Petting a Roo'

While we were waiting for the bus downtown,

A Koala and I

Drinking on the Boat

Rather than take the bus home, we jumped

New Friends on the Boat

Drunk on the Train

Group Photo

Though my Republican friends swear up and down that medicine in a country with universal health care is slow and substandard, we were able to get him in to see a doctor at the Granite Belt Clinic immediately. The doctor’s opinion was that it was fractured, but she needed an x-ray to confirm, so John drove Matt to the local hospital, a few kilometers away for an x-ray. This is where things get weird.

The rest of us decided to hang out on a bench about 10 meters from the clinic’s front door while they were away getting an x-rays. Not ten minutes later, while trying to park in angle parking, an elderly woman drove up over the sidewalk and straight into the reception area of the clinic, nearly killing a man walking on the sidewalk. Apparently she hit the accelerator instead of the brake, as the wheels were still spinning on the sidewalk as she tried to burrow further into the building. Luckily the reception area was empty at the moment and no one was injured. Matt and John, with x-rays in hand, returned 30 minutes later (again proof of the perils of socialized medicine) to a clinic with a much larger front door. Rather than close down for the day, the doctor’s office kept right on accepting patients and the police and fire removed the woman from the vehicle and eventually the vehicle from the building. In retrospect, had she parked just six stalls down, she would have likely injured a large contingent of conservation volunteer workers.

The diagnosis on the arm wasn’t good; three breaks, one which has a one centimeter gap. Pins and a plate will be required and are scheduled to be put into place on Monday at a hospital in Brisbane. Luckily for Matt, he is a British citizen and the two countries have a reciprocal medical insurance agreement, so all his bills will be paid.

Our caravan of despair finally returned home around 4 pm to find that the other volunteers had ordered pizza, a welcomed indulgence after two weeks of camp food, which though very good, just isn’t the same as steaming hot delivery pizza. After unpacking and settling back into civilized life, Daniel and I headed down to the pub around 9 for a pint or two. Finnigan’s Chin is a decent looking Irish Pub, the closest one to our house. Being a Friday night we expected a good, young crowd, but were treated to anything but. The clientele was a mix of late teens misfits gathered around the pool table, some biker-trash older women and middle aged men, who judging by their dress, had been hear ever since the whistle blew at 5 pm. To make things even stranger, it was karaoke night, an invitation for people to show their absolute worst sides. A thin, androgynous being whose voice was slightly feminine murdered Billy Ray Cyrus’s Achy Breaky Heart. This was followed up by Dennis’s thrilling Beach Boys cover and topped off by a group of three mid 40s women ear-screaming rendition of that annoying song from Grease. It was right then and there that I had my first “What the fuck am I doing here moment” since being in Australia. Seriously, what was I doing here among these strange creatures 7000 miles from home listening to the most god awful singing of the worst songs ever written and paying $5 a pint for an Australian version of Guinness? Living, I guess. Just following some odd path I have unknowing laid for myself.

What I Learned Today: If one is banking on a long life, don’t sit or stand for very long on sidewalks in front of angle parking in cities where much of the population is over 80 and still driving.

written by  exumenius on November 2, 2007 from Brisbane, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Chilling at the Forge

The Hobbas handled most of the dinner prep so the afternoon was spent lazily playing cards and cleaning for our departure tomorrow. Borrowing a bike, we all got a chance to take a run down the mountain bike trail we had built…and a good ride it is.
The evening dinner was fantastic. An appetizer of Swedish Split pea soup and fresh rye bread, followed by a first course of a sweet Korean beef dish and rice. The main entrée was a lamb roast with potatoes, pumpkins and vegetables all cooked by their son Garth in the outdoor hearth. Ice cream with fresh fruit from the garden served as a desert for anyone who had room left in their stomachs. A great way to end two good weeks at the Hobbas.

What I Learned Today: The brakes on bikes over here are reversed: the front is on the right, the rear on the left. I nearly learned this the hard way while coming down a hill.

written by  exumenius on November 1, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Digging out Rocks with Jana

Next up, we headed east to the small collection pond along the driveway to remove small cypress trees which were clogging the shore. Root structures in the sandy soil are generally very weak, and trees up to about four inches in diameter were easily pulled out with a little effort and some mattock work.

Swimming in the Dam

What I Learned Today: I rather don’t mind living without a mirror.

written by  exumenius on October 31, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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The Granite Belt Vista

Having completed the fire break, once

Climbing Aussie Style

I spent the remainder of the afternoon and much of the evening reading a book –Party’s Over by Richard Heinberg -- that I borrowed from Jane. Although the peak oil and its inevitability was nothing new to me, the book does a great job of explaining the history of energy and the human species, as well as how the oil companies evolved to the point of controlling the country’s geo-political policies. Written prior to the Iraq War, the author predicts almost perfectly what Bush was going to do and explains why. Though my cynicism no longer allows me to be surprised by anything done in the name of politics, it was still, nonetheless, a bit disturbing. Heinberg concludes the book by explaining why we are in such trouble and what, if anything, can be done to help ease the pain of the end of cheap oil. An easy read in the sense of understanding and comprehension, but a difficult read because chances are he is right and we will all experience these momentous changes during our lifetimes and we(most of civilized society) simply are not ready for it; hence the party is nearly over.

What I Learned Today: A quote from Heinberg (about society’s reaction to the Peak Oil): “ Human beings thrive on hope. Without some sense that our individual deliberate effort brings us closer to a fulfillment of our personal goals, we simply cannot function from one day to the next. And yet, hope often betrays us, as it blinds us to clear and evident danger and leads us to courses of action and inaction that will eventually result in the loss of our property, our livelihood, our liberty, and even our very lives.

If optimists see the glass as half full and believe that things are good and getting better, they may conclude that there is little need to be concerned about the future and hence fail to take action. On the other hand, when pessimists see the glass as half empty and believe the world is going downhill and getting worse every day, they may conclude that there is nothing that can be done and also fail to take action. It is the realists who, seeing that society faces dire and increasing threat, recognize that there is much that can be done to mitigate the worst of the likely impacts and take informed action to make the best of the situation.”

I have been raised a stout realist in most respects of life. In matters of society and macro-level decisions making ability my education, job and experiences have led me down the path of a cynic firmly in the direction of absolute pessimism. Conversely, in the personal realm, I am adamantly committed to maintaining a positive outlook based primarily on reason and realistic personal observations of the world around me.

In this day when the mass media and religious and political demagogues spin a strange one-two punch of fear-based pessimism quickly countered with Panglossian optimism it is no surprise that reason and facts find no place in the decision making matrix. What we need is healthy dose of realism, a great big glass of objective thinking. It is true that realism doesn’t have the constant, gleeful child-like euphoria of optimism, nor the communal, misery-loves-company angst of the pessimist way of life, however, it just might offer the truth and the ability to think for yourself, to exercise your mind, to be the cerebral individual that we all want to believe we are.

written by  exumenius on October 30, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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The Boys Working Hard

Fixing the damaged track proved a bit more difficult. We had to dig several significant drainage channels and completely reroute the first 10 meters of track. The woo-boys were deepened and a few cubic yards of gravel were brought in to replace what had washed away and to bolster what remained. By the lunch our all the repair work was completed.

Hard at Work

The night was a typical night here a Dragonweyr. Eating as the sun goes down, followed by some cards at night and early to bed.

What I Learned Today: It has been a month now that I have been living out of bag and sleeping on strange couches, floors, and the occasional bed. Decisions become much simpler when you are on the road. Often, wardrobe is determined by what is clean or what is on top of your pack. What to eat is generally what is available, or what is cheapest. And what to do with your time is limited to what is immediately surrounding you…no tv, no internet (usually), just you and the world.

written by  exumenius on October 29, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Main Street Nimbin

I bypassed the group breakfast and headed to the Tribal Travel office to book my Fraser Island tour. They had a special including Fraser, the Whitsundays, and a Noosa Camping trip all for $300 up front, but I just didn’t have the time to fit in the two add-ons. I ended up getting the Fraser trip – three days, two nights on the island plus two free nights in Hervey Bay – for $155, plus an additional $80 later for fuel, food, and insurance.

The troupee rolled out of Bryon Bay around 11:30; destination Nimbin. A bit out of the way, Nimbin is a popular destination for the alternative crowd and curious daytrippers like us. The city, or community rather, began in the 60’s as a refuge for hippies and has continued to offer such a lifestyle right up until today. The physical setting is beautiful, tucked into a river valley with lush, green mountains on all sides. The city itself was a bit disappointing. One long street full of cafés, bookstores, and herbal bakeries with numerous strange characters selling pot on the streets.

After a half an hour of perusing the shops we hit the road for the long climb home. We unpacked and had a delicious dinner of beef casserole and rice. The sun dropped below the horizon and a terrific storm began to form in the northeast. Lightning like I have never seen before; not once every couple of second, or even every second, but literally non-stop for hours and it appeared to be moving ever so slowly directly toward us. The storm hit at about 1 am and continued for hours. I don’t think too many of us slept very well at all for being in tent during a massive thunderstorm is much like being directly outside in it, except for the water, of course.

What I Learned Today: Regardless of the cost of drinks or my overall level of thirst it never fails that I’ll manage to spend all the cash I have in my wallet when out at the bar. Since I cannot seem to break this habit, I am going to have to put a quota on how much cash I can carry with me, much like I do in Vegas.

written by  exumenius on October 28, 2007 from Nimbin, Australia
from the travel blog: Down Under trip Preparation
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Byron Point

We arrived in Byron Bay around the noon hour

Peering East

We spent the better part of the day just hanging out on the beach and jumping in and out of the surf. The waves break nicely here and the surfers were busy cutting up the rollers. There is a bit of rip tide here, though more horizontal than vertical. It is no wonder the size of Fraser Island considering the ample long shore drift that is prevalent here. In the afternoon we went for a walk down Jonson Street, the main drag. Good looking girls handing out flyers for everything under the sun man nearly every corner. We managed to pick up vouchers for free internet and for a $3 dinner. At the internet kiosk, which doubled as a travel agency, I found a few good deals on trips to Fraser Island, Noosa and the Whitsunday and will likely book one tomorrow.

The crew came back to the caravan park for a quick shower before dinner. Hanging around outside we fell into an impromptu game of football (soccer) against the girls rugby team that was staying next door. Though outnumbered and undersized we managed to squeak out a 2-1 victory on the strong goaltending of our team leader John.
It took awhile to find the $3 dinner place, however, upon arrival we found out that the only catch to the $3 deal was that we had to wait outside in line at 8 o’clock when the deal began. The joint, The Cheeky Monkey,

Drinks at the Cheeky Monkey

Daniel Winning some Beer

After leaving the bar we stopped for a dirty doner kebab and then jumped into a cab for the ride back to the caravan park. I ended the night with an empty wallet and a bed consisting of a floor mat and my sleeping bag.

What I Learned Today: The surfer lifestyle has been glamorized in Hollywood for over thirty years now as the perfect pursuit for those wild and young at heart. Though I will admit that surfing does have the luxury of beautiful scenery and good-looking men and women (at least in the movies), I don’t think it is more fulfilling than any other hobby or lifestyle one can choose to practice. What surfing does have going for it, however, is the passion of its members and the community they have formed. These, the passion and the community, are what truly draw people to the ideal of the surfer’s lifestyle. Most of us long for such passion but cannot seem to find it in our daily pursuits. Going to work, paying taxes, grocery shopping, a weekly basketball game, our favorite sitcom; these do not stir the hearts of men. The community aspect is just as, if not more, important than the passion. When people are entirely committed to something they need someone to share it with. In this respect, surfing benefits through the geographic concentration of it members, i.e. there are only a few spots in the world to properly surf year round. Other hobbies such as hiking, stamp collecting, gardening, and writing erotica, for example, can be done nearly anywhere and thus the members are spread out all over the face of the earth. The internet is bridging these gaps, but there is no substitute for sitting around a beach campfire with other surfers sipping beer and telling stories of ridiculous breakers and shark sightings.

written by  exumenius on October 27, 2007 from Byron Bay, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Pizza Night

By 8 pm the clouds had begun to break

Full Moon at Dragonweyr

What I Learned Today: The vast majority of us, myself included, are much more concerned about what fuel goes into our cars or what shampoo into our hair than what food we put into our bodies. I’ve always had the excuse of being too busy to concern myself with amateur dietenics, however, this is now fortunately no longer the case. The Omnivore’s Dilemma, which I read a few months back, got me to thinking more seriously about what I eat. Being out here amongst a cadre of vegetarians, hypoglycemics and otherwise food conscious people had again forced me to reevaluate my diet. As I’ve aged I’ve found that my mood swings have increased and I now think that my diet is likely to blame. It is funny that as you age things you used to think foolish endeavors you now realize have true substance, while other customs and concerns you grew up you now know to be entirely superfluous.

written by  exumenius on October 26, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Today we began work on the much larger trail connecting the Dragonweyr Reserve to its sister reserve to the south, owned by Adrian’s daughter and son-in-law, Jane and John. Trail work on this track would be much easier as stepping, woo-boys and granite are not required; a simple raking along with tree and stone removal would suffice. Daniel and I were tasked with large tree removal. Manning an ax and a saw we forged ahead of the group, sawing and hacking our way down the track. The rain last night had not helped our cutting efforts, as the wet wood tended to swell around the saw, constantly pinching us off. Nevertheless, by break we had progressed about 80% of the way down the track and returned to help the others with raking.

We knocked off work around 2pm, having nearly completed one half of the track (though some minor rock removal remains). Somehow, this job needs to last us through next week, so I imagine our days will only be getting shorter in order to properly pace ourselves. To pass some time, we made another journey into Stanthorpe in the afternoon. I was in search of a new book to read and a slingshot, neither of which were found. After returning to Dragonweyr, Matt and I went on a small bush walk, following the granite ridge in hopes of finding a high point for some nice view of the Main Range to the east. Loosely following some marked trails and partially forging our own, we located a few decent vistas, but nothing to take your breath away. On the bright side, I did come across a few great thinking rocks, large circular stones that appear entirely out of place in this landscape, as if they were dropped from the sky. It reminded me a bit of the Texas Canyon area in the Chiricahuas east of Tucson.

A delicious dinner of deviled sausages, steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes with garlic in our bellies, we retired to the porch for a game of eight-man British Shithead. This game has become quite popular in camp and doesn’t require a whole lot of skill. About nine o’clock the wind picked up and the storm that the forecaster had predicted for yesterday finally arrived tonight. Though being in a metal shed likely overestimated the true fury of the rain, it flat out came down, like it can only come down in a desert environment. Massive lighting strikes and flash flooding, a storm straight out of the Sonoran Desert. After about an hour of listening to it pound the roof and the ground, during a small respite, we made the mad dash to the tent and luckily found it nearly bone dry in our sleeping quarters. The roof had held, but the floor leaked in a bit of water from the rushing flash flooding on the ground. We were sleeping on two inch thick pads, so the bit of floor moisture wasn’t be a problem.

What I Learned Today: Food and manufactured goods are more expensive here in Australia than they are comparatively in the United States. This, however, is not a bad thing. A big portion of the reason is that the people employed in fruit picking, farming, and general labor and manufacturing jobs are paid better than they are in the US. Migrant farm workers –many of whom are foreign backpackers like me -- are paid between $15 and $20 an hour to pick peaches. To be a Marxist for a moment, capital exploits labor to much lesser extent in Australia. It appears as if the people here (simple farmers and small business owners) understand community level, demand side economics (now if only we could get our high and mighty Republican politicians to understand the same elementary concepts). I imagine this is an insight perhaps gained in part by their isolation both internationally and intranationally or maybe by the fact that the government does much less here to subsidize the cost of transportation (fuel) than we do in the States.

written by  exumenius on October 25, 2007 from Stanthorpe, Australia
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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