the great importance of napping

Alright, one more rag on staying in hostels. We're dying to tell you stories about all the people we've met and the experiences we've had living with total strangers...so maybe we'll change their names to preserve their reputation. So one of our favorite roomies is this surf god from Peru, we'll call him Eduardo. He braves the gnarly waves at Tallows Beach, where only the best surfers go. Chris and I jogged there the other day to check out the waves and fully expected to be stopped at the border - a speed hump right before the parking lot where a friendly Aussie has chalked "LOCALS ONLY," lest we try and surf their beach. Eduardo is the classic tough guy with accent and muscles to match his Spanish mafia swagger. One night over a bag of goon, we're all swapping horror stories of roommates past. Eduardo tells about this crazy Irish guy (why are they always Irish?) who wanders in drunk at 2 am and pees all over someone else's backpack. This is not a malicious act, but a simple case of mistaken toilet. Eduardo gives the Irishman a few words. Our two English roomies start joking about "having a wee" in awkward places, including one of their past roommates who didn't even make it past the bed. Eduardo provides us with some useful life advice in his best Spanish mafia accent: "If you wee in my bed, I will kill you." We all laugh, Eduardo doesn't. In all seriousness, he's a nice guy.

Our favorite story is about the spare room. All the eight bed dorms here have a private room attached, which is occasionally occupied by a couple who usually keep to themselves. Well, the other night there was a Welsh couple in there. No one had met them. At the usual hour of odd occurrences, 2am, we're standing around talking with our German roomies when the girl from the private room crashes through our sliding door, crying and shaking and fumbling with her keys. We all stop talking and watch awkwardly as she spends 30 seconds trying to get her door open. She slams it shut and starts screaming into her phone. Unfortunately, this is not entirely unusual...until she flings open the door and in the most dramatic fashion possible, throws a pile of condoms out the front door and goes raging back to her room. A little while later her guy gets home, sees the condoms on the ground and trudges to their car to set up camp. She throws him a blanket and all his things. It's clear he's been banished to sleep in the car. This was all quite amusing to the rest of us. Poor girl. We find out later from our roommate that they were all out dancing when the boyfriend, thinking his girl was in the bathroom, takes the opportunity to pat the tushie of another girl on the dance floor. Apparently this was the source of their argument, a tushie grab. All that was left of them the next morning was the pile of condoms.

I think we've mentioned before our favorite thing about this hostel is the beautiful pool. It's pretty customary to take one look at a hostel pool and think, "That's where chlamydia lives." But this pool is blue and clean and beautiful. And there's an outside bar. And there's a big screen where they host Dive-In Movies and sometimes rugby or surfing during dinner. We're still leery of their film selection, so far it's been Jaws, and Wolf Creek (stranded backpackers in remote Australia fall prey to a murderous bushman who offers to fix their car, based on a true story). We've also capitalized on their theme nights. Saturdays are limbo madness, Sunday Scattegories, and of course karaoke on Thursdays. These are fantastic because you're forced into teams of eight and wind up meeting new people and forming unlikely bonds with strangers in your joint efforts to impress the skeptical bartender/MC with witty alliterations. You will all be impressed to learn Chris is the latest victim of the bar's ploy to force otherwise shy backpackers to sing in an attempt to win free drinks. While he didn't win a free drink, he's now a karaoke star.

I love this sign outside our local pizza joint "The Byron Routine"- it encompasses most of our days. I am reminded that the title of my post was "The importance of napping." I suppose the stories leading up to this point do some of the leg work in explaining why napping is a critical part of a backpacker's day. Being a light sleeper and an anti-napper, this is difficult for me to embrace. But I'm happy to report I have two successful naps on record so far, and I plan to have many more. Here's a rundown of my weekend:

Friday
wake up at 9am
breakfast
read on the beach
fall asleep on the beach and sunburn my eyelids (who puts sunscreen there anyway?)
lunch
reading by the pool
cook dinner (a very peppery steak and garlic mashed potatoes)
poker and goon with our German roommates (using beercaps and filters because we had no chips)
drinks at the Beach Hotel, with live music and dancing
midnight excursion to the beach across the street
dancing with strangers on the street to live music
arrive home at 2am, talk with our German roommates
sleep at 3am

Saturday
wake up 10am
go running to Tallow Beach
breakfast (bagel and coffee)
shopping for surf boards
grocery shopping
nap time - 2pm
late lunch/dinner
hang with Canadians from next door
bartending at the Halloween Bash 10pm-3:30am
beers with coworkers after closing
sleep at 5am (Sunday)

Sunday
wake up at 8:30am - loud roommates checking out
jog to the lighthouse
free yoga at the lighthouse
nice American instructor gives me a free yoga mat!
swimming in the ocean with Austrian roommate and Canadian girl from next door
delicious pumpkin pancakes at Dip Coffee to celebrate my first shift
nap time - 2 pm
wake up 4:30pm, quick dinner
bartending at 5pm
catch up on serious sleep.

Finally, some routine!

Maybe not the kind we had anticipated, however...

You see, we didn't sleep much last night. Again.

It seems that there is a bit of a snowball affect in that regard when living in backpackers hostels, and here is how it goes down.

1. Significant amounts of drinking. (Usually not us.)
2. The stumble home, and arrival into the dorm.
3. Lights turn on, bags are shuffled through, people are loud.
4. Headphones go into the ears, and eventually, a bit more sleep.
(A very short time later)
5. Someone starts a loud, drunken snoring. This is often accompanied by sleep talking, mumbling, and/or moaning.
6. The entire room wakes up.
7. Someone finally has had enough, and mildly assaults the offender, loudly, and for quite some time. This may include shouting, shaking, tugging of sheets, flashing lights, etc.
8. Repeat from step 4.

Eventually morning rolls around, and there is a room full of people, very few of which had much sleep at all. At that point some breakfast gets eaten, and half of the room goes out surfing, only to return around lunchtime for an afternoon siesta, in a vain attempt to make up for the lack of sleep the previous night.

Repeat from step 1.

Seriously?

So, we love the hostel we are in! It is my second-favorite of those we have seen to date on our journey, but has some really great things going for it. Not the least of which is a very nice pool (hostel pools tend to be... sketchy) and tons of bean-bag chairs surrounding it, with a big outdoor movie screen. At least once a week they have a dive-in movie night. It's awesome! We thrown ourselves into a few beanbag chairs, wrap up in a blanket, and enjoy being outside under the palm trees and stars, while we watch a flick! Watching movies in-and-of itself is a bit of a rare treat, and the environment takes it over-the top!

As if all that weren't enough, they have an outdoor bar right there, with great deals on some local beers to enjoy while we watch! We have taken a liking to Byron Bay Premium Ale, the closest thing to a micro-brew I have yet encountered, and a truly tasty beer!

Now that all sounds pretty good, right?

Sadly, there is one critical flaw in this whole thing. The movie selection.

Last week, I managed to imbue Krissy with enough courage (liquid or otherwise) to watch Jaws (the original). In the end, it's so outdated that it was really at least as comical as it was frightening, but it does make you think while bobbing away in the waves on a surf board...

This week, however, was another story. The movie of choice? Wolf Creek. Look it up, seriously. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0416315/

It's the thrilling tale of stranded backpackers in remote Australia who fall prey to a murderous bushman who offers to fix their car, then takes them captive. And the topper? Based on a true story.

I know that I saw Endless Summer on that shelf, we may need to have a serious chat with someone.

Let's Get Down to Business

Life is good.

We are starting to feel like we live in Byron Bay, rather than it being a place we are visiting. That's a good thing since we'll be here for some time.

We spent quite a bit of time the first week or two here hitting the pavement and passing out resumes like they're going out of style. An effort which proved to initially be stressful and full of rejection. Since then I am happy to report, that I have successfully completed a job trial, and have work scheduled on Wednesday. Pending a successful day working with the owner, I will by Byron Bay's newest pizza chef! Krissy has also found success in her hunt, landing not one but two trials in the same day this last week. Also a rock star (who would have thought otherwise?) she has a firm job offer, which we expect to respond to today.

That also means that we need to find a real place to live here! We have gotten to know quite a few people in town, and will truly feel like locals when we are no longer in an 8-bed dorm in a hostel. It's also cheaper to rent a room in a house, but we will miss having a bar right outside our room, with fun music, a pool, and good beer!

Fortunately, as we made significant progress on our job hunt, we have been able to re-dedicate ourselves to surfing, swimming, and relaxing! We spent all last week with surfboard rentals, which was awesome. We were able to get to know various parts of the bay, and how the surf lies at different times of the day and on different tides. Our bodies also started becoming used to the surfboard, something we hadn't exactly anticipated being necessary. I certainly had anticipated needing to get my board-paddling muscles conditioned, but hadn't anticipated my chest, hips, and feet needing to become used to constant contact and battering from the board and waves. Krissy and I are both covered in a motley arrangement of scrapes and bruises.

Whew!

A few days of recovery, and we will need to decide whether we go for another long-term rental, or buy used boards from one of the many local shops. My vote is for buying boards, but, we'll have to see how that stacks up against the remains of our bank account.

Willabie, Wallaby, Wallace!

There are loads of fun/crazy things happening in Byron Bay. All the time. On a seemingly random Sunday night there might be a full moon party in which all the ladies get covered in paint (you know how hippies love the moon). There's a humongous hotel and restaurant next to the beach, aptly named the Beach Hotel, that has great live music every day AND every night. Just today there was yoga in the park this morning, and a protest against the use of coal in the afternoon. You never know what each day will bring, and I love that. You can walk the whole town in 30 minutes, and the beach is always close.

Cape Byron Lighthouse

Chris and I took a stroll along the boardwalk, and up a trail through the rainforest - which puts you at the Cape Byron Lighthouse. The trail is a narrow sandy thing, winding through the Cape Byron Headland Reserve, lined with palms and vines and sprinkled both with wild turkeys and a startling number of stairs. We hike up and up, Chris in front watching for snakes and me close behind trying to spot a wallaby in the bush. Once we reach the top, we're resting and catching our breath and there, right in front of me, is an adorable little Swamp Wallaby munching on some dry grass. I name him Wallace and watch with amusement as his little t-rex arms pull at the grass. Wallace looks a bit like a giant mouse, but I want to cuddle him all the same. Chris has to drag me off to continue on our journey.

Hang glider, not butterfly

A few minutes later we are running across a wide ridge with glorious views of the ocean on either side and the lighthouse rising straight in front. Suddenly, a shadow passes overhead and what, upon first impression, seems to be a large bird is actually a human hang gliding. We find ourselves next to the platform where they take off and presumably glide into happiness and freedom rather than tumble down the ravine to their death. We are already booking this experience in our heads for later. We can also see Tallow Beach from here, where all the expert surfers are cruising around like ants on a sand dune in a great expanse of desert. The ocean goes on and on and from up here the world actually does look round. Cape Byron is the Eastern-most point in Australia, which explains why there are so many whales migrating past this time of year. We literally can spot whales within ten minutes of watching the ocean, any time, any day. They frisk about and splash and blow water just off shore - it's truly amazing. You can even hear them. Once at the beach, we thought we heard cannon fire. Odd, I know, but that's what it sounded like. We looked up and realized it was the sound of the whales breaching and hitting the water on their way down.

Back to the lighthouse: it's white and beautiful. But I just hiked up a mountain and I am in dire need of refreshment. I indulge in the luxury of an ice coffee from the tiny cafe next to the lighthouse. She asks if I want cream, and I reply 'yes.' The barista fills my cup only a third of the way with coffee and then whips out an ice cream scoop. Things are about to get awesome. She scoops up some homemade Madagascar Vanilla ice cream and plops it into my cup on top of the coffee. Then she adds the cream - whipped cream - and tops it off with a hit of cocoa. Heaven, I've landed. This is a revelation in my coffee drinking experience.

On our way back down, we spot a crazy goat on a very steep and seemingly perilous cliffside. Happily dining on grass he was. We also discover a flock of lorikeets chatting away in a tree. I love days like this. I want to put Wallace in my pocket and take him home with me. Wallabies would be happy in Seattle, right?

Surfing with Huey: the Surf God

Surfing - finally! I've decided my ankle is well enough to brave the challenge. Yesterday, we signed up for a refresher surf lesson with Style Surf, as it's been a year since we learned to surf in Kauai; and, personally, I would like to know the rules of the ocean. Our instructor, a surf dude named Gaz who could well be Spicoli's second cousin, takes us to Clarkes Beach where the swells are small and forgiving. After a brief prayer to Huey the Surf God, Gaz goes over rip tides, ocean etiquette, and how Grandma mounts a board. Apparently we learn the cool way later. He shouts the stages of standing while we all lay face-down on our boards on the beach: "one, two, three four" and then it's "rock and roll" as you ride the wave in.  Chris and I have fortunately remembered what we learned and both stand up on the first wave. We start off on 10 footers but I'm rocking an 8' longboard by the end of the 3.5 hour lesson. By the end of the lesson we're both feeling a little cocky. Today, we mastered the ocean. I walk away thinking I will definitely be a surfer girl in no time. I'm living my dream right now.

Today, we scored some free surfboard hires from a local travel agency and took them out for a spin. We decide that with all the ease and grace we exhibited yesterday, we would try Main Beach and the bigger swells, even though we both have 8' boards today and had barely gotten accustomed to them at the end of our surf lesson. We spend a few minutes spotting landmarks on the beach and checking out the waves, plotting a course to enter the ocean. We run into the surf with excitement and anticipation of our first real wave. As I paddle out past the break I can definitely tell these waves are bigger. I try not to think too much and spot a goodie. I paddle as fast as I can, kicking my legs in alternation with my paddles as Gaz taught me, and spring onto the board once the nose rises out of the water. To my great surprise, I stand up and I'm surfing! I am giddy as I turn and race back into the waves for more.

Sadly, this is my only good ride all morning. Once I got back I tried to catch two more waves, leaned too far forward and executed a proper nose dive into the whitewash. A few more waves pummeled me in quick succession and I surface with nostrils full of salt. Not to be deterred, I paddle out past the break, exhausted and ready to sit and watch for awhile. A group of local guys are nearby and they catch every wave, making it look so easy. I wipe out a few more times, and now I'm just embarrassed because the locals are watching and I'm drunk paddling on my narrow 8' board and my hair is everywhere from all the waves I was recently buried beneath.  I'm too tired to paddle and Chris is equally frustrated from riding a board that is just too small for his stage. We both paddle to shore. I drag my board and myself to our towels, realizing the whole beach probably witnessed my failure with great amusement, and pass out face down on the sand. I now know what surfer hair really means.

Don't worry, no great loss here. We've simply discovered we can't be cocky and must return to the baby waves until we've truly mastered them. And the salt will leave our system soon, we hope. I am still super excited to surf again. Were thinking of renting boards for a week, so we can surf every day in succession and learn from our mistakes. I will get good at this.

Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore

Well...we kept hearing about this crazy hippie town called Nimbin, and it has to be seen to be believed. Naturally, we hopped a rainbow colored bus and joined Jim's Alternative Tours for the 45-minute jaunt to Nimbin. Jim looked the part in bare feet and a fifteen-year old tank top and may well may have spent the better part of his life in Nimbin. Our creative tour guide timed the entire tour to music (soundtrack available for only $10); from Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" when going through the Catholic town of Lismore to Australian singer Paul Kelly's "To Her Door" when passing by The Buttery. I love Australia - only here would a rehab center for alcoholics actually be called The Buttery. This is not a cute nickname, the place used to be a butter factory and retained it's cheeky namesake.



We passed through fields of Macadamia nut trees and Lemon Myrtle bushes - which smell like lemon tea heaven and resemble bay leaves. The actual town of Nimbin started in 1973 when the locals - a disgruntled group of dairy farmers hit hard by the recession - decided to host the Aquarius Festival. To their dismay, many of the festival-goers decided to stay and form communes in their search for the "alternative lifestyle."

Today, the town is a squat two blocks of rainbow-colored old Western style structures whose musty dark interiors stand in stark contrast to their brightly painted exteriors. Hippies line the streets doing seemingly nothing, and quite contentedly. We popped into a cafe for a coffee and, to my delight and surprise, it was the best cappuccino I ever consumed! Maybe I'm just deprived as coffee purchases ($6 and you think Starbucks is expensive?!) are a complete luxury for me now. The cafe patio faces the rainforest canopy and is quite beautiful.

After Nimbin, we all hopped onto the bus and made our way to a wicked local swimming hole. We hiked down a narrow goat trail to a waterfall surrounded by beautiful red rocks and a lagoon perfect for swimming. Jim jumped up to this huge rock and immediately takes a flying cannon ball into the lagoon. This reminds us of the cliff jumping at Lake Kachess back home so, once Jim surfaces unharmed, Chris and I both follow suit. The water is cold but refreshing. Most of the bus passengers watch from the rocks. Too cold for them. Back in the bus to a nearby park for a barbie lunch. Jim stopped the bus at the top of a hill and told a few tales, as he's prone to do from time to time, and then proceeded to scream down this roller coaster of a hill to the terrifying tune "One of these days" (again, Pink Floyd), just a get a rise out of the post-Nimbin crowd. This was immediately followed by a chorus of "No Worries" once we safely reached the hill's base. I think Jim may be a little crazy. All in all an interesting, sometimes terrifying, and often odd excursion.

Surf, Sand, and Sun!

We do realize it's been a while since we blogged... and I really don't feel at all guilty either!
So, here's what's up: Surf, Sand, and Sun!

We have had mixed feelings about Byron Bay, but for better or worse, its where we have decided to settle for now. That is of course, pending finding some work. We have been here for just over a week now, longer than we have stayed anywhere in Australia. Its a nice town, a bit over-loaded with hippies, but there are lots of shops, tons of restaurants, and beautiful outdoors areas. Whether its a nice patio at one of the many pubs, the beautiful beach itself, or taking a nice long hike through the rain forest up to the lighthouse, there is a ton of space to spend time outside, so we have!

Tallow Beach - experts only

We have been looking quite diligently for work, sadly, without much success. Krissy had picked up a shift our first day looking, but they texted us to cancel it the day before, stating they needed someone with direct barista experience. It was a bit of a hard blow, since we had been quite excited at least one of us could find work. We hear that Byron Bay has the highest unemployment rate in all of Australia.

Fortunately, we previously decided that we would put off our visit to Cairns and the Whitsunday Islands until we had done some work, rather that playing and travelling until we were flat-broke. Even so, we are quite aware of our dwindling cash supply, and so spend a good amount of time pounding the pavement looking for work. We moved out of Nomads Byron Bay, for a hostel that theoretically has a quieter atmosphere, Aquarius. They also have the added benefit of free dinner for everyone staying, so that saves on the food bill.

Fortunately, we are still finding time to take advantage of what is literally the one time in our lives we will be able to spend time in Australia like this, given that the visa we have is a one-time thing for Americans. The weather has been a bit spotty, flashes of rain, followed by wonderful periods of sun. We have found that in the spring you need to be a bit opportunistic, and take advantage of the nice weather when its around, and so have now been able to spend parts of several days at the beach, sunning, swimming, and surfing!

View from the lighthouse

On Thursday night, we decided to have a go at a local brewery, where "Cockatoo Paul" was playing. Not knowing what to expect, I had a band in mind, and Krissy a Cockatoo show! It turns out that Cockatoo Paul is a one-man band, and a pretty damn good one to boot! He plays drums and symbols with his feet, a guitar in his hands, a set of rattles/bells on his wrists, and a didgeridoo/singing with his mouth! Not only were the physics of this quite impressive, but the end result was some good music! The beer was also excellent, something that we were quite happy to find, having had a good amount of less-than-great beer.

In the future? Job hunting. I have to say, its quite frustrating given our hard work ethic, experience, careers, and general outlook, being turned down by every retail and food shop in town. I feel 15 again. (I'll update this post with pictures a bit later... I had some technical difficulties updating my iPhone to iOS 5, and am still recovering)

Byron Bay: Land of the Happy Hippie

This morning we left Noosa. We said goodbye to our new friends at Flashpackers and headed south to Byron Bay. We caught a Premier bus down, which took roughly 7 hours. It’s a nice way to see some of the surrounding countryside and some of the towns along the way. Although, travellers be warned, the winding roads are not so charming when sporting a hangover. In retrospect, celebrating our last night in Noosa with Tequila Thursday at KB’s may not have been a great idea.

We arrive in Byron around 5:30pm and are dying for food. We are greeted by a drum circle and dancing hippies. We thought Portland was full of hippies – no, they all reside here in Byron. If you’re not walking around barefoot you’re weird. Byron is adorable. It’s a foodie paradise, coffee abounds, and little surf shops dot every block. Organic is king here, so is hemp. Hemp sandals, hemp soap, hemp milk, hemp walls for construction – you name it.

We make our way two blocks and around the corner to Nomads. It's the closest to the beach, and right in the middle of town. We hear it's a good time. It’s new, but from the stains on the carpet you wouldn’t guess that to be true. This hostel is huge and already crawling with party people. We find out later that drinking actually starts around 1pm here, and doesn’t stop until 4-6 in the morning! We drag our suitcases up to the first floor, which is blocked by a swaying drunk with a staring problem. Past the group of twenties in the hallway to our first 10-bed dorm. Three words: dark, stinky, cramped. Note to self: never check in to a hostel on a Friday night. We figure once we have food, it’ll look a bit better…

SoulBowl potato bowls

The boardwalk has lots of great options, and we pick a cheapie with a very interesting new food concept – potato bowls. I try a Thai Time - similar to a Teriyaki Bowl, but with sweet potato, red curry sauce, bean shoots, baby spinach and chicken. Chris goes for a Spuddy Gonzales with chili bean sauce, red onion, corn, sour cream, avocado and jalapeno. Delicious. We want to open one of these, brilliant.

We cruise the beach, more hippes with a rager of a drum circle and dancing. Big sandy crescent shaped beach, with a cool shipwreck just offshore. There’s a lighthouse which we’re planning to hike to this weekend. We are nearly run over by a girl performing acrobatics on a skateboard, and then we have to dodge a mad flying fox – a hideous cat-sized bat with big ugly wings – ugh!

Back to the frat house, excuse me, hostel. The bathroom is a typical row of stalls, unisex of course, and full of informative posters urging you to get tested. The laundry room has a condom dispenser. The showers urge you to be green and save water by showering with a partner, and even their wifi is “safer than sex.” We are quickly learning the most important thing to have when traveling in Australia is a solid sense of humor.

At least it's well designed.

Wildlife in Noosa!

I, for one, absolutely love Noosa!

Krissy already mentioned our hostel, which is quite nice, and of course
our close-encounter with a koala, but that doesn't even begin to touch on what a place this is!

So, one small example, is when we watched the Aussie Rules Football game (Footy) at a local pub, and a handful of lorikeets descended on us and decided to watch the match! They are beautiful birds, and are everywhere here!

So, some friends we met here in Oz invited us to go for a hike with them yesterday, which we gladly accepted. There is a national park here in Noosa, and the hike runs through the park along the coast for roughly 6 kilometers up over some big bluffs looking out to sea, and past several beautiful beaches which are only accessible from the trail.

We spent the morning at the beach, which is becoming a very enjoyable habit, and then back to our room to change and left for the hike.

Not very far along we ran into a St. Andrews Cross spider, which having no idea at the time what it was, was a bit scary, but very cool! Not more than a few minutes later, we spied dolphins diving along the coastline. We watched for several minutes, marveling at the size, and how black they were! Previously we had only seen gray dolphins. Continuing along our hike we then saw humpback whales way out in the distance splashing away. We ended up at a high lookout, called Hell's Gates. This is due to a crack in the cliff-face, very sheer and deep, which the waves rush into and loudly smash against the rocks. It was pretty awesome.

  

We hiked back into town and caught wine and cheese night at the hostel, and then took a bunch of people from our hostel with us to a local bar called Sogo, where they had a deal going where you could get a free burger and fries if you bought a beer! We are quickly learning to find and take advantage of such deals which seem to spring up all over the place here, as there is such a culture of backpackers

Today, we again found ourselves on the beach. Shortly before we were ready to leave, we heard a big chorus of OOOOOOhhhhh's and AAAAAAhhhhhhh's from behind us. Looking out to sea we watched for five minutes while more whales put on an INCREDIBLE show! They were breaching full out of the water, glowing in the evenings setting sun, and generally splashing about.

As I write Krissy is in the kitchen happily making us some Indian food, and chatting with a group of people. Daily someone complains about/is jealous of how good the food we make smells! Plus, by shopping smart and cooking here, we are coming in at roughly half of what our food budget for the week is!

Noosa

Well, we have officially declared error in our packing - we have WAY too much stuff. A few other people in our hostel have been joking that they sent 80% of their stuff back home. We took a public bus up to Noosa and checked into our new home - Flashpackers. We have been using hostelworld.com to find our hostels, and this seems to be the best site, and we find most of the other backpackers use it, too. This place is like a hotel - it's so clean! The common areas are huge, the kitchen has everything you might need to create a gourmet meal, and there's a great pool for cooling off in the afternoons. No more private rooms for us, we are dorming to save dollars! In fact, most of the hostels allow you to work for accommodations. More on this when we actually try it.

It's a bit of a walk to the store when you have groceries, and also to the beach - but fortunately there's a free shuttle that leaves about every hour. The best part - free internet! We've been catching up on our posts. So far we've had roommates from Germany, the Netherlands, and our first fellow American. Surprisingly, there are not many Americans here, but lots of Canadians who are immediately insulted when you assume they're American. Sorry, Canada!

The jelly that stung me!

This week we're taking it easy, hitting the beach and hiking. We spent all day yesterday sunbathing at Main Beach. There was some sort of life saving contest and people were paddling out into the ocean left and right. The lifesaving programs are huge here, every big beach has a Surf Club, which serves as a lifesaving school, headquarters for the beach guards, as well as a restaurant, bar and night club. Awesome. We went for a swim and then hit Laguna Jack's to catch the Aussie Rules Football game. Corona and a hot dog for $10 - sweet! It was there that I started to feel a stinging sensation on my leg. It looked like a long scratch winding all the way down my leg. We realized it was a jelly sting and asked the waitress if there was any reason for us to be concerned. She said it was probably a Blue Bonnet and if it wasn't extremely painful then I would be okay. Damn all the jellies! Might take awhile for me to get back in the ocean :(

There's a koala in this tree!

Last night we decided to indulge in a party. We went to Nomads for dancing and met our Canadian friends from our Mooloolaba hostel. Nomads is surprisingly full of locals, and kids. The drinking age here is 18, and we're accustomed to 21 and over. You look next to you and see Australian Bieber dancing and think, how did he get here? The bar is dirty and crowded, but good fun. We walked to The Reef after Nomads closed out at midnight. After waiting in line we were forced to relocate as Chris' thongs were not allowed in the club (flip flops, not "thong" - Chris is still a guy). We charged over to The Rock down on Hastings St. On our way, we heard a rustling in the bushes, and I looked over expecting to see the common wild turkey. Instead, we saw a koala crawling on the ground! This was seriously exciting and we watched as it leapt onto a tree and clamored up until it was just over our heads. We then proceeded to blind the poor thing with all the photos we had to take of this rare sighting.

Once we hit the promenade, we pass by a 25-and-over nightclub and feel really old. We are definitely amongst the older of the backpacker crowd. Most of these guys are 18-23. The Rolling Rock has an older crowd (21-30), and is full of fancy lasers and techno pop music. We dance all night and head for the taxi line. Ten minutes later there are no taxis despite all the people, so we walk back to Flashpackers. Warning: Australia is warm during the day, but gets COLD at night! And it looks like my campus legs will be back in full swing by the end of the week. While tromping through Noosa Junction we met a group of young Aussies waiting for the bus (which was probably never going to show up). They heard us talking and the girl asks "Are you American?! That's so cool!" When her grungy friend learns Seattle is our home, he gets all excited and starts going on and on about Nirvana and do we like Kurt Cobain. He has no interest in Pearl Jam funnily enough. There's definitely a grunge thing going on in Australia, lots of black boots and plaid flannel shirts, acid washed cut-offs, and messy dyed hair. However, we are stoked that someone is excited we're American instead of feeling sorry for us and asking how we feel about Obama - the typical first question. Oh, America.

Australia Zoo - Crikey!

The Australia Zoo bus

 Our instinct was to make the zoo one of our first stops on this trip, simply because we're dying to see the local wildlife. Our hostel helped us book a shuttle and tickets to the zoo in Beerwah. We woke up early and hopped onto a giant yellow bus branded with Steve Irwin (his family first opened the zoo as a reptile park) and his signature "Crikey!" call. Our driver tells us all about the zoo and the Irwin family along the way. The zoo is also home to the Australia Zoo Wildlife Hospital, opened in honor of Steve's mom Lyn, who dreamed of a place where injured wildlife could be nursed to health and re-released. It's the largest of it's kind, caring for over 10,000 animals a year, and supported by the zoo and donations!

These must be the world's biggest Uggs!

One of our first events is feeding the elephants. I reach into a bucket and grab a piece of pineapple, then hold our my hand while Sabu gingerly slurps up the fruit. I find I've been holding my breath, because this beast, while friendly, is massive when you're standing next to it. Next, it's over to the Crocoseum for the Wildlife Warriors show. The Irwin family hosts this show, lead by Terri (Steve's wife) and accompanied by daughter Bindi, son Robert, and Steve's best friend Wes. I can't help feeling sad watching the family showing off their passion minus Steve, but at the same time I really admire that they can keep a brave face and continue their work.

This is a crazy show. Birds fly through the stadium, large snakes are paraded up the aisles (much to my dismay), and then there are the crocs. Huge, scaly, sneaky and terrifying. They wave around strips of raw meat to show off the croc's attack patterns. Yikes.

Now the real reason I wanted to go to the zoo is because I hear you can cuddle a koala. I wait in line to get my picture taken with Kramer, an eight-year-old male koala, so I can hold him for a few minutes. I ask if he's named after the Seinfeld character, and it turns out he has a brother named Cosmo. The trainer tells me how to place my hands and plops this sleepy furball into them, and the koala immediately wraps his arms around me. I am in love. It has big ears which the trainer has to move so they don't block my face when I look at the camera, too cute! The only problem is this koala stinks. I'm talking about a funk that stayed with me for the rest of the day - much like the B.B.O. mentioned in a certain Seinfeld episode.  Ironic.

My favorite part of the zoo was not even holding the koala, but feeding the roos. They have a huge fenced area where the roos roam free. A departing Aussie gives us the rest of his kangaroo food and we walk around finding nice roos to feed. They are the sweetest creatures, with long eyelashes and soft fur, and more personality than I could imagine.


I miss my kitties!!!

Lake McKenzie

This had to be the most restful sleep we've had on this trip so far. Awesome accommodations at the Sailfish on Fraser Island, in beautiful Happy Valley. We're told the owner makes a mean meat pie. We have a brief breakfast and hop back on the bus, which could easily be mistaken for a garbage truck if not for the branding. We're headed to Lake McKenzie today, probably the most visited attraction on the island. In aboriginal, the lake is known as boorangoora, meaning "healing waters." Maybe this is the cure for our jet lag...

First, we go for a stroll in the rainforest. There's a pristine creek, Wanggoolba Creek, that's so clear it looks like there's not even water in it, just a sandy bed. It's clean enough to drink, a challenge which Chris openly accepts. There are king ferns, fanned palms, and strangler figs which give the forest that jungle look. Our guide tells us about the "George of the Jungle" vines and how the rainforest is technically referred to as a vine forest. Chris' eyes light up and he immediately sources a good vine to climb.



The lake is lovely. Three shades of clearly defined blue, and only 30 meters at its deepest. Unfortunately the weather is not cooperating and only the brave jump into the water. The sand is so fine and white is resembles sugar.















Back on the bus, across the ferry - which we're told costs $100 to cross - and we're driving on the coastal highway (the beach) down Rainbow Beach. We stop for a snack and admire the sand cliffs, which have over 70 shades of red, orange and yellow. Children are dune boarding on the cliffs, and jeeps race across the sand. Did Chris mention how exciting/terrifying this is? The cars cruise by at 50mph, driving right next to the waves in the wet sand, where it's packed hard, dodging rogue waves and splashing across fresh water creeks that spill into the ocean. I can't get enough of it, honestly.