freedom to go on great adventures, those we will have to throw in as an afterthought.

Restless in Seattle

Here we are, in our mid-twenties in the midst of a huge economic crisis and struggling to keep our fledgling careers moving forward. And Seattle decides to toss out the coldest, rainiest year we can remember. What's to be done? We're gettin' outta dodge and adding some adventure to our lives. Destination: Australia. Can we be more specific? Not really. We are flying into Brisbane, spending three days in lovely Mooloolaba, and then...who knows? For once, we have no plan. Being a perfectionist is exhausting, and I am happy to forgo that habit and embrace the unknown. There may not be clean clothes, dreamless sleep, or places to take a decent dump - but hey, this stuff builds character. 


We've officially begun our tour as nomads, having just moved out of our cozy, reliable existence in Kenmore. The house is rented for one year, which means we are homeless for now. Let the adventure begin. Thank you to our friends and family who have graciously accepted our decision to be irresponsible hippies for awhile and who have provided shelter, advice, and support. Yes, my dream of being a beach bum is on the horizon and I can't wait for our Endless Summer.