Adventures Down Under

After 24 hours on planes, endless movies, 2 books, some late night noodles in Hong Kong, and the trial run of the neck pillow/eye mask motif, it was an absolute pleasure to see Joel, smiling with a new Aussie summertime tan at the gate in Melbourne. He whisked us off in the car through the golden rolling hills, scattered eucalyptus trees, and wildlife that surrounds Melbourne to arrive at his mom and step-father’s  place outside of town. Ray and Ruth pulled out the stops, welcoming us with scones, jam, and a much needed kick of caffeine so we could make it through the afternoon and evening before finally crashing. 

We’ve spent a bit of time exploring Ray and Ruth’s beautiful property and the surrounding area – we thought we’d share some of the images.

The view of the back acres of the property. We saw a few kangaroos hanging out in the shade of the trees in the long dry grass.

Ruth and Ray have put an extraordinary amount of effort into the property over the last 12 years and have created a picturesque ranch style home surrounded by blooming gardens and vibrantly coloured trees.

There are no native cats in Australia, which has led to a huge number of colourful native birds. These are a pair of Galah Parrots that hung around the property and squawked at us from time to time. A side note – galah is also an Aussie slang term that means a goofy person who laughs a lot. We ended up running into lots of wildlife in a short span.

Including the chickens (or chooks as the Aussies call them).

Sulphur-crested cockatoo.

And the king of the parrots we saw – the Crimson Rosella. Red breasted, deep blue wings, with orange piping across the black of its back.

There were also strikingly colored magpies.

Mr. Humbug, the resident cat.

Down the road a bit, there is an alpaca farm! They were freshly shorn and so perhaps a little embarrassed to have their picture taken.

And last but not least – kangaroos! Apparently a group of kangaroos (or roos as the Aussies call them) are called a mob of roos, which seems pretty fitting. There was a group of about ten on the back of the property one night. They are absolutely massive, the largest standing nearly as tall as a person, and two of them even had a little boxing match. As you can see, they cover a lot of ground with each stride.

Sarah and I took a long walk around the “block,” which turned out to be a lovely 6km (3.5 miles for the Statesiders out there) walk into the rolling hills to see some of the other local properties.

The deep green of the trees and fields of golden grass, smell of eucalyptus and dry grass, and even the feel of the heat, brought me right back to summers in California, spending long days wandering through the open spaces on my bike. Amazing to find the same feel all the way across the world and to see the differences as well.

And then of course there’s been the wonderful time spent with Tanja, Joel, Ruth, Ray, and Otto! The little man now has three words – mama, dada, and otto – the third of which he uses liberally and loudly. Love the teeth. 

We feel so lucky to have been able to start this journey here with Joel’s lovely family, in the company of good friends who have let us get our feet under us, taught us a few Aussie words, and showed us how they do things Down Under.

Next stop, downtown Melbourne!

Pulling it off

Here we are, both of us filled with nerves, having just had a lovely send-off of a day starting with a new years' brunch with dear Vancouver friends (yay Shaye, Jan, Alina, Amanda, Drew, and Eric), a calming tea with some more friends (yay Rob and Gloria), who incedentally took the keys to our car to babysit it for 5 months, and then a wonderful evening with our Vancouver family (sigh...Mom, Pete, Bubs, and Soph). Our bags are packed, clothes and contact lenses have been divided between the two bags in case one bag decides to stay behind, Steve has already practiced wearing the money/passport belt (which Bubs claims looks something like a beer belly), I'm dreading my final sleep with Helphy for a long time (for those unfamiliar with Helphy, she's my 29-year old stuffed animal who is staying behind in Vancouver), our quick-wicking plane clothing is sitting out for the morn, and now Steve's lying in bed trying to read himself into a deep sleep (of which he has been relatively unsuccessful as of late...you all remember that 3:45am blog last week, right?). Me? I'm just waiting for the sleeping pills to kick in and sure-as-hell hope for one final 8-hours before we take flight.

Our amazing send off from friends.

I'm feeling a bit numb at the moment, not yet filled with excitement, but instead finding some sort of a balance between utter fear of the unknown, complete disbelief that we've pulled this off, and chill acceptance of this MAJOR adventure we're about to embark on. I've packed plenty-a-suitcases in my day, but none have ever included such varied supplies - malaria pills, stuff sacks, 5 months worth of biodegradable laundry detergent, enzymes, etc. Admittedly, had I looked at the length of our (**now conmpletely crossed off**) to-do list 5 years ago when we "committed" to making this happen, I may have shrugged my shoulders and thought, "yeah right, like we could actually pull it off." But, by George, I think we've done it. As of 11:15am tomorrow morning, if you need us, we'll be at one international airport or another and every highway, backpackers route, or elephant ride in between.

With Mom and Bubbe and aaaaallll of our stuff...

Signing off for now at T minus 13.5 hours, from the quiet and familiarity of home, while on the brink of the unknown,

Happy 2011, all. So far so good.
Sarah

Panic Attack Number 1

Greetings from California, stop number one on the long journey of Steve and Sarah (and in this case Sophie). We've spent a wonderful holiday period with the fam and friends, both in Concord and in Napa, enjoying big meals, some fantastic wine, and our first experience of living out of the suitcase. 

However, you might ask, Steve, if you are having such a wonderful time, why are you up writing a blog post at 3:45am? Oh, I will tell you - I had my first panicked travel dream. To put this dream in context, I first have to explain that most of the dreams I remember are pretty exciting - car chases, secret agents, that sort of thing. These are fun dreams, where I know things will work out and I'm just along for the ride. 

Then, there are the panic dreams, which oddly enough, are the most mundane dreams I have. For instance tonight, I dreamt that it was late on the night before we were leaving for Australia and a bunch of people were over at the house, including Brianna, a friend from high school and her boyfriend who was making soup for us for the journey. I was desperately trying to make sure my pack was ready and that I'd have room for a big container of soup of all things but all anyone could talk about was the fact that Brianna's boyfriend's soup needed more veggies. So sure enough, I ended up on the road in the middle of the night, hours before departure, seeking a grocery store that would have garlic, tomatoes and lentils at 1am. The items left undone on the todo list were running through my head, mixed up with the ingredient list for the soup, and as the rain crashed down on the windshield I craned my neck to see if some Safeway would appear. I woke up in a cold sweat. And now I'm writing about it in hopes that others have had similar experiences with travel and might find some humor in the whole thing.

I imagine stress dreams are part of most travelers' experiences at some point in time or another, and while I hope this is not a common occurrence, after the busyness of the holidays it's not so bad to sit, sipping apple cider in the silent house while everyone is sleeping around me. 

By the way, the picture at the top of the post is of a waterfall that is a short walk up the road from my dad's place in Napa. A beautiful little calm spot. Back to bed for me, hopefully to find secret agent dreams and no more soup disasters. Happy holidays everyone.

One, Two, Three...JUMP!

We usually don't get to philosophical on this blog, but I hope on the eve of the journey you'll forgive a little verbal wandering. A screw up with the flights has Sarah departing with Zephyr in 7 hours (ug 6am flights) and me following a little while later with Flora. Crazy upheavel on the last night but I suppose that's how it goes. In the end the few hours till liftoff were chopped in half and now we're standing on the brink, which has me thinking of a few moments from the past.

I transferred to Wesleyan when I was a junior, and at age 20 made my way across the country in an old Volvo with two old friends to live on the East Coast for the first time. I expected to find red and gold trees, harbors, and ivy, and while I found the brick and the professors, I also found out the trees didn't turn colors till the fall and what you got instead at the end of the summer was hot, sticky humidity. The inside of my miniture brick-sided room heated up during the day to the point where I realizing sitting outside in the beating sun was cooler. But what you also have in New England is ponds. On the west coast, ponds are little mudholes that form in the hills when it rains and dry up soon after, but on the East Coast, they are entirely different creatures. They are small lakes, hidden in thick forests, bordered with beaten down granite cliffs. And they are also how college students coming back to campus escape the heat.

 I went to Miller's Pond for the first time in the middle of the night, when the heat had abated just enough for the breeze through the car window to be pleasent. We walked the half mile from the parking lot by the light of the moon through the trees and finally crept forward with our toes onto the edge of the cliff. It was impossible to see the water below us in the dark expanse, much less to know if the landing was clear to jump. I felt fear in my chest and thought about backing out, but the others around me (Pete H included) assured me it was alright, and in the end I leap out into the night. For an instant it felt like I wasn't falling at all, like there was nothing to hit, but then I splashed into the freezing water, heart pounding and cool for the first time in days.

It feels a ltitle like that now, standing on the edge of a journey where we have no idea what lies on the other side but knowing that if we take that leap we'll land somewhere amazing. It's frightening to be sure, but also envigorating. 

I've posted a few shots of the very clean and empty house to ground us during our travels, to remind us of the home we've left and have to look forward to on our return in June. 

Good night everyone, the 3am alarm is rapidly approaching, as is a very big day.

Malaria pills...check. Camera...check. Cat...cat?!?

A big welcome to those of you who are now receiving our updates via email and to all our patient readers who have been checking the blog on the web and waiting for us to stop talking about it and finally hit the road. The long wait is nearly over. After bittersweet goodbyes at our respective offices (Hey Arts Umbrella and BCCEWH folk!), Sarah and I have spent the weekend finalizing the lists, packing the house, and doing the first pack of the backpacks. And in less than four days, we'll be out of the house and living in our backpacks 'til June.

Here's a few shots of the fun mixed in with some thoughts about how we'll do the blog.

 Sarah, Zephyr, and the empty packs. They are so light all by themselves. Sigh.

There are lots of types of travel blogs. They run the gambit of styles, but tend to either be of the tedious-details ilk ("I just changed my socks!") or the infrequent but deeply reflective type ("I totally just reached a new plane of consciousness, man...."). We're going to try to shoot the gap between these two styles.

I won't bore you with the complete list of what goes into these bags, but here's a few highlights - malaria pills, universal adapter, sleeping bag liners (for those "budget" accommodations), and a sterilized needle pack. Zephyr is making a concerted bid to be included in the packing list.

So, by shooting the gap I mean we will do our best to not bore you with mundane details, but we'll also try to provide enough interesting details with enough frequency that you have somewhat of a feeling of climbing into our packs with Zephyr and coming along.

We'll see how far that yoga mat makes it...

The general idea is that every three days or so, we're going to pick the one event, experience, person, etc. that we found the most fascinating and we'll write a post about that. Pictures and potentially even videos will be included so you don't get dreadfully bored just listening to us jabber on.

The packs have been packed, and remarkably, are not back-breaking to wear. We'll see what happens after hiking a few miles though...

So that's the full scoop on the blog and our packing process. If we can't take you all along with us, we'll at least try to keep you in the loop.

Less than 4 days till liftoff!

To Map or to .map?

Well, our to-do list is to-doing itself these days with many to-dos crossed off every to-day. From the pick up of hypodermic needles at travel clinics to looking like goofs in MEC as we handle each pair of socks to see which ones are the lightest, every day, we're getting closer and closer to take off. As of next Thursday (eek!) we'll be out of our house, so our to-do focus has shifted to packing up the abode in anticipation of hitting the road.

With that packing in mind, allow me a moment to tell a little anecdote. I'm an atlas kinda gal. Sure maps.google.com can show you what your house looks like in every season, but I've always been a fan of picking up the heaviest book on the shelf and browsing. I attempted to do this this morning since I had a conversation with a dental hygenist yesterday who stumped me with her home country's location, alas, our atlas has been packed! Gosh darn us who are so damn on top of packing up! Google maps solved my problem (Sri Lanka is off the southern tip of India, folks), but I sure do wish I had the strength and space to bring an actual atlas with me instead of those nifty PDFs we've downloaded onto our ubersmall laptop. Or maybe we could just pack up this little girl and tote her along with us...

A White Thanksgiving - And Musings on Trying Not to Freak Out

Late last night, I touched down in Vancouver after four days in chilly (and very gray) Toronto. Sadly, conferencing and work kept me too busy to explore beyond a two block radius, so no fun Toronto post this time, but this morning I woke up to three revelations I wanted to share. 1) It's Thanksgiving. (very anticlimatic in Canada as Canadian Thanksgiving happens in October). 2) There are another three inches of fresh beautiful snow covering the skylight over our bed. 3) We leave Vancouver in exactly 4 weeks. (cue minor heart palpitations).


I'll tackle these in reverse order - with the first being perhaps the most emphatic. Holy crap. We leave in four weeks. We've been planning and thinking about this trip for 5 years and in 28 days, we are going to put on our backpacks and hit the road. The jobs end, new people come live in our house, the cats get an extended vacation in California, we give a final squeeze to our friends' beautiful babies who will likely be walking and talking by the time we get home, and all combined this is the recipe for fairly serious bouts of panic. And ecstatic joy. There haven't been any Sarah spontaneous tears yet, but oh boy, you know they're coming.

And amidst all of our planning, packing, and applying for VISAs, its been snowing all week. Having grown up in California, the only time I saw snow was on vacation around Lake Tahoe, so for me, snow signals that feeling of take-a-deep-breath, spend-an-extra-fifteen-minutes-in-bed, put-on-snow-boots-to-tackle-three-inches-of-snow-cause-it's-awesome kinda relaxation. I wake up smiling every time it snows in Vancouver, I can't help it, it just makes me feel like I'm going to head outside, build a snow cave, pelt my brothers with snowballs, and sled down the hill, even when all I'm doing is heading to the office. Fortunately it doesn't snow enough in Vancouver for me to have to grow to resent the sidewalk scraping, slow commute, and general disarray of snowy weather. I hope this feeling never wears off.

Finally the third revelation. It's suddenly Thanksgiving. It came without any fanfare here in Canada as it usually does, located in the lull between Canadian Thanksgiving in October and Christmas break. I'm attending an awards presentation and Sarah's working, so as of this morning we had no plans at all.

I have those types of Thanksgiving traditions that go along with a family that went through divorce when we were kids - some vaguer memories of Thanksgivings at home as kids, playing in the leaves in the front of the house in Walnut Creek, or maybe in the stream in the back of the property if it was flowing full of rainwater, then more distinct memories of the range of different family traditions we tried on in the years afterward, with a varying constellations of family members, special dishes, and different cities. Always fun and full of family love, which was the constant to accompany the flux of change. And then leaving home, going to college and later to New York, meeting Sarah, and eventually developing a holiday trade-off where Thanksgiving is with her family here in Vancouver (being celebrated next weekend), and Christmas is with mine. It's been wonderful to be able to spend time with both families at the holidays and try out new traditions with each (tofurkey was definitely a one-year experiment only, but Sarah was so excited to see that she now had a stocking over the mantle at both of my parents' places).

The holidays are a time of traditions and family and I  look forward seeing my Vancouver family tonight, and to calling my California family later to say Happy Thanksgiving and hopping on the plane in four weeks to see them for Christmas. And to return to tonight - deciding we couldn't just do nothing on Thanksgiving, Sarah and I are meeting up for a late night dinner at our favorite English pub around the corner from the house (Three Lions). There might not be turkey, but it will be warm, snow will be falling outside of the big windows, and we'll be together. Hard to ask for more than that.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone, I hope you have a wonderful one filled with food, family and friends (both new and old), and maybe even a little snow as well.

28 days till takeoff.