I haven't forgotten you!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and all that good stuff! I am sorry, I've said it before, but it is much harder to blog when you have a travel companion! Claudia and I are having a wonderful adventure and we are sad that the end is in sight… We've left New Zealand behind us and we are happily nursing some hangovers and some sunburn in the beautiful country of Fiji.

New Zealand flashback: After the Catlins, we had a glorious three days off in Queenstown, which is a beautiful little city full of adventure. Unfortunately, we did not really partake in any of the adventures. We were so excited about having some time to ourselves that we just enjoyed the beautiful lake and spent time in the parks during the day and the bars at night. I was going to go skydiving but then I pussed out. Neither Claudia nor my new friend Edward would go with me and I think, in order to go skydiving, I need somebody to come along with me and push me out of the airplane… Its still on my 'to do' list so who's coming with me? I made a lovely British friend named Edward who has been traveling around the world for about seven months now. He spent a decent amount of time in South America and has been in New Zealand for about a month now. He's got a plane ticket that lasts for a year and I'm very jealous of all the traveling he has ahead of him! Hopefully, Greece will be added to his itinerary! Claudia, Edward and I bummed around for a few days until Claudia and I had to depart for Franz Josef where we had scheduled a glacier hike.

We didn't quite know what we had in store for us, but we were looking forward to getting to wear spikes on our boots! The hike was incredible! We had only signed up for a half-day excursion and we really wish that we had done a full day, because we were just getting into the heart of the glacier when we had to turn around… We were blessed with glorious weather, but it had been raining a lot the previous few days so the normal trails to the glacier were flooded. We got to hike on some crazy back-trails that involved ladders going up and over rocks and steep paths that had chains linked to the rock beside you so you hang on for dear life. We were given boots at the hiking center (my poor little feet are so small that I didn't fit into their smallest size and had to wear three pairs of wool socks to make up for the empty toe room) and a fanny-pack with crampons in it. Once we reached the base of the glacier, we were taught how to attach the crampons (think about the old-fashioned roller skates that you attached to your shoes but tons of crazy spikes instead of wheels) to the shoes and then headed up some icey stairs that had been carved into the glacier. Just stepping onto the ice was surreal… This giant chunk of ice lodged between two mountains and the farther and farther into the glacier you got, the more unreal the scenery became (that was an awkward sentence). We had to shimmy our way in between ice walls and through winding paths that led you up and up and up until there was nothing around you but ice and more ice. Mind you, the weather was so nice that we were wearing shorts and hiking in a valley of ice! Sadly, our hike ended sooner than we wanted to and we had to head back down the glacier. As we were shimmying our way back through the ice walls, Claudia somehow got her feet tangled up and fell forward onto her hands and knees (somehow she managed to miss sitting on her spiky shoes) and slid down until she got lodged between the walls. Precious sister laughed the whole way down, but was left in quite a precarious position when she finally came to a stop. She was literally stuck in between two ice walls and it took the woman in front of her and me from behind to help free her from between the walls… Aside from that minor mishap, the hike was incredible and the scenery was something that I'll never forget. I can't wait to upload the photos for all of you to see!

After our hike, we spent one more night in Franz Josef and then took a bus to Greymouth and from Greymouth took the most beautiful train ride to Christchurch. We rode through some of the most amazing scenery I've ever seen—mountains and valleys with rivers running through them that were the color blue that you only imagine in the Caribbean or Aegean Sea. Some of the scenery was so breath-taking that it was hard to believe it was real. This was a glorious way to end our stay in New Zealand.

 

Now we are happy in the Fiji sunshine, but I will have to wait until later to tell you about our adventures because I'm sick of writing…

 

Love to all!

A Slippery Slope

I may march to the beat of my own drum, but from here on out I will stick to the beaten path. What I'm trying to say is I HATE the literal act of trailblazing. Claudia and I just returned from a lovely stay with a wonderful couple in the Catlins, but it turns out doing conservation work is more up Claudia's alley than my own. Just as some people may not enjoy being thrust into the teacher's position in front of a classroom full of wee ones who do not speak your language with no lesson plan, I do not like being told to trek through the New Zealand bush with soggy feet and saw and have to make my own trail. Albeit, the bushwhacking was only one day out of six, but it was a miserable day. The Catlins is a beautiful basically uninhibited region of the south island that is unbelievably scenic with glorious beaches and lovely paths through some of the oldest surviving forests in the area (farmers have destroyed most of the old bush). I would compare the area to a summer in Maine. Unfortunately, we were not blessed with decent weather during our stay and went on a few soggy eco-tours, cleaned up and trimmed back a beautiful trail, did a lot of weeding, and counted penguins—all of which were fairly enjoyable, aside from the constant drizzle and occasional downpour. Sadly, the most memorable portion of the trip was trailblazing. We left early in the morning and had to follow some trail markers that a ranger had put up along a route that he wanted to actually become a path. Claudia and I were both equipped with belts that had shears in a sheath on one side and a saw in a sheath on the other. We were expected to clip back any plants in our way and saw down any trees or limbs that were too large to clip. Having had so much rain in the previous days and embarking into the bush with high grasses and other plants, my feet were soggy within the first thirty minutes. Within the hour I was walking in mini-marshes and this is when I decided I wasn't having very much fun. When we sat down for our lunch break, I realized just how wet and cold I was (did I mention it was FREEZING and we had both had to borrow long johns from the older woman we were staying with for the adventure?) and I decided not only was I not having fun, I wasn't enjoying any of it. Following lunch, we had to put back on our freezing and wet gloves and then started the ascent up the slimy, muddy, steep, steep path. The mud was so soggy that if there were no roots underfoot, the mud would just slide right down the hill bringing you with it. This is when I decided I was miserable. My arms stopped working so whenever I had to saw a branch it would take eons. The fact that the path was meant to become a path that rangers would use to set up traps to catch stoats and opossums (the opossums here are actually cute, not rat-like) to help save the rare yellowbird did nothing to encourage me. I would rather save the opossums and to hell with all their rare birds—they all look alike and you only get to look at them for three seconds before they fly away. I repeat, I only like freak birds like the emu, ostrich, kiwi and penguin. Oh, and the freaky extinct moa bird that is huge and pseudo-dinosaur-like (Hillary, you would love them…).  I also don't like hikes where you have to return on the same path that led you into the woods. What's the point? After four hours of trekking, we reached the point where the route stopped going uphill and started going downhill. Fergus, our main-man, asked if we were okay to go on, and I suggested a snack break. We sat and Fergus said that we would have to allow at least two hours to return and to me this meant that it was time to return. Six hours of unhappy hiking is enough for me. Once we finished our snack, Fergus said we'd carry on for another half hour or so before turning around. At this point, I thought I was going to start crying. I dropped the hint that I was losing feeling in my marsh feet and he said, "In that case, we'd better turn around." Thank god! I was trying hard to keep my bad mood to myself because I could tell that Claudia was actually enjoying herself, but I could not withhold the occasional "I hate this" whenever we made eye contact. The trip down was terrible on my crunchy knees and I fell about a million times, once landing completely on my back, causing Claudia and Fergus to stop to see if I was okay. All I could say is, "Just keep going," with no smile on my face. I was finally able to laugh at myself when I squatted down and surfed down the muddy slope on my feet for a good three yards or so. When we got back to the house I took a shower and climbed under my covers to thaw out for an hour or so until I could feel the warmth and a smile creeping through my veins. I went into the living and Claudia looked up at me, unsure of my mood and I said, "It turns out I HATE trailblazing," and we shared a good laugh.

I should not make this blog such a negative one, because we really did have a lovely time. The couple that we stayed with, Fergus and Mary, were wonderful former hippies who live in a tiny village where only twenty people live year-round, while others come to holiday in the summer. Again, very Maine-like. Fergus and Mary seem to do everything for the community as well as the environment. They have taken over maintaining many trails through the un-disturbed forests and in more than one place they have essentially saved a few colonies of yellow-eyed penguins. Mary was an unbelievable cook and provided delicious meals and even better desserts for us the entire time that we were there. Fergus knew the name of every bird, plant, shell and mammal in the area (I'm sure Mary did too, but she did not join us on any of our eco-adventures) and was very patient with Claudia and my way of laughing through any adventure. In addition to hosting conservation volunteers, they also rent out homes to eco-tourists and Fergus takes his guests out on many nature walks in the area. Claudia and I got to join in the walks, but were not entertained because the guests were oldies with canes. While they strolled along the beach looking at shells and rocks, Claudia and I stomped on crab shells and had battles with the giant seaweed that covered the beach. I would be interested to hear what the oldies thought of us—in one spot a man turned around and said, "Be careful here, there's a dead cow and he really stinks, I'd walk that way." My response was, "Claudia, go pose with the cow so I can take a picture!" I've gotten into the habit of taking pictures of dead animals, so beware of future photo albums. We also got to get super close to sea-lions dozing on the beach and actually got to crawl into penguin dens to check out their cute little chicks.

Oh, and we made a delightful artist friend. On our first day there, we went to check out a shop called The Lost Gypsy Gallery. The shop was actually set up in a sort of antique caravan turned into a store. The shop owner is named Blair and he specializes in creating automatons. Automatons are little trinkets that can be wound or twisted or pressed with the result of some funny or delightful action occurring. For example, there was one called "The Pleasant Nose Pincher" mounted on the wall. You twisted the handle and two hands clapped together at about nose level (above mine, but average nose level). There were many little ones that you twisted and it would allow little metal sea animals to move or flowers to bloom or walnuts to fly. Claudia and I spent hours wandering around the little shop pushing all the buttons, pressing all the levers and winding all the winders. We spent such a long amount of time there that the artist, Blair, finally offered us a beer. We accepted and joined him outside (where he was juggling hammers) to ask how he came up with his ideas and what his inspiration was. He said he liked collecting junk and all the automatons were made of recycled materials so that allowed him to make a career out of doing so. He told us that he had grown up vacationing in the Catlins and his grandfather had done much to encourage people to come see the beauty, including building a camp for students and a ropes course (what he called a confidence course). He said that he would show us the course if we had time. We opted out of joining the oldies on one of their afternoon hikes so that we could go on an adventure with Blair. The course was ridiculous and there were no safety clips or harnesses or helmets involved. Blair had been playing on the course since he was a child, so he made each challenge look like a cinch and then made us look like fools. I ended up being dragged through the mud by a rope after attempting to slide across a wire while holding onto said rope. Claudia was injured in the grand finally when we were told to swing on a rope into a giant rope spider web. All in all, this was a much better adventure than walking behind a woman with a cane on the beach. I also kind of fall in love (am intrigued by may be a more conservative way of putting it) with all artists, so I encouraged us spending as much time with the lost gypsy as possible.

So, despite the marsh feet, we did have a lovely time and hope that the rest of the trip will be just as wonderful.

 

Love in your face.

I Hate Dial-Up

*the title of this blog explains what I have been doing for the past hour... I typed the blog on Claudia's computer, thinking that I would at least be able to slip in one blog while in the Catlins, but this has been a nightmare. No more blogging/internet until we depart!*

Hello, hello. I’m finding it a lot more difficult to blog now that I have a travel companion… Claudia and I are having a wonderful time together—even when asked to dig for oil in the Australian outback!
It’s been a bit of a culture shock being thrust back into English speaking countries, but I guess I’m being eased back into the idea of returning home. Having spent so much time in Asia where the customs are so incredibly different, it was strange to arrive in Australia where most of the blokes actually speak my language—even if they do abbreviate every other word (my favorite is brekky for breakfast or mozzy for mosquito). At least we spent the majority of our time with Australian Aboriginals who had their own language, so I was still being introduced to a new culture. Now we are in New Zealand and we are back in familiar territory culture-wise, but I must admit this is one of the most beautiful countries I have yet to encounter. The rolling hills and greenery are amazing!
We have been in New Zealand now for a week and had many adventures along the way. We arrived in Auckland on the north island and had our first free day scheduled the next day. We made grand plans to do a little shopping and then check out the underground aquarium. Unfortunately, we both spent the day grogging about hung-over… The previous night we had a delightful dinner accompanied by two bottles of wine (not unusual for the Padens) and were looking for a bar to hit up as we made our way back to our hotel. We stumbled upon a group of native Hawaiians who were staying in our hotel (they were here doing a sort of learning exchange with the northern Maoris) and they were also looking for a place to get a drink. They suggested taking us to a casino and the combination of two bottles of wine and never having been to a casino before made it sound like a delightful idea. Claudia and I did little gambling, and the gambling we did do simply lost our new friends’ money. However we enjoyed the drinks and the laughs and our new found friends. I believe the night ended somewhere around 4am for us, which did not bode well for the next day… I guess one could argue it’s quite impressive that I’ve made it this far without taking a day off to shake off a hangover…
The following day was much more eventful. We were picked up early in the morning and driven a few hours south to Waitomo where we embarked on our “Black Abyss” adventure—Claudia and I had been looking forward to this from the moment we starting planning our trip. The adventure revolved around a glowworm cave. Glowworms! Little worms that glow in the dark! However, this was not just stumbling into a cave, taking a look at the glowworms and exiting. This was a full-on wear-a-harness adventure. We were decked out in the most ridiculous gear—wet suits, harnesses, gumboots and helmets that had little lights on the front. In order to enter the cave, we had to repel down through a tiny little hole in the ground to an unknown depth (thus the “Black Abyss”) and then we had to stumble along in the dark for a while until we came upon some crazy contraption. I was leading the way and our guide made us all turn out our lights and then fastened something to my harness and said, “Now jump!” She had attached me to a zip-line, which I zoomed down having no idea where I was headed or when it would stop—in the pitch black! Finally, we all had our turn traveling down the zip-line and were then all handed a big black inner tube. We were standing about thirty feet over the water at this time and they told us we had to jump into the water and land on our inner tubes. I have been cliff jumping, but never have I cliff jumped with a huge inner tube into freezing cold water in a dark cave. It hurts your bum! Our guide had to countdown more than once to get Claudia to jump. Finally, we were all in the freezing cold water and got to float through the cave with our lights off and enjoy the beautiful worms. Claudia and I are still arguing over whether their glow was blue or green—I say green. Apparently, the glow is actually their poop that is mixed with chemicals to attract other insects to them so they can eat them. They are also not worms, but maggots waiting to turn into flies that don’t have mouths so they die after three lovely days of flight and fornication. After a lovely bought of riding on our tubes we then had to swim through the freezing cold water and wiggle our way through tiny places to get to the larger maze-like part of the cave. Here we were able to get out of the water for a while and wiggle through other small places until we came upon some pretty large waterfalls. To get out of the cave we had to climb up the waterfalls! I thought it was a joke at first. It wasn’t. We managed to climb up two waterfalls that looked like you would die if you attempted to climb them (again, I was the first to attempt the endeavor) before there was a tiny sign of light. Finally, we emerged through a tiny hole and there was day again. We survived after five intense hours in a freezing black cave.
The day was not over yet! We then went to check into our hotel, which, again, was one of the things most looked forward to by both Claudia and myself. We stayed in a hotel room that was a replica of a hobbit home!!! It was built into the side of a hill and had round windows and a round door and was just wonderful. We were a bit disappointed by the fact that there was not any hobbit paraphernalia in the hotel room (I was hoping there would be costumes involved), but the hairy black pig that was grazing on our roof made up for it.
The following day we drove farther south to Roturua, stopping along the way to hike through The Bog of Eternal Stench. It was a bit of a rainy day, but we really wanted to see the bubbling mud and geysers, so we embarked on the journey regardless of the weather. I was smart enough to accept an umbrella before leaving—Claudia was not. We sloshed through the rain and were bowled over by the rotten egg smell of the sulfur caves and mud holes. There were beautiful colors in the ponds created by all of the different sediments deposited by the hot springs and they kind of settled around the springs in a rainbow fashion. Many of the bubbling springs were florescent yellowy-green from the sulfur. Finally, our favorite part was the many bubbling mud pit that showed us where the inspiration for The Bog of Eternal Stench (from the movie The Labyrinth for any freaks who haven’t seen it) came from. The mud literally pooted up and splattered all over the place and it was impossible to not hold your nose. Stink, stink, stink! After this hike, we stopped at one last mud pit where I did a little filming action on my new camera while soggy Claudia waited in the car.
We finally arrived at our hotel and barely had any time to dry off before we set off for our Maori dinner and show. We were treated to a traditional Maori ground cooked meal with a traditional dance show beforehand. After supper, we embarked on a little nature walk, which ended in a closed-in sanctuary where we got to see kiwi birds!! They are the funniest birds ever. They don’t even have wings! They’ve got a long skinny beak and hop around in a very odd way and they’re wonderful.
The next day simply involved a long transfer from the north island to the south island, which I won’t bore you with.
We spent one day in Dunedin and went on what we thought was going to be an animal tour, but ended up being more of a bird-watching tour, and that’s not our cup of tea—unless, of course, you’re speaking of emus, kiwis or penguins. The highlight of the early afternoon was when we were stuck in a bird-watching tower with a stuffy British guide looking at the giant albatross (they look just like seagulls) sitting on their eggs and hoping to catch a glimpse of an albatross in flight. While we were waiting, an albatross flew into sight and the stuffy British woman yelled “ALBATROSSSSSS!” at the top of her lungs, after having lectured us all on being quiet while in the observatory. Claudia and I did not care about the sighting so much as the ridiculously excited outburst from this old fart. If anyone was in my environmental science class in high school, think of Mr. McLean shouting “BAAALLLD EAAAGLLLLLE!” on the back fifteen, and you’ll understand how funny this was. After a long day of boring birds, we DID get to see penguins. The rare yellow-eyed penguin lives in New Zealand and we were taken on a tour through weird tunnels that have been created throughout a penguin colony to allow tourists to check out the penguins without actually invading their territory. They waddle!
In Dunedin, Claudia and I were staying in a hotel that was way too fancy for us (Prince Charles has stayed there before) and we drank too much wine with our stuffy supper both nights and tried so hard to get the young waiter to at least laugh at us while we dined to no avail.
Now we are in a cozy little village where only twenty people live doing some environmental volunteering, but I will wait until the experience is over to write about it.

Love to all!

Uncle Rossie's Mystery Tour

Hello internet world, Claudia here! This is my first blog post and I hope
I don't disappoint. I am in charge of telling you about our adventures in
Iga Warts and what adventures we had! If I could rename the place I think
"Crazy Farm" would be appropriate. Terry, later deemed Scary Terry, was
our main host with his wife Josie, who was not the nicest woman in the
world. When we first arrived Terry and the boys were not there so Anne
Meade and I got to chill out in our safari tent for a little bit, which
was surprisingly fancy and comfortable despite its name. When Terry
finally came to get us he said he would show us around the garden. Now, I
have to say the fact that he got lemon trees and vegetables and other
foreign plants to grow in the middle of the outback is pretty amazing but
the garden itself was a mess. There were plants everywhere, even in the
pathways. He showed us a section of three connected boxes that were
completely green with different weeds and plants that he told us he would
love for us to "turn-over" (which for all of you non-gardeners out there
is taking out everything and mixing the soil around). We asked him which
plants were the weeds, which looked an awful lot like his most prized
plant the Iga. As we walked around the garden Anne Meade and I were also
shocked by the whole horse leg bones with the hooves still attached and
the kangaroo legs with bits of fur still attached to them. After we left
the garden Terry took us into a shed where he dumped out three buckets of
miscellaneous parts and told us to look for the "connector" or the
"t-part" and other such terms that Anne Meade and I had never even heard
of before so this time consisted of us holding up random parts and Terry
muttering no and grabbing pieces off the ground or from our hands till he
found which pieces he was looking for. He then told us to put all the
parts back in the buckets and when we asked if he actually wanted us to
sort them out so they would be easier to find next time he replied, "No,
this is what I always do… I dump them out then make someone else pick them
up." Anne Meade and I could not even look at each other during this time
or we would start laughing at how absurd it was. I literally had to get up
and walk away a few times to stop myself from laughing in his face. That
night we sat down and had dinner with Terry and Josie and their daughter
Leah, her husband, and their two children. After dinner Josie grunted at
us that we needed to do all their dishes for them. Hmm… ok… Terry did not
give us a time to be up so being the Padens that we are we slept in till
around 10, which we thought was being considerate. Josie obviously didn't
as she took away the bread for breakfast as we were walking up to the
house and asked us if we had already been in the garden when obviously we
hadn't. We then trudged into the garden to "turn-over" the section Terry
told us about. This proved to be very VERY hard. The soil was incredibly
dry and each time we grabbed a weed it would just break off right at the
dirt, leaving the roots, which means it would just grow back. After an
hour and a half and a nasty blister on Anne Meade's hand later we were
done with the garden. We went to have lunch and Terry asked us if we
wanted to go on a drive with him and the boys after lunch, which we gladly
agreed to. We piled into the back of a truck with Uncle Rossie as the
drive, Terry in the front seat, and Phil and Andrew sitting in the back
with Anne Meade and me. Here is the time to mention that Uncle Rossie was
blind in one eye and that it remained closed most of the time. Obviously
we felt very safe as he drove us down a dirt road then into a creek bed,
the entire time the men kept saying, "We going on Uncle Rossie's mystery
tour". We stopped, got out of the car, were handed shovels, and started
walking through the bush where it had started raining. No one talked as we
walked, leaving Anne Meade and me giggling in the back saying we were
going on a treasure hunt, or they were going to make us dig our own graves
before killing us. Finally Anne Meade got up enough nerve to ask Terry
what we were doing and he replied, "We are looking for something Uncle
Rossie saw as a small boy that he has been talking about for years" then
walked away. Right. We actually were on a legitimate treasure hunt not to
mention Uncle Rossie was at least seventy! We got to another creek bed
where Uncle Rossie marked a spot on the ground and told us to start
digging. Anne Meade and I just sat there as we watched these men start
digging a hole. Terry kept asking, "Are you sure this is the spot" and
Uncle Rossie would reply, "Yes" until finally he started saying, "Well,
all of the creek beds look the same". Three holes that were about two and
half feet deep later and the men called it quits and we walked back to the
truck. Later we found out that we were actually digging for oil. Oil? In
the outback? Right… By the time we got back an actual tour group was
there, which was nice seeing that we had normal people to be around now.
Not so lucky… they were a mining group. Most of them were from all over
Australia, one girl was from Poland and one of the men was from New
Mexico. Most of them were boring, and the New Mexican was crazy telling
Anne Meade and me that he fought people often and wanted to run over
everyone in his mining group until there were tire marks all over them.
Great… Anne Meade and I avoided doing the dishes that night, instead
sweeping and mopping their entire building. The next morning we woke up
early to see more Aboriginal paintings where instead of listening to the
stories I mostly concentrated on not having flies fly up my nose and into
other orifices of my body. Came back, had lunch, then headed out again
where we visited the location of where the Aboriginal community had been
relocated by the missionaries back in the early 1900's. It was very sad to
hear how the white men just came in and decided they wanted the land for
grazing and kicked the Aboriginals off after they had been living there
for thousands of years, moving them to an area where each house was
crammed next to the other. The part that made it that much more real was
the ruins of houses we were looking at actually belonged to Phil's (who
was touring us around) grandparents and he had been directly affected by
the missionaries when they came in and started a school when he was young.
It was so crazy to think that this kind of cruelty and racism happened to
these men that were laughing and hanging out with us in such a relaxed
manner. We had dinner that night and this time really did avoid doing all
chores and instead got to go sit around a camp fire where Terry taught us
songs and Phil danced around with us. The next morning we had to wake up
even earlier and were taken to the ocre pits where the Aboriginals
gathered natural color from rocks to paint their bodies and walls with.
Phil painted us all up in white, yellow, and red paint, which was funny
and great. When we got back we said goodbye to the miners who were going
back to work and to Terry and Josie who were going to Josie's brother's
birthday. We relaxed until around two when I decided to go into town,
which was about an hour away, with the rest of the community to go see a
Christmas pageant. Anne Meade and I made friends with two young girls,
Tanisha (10) and Nikita (8) who were in pageant and wanted me to watch
them walk on stilts. Again, Uncle Rossie was the driver but this time he
was driving an entire bus with around fifteen Aboriginals and me in it.
When we arrived in town, Tanisha and Nikita grabbed my hands and started
pulling me around everywhere with them as they got ready to walk in the
pageant. When they were all set I went back up to hang out with the adults
who introduced me to about a million people who were all aunts, uncles,
sisters, brothers, cousins, and other family relations. I watched the
girls walk on their stilts in the pageant then got to meet more people and
drink beers and watch fireworks till around 11 at night when we piled back
into the bus and were driven home. The next morning Anne Meade and I were
picked up and driven back to Adelaide where I was happy to be back in
normal civilizations. So that is an account of our experience at Iga
Warta. It may seem like something out of a book but I promise you it is
all true. Crazy, but true.

Hayden and the Padens

Holy smokes! Claudia and I have just returned from quite the Outback adventure! We met up in Adelaide and had a lovely dinner at a Greek restaurant (I missed cheese so much!) and left early the next morning with Hayden, our aboriginal tour guide. Our first stop was at a camel farm where we embarked on a camel-back ride through a native pine forest. I spotted my first kangaroos and let out a yelp of excitement, Claudia simply shrugged. Turns out kangaroos are like deer in the wilderness over hear and they are a dime a dozen, though they never got less entertaining to watch hop away. We drove up into the outback and stayed two nights at a lovely eco-lodge outside of Wilpena. We spent the days bushwalking through the lovely mountain range, spotting crazy lizards, birds, kangaroos, emus and wallabies and hearing wonderful aboriginal stories explaining how the mountains and animals were created. We also had the wonderful opportunity to access aboriginal rock paintings and carvings that date back as far as 50,000 years ago, which is impossible for me to even fathom. It is quite sad because Hayden was only able to explain only the basic aspects of these painting sights despite the fact that they were painted by his own ancestors. The stories painted in these sights were only allowed to be known by initiated Aytanamatana people and the last initiated person died in 2003. They could not continue the initiation process because once the missionaries came in their people were punished for even speaking their native language. The terrible stories that we heard about the way the aboriginal people were treated by "white man" equate to the stories we may be lucky enough to read about in our history books regarding Native Americans, though these stories actually happened in our story tellers' lifetimes. The Australian Aboriginals did not receive equal rites here until 1967. This trip has made me question the enthusiasm that I expressed in regards to teaching English in Asia because so many bad things are associated with the English language and 'white man' entering into another populations' native land. This is something that I will have to think long and hard about before I set out to teach the rest of the world my native tongue… We had a really wonderful time with Hayden who was the perfect tour guide. He has led journalists from National Geographic on tours and has recently won a prize for having the best Aboriginal Tour company. Every afternoon he would pull out a table and chairs from the back of his car and set up a table in the middle of the outback for 'tea' where we would have the opportunity to sample native bush foods while sipping our tea or coffee. He had such a keen eye for wildlife and would actually grab the slower lizards that we encountered on the trail and allow us to hold and inspect them! Our last afternoon with him, we set up our tea in the late afternoon below a wall of rocks where a colony of yellow-footed rock wallabies are known to live. This is a variety of rock wallaby that was on the endangered species list just ten years ago. The people have managed to multiply the population of the animals by raising some in captivity and then breeding them with the wild wallabies and slowly reintroducing them back into the wild. While we sat under the rocks, we saw nearly fifty of the beautiful creatures emerge from within the rock wall and bounce their way down and across the way towards the nearby water hole. The kangaroos and wallabies hide in the shade all day long and only come out once the intense sun has resided to feed and drink—smart animals! Lord, this sun is intense—Claudia and I have acquired such a tan that you might not even call us pale any more! The outback is a very crazy place. Its strange how these animals only live in Australia. You are hiking along and a kangaroo hops out of the bush or as you drive emus race you on the road. Its getting late and I have yet to even touch on the most adventurous parts of our outback adventures… As soon as possible I will write again about "Uncle Rosco's Mystery Tour." 

Last Day in Thailand

* so sorry that it has taken so long to post... the computers in the outback have not allowed me to sign into the blog. i am on a sneak mission connecting claudia's computer to the computer in dude's office. have written one blog about last day in thailand on the computer which i will upload now and will write more tomorrow when we return to a real city*

*for some reason i could only get the blog to show up in the comment section. read the comment on this blog for actual blog...*

Fak you!

I will not write for long because I'm in a bad mood and nobody needs to read about that... I had a terrible experience at my hotel this morning after I complained about the fact that my phone was broken, the internet stopped working in the midst of my use, and my room was next to a construction sight that started working so early this morning. The manager was so rude to me that he made me cry and while I was crying he said "shat up, shat up" because I was drawing attention from other customers. When I couldn't take it any longer, I chose to check out of the hotel, despite the fact that they refused to give me a refund. As I walked out the door, the manager mockingly said, "Good luck, Annie" and then as I drove off in the taxi he shouted after me "fak you!" It was horrible. Then a lizard fell on me out of a tree and soon thereafter a huge green snake slithered in front of my path. I was also unable to go to the tsunami orphanage that I was so looking forward to because there is a chickenpox and mumps outbreak there and they don't want to take the risk of exposing me despite the fact that I had my mother contact my family doctor to ensure that I was up to date on all my vaccinations... I checked into a super cheap hotel/motel in town and the staff has already treated me better than they did at the "swanky" hotel that I was previously staying in. Note to all readers: when travelling to Thailand, NEVER stay at the Baan Krating Resort!!!

Khao Lak has done their best to defeat me, but I will not allow it. The dive company that I had arranged to go on a three day dive trip rejected me when I arrived to take my refresher course because I am on anxiety/depression medication. This was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. It took a lot of persuasion from many doctors to get me to go on meds, and it is simply because I have suffered from so many bizarre plights over the last seven years and need to allow my body to adjust to all the emotional distress I have been through. I'm not embarassed by the fact that I'm on meds, I've had some bad things happen to me and need some help getting through them. However--these medications are NOT debilitating. Nothing has ever stopped me from moving forward and on this trip alone I have had many experiences much more intense than a recreational dive trip. However, this experience set me back a day and I had to spend an entire day setting up my own dive trip through another company that turned out to be a German company, so I had an interesting three day trip with an unexpected language barrier. Fortunately, this was not a problem under the water.

I had not been diving in six years, and to be honest, this was the part of the trip that I was most concerned about. My father was my dive partner and it was very difficult for me to remove my gear from the bag that we shared, leaving his behind, and read all the wonderful things that my father had written in my dive log. However, I know that he would not want me to miss such a beautiful opportunity just because I have lost him, so I moved forward and planned on updating my license. The encounter with the first company almost threw me off, but I knew my father would never let something like that prohibit him from diving, so I didn't let it stop me either. I spent two nights aboard a boat in the Similan Islands and went on nine spectacular dives. I'm fairly certain this was the best diving I have ever done, though Belize may beg to differ. I saw so many spectacular things and had no problems with my goggles (in the past I have always had fog issues) and I even got to see a dozen or so nudibranchs (sea slugs) which are my favorite sea creatures ever, and, prior to this trip, I had only seen them in photographs and nature films. I can't even begin to list the many spectacular fish that I saw... I also saw a sea turtle, many stingrays, and so many different varieties of corals, anemones, and starfish. If I can keep my license up to date (have to dive at least once a year), I will invest in an underwater camera, because I would love to be able to share the things that I have seen with others. One German man took a photo of me under the water and has promised to email it to me when he returns home. If he follows through with said promise, look forward to a good laugh. Diving is a very meditative sport because you have to focus on your breathing and the only noise that you hear is your own breath and the only things that you see are beautiful wildlife that has not yet been tainted by humans (and other divers who look just as foolish as yourself in their dive gear). Fish and other sea creatures have not learned to be afraid of humans, so it is easy to find yourself in the middle of a school of hundreds of fish, or face to face with a sea turtle. Also, the way that all the creatures interact is just beautiful. The little nemo fish hide inside the anemones, the christmas tree worms hide inside the coral, the pipefish camoflage themselves by hovering just above fish of the same color so that their prey will not see them, and the stonefish and scorpionfish are almost impossible to see amongst the rocks that they hide in. The diving community is also a very nice one. Despite the language barrier, the other divers were very happy to see me diving again and not at all frustrated by being slowed down by some of the reminders that I needed. I do miss my dive partner and the way that his eyes would smile at me under the water, but I will always have those memories and he will be with me on every dive I go on in the future.

Apologies for the somewhat sad and bitter blog, but I don't know how to write without emotion. Two more days in Thailand and then I'm off to Australia to meet up with my sweet, sweet baby stista! So many adventures behind, and so many adventures ahead. Love to all of you who take the time to read the words that spill out of my fingers!

ps I have read over some of my previous entries and I apologize for the numerous spelling errors. I blame spellcheck for never letting me learn and then abandoning me in Asia!

* as you can see, the German gave me my photograph! I actually ran into him as I was going to supper and happened to be carrying my cds with me so that I might be able to upload more photos (check the photo link entry for another link...). Proof that I still dive!

Also in better mood!