2010 Australia posts start here! (Re-entry)

I got back yesterday afternoon after living Sunday for pretty much two days. Got up on Sunday morning in Sydney, had breakfast and went to the airport. Left at 3:30 on Sunday afternoon for a 13-hour flight, got to LAX in the morning and it was Sunday again. Crossing the international dateline thing makes for weird Groundhog's Day experiences.

The weather here is classic winter Portland - raining and mid-forties. At least you can tell the days are getting longer, so I'm slightly less depressed by coming back.

What was my biggest impression of Australia? Of all the places you could go in the world, Australia is the most like the U.S. Even compared to Canada. The Canadians have a bit of an inferiority complex about the U.S. and, truth be told, Americans have a bit of superiority complex with Canada. We make fun of Canadian accents, while an Aussie lilt is decidely sexy.

Australia really is sort of our parallel universe in the Southern hemisphere. It sort of makes sense since both the U.S. and Australia began as British colonies. Both countries treated our native populations poorly, both revere the cowboy spirit, and Australians and Americans seem to be far more alike than they are different. We watched "Charlie and Boots," a newish Australian movie one night. It's the story of an adult man taking his aging father on a cross-country drive from Victoria to Cape York for the fishing trip they had always talked about, but never did. It was a sweet movie, but could just have easily been cast with a father/son pair in Wisconsin driving to the Florida Keys, or maybe Anchorage.

Australians were always friendly, whether it was the locals I met in Bateman's Bay or the transit guy helping Sarah and I figure out our ferry ride in Sydney. It doesn't hurt that both countries have a bit of a crush on the other. At the drunken costume party, I quickly got the nickname of "Miss U.S.A," and they didn't mean it all that sarcastically. (at least I'm pretty sure of that...)

It was truly an amazing trip, and not just because of visiting somewhere so far away. It was wonderful to reconnect with my dear friend Sarah. Growing up together, in some ways she's more like a sister to me than my own sisters who are six and nine years older than me. I am so grateful that the two of us were able to just hang out and enjoy each other's friendship. It would have been a very special trip even if it hadn't involved flying around the world.

I promise I will be back!

Hydrogenated happiness

Sarah and I went to the food court in the mall below our hotel to get breakfast on Sunday morning. After having french toast served with berries, maple syrup, and ice cream (??), we made our way toward the exit. On the way out, we passed "Sugar Fix," a store devoted to candy and junk food from the states that you can't get at regular stores in Australia.

Prominent displays? Reeses, Pop-tarts, Dr. Pepper, Captain Crunch, and ... Crisco. Why Crisco, you ask? For the non-bakers, there's not really an equivalent to replace the flakey hydrogenated fat goodness for pie crusts and cookies. Sarah brought home Lick 'em Stix, Junior Mints, and a can of Crisco.

Beautiful

I've always thought the Sydney Opera House was relatively cool. I mean, of COURSE it is. How could you not think that? Up close and personal? Yeah, it really is cool. I'm a fan.

(I think this is the best of the panorama shots yet.)

Heads up

You see these signs printed on the crosswalks at most big intersections in Sydney. It's sort of like they're saying, "Hey, foreigners! We know you love our fun country, but you're still not used to our wacky left-side driving, so be careful and don't get ran over! G'Day, mate!" Just in case you can't figure out "left" and "right," there's an arrow to help you out.

See, I'm not the only moron who can't cross the street.

Bright lights, big Sydney

Sarah and I went out last night. We went down to King's Wharf where there are lots of cool restaurants and bars and had dinner at Kobe Jones, a hip Japanese-style restaurant. Dinner was great and then we went in search of an age-appropriate club. We had asked the concierge at the hotel where would be a cool, yet OK spot for two 42 year olds. We aren't dead yet, but we didn't want to hang out with a bunch of kids. He sent us to Three Wise Monkeys. uhhh... not our spot. If I have to wait in line, I'm probably too old. It took us about 30 seconds to change plans.

We caught a cab and headed back up to the Royal Lounge which we had passed on our walk to the restaurant. Had a couple of drinks and pretty much people watched until an Irish guy Frank introduced himself. Very funny guy and he got us out on the dance floor a little bit. Good times for the old gals.

Headin' to town

Mummy Sarah is ready for vacation. We left Bateman's Bay on Thursday afternoon and cruised the three hours up the Prince's Highway to Sydney. Australians drive really fast on really curvy roads, and the word "highway" can be interpreted pretty loosely. There are not many proper freeways how we know them in the states. This drive felt like going through the Gorge at 75 on Interstate 84... if the interstate was a two line highway with the occasional passing lane and no proper center barrier. Somehow we managed to arrive safe and sound at Nook and Pete's boat at Ugly Tom's Marina in south Sydney.

Nook is a long-time friend of Sarah's and I met her 10 years ago when she was over for a visit to the states. She and her partner Pete live on a beautiful 65-foot boat (OK, officially that would be a yacht) that they are refinishing right now. It was a beautiful night and Nook made a delicious seafood stew. A couple of bottles of wine, some nice crusty bread, and we were in heaven.

Got up this morning and they drove us around to see some of the further out sites around Sydney. It was a great introduction to a little of Australia's history and I was able to get a feel for the lay of the land. We went to Bondi Beach (panorama) which is probably the most famous Beach near Sydney. It really is beautiful and the sand up here is more golden than further south. Had lunch at Watson's Bay which is at the south side of the entrance to Sydney Harbor (second panorama). Took a little walk which included a brief view of Lady Jane Beach which is Sydney's nude beach. Seemed to be all men... with very "complete" tans. NO. I didn't take pictures.

Everything's better with Y

Aussies like to add Y or IES onto the end of words. It makes everything seem a little more friendly and fun. For example:

If you're eating your brekky, you might look out the window and see the posty delivering the mail. He might be bringing prezzies or possibly an invite to a BBQ. Be sure to wear your sunnies when you take the dog for walkies. When you go to the BBQ, they might cook steaks on the barby and serve drinkies, but be sure to wear your trackies (sweat pants) so that you don't get eaten by the mozzies (mosquitos).

I'm serious. (And Burger King is "Hungry Jack's")

New zoo review

Forget koala bears. I want a wombat. They are possibly the cutest animal ever. Yesterday, Sarah and I went to Birdland Animal Park. It's a little zoo that only has native animals and it's about 10 minutes from Sarah's house. There's something sort of funny about the fact that we went on a day when her kids were in preschool. Forget them, we wanted to spend our own quality time petting animals. It also was the first day with milder temperatures, which usually means better animal viewing.

That's the funny thing about Birdland -- you actually can pet most of the animals and feed them. They have signs telling you that some of the animals will bite, but they sort of leave it up to you to not be a dumb ass. Stick your finger in Rocky the King Parrot's cage, and he might take it off. There are zoo keepers around, but they aren't monitoring your every move. That's one of the things that's refreshing about Australia: The country as a whole seems to place a little more responsibility on individuals to take care of themselves.

But back to Birdland. They have a big exhibit with kangaroos where you can go in with them. Very cool. Though if a kangaroo gets mad at you, it can grab you with its front paws and then kick you really hard with its hind legs, basically tearing out your insides. We stayed away from the grumbly one. A lot of the animals at the zoo have been rescued or found as babies. Apparently if you find a baby wombat or kangaroo, you're supposed to turn it into a rescue group, but no one really cares if you keep it either. A friend of Sarah's found a wombat and she's pretty sure it's one of the ones at Birdland now.

There are lots of birds at Birdland, but it's hard to get good bird photos. OK, it's hard for ME to get good bird photos. I'm still amazed at the really cool birds here. Parrots fly up to the bird feeder at home and I see cockatoos and galahs just flying around in the trees when I'm walking. Kookaberras make amazing jungle noises. I thought there were monkeys in the bush my first night here, but it was just the kookaberras.

Hang on, it's going to be a bumpy ride

This is a standard Australian sign for "curves ahead." Cracks me up!

A serious souvenir

This was a special trip for me. Sarah has bugged me for years to come over, but I always seem to have some sort of excuse. The primary reason? It just seemed like such a huge commitment to book a trip six to nine months in advance and to dedicate most of my year's vacation days to one trip. Then it was the fear that my journalist job could just spontaneously evaporate that meant I couldn't possibly schedule a trip to Australia. It was last summer that I heard something about cheap airfare on NPR, and it just seemed like it was now or never. I got online and booked a ticket. Apparently $1,300 is cheap. (Ultimately it ended up being about $1,550 because of my "economy plus" upgrades, but those were deemed necessary for survival on a 14-hour plane flight.)

So at 42, I finally took my first real trip involving a passport to see my friend of 36 years who is living in another hemisphere. This was important. So what do you do when the usual touristy souvenirs just seem a little silly and insubstantial? Forget jewelry. Get a tattoo!

On a local's recommendation, I went to Free Spirt Tattoos in Surfside last Thursday to check out the options. Apparently Jason and David are well sought after in the area and I was lucky I knew a local, because David basically made room for me on his schedule by staying late Tuesday. This left me a long weekend to become completely obsessive about what to get permanently inked on my body. After my initial look through at the tattoo shop, I was pretty sure I wanted a dolphin. Not a cutsy cartoon dolphin, or some weird dolphin jumping through a heart with a dagger (yes, they had that), but a "meaningful" dolphin. What that was? I wasn't sure. I was becoming my own worst art directing customer.

Thank god for the Internet. I spent several days going to tattoo sites looking for just the right dolphin. I e-mailed a few designs to friends. Two different times I thought I had "the one," but when I thought about it on my leg for the next 40 years, neither seemed quite right. (Why does this sound like my dating life?) One friend suggested I try to find a cool piece of Australian aboriginal art, though he thought a lizard would be cool. I told him he could get his own damn lizard, but the aboriginal idea was a good one.

I eventually found a print online that had a bunch of different aboriginal design animals, including a really cool dolphin. I stuck with the dolphin idea because they symbolize intelligence, friendship and new beginnings, which all seemed like cool things. I also saw dolphins twice on my morning visits to the beach (once FREAKING because I thought they were sharks at first). I also like the aboriginal design because of the tribal feel without being too manly and the design could be colorful without having a dumb sunset in the background.

I had thought about having it put on my hip or some other "hidden" place, but then I realized: forget other people, I wanted to see it all the time. I decided the inside of my right ankle was a good spot.


Last night Sarah dropped me off at 6, but she had to get back to feed the kids. Belinda (a local friend) met me there just for fun. Apparently it's "fun" for tattoo veterans to come watch a newbie get one. Hey, it was nice to have the company. David was able to translate my design into something tattoo friendly. The actual tattoo process probably only took about 45 minutes. He did the black outline first and then filled in the color. Did it hurt? Yeah. Horribly? Not so much, but I was glad it wasn't bigger and happy it wasn't in a more tender spot.



For those of you not familiar with tattoos (hi mom), once it's officially healed in a week or two, it won't be quite so bright and the yellow parts will look more yellow. In this photo, they look a little orange because... well... the blood was seeping through and making the yellow look orange. (I don't know why my leg looks so spotty in this photo. weird!)

Update on Little Bear

Little Bear, the blue heeler who was bitten by the snake on Saturday, is doing great and seems to have made a full recovery. She went for a walk with me yesterday morning, but we made it a short one.

Water baby

It was an amazingly nice day today. Sarah and I took the kids to Wimbie Beach (about a half-mile from their house) in the morning. The beaches were a little more quiet than they were last week. Most people are back to work after the Christmas holidays, but kids don't go back to school until the second week of February. That's when they start a new grade.

Tried out the new panoramic feature on the camera. It helps you line up each shot and then a program stiches the whole thing together. Pretty cool.

Little House in the Outback

Electricity isn't cheap in Australia. That's the main reason most people use clotheslines to dry their wash -- especially in the summer when everything dries in a couple of hours. I'm getting pretty good at hanging laundry (Though there's something really funny about lacy underwear hanging on a clothesline). Rounding out my country-fied experience? The chickens.

Sarah has a variety of regular "chooks" (what we would call a chicken) and some special "silkies." The silkies look like Dr. Seuss characters with poofs on their heads and feathers all the way down their legs. I'm partial to Foghorn. He's the big white and black traditional rooster. I am not a fan of Foghorn's early morning cock-a-doodle-dos, but after more than a week, I hardly notice.

All the world's a stage

Here's something you didn't know about Australians: They love costume parties. We got invited to Ben's birthday party last night. Ben is Dutchy's 25-year-old electrician's apprentice. He's not nerdy, but he had a "come as your favorite book character" birthday party. That's not normal (at least for a 25-year-old American male), but apparently is quite all right by Aussie standards.

I thought about making something, but I'm non vacation, so screw costume making. Sarah and I went to the local theatre's costume shop and put together a Scarlett O'Hara ensemble for $20. We thought we could get Dutchy to wear a poncho and sambrero, but we're not really sure what book character he is. Doesn't matter. Sarah's reading another Patricia Cornwall "Scarpetta" book, so she borrowed a doctor friend's scrubs.

The party was at a cute little restaurant/club in downtown Bateman's Bay. The band was set up... in the kitchen. You could only see them through the chic little slit in the restaurant wall, which cracked me up. "Book character" seemed to be interpreted rather loosely, but everyone pretty much came in costume. Princess Lea's wig got passed around. That's the birthday boy in the orange Hawaiian shirt wearing it for a while. Scarlett was a hit, but I eventually had to do a costume change. It was hot and crinolines make me sweaty.

Land of Poison - and I don't mean Bret Michaels

Living in Western Oregon, you get used to the idea that there's not much out in nature that's going to kill you (other than your own stupidity, of course). Australia, on the other hand, is a pretty deadly place. If it can sting, strike or bite you, it probably lives here... with a lot of its friends.

Since I've been walking all over, Sarah warned me to watch for snakes. It's basically the same as living in the South. You don't hike through tall grass or open up dark sheds without keeping your eyes open for reptiles, but it's still surprising when a snake actually bites someone or something you know. Yesterday, I was taking a nap in my little flat when Sarah yelled for me. Little Bear (their blue heeler) was in medical distress. Dutchy, Sarah and the kids had been swimming in the pool and the dog was playing there also. All of a sudden, Little Bear was vomiting, having difficulty breathing and couldn't stand up properly. Sarah called the vet and they rushed off to the clinic. I stayed and took care of the kids (a nightmare of a different sort, but I survived).

At first the vet thought it could be a paralysis tick (had no idea there was such a thing), but because of the quick onset of symptoms, it had to be a snake bite. (Time to point out that the dog had been playing about eight feet from the lounge chair where I had been sprawled for most of the morning.) After $2,000 worth of anti-venom, Little Bear was still critical last night, but stable. She's doing much better this morning and probably will get to come home this afternoon.

When a bird rustled leaves this morning on my walk, I almost jumped out of my skin. I am now on hyper snake alert.

Beyond Thunderdome

It feels weird not to drive. But in a good way. I'm finally starting to get used to the whole drive on the wrong side of the road thing, but it still catches me by surprise once in a while. Crossing the street is far more difficult than you would think it would be. It's just so programmed into our brains of where the cars are supposed to be coming from, that I have to think really hard so I don't walk into traffic. (OK, maybe it's just me.)

People drive FAST. They also have a lot of yield signs where we would have stop signs. Seems to keep traffic moving along better.

Most of the cars look like cars we have in the states, except Holden is a big brand over here. Otherwise, it's Fords, Toyotas, Kias, Nissans, Beemers, etc. What you don't see much of are big trucks and big SUVs. People drive smaller trucks and they have "utes" (top photo) -- that's short for "utility vehicle." Think El Camino. Most of the trucks and smaller SUVs have "bull bars" (also known as " 'roo bars") to protect the front of car if you run into a kangaroo. A lot of them also are equipped with snorkels -- air systems that run up the side of the car allowing you to drive through really high water without damaging the engine. Throw in some serious lights and everything starts to look like something out of Mad Max. Makes me want to put on a horned hat and ride around on top of Dutchy's truck (second photo) like Tina Turner.

Navigational error

I've been taking big walks in the morning. It's a great way to see the area, and it helps work off a little of the vacation eating I've been doing. I already have my standard route that's about 4.5 miles, with minor variations on whether I swing by a beach or maybe stop at the store. This morning I decided to go a different loop.

Somehow, I missed the turn. Gee, maybe it's because the road was GRAVEL and because Australians only put the names on sideroads. So if you're on a sideroad already, when you roll up to an intersection with a "main road," there won't be a sign for the main road. Maybe it makes sense if you start on main roads, but I'm not, so it's confusing as hell sometimes. And in this case, the main road didn't look very main road-ish. Whatever. I missed the damn turn.

I knew the road I was on would eventually come out on Beach Road, so I wasn't too concerned. At least until I had been walking briskly for an hour and half. I eventually hit Beach Road... about 3.5 miles south of where I thought I would hit it. I inadvertantly walked 8.5 MILES this morning -- up and down big hills. Poor Little Bear (the canine victim of my error). She is going to hide when she hears me coming to get her tomorrow!

Australia, I KNEW we were meant to be...

What do Australians have that we don't?? (Besides Vegemite and kangaroos...)

They have proper cocktails in cans and little bottles! You can get a six-pack of vodka sodas or gin and tonics! Why don't we have that? They are mixed to a standard alcohol level (4.5 percent), so it's not like it's higher alcohol content than a crappy American wine cooler or some other beverage concocted of Kool-Aid and malt liquor.

They aren't cheap, but they are tasty and oh so convenient for boats, beaches and all sorts of summer fun... particularly since I'm not driving one bit.

The Boat of Doom

It's all fun and games until someone needs stiches. Yesterday we went with Sarah's two sisters-in-law, Bernadette and Elise, out on the Clyde River in Matthew's boat. (Matthew is Bernadette's partner.) The day was a little bit of a mess getting two small children packed for a day at the river, but we finally got to our rendezvous spot and Matthew picked us up.

We cruised upriver looking for a place to set up our picnic and call home base for the rest of the day. There were a lot of boats on the river with skiers and wakeboarders, so when we finally found a spot at "glass beach," we thought we should grab it. Glass beach is aptly named. As Matthew was standing in the knee-deep water to help unload coolers and blankets, he stepped on a broken bottle and sliced a 2-inch gash into the ball of his left foot. It was one of those cuts where you immediately know a trip to the hospital is going to be involved.

We drug out the ancient first aid kit, dumped some iodine on the cut, wrapped it up and headed back to the boat ramp. After discussing logistics and a meltdown from the 2-year-old, we regrouped at the beach by the caravan park (campground - think KOA in this case) and hung out in the sun while Matthew and Bernie went to the hospital. Universal health care is not necessarily speedy health care, so it was several hourse before they returned.

When they finally got to the beach, I went out with Matthew and their friend Jim for a ski. Friends know that I don't actually ever ski, but I'm a great spotter (they don't carry flags in the boat in Australia, so I felt like a cop without a gun. very sad.) On his first run, Jim managed to pull his left hamstring. (That's him writhing after I had to help drag him back on the boat.) All I can say is, THANK GOD Jim was wearing real swim shorts and not a damn Speedo like most Aussie men. That's one place where I'm perfectly A-OK with prudish Americans and their big puritanical swim shorts. And if the elastic wears out on your ratty Speedo that your 57-year-old ass is still wearing, for GOD'S SAKE, GET A NEW ONE! Ah, but I digress....

Next up, Sarah decides to take a turn on the Boat of Doom, and manages to pull a tendon or something in her arm. She now has tingly fingers and almost made me cut her meat for her tonight. I managed to remain injury free... at least until I smacked my middle toe with the car door. It's the same toe I had to do minor surgery on the night before to remove two giant splinters. If that toe survives Australia without an amputation, it will be a miracle.

Beachy keen

I think this is my favorite photo so far. Taken from the headlands directly across the road from Sarah and Dutchy's house (A short walk).

Funny money

Cash in Australia is very cheerful. All bright and shiny and there are even see-through parts (that little weird shape with the stars in the corner of the $50 bill is transparent). Apparently it's made of plastic -- you have to be careful it doesn't melt. Or, that's what I was told... I'm not really sure of the circumstances where money would melt... on the seat of the car? Who leaves their money on the seat of the car? You deserve to have melty cash then.

They also have $1 and $2 coins, and no bills lower than $5. When the shuttle driver at the airport gave me $4.50 in change, I thought he was trying to rip me off. Until I noticed the $2 coins. No such thing as a quarter. There are 20-cent coins and I think there are 50-cent coins, but I don't have one. Also: NO PENNIES. They round up or down, and 5-cents is the smallest coin. (the coins in the photo, top to bottom, are $2, $1, 20 cents, 10 cents, 5 cents)

In general, stuff is more expensive here. It's probably about the same in American dollars, but I've noticed the little stuff like when we ordered Thai take away (they don't say take out). The green curry that would be a $10-$11 dish in PDX is a $13-$14 dish here. Beers at the track were $6, but that seemed relatively normal for a sporting event. Bottled water: $3. Of course, it would all seem about the same if you came here from NYC.

and...they're racing

Sarah, Minnie and I got "all tarted up," (Dutchie's phrase), and went to the horse races today in Moruya. It's just a local meet, so we didn't think it was a big deal, but a friend of Sarah's said to wear dresses. They only have races there once every few weeks, so it's kind of a big occasion. The prize money for these races was about the same for racing at Portland Meadows. Australians are still into their racing, and it was a blast to be in an actual crowd as the horses come across the finish line.

It was a gorgeous day, we had a couple of sparkling wines and a snack, and bet on the ponies. We were unsuccessful on the gambling end, but since I think we bet $12 over four races, I don't think we need to call Gamblers Anonymous quite yet...

Things that are different about Australian racing:

* They run to the right instead of the left like in the states.

* Everything is in meters, so I couldn't really tell how far they were going. Track was a weird shape -- sort of triangular.

* Almost all of the horses are the same shade of bay. A couple of chestnuts thrown in and I think I saw one grey. No blacks and only one or two dark bays.

* They say "and... they're racing" instead of "and ... they're off!"

People wore everything from super dressy dresses to totally casual. They have a competition for best dressed kid, man and woman. I should have tried to get pics of the winners, but I was a little sunburned and a little cranky by then.

Kangaroos!!

Saw three kangaroos on my walk this morning. They are so... FREAKY!
(This is video)

Love, Penelope

In the states, newspapers keep getting skinnier. It's all about saving money by using less newsprint, and hoping no one really notices. In Australia, the papers are still really wide. It seems like they might have gotten shorter, but I'm not sure on that. It feels really weird in your hands now that I'm used to the "fun size" American papers.

At The Oregonian (where I'm involved with the design of the front page about 50 percent of the time), we have a lot of discussion about what photos are appropriate to run in the "promos" -- that's the area about the flag (the top of the page with the paper's name). We worry about not showing anything too offensive or silly, and touching the actual words that say "The Oregonian" is sort of like touching the pope. It just won't happen. We must be SERIOUS.

I loved my Sunday Sydney Morning Herald. Check out Penelope Cruz shaking her groove thang in the middle of the flag. And you know what? I still thought it was a real paper.

Hey, beaches

The beaches are amazing. Really. There are several within walking distance. This is Malua Beach -- about 5 minutes by car. It was a cloudy day, so you don't see the really cool aquamarine of the water. I really want to capture it on film (OK, disc), but it might involve actually learning how to use the new camera.

That's what friends are for

Let's face it. I'm a mooch. Probably close to 90 percent of my vacations involve going to places where I can stay with family or friends. Hey, why get a hotel if I can crash at YOUR place! But in all honesty, it makes for a more fun vacation experience. I like pretending to be a local.

So the area of Australia where I'm staying is a little off the beaten path. It's sort of a tourist destination for Australians, but not such a huge international hot spot. So far, my biggest impression is that Australia is full of rednecks, but with great beaches and cool accents. Want to drive a loud truck? check. Want to keep a bunch of stuff in your yard? check. Want to hang out at the mall in too-short shorts and an oversize T-shirt? check. check. I don't think they have them, but Australians would LOVE Walmart.

Here's a pic from the trip to the mall yesterday. We went to Aldi's -- Australian for Costco.

Aussie word(s) of the day:

Pom = British or Brit. "Yeah, that Karen married herself a pom."

Trackies = sweatpants. "You might want to wear your trackies - it could get a little chilly later."

Drinking with mommy

So I'm visiting my friend Sarah on this trip. We've been friends for 36 years. That's elementary play buddies, seventh-grade roller skating, high school, college roommates, and I lived with her when I first moved to Portland. She knows me and 95 percent of my history.

But let's face it. We're old. Sarah is now the married mommy of Will (4 years old) and Wendy (1.5 years). But to celebrate my arrival, we decided to do a shot of the tequila (Patron - Reposado) that I brought for her from the states. Mommy Sarah no longer owns proper shot glasses. We made do.

Caviar dreams

I didn't win the Australian Lotto. Two numbers and one of the supplemental numbers doesn't win anything. Very sad.

Getting there

I'm OK with flying. I don't get anxious or worried or sick.... but 14 hours on a plane is just weird. It took two days to get rid of my Fred Flinstone feet and cankles. Your body's not meant to stay at 30-something-thousand altitude for that long. I've never used that nose spray stuff in my life, but it came in handy. And thank god I went for the Economy "Plus" deal at the last minute. For $149, I got an extra 5 inches of leg room. I figure for a little over $10 an hour, I might keep my sanity... and circulation in my legs. It was worth every penny.

One plus about international flying? It appears to be the only time when airlines still feed you. It's sort of like they are flinging you onto the new time zone. We didn't get on the plane until 11 p.m., but then they served dinner. weird. Then it's lights out, movies all night and breakfast at the new 6 a.m. I slept off and on. Got to Sydney at 8 a.m. on New Year's Day. Then caught a commuter flight down to the tiny Moruya airport. It's on the coast south of Sydney. I'm staying at my friend Sarah's at Surf Beach near Bateman's Bay. Pretty much just hanging out for a few weeks being a local. We'll see what happens...