The Working Holiday Project

Auckland New Zealand

2012-06-01T05:57:00.000-07:00

LAUGHING OUT LOUD AS TYPE THIS ON DAY 5 IN AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND. It is September, 2011. As you may know I just completed a year in Australia of working, living, and traveling and did it by myself. Now I have rejoined forces with one of my best friends in the world, Marcus Robinson, and we are starting a new chapter recently by touching down (huge flash mob in the international customs receiving area started around ME out of nowhere while waiting for Marcus to land BTW...so random and such a great welcome for both of us to the wild fun and crazy New Zealand that it is) in Auckland on the North Island of NZ. The reason for the laughter is how fast our powers as friends have gotten us into living and working situations most people would never even dream of getting within 1 week of entering a country and city they know nothing of and know no one. Within 5 days of being on this island we have managed to do 4 things (we called them BANK, PHONE, JOB, PLACE):
http://test.skimlinks.com
1. Setup a bank account.

2. Get working cell phones.

3. Find two jobs each with weekly hours available of up to 50 if we want.

4. Find a privately owned condominium (flat) in a modern and 4 star hotel building to rent to us for 6 months.

THE REASON I LAUGH IS DUE TO HOW FAST IT HAPPENED AND HOW IT HAPPENED. Not to mention that the rental industry in this city is absolutely out of control and rentals are basically non existent due to the 2011 Rugby World Cup right kicking off in a week. That didn't stop us from anything. There were only about 20 furnished properties in our price range for rent in the city and maybe a quarter of them were ready to rent within this next 'crucial period' we were in because after September 1st hits, ALL THE HOSTELS AND SHORT TERM RENTALS INCREASE IN PRICE UP TO 50%. We didn't have a choice, we HAD to find something and lock it in or the next thing we would know we would be in a 10 bed dorm in a crappy dirty hostel in the loud city center paying $300 a week. With proper clothing, sharp looking faces and grooming, and a mouthpiece that Blake from Glen Garry Glenross would stamp with approval, we managed to hit it off well with our young Colombian female rental agent to where she turned down another offer from a couple that probably had better credentials then us. We love you Brenda Franco and thank you so much for the 2 bedroom 1 bath with city view, balcony, and modern furnishings!

I THINK WE EVEN MOVED MONEY AROUND IN OFFSHORE ACCOUNTS to show we had months of rent in reserves. We did...kind of, I think. It didn't matter. The woman at the rental office judged us on our character and that was enough. I can still vividly remember leaving the hostel we had stayed at in Ponsonby for our "get your feet on the ground" period. This was 6 nights total. I remember looking at some of the people that were "living long term" at the backpackers we were staying at...not a look of disgust, but a look of just feeling bad. Not feeling bad that they are living in a dorm room, not feeling bad that they have settled in a backpackers hostel for their semi-permanent living situation...it was more that I felt bad that I had tools/skills as a Speech Communications major that they didn't have. Actually, it may have been the way I was raised as a child being induced to social situations without even knowing it (3 sports a year starting early at an early age, church, youth group, Boy Scouts, etc). Thank you Mom and Dad. Having a "mouthpiece" as my mate of 15 years, Marcus, and I call it, is something you are not born with, but more develop through social and interpersonal situations that you don't know you are in until they are over. We took a cab to our new place, a hotel right in the CBD just close enough to the action, but far away enough from the noise to where we had peace and quiet.

LIVING IN A HOTEL FOR 6 MONTHS IS SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW MANY PEOPLE CAN RELATE TO. Key cards to our elevator, gym, and hot tub that say "Before you came our hotel had 4 stars, now that you are here, we have 5." Our place was small, a 2 bedroom 1 bath suite with a kitchen and two huge glass doors connecting to our balcony that looked out over the Auckland port and CBD. Nights of room key replacements (due to them being lost) and the staff getting to know us, we became the Americans that knew EVERYBODY. The bartender at the bar downstairs would sell us red wine on Saturday afternoons and not only give us an overfilled plastic "to go" cup, but more would sometimes give us the old and almost sour leftover bottles that they would have only sold to a patron that wasn't paying attention. It was once in a lifetime. The best feeling was just coming home at night. It reminded me of the building attendants in New York City that my friends who live there give cash Christmas gifts to. Everyone knew us and respected us. We worked hard and played hard and were very cordial to the people that maintained our building. On a fun note, we had a washer/dryer in our place that came with the rental (fully furnished). His name was Ralphy. Ralphy was one of the greatest laundry machines ever invented. While my flatmate and mother will disagree, I can only say that if you were patient with Ralphy, he would produce the results you were looking for. It washed and dried in the same machine -- GENIUS. Mind you sometimes Ralphy produced hot and steamy and wet clothes....but again, patience is a virtue. There was also a vacuum cleaner we were given. We named him OZONE. This was Marcus' favorite household device. While I questioned the ability of this young floor sucker, I still always compared him to the abilities of Ralphy...they never compared. Ozone certainly sucked. Life in a furnished flat in a 4 star hotel in one of the top 10 cities to live in in the world (rated by some entity I read about one morning in the New Zealand Herald) = priceless. It was 'sweet as' mate to say the least.

ONCE AGAIN MY 2000 KEYSTROKES AN HOUR GOT ME AN OFFICE JOB IN THE INDUSTRY OF 'FAST MOVING CONSUMER GOODS.' FMCG...more like FML haha. I have been waiting to write about this for awhile (if you don't like boring explanations of transportation process chains, please skip 2 paragraphs down). There are a few companies in the world that move products around that you consumers go day and day out without ever thinking what goes into the production/transportation/delivery of them. Thank you to the Working Holiday Project that I have endeavored into, I now have the ability to understand these mundane household amenities that we share worldwide. Take for example something as simple as a Durex condom. It gets made in a factory in Thailand. It is then shipped on a container vessel that take weeks to get to New Zealand. Then the whole shipment goes on hold. A partial amount of the shipment is sent to an office in Christchurch, NZ to be tested. Then the test package gets mistakenly routed to our office in Auckland NZ. We send it back. The shipping company claims they don't understand how this could have happened. We resolve it over a week of confusion. The test finally goes through. Durex passes. We are now allowed to sell this product in New Zealand. The vessel that had the rubbers on it docks into Port of Tauranga. We get a call saying that due to the Auckland port strike, our containers are going to be delayed. My Irish boss is frantic. He has told so many Account Executives in the last 3 weeks for all major outlets that this product WILL BE HERE ON TIME (so they can hit their annual sales numbers and get bonuses to feed their families). I get off the phone with the guy who looks out at those AT-AT Star Wars looking things (btw where George Lucas got the idea) that crane/lift the containers around in the port and all he can tell me is that the container will be there in the morning.

NOW I HAVE TO CALL DHL. There is nothing worse in the world of corporate communication where you have to ask questions to an entity that can only answer/respond on an entity that he/she has no control of. This was my life in Auckland working for this worldwide personal/household products company. Responding to a boss who wanted results and answers on freight shipments that I had now control over. The best thing about it is that my boss never reprimanded me or put me down for not having our supply in on time. He knew there was nothing I could do. So DHL now says that the transport company (who picks the containers up from the port) was late coming in the morning so there will be a delay. Now I am getting calls about the condoms from sales reps that want the product in stock by lunchtime. Not gonna happen. I call DHL, they say maybe it can be delivered. No promises. Cool, can't wait to pass that message on. The delivery to the store makes it in time. The condoms get put on the racks. The innocent Kiwi shopping at the supermarket throws some Durex Pleasuremax condoms in their cart. The way I look at it; what took me almost 2 months of delays and headaches, sorrows, and stress, has now kept this New Zealand consumer from 9 months of an irritable wife, 18 years of dealing with an immature child, and a 10's of thousands of dollars. Lesson learned here: be patient and don't take any product you buy for granted, ever. You don't know the story behind it or the story it COULD HAVE created for you. BTW, I still want to know why they aren't called SMCG companies. Slow as.

AUCKLAND IS THE SMALLEST BIG CITY I HAVE EVER LIVED IN. The 3rd or 4th night we were sitting in a convenience store using computers to Skype the USA and a woman named Roimata Hawke (Maori woman who just opened her first bar up the street) overheard us talking about that we were looking for bar work and ran up the street to have her partner approach us for jobs (maybe she was intimidated by Marcus' beard haha). Harry, her partner of many years came in and the rest is history. Marcus becomes their Director of Marketing/Bar Manager and I become their Photographer. A cute and hip tapas and wine bar that was underneath a hotel, it was extremely tight. I barely ever had to pay for a beer and could stop in whenever I was on my home from work. We even had a photo shoot night where Marcus was one of the models. Again, our charisma and character landed us a family-type spot in this families first endeavor to own there own bar. It felt amazing. I started bringing my co workers there for rugby games where we had roped off private areas...but...as we all know...all good things come to an end. It was unfortunate, but after the Rugby World Cup, the foot traffic on this particular road in the city dwindled, and one party less after another, the bar couldn't sustain itself. We took part in the official grand opening of this amazing bar in Auckland to only see a few months later it flake off the map like a a 6 year old's booger. It was bitter sweet but such a great experience. Miss you Harry and Roi, thank you for the wonderful times and taking us in to be part of your journey and family/friends.

BEING IN THE COOLEST CLUBS AND TAKING PICTURES WITH CELEBRITIES HAPPENED... A FAIR AMOUNT. We made good with the bouncers all over town and the next thing we know we are in clubs that cost people annual fees of thousands to go into (we are let in for free just because -- I still don't why) and getting pictures with the All Blacks rugby players. These athletes would be like your Kobe Bryant, Derek Jeter, or Peyton Manning. And here we are, two American travelers partying with them during and after the 2012 Rugby World Cup that they WON (more on that below). What I am trying to insinuate here is that Auckland (and New Zealand) for that matter is such a 'hands on' place that if you want it to happen, it can. For example, at the end of our time in Auckland, Marcus organized a charity party event that drew in almost 100 people in on a Sunday. Raffle prizes, talking on the microphone, drink specials, mates from all the networks we had made, and dj's and dancers; we raised $500 for the kids. The event was called 99 Problems But A Kid Ain't One and the money we raised helped a few handfuls of kids get lunches, raincoats, proper school gear in poverty stricken South Auckland areas. It felt amazing. Thank you to everyone who donated and came out.

WHEN IT COMES TO TRAVELING ABROAD AND SEEING THINGS, PLACES, AND PEOPLE...THERE IS NOTHING AS BIG AS A WORLD CUP. Period. Whether it is soccer, rugby, the Olympics or a week long festival in a European city, World Cups are EPIC. Yeah festivals are gnarly; but...they last a weekend. World Cups engulf a community for weeks on end. They create a buzz for the city, culture, people, and country they are held in that can't be pinpointed but can be felt in an awesome way. People from all over the world turn out, every hotel is overbooked, every street corner on any given night has fans walking downing it chanting all type of patriotic songs. I saw white knights with a red cross painted on their chest (thank you England), green painted faces (thank you Ireland), normal street clothes (thank you USA -- we suck at Rugby Union), and locals dressed in ALL BLACK. For those of you living on the athletic moon for the past 100 years, the All Blacks Rugby Team of New Zealand is the most successful athletic team of all time. Ever. They don't lose...well, ahem, except for some recent World Cups BUT, honestly, they dominate. Year after year they are the ones who hold the line, they hold all the records, they set all the tones. My office had cubicle dress up competitions, outdoor Friday beer drinking rugby Olympics competitions, and a ton of stressed out Kiwi co-workers (i.e. game against Australia). Here is a good way to relate it; numerous times from numerous mates of mine at work that follow rugby I heard the phrase "if New Zealand doesn't win this Rugby World cup, this country will go into recession." At first I would here this and think haha that is funny. But no, really, they weren't joking around. Keep in mind these people live on two islands in the South Pacific ocean and there aren't a ton of sports to harness and hold on to. There is no baseball, no basketball (except for 1 pro team), no grid iron football, no hockey, etc...there is RUGBY. Rugby, especially with their worldwide honored team playing in their home country a Rugby World Cup that only happens every 4 years is a MASSIVE DEAL. I truly believe that if France didn't have that penalty at the end and New Zealand lost that championship game (who, by the way, upset them in past finals), the country would have seen a drop in their GDP, a raise in their unemployment, etc. I can't pinpoint it but all I can say it was a very emotional roller coaster to live, work, and watch through this small country's (4.4 million ONLY) eyes. On a final note, the night that they won the World Cup, I was with all my Kiwi mates in the heart of the CBD of Auckland in one of the most happening outdoor bar venues (lines were around the corner to get it and most people never did) and when it hit that the French made a penalty at the end of the game that would ensure an All Blacks victory, the bar became absolutely CHAOTIC. I have heard the 12th man in Seattle at Qwest Field, I have been to a Def Leppard rock concert, I have seen monster truck rallies...but none of them will ever compare to the SHRILLING LOUDNESS of the screams out of the hearts of these Kiwis the moment New Zealand won the 2011 Rugby World Cup. As hugs began to fall into tables and glasses began to break, I remember embracing everyone I knew and met that night with the longest and biggest hugs...I started crying (it actually wets my eyes right now writing about it) and I was not the only one. It was heart wrenching in such an tremendous way it is hard to describe in words. Go the All Blacks.

MY 31ST BIRTHDAY I WON $1350 ON ONE HAND OF THREE CARD POKER AT THE ONLY CASINO IN AUCKLAND. It was a typical Friday night in Auckland with friends. Beers at the office at 4pm (huge fridge FILLED with beer and wine). Go home, work out in our hotel's gym, sauna, shower, music, dinner, drinks, out the door. Head to Sam's (my best friend in NZ) house in Ponsonby (suburb of Auckland that is very artsy and has a good nightlife). Drink beer and take shots in the kitchen until Fleetwood Mac comes on. Sing and dance and laugh. Walk to the Ponsonby bars. Dance. Head to the Auckland CBD. Dance. ------ This is where it gets hazy but we went to the casino early on and lost money. Everyone dispersed after the last bar in town (one of those times on a street corner where you see everyone walk in all opposite directions to go home and call it quits) and I turned to my mate Shane (Ozzie neighbor who I carpooled with and consider a very close friend now) and said something like "Will you wingman with me back to the casino? I am not going home a loser on my birthday." (or something like that). He did. Next thing I know we are up a few hundred playing three card poker where I have enough to start betting larger on the 'pair plus' bet. I put $40 on it and was dealt three 7s (my lucky number actually) which is a 30 to 1 payout. $1200. Thanks Sky City Casino. I didn't think anything of it until the next day when a friend mentioned to me that it was fate 30 to 1 on my 31st birthday. Gotta love destiny.

BEING ON THE ROAD FOR ALMOST 2 YEARS YOU FORGET HOW NICE IT IS TO HAVE HOME (HOUSE) TO YOURSELF. I was blessed to have this gift (household) given to me the this last Christmas of 2011. A South African friend at my work offered me to house sit for her while their family went to Wellington over Xmas/New Years. Traveling the world you don't get all the luxuries that you are used to. My cell phone, for example's, coolest feature is a torch on the front (flashlight). It doesn't connect to the Internet and doesn't have a keyboard. It has one game on it. I haven't owned a car or vehicle for 22 months. I have driven a handful of times no more than a handful of hours. I don't have a house to go home to with various rooms to relax in. Growing up in a home you are accustomed to having a household with a yard and garage so when you take one's self away from it, you LOVE it when it comes back. This house that my friend let me house sit was everything you long for while being on a journey. Big huge vaulted ceilings, sun rooms to nap in, art on the walls, large kitchen to cook in, a trampoline, etc. It was amazing. Set on the end of a road on the edge of One Tree Hill park in a nice suburb of Auckland, this house treated me to a Christmas filled with lots of sleep, food, bike rides in the park, sheep chasing, wine, writing, video games, movies, and photography. I think the first day I was there I accidentally napped in 3 different areas of the house. I was in paradise. It almost felt like I had won the lottery.

NEW ZEALANDERS LOVE THEIR COUNTRY AND ARE EXTREMELY PASSIONATE ABOUT SHOWING VISITORS EVERYTHING THEY CAN THAT MAKES THEIR COUNTRY SPECIAL. The birds, the foliage, the beaches, the music, the dance, the culture, the food, etc. are all well known about by Kiwis and they are very knowledgeable about everything domestic to them. I took a couple of side trips with my good friend Naressa (Aucklander/North Island local expert ;) ) which were amazing because she knew so much about nature and the country (identifying which sounds are coming from which birds in the bush, explaining how certain land formations were formed, etc). Kiwis also love to have a good time. I can vividly remember being a couple hours north of Auckland in this tiny tiny township called Leigh by the ocean and just DIGGING and RIPPING into the trunk of her car looking for clothes to put on for a show we were about to see. With LCD Soundsystem's "Home" playing in the car and red wine hitting our lips in between costume try-ons, I finally found what I was looking for; a massive huge large cream/brown mink coat with a huge lapel and a length that went down to my knees. We were late for a burlesque/variety show called Birds of Paradise in this small bar/venue in the middle of nowhere. It felt like one of those places the characters in Footloose would have to sneak out to dance in. The mink coat was a HIT. Towards the end of the show the MC brought me up on stage and I was awarded a hand knitted Italian scarf for being the most FLUFFY in the audience. I put the scarf on immediately and all it did was make me even fluffier :) The show ends and the venue turns into a cast and crew and a very few (me) dance party. I got my Nikon DSLR out of the car and became the photographer. Naressa is a professional dancer and had danced in the show the past few years so she knew everybody there resulting in a VIP party on the property in the annexed side house. After dancing the night away and meeting tons of great artists and dancers, I woke up in a tent to two Tui birds BUZZING THE TOWER (like Maverick would). I don't think they liked that our tent was underneath their tree. Cheeky little buggers those Tuis are.

ANOTHER SIDE TRIP OUT OF AUCKLAND FOUND ME ON THE DOORSTEP OF A HOUSE IN A FOREST KNOCKING ON THE DOOR AT 9:30PM. My friend and I had taken a day trip out to the small ocean side township called Piha. SPECTACULAR and so pure and pristine now I know why New Zealanders are so passionate about their country and landscape. The only campground that we were going to stay at was not taking walk-ins due to the septic tanks being backed up so, after some fish and chips, a couple of Canadian Club and dries, and a gorgeous sunset over the Southern Ocean, we were homeless for the night. It wasn't long before we ventured down this small road into a forest with no street lights (just dim house lights) and came across a circular meadow fenced in by trees, old broken down campers, and broken down machinery/wood working tools. It was SILENT. It felt like I was in an abandoned/condemned old Boy Scout day camp activities area. With our headlights dipping under the overgrown leaves and branches that scratched the windshield of our car, we descended down a 30 foot hill into this sanctuary for the night. The house on one side of the meadow was dark while the one of the other had a porch light on. We hiked around and went up to the front door of this old wooden and brick country house and knocked on the door. We wanted to make sure it would be okay to camp in the meadow for the night. An old man came to the door in his bathrobe...I noticed the large fire he had been burning in the adjacent study as we peered through the door. "Hello, my Kiwi mate said,...the campground was full in town and we don't have anywhere to stay...would you mind if we put up our tent in the meadow?" Then the old man's wife came up to the door and said "Who is it dear?" Old man "Oh just a traveling young couple looking for a place to sleep for the night." After a very genuine and overwhelmingly positive approval for their neighbors who own the land we were looking to squat on, we scurried back through the trees excited to setup our tent under the moonlight. It was like something out of a Colleen McCullough novel.

IN ALL, AUCKLAND IS AN ABSOLUTELY GREAT CITY TO LIVE IN. While sometimes the outskirts can feel like a trip into a twilight zone of the 1940's, the culture, diversity, laid back-ness and overall pulse is attractive. When I think back on it I just see laughs, music, and good people. My 1 hour walk/bus ride to work in the morning (yes the public transportation is not insanely advanced) was not looked down upon for this travel writer with headphones in his ear and a morning newspaper in his hands. The ride would float me through little surrounding towns and I would constantly zone off and examine abundant mom & pop bakeries, dairies, shops, and cafes. Pleasant and peaceful is an understatement. The suburbs are all ecelectic and different and surround the CBD like a big hug of embracement. You could walk from end to end of the main suburbs across the CBD in an hour. Auckland is that small. But come a Friday night or a Saturday afternoon in the heart of the city, Auckland's blood pressure rises to a level that even the tamest city dweller couldn't ignore nor not participate in. It is like a sleeping giant who's yawns are filled with festivals, music, culture, art, passionate people, and a city/landscape that could rival many cities in the world. Miss you already Auckland, stay cool. -RCM-

Rhythm and Vines Music Festival 2011

2012-04-04T21:10:00.000-07:00

A lot of you were wanting the link to my R&V article...here it is:

http://kotorimagazine.com/index.php?news=4576

Hope everyone is well.

McLeod

Happy Holidays Video from Auckland NZ

2012-01-01T22:57:00.000-08:00

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM AUCKLAND NEW ZEALAND!

Miss and love you all,

Ryan

Sydney Australia

2011-09-09T09:00:00.000-07:00

I CAN VIVIDLY REMEMBER SITTING IN THE SHOWER IN MY STUDIO APARTMENT IN LOS ANGELES 20 MONTHS AGO THINKING. Some of you that I know closely know that my best thinking is not only done sitting down in a heavy and hot shower, but also in the dark (or just dimly lit enough to make out shadows and water reflections). My company had recently gone through a recent large HR (Human Resources) exercise and I found myself without two things; a boss, and a known future with my company. It was perfect setting for deep and life changing thought. 3 months through the holiday season, many bottles of Charles Shaw later and hours upon hours of Internet evening research, I starting peeking into the idea window of traveling the world again (been 7 years since college graduation when my good friend Brian and I backpacked Europe). Once the VISION of going to Australia, New Zealand, and Southeast Asia for a few years to work and travel sparked emotion in my brain to where I could quite possibly make it a reality, the thinking hit hard in the dark shower in my little studio in Culver City, CA, USA. Where I am going with this is that I want to tell you that things I thought of on that shower floor (how would my life be? Where would I live? Who would I live with? Where would I go to find work? Is this a good decision for my body? My mind? etc.) have somewhat actually happened in real life in Australia thus far in an amazing way.

SYDNEY IS ONE OF THE MOST ROMANTIC, FASCINATING, YOUNGEST, AND ECLECTICALLY DIVERSE CITIES ONE CAN EVER LIVE AND WORK IN. Per the above paragraph and back to the dark showers 20 months ago, I can picture little things that could happen when you travel by yourself in a country for a year; finding a little job a small backpacker motel in a small city in the tropics, learning how to surf from a local in an even smaller town in the middle of nowhere, going on runs in farm/wine country and having animals look at you as they have never seen anyone exercise on their gravel roads before, walking in a park with views of the Sydney Opera House and Sydney Harbor Bridge to only have wild cockatoos land on you to eat out of your hand, sharing a small apartment in a big city with 3 good people, running around the brick and cobblestone corner to get a bottle of wine (tightly wrapped in a brown paper bag) before the night starts, hiking up view points by yourself with a camera and knowing no one to go with, etc. You just GO and these little things I envisioned seem to add up in a magnificent way. What I am trying to tell you here is that the Sydney portion of this adventure (living and working for 3 months in the heart of the city) has produced some of the best realtime visions I had almost two years ago when I was picturing this episode of my life. Sydney is special in a magical way.

THE FIRST ADVENTURES IN SYDNEY ACTUALLY TOOK PLACE WHEN MY GOOD FRIENDS BRIAN, JEFF, AND KYLE WERE IN TOWN (before I started living and working here in the city). I called them my chickens and I was the mother goose as tried my hardest to keep them all in the 'coop' physically and mentally. The first adventure was out to the Blue Mountains which are about an hour west of Sydney. We chose the tour that our friend at our hostel recommended and wow what a referral because it was probably one of the best days/nights we all had in the 4 nights/5 days we were in New South Wales. Our driver was a white guy who still had roots into the aboriginal culture through his grandparents. The Blue Mountains are sacred to the indigenous and Nick, our guide, knew A TON of cool information as he took our group down massive valleys and under waterfalls and to sheer cliff look out points. It was spectacular. Yes we have all seen green forested mountains and seen pretty things in a landscape, but there was something a little more special about the Blue Mountains that I can't quit put my finger on. Maybe it was the sacredness...maybe it was the legends, myths, and true stories that our guide told us about during the whole day...maybe it was that fact that around every corner everyone was looking for the most deadly spider in the world, the Funnel Web. Apparently that little guy is all around the Blue Mountains and as a side note our guide made 10's of thousands of dollars as a young kid catching these killer spiders and selling them to research companies to extract their venom to facilitate finding an antidote. Maybe it was that I with 3 of my best friends who I hadn't seen in almost a year who flew thousands of miles across the largest ocean in the world to hike through these sacred caverns, cliffs, and crevasses. MAYBE IT WAS ALL OF IT...

MORNINGS ON THE CITY RAIL (SUBWAY) SYSTEM BLASTING OUT TO THE WESTERN SUBURBS IS SOMETHING SPECIAL. Up early before my other 2 flatmates and bundling up as the yellows, oranges, reds, and grays of Autumn/Winter are now here and it is brisk and cold outside. My walk to the train station is uphill through Elizabeth Bay (wealthy and fine) to Kings Cross (cheap and party oriented) where I can still feel and smell the beer and premixed alcohol stains on the sidewalks washed out by hoses from city workers. It sometimes reminds me of the streets in Pamplona, Spain any 'next morning' during the San Fermine festival (Running of the Bulls). Headphones locked in and a backpack covering the corporate business casual shell my body is required to wear to this particular place of business, the morning commute for Ryan McLeod is an hour of awakening that I love. While the corporate life is extremely lame and boring, I thoroughly enjoy the PROCESS of living and working in Sydney, Australia. I can't tell you how many times I have had great music playing on my mp3 player (i.e. Jim Croce's Box #10, or Phazing by Dirty South feat Rudy, or Sam Cooke's A Change is Gonna Come) and have looked at the sun rising over the skyline of Sydney and had a smile on my face. I smile for many reasons (that I am alive, that I have the freedom to see/travel this beautiful globe right now, that I have friends and family in small places, that I AM) but the main reason I find myself smiling at moments like these is because it is transcendentally mirroring the EXACT SAME SMILE I had 20 months ago picturing possible moments like these on the floor of my dark shower in my little hermit-like studio apartment in Los Angeles.

I FOUND A JOB WITH A LARGE FMCG (FAST MOVING CONSUMER GOODS) COMPANY THROUGH A TEMP AGENCY. My duties were customer service and data entry. I was taken in as one of their own and before I know it I am being invited to company Friday night parties where drinks are taken care of (open tab) etc. One of the nights out we were out at a bar in Darling Harbour in the Sydney CBD and there was a piano man playing from 9 to maybe midnight? What is important to know here (and for those of you that know me know I LOVE piano bars and everything that revolves around them) is that I was so happy to see a real PIANO MAN after being on the road for a long time (been I think since some of those times at Shout house with you San Diego visitors :)) that I ended up leaving his gig WITH HIM to go to his next gig. He was this old silver-streaked pony tailed locally known Sydney piano man that happily said I could ride with him to his next gig. I even helped carry some of his gear. The next thing I know we are zooming across the Sydney Harbor Bridge and we are talking of the differences between piano players that play for money and ones that do it for passion. We talked about piano players in San Diego, Los Angeles, and most importantly, Las Vegas. I gave him my contact information and as we enter the bar for his midnight gig he tells the bartender that anything "this guy wants is on me." So now I am solo, WAY out of the Sydney CBD with a piano man I met at a company party that I temp for and he is picking up my drinks? Only in Sydney, what a laid back kick-ass city.

I WAKE UP FROM A NAP ONE DAY IN MY SMALL ELIZABETH BAY APARTMENT BY MY ROOMMATE WHO IS SHAKING ME THAT WE ARE HEADING TO THE ROYAL BOTANICAL GARDENS. Clumsily I get dressed and open my eyes as I feel that this particular Saturday morning's champagne had been stronger than before. Shaking it off and packing my backpack with a bottle of two or wine, we head out. Jen and I are flatmates that are big on missions and wine and that day we were set out to find thousands of dollars worth of birds. We found them. Perhaps with a slight advantage and previous experience, my good friend Jen knew exactly where to take us to go to where the cockatoos SWOOP. We stopped at a small convenience store in Wooloomooloo to get some cereal as bait and I will tell you it more than worked. The next thing I know we have $10,000+ (apparently they are around $2k a piece back in the states) of wild cockatoos LANDING ON US and eating out of our hands. The Sydney Harbor Bridge and Sydney Opera House casually are to our backs as we are attempting to internationally communicate with these birds that 'we are Americans and mean no harm, here is the food you requested.' It was awesome. Talk about a traveling experience and something you read about in a magazine, we were living it right there and then. The best part is when you would be innocently standing or talking/doing nothing and one of them would just FLY DOWN AND LAND ON YOUR HEAD TO SAY HELLO. Only in Sydney.

ANOTHER TIME I FOUND MYSELF IN THIS CITY IN A TAXI CAB WITH SUNGLASSES ON TIGHT AND A BACKPACK CONTAINING MY NIKON D5000 DSLR READY TO FIRE. I started the con right away for fun and told the cab driver that we were late for a birthday party in Watson's Bay so to 'STEP ON IT.' The reason for the lie and the hurried-ness on him was because I was chasing the sunset over the Sydney skyline and didn't want to miss a great photo opportunity. Watson's Bay is a above the very rich 'gold and silver sun splashed condos of the eastern suburbs' (where Nicole Kidman has her place or whatever). Anyway, little did the taxi driver know that we had no birthday party to go to and Jen (different Jen -- ol' 2020 Mortgage from San Diego friend Jen) and I had been cleaning and drinking in the apartment with our other flatmate all day and we had, basically, no idea what we were doing being in a cab at 5pm. Champagne and orange juice always seems to seep into its consumers in a way that makes you feel on top of the world. We took pictures at Doyle's in Watson's Bay and the sunset. Time to go. After having a brief encounter with a couple on holiday who thoroughly enjoyed our presence and invited us to other events going on in the evening, we collapsed into a taxi and headed for the city. I can still remember my recommendation of going home being instantly rebutted by my friend Jen who said "Shady PINES!" We were woken up by the cab driver on the corner of Crown and Oxford in Darlinghurst and GUESS WHERE WE WERE?!? Shady Pines!

SHADY PINES IS ONE OF THE BEST BARS I HAVE EVER BEEN TO IN MY LIFE. First of all there is no sign for the bar anywhere. Anywhere. Not even on the door. It is in a back alley of the Darlinghurst area of Sydney and is an absolute GEM. Picture an underground rustic low lighted (amber and yellow lights) lamp style-taxidermy bar with bartenders who have pens in their ears and haircuts from the American 1940's. Seriously. So their trademark drink, while you are sitting around old whiskey and PBR style drink paraphernalia, is called a WHISKEY APPLE. They pour a shot of Jim Beam into a cup and at the same time food-process 2 green apples in a juicer and pour the frothy remnants on top of your whiskey drink. I have ordered 4 at a time before (for me). I am not an alcoholic so please know I ordered 4 so that I didn't have to wait in line again for these little treats. They are gone like a Slurpee and a few gulps just gone. Gone. Also, Shady Pines is only open until 12am. YOU HAVE TO GO THERE IF YOU ARE EVER IN SYDNEY PLEASE EMAIL OR CALL ME SO I CAN HELP YOU FIND THIS PLACE. One night there the band played only two requests of the whole audience, and guess who they were from? Jen and Ryan got to hear John Denver's Take Me Home Country Roads (Ryan) and CCR's Proud Mary (Jen). I love Shady Pines and will miss it greatly when I leave Sydney.

MY MOST RECENT JOB AND LAST JOB THAT I WILL HAVE HAD IN SYDNEY IS AT A CALL CENTER THAT SELLS LIFE INSURANCE AT A VERY FAST PACE. Firstly, I must say the commute and hours are right up my alley. Hours are 12pm to 8pm. Commute is a 30 minute train ride across the Sydney Harbor Bridge with Darling Harbor on my left and Sydney Opera House on my right. Headphones, blue skies, Sydney skyline, I wish you could see it every day like I do. My same temp agency found me the gig and I got feedback from my soon-to-be company that I was "one of the strongest candidates they have ever seen." I guess I killed it in my mock sales call with one of the managers in front of 4 to 5 people. I can tell you right now it gave me chills and felt awesome to be back in my profession I have been practicing since high school; SALES. As much as I am glad to be taking a huge career break from it and don't know if I will ever go back to work full time in sales, it is absolutely great to know that you can take me out of the sales floor, but you can't take the sales floor out of me. It felt awesome. In the first two days I have 3 sales and the other 5 new hire teammates I went through training with, combined, have 1. Weird how the ol "Nice guy Eddie" approach (thank you Mark Feder from the sub prime refinancing days in San Diego) can stick with you and shine when needed in a sales environment anywhere in the world. Not to mention it is LIFE INSURANCE for pete's sake. The challenge is so fun and every minute or so the automatic dialer is connecting you with people all around the country of Australia where you start your script with a very curious "hello?" as the dialer has about a 1 sec delay as you and the customer are connected instantaneously. There are wine bottles on the sales floor as incentives daily and the managers are cool as all hell. Great place to work as everyone is young and from all parts of the world; England, USA, Australia, New Zealand, India, Ireland, etc. and everyone shares a bond that they are doing a very enduring job and everyone, in turn, respects everyone else and parties together. Let me put it this way...basketball shorts and 'flat-blacked' Jordan hightops are allowed on casual Fridays. I just started laughing as I am next to my soon to be new friends and they look like they are about to shoot hoops in the break room at lunch. Outstanding place to work in an outstanding city they call Sydney. Going to miss this place a lot when chapter 2 starts in New Zealand here shortly.

WITH A MONTH LEFT IN SYDNEY I REALIZED THAT I HAD TO GO TO A PERFORMANCE AT THE SYDNEY OPERA HOUSE. I had been around it numerous times for pictures with my parents and friends when they were visiting me but never went IN to the thing because it costs money for some typical tour or you need to book a concert/opera/ballet/etc. I randomly go to the Opera House's website to see what is playing in the next few weeks and something caught my eye immediately. A Tribute to John Williams by the Sydney Symphony. You have to be kidding me right? You are telling me that it just so worked out that in the last 3 weekends I have in Australia, in Sydney, living a 5 minute train ride away from the Sydney Opera House, that the music of Star Wars, Jurassic Park, Indiana Jones, Jaws, The Olympics, Harry Potter, Close Encounters, Superman, etc. is going to be performed in the Main Concert Hall by the Sydney Symphony? Unbelievable. So after analyzing maps of the concert hall online and bouncing between Ticketmaster and the Opera House's website, I manage to conjure up and buy two tickets FRONT ROW in a box seat on the side of the main stage. $70 each only due to getting them early. Next thing I know I am with my friend Kelly (from England), who I met out and about in the Sydney nightlife a few weeks before, and we are drinking champagne and taking pictures with Darth Vader and Storm Troopers before the show with the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the background. Friday night, nice out, Sydney buzzing, 8pm, feeling loose, feeling great. So the seats I analyzed forever to get turned out to be incredible seats. Not only were we front row we were RIGHT BEHIND the french horn section (9 horns total I think) and I was so close I could read the title of the sheet music they were on while playing. For any of you that know John Williams as a composer you will know that he LOVES using french horns at pinnacle moments in his symphonic compositions. Well, I can tell you first hand, he is on to something. The horns, as the buzzed guy behind me was yelling, "its the engine room!...the horns!...THE ENGINE ROOM!!" to the symphony, were amazing and I have a new found respect for them. It is obviously hard to explain it but the next time you hear Princess Leah's theme on the Star Wars soundtrack pay close attention to the muffled, yet extremely important french horns. Chills and shivers in a good way is all I can say.

ONE OF MY FINAL CHAPTERS IN SYDNEY WAS MUSIC PRODUCTION AND REMIXING SCHOOL. Ableton Live is the software program and I have always wanted to go to school to be shown how to use it properly. It is a program that is heaps (word they use here) beyond some of the other music creation and remixing tools in the world (engineered in Germany) and can do certain things that other software applications cannot. What I want to tell you about this school is that in the very first day it accomplished 2 physical affects on my body in only a three hour period; make the hair on my neck stand up, and made my heart pound with adrenaline. What is the last class you took that did that? The classroom was a semi circle table with laptops and MIDI controllers and no more than 8 people were allowed in this privately ran school. 5 minutes from my house in Kings Cross, it couldn't have been in a more perfect location. We learned everything from music theory, drum beat creation, song warping, synthesis of bass lines and melodies, remixing, performing live, audio effects, MIDI effects, mastering sound output, frequencies, etc. IT WAS AMAZING. Probably the coolest class/school I have ever been to besides when I taught myself how to edit on Avid years ago during independent study in the Speech Communications building at The University of Washington. This was better though because after we made stuff everyone in the class would play their sounds for everyone to hear so that you can learn from your peers. It made me think I maybe should have gone to an Arts school from the age of 19 to 23. Can't ever trade the times at UW though...not for anything. In all, with Ableton Live School I attended in Sydney I will just say one thing: "they should have never shown me this."

AUSTRALIA IS UNIQUE IN SO MANY WAYS. HERE IS A LIST OF THINGS I HAVE NOTICED THROUGHOUT MY YEAR WORKING AND TRAVELING THE COUNTRY:

- "MATE" is not only used amongst friends but also used to strangers and even from a boss to an employee.
- KANGAROOS run around everywhere in the country, across roads, and even on golf courses.
- THE GREAT BARRIER REEF is the largest living organism in the world (trust me on this I have scuba dived it for 10 hours in total and it is AMAZINGLY ALIVE).
- COMMON PHRASES to someone would not be 'how's it going?' but 'how you going?" In a retail shop once staring at items I was comparing in my head a shop worker came over to me and said "Are you okay???" I thought she thought I was zoning out on drugs or something when really she was asking me, basically, "can I help you with anything?" THANK YOU CAN BE SAID IN MANY WAYS: "You're alright mate," or "Too easy," or "we're laughing," or "no worries mate."
- TOILETS: do not flush in the opposite direction from the Northern Hemisphere , but more in a raging way BLAST water from front to back or front to back like a geyser exploding. There are also two buttons on most toilets; 1 for a little bit of water (conservation) and the 2nd for a lot of water. Sanitary toilet seat covers do not exist, anywhere.
- MONEY: Tipping is almost nonexistent and not expected anywhere. There is no sales tax in any state. Betting on horses and greyhounds is available in, I would say, 1 out of 3 pubs, and can be watched and paid right then and there; 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. 1 dollar bills do not exist. The two dollar coin is smaller than the one dollar coin. Money can disappear extremely fast in Australia and if the normal casual working rate wasn't around $20 an hour, no one could afford to live here.
- HEALTHCARE: Universal and affordable, even if you are not on Medicade (for example to see a doctor is is only $60 to $100 and around a 30 minute wait on a walk in depending what city you are in). As a traveler with no insurance I once saw a doctor, had my finger lanced (infection), and was written two prescriptions that I picked up and paid for right downstairs...the whole thing cost me $130 and took 50 minutes.
- ALCOHOL: Beer is the coldest I have ever seen or tasted in the world. The taps are iced over like they have been frozen with liquid nitrogen (if you put your tongue to it it would definitely get stuck like Christmas Story). Beer pride goes by by what state it is from. For example, in South Australia everyone drinks Coopers (my favorite beer in Australia) but you may find yourself in Victoria and they love "VB" or you could be in New South Wales and they love their Tooheys, XXXX Gold in Queensland, etc. What I have learned that on a hot summer day in Australia, any of them ice cold are good :)
- PEOPLE: Women major in minor things, men care more about hanging with their mates than being with their women. This is the only generalization I am going to make as stereotyping cultures as you have noticed is not really my thing.
- ECONOMY: Great. Go there to work, live, and travel and you will have an amazing time.

SYDNEY IS SO LAID BACK AS AN INTERNATIONAL 'BIG CITY' IT IS UNBELIEVABLE. I have never seen one taxi cab have a plexi-glass partition wall in it and all of the cabs are normal mid sized sedans where you feel like you are hitchhiking in the back seat of some one's personal car. I have never seen a fight anywhere, anytime (keep in mind if you saw Kings Cross where I live you would think I have seen many...I haven't). I have never seen a gun shop and don't even know if they sell them over here. Normal work weeks at a company on average are around 37 or 38 hours max. If you are running late due to a train being late, for example, your boss will not talk to you (I have had 3 different bosses since I have been here) and say anything about it or come down on you. Drinks at offices on Fridays towards the end of the day are not only allowed, but a lot of times encouraged. People don't freak out if they miss the subway. I missed one this morning and starting laughing on how unfortunate my morning had gone and sat down to read for 9 minutes until the next train came. People work to live here, they don't live to work like some other cultures in the world. I have never seen anyone getting arrested. I have never/ever felt that I should watch my pockets while I go through a train station. I have never felt in danger. I can go to the bathroom at this bar that I am typing these very words in right now and leave my laptop on the table, unattended and not think twice about my belongings being stolen. Overall, I have really only ran into 2 negative people in Sydney that just haven't figured it our in life yet...one was a general practitioner and the other was a subway patrolman. Other than them/that, this city if I were to describe in a handful of adjectives would be that it is vibrant, eclectic, laid back, and has a very good healthy and metropolitan PULSE. Great adventures, RCM

South Australia

2011-05-02T03:05:00.002-07:00

OCS STUD FARM CONSISTS OF AROUND 30 HORSES, 6 GOATS, 2 DOGS, AND A COUPLE DOZEN CATTLE. And 4 humans of course to control the chaos. OCS stands for Orange Court Stables and there are no orange trees around so I don't know why Mark (the owner) named it that. My good friends Cassidy and Dave and I all work for accommodation, food, and wine. Our boss' name is Thorin Bailey, a late 20s seasoned Australian, who goes by the nickname "Tubs." Our daily activities range from feeding the horses (hay or hard feeds - buckets with grains/straw/minerals/corn/seeds/etc), landscaping (building a garden/building a chicken coop/weeding/etc), and moving horses and cattle around the paddocks depending on what is planned for them. OCS is a stud farm in that it has one stallion (stud) who for 3 months out of the year 'serves' mares that come from all around Australia for his sperm. Apparently he has a 67% win rate with his blood line which is unheard of in the racing industry. The stud is named Gallo and he has one eye.

Yes, one eyeball only; sooooo you can just picture when he serves a mare and his tongue is out and he has his head cocked to one side just one-eyein it. FIREWORKS I am sure and let me tell you, after working for 2 months on this farm, I am happy to get out with minor scrapes and cuts. You see, all the horses on the farm are young (under 5 years) and are not broken in and barely know what a human being is. So even feeding I have come very close to getting kicked or 'double barrelled' (horse stands on front legs and kicks you with his/her back two). It is starting to get cold here and rain more so feeding at dusk is very dangerous because these horses are going ape shit over the food (they are cold and hungry at night) and going hay wire over the changing weather. 'Electric' is the best word I can describe their demeanor in the last week or so. But you simply remember your ninja skills and the time you spent working/riding/galloping horses in the Boy Scouts and you manage to get out without any broken ribs. I always keep these bitches in front of me and maneuver the 4 wheeler/trailer in a way that I can get their feed bins and zoom off so I don't have 7 untrained wild horses surrounding my trailer and fighting to eat out of the buckets. Heart raced a few times but still never got kicked or bitten...knock on wood.

GELDING DAY FOR 4 OF THE COLTS WAS A VERY INTERESTING EXPERIENCE TO SAY THE LEAST. This stud farm can only have one stud on it or else there would be 'rooting' (South Australian for sexual intercourse) go on everywhere and the hormones in the colts would conflict with Gallo and the next thing you know you would have Gallo chasing down young 2 year old teenager-type horses and break through thick wooden fences to get to them. This almost happened on gelding day when the vet came to collect 8 testicles. We put the 4 colts in Gallo's paddock because it has the most green grass and when you "drop" the horses you want the ground/grass to be nice and padded/fluffy. Because when they 'drop', THEY DROP.

Until you see castration live you don't realize how lucky us boys are! The 4th horse named Barbie was a NIGHTMARE. Barbie is a boy and got his name because during a storm last year ran through a wooden fence, an electric fence, and then a barbed wire fence (barbed wire fence = Barbie). Okay so anyway, Barbie is not liking the lead rope and Tubs is fighting with him to just get him to walk. Rearing up, kicking, trying to run, Barbie was not a happy camper and was not going to go into the grassy area where his 3 buddies just had their nuts clipped. I don't blame him. Barbie proceeds to almost get a side kick on Tubs and Tubs has to let go of lead rope and it snapped whip lashed like a tow rope on a car breaking off suddenly. So now, Barbie is running around this yard with a 10 foot snake chasing him and at his feet (the lead rope they think is a snake). We are all trying to corner him but Barbie decides he has had enough and wants to change his name to Fencey. Just when things couldn't get more crazy, our good buddy Gallo starts running up and down his fence line trying to get to this little punk teenager to attack him. I look over and truly thought Gallo was going to break through that wooden fence. He didn't, instead, This little man ran (Barbie) and attempted to jump over a metal fence/gate that was keeping him in the yard. He failed miserably. Barbie, or Gatey I guess lol, poor guy, hit his chest on the gate and fell over it on his head and then the rest of his very heavy body came crashing to the ground. I remember the farm went silent for a moment and our jaws were all dropped. Then a quick bit of MAYHEM as Barbie is now getting up to run for the open gate that leads out to the road. Not good. Dave and I leaped over this fence as Tubs is screaming "the gate the gate, come around on him, beat him to that gate!" Okay, so, you want me to outrun a horse that is bred to win money in racing cups? Cool, no problem. Good thing I have been running on the farm and staying fit (yeah right this helped) or else Barbie might have become Roadey haha. We did beat him to the fence thanks to the fact he was totally rattled from fouling that gate jump so badly. Crazy quarter horses...all we wanted him to do was WALK forward...that...and...take away his manhood jewels! Damn, looking back, I think if I were him I would have jumped off of a 3 story building to get away from the veterinarian that day. Any guy would. Oh yeah, we fed the balls to Honey and Lily for dinner (the farm dogs - more on them later).

HORSE AND GREYHOUND RACING IS EXTREMELY POPULAR AND A MAJOR PART OF THE AUSTRALIAN CULTURE. If this ability to bet at the pub was available to us in college in the States we would have gone broke and spent more years to graduate. You know how you spend money on Buck Hunter and Golden Tee and other bullshit games in bars that you play to pass time? Well, now imagine you are at the races in Del Mar betting on horses and they are in your bar running for you in a private setting. Every day, from when the pub opens, to the late evening, you are able to bet in Australia on 3 different types of races; gallops (normal horse racing), trots (harness races with those weird little carts the jockeys sit in), and greyhounds. It is ridiculous. Like being in a sportsbook in Vegas. Beers, betting slips, music, and LIVE results of races from AROUND THE WORLD are available pretty much every 5 to 10 minutes for you to wager on.

PICKING RED WINE GRAPES IS A VERY INTERESTING WAY TO MAKE $17 AN HOUR. The region I was in is called Mclaren Vale and is the area that a majority of all the shiraz wines come from in Southeast Australia (like that Yellow Tail you drank last week from the super market). It was gorgeous. Similar to Napa Valley in California with luscious rolling green hills of vines and gum trees. Kangaroos would hop around the roads we would take in and out of work. Wake up time was 5:30am, tea, some toast, and bundle and don't forget your booties cuz its cold out there (still dark out and brisk). Everyone meets at this oval (sports field and public park) to sign in and figure out which group you are with for that day (usually around 3 groups of 20 to 30 people) and what car to follow. Picture a bunch of headlights of campervans and silhouettes of humans meandering around on gravel all wishing they were back in their warm beds. Once again, the Americans are the minority. Everyone was French. Now there are two things to note about the French when grape picking. 1; they don't listen and nod their head yes even though have no idea what the contractors are telling them. 2; They all smoke cigarettes like it is going out of style. A lot of times I would have to yell at one of them who started picking in my section "post to post!" we Americans would yell and they would say sorry and move on. You see, you and a partner attack the vine from both sides (some of theses things can be super thick and dense) and you move from post to post so that no section goes unpicked (sections usually about 20 feet long). The French don't understand this. we even later tried to figure out what the word 'post' was in French so we could communicate and it actually was the same spelling; 'post.' So...how in the world DID THEY NOT UNDERSTAND WHEN WE WOULD SAY "POST TO POST"??? Funniest communication breakdown yet on these travels. It made laugh multiple times and still makes me smile picturing some of their faces when we would tell them 'post to post!' The other thing is at times I would stand up and look down the rolling green vineyard and all it was all white people harvesting. Where roughly a 3rd of my life was spent in Southern California I am used to seeing illegal immigrants (usually from Mexico) doing this type of labour, it wasn't the case in Australia. All of us pickers were caucasians and we actually made decent money for not too intensive of work. You get $17 an hour but if you work hard and pick at "bucket rate" you can make well more than that (one day I made around $75 in an afternoon where we picked for only 2.5 hours. The picking is the interesting part. Some days go slow and some would fly by. Headphones WERE A MUST. Layers of clothes would come out throughout the day and some afternoons were hot and clear and crisp and a song like Creedence Clearwater's 'Someday Never Comes' or Slightly Stoopids 'Wiseman' would come on and I would stop what I was doing and just stand up, look out on the winery/vineyard/rolling hills and think to myself; "this is awesome, things could be worse." Some vines would be dense and thick, some were small and chest height. Every vine seemed to have its own personality and every bunch of grape felt important and expensive as they were going to go on to produce some of the best vintage wine in the world. I can tell you that after doing weeks of grape picking (shiraz, cabernet, and merlot), I have a much higher appreciation for the red wine process and will always know I have worked literally 'on the ground level' to help yield some of the most popular wines on this planet. Thank you Mclaren Vale you were beautiful and will be missed.

THE FARM LIFE LIVING IN GENERAL WAS AWESOME AND WONDERFUL EXPERIENCE. While I loved being around the horses (been since middle school since I rode every summer in the Scouts), the two farm dogs, Honey and Lily, were my favorite. One was a blend of dingo and yellow lab and kelpy (Honey Bear) and Lily was a black border collie with touches of white on her fur. They were the cutest, nicest, sweetest, and well trained dogs I think I have ever had the pleasure of being around. You could talk to them almost as if they understood what I was saying. To get them to jump in or out of the trailer on the back of the quad (4 wheeler), you could simply say "in ya get", or "come on" and they would jump in or out. Sometimes honey would ride in the milk crate basket that was strapped to the front of Honey 4 wheeler. Honey bear was the queen of the farm and sometimes would bark at the horses to protect me while feeding. Besides being kicked by a horse and ran over by a car (hurt her shoulder), Honey (and obviously Lily) were always part of my daily chores and, as they would call, "man's best friend" for those two months I spent on the farm.

THE OWNER OF OUR FARM IS ALSO THE 'OUTSIDE GUY' AT A LARGE WINERY IN MCLAREN VALE. His name was Mark Conroy and was a well traveled and knowledgeable South Australian. Client base from Asia to America to Europe and named wines after horses and horses after wine kind of guy. He was always bringing over free ($30 to $50) bottles of red and white wines to keep our fridge stocked. The slaves (as we called ourselves) on most nights would cook dinner and retire to our "slave quarters" (as I nicknamed) on the north end of the farm house where we could have a fire in the hearth to stay warm, watch movies, and listen to jazz music. There were only 2 compact discs given to the slaves and they were Jazz After Midnight 1 AND 2. I absolutely loved those cd's and some nights would fall asleep next to, what I soon called, "The Jazz Machine" on the carpet. Couldn't tell you one name of one song or one artist...all I can tell you is that Jazz After Midnight was very soothing to the soul...especially after a night of drinking at Jacko's villa.

R. JACKSON (NICKNAMED JACKO) WAS A RETIRED 52 YEAR OLD SOUTH AUSTRALIAN WHO LIVED UP THE STREET FROM US. A real pleasure to be around this man as he was very intelligent and had so many stories and takes on life that we would just sit there and listen while asking inquisitive questions. Topics from 9/11, to politics, to finance, to farming, to wines, to beer, to coffee, you name it, Jacko would have a tip on it. He loved to talk and our eager minds were eager to listen. Jacko also loved to drink beer and wine. Loved to put down drinks in a very fun and social way. Some nights while us slaves had just 'settled in for long winters nap' post dinner and were comfy with our fire and wine, Jacko would show up out of the blue and have us running around to get ready to head to his house to 'try out a new toy.' Jacko that day had bought a portable (with rollers) kegerator that could hold two different types of kegs of beer and had two taps on top. ICE COLD. I think he said it was around $750 but well worth it as it was plug-n-play ready where as if you tried to build one on your own buying all the parts separately it would cost the same amount if not more including the labor you put in. Sounds good to me. So now, just when the slaves thought they had it bad with free wine at the farm, we have a local retired ex party animal who wants to feed us free beer. I forgot to mention the beers were 'you brew it' style where you could mirror the same recipes of major worldwide beers. For example one night we were on Newcastle while another night we were on Pilsner Urquell. As my friend on the farm Cassidy would say "SHWEET!" Some nights Jacko would get us, as a South Australian would say, "pissed as a mute" and we wouldn't remember him taking us back to our house. Jazz machine, at this point, I LOVE YOU ;) Jacko also had a pet alpaca, similar to a lama. Its name was Frodo and he had been hand fed by Jacko and his wife since it was a kid. This thing would always come and see what I was up to when I would work on Jacko's property (pulling branches to a burn pile, yanking bad olive trees, project work, etc). A very curious fellow Frodo was. He would let you know if he like you by putting his camel-like snout up inside your neck. Frodo and I were buds, I would constantly talk to him while working and when entering his paddock at times would yell out "Frooooooooooooodoooooooooooooooo!" to call him over. He would always look up at me with the most confused, yet interested look you have ever seen. Sure enough he would start trotting over to see what I was up to. Frodo:

ONE NIGHT WE WERE GIVEN A PRIVATE/CUSTOM/EXCLUSIVE TASTING OF THE PIRRAMIMMA WINERY BY MARK (OWNER OF THE FARM). This was one of the coolest things I have ever had the opportunity to do. While we have all wine tasted from cellar door to cellar door and it is fun and all, a private showing is WAY DIFFERENT. Yes, to start, in the cellar door, we had the initial tastings of all the different wines (10 to 15 types) like a normal customer would get..but then...to the factory and to the barrels. Next thing I know we are climbing ladders and weaving through what felt like a labyrinth of oak barrels. He made us smell things and feel things and taste things and explained the process all at the same time. He also had this 'dipstick' type thing that he could stick down into the barrel so that he could get wine out for us. We were sitting on barrels of wine that have been there for decades, taking pictures, learning a ton of information.

The problem is REMEMBERING this information haha. At one point we were in the laboratory seeing how they add components, make changes, experiment, etc. It looked like a workplace room for Mr. Wizard. We were so behind the scenes I felt like we could get in trouble. We didn't; we were with Mark Conroy, the man of the hour. He was incredibly funny and witty and at one point told the American women I was with (mom and friends of Cassidy who came to visit her and David) that the reason that wine tastes like an olive is because they put an entire olive tree in the vat with the grapes. The whole tree lol. One of them said "really, that is amazing." My cheeks hurt from laughing so hard that night. So, just when you think the experience couldn't get any better. We are leaving the winery and run into a Lionel Ritchie concert that had just got out. At this point I am singing to these people walking down the road from our motorhome Richie's undisputed best hit single "Dancing On The Ceiling." It was great.

LAST DAY OF THE FARM WAS THE ONE OF THE MOST INTERESTING WAKEUPS I HAVE EVER HAD. Besides the above picture which was not a wakeup, but more a 'go to bed' (opened the sliding glass door to go to the bathroom and this LITTLE GUY decided he wanted to cut me off and entered the house inches from my fingers), the experiences get a tad bit more rattling. After my last night with my friends Sam and Dez at their house for bbq, red wine, and guitar hero, I was loving a nice sleep in on the last day I had on the farm. Around 10am or so, while loving the fact that Tubs had let the dogs in to come in and sleep with me on my last morning on the farm, I get a loud knock on my door and a "McLeod, we need you brother we have a cow that is birth and we can't get the calf out and we think they are going to die, please come help if you can, quick!" JUMPED OUT of bed and threw my boots on and ran down to the lower cattle paddock and sure enough there was Big Red's (we nicknamed her) daughter, Little Red, laying on the ground with her baby's snout and two hooves sticking out of her about 18 inches. Ropes are tied to the calf's hooves and us three men are PULLING AS HARD AS WE CAN like a tug of war from hell. My job at one point was to wrap a rope around my hand 7 or 8 times and tie it to the leg of the mother and hold the leg up so it would spread the hips to get this little guy out. This is where I realized that even though a cow may be big and clumsy and slow, THEY ARE STRONG AS ALL HELL. The mom kicked a couple of times, knocking me over, and later Tubs told me you are lucky you still have some of your fingers. Um...yeah. So, this story doesn't have a happy ending. Us three couldn't even get this calf to even budge. The emergency vet showed up and started to use this metal tool reverse tourniquet type thing to winch the calf out and press away from the mother but it only got the baby out half way. The hips are what ended up costing this poor little thing's life. Couldn't get the calf's hips out so had to go to plan B and sacrifice the calf to hopefully save the mother. The calf had to be cut in half at the torso, and then its legs cut down the middle to be removed. When I got back from town that day the trailer on the 4 wheeler had 2 legs and upper torso of a calf already going into rigor mortis. Slightly disturbing to say the least. But I guess you have to go back to an ol' saying they say in farming, "when you have livestock, you have deadstock." I can only hope the mother eventually got up from her calving paralysis or she will have to be put down as well. Apparently she was way too young to be having children (only 1 year old) and it might have taken her life...that, or she won't ever go near the bull that knocked her up again haha. Slightly bittersweet ending to what has been an incredible experience and adventure on the farm lands of South Australia. RCM

Sydney Harbour Bridge & Great Ocean Road

2011-05-02T03:05:00.001-07:00

AFTER TRAVELING ALONE FOR 6 MONTHS, IT IS WONDERFUL TO SEE YOUR MOTHER AND FATHER. My lovely Mom and Dad came to visit me in Australia and also to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. Congrats again you guys! I waved goodbye to the outstanding 2 weeks spent in Byron Bay and hopped a quick flight to Sydney. One switch of terminals and there I was to see my folks come walking right out of customs. God bless world airplane travel at this point right? So nice to see them. For one, when you travel alone, the TIME that goes by seems like ages when you don't see people you are close to (i.e. family and friends); secondly, the appreciation for these people (close to you) goes up ten fold due to being by yourself for so long. You start to look back on the last 20 years of your life and realize how much your parents and siblings have done for you financially, socially, mentally, and emotionally. Your hugs become longer. I kiss my mother on the lips more than I used to as a kid. Your talks with your father become more in depth and meaningful. YOU PAY ATTENTION TO HOW SPECIAL FAMILY IS. This career break and choice to travel the world I made is paying dividends when it comes to how I view how special family and friends are to oneself. Truly awesome and my heart goes out to anyone who has lost someone close to them (i.e. Laura I met from Spain in Byron Bay who was in a car crash with her 2 sisters and both her mother and father died when she was 5). She was one of the strongest girls I have ever met and pretty much watered my eyes a bit when she told me this story. We don't know how lucky we are sometimes. So lucky.

"WE IN SYDNEY BABY!" was one of my favorite quotes I have ever seen on Facebook and I saw it right before New Years Eve 2010 by my friend from Cairns, Annabel. I always liked the excitement it had to it and wondered if I would have the same excitement when I got to this world renowned international city. I did. My folks and I checked in to the Marriot in Circular Quay (thank you Mom and Dad for the timeshare trade!) for 5 nights and were loving every minute of it. We city explored by day and tried different restaurants and bars by night. We could see the Sydney Harbour Bridge from our room. It was such a great setting to catch up and be a family (Sean we wish you were there!) on vacation. Instead of getting lost and losing a ton of money on public transportation, we paid for this double decker Sydney Tour big red bus thing that let us jump on and off at all the main Sydney attractions; Sydney Opera House, The Rocks, Sydney Harbour Bridge, Kings Cross, Darling Harbour, etc. While I know you would love to be bored with detailed descriptions of all of these places, I will only focus on one: The Sydney Harbour Bridge.

CLIMBING THE SYDNEY HARBOUR BRIDGE WAS ONE OF THE MOST EXHILARATING THINGS I HAVE EVER DONE. First of all you wonder why its costs $198. $200 bucks to climb a bridge? Huh? Its just a bridge isn't it?? Ryan McLeod is here to tell you IT IS NOT JUST A BRIDGE AND IS WORTH EVERY PENNY. You get there early for your briefing in the morning and start poking around the lobby and see photos of celebrities and random people from all around the world doing all types of things at the top of the bridge (kissing, wedding proposals, famous comedians being funny, etc). You are soon taken into this small room and asked to strip off everything that could fall off while scaling the structure; wallets, watches, rings, bracelets, earrings, etc. My father and I chose the 'just underwear underneath' route rather than wearing some bulky pants or shorts under the coveralls they give you. You are the taken to another room where you are searched with a metal detector to make sure you have not hidden anything in your climbing suit. Metal detectors? What the hell did I sign up for here? We are just going up a few steps to see a view right? What is going on here Sydney Bridgeclimb people? You are then taken into another room and given a radio headset that allows you to communicate with your Bridgeclimb leader. Headsets? Okay, this is getting intense. Then you are taken into a room where you are given a practice replica ladder system of what it will be like when getting up to the first stage of the climb. You hook in to this runner system so if you fall you won't die. Oh yeah, I forgot, in the first room, you are breathalyzed for alcohol too. BREATHALYZED! Why does alcohol matter if I am wired in and can't fall off the bridge? Lets put it this way, Ryan is getting a bit anxious at this point.

THE FIRST STAGE OF THE BRIDGE CLIMB IS ALMOST MORE SCARY THAN BEING AT THE TOP. It is that height level I have talked to others about in the same realm of heights (skydived, bungee jumped, cliff jumped, etc) that makes your legs a bit weary. Weary to say the least when you look down and the metal grating you are walking on is 2 inches thick and HAS HOLES IN IT. While it is only around a hundred feet up at this point you start getting that shaky real life "oh shit if I fell right here" cringe in your mind that can sometimes make the hair on the back of your neck stand up or make your heart race. Mine was a small combination of both. Alright, at this point you might think I am being a sissy...let me remind you people I have jumped out of planes at 14,000 feet, bungee jumped off towers, ran with the bulls, scubadived at night with sharks, and jumped off of bridges at 60 feet into water, etc., but for some reason this climb up this steel structure somehow gets your fear factor to a 7 out of 10. I think it is the slow ascension or something. It is an unbelievably awesome fear that I think a lot of people that climb it have no idea would come and hit them. While you go through these different ladders and steps and then start up the main stairs your Bridgeclimb leader is talking to you about the history of the bridge and give you fun facts and features of the bridge. I don't really remember much of what she said except for the parts of "this is where 44 people the first year jumped off to kill themselves." Funny what your mind picks up when you are in a fearful situation. Dying. Anyway, my father and I scaled this son of a bitch all the way to the top and it was PRICELESS. Taking in the 360 degree view of this special international city they call Sydney was something out of a novel that hasn't been written yet (climbing the bridge a pretty new thing). A few pictures later with the Sydney Opera House in the background it was time for the dreaded CROSSOVER. You see you go up the bridge on one side and then descend on the other meaning you have to cross over the middle of it and over the freeway with cars and trains ZOOMING ACROSS IT. Looking down was something you didn't want to do but still did anyway. My God it was scary as all hell but at the same time, a good scary. A very good scary. I'll put it this way, the beer at lunch that day seemed to go down a bit faster and smoother than it would on any other day. What a once in a lifetime, highly recommended.

THE NEXT BEST HIGHLIGHT OF THIS HOLIDAY WAS DRIVING THE GREAT OCEAN ROAD. We rented a car in Melbourne and headed south to Geelong where we stopped in at a I center, or Information Center. These are abundant in Australia and much respect to the Australian government on their efficient tourism help and great road signage. I don't think we ever got lost once and we drover over 1000km. Exceptional. Mind you I did run the rental car over a curb within the first two minutes of driving the car out of the lot (spatial dimensions off a bit when you are driving on the right side of the car) and almost killed a biker in the CBD (Central Business District) on the way to our hotel. Anyway, back to the Great Ocean Road. THIS THING WAS SPECIAL. Can't put my finger on it but it has to do with the changes of scenery you go through during your trek. Rolling green cliffs (like the Oregon Coast) to smaller foliage and towns (like Malibu, CA), to huge orange and red and yellow cliffs that enormous (like something I have never scene). While the 12 apostles were cool and all, the Bay of Martyrs and the Bay of Islands were WAY better. Underlooked, undertraveled, underestimated, you name it. At a couple of those stops we were the only people on the lookout point. Sun was setting and hitting these Halloween-colored cliffsides that were HUGE and we were the only ones around to see it. Awesome, simply awesome. We stayed in a couple of small towns on the road (Apollo Bay and Woornambool) and found ourselves in places that you would only picture in a Hemingway novel. Here is the best way I can some up the Great Ocean Road and why it was so spectacular...a photo I took that was featured as the photo of the day on a large photography website; another great adventure and part of the world, RCM:

Byron Bay

2011-05-02T03:05:00.000-07:00

JUST HALFWAY THROUGH MY 2 MONTH HOLIDAY I FIND MYSELF again being let out of a motor vehicle (shuttle bus in this case) in a city where I have never been and know no one. All I know is the voice(s) at reception at the Backpackers Inn in Byron Bay, New South Wales that I told was coming. I can remember walking down the street in the dark and feeling a comforting cold gust of wind hit my face and know that I was in a good place, good city, good part of the world. Queensland is, for now, history. I remember seeing a Backpackers Inn flyer in my reception in Cairns (those really slow mornings where I would wander around reception and read pretty much every flyer and brochure we sold). It was the only place I knew to stay in Byron Bay besides what I could find on the internet. But who wants to have to use the internet?! Internet-less travel is growing on me. Anyhoo, due to them and us being friendly hostels and having each other's flyers in each other's reception, they were able to give me a 4 bed share with a balcony for $20 a night. I paid for 2 weeks immediately upon hearing the great news that I was basically getting my accommodation for 50% off.

YOU HEAR A TON ABOUT HOW GREAT BYRON BAY IS BEFORE YOU GET THERE. Everyone seems to always say "Oh my god I love Byron Bay I am trying to get back there,"...or..."Byron is AMAZING,"...or..."Holy shit, dude, MAKE SURE you make it Byron Bay and go to Nimbin." Let me be the first to tell you that the all the hype lives up to itself and this little beach town is cool as all hell. While being from one of the best beach towns in America and living there for 4 years (miss you San Diego friends!), you wonder what could make this particular surf town so cool. I can't really put my finger on it but I what I can tell you is that nights would go for example, from a calm and collective dinner at a bar to dancing on the same tables (you ate on) hours later to some internationally known song classics with 2 Spanish Girls and an Italian girl

and many pictures are being taken. The night spirals back to your accommodation that has hammocks and direct 24 hour private beach access to the Pacific ocean. Tons of fires at night with other travelers and guys and girls of all ages from all around the world. The evenings were always ABUZZ around 6 or 7pm as people would start showering in the communal showers, drinking, getting dinner out of the way, etc. We would party and socialize at Backpackers Inn until 10:30pm which was quiet time and then everyone would head out to go dancing. While this didn't happen every night it did seem to happen a lot :) I changed crews of people a few times during that two weeks. First it was the English, then it morphed into the Spanish...then it combined into the Dutch/French/Canadian/American group. Days were filled with multiple beach visits, swimming, napping, reading, surfing, and writing. I didn't really have any touristy things to do while in Byron...the only two things that I put on the must do list were; going to Nimbin to buy souvenirs; go up to the lighthouse to watch the sunrise (thank you Selina Gray). I am thankful to say I was able to check both these off the list with much pleasure.

NIMBIN IS A LAUGHABLE STREET IN THE MIDDLE OF NOTHING THAT IS TRAPPED IN THE 1970S. The best way I describe it to people is "a township (street basically) that is stuck in the 'drum circle' stage of government upheaval and extremely passionate about the legalization of marijuana." One sees Nimbin in less than 2 hours and you are ready to leave. The street is lined with strange local people that look like muts of societal flaws and mishaps yet have a small wink of happiness in themselves. LOL, now that I think about it they are very similar to the nialists, or Germans, in the movie The Big Lebowski that tell The Dude that they "belieevs in nussing Lebowski, nussing!" I bought some Nimbin souvenirs on the streets and in these small little shops. Bought a patch for my backpack, a postcard with a smiley face on it saying some nonsense about Nimbin or something, and some other items I can't remember...Anyway, Nimbin is a must do if you are ever in northern New South Wales. Some days I can just randomly think about the fact that Nimbin actually exists on this earth and it will make me laugh out loud. It has made me laugh twice while writing this paragraph. After Nimbin, our group (English squad at this point) went to a waterfall and swimming hole to cool off and take a dip. It was refreshing, cold, crisp, and needed.

GOING TO THE LIGHTHOUSE AND THE MOST EASTERLY POINT OF AUSTRALIA at 5am and watching the sunrise was an incredible morning/experience. Rather than attempting to get up at 4am and hike 2 hours up a decently large hill/point I opted to stay up all night after going out to the pubs and wrote til 5am and had a taxi driver launch me up there in the dark quiet hours of 4:30am. I packed my Nikon D5000 DSLR, my tripod, a polarized lens filter, some cookies and crackers, my mp3 player/headphones, and a bag of wine (the good shiraz cabernet's come in bags over here :) ). I hiked up to the lighthouse from where the taxi dropped me off (as far as a car could go up at that hour) and was very entranced by the overwhelming view down to the wave crashing cliffs of the Pacific. Time to go to work as a travel photographer; I hiked around side trails along the cliffs edge under the moonlight reflecting off the top layer of the ocean. I found a nice lower spot a bit down from the lighthouse to setup my camera on the tripod.

I set to take a photo every 10 seconds for an hour from 5am to 6am; a timelapse of 360 separate shots of the sun rising facing east off the horizon. This is the stuff I live for friends and family. So I am set for the shot with my Nikon so I ventured down a bit to use relieve myself of the many beers I drank with my good Spanish girlfriends that night. On the way back up I came up over this hills railing and right in front of my face about 10 feet away from me is a silhouette of a pagan symbol that has appeared in the sky and I rub my eyes to see if what I am seeing is real or not. Staring and staring this black strange figure of the night the outline begins to move. I begin to shape out a head a ears and horns of this image and realize it is alive. Being the only one around miles in any direction, my new only friend was this image in front of me; a mountain billy goat. He climbed all the way up the cliff to come see what I was up to and for about, no kidding, 10 minutes we stood and stared at each other without moving or breathing. It was of my favorite memories thus far in my travels and while I felt small on this earth at that moment, the billy goat seemed to reassure me that even in the loneliest spots of this magnificent globe, a friendly energy is always right around the corner. There I was on the most easternly point of Australia as our Sun rises up to warm my face in the cool coastal morning. I just sat back, listened to music, and had some red wine with crackers periodically as our star peeked up over the end of the world. Below you can see in the distance the sleepiness of a quiet tanker headed south. The mental transcending going on at that point was indescribable. I am so glad I made the decision to travel the other side of the world for a bit. Great adventure, RCM

"Don't Forget to PULL..."

2011-05-02T03:03:00.000-07:00

I JUST LEFT RAINBOW BEACH IN A REDONE TOYOTA CRUISER SHUTTLE VAN with the owners of the skydive tandem locations in Rainbow Beach and Coolum on the Sunshine Coast. One of their dad's has ran and owns the longest/largest/#1 skydive school in Australia. Guess where I am going? To this school in the middle of nowhere, called Ramblers, to do my first 3 'Introductory' Course Skydives. It is funny how the wind blows you around as a traveler. I started to itch to leave Rainbow; almost booked a Greyhound to Byron Bay, almost went north to sail the Whitsunday Islands, almost went back onto Fraser Island for a free trip (since our weather was so bad). I then started researching getting certified in something that I could do as I travel the world. Scuba Diving box already ticked. Surfing box ticked (at least learning how to do it, but I can see how it takes years of getting pounded by Mother to really 'tick' that box). I have two weeks to burn before my parents land in Sydney. What should I do? SKYDIVING!. Remembering back to Interlaken Switzerland 7 years ago with my good bloke Brian Hayden and how awesome jumping out of plane in the Swiss Alps (although back then I was afraid of heights) was and how recently over the Great Barrier Reef I was excited and stoked for the jump and loved the tranquility of when the canopy opened, I realized that I want to be able to do this on my own wherever I go in the world.

I START RESEARCHING COMPANIES AND TALKING TO PEOPLE AND SENDING EMAILS. Long story short, the guy I talked to at Ramblers over the phone a few days ago randomly showed up in the PeterPans (travel agent adjacent to hostel) in Rainbow Beach where I was on the internet (I overheard him talking to Kate about the new ownership, etc). Asked if they do instruction and at that moment we realized we just talked two days ago and re-affirmed that he was a Sundevil from ASU and I was Husky from UW. Marius proceeds to Facebook me that the owners will be in Rainbow Beach tomorrow and would give me a ride to Ramblers in Toogoolawah and put me up with free accommodation in the bunkhouse and to call Susie. I can't understand how things go your way so well sometimes. Gotta love it. Susie was awesome and not only said they would pick me up and drive me hours south with them in their killer 'busser' (converted into a camper) but also that they would find me a way onward south to get to Byron Bay or farther if need be. Apparently there are 3 birthdays of good skydive culture friends of theirs this weekend and a lot of 'jump heads' will be their and I will be able to party with some kickass people and see some very cool jumps. As I type this I am in the Coolum Beach Bowling Club (lawn bowling for old farts...what a BEEHIVE of activity these places are) drinking beer and have to be back to the skydive shop by 6pm so we can continue south to Toogoolawah. What an adventure this is going to be...

TOOGOOLAWAH, OR 'TOOGS,' ENDED UP BEING A TINY TOWN in the middle of green farmlands with a population of nothing. 2 pubs, 1 post office-type place. As promised I was given a ride by Susie and her husband from Rainbow Beach. They were awesome and answered tons of questions I had. They even put me up in their home for that first night because it was too late to head to Toogs that late. Such nice people Australians are. Driving through the countryside it was UNBELIEVABLE the evidence of the damage of the Queensland floods. Trees and rivers looked like a muddy bathtub that was filled to the brim. Foliage flattened, houses flooded, people losing everything. It was sad to see and again, I was so thankful to be stranded in Rainbow Beach during that time. We pulled in to this rickety old farm house looking place called RAMBLERS. Ramblers is the longest running drop zone for skydiving instruction in the entire country of Australia. Right away I realized I had come to the right place. 30+ years of experience to show me how to jump out of planes by myself. I couldn't have been more excited, nervous, crazy, and lucky all at the same time. See if you can see the plane in the middle of this picture below...that is what you jump out of...

RATHER THAN BORING YOU AGAIN ON WHAT SKYDIVING IS LIKE, I will briefly try and paint a picture of the AFF (Accelerated Free Fall Course) Stage 1, 2, & 3 that I paid $1035 for entails. All jumps are from 14,000 feet and video taped to help teach you skills. You have classroom time before each jump with a guy (my teacher was Bengy) who has jumped out of planes somewhere around 10,000 times. Yes, 10,000 times. Hard to believe. Glad this guy's with me. Jump 1 is tandem where basically you pull a fake handle (thing that deploys your parachute) at 5,000 feet but the instructor actually pulls it. Then, you are to look up at the canopy and count to 6 (one thousand one...one thousand two...etc) as you look for MALFUNCTIONS. The classroom portion of learning about malfunctions is just as scary as the jump. Malfunctions can be a twisted line, a streamer, half deployed canopy, no slider coming down to you, 2nd parachute deployed with your main chute, etc. Watching the videos of these problems in the classroom before these jumps is absolutely terrifying. Jump 2 is BY YOURSELF with a couple of instructors around you that help you exit the plane and make sure you know where your handle is so you can deploy while traveling 120 MPH six thousand feet from the ground. FRIGHTENING to say the least. Jump 3 is the same thing but you actually disconnect from the instructors and start learning to 'turn' during freefall and how to perfect your feet and arms so you are in control of your fall. Crazy friends and family, it was absolutely crazy. It was absolutely worth every penny I spent. Tandem skydiving is fun and games but when you are in charge of pulling your own chute and landing in a drop zone that looks like the size of your thumbnail from that high up, you reiterate to yourself that you are alive and you are surviving. Landing is more dangerous than the actual jump. Finding the DZ (drop zone) after your chute catches air is a bit nerve racking as every field looks the same from 5,000 feet. You remember your training and look for landmarks (thank you sewage station) that guide you to where you will be landing yourself back on to the Earth. Wind, trees, powerlines, human error are all part of the fun when landing in skydiving and let me tell you had a I not army rolled on my 2nd landing by myself I would have really hurt my ankle and/or knees pretty bad. Ground can seem to rush up on you faster than you think.

THE WEEKEND WAS A BLAST BECAUSE THERE WERE THREE 30 YEAR OLD BIRTHDAY PARTIES. Skydivers from all over Australia were camping at Ramblers that weekend and some of the craziest shit I have ever seen that can be done in the sky I saw. These guys have between 5,000 and 10,000 jumps and are basically, as one of them described to me, "fighter planes flying in synchronization towards the earth." Sure enough, when these guys would land they would load the best video of themselves on this huge big screen and everyone would watch it. Picture water aerobics in the sky and some of the leaders were falling BACKWARDS while the students (so to say) were following the teacher's every movement and mirroring everything they did. It actually did look like fighter planes in a dog fight. It was one of the coolest things I have seen on my travels yet. One of the guys told me that these guys are trying things that no one in the world has done yet and basically making a new high speed sport in the sky. Human fighter jets...okay, cool, got it. The weekend was filled with a ton of free beer (people buy a case for everyone for certain milestones in skydiving - i.e. I bought one for my first non tandem skydive) and

costumes, and foosball, and lots of friend making and great conversation. There was only one other student there with me that weekend, a 16 year old kid named Adam. Adam and I stayed in the bunkhouse together and became good friends; talking about our jumps after they would happen. Adam did the 9 stages of AFF (costs $2800) and told me he flipped burgers for one year to save the money to do this. He is going to be a badass back at high school this year I told him. Adam and his mother (who came out to get him) were nice enough to let me hitch a ride with them to the western suburbs of Brisbane and from there I hopped a train to the city center to hop a bus to Byron Bay. Looking back, had the rains never came to Queensland, I would have never researched skydiving school, would have never met Susie, would have never gone to Ramblers, and most importantly; would have never surpassed a personal milestone of life that not many people in the world will ever even think of doing. Great adventure, RCM.

Rainbow Beach

2011-01-27T04:02:00.000-08:00

YOU GOTTA LOVE SLEEPY BEACH TOWNS. I find myself in Rainbow Beach, Queensland, Australia. Population is around 1000 people and around 18 surfboards. I am stranded due to the disaster flooding to the north and south of me so I couldn't continue north with the Austrian girls Steph & Stef (sailing the Whitsunday Islands), can't go south to (Byron Bay), so I have become a part of Rainbow Beach. I don't even know how long I have been here or what days I was on Fraser Island. I don't know when I am leaving. My days look like this: wake up, go surfing, have lunch, go surfing, start drinking beer and write, dinner, more writing or live music (Nathan Kaye - more on him later), and then sleep. Repeat for about a week. The hostel is empty. I am the only one in my 7 bed dorm room (which is great as I am still on a famile so no charge for accommodation).

I FEEL TERRIBLE FOR THE FLOOD VICTIMS IN QUEENSLAND AND MY HEART GOES OUT TO EVERYONE AFFECTED. I glanced at the news the other night and saw Brisbane and just shook my head and walked away. So not cool. I feel blessed to be in a safe area.
I can tell the peak of it is over as my feet don't get wet when I walk to my room in sandals anymore. It is getting nicer and nicer here. But then you think the worst has passed and then you get told by reception that a cyclone might be headed to towards Cairns (far from me). I am looking for my window to get to Byron Bay and I can feel it will be any day now. Two Greyhound buses ACTUALLY came into Rainbow Beach. For awhile people were worried that alcohol and gasoline was going to run out in this town and the look on the face of the local that told me this was VERY CONCERNING. Reminds me of the cyclone handbook I had to read for my job training at the Hilton in Cairns where #2 responsibility for me was to MAKE SURE THE BAR IS FULLY STOCKED. Queenslanders love their piss.

I WAS TAUGHT HOW TO SURF BY A LEATHERY TAN MAN NAMED GAS. Once I realized I could be in Rainbow Beach for a week, I called right away to the only surf shop in town and signed up for a morning lesson. It was stormy that day but we went out anyway. I was the only one in the surf lesson group. We were the only ones in the ocean. When I say sleepy beach town I mean sleepy beach town. I put smiles on Gas's face because within an hour I was paddling my own waves. He said I was the fastest learner he had ever instructed in 25 years. I don't know about that but I am proud to say we started the lesson around 10am and at 10:42 Gas took a picture of my paddling and riding my first wave. Mind you we are not on huge waves but enough to leave a mark (as I feel my left temple right now the small scratch bruise from the board hitting me in the head this morning). By the way, Gas, a f'ing cool ass dude with over 30 years of surfing experience, has a tattoo on his back of two cobra snakes twisted up and fighting each other. Gas. Gas and I have become friends as he leaves a surf board out around back of the shop for me to use whenever I want and in turn I found him 6 girls to drive to Noosa (so they could catch the Greyhound to Brisbane) for $80 a head. The hostel was charging $100 a head. Keep in mind it is only like around an hour to get to Noosa. $100! People are dying in floods and you are charging backpackers $100 to go an hour down the beach? But, it does take a lot of 4WD and time and gas, etc. Good ol' Queensland always trying to make a buck and capitalize on unfortunate turn of events.

NATHAN KAYE IS AN INCREDIBLY TALENTED MUSICIAN from Byron Bay, Australia. Very independent with a couple of albums and some t-shirts for sale, he is stuck in Rainbow beach like everyone else and I am about to see him for the 4th time in a week. He is called a music festival in a human's body (or something like that). Album can be bought here: Lucky Man He didge-boxes (beat boxing in a didgeridoo), plays the slide and normal guitar, sings, beatboxes, and also has foot pedals for bass and snare. Last night I was allowed to play the bongos with him which felt great to play drums (been since April I think with my cousin and Justin in Echo Park, CA, drinking Charles Shaw all day on the front porch :)) again and with such an amazing musician. He is the best beat boxer I have ever seen in my life (Bob Jones in Redmond is right their at second). On the first night at the end of his show he had people yell out 3 random songs for him to make a beat box medley of. They were Kings of Leon Hearts on Fire, Thriller, and Ice Ice Baby. HE MURDERED IT. Absolutely nailed it. Singing and doing the beats and walking around the crowd. It was unbelievably awesome. Funny how getting stuck somewhere on this world will allow you to meet and find some of the most amazing people on the planet. I told Nathan that when he goes to Los Angeles in February that I will find him a house to play a private show at (thinking Jen's in Hollywood or Greenman's in Long Beach). He was so thankful. He said "see that is one of the things I love about Americans, they tell you they will make it happen, and they will actually make it happen...an Aussie will tell you 'oh yeah mate will sortya out righto mate' and they end up getting pissed drunk and it never happens."

I WAS SO THANKFUL TO BE ABLE TO WATCH THE BCS NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP at a reasonable hour (11:30am) with my own TV and sound. The only hotel in town has a bar and had ESPN and after talking to the general manager the day before, I was allowed to have my little 'area' to drink beer and watch the Ducks go for gold. A man came up to me in the first quarter who had one of those neck hole thingies that he has to cover so he can talk like a robot (smoker gone bad) and asked a question. He asked me why there were more black players on the teams of the football game than white players? Ryan's response: "because THOSE players are fast as shit," it doesn't matter what color they are. Whoever is the fastest, most agile, quick, etc plays I told him. I then kind of briefly told him that the muscle twitch fibers in the African rooted Americans are tighter and denser than Anglo Saxon European rooted Americans (read something on this a long time ago) due to their geographical and genealogical evolution. Similar to Asians being short due to their diets? Anyway, interesting question at an interesting time on this globe. Then, 3rd quarter, another Australian older man came up to me (breathed normally) and asked how they shoot the laser beam across the field to show the yellow line (for the first down). "Is there a guy that has to stand/kneel down to shoot the laser beam across the grass?" he says to me. LOL, oh you Baby Boomers need to get out more! I explained to him that that it was first down marker and was done by ESPN with computers and superimposed onto the television screen. He asks again "so that and then there is one guy still down there to tell them where to put the line?" "No, that is the chain crew, the laser is just done by ESPN" I say to him. The conversation was like throwing a ball against a brick wall. I don't know if he ever understood my explanation. Good ol' Rainbow Beach, Australia.

I BECAME A PART OF RAINBOW BEACH IN THE ?? AMOUNT OF DAYS I WAS THERE (over 2 weeks). I became on a first name basis with everyone in town; the barmen at the Rainbow Beach Hotel Pub, the PeterPans travel agents (who allowed me to use the internet free whenever I wanted), the waitresses at Arco where I would bring my own beer and do my writing and photography, and the staff at Dingos, the backpacker resort I stayed at. On the last weekend I did photography for Kate (4 years in Rainbow working at Peterpans Adventure Travel), for her going away party. The thankfulness in her eyes was so sincere when I told her I would do it she put her hands to her heart and couldn't believe I offered. It felt great to shoot an event and the pictures came out great of her and her friends. Couple of days later at around noon (decided to get up early that day) I got a massive pounding dat da da dat dat knock on my door (room 8). It was Gas. He said "Ryan, I am going to get a beer and fill the esky (cooler), the surfboards are loaded in the 4x4, we are going to Double Island Point (in Endless Summer 2) mate, all you need is board shorts, your rashie (tight shirt you wear while surfing to prevent board rash), and your camera, 5 minutes be out front). I was out front in 4. Double Island Point was unbelievable. Something out of a novel. Took around 45 minutes on 4x4 only tracks to get to and you open up into this secluded bay with a lagoon and two huge heads jetting out on each side over the ocean. This spot was surfed in Endless Summer 2. We had some beers and made some veggie wraps and surfed some sets. It was epic proportions. On the way home we went to Freshwater lake and washed off. No one their and the mirror of the lake rippled by our slow entrance as we dove down and took pictures and video with our waterproof cameras. I was so thankful he came and got me. I bought all the Inner Circle Rum and Cokes that night. The final night in Rainbow I had a Kangaroo BBQ with Gas at the Surf Shack and drank more Inner Circle Rum and just TALKED; religion, spirituality, forgiving criminals who hurt you or your family, women, Queensland vs. New South Wales. At the end of the night he gave me a book called "The Disappearance of the Universe." He said he has been waiting to give it away ($40 dollar book) to someone but no one ever 'got it' and "after knowing you for two weeks and talking tonight, I know that this needs to go with you." My gift to him is to teach him how to do a blog and google adsense program so that he can write off his expenses on his upcoming travels. I know that I will see him again somewhere on this globe. Can't tell you where or when, but I know I will. Great human being Gas is. Oh yeah, we fed his pet python 'Marylin' a guinea pig, a rat, and two mice on the last night two. She was hungry apparently. Getting stuck in Rainbow Beach was a blessing disguise. Great adventure. RCM

Fraser Island

2011-01-27T02:32:00.000-08:00

2 AUSTRIAN WOMEN, 3 DUTCH MEN, 1 SWISS MAN, A SCOTTISH GIRL, AND ME are grouped together in a 4x4 Ute that fits 5 in the back on benches (like a military vehicle) and 3 in the front seats. The briefing was long and detailed. Merv was the man who gave us the 2pm briefing and countless times said "I am not here to tell you guys what to do BUT..." There were so many dangers with this Fraser Island 3 day 2 night camping/safari beach tour that is laughable. "True story" Merv would keep telling us about people being eaten by tiger sharks, cars rolling and crushing humans, girls being airlifted by helicopter, drownings, and a baby that was eaten by a dingo. And we are going there and paid $ for this again why? LOL. Why, because it led to 3 of the funniest and most interesting/amazing days of my travels yet.

YOUR FOOD AND GAS IS PROVIDED BUT YOU BUY YOUR OWN ALCOHOL. The cooler for the alcohol was like a mini coffin but more square. It is the biggest cooler I have ever seen. Over here they are called an 'ESKY' (which is the brand name and has to do with Eskimos or something I don't know). Anyway, you pack all your gear in to the 4x4 and cargo net it down. The driver can't see out of the rear view mirror. The people in the back feel like sardines. Morale is high and everyone is excited and we head out for the beach spot where the barges pick us up to transport to Fraser Island. Emmy drove first because she was from Scotland and is used to driving normal roads on the left side of the road. It is 10am. I already want to drink beer but can't because the esky is the first thing packed and has a ton of gear on top of it. Damn it. The barge takes like 15 minutes to get you on the island. The huge steel forward hull lowers and the cars that drove in and packed tight drive right out on to the water and sand of the beach. Here we go. For those of you that have driven on the beach before, especially with a mission in mind (3 day camping trip), know that there is something special about rallying down the sand with the ocean on your side and caravan with a team. Little things like communicating between the cars for when to go to 4 wheel drive or 2 wheel drive (first car puts their arm out the window and flashes 4 fingers - which is then passed by car 2, to car 3, etc, etc). 2 fingers was for 2WD. Flashing your lights means you are in trouble. Blinkers tell the pack which side of things we are going to pass on as you are not the only thing that moves out there. You have also study the map and tide chart you were given so that you drive during safe driving times. You would not believe the pictures I saw on the "Rock Wall" in the Rainbow Beach Hotel that is put up by the Rainbow Beach towing company. Trucks and utes, and SUVs so F'd over it is unbelievable. Some of them were so engulfed and sunken into sand and water than you could see just the roof. Some were against rocks and mangled and crushed it looked like they went through a spin cycle in a washing machine for motor vehicles. You are concerned about this and just hope the weather will be good and it won't be stormy or wet as that ADDS a ton of water and force to the creeks, washouts, and streams you have to drive through when getting to your Fraser Island destinations.

IT RAINED AND SURGED WET FOR 2 OF THE 3 DAYS WE WERE ON THAT FORSAKEN ISLAND. It was like camping at Beverly Beach in Oregon, USA in tents with bad weather times 10 (Mom, you would not have been a happy camper lol). You can't just pack up and leave either. Your team, or group (we were Group B and were obviously the most fun and dominant group! - love and miss you guys!), has to come together and survive. My dad just said to me on Skype "it sounds like Survivor" haha, yes Dad, it was, but without the voting off (although I could tell some group members in other groups would love to have implemented a voting off rule haha). At your campsite: No showers. No running water. No electricity. No toilet facilities. No structures for cover. No pillows. No sleeping pads. No campfires. No picnic benches. No chairs. Just a few handfuls of international travelers joining together to accomplish a first few initial tasks; putting up your tents on the sand behind the dune to keep wind out while keeping under the tarp rain cover (some people failed at this and slept in the front seats of the 4x4s), and making dinner. It was so funny the instructions for the menu for our prepacked food for 3 days was written like it was to be read by a 10 year old learning to cook for the first time. "Remove cheese from package and place on bread slice"..."Remove corned beef from package and put in between cheese and bread"..."put another slice of bread on the beef and cheese"..."put in mouth, chew" - just kidding on the last part but yes the instructions for making a sandwich could have been understood by a kindergartner at snack time.

EVERY MEAL YOU HAVE HAS SAND IN IT. Every meal we cooked seemed to also have heaps and heaps of water raining on our very small tarped area for cover. The type of rain that creates huge runoff puddles on the ground around where you are. Oh what an experience lol Quang Do for cranking this one up because it did was set the laughter meter to a 9 for the entire trip. The game was a tin cup filled 1 third of the way up with boxed wine, premixed rum and coke, or beer (or sometimes all 3 - thank you Quang Do) with a full deck of playing cards set on top of the cup. It was passed around the circle and you get one breath to blow off a bit of the cards. Whoever messes up (not blowing off at least one card or blowing off the whole thing or using two breaths), or is left with the last card drinks the contents in the cup. I cried a couple of times I was laughing so hard as I we abused this young innocent Swedish girl who didn't get the game well at first and Quang Do kept setting her up for failure. Oh man it was good times. Great times.

THE NEXT DAY YOU ARE UP TO BEAT THE TIDES TO GET TO A SHIPWRECK, ELI CREEK, AND INDIAN HEAD. We lucked out a bit as it seemed to pour rain when we were at camp, cooking and what not, but would not rain when we went out to explore the island. Eli Creek was a fresh water creek that flooded into the ocean and was no more than knee deep most of the time. It was neat as we left our bag at the mouth of it and hiked up it and then "crocodile style" swam or cruised in the current down it towards the ocean. So cold, but so nice. It was like a lazy river. Lots of splashing and antics by Group B followed by some bump/set/spike volleyball at the end of the creek on the mouth by the beach. The shipwreck was fascinating as it is just right there on the beach in the shallow end and you can walk right up to it to take pictures. Remember the entire island is a World Heritage National Park so everything is protected and historic. Indian Head was magnificent. It was named by Cook around 1770 when he was exploring the coast. A massive bluff jetting out over the shoreline I remember standing there looking left and seeing an endless beach and looking right and seeing another. Took some good pictures on the tip with only the Pacific Ocean behind me stayed away from the edge as the cliff drop was pretty hefty and there are no ropes or guide rails to keep people from falling off.

THE SECOND NIGHT WAS FILLED WITH COMMUNAL SINGING AND LAUGHTER. Joel, one of our 2 guides for all 5 vehicles, played guitar into the night with songs like Take Me Home Country Roads and Oasis's Wonderwall. By this point I have become really good friends and close with a girl named Stephanie from Austria (in my group). We have the same sense of humor and get along great and it was fun to hang with her and party through the night. After dinner, drinking games (moved to Asshole the second night where I helped explain the game to everyone the game and also the difference of singles on singles and doubles on doubles, etc), and music, I walked out to the beach with Steph and we just laid there and watched the arsenal of stars and planets in the sky invade our eyes. We may have kissed and rolled around on the sand under the blanket of the cosmos as well ;) It wasn't raining at this point. It was warm. It was clear. It was awesome. The final day was Lake Mackenzie, one of the purest/clearest/freshest (freshest?) freshwater lakes in the world. It is in the middle of Fraser Island and has a sandy beach surrounding it with tropical foliage surrounding the beach. It is like something out of a novel. Apparently you can clean jewelry with the sand it is so fine and yes, you can, drink the water in the lake as you swim. I did. The 4x4 track to get to this marvel was something you have to experience. While it can be a difficult run for a 4x4 normally (we broke and spring and burned a hole in our radiator which we found out when we returned our vehicle), the weather in the past few days made it into some awesome off-roading. Huge puddles and bogs...Joel, the guide, who has been doing these tours for years said it was the worst he had ever seen it. You aren't in Kansas anymore when you find yourself in a 4x4 ute in the middle of a 50 mile long island in the Pacific Ocean knee to knee knocking with 4 European men who haven't showered in 3 days. Not to mention the crazy Austrian girl (jk Steph LUV U! :)) who doesn't seem to care as your heads are hitting your knees and the roof of the vehicle as she MASHES it 15km through some extremely technical 4x4 roadway in what feels like a jungle. It was an incredible experience/adventure to say the least. RCM

Surfers Paradise

2011-01-27T01:40:00.000-08:00

SO THE THREE MONTHS OF 50 TO 70 HOUR WORK WEEKS ENDS and you find yourself leaving normality to a city 1000 miles away for New Years Eve 2010. This working holiday visa that I posses is now in full effect as I have 'worked' and now am going to 'holiday.' I saved money to a point where I left Cairns with more money then when I landed in Brisbane 90 days ago. You are scared financially though as things you buy here are twice as much as they would be at home. I actually have forgotten what normal prices for things are. I guess I am economically acclimating? Is a bottle of water for $3.50 normal? Is 2 fifths of Smirnoff vodka really on special for $60? Is two games of bowling $28? It doesn't matter though because you are doing things that most people read about in magazines. You cope and find ways to save costs and shave excessive spending so you can survive and feel comfortable with your travels.

SURFERS PARADISE WAS THE DESTINATION FOR NEW YEARS EVE 2010. The best way I can describe this city is Miami's South Beach combined with the touristy-niceness of Cancun Mexico type resorts/hotels in and on an area as large as and as expensive as Orange County's coast line in California. It is a wannabe Las Vegas but more like a richer San Diego. A pint of vodka was $24. I only saw a couple of surfers with boards walking to the beach to hit the waves. It wasn't as crowded as San Diego on a Memorial Day or Labor Day but was close. Oh how the old nostalgic cities people talk and write about can become over commercialized through the years. Still very fun though. The group that Imke, my good German friend I had met when I first landed in Brisbane, met were awesome. Omar, Aanus, Melissa, Lelit, Ruby and us had an exceptional time. Tequila and Jaeger (thank you again Kiwis for the duty free purchase and serving us SHOTS! SHOTS! shot SHOTS SHOTS!) were a normal thing before going out dancing and everyone had smiles on their faces. "For the Boys!" was common phrase that I can explain to you at another time. We all got after it on New Years and rather than spending $50 to enter a club we just decided to make drinks in water bottles and pack backpacks and rally out of Surfers to a beach area to the north. The fireworks were amazing and my New Years kiss was right on time :) The next day went to a water park to hydrate and chill out. I already miss out group and can't wait to see them in Auckland in August when my best friend and I head there to get bar work before the Rugby World Cup gets there in September. Foora Boys!

YOU ARE BACK ON THE ROAD WITH NO DESTINATION when you leave your 'working life' on this visa. Imke is headed to Sydney with a German girl she met, the Kiwis you just partied with are headed to Brisbane for a few nights; everyone is checking out of the city. Where do you go? You have a general idea of places you want to go but remember you are a traveler, not a tourist. You don't have set dates on where and what you are going to do. You don't use travel agents/bookers for booking your travels, you use them simply for information and benchmarking costs. You simply find your way as it comes. I found my next destination a day before I left Surfers on the internet and decided to call Dingos in Rainbow Beach to ask if I could do a famile trip (we have their brochure and book for them in Cairns). They said when will you be here and I said "tomorrow??" and so there it was. Bus station. 5 hour bus ticket north. Hugs goodbye to your friends of 5 nights. On to Fraser Island and a city called Rainbow Beach and you have know idea what to expect. Right now as I type this, I am leaving in the morning for a 3 day 2 night beach camping safari with 7 other people in the 4x4 that I have never met out to the some of the most pristine and fresh water lakes and gorgeous scenery one can ever see on the coast of the Pacific Ocean. The largest sandy island in the world. Fraser Island. While the island is amazing, it is also dangerous with numerous drownings, cars being towed out of quicksand/ocean, and helicopter airlifts every year. This ought to be a good one. Once again, GO TIME. RCM

Traveling Alone

2010-12-08T20:04:00.000-08:00

SITTING IN AN OLD MOTEL HOTEL IN KURANDA, QLD, DRINKING A JUG OF BEER it has come to me that traveling by yourself is a fascinating thing. You find yourself in the strangest and most captivating places, moments, and times of your life. You THINK a lot. You ponder life and who you are and where you are going. Little things you pass by you take a lot more notice to. Back in the states, while I was a huge advocate of going to the movies (usually double headers bought on a child ticket from the automated machines = yes they don't notice when they rip your ticket) alone, there were still things that you would probably not do alone. Most people wouldn't go on excursions or fun events by themselves. You probably wouldn't go to a theme park by yourself or go to a music festival by yourself. When you travel solo, you would. It isn't that you don't have friends or that you are a loner, you just open your mind and body to moving around the globe without the accompaniment of other people. I didn't think twice, for example, on going by myself on an old train up through a historic railway in the World Heritage Rainforest to a small little shop town called Kuranda. You aren't lonely. You take pictures, you listen to music, and you ponder a lot. You have brief encounters with people (like me helping a couple from Sydney today on the train with their Nikon D3000 = a little brother to my DSLR) that you will never see again but yet you shared a moment. There is an under privileged man in Cairns (maybe homeless?) who sits on various storefront steps in the early evening. His beard speaks volumes and the leathery skin on his caucasian face could write a novel. Every time I pass him, I give him all the coins that are in my pocket (doesn't matter if it is 20 cents or a ton of 1 and 2 dollar coins). Every time I pass him, I ask him if I can buy him a beer and every time he declines. I hope one of these days he will say yes and I can sit down with him and just talk. He doesn't have anyone to talk to. It makes me frigid to think what his Christmas will be like this year.

I LISTEN TO A LOT OF FRANK SINATRA when I find myself in old places; couped up at that back 2 person table at a low lit pub or hotel, jug of beer to the left, backpack to the right, headphones on. I people watch a lot. Sometimes listen. There is something about music from the 30's 40's and 50's that adds a mental ambiance to your situation that puts one into a nostalgic trance. I sometimes picture when settled down what my evenings would be and how the best to enjoy them. I have told my friend Joe Armbruster this. Old music, (i.e. Frank) big-ass red wine glass filled with a mid-priced cabernet, and a coffee table book about something that has history and culture (like the History of Palm Springs book at my friend Shelby's house in Indian Wells, CA) in it. Perhaps light eats of small meats and cheeses to accompany the wine. Perhaps a fire burning. Perhaps in the mountains or on a beach. Perhaps.

THE MENTAL REFLECTION OF YOUR LIFE AND BODY ON THIS EARTH that happens while doing adventures by yourself is something remarkable. Cognitive analysis is a day to day thing...the time I try and not think about anything is when I meditate (new weekly class I am taking on Zen and Guided Meditation) and let me tell you that it is not easy to make your mind go blank in a foreign country with 10 open months of no real plans ahead of you. While my daily life was routine before, it is so sporadic now. You just take it as it comes. Capricorns would freak out. There are no plans or organization to your future. You pick a city or area and you just GO. You start thinking in months and years and not weeks or days. You start pinning down GENERAL ideas of what you will do when you get there (work, play, sights, etc). It is liberating. Talk about a catalyst for human thought; 20 years of school, 7 years of corporate work...to, no plan. I remember my good friends Ben and Mandel Maughan saying to me so "basically, McLeod, you are on the 'no plan' plan." LOL. Yes, you can only plan so much, especially in Australia, because there are so many ways you can go. It is almost overwhelming. But times like this when I just got off the Sky Rail from Kuranda (the rail that inspired the flyover scenes in Avatar) and am in a weird restaurant waiting for my bus back to Cairns drinking a beer and writing, feeling tight (as Hemingway would say), everything is worth it.

Cairns - Living and Working

2010-11-15T22:49:00.000-08:00

LIVING AND WORKING IN CAIRNS is an incredible experience. The tropical northern part of Queensland, Australia is a tranquil escape that I wish every traveler could experience. One day you are partying with backpackers at a hostel's beer garden and the next day you are on a tiny island off the coast of the Great Barrier Reef diving or snorkeling with rare species and unnamed types of coral. My days are mostly spent working. It took me 4 days and about 9 resumes handed out to get 2 jobs. While I want to to tell you it easy to get a job in Cairns, I must say that you will go up against some competition in numbers (thousands of backpackers from all around the world). What will take you a long way when looking for a job is a positive attitude, the ability to speak English CLEARLY (a lot of times the people from England over here are the hardest to understand!), and the ability to learn quickly. The main industries working holiday makers like myself find work in up here is hospitality, food and beverage, retail, bar work, and farm work. I found my first job as a receptionist at Koala Beach Resort (hostel and tour booking company) simply by walking down the street and seeing a sign on the door for help wanted. My second job was found the same way as I walked into Mondo's, a restaurant at the Hilton Cairns, and started asking around. I am a proud member of the Hilton family now as I am much appreciated in the banquets department for my work on private dinners, weddings, corporate lunches, gala dinners, etc.

WORKING AT THE HILTON I AM SEEING A CULMINATION of 10 years of off-and-on food and beverage experience in the United States. From starting as a busser at the Bluwater Bistro in Seattle in college, to working at the 5 star Mister A's in San Diego, to bartending with The French Gourmet (Corey and Gus thank you for teaching me the ways of a catering bartender wizard), to when I first learned how to serve tables at a Red Robin in high school (the only job I was ever fired from - eat shit Scott, I wrote the schedule down wrong!), my experience in this industry has culminated in a way that I am a huge asset to the Hilton. Within weeks they were putting me on the important events; events that the people are tipping me on (remember their is no tipping in Australia as your wage of $18 to $30 an hour pays for your gratuity) No tipping at bars, restaurants, nowhere. It feels good to know a trade well and excel at it. Mind you it is not a career choice of mine but it pleases me to know that my 12 years of work in various places, I can please my superiors with hard work and pleasurable charisma while on the clock. I don't take the two 15 minute paid breaks they give us. Also, there are only like 2 security cameras at the Hilton. I feel that is a good example of how things are a bit more relaxed out here. I have looked all around and can't seem to find any cameras and the ones we have I don't think are even monitored as I have seen the security room and it looks like a shack. (Ben McLeod, a bit different than your Ritz/Marriott in Los Angeles yeah?). The Hilton takes care of us well too...uniform is washed and pressed for you for when you get to work and they feed us mid shift with decent grub. Showers, lockers, it is like almost like going to the gym, yet you are not lifting weights, but more lifting massive tables and chairs, and you aren't sweating from cardio but from anaerobic activity that seems to never end. I would love to see how many miles I walk in a busy night where I am bouncing around from event to event.

THE WEATHER IN CAIRNS IS LIKE FLORIDA IN THE SPRING with more creatures (especially parrots and bats, yes bats). When I walk to work in the day or morning, you can see and hear hundreds of bats in the trees and if you walk down a certain portion of the sidewalks you will walk through their droppings; only to hurry your steps worried that you are going to get bat shit on your face. At dusk, the bats MOVE. And man do they move. Looking up at the sky it looks like 500 Batman logos flying around as if Gotham city was about to be attacked by nuclear missiles. They squeak, flap, and screech their way to...well...I actually don't know where they go (maybe their cave?). Besides the not-very-scary bats, Cairns is beautiful. Green and red parrots casually frolic from tree to tree. I remember one night at a bar on the outside deck just watching families of parrots doing whatever it is they do...probably about 5 feet away from me I could almost touch one. I work right on the water and as much as the breakfast shift can suck (up at 6am), the walk in the morning along the public lagoon overlooking bikeriders, people doing Yoga, and the Pacific Ocean; it is breathtaking. Add some good headphone music in, like Deadmau5's Faxing Berlin, and some sandals and backpack, and you are now picturing the first small chapter of the working holiday of Ryan McLeod. I walk everywhere. I haven't driven a car in 4 months and it hasn't occurred to me until right now. I think I am going to buy a bike tomorrow as I want to explore the outer parts of the city center that is a bit too far for my tired and aching feet. On a good day, I am on my feet only 5 hours of work...on a heavier day (Koala shift into a heavy Hilton shift), I can be on my feet for 17 hours. I am not complaining, just stating that some good insoles can go along way when doing this type of labor. Socks get reused, outfits get repeated, sandals are very WORN. Some nights I will get home from the Hilton around 2am exhausted and set my alarm for 7:45am having to work a 10 hour double in the morning at Koala. Some mornings I feel like a zombie walking down the one story of stairs down to reception. Most mornings eye drops are a life saver.

WORKING AT KOALAS IS EXTREMELY DEMANDING AND DIFFICULT. I sit at the front desk and read (right now The Thorn Birds - thank you Brian Hayden, great novel), write, work on my upcoming travel websites, play Hearts on the Windows, Pinball on Windows, and at some points I have fallen asleep on the couches in the lobby there. Oh yeah, and I check people in and out of their rooms, book some tours here and there, and close the doors and gates at the end of the night. Sometimes I have to take the garbage out and clean some coffee mugs in the back sink. Let me just say I don't take this job for granted at all. I also get free trips through Koala's which is awesome as you have seen some of the cool trips I have been doing (bungee, skydive, river rafting, etc). Funny, looking back a year ago in Los Angeles when I was researching this holiday work visa, I never pictured getting my first job at such a cool place that can allow for so many adventures. Ryan is very thankful for this position and will miss Koala's dearly I am sure as I head south after Christmas.

MY ROOM HAS LIZARDS IN IT. Well, they come and go as they please. Little geckos only about a finger length, they scurry all over. Just last night I was going into my room at 1am after a long Hilton shift, and one of the lizards was on my door. "In or out buddy, your call" I said to him. He decided to stay out. My heart doesn't jump anymore when things scamper around my feet. As I know a lot of you are like me (like Lindsay in North Carolina with water bugs), people who do not care for large (or small for that matter) cockroaches. Well, I can say that I squashed one the other day (progress) like Mr. Miagi talked about grapes to Daniel, and I thought for a moment that the fear of these harmless and pointless creatures was gone. The next night walking home from work, one came shooting towards me, reversed direction, reversed again and came right at my vulnerable toes only to have me do a double jump out of the way with slight heart palpitations. God I love those things. Back to my room for those of you who care. I live at Koala Beach Resort in room 112. Old Cad members at Sigma Chi in college can appreciate the ROOM 112 (Mike B, T Smith, and D) It is an ensuite (has private bathroom) 4 bed dorm room with a fridge and a sink. I have it to myself which is nice as it is actually almost as big as my last studio in Los Angeles lol. The AC works good and with the curtains closed, I sleep well. Working 70 hours a week probably has something to do with sleeping well too :/

ACCLIMATING TO THIS ENVIRONMENT AND THE SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE is still happening after almost 60 days of being in Oz. Around week 3 I got a bad whooping cough and when some foods (especially meat) would hit my stomach (thank you Gilligan's and your dogshit CURRY SAUSAGES SLOP AND RICE free dinner) in a way that I can only explain as a 'twisted knot of lead in the center of my gut.' The cough went away but my good friend and counterpart at the Hilton, Michael, said that it has to do with the hot air and the air conditioning, etc. I also noticed that the spin of the earth can affect my walking (some of you are probably laughing at this right now). Yes, there were (and still sometimes) times when I would be walking down the street in Cairns (sober) and I would feel like the ground under me is shifting and I could fall over. You think I am crazy but my best two friends, Jeff & Dave (Irish guys mentioned before), also felt the same thing one day at Palm Cove. I am not crazy, just know that I FEEL different when doing day to day things over here (like walking). There are times at the Hilton where I am running plates of food in and out of multiple rooms (no AC, then tons of AC) at a fast pace and the fluorescent lights are beaming down; I feel like I could faint. Hydration is something I took lightly my first month here and now I drink almost two liters of water before lunch. I didn't realize how bad I was dehydrated and when you add fun nights and days with alcohol, your body just prunes into oblivion. One day I could FEEL myself not getting enough water and oxygen to itself (vomited and was confused at reception - I think it was a mild heat stroke - closed reception early and had my night shift covered - slept and drank water) and that was the day I said that a water bottle will always be with me and I will be constantly drinking the good fresh tap water of Cairns (it is quality actually as it comes from good mountain fresh water sources from the World Heritage Rainforest). I can feel a large difference in my health; mentally and physically already. Derek Zoolander was on to something in his 'Merman' commercial. RCM

The Working Holiday Project 2010

2010-11-15T21:16:00.000-08:00

Skydive from 14,000 feet over the GREAT BARRIER REEF

2010-11-07T01:07:00.000-07:00

SKYDIVING IS SOMETHING NOT NORMAL TO HUMANS. Thanks again to my short term career choice with Koala Beach Resort in Cairns, I was able to do a 'famile' skydive with Australia Skydive (one of the biggest in the world now due to two companies merging). My jump cost me $35. Jumps are usually around $300. Happy days. I wasn't as nervous as I was in Interlaken, Switzerland 7 years ago...funny how age can calm your nerves a bit and when you are younger you are more aware of scary shit that can kill you or give you a heart attack. I guess as we get older we seem to get lazy in our paranoid thinking? Anyhow, for all of you whom have jumped out of a perfectly good airplane know that SKYDIVING IS UNREAL. One can watch movies and television and see skydivers doing there thing but let me tell you that when that door opens up in that little Cessna at 14,000 feet and you are higher than clouds and houses and cows are the same size, you question a lot of things about the short-term past, present, and future. PAST = drank two beers. PRESENT = 120 MPH free fall looking down on a tropical rainforest and the Great Barrier Reef. FUTURE = "where do I sign up to get certified?"

I HAVE COME TO REALIZE AFTER 30 YEARS OF LIVING on this planet that there are must do's. Skydiving is a must do. I don't care how scared you are of heights, or how much anxiety flying gives you, or how you can get motion sickness...if you want to really FEEL like a human in this 10+ billion year old universe, JUMP OUT OF AN AIRPLANE. 12 people fill this tiny, tiny plane and I would say it probably gets better gas mileage than a car it is so small. You are packed in like sardines and no one knows to laugh or cry during the ascent. Your jump master continues to show you his altimeter and you start realizing that this is getting close to the stage that jet airliners turn off the FASTEN SEAT BELT sign. You go above clouds. You can't make out things on the ground from houses to cars to animals to buildings. The door opens and the cold air hits everyone resulting in SCREAMING and SMILES and FACES OF TERROR. I put my dive glasses on and crossed my arms as I watch a girl in front of me (who was fairly nervous about the jump at the shop earlier) and her instructor head to the edge of the cabin to jump and she does not follow the rules and cross her arms but proceeds to grab the ceiling, door, wall, ground; basically everything to keep her from plummeting from the aircraft. She exited the plane on the ground that day. The kid next also grabbed the door when he is supposed to have his arms crossed. Switzerland, 7 years ago, I grabbed the door like a child reaching for his mother. This time, I just smiled and crossed my arms and let Jeremy, my instructor, scoot us up to the ledge. It is frightening. Sheer terror in a good way I guess. Before you can realize what you are actually doing or where you are or what is about to happen, you have exited the plane. One barrel roll and (thanks to my instructor advising me to keep my eyes open) you are looking back and waving to the aircraft. It was a white plane I think. Jeremy taps my arm signaling me to uncross my arms and let them FLY. You are flying. You are going 120 MPH. I have told many of you throughout the years that the best way to picture what is like is to imagine a freeway. You are standing 10 feet next to this freeway watching the cars ZOOM by. So fast as they just WIZZ by. Probably doing 65 MPH (or if you live in California you are probably imagining cars going 80 MPH or 90 MPH), see the cars flying by as your head turns. Now picture that same car moving at almost double that speed, or 120 MPH. Now those cars are literally ROARING BY you and your head can't turn fast enough to eye them as they cruise by. Now, picture you, yes, YOU, next to that car like Superman keeping pace with it as it flies down the asphalt. Now picture yourself staying next to that car for a minute. It is around a minute but it feels like a second thinking back. A minute doing 120 MPH without a seat belt is almost life changing. There really isn't anything else in the world that can give you the sensation that skydiving does. We as kids stuck our heads out the window of the family van headed out on a camping trip and that was fun. But double the speed and get rid of the cabin you are riding in and you will feel like Neo in the Matrix.

BEING A TRAVEL WRITER, I OBVIOUSLY ASKED A LOT OF QUESTIONS to Jeremy in the field (drop zone) we landed in. Some of you already know that there are 2 parachutes on every jump. If the first gets tangled you are trained to cut the first one and deploy the second. What fascinates me the most is the computer generating emergency deployment. A lot of people worry about dying when skydiving but it is safer than walking around a major city. You see, if your body is still moving at 120 MPH at 700 feet (seems a bit low for me ay?), the computer inside parachute #2 will deploy automatically. This is so rare and my instructor said that if you are having computer generated deployments that you shouldn't being skydiving. My question, but never asked for obvious reasons, is "what happens if the computer fails?" Thank you electrical engineers.

AFTER THE CANOPY IS OPENED AND YOU ARE JERKED AWAY from your superhero speed towards the earth, you look up and thankfully watch your parachute fill with air. For a millisecond you see the cords untangling and think to yourself are we going to have a malfunction? Jeremy has done around 3000 jumps and just recently had his first malfunction. Funny how cords can knot up and tangle yeah? I have enough trouble getting my shitty headphones for my mp3 player to straighten out. (similar to losing your mask/regulator diving at the ocean floor), you simply follow your training and know exactly where to release your main shoot and deploy the second. People don't die in the air, they die on landing. With power lines, wind, trees, buildings, etc, most skydiving deaths are correlated to the landing going wrong. Before the landing is almost my favorite part. While the freefall is amazing and intense, the parachuting around at slower speeds is so tranquil and transcendentally calming that it is hard to explain. Looking out and seeing the reef, the rainforest, Cairns, on a sunny day in the Southern Hemisphere is beyond breathtaking. I was allowed to steer the parachute which was not offered in Switzerland. By tugging on these large yellow ropes with handles, one is able to turn the parachute to the right and left. One of the turns we did was so hard that our bodies were almost parallel with the ground of the globe we were jumping over. It is just incredible people. Highly recommended and definitely will do again, and again, and again. Like scuba diving, things are just different to you when you are down there (or up there I should say in this case :) ) Good adventure, RCM

Cairns - Captain Matty's Barefoot Tour

2010-10-11T06:15:00.000-07:00

CAPTAIN MATTY'S BAREFOOT TOUR WAS AN EXCEPTIONAL DAY. Pickup at 7:30am on a Sunday morning came a bit early but knowing that the day was going to be great once I was up I got excited (like getting up for skiing). The van holds 17 passengers who were mostly German girls, my two Irish friends, Dave and Jeff, my two new English friends, Jenna and Sarah, a French Couple, and a woman from Sweden. The five questions Captain Matty asks everyone over the loudspeaker was age, where you are from, when you are leaving Cairns, your relationship status, and finally and most importantly, whether you scrunch or fold your toilet paper after going #2. People were a bit more awake after this early morning bus passenger interview. I am a folder. Sam, my British work counterpart, and I were smart enough to buy a case of beer for the group the night before (we got the trip for free due to working at Koala Adventures) as it was the nice thing to do. With beer on ice in the back being closely guarded and eyed by the Irish at 8am in the morning, we headed into the hills for the Atheton Tablelands.

First stop was to be the Cathedral Fig Tree (500 years old) but unfortunately closed for maintenance. We blew by that exit and headed to Lake Eacham for breakfast and an early morning swim. This lake was basically inside of a rainforest and before we reached it, Captain Matty described to us the dangerous snakes that may encounter as just last week someone reported running into a King Brown on the east bank of the lake on the pedestrian trail. Captain Matty is certified in CPR, first aid, and snake bite first aid. He proceeds to describe to us how it will go down if we are bitten by a venomous snake (the King Brown, or my favorite is the WILD and AGGRESSIVE Taipan snake). Apparently the first thing to do after being bit is to remain calm. Yeah, okay, I am sure. Totally, I will just kick my feet up and pour some tea to drink and read the morning paper with two small holes in my shin dripping with juice that can kill me in an hour. Anyway, remaining calm is so that your heart rate doesn't rise resulting in higher blood flow which results in the venom moving through your body faster and faster. Once relaxation has been attained by the bite, he or she will then give his credit card to Captain Matty. The credit card would then be placed directly onto the bite and the Captain would start wrapping the bite very tightly. After wrapping that area he would then continue to wrap the entire limb (apparently 90% of bites happen on a human limb) from top to bottom. So, why the credit card? Firstly, some doctors in smaller medical centers (where it is best to take you as the large hospitals do not have the ability to help you quickly enough) won't help you until you have paid up front. By having the credit card under the bandage, he has to unwrap it, resulting in major blood/venom flow, which in turn he would need to help you right then and there or watch you die. Secondly, the credit card keeps the venom from hitting the bandages which would result in the venom being soaked up and much harder to take a sample of so that the doctor could identify which snake anti venom needs to be used to save your ass. Thirdly, that credit card will make for a great bar story/souvenir. That is, if you don't die before treatment becomes available, and if you make it through the 3 week sickness/hangover that the anti venom causes.

LAKE EACHAM WAS BRILLIANT; quiet, tranquil, and relaxing. Only a couple of cars in the parking lot, our 17 travelers pretty much had the place to ourselves. Picture a lake in the middle of a rainforest that has no shore waves, no ripples, and turtles and fish swimming in the shallows at a rate of .5 MPH. The fish that saw us and we could see them basically were treading water and just chillin out not scared of a soul in the world. Some lizards were on the bank too staring at us like we were welcome, but wanting to know who the hell we were and where we came from? The core of our bus group (younger English and Irish and German people...oh yeah, and the one American like every trip; me) changed into our swimwear on the swimming dock and one by one took the plunge into the fresh, bath water temperature, water of the quiet Lake Eacham. It is always funny how an early morning swim can wipe any past-night alcohol cobwebs right out of one's head. After taking a group plunge shot, we dried off, and hiked back up to where Captain Matty was so kindly cooking bacon and eggs that he had bought for the group. Some brown bread, ketchup, and bbq sauce later, we all were chomping down bacon and egg morning sandwiches. Captain Matty is one of the best hosts I have been around in as. From New Zealand, his long goatee and dreadlocked hair, combined with his tan, tattoos and beads, results in a seasoned and weathered 30 year old who knows two things; how to to make people feel comfortable, and everything about the Atheton Tablelands around Cairns. Oh yeah, and he casually has guided people on white water rafts for over 7000 hours. 7000 hours.

THE WEATHER STARTED TO TURN FOR THE WORSE. As we head to our 2nd stop, Dinner Falls and The Crater, the overcast and dry morning began to be a overly gray and wet morning. Not a probably though as everyone was having a great time. This stop had a very large sink hole (kind of like a cenote in Mexico) that was created by volcanic activity over 50,000 years ago. We brought a large rock so that we could throw it off the viewing deck and into the The Crater. We all remained quiet as this poor rock plummeted for a few long seconds and broke a big hole onto the green algae film covering the surface of the deep water. By this time it was time for lunch and beer. We zoomed into a town called Millaa Millaa (means water water) which has a population of 350. At the only pub in town everyone ate steak sandwiches with chips, and cold Australian jugs of beer (two of which Captain Matty was so nice to buy for the group for his appreciation of having a full paying van that day). I played a pull tab machine for a $1 and won $5. Only gambling I have done this country and left a winner.

AFTER PUTTING SMILES ON THE LOCAL'S FACES AT THE MILLAA MILLAA PUB, it was time to move onto 6 more stops, Millaa Millaa Falls, Zillie Falls, Ellinjaa Falls, Crawford's Lookout, Josephine Falls, and Babinda Boulders. Captain Matty doesn't wear a watch and is different from other tours as he doesn't say "okay you have 15 minutes to take pictures then be back at the bus"...we simply leave as a group when the concensus is it is time to leave. Captain Matty doesn't wear footwear either (hence the BAREFOOT TOUR). So back to the highlights. The best was swimming under Millaa Millaa falls with my friends. It was like something out of a novel. Pouring down rain and a gorgeous waterfall in the middle of a tropical rainforest and I am swimming with people I have befriended in the past 3 weeks/days from all across the world. One of the British girls and I kissed briefly under the falls just because it seemed like the thing to do. Ellinjaa Falls was spectacular as well but no swimming, just pictures and a soft mist on the face. Crawford's Lookout was cool to see that far into a gorge, happy we didn't attempt the 1.6KM many meter decent as we were mainly all in sandals and half drenched from the rain. That hike would be a whole day. Josephine Falls was near the end and was POWERFUL and INTIMIDATING. Many young men have died here (27 since 1979 when the famous German people took the photographs that had faces in them...look it up on your own for the story). People will swim in the top pool and be swept down the river and try to stand up and get their foot wedged into a rock gap and the raging water will break their knees/back and they will lunge forward and drown. Captain Matty has taken two tourists out of the Tully river due to this very accident on a rafting trip that a brother raft company had lost (apparently a guide will not remove his dead as it will rattle him to much to continue his job). So the guides help each other and dig out each other's dead. Um, when is my rafting trip again, oh yeah, it is in a couple of weeks.
WE ENDED THE BUZZED, FUN, AND EPIC DAY with Captain Matty cooking up a sausage sizzle at the Babinda Boulders. It was dawn and pouring rain so rather than hiking in to to see the boulders, our group stayed under cover and listened to Captain Matty's stories as we scarfed down sausage and grilled onion sandwiches, again, on just good ol' brown sandwich bread. The stoves are cool at these places...all through these World Heritage locations, National Parks, etc, their are solar powered bbq grills that can be used by anyone. You don't need charcoal briquettes or light fluid. You simply hit a button and it runs on a timer and you can just leave it for the next person. Such a novel idea I was a fan. Captain Matty left us for a moment and went into the dark jungle and after 5-10 minutes, he came back with a Cane Toad. The Cane Toad apparently is RUINING ecosystems as its back has a poison on it that kills anything that tries to eat it. The Australian government has put a bounty out on this young toad's head and allows anyone to kill as many as they like. Captain Matty does not demonstrate this killing on his tour in case it offends an animal activist so he more told us about in his backyard how he plays TOAD GOLF here and there with mates and a lot of times the toads are on fire before they are 9-ironed into the darkness of night and out of his backyard. Overall great trip as it was great to get out of the city and away from work. One more thing, for all of you who know how I can sleep...I took 5 naps on the bus that day (twice the amount of most of the rest of the group). Trust me they were all very needed :)

Less Drinking, More Diving and BREATHING

2010-10-08T21:13:00.000-07:00

LESS DRINKING and MORE DIVING has been the last week or so in Cairns which is a good thing if you have read how the first couple of weeks went. I also got a job the other day which is great as I can now budget and have something steady. The job is with Koala Guest Houses and its amenities are a bit above a hostel and just less than a resort/hotel. I will be working the front desk, booking tours/trips, checking people in and out, opening/closing the front area etc. I am stoked for this job as it was explained to me to be a 'cake' job and the pay is good and the hours are decent. Plus, I get to call the companies we sell tours for (i.e. Skydiving) and let them know I am the new Koala Resorts trip booker and can I come on your excursion as a famile (free trip to familiarize myself with it so I can sell it). Hopefully will lead to some cool events and journeys around Northern QLD.

DIVING IS INSANELY FUN and slightly dangerous. Hard to explain what it is like when you are down there. The world of the ocean is a world like none other. Picture when you go underwater as a kid to dive in the pool for, say, loose change, or someones sunglasses; it is great down there and you wish you could stay down longer but unfortunately your little lungs need to surface for air and you rifle to the top. Well diving is strange in that you do not have to rifle to the top and you can do whatever you want for a good amount of time. It is so bizarre because your mind is saying this doesn't feel right but your lungs say "yeah, we're cool." I can't tell you how much more respect you have for oxygen after going through a dive certification course (trust me as this is coming from a chest breather who has had slight anxiety in the past). I have always been fascinated with being underwater but I hate holding my breath and cannot do it for very long. I knew this course was going to take some mental focus and determination. Let me put it this way, one person started drowning in the deep end on the first day and two instructors had to dive in to save him. He was right next to me. Wow.

THE COURSE I AM DOING is the 5 Day Open Water Diving PADI Certification which involves 2 full days of classroom and in the pool with a Dive Instructor and 3 days aboard a large vessel with other divers to complete your open water training dives and exercises. A lot of the pool on the first day is in the shallow end on your knees and the class (around 12 people) are in a semi-circle facing the instructor. We are all geared up with our regulators in, O2 flowing, etc. The best way I can describe these classes under water is like a kindergarten class for deaf kids. The instructor uses all sorts of hand signals to make us pay attention to him, demonstrate, number the exercises we are doing, join up with our buddy, etc. So the first thing we learn is how to throw away our regulators (the big black thing that is always in your mouth allowing you to breath) and find them by reaching back behind us. Sounds simple but let me tell you it is INTENSE. 3 or 4 in our group had to get up out of the water to breath because this idea of taking o2 away from their lungs made their brain say NOPE. Crazy.

THE FIRST DAY after lunch everyone is told to get into the deep end (16 feet) and tread water for 10 minutes. No more than 3 minutes went by when this beginner swimmer next to me started going under water as he paddled to try and stay above water. Both instructors jumped in to rescue him. Why someone would try and take a scuba diving certification course and can't swim or tread water is mind blowing. Rest of the day was exercises to get comfortable with the BCD (buoyancy control device; inflates and deflates your jacket), the regulator (the black thing that goes in your mouth and provides air), the alternate air source, the tank, the primary and secondary air stages, etc. This day for Ryan McLeod in Australia was the best yet as I was instantly addicted to diving and couldn't wait to get under water again, and when I got dropped off for my final job interview at Koala Guest Houses, I was already on the schedule and was told I would start Tuesday. Had a couple of beers to celebrate and then went to bed early.

Day 2 INVOLVES THE POOL ALL MORNING until lunch at 1pm then classroom after that to take the final exam and do final lessons. 9am, everyone in the pool to do a 200m swim. Everyone passed. Now into the deep end to learn descending and ascending, how to get air from your buddy if your regulator goes out of if you are an idiot and run out of air, how to find a neutral buoyancy, how to let your mask fill up with water and then blow it out, how to take your mask completely off under water and put it back on (more on this in the ocean later). Finished the written exam around 5:30pm, passed, headed home and took it easy again as we were to be picked up at 7:45am to head out on the liveaboard

THE OCEAN WAS SURGING that day. Some rain, wind, people puking into bags, BIG sways and medium sized swells. Guess who has 4 training dives to do in what looks to be a Wet N' Wild wave pool on crack? Our team of 12 innocent travelers that just want to find Nemo on a coral reef. The snorkels that come with the course suck and so you can picture 4 guys and 8 girls sucking down sea water and smashing into the side of the boat as our instructor is explaining our surface training exercises. Some of them involved rescue swimming/carrying of our buddy (pushing and pulling). Some of them require swimming a certain distance, some of them are buoyancy tests. Picture trying to find neutral buoyancy in the conditions described above. It was insane, at one point I just started laughing to myself; is this really happening? I am in the middle of the Pacific Ocean smashing against a large boat and large anchor chain/rope with 11 people I have never met and we are being judged on how well we can not drink seawater. LOL. It was awesome. At this point, I felt as if I am on that new Discovery Channel show, Surviving The Cut. After being battered around over like a bear on a bunny and accomplishing all of our surface exercises, we dive to 12 meters to start underwater exercises.

THERE ARE A LOT OF TRAINING EXERCISES to get your certification but I am going to focus on the one that is the scariest and everyone is afraid of. If you don't know already the open water dive certification is to get to a level of diving where you can go WITHOUT A GUIDE OR INSTRUCTOR. You can dive with a buddy anywhere in the world if you can show your license and log book (describes each dive in detail; depth, bottom time, surface intervals, etc). So from the pool over 2 days to the 4 training dives in the ocean, you are required to gradually practice life threatening situations. The main one is if you lose your mask underwater. This may sound like no biggie in a pool or a lake but let me be the first to tell you that at 15 meters underwater in the middle of the Great Barrier Reef, it is a little bit stressful. So, at first the instructor points at you and runs his pointer finger horizontally up his dive mask half way. This means grab the top of your mask and let water in half way up filling your nose and mouth. To clear, you simply lean back a tad and hold the top of your mask and exhale hard through your nose and you have 'cleared your mask'. Somewhat easy. Then, next dive, he signals for you to fill up your mask to the brim with very salty water from the Pacific Ocean, which isn't exactly like chlorine water if you open your eyes. Then, the final test, yes at 15 meters, or around 45 feet on the ocean floor, you are to COMPLETELY TAKE OF YOUR MASK to simulate it being knocked off while diving, and put it back on. Not exactly something you are excited for, especially when you can't see 20 feet around you, there is sand coming up all around you, underwater currents are trying to move you on your knees to the left and right. IT IS THE MOST FRIGHTENING THING A LOT OF US HAVE HAD TO DO IN OUR LIVES. On training dive 3, I forgot to fill my mask from the top and filled it from the bottom...well...I drank a half a pint of seawater (breathed in through my nose on accident) and spit out my regulator (yes the item that gives you oxygen to stay alive at 18 meters). Due to great training from the days before I remembered to continue to blow out of my mouth everything and Lewis, my instructor, who sees this type of thing all the time and is right there in front of you to make sure you don't drown, put my regulator in and blasted me a breath of air I will never forget for the rest of my life. We have all had panic moments swimming/jumping bridges/etc as a child but this trumped anything I can remember in any deep end of any pool. I couldn't not think about it all night, couldn't get to sleep that night, had dreams about it and woke up every 2 hours. I talked to Lewis about it and he says to me "yeah mate, you don't want to spit your regulator out at those depths...very bad things can happen." I thanked him for putting my regulator back in, and, basically saving my life, and he said "no worries mate, happens a lot on the mask fill test, that is why we are here." Really? Okay so you just keep people from drowning every week that is cool. So, to conquer this new fear of being under, on training dive 4 (our last training dive), before the full mask take off test, I told him I want to do the partial mask fill, full mask fill, and THEN, yep, do the whole mask off. A little bit of saltwater later and some zen like breathing I had practiced all night and morning to Florence And The Machine's Between Two Lungs, I dominated all three and overcame any fear I had the prior day. Again, he was right in front of all of us with his hand on our arm and his other hand right in front of our regulators just casually waiting to make sure you stay alive on the ocean floor. Unbelievable experience. Another girl in our group who was doing well like I was through training also had a small slip up where when we were descending on the last training dive. She went to fix her mask a bit and inhaled/drank about a pint of seawater, had to go back up to the boat and was RATTLED about going down again. I talked to her about it a lot and one make up dive later with her buddy and our instructor, she conquered her fear as well and overcame. This certification is probably the most scariest, fun, intense, and nerve racking thing I have ever done in my life (close second is canyoning in Interlaken, Switzerland).

AFTER TRAINING DIVE 4 IS COMPLETE, you are a certified PADI Open Water Scuba Diver. From here is where the fun started. We had 6 more dives over 2 days on the boat all for pleasure. The night dive was interesting as when we plunged into the water their were small reef sharks circling the back of the boat (where we jump in). Everyone has torches (large gun like flashlights) and it was the first time in my life I ever felt what it would be like to be a Navy Seal. Visibility like 10 feet, flashlights of divers beaming all directions around huge coral walls and coming over a ridge with my team of 5 and merging into another group of 6 divers and now we have 11 lights spotlighting in all directions as we descend down a cavern. Hard to explain diving at night. If you have any claustrophobia or fear of confined spaces I do not recommend going on it. You have no idea how far you are to the surface by looking, you don't know where you are going (except following the guide), and you have no idea what creatures are around any corner, including our good curious friend, the reef shark.

THE WEATHER CHANGED FOR THE BETTER. By day 2 the surging was ending and the sun tried to come out throughout the day. The first pleasure dive is crazy because you have been with your instructor all day (and some evenings) everyday for the last few days and he basically becomes the biggest badass and leader your will ever follow. Well, your first pleasure dive is without him and no one else with any experience hire than 4 dives (like me and my buddy, Merriam). So, just like anything else, you remember your training and everything that has been hammered into your head and you set off to go see Troppos (the reef location we were at that day) on your own with no one else. Merriam did awesome, our dive got to a reasonable 15 meters and were down for about 20 minutes. The dives just got better and better. The weather got better and better. My breathing got better and better (if you breath too much you waste air and can't stay down as long). By the final dive, today (gorgeous weather on the reef; hot, sunny, blue waters...like you picture or see in magazines) we were down for nearly 40 minutes, covered the entire reef dive location and I came up way far away from the boat as we were cruising through so many up and overs, cold water blasts, warm water blasts, currents that launch you over reefs, so many fish, coral, turtles, and crustaceans that it would take an entire other blog entry to describe. The diversity is unbelievable on the Great Barrier Reef. It is something I can only wish everyone could see in their life. Uplifting, emotional, and real it was one of the best experiences of my entire 29 years of living. The best part about it is it runs north/south as long as the entire West Coast of the United States...so...lets just say I will probably be back to see another part of it sooner than later.

ON THE SMALLER BOAT NOW (picked us up off of Ocean Quest II, the liveaboard) headed back to Cairns. Start work in the morning at 8am which is exciting. Final Hilton interview Friday morning which is great. Dave and Jeff should have some good new contacts and stories, it will be great to see them. With a couple of band aids on my left foot, burps of Victoria Beer with some remnant salt water, music in my ears, a tan, a sore upper nose, and a physically/mentally exhausted, yet accomplished mind and body, I am excited to step foot and land and start looking for the next adventure. RCM

Cairns Part 1...

2010-09-29T01:40:00.000-07:00

This place is one big party. It feels like I am on senior trip in Mexico but with WAY MORE tourist oriented things to do; bungee jumping, overnight moon party jungle

excursions (which I was going to go on according to me last night on a pub crawl with Alicia and Emma but woke up this morning and said yeah right), sky diving,

diving, 4x4 tours, boating tours, reef tours, snorkeling, helicopter rides over the reef, etc, etc, etc. This place is like Disneyland for travelers between the age

of 18 and 38. I got into Cairns airport late afternoon and was pleasantly surprised to see a guy holding a sign with R. Mcloud on it. Might have to say that is a first

as we always wonder the day will come when you pass those limo drivers in the airport when your name will be on one. This wasn't a limo driver though. It was a

bushwacking hat wearing pure Queenslander guy with messed up teeth, dirt in his finger nails, and jeans that appeared they were washed last in January. Very friendly

man although who instructed me where the Gilligan's van was. Gilligan's is an over the top backpackers hotel and resort complete with a nightclub, a gym, a waterfall

going into a man made lagoon, kitchens on every floor, and 24 hour reception. This place is pretty cool for $30 bucks a night. I got my 7th night free for booking a

week and the guy at the counter was cool enough to give me a week long locker rental for $20 (normally $7 a night). Checked into my room (a 6 bed deluxe...meaning we

have a TV and a fridge) to find I had the place to myself. Balcony looks west and down on the night club.

The van driver I met at the airport gave me some brief info on the streets as we approached Gilligan's. The main thing that caught my ear was that there was a pub

crawl going on at 9pm out of JB Obriens down the street for $20 and you get 5 drinks at 5 different places. After showering and resting for a bit, I headed out to

find this infamous pub crawl. WHAT A BLAST this thing was. Right away, Snapper, the gentleman who is the business man behind this operation and a few others,

introduced me to Alicia (from Nevada) and Emma (from England) and we became friends within 30 minutes. We 3 joined forces with some other British people to make the

dance floors and places we went to as fun as possible. Let me add in here that my first night Cairns, I saw 2 girls take their underwear and public nudity in private

establishments. You see, on every stop on the pub crawl, Snapper would get on the microphone and do contests. The first one at the first bar was a combination of

musical chairs and a scavenger hunt. Boys and girls dancing on the dance floor would need to go and find things in the bar when the music stopped. Well, one of them

were underwear and Alicia and Emma, my new friends, did not have a problem with this. Long story short, Alicia won the contest and received a buy one get one free on

some kayaking thing for the next day that she was going to take me on (if I went on the overnight thing to Cape Tribulation). Later, actually back in Gilligan's night

club, (3rd stop on the crawl). The game as I remember involved groups of people that had to build a line on the ground of clothing and hats and bar items and none of

them touching could be the same thing. The next thing I notice is their are people ripping their clothes off and running around the bar ripping other peoples clothing

and belongings from them. My white mesh hat had no chance and was soon on the ground helping Alicia and Emma's team with there line of objects. The winning team

barely had clothes on at the end and I have a vague image of young adults holding their 'junk' as their loyalty to the game had resulted in using every piece of

clothing on their body. I don't know what they won.

Day 1 involved going to the bank to get money out and see if my debit card had came yet. It hasn't. Then to the City Center to find a prepay cell phone, find free

Internet in an establishment that sells beer, and to buy postage. Posted up in an Italian place near the food court that had great Internet and $5 beers. Had a

couple and worked on my websites and photography. Back at Gilligan's now for dinner (penne with red sauce) and beer. About to head out to meet Quenten, a bloke of

Mark Kickbush's whom I met on a golf course in Los Angeles. You hear that Australians are very nice and I can tell you that is true. I met Mark for maybe 4 hours and

he has already referred me to people in QLD that I could meet up with. Tonight is ladies night and after last night watching girls dancing on tables at the Wood Shed,

I am very curious to see what a Thursday night in this northern tropical city is like. Tomorrow: start looking for work, find the coast, and find the public lagoon.

Saturday, 26/9/10. This place is unbelievably cool. The other night I went out two Ozzies whom live in Cairns and an absolute BLAST. The night started at Gilligan's.

in our back beer garden and it wasn't very long until the girls said "we are going to take you out dancing and

show you a Cairns night." It didn't take long to agree. Long story short I ended up waking up in a taxi cab at 5am talking to a gentleman I thought was one of my

Irish roommates and he was explaining to me that I owe $30 for the cab and if understood what he was saying. Coming out of my nice taxi slumber, I realized that it is

a Cairns police officer and he was helping me, and the taxi driver out to get me home. He was very nice and helpful and I thanked him sincerely. The main thing I

remember from the night was dancing on tables at the Wool Shed. Hard to explain but this bar is built around the concept of dancing on tables (wooden and rectangle)

to where you can touch the low ceiling so you don't fall over and can be stable. It is very dark and the music is very LOUD. Great bar. I think part of the reason for the lost recollection of the night is due to starting the night off with a box of GOON in our room. GOON is boxed wine and is the cheapest way to to drink in Australia. You can buy 5L for $10 to $15. It makes for a BLAST of a night but the next day can be a bit weary due to the sugar content. I will easily drink it again. Went to the public lagoon

the next day to swim and sunbathe on the sand. Listened to some music and re hydrated. That evening went with Jeff and Dave to Bella Vista to get $5 pizzas and 2 for

1 pints for $5. It is amazing sometimes how being in the right place at the right time works itself out. After beers and starting to feel tight (as Hemingway would

say...we would say buzzed), I noticed a Tusa dive shirt on this woman next to our table. Long story short these two instructors gave me A TON of information on

getting certified to dive. I was even given the director of ProDive's cell phone number and a referral from Steve, the guy I met that night. Prodive has a cook

position open as well that I already have the application for...so calling Alex, the director, today and then going in Monday morning with my app and resume to hit up

Paul (who I emailed with actually back in the states before I came to Oz). ProDive is the #1 dive company in the world and am excited to learn from and hopefully work

for, the best.

My new roommates are very cool. 2 Irish, 1 German, and 2 Japanese. Everyone is very nice and the Irish guys and I have clicked so well that I could see myself

traveling with them at the end of October when they head south in Dave's 4x4. Jeff works at the Hilton in housekeeping and Dave is a painter. Their accents are very

thick and it feels like I am rooming with the Boondock Saints. Tania, who dates Dave, is around here and there and is a very cool Australian from New South Wales.

She offered to send an email for me to the owner for Deep Sea Diving Tours. I met her for like an hour and she was already willing to refer me to someone which was so

appreciated and so kind of her. There are no Americans here. None. I would say for most people with holiday making travelers/workers I come across over here the

English come in #1, then Germans #2, and then Canadians and Australians tied for 3rd. In two cities and like 9 nights out. I have met 1 American who was doing the

same thing I am doing. I wish more Americans knew about this holiday work visa and/or more Americans would get out in the world more. I just feel bad as there is so

much cool shit to see that isn't in our little West Coast backyard. If any of you want info on this visa and or this process of doing a career break or gap year or

two let me know as I would love for people to experience the things/people/places of the world and to broaden their horizons :)

Getting close to finding work. 10 resumes dropped and a couple of call backs and a face to face on Thursday. Keeping fingers crossed. Finding work I wouldn't say is

any harder than any other city in the world except for the fact that there are thousands of backpackers just like me traveling. On the flip/positive side, the fact

that I speak clear and crisp English, have an American accent, and have a positive/outgoing/likeable personality (so the English receptionist at my old hostel in

Brisbane so kindly complimented), it has been easier to be received when approaching establishments. The RSA (liquor license) to serve in Queensland was cake as it

took about 30 minutes online and cost about $70. I didn't get the dive boat hostie job I wanted but I am excited that I got a September discount special with Deep Sea

Divers Den to get my 5 day certification for open water. The first two days are in the classroom and the last 3 are overnight on a large vessel on the Outer Reef of

the GBR. 10 dives in all while out to sea including a night dive with sharks! Should be amazing I am so excited for this as I have always had a fascination with

diving in pools growing up. After the course is over I may have the opportunity to volunteer on one of their boats as well as a hostie for 5 days where all dives and

food and accommodation is provided. Stoked for the future of diving with Ryan McLeod and perhaps photography? Definitely not out of the question...

Cairns is the most explosive small town I have ever been to. It is a bit over 140,000 in population yet it feels smaller than the Pacific Beach area of San Diego. I

can walk from one side of the city to the other in 15 minutes basically. There is 1 post office, 1 grocery store, 1 mall, 1 public lagoon, 1 marina area, and only 1

GILLIGAN'S. Gilligan's never sleeps. Picture a backpackers resort with a beer garden, a night club, an outdoor pool with a waterfall and sand to lay out in, 5

stories like a hotel, communal kitchens/fridges/stoves on every floor, and 600+ people from all around the world drinking beer specials every night. Probably one of

the coolest and most efficient hostels I have ever stayed in. Last few nights been hanging out with the Irish, Torsten (cool German guy in our room), and Deb and

Katie. Deb is a cool chick from the UK and Katie is a very rad hippie from Calgary. They are heading south in a campervan for 30 days and are looking to pick up 2

more people to split the cost. I would join them but I have more of Cairns to see before the wet season hits. Just now getting my feet on the ground and wet and

don't not ready to pick up and move just yet. Cairns has a lot more for Ryan McLeod...

Australia is expensive. For example, going to the movies will cost you $19 dollars. A pack of cigarettes will run you from $12 to $30 depending on the quality of

tobacco you would like to torch into your lungs. Rolling smokes on your own is the way to go to save money. A pint of beer is usually always $7 to $8 dollars. A

case of beer or 30 pack will be anywhere from $30 to $50 dollars depending on domestic and imports. Let go of my arm and my shoulder Queensland I don't even have a

source of income yet to pay for GOON! I get $5 pints at Gilligan's due to staying there and trust me that is an attractive price. I just passed through

Woolworths today to by peanut butter and jelly ingredients and noticed beach towels were over $20 and they did not look big and thick. Just different, but worth it.

The mood, culture, way of life, and scenery is all laid back and chill and their is always a no-rush feeling in the air that I can't seem to put my finger on it just

yet. I have heard that Sydney (from Katie and Deb) is the exact opposite of here. They say there is no work to find, clubs you can't get into, people are in a hurry

like Paris, NYC, and LA, and they LOVED Cairns so much already in two nights as it is just DIFFERENT than the bigger cities to the south. This is not keeping me from

Sydney as the support I have had thanks to all of you friends and family with regard to contacts and connections over here has been AMAZING. Thank you all again who

have extended vouches I appreciate it so much.

Alright, gotta end the first Cairns segment so I can finalize this travel blog and get it ready to email out to everyone. Thank you all for the support I

miss you all and hope everyone is safe and sound. Cheers for now and lots more to come. RCM

Brisbane

2010-09-23T02:31:00.000-07:00

The days are LONG. It is so weird how long these first two days have gone. And I have a year here? Awesome and unbelievable. Went on a run yesterday morning down

to the South Bank and checked out the river, the cityscape, and the shops and boardwalk. Did some meditation by the public pool lake thingy by the lifeguards. The

water was crisp and cold and was very refreshing to splash on my hot and sweaty head from the run. On the way home I stumbled upon a Peach and Tranquility Festival in

the a park. Roamed the vendors and almost walked in front of the small stage where the MC was opening up the event. Headphones and exercise in a new city can really

transcend your mind as I almost walked right between a speaker and an audience and didn't have any clue.

That night was the most fun yet. The girls in 217 showed up late afternoon and it didn't take long for Paul and I to get jugs (beer) and go up to their room to harass

them (nicely). This group in this room is so funny; 1 English guy named Toby, an English girl named Fiona, a German girl named Imke (whom I call

Aetna because she calls me Brian Brown; her friend she knew during her host family time of 10 months in Ohio), and 3 other German girls (Sandra, Lara, and Webe). They all are part of the same

gap year program and have never met but you were think by the way the automatically interact that they have been friends for years. Imke and I hit it off extremely

well. I don't think a minute goes by when we are conversing that we are not laughing. Same sarcastic and matter of fact humor, we just rock the conversation nicely

together with many quips and anecdotes. Probably the funniest one was at happy hour over Strongbow last night where she was talking about a volcano and her English

vocab book hit like a light bulb and she remembered the word LAVA. Lol it was the funniest thing I have ever seen; an ESL cute German girl with her English grammar

and vocab education coming on like a lamp in her head. Imke is an outstanding young woman; smart, educated, funny, kind, and care-free.

We had an OUTSTANDING time

over the course of 4 nights. I hope to see her again somewhere on this globe. I have a feeling I will.

Coffee here is way different than in the states. In a cafe right now and ordered a "short black" coffee for $2.70 and got probably two ounces of frothy black tar

looking liquid. VERY STRONG the coffee is down here. No refills either or waitresses running around filling people's mugs like you would see at a Denny's in the

States. Oh yeah, and the coffee is served in a bar glass that we would usually drink a gin and tonic out of. Tasty though but I think next time I will try the tea.

Alcohol is VERY different. First of all, happy hour is truly an hour. 1 hour. At my hostel it ran from 5pm to 6pm and they let me tell you that due to it only being

an hour, people plan their day around it. The other reason for planning their day around it is because alcohol is fairly expensive in Queensland. The first pint of

beer I ordered was $8 (at my hostel). A jug (2.5 large pints basically), which would be a pitcher in the States, is $14. Happy hour prices go from $14 to $11 for a

jug. The cool thing though at my hostel was that everyday of the week they had specials. For example, one night was $4 Strongbow bottles, another night was $5

dollar Jaeger Bombs from 9pm to 10pm. The thing I have initially noticed about Australia is that because everyone loves to drink and have a good time, the

culture/government has implemented certain rules and restrictions so that every citizen doesn't black out and become poor. The tour guide at the XXXX Brewery told me

that there was a bar that did drink tickets and it went out of business very fast because no one would go there unless they did the deal they initially offered (twas

like 5 drinks for $20 dollars or something stupid like that).

The Fourex (XXXX) brewery was okay. Some videos at the start followed by a cheesy rotating seat watching wax statues talk about the start of XXXX. XXXX competes

largely with VB (Victoria Bitter) which is made in Victoria. Fourex is the very proud Queensland beer (the XXXX Gold and XXXX Bitter are their flagship). The 2nd

half of the tour was simply watching a bottle factory at work but was very cool to see thousands of kegs stacked up as the forklift drivers moved them this way and

that. The labelers were very cool too. At the end we all received 4 sample schooners for the ticket price of $22 which was a good deal.

That day we (Toby, Imke, Fiona, and Lara) all went into the city and saw the Queensland Museum. Free entry to all the Australian museums is great and I feel has

something to do with it being a Commonwealth Country. Favorite part of the museum was the Burke and Wills exhibit

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burke_and_Wills_expedition. It told the story of the explorers that headed north up the gut of Queensland to explore and map out the

middle of the state. They did perish but were renowned as national heroes similar to Lewis and Clark.

I have forgotten how international travel can be so delightfully funny, entertaining, and involving a ton of care free laughter. For one, sitting around on picnic

lick of words from the British. The Australian confuses everyone with his accent and slang. The Germans speak in and out of German so you don't know what or who they

are talking about, especially when they start laughing hysterically and you want to laugh with them but have no idea what is funny. It reminds me of Indiana Jones and

the Last Crusade towards the end when the German says "the Americana, the captain de fieba!" (brother you will appreciate this). Everyone understands me due to the

American accent being so clean and crisp grammar and vocab-wise.

On the final night, the girls, Paul, and I all jumped into the cold outdoor swimming pool (had been raining the last 2 days) as a tradition for people who stay at BBH.

Everyone was in their underwear and no one thought twice about it. After that we all (3 girls and 2 guys) showered in the girls outside bathroom (clothed you

perverts). Tons of laughter and pictures and funny faces and poses and for a moment no one even remembered that we were a combined tens of thousands miles away from

our homes around this very small earth. Funny how 5 strangers from 4 different countries can come together in 96 hours of knowing each other and have so much fun; not

judging, not blaming, not worrying about how they seem or appear to others...simply trying to nullify the loneliness that can come with traveling in far off lands solo

with no shoulders to rest their head on. It was a great time and it was only my 5th night in this country they call Australia and this very interesting state they

call Queensland...very excited to get to Cairns.

Flight Down Under 9.17.10

2010-09-19T20:20:00.000-07:00

Well, here I am. Sitting drinking my first Australian beer in the West End of Brisbane, QLD at a place called Archive. Couldn't tell you one person's name around me as I watch across the street from my sidewalk adjacent outdoor patio a group of young hipsters in weird clothing setting up different sets and props with a blue couch and red different color Asian sun umbrellas. They are all laughing and seem to don't have much a care in the world. Asked for a hoppy beer with a smooth finish and that is exactly what I got. More on beer later.

So the flight was awesome. After a nail biting wait in the ticketing area of LAX, finally on the second group my name was called to come forward to retrieve thy boarding pass and very quickly check my very large and heavy backpack. Met some great middle ages people while waiting for this auction-like feeling of tickets and that feeling of "who is going to make it who has to dwindle off into Los Angeles to buy a hotel room and try again tomorrow." Before arriving to Australia I could tell I liked the men and women. This came from the people I met while waiting to get on the flight and also the flight attendants. You know how on flights in the USA sometimes you get that feeling that "oh shit this stewardess is having a bad day", or "well she is a real bitch isn't she?" Perhaps you get that feeling that they are only doing what they need to do and don't want to go any extra miles? Well, I can tell you, that the service on V Australia, and I would assume all Australian service on an airplane, is the EXACT OPPOSITE. The best way I can explain it, after years of working in hospitality/weddings/catering/etc, is that they all seemed to be working the 320 passengers as if a very large, end of the flight, tip/gratuity was involved at the end of the flight. So eager to help, always smiling, and, if for some small reason they can't help you with your request and it is out of their hands, their apology is SINCERE. More on the people later.

Flight surprisingly went fast. Please quickly note that the 16th of September never did exist for Ryan McLeod and 319 other passengers as we took off late on the 15th and landed in the morning of the 17th. Watched some inflight entertainment for awhile which flowed into a hot and delicious pulled beef meal with mixed veggies and mashed potatoes. The fly time is 13 hours on the new ER-300 (extended range) model of Boeing's 777 series. I waited until about 3 or 4 hours in to take my bar of Xanex...........WOKE UP to the unparalleled service mentioned above awake and active and blasting hot eggs and coffee to everyone in all classes of the plane. My first thought was "Do these people ever quit? Where did they sleep? Um, they just served 320 hot dinner meals and now they are serving 320 more for breakfast?" It was a great wake up to go back to my movie and have some hot tea and a nice meal. I did actually find out where they sleep (these are things that go through my head) as I was using the lavatory before landing. There was a door in between the back row of the plane and the bathrooms that said "CREW ONLY MAX OCC. 8" What blew me away is initially reading this door I thought it was a god damn storage closet! After blinking a couple of times at it and the size of it I couldn't believe they could fit 8 adults in there...it has to go below deck. It has to. The point I guess I am trying to make here; is that while waking up 12 hours into an overnight flight and looking around to hair tossed and drooling people who maybe slept some...there was the dolled up gorgeous and cordial Virgin Australia team looking exactly the same and just as on point as they were when we had dinner. V Australia = Two Thumbs Up.

Life Cycle 1

2010-09-19T20:18:00.001-07:00

Life is funny how it goes in stages of complexity, simplicity, and seriousness.

I can remember as a child the dicotomy of when things started to go from fun and

games to responsibility and one had to be a bit more accountable. For example,

growing up in Tigard OR in Genesis Loop we had a ton of greenway paths and

trails that as a young boy I could bike ride through, build forts, and attack

sticker bushes at will. Things were simple. Ryan would leave home from his

mother and father with a friend and we would go to do boy things and our only

responsibility was to come home by dark and/or dinner. That was simple. Then,

along came, for example a paper route. Now, one day a week I had to be

RESPONSIBLE for 50+ residences to receive their Tigard Times by 7am. More

accountability. Then, through church, we had a pointsettia selling drive where

I had to sell flowers to our neighbors and then deliver them once the

fundraiser. This sucked and I didn't like doing it because I had to take these

f-ing plants one at a time to sometimes 2 and 3 streets over depending on how

ambitious I was feeling on the initial 'door knocking day'. Things are getting

more complex. Then boy scout Christmas tree sales at the A-Boy hardware, then

mowing lawns and having MANUAL LABOR as chores and not just clearing the table.

Then youth group on sunday nights. Sunday nights? Are you kidding me? I think

I can speak for all of us that now on a Sunday night if we had to go to do group

exercises with people we hardly know we would chain ourselves to the couch.

Then you go into middle school and start sports. Then you have high school and

you get a job to help pay for your car. Then you go to college and have a shit

load of school work to do and shit load of drinking to do. Then you have to get

a job right out of college so you can start paying off your loans. Then you get

your first apartment. Then you have a mortgage. Then you have kids and have

every trouble listed above just STARTING again for them which you have to watch

over! I guess I wish that life for our generations would move a little bit more

slow so that we can choose how complex we want our day to days to be. Imagine

if out of college you didn't go into the work force and traveled for five years?

Imagine if the counselers didn't hammer down "what area do you want to focus on

and what do you want to do?" Man, thinking back to when I was a freshman in

college, I HAD KNOW IDEA WHAT I REALLY WANTED TO DO. Drinking beer and talking

to chicks sounded good right? I wish that the American way of life let people

gap year and break from University before they really come of age. I don't

things would be as nearly complex, serious, and stressful. I think our quality

of life rating would be a lot higher too. Funny, thinking back, probably some

of the best thinking I ever did was when I was a young boy beating the crap out

of blackberry sticker bushes.

Portland and Corvallis September 2010

2010-09-19T20:12:00.001-07:00

Portland and Corvallis were good times as I got to see my good friends Theo

Papas, Kelsey New, and John Weaver. First night just hung out with Theo and his

fiance, Stephanie, she is great. She is a very nice and kind young woman and I

feel is a perfect match for Theo. They will be outstanding together. We played

Scattergories into the night and laughed a ton. The funnel of beer pouring on

the ground and the K2 was what filled the night with stomach hurting laughter.

Next evening I got picked up by Kelsey and headed to the Alberta St. area and

went to small beer bar to have some cold hoppy refrershments. We talked a lot

about life and the future, relationships, travel, etc. I forgot how much I miss

her company as she is so whole hearted and charismatic. I love being around her

and everything she is about. We went into the city and had one last beer at bar

and said our goodbyes. From there I walked to meet up with Stephanii and we

went to Barracuda to have drinks upstairs. Felt like I was at a roller skating

rink due to a 18 and younger event going on downstairs. The music was not that

good so after some cocktails, I headed to Couture to end the night with better

music. Good DJ there and it was good to see Theo at the bar where he hooked up

drinks which was appreciated. The DJ let me request Tracking Treasure Down for

the last song and it went off. The DJ was fairly drunk though and wouldn't

answer my questions about Serado and his Pioneer decks.

After Labor Day weekend and my parents party, I headed down to Corvallis. Real

quick; Labor Day party best parts were chopping wood with the monster maul,

seeing all of our old Oregon friends, 9 dogs, and the cornhole tournament that

AmberLynn and I won on Sunday morning over Mimosas.

Got into Corvallis via bus on Tuesday night. Well, actually got into Albany and

after getting a beer at a local little bar by the station, the driver of the 2nd

bus for Corvallis never showed up. Thank you local flaky Albany drug addict bus

driver guy. Jon and Kate came and got me. It was so good to see my best friend

after 7 years. Everything just went right back to normal and I remembered why

we are such good friends. He is one of the funniest guys I have ever met and

his heart is so warm you just feel happy when around him. I hope I can see him

at his wedding as Kate makes him so happy. It is great to see him living

simplistically and so content with his fiance and life. I am excited for their

move back to Portland.

Dice game we played the first night: roll six dice, any threesomes count as

that hundred. So three 3's would be 300. The only way to move on to roll again

is to score. 1's are worth 100. 5's are worth 50. Four 1's on the first roll

is 1000. If you roll a straight (1-6) then you get 1500 points. Four of a

kinds double their point worth so four 4's would be 800. If you roll and don't

get a 5 or a 1 you "Funkle" out and get no points. You play to 10,000.

The next day went fishing at Willamette Park and I caught two Northern Pike

Minnows using worms and a worm weight. That night played some Little Mexico

with Jon in the evening, ate some pizza, then met up with KC and Jesse Ott. KC

is one of Jon's good buddies and we clicked right away. We all went out the

college bars by campus. Played some pool with pitchers then went to Bombs Away

for $2 well drinks. Went back to the house and ended the night with Cracklin

Rosie over and over and over and over which was the funniest shit ever. Jon was

singing and dancing and making everyone laugh. He was on one, or on a roll you

might say...great times.

Lake Arrowhead

2010-09-19T20:04:00.000-07:00

After North Carolina, I had a couple of nights in LA before the Lake Arrowhead

going away party/ Greenman's birthday party. What a great lake this was.

Reminded me of the Pacific Northwest when we headed up highway 18 off of

Interstate 10. It went from desert to forest real fast and it was not a bad

drive at all from the city. The house we rented was beautiful and spacious. 3

stories of floor space, king size beds, rooms, and two decks connecting. We had

our own dock that we could walk down to for swimming and laying out. Our two

decks also had views of the lake and the neighbor's boats. It was a very nice

lake house. Jeff, Mike, and I arrived Friday night to meet Joe, Shelby, and

Chris. I won an 18 game Scattergories game with 3 games to Mike and Jeff's 1

game each. I still don't think Tapestry is a school subject. We into the night

and the next day the rest of the calvary showed up.

The best part about this Lake Arrowhead trip, besides the laughing, dancing, and

invisible jump ropes to California Girls, was the ICINGS. Thanks to Freddie and

Sean in North Carolina, along with the college scene reaching us late 20 year

olds in Southern California, we were able to apply what we had learned to ICE

one another. The first Icing was Emily getting Brandmire in the hot tub where

whe offered cold beers and Mike reached in to only pull out a Smirnoff Ice. The

second Icing was me dangling a Smirnoff Ice one story down off of a balcony with

a telephone cord I found upstairs in the loft. Placed that guy right behind

Kelsey's head and had Jeff and Jayme in on it to get her attention once the ICE

had been set. It made me laugh in a way that Jayme said "I love it when McLeod

laughs like that" so it must have been great :) The third Icing was placed by me

and Jeff and was in the barbecue. I said numerous times "I trust Joe to light

the grill...Joe is good with grills, etc," and sure enough, Joe went out and as

I followed with my camera, Joe lifted up the grill hood to only find a SMIRNOFF

ICE. I know this sounds childish but I guess after 15 years of having fun with

alcohol it is great to find new and creative ways to entertain ourselves. The

fourth Icing, I believe, was on me (which I stated after Joe's I would never be

ICED to everyone), which was a great job by Kelsey to get me in to something I

am passionate about (changing the song on the laptoP). I picked up on it right

away and was hesitant to enter the living room to change the song...but once I

saw that there was no Smirnoff Ice next to my laptop, I was not reluctant to go

over and change to the song she wanted. Sure enough there was and ICE right on

the ground below the little entertainment center. ICED! Couldn't believe it

after calling it.

The next ICING was also a hanger through the stairwell as

Emily was dragged in by Kelsey (who was in on it) to go in the batroom because

she "needed to talk to her immediately." She came out of the bathroom and

walked right into and ICE. Dolan was also Iced when he went for his toiletries

bag in the bathroom, as well as Jones being ICED as we hid one under the

football in the couch cushions and had him 'throw the ball to me.' Oh yeah, I

forgot that Ashlee got ICED by Jeff and I putting one in the microwave and me

telling her that the avocados she heated up in the bag earlier melted the

plastic inside. ICED upon microwave door opening. Later that night we had some

great and serious games of flip cup (thanks to the underage neighbors that lent

us the rectangle table). We also played "Teach Me How To Dougie" a bunch and

the night culmanated with the invisible jumprope that I taught to people (thank

you Lyndsay and Kristen in North Carolina). Everyone did a little double dutch

and the night went into hot tubbing and dancing. Ended the night sleeping well

downstairs :) Great going away as I will miss all of these people dearly.

North Carolina

2010-09-19T19:58:00.000-07:00

After spending the day in Boston taking photos with my large and small pack

strapped to each other (which had a lot of people looking and pointing), I took

the Silver Line from South Station to Logan International Airport to meet

Lindsay Schram. We flew to Wilmington, NC and she was exhausted after a week

long sales meeting with drinking and dodgeball involved. I was planning on not

going out that night but once Birtles got her house after some wine, filet

mignon, and salad, we decided to head Downtown. Downtown Wilmington reminds me

of senior trip in high school in Mexico where all of the ladies are dressed up

for prom night and yet everywhere we went had no cover charge and was laid back.

The first club we went to was Level 5 which was an old apartment building (with

people still leaving in it -- signs on some of the doors as you walk up carpeted

steps/stories that say SHHHHHH PEOPLE SLEEPING) that had a club on the roof that

reminded me of the top of Stingaree in San Diego but without the glamour and

glitz. We left there after meeting a few of Ryan's girls and their friends, had

a few shots and Bud Lights, then headed back out. After seeing a transvestite

in the Duck N Dive, we decided to not purchase a beverage. We double backed and

hit the 2nd level of Goodfellas which, again, reminded me of an end-of-the-night

Cancun Mexico club. Left there quick and stopped in a convenience store to get

beer before 2am hit. Got beer and then juggled multiple after party options

ending with going to one girl's house and leaving to go to another Virginia

girl's apartment in the other side of town. Slept on the couch and got woken up

to some southern hospitality saying "Y'all sure ya'll don't waant a waater or a

Gatorade before y'all leave?" I laughed on the way home about the night and

went back to Lindsay's in Farrington Farms to nap before the trip to Raleigh.

The ride to Raleigh is all green trees lined with nothing on either side of

Interstate 40. It reminded me of Orlando, FL a little bit. It is such a common

and boring drive that the drivers put cruise control on get comfortable in their

seats; at some points it appeared they were more comfortable than I was. We got

into Raleigh around 4:30pm and met up with Kristen who had like a thousand jello

shots. She was a very quaint and nice young girl who drove us to the annual

house party at 8013 Goldwater which is put on by Frankie and Sean (Frankie's

birthday). At the party they had many games out on the lawn and Birtles and I

realized wearing jeans that early in the North Carolina summer humidity was a

mistake. Kristen was nice enough to take us back to the Lexus to change into

shorts. Back at the party I learned a new version of Boozbie that involved a

lower level of PVC piping, an empty bottle of beer, and a "throw it as hard as

you want" rule. It wasn't as good as Boozbie due to the simple fact that the

frisbee is probably not going to be caught when it hits the 2 inch thick PVC.

This party also exposed me for the first time the mysterious conspiracy of

GETTING ICED. Getting Iced involves a Smirnoff Ice bottle being secretly placed

in a location that the would-be taker would see but not see coming. Frankie,

the birthday boy, probably got Iced over 5 times including one from a girlfriend

of his who put it in a birthday bag as a present. We left the house around 10pm

to go change so we could go dancing in downtown Raleigh. Downtown Raleigh was

similar to Wilmington but with a little bit more "clubby" feel to it meaning we

went through some velvet doors at one place and they charged a $10 dollar cover

which I remember Lindsay not being happy about as it is Raleigh, "give me a

break." We went to Cashmere, then to Mirage, and ended at 606. The cab we took

home had one of the best sound systems I had ever heard in it and the back seats

reclined. We all pretty much passed out to Marvin Gaye before I had the guy

stop to get cash so we could pay. Ended the night chatting with Kristen which

was very fun as she is a fun girl. Woke up the next morning with a scratch on

my forehead that I do not know how got there and I hope it does not scar. Thank

you Raleigh.

Next day headed back to Wilmington with Birtles and stopped in Warsaw for some

Subway. The towns to the left and right of us along the I-40 corridor are

called things like Warsaw, and Burgaw. Birtles made me laugh numerous times at

his explanation of the assumed and jokingly inbreeding of the family's last

names in these towns. He said when he is on work calls that he swears the

people he runs across either have the last name Locklear, or Oxendine. I was

rolling. He also informed me that these towns have Lumbee Indians and they are

all related and don't know it. Ryan is a good friend and a great person to

listen to on things such as social situations, women, politics, and drumming. I

am glad I have become friends with him and hope to see and talk to him in the

future. That day in Wilmington we recovered and went to bed early after doing

some Internet photo posting and watching some Discovery Channel. Woke up after

we had calamari and salads with fish added. The sun came out and we headed to

the beach, called Wrightsville Beach which is adjacent to Wilmington and is the

main beach that they all would hang out at. Not too crowded as school had

started that Monday. The waves were just enough to swim in, temp was refreshing

but could almost be colder (thanks humidity), and the sand was white and course.

Watched some frisbee players throwing by the shallow end of the ocean and knew I

could throw with them but never asked. I did ask how the one man threw the

'reverse hammer' and he showed me. I look forward to perfecting, yet, another

way to throw that disc. That Monday night we went to Indochine and had Thai

food which was awesome. Lindsay was so nice to pick up the tab for me, her, and

Ryan. She is so nice and hospitable it is overwhelming and impressive. Stayed

in that night again as Lindsay had to be up early for work again.

The next day Lindsay and I went to lunch at the German Cafe (where she worked in

college and was ashamed to wear the lame St. Pauli Girl type outfits). It was

pouring down rain and it was nice to take refuge in the warm and inviting cafe

that was filled with old German antiques and a nice waitress that Lindsay knew

from when she worked there. After a great Reuben sandwich with a couple of

dark German beers, we took off and headed to the Wilmington Museum. Smaller,

but good museum, that had all of the information I had been feaning for since I

pulled into town Friday night. My favorite part was an exhibit that showed a

man in the 1800's that could read and write and do math could become a

"merchant" and make money by importing and exporting goods. I have never seen

the idea of a business man put so simply as it showed a guy with a small table,

a pen, and some paper stowed away that was working on how to make his next

profit. That night we went out to Yosake for sushi and got there before their

happy hour ended which was great as rolls were like $5 bucks and good signature

cocktails were the same. I met up with Ryan McKay (facilitated through

McDoughana) and Lisa there. We went out to Delux after dinner and then to see

Bibbis (a small young women who has a voice like Arethra Franklin) at the

Whiskey Bar. There we met the members of Gloriana, a band that one an AMA over

Lady Gaga and opens for Taylor Swift. Very nice and inviting people and the

night was filled with drinks, laughter, and photographs (including one I took

standing on a bar stool to get the whole group together).f McKay and I went to

Fatboys on the way back to his house where he proceeded to sing Total Eclipse of

the Heart on a Karaoke machine to end the night. He sang it just like the

wedding singer in the movie Old School and I was dying laughing as I took

pictures. Walked home down market with more pictures in the middle of the

street and the sleeping city flashed its lights at us to go to bed. Crashed on

McKay's couch after some late night pickle and cheese bites out of the fridge.

The next day I got dropped off by Ryan McKay in a power suit as he had already

been doing some sales calls in the morning. Found our way back to Farrington

Farms and I started to pack to head back to Los Angeles. Lindsay came home

around lunch and we had a quick Roberts chicken salad sandwich with a glass of

white wine before my flight. At the airport, I was the only person at the

security gate to go through and exit. Never seen that before. Stopped in

Atlanta and got back to LA where my friend Seth was nice enough to pick me up at

LAX. Overall, a great time in North Carolina -- I could see myself living

there.

Boston, South Shore, and Cape Cod August 2010

2010-09-19T19:47:00.000-07:00

Fenway Park

First night got in on the Bolt Bus (a $16 dollar one way ride of 4.5 hours from NYC to Boston) after a very anxiety ridden ride due to no water, food, or music (rushed

to get on the earlier bus to make time - MISTAKE). One of the worst hangovers I have ever had including puking, coughing, and a guy giving me water to help. The guy

in front of me moved seats as he probably thought I had Ebola. Thanks New York.

Cohasset first night was just a movie and sleeping to recover.

Next day went to Brewster which is a town in Lower Cape Cod. Mike's Aunt and cousins were there for the week and so we were able to join. Went to the beach, cloudy,

but hot and after a cooler crashing on the buggy that carried our stuff to the sand, we were right into some cold Pabst Blue Ribbon. Had good conversation with Seana

& Kara (Mike's cousins) and their friend Kathryn. Eager to talk to Seana as she had been to Australia recently for four months and was excited for my future journeys.

That night we cooked steaks and chicken and salad. All sat around the table to eat and drink which is where Dr. McGillicuddy came in. A Cape Cod favorite that Mike

goes ape shit over, this Menthol mint drink made for an exceptional time around the table with lots of laughter and pictures being taken. Kathy, Mike's Aunt got wasted

and was a riot to watch. That night we got a ride for Mike's good buddy Josh to the Wood Shed (the only bar in Brewster). The Coozies melted our faces with some

serious cover music ranging Sublime to Aerosmith to Jack Johnson. "OH MY GOD" yelled Mike after some songs and we both were the #1 fans there as we air drummed

ourselves into a frenzy. Mike danced to one song and killed it, everyone was laughing. Walked home a mile or two in the dark and then Mike and went swimming in the

pool late night which was very relaxing. No one there and the gate was wide open which was awesome. No security or sounds for miles. Woke up to cut up steak and

sharp cheddar all over the night stand and we both had zonked out in swimsuits above the covers.

Next day headed back to Cohasset to regroup. Stopped in Plymouth at the Blueberry Muffin and had an insanely sloppy burger. Should have gotten the panini. Went

through Scituate to look at the fishing boats and the harbor. Took pictures. Then cruised through the richer area to look at houses and kind of just winded up the

coast on small residential roads that are overgrown with green and foliage. That night went to Hull which is kind of like a small Seaside OR which actually had a

Fascination just like the town on the Oregon Coast. We had a beer at the Red Parrot and then ate some so so food at Barefoot Bobs. Went home and watched Back To The

Future and slept in to catch up on some sleep. Got up and worked on my website while Mike worked.

Last night we left the South Shore and headed to the city to see a Red Sox game at Fenway Park. Incredibly intimate ballpark and was very old and intricate. We went

first to drink at Mike's brothers in Southie which was great. Just me and him out on the deck talking and laughing as we drank Pabst Blue Ribbon and, once again, a

small bottle of Dr. McGillicuddy. He told me that I was one of the main characters in his 'life movie' which was great to hear as I reciprocated the compliment. We

hailed a cab to Fenway, had a beer and then attempted to scalp tickets but had no luck due to getting to the game half way through. We bought $25 standing room only

tickets and then, due to Mike's incredible "Jeter Drinks Wine Coolers" shirt that had many ironed on photos on it slamming Derek Jeter and A Rod, we were able to be

invited to sit about 10 rows back with some fans of the shirt. Jan and Larry to our left and Doug, a Cornhusker to my right, whom talked to me about the upcoming

Husky season. Post game we got carne asada burritos that were like San Diego burritos as you don't find Mexican like that out East much. We then hit the subway to

head to South Station where we ran a detour with two random girls -- a hilarious and interesting episode for about 20 minutes to say the least. It was EPIC fun and is exactly the kind of trouble that Mr. Kearney and Mr. McLeod have known to get into. Tiredness took over and we headed to his bar, Stats, to have a night cap.

Missed Nick Sheef on his yacht in north town but hope to meet him in Thailand in November. On the plane now headed to Wilmington, NC.