Bali- Kuta Beach

Bali is constantly in rush hour; horns honk, scooters zip by, people push past, taxis pull up and ask if I need a ride to the beach a block away. People and noise surround me, pulling my attention in every direction. My eyes try to take in the mass of people; wary of predators and interested in their customs of merchandising; but they are trained to the ground for fear of stumbling on broken cement or stepping on a burning offering. 

They sell me silver rings, colorful dresses, corn on the cob, petrol from Absolut bottles, massages, motorcycle rides, manicures, bags, bintang singlets, bracelets, Aladdin pants, pineapples, surf lessons, wooden puppets, blow darts, a bow and arrow set, magic mushrooms--anything. You want a guy killed, they ask who. You have a girl with you, they ask how much. I haggle and argue for a pair of pants, trying to make up for the obvious nature of my foreign nationality to prove I cannot be fooled. I constantly pat my pockets to be sure everything is there and convert rupiahs into dollars in my head to be sure I didn’t actually just pay $100,000 for a shirt. 

I confidently step out in the middle of the street into the oncoming herd of traffic to cross the street, pushing down my fear of being run over: a simple causality in the daily life of the Indonesian masses. The contrast of crumbling original buildings, ornate carvings, and capitalism’s prominent presence through modern KFCs and McDonalds reminds me that I am in a third world country surviving on its tourism industry. When I finally reach the beach I breath a sigh of relief, thinking I can relax: but I’m wrong. The crowds of merchants increase and the ferocity of their selling pitches grows with the heat of the sun. 

I run towards the water, mostly to cool my feet from the scalding sand, but also to get away from the madness. The water is warm, but still refreshing as the waves crash onto the stony sand. I close my eyes and think how amazing this all this-- I never imagined that I would be in an Indonesian country and yet here I am--standing in the Indian Ocean, surrounded by better friends than I've ever really had, on this amazing adventure and I am just so thankful. I begin to think how my grandparents--even my parents--would never have had an opportunity like this and I are so incredibly thankful it brings tears to my eyes. I become motivated to give the kids I didn't know I wanted all of this and more. I feel connected to God again and say some prayers as I slowly slip into sleep on the sand, the sun searing my skin, sweat pouring off my body, and a smile lingering on my face. 

Under the Australian Sun

Pictures of the sunsets and sunrises throughout Australia

sunrise from my dorm window

Rainbow over my dorm building

Philip Island

Philip Island

Sunset over Brisbane

Sunset in the Whitsundays

Sunset in the Whitsundays

Sunset in the Whitsundays

Great Ocean Road Sunset

AFL game sunset

Outback Sunset

Outback Sunset

Outback Sunset

Outback Sunset

Outback Mountain climb

Outback Mountain climb

Leaving the Outback

Grade-School Flashbacks: Bus Rides

Riding the bus to school was a right of passage for all kids growing up. You start out as a scared little kindergartener trying to fit in with the older kids until you grow into one of the cool kids who rules the back of the bus. Then, once you finally feel comfortable with this mode of transportation, you switch schools and start at the bottom again. For me, riding the bus was something I always was a little afraid of. Being in afternoon kindergarten I got to ride to school with all my friends, but on the way home the bus was filled with loud older kids who I didn’t know. The troublemakers ruled the bus and always got us yelled at. My friend liked sitting in the back as I tried to convince him to sit up front with me away from all the chaos. We had a transfer at the public school where I clung to my older neighbor so I wouldn’t get lost in the mass of children. As I grew up it got better, but a part of me would always be fond of the quiet morning rides to school with my handful of other afternoon kindergarteners. 

Since being in Australia I have been on 5 bus rides that have lasted over 12 hours. Driving is one of my favorite activities, but being stuck in the back of a hot, bouncy bus that smells like fish and throw up has caused an involuntary cringe reaction whenever someone mentions a bus ride. However, traveling through the Australian countryside by bus has offered me a unique experience of viewing this country. 

Sydney

The second weekend in Australia, right before classes began, we took a bus trip to Sydney for Marti Gras weekend. The bus left Thursday night and arrived 12 hours later in Sydney Friday morning. We all thought an overnight bus wouldn’t be that bad, we could easily sleep and feel well rested for our big adventure in Sydney the next day. We could not have been more wrong. Because of the cool weather outside and all the warm bodies inside, the windows were constantly clouded with fog, meaning the bus driver had to keep the air conditioning on. Having only been in Australia for a couple of weeks, I still assumed it was warm everywhere you went, so I did not bring any pants. My friend Carol and I huddled together for warmth, wrapping ourselves in our bath towels and extra T-Shirts. As if this wasn’t bad enough, somehow the entire bus smelled like rotting fish for the entire trip. No one knew why or how--maybe someone thought it was a good idea to bring dead fish in their bag or had jumped in a putrid pond before boarding--but entering the bus your nostrils stung with the stench of decaying fish. After the 12 hours straight, then three days of short bus rides, we were all driven a little mad by the final 12 hours home. Someone tried sleeping on the floor, I’m pretty sure I heard sobs up in the front of the bus, and when I looked over at Carol in the middle of the night her laptop case was on her head, which I believed to be a completely normal way to sleep. Arriving back at school Tuesday morning around 7am left me 2 hours to shower and power nap before my first class where people still probably remember me as the girl who smelled vaguely of fish. 

One Fish Two Fish

Generally, the bus rides on One Fish Two fish were not that bad. The first day they were filled with games and laughter, everyone getting to know each other as excitement filled the air. We were all content with the bus situations since the temperature was regulated and the air did not smell like seafood. By the end of the trip the bus rides got quieter as everyone cherished this time to catch up on much needed sleep. We took in the scenery from Brisbane to Cairns, seeing banana farms and palm trees line the roads. However, there was one ride that will forever cause an involuntary shudder to run down our spines when “overnight bus” is mentioned. The guides admitted that this overnight bus taking from Brisbane to the Whitsundays would be the worst part of the entire trip; so everyone thought it would be a good idea to drink, what else is a group of 60 twenty year-olds to do on a long bus ride? Knowing my own history with carsickness I refrained from drinking, not wanting the evening to end badly. Not everyone was as careful and after about 4 hours in someone lost control of their stomach. The mood was killed, and for the remaining 8 hours the air reeked of vomit; we even resorted to passing around a bag of Doritos to smell in an attempt to clear our nostrils of the stench; and I was stuck in the middle of the very back row leading to a hot and bumpy ride.

The next morning when I woke up everyone was mostly still asleep. Looking out the window I was greeted with the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen. The sky was a mix of hot pink and clear blue. Trees and mountains dotted the horizon as puffy clouds reflected the morning sun’s rays high above. It was an unexpected moment of peace and serenity allowing me to remember and appreciate where I was and the adventure I was on. 

Great Ocean Road

Traveling the Great Ocean Road is a very driving-based activity. You drive along the winding road, one side steep mountain cliffs, the other tall blue waves crashing on the white shores. There is beauty everywhere you look, so much it is hard to take it all in and impossible to capture on camera. The Loyola group traveled the Great Ocean Road together led by three tour guides who drove the small van manufactured in the 70s carrying all of us. On the trip we got to see all the highlights: The Twelve Apostles, Loch Ard Gorge, Torquay Beach, wild koalas, Apollo Bay, and a few other look-out points along the road. It was all fascinating and beautiful, just like so much of Australia. In between naps and staring out the window, we all needed some entertainment so the guys of the trip decided to create a “mortal combat” scenario and bracket all the girls to see who would win in an ultimate fight to the death. I made it to round 2 and lost by one vote after much debate, so I was content. 

At this point in the trip I had already become so close with the Loyola group, but traveling the Great Ocean Road with them solidified my knowledge that these were a great group of people. I would not have wanted to do it with any other group and it was probably my favorite bus ride experience of the trip thus far. 

Outback

Where exactly is “The Outback”? How far do you have to drive before you are in “the bush”? Do they have bloomin’ onion farms in the outback? I had pondered these questions before coming to Australia and was looking forward to our class trip to the Outback to find some answers. We drove about 13 hours before reaching a town called Broken Hill where we stayed for the majority of our outback adventure. We drove during the day both to and from the outback, which at first seemed like a terrible idea but actually worked out well as we stopped often. I napped most of the day ride there, falling asleep to the repetitive landscape passing before me, until the paved roads turned into dirt and the back seat of the bus became increasingly bumpy and carsickness threatened to turn me into the “girl who puked on the bus”. Luckily I was able to switch seats and made it to the end of the journey vomit-free. 

In Broken Hill there were no bloomin’ onion fields but instead a whole lot of nothing that is considered “the bush” accurately named for the abundance of sand, dirt, and small shrubbery that covered the endless landscape. We explored an old mine (reminding us all of the setting of the movie Holes), the town of Broken Hill (reminding us all of the setting for any horror movie), a sheep shearing farm (reminding us of the lovable sheep Babe as we watched their aggressive haircuts), and high mountain to watch the sunset (reminding us that we were literally in the middle of nowhere). People often use the phrase “there is literary nothing out here” to describe a small town or remote location, but they do not know the true meaning until they are standing on top of a mountain watching the sun set over a stretch of land that has literally nothing to break up the empty land of sand and bush. It was an incredible experience that reminded you how very small you are in the grand scheme of things. 

Beginning with cold and fishy and ending with empty but interesting the extensive bus rides I have been on will forever be a part of my Australia memories. Riding in a bus with all of my friends has been an interesting way to see the countryside, allowing me to take in all the scenery, vegetation, landscape, and wildlife. That being said, after a few too many grade-school flashbacks, I am seriously looking forward to the flights to my next adventures. 

Bits and Pieces

We have two months left in Australia and while it makes me a bit sad to see the end in sight, reflecting on how much I have already done and how much I still have planned fills me with the same excitement I had waking up that morning of departure. Over the last 10 weeks I have collected bits and pieces of things that represent certain experiences or particularly fun days. I have pinned them to a bulletin board in my room that is now half full of adventures and memories. 

Here they are: 

Orientation Name Tag: “Kathryn Tafelski. Loyola Maryland. USA. Study Abroad. Arts Clayton.” These identifiers on the tag were all I was when I got here. I don’t think I wore the name tag once, and now it has a stickers from an apple and an avocado stuck to it. 

One Fish Two Fish/Sydney flyer: The one seminar of orientation we all made sure to attend was when the representative from the Extreme Adventure group came. He played a promotional video for One Fish Two Fish that gave us all chills. We ended up attending both trips which was amazing.

“I survived the Edge” bracelet: A yellow wristband I received for going “on the edge” of the Skydeck in the city. The Skydeck is a very tall building with a viewing deck at the top (much like the Sears Tower in America). The Edge is their way of making money off of you by making you pay extra to go in a box that comes out of the building with darkened sides, then goes to clear glass in an attempt to scare you. It was very anti-climatic and a bit disappointing, but the rest of the sights were amazing and made me feel very lucky to be in such an amazing city. 

Tag from AU flag shorts: I bought a pair of shorts from the Blue Mountains gift shop that are blue and have the design of the Australian flag on them. The tag was also a flag, which I kept and hung up on my bulletin board. I later learned in my Australian history class that wearing the flag has become a recent fad, first used in the 2005 Cronulla riots, which was a very racist event, and now worn at sporting events. I now feel a little silly and very touristy for having them. 

Mardi Gras Party ticket: A ticket I never needed to get into a Mardi Gras party in Sydney. 

Django Unchained movie stub: The first rainy day here we went to a movie. I felt a little weird about going to see a movie while I was in Australia, like I should be spending my time in a better way. The movie was great, even though I fell asleep for a little in the middle, and in the end it was a nice way to spend a rainy day with friends. 

Trivia Night stub: One day after our fourth hour of Theology my friend Carol and I decided to join two other girls at the bar on campus for dinner and drinks. To our surprise the bar happen to be closing as soon as we got there for the Chemistry society’s Trivia Night. We were invited to buy a ticket and stay. We were convinced by the 3 free pitchers our table received and stayed to participate in the event and ended up winning the whole thing. It was unexpectedly one of the best nights here. 

St. Patrick’s Day balloon: Towards the end of the St. Patty’s day festivities I went up to my best friend who was talking to a boy at the bar, sucked the helium out of a balloon, and introduced myself. Luckily, they thought it was funny and shared the rest of the balloon with me. I found the deflated balloon in my purse the next day. 

Elizabeth’s Drawings: The night before I left my sister gave me a journal with some pictures she had drawn me inside and in the Easter basket I got from home had a nice piece of cardboard with her drawings of our names and hearts on them. They are beautiful reminders of my favorite person in the world who I am so far away from. 

Hawaiian Leis: These came in the package I bought from the Loyola girl who was here last semester that I wear to random events with my best friend. 

Melbourne Zoo Map and Steve Irwin Zoo Visitor’s Guide: Even though I don’t really like animals, visiting the zoos in Australia have been a really fun time. 

Boomerang Magnets: I bought these in Sydney at the Blue Mountains gift store to hand out as souvenirs to my family. They remind me of how much family I have and how many more souvenirs I still need to buy. 

Scuba Diving CD: When we went scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef a professional photographer was under the water with us taking our picture by a large piece of coral. I look absolutely frightened in the pictures, but I knew I needed to buy one to commemorate the experience. I still haven’t downloaded it off the disk for fear of seeing myself again, so the whole disk just hangs on the board now. 

Bungee Jumping Certificate: The scariest experience of One Fish Two Fish and I got a certificate to prove I did it. 

Great Ocean Road voucher: The first day at Monash they gave us a business card-sized voucher for the Great Ocean Road trip that was included in our tuition. We were told that it was very important not to lose it as it was our ticket to the trip. On the day of the Great Ocean Road we were all made sure we had our tickets, and they were never even collected. 

AFL Ticket: Last weekend our whole group went to an Australian Rules Football Game with our history class. The teacher’s favorite team is Carlton, so everyone wore blue and white in support. I decided to root for Adelaide, the opposing team, just to be sure the out-of-state team would have some fans in the crowd. I became a die hard fan for the day, cheering for players I didn’t know but certainly did not mind looking at. 

Beer Olympics Bandana: One Saturday we decided to hold a beer olympics. I was part of Team Chad, our outfits represented the Chad flag colors and our desire to win. Despite with initial doubt, after Round One we were in the lead. We would have won, but things got a little out of hand, drinks spilled, people got hungry, and the games ended early. I am still very proud and count it as a win nonetheless. 

Assassins Spoon: The twelve-floor building I live in held an “assassins” tournament where everyone got a spoon with a persons name and room number on it and had to tap that person with their spoon in order to “kill” them. You would then acquire your next target and keep killing until everyone was dead. I made my first kill (Bonnie 1115) at the end of the first day with some mild stalking outside her door. My next target was Connor 504, aka one of my best friends here. I leapt for joy at the ease of which I would be able to kill him (and the fun I would have in doing it). I could barely contain my excitement as I pulled out my spoon and tapped him with it. He was instantly furious, a sore loser, and found loopholes in order to come back to life and stay alive. I was killed later that night and was not too upset with my death, as long as she killed Connor quickly, which she did. 

With two months, a trip to the Outback, Bali, and other surprise adventures left, I am sure the other half of my board will quickly fill up with tangible memories for me to take away from this experience.

The Aussie Barbie

A story about a routine activity
make a new friend

Coming to a foreign country food is always a major concern. Will the food be similar to what I eat at home? What if I don’t like their food? Where will I find my favorite foods? However, coming to Australia, a very westernized country, I was not too worried about getting all my meals. That was until after the first couple of days on our own in our new home we realized that everything on campus closed at 4:30 and finding a good dinner was harder than expected. After a few days of Dominos and PBJ sandwiches, we all decided to start finding better options for dinner.

In the Australia a barbecue, or "barbie" as it is commonly referred to around the world, is more than just a meal of grilled meat and some side dishes. It is a traditional social gathering that bonds people forever. So, in the Australian spirit, we began to barbecue all of our dinners together.

Now almost everyday there is a post in our Facebook group saying, bbq 7:30?, and we all gather around the grill to cook a variety of food. Chicken, veggie burgers, vegetables, and all sorts of steaks line the grill as we stand around chatting about our day, telling funny stories from the previous weekend’s shenanigans, and discussing our plans for future Australian adventures. It has become such a welcomed part of my day that without it the day feels incomplete. 

If we aren’t grilling we often find another way to share a meal. Whether it is a stop at Lord of the Fries in the food court before a movie on a weeknight, a salad and homework in between classes, a drunken KFC or Maccas sandwich in the middle of the night, or a trip to the Chicken Bar for a souvlaki on a hungover Saturday, eating together has bonded this group in ways only a shared love of food can. 

At home our family gathers around the table for dinner every night to share a home cooked meal and each others company; it is one of the things I miss most when I am at school. Being able to share a meal with my companions here in Australia has made them become closer to me than just friends, they are my family here and this adventure would not be the same without them. 

So while it started as an incredible inconvenience that every food place on campus or in the area closes before a standard dinner time, it has led to many memories made standing around the grill enjoying the process of making a meal together. 

One Fish Two Fish: Land Adventures

See and experience as much as I possibly can

A story modeled after a reading assignment:

   http://www.worldhum.com/features/travel-stories/shooting-kakadu-20121202/

One Fish Two Fish. The 10 day spring break adventure from Brisbane to Cairns. I had been told this trip is the highlight of the entire Australian semester abroad. The adventures are extreme and the sights are breathtaking. It is unlike any experience you have ever had or will ever have again. 

Knowing all of this going into the trip, my expectations were set pretty high. I wanted to do everything and see everything, to take it all in and never forget it. However, attempting to capture these memories in photographs turned out to be a more difficult feat than jumping off the bungee platform. I snapped endless pictures, trying to capture the perfect beauty before me from every angle so I would never forget these pieces of paradise. 

But how do you capture the thrill of a boat running through white water rapids? The awe experienced awakening after a grueling 12-hour, puke-smelling, overnight bus ride to the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen? The surreal experience of walking neck craned upwards to see the entire milky-way lighting up the sky? The fear of seeing a massive fish swimming too close to your legs in clear blue waters? Each destination brought new experiences and sights to capture along with new emotions to record with the photographs. I was reminded of this challenge at every stop, each place carrying its own beauty waiting to be appreciated.

Carlo Sandblow and Rainbow Beach

Carlo Sandblow

After a two hour bus ride complete with multiple communal bags of wine passed around, games being played, new friends being made, and the initial excitement of finally being on this amazing trip still lingering, everyone was in an exceptionally happy mood. Our first stop was to the Carlo Sandblow in Rainbow Beach. Chatter filled the air as we made our way through a small bit of forest until we reached the end of the walk and were silenced by the amount of sand in front of us. Straight ahead was a mountain of sand that looked impossible to climb, to the right we could see the blue water in the distance, and to the left a steep decline to a cliff overlooking the rest of the water. 

sand shadows

I pulled out my camera and began to take pictures, of sand. No picture could capture the vastness of this sandblow, or the thrill of running down the mountain of sand so fast that you feel your limbs becoming disconnected from your body, or the anticipation of what this trip would bring felt when looking over a cliff out into the blue Australian waters. Instead we took goofy pictures of our shadows in the sand and pictures that made it look like we were jumping off the cliff, the sand and waters framing our bodies midair. 

The next day as everyone was finishing dinner, my friend Carol and I had some time to kill so we took a walk around the small town of Rainbow Beach. We pondered why it was called Rainbow Beach as we walked; maybe there was a rainbow when it was first discovered, maybe the guy who found it was gay, maybe he really liked Skittles, maybe it used to be a big gay party beach turned quaint retiree village; but it wasn’t until we reached the water that we understood. Somehow every color of the rainbow was present during this sunset hour. The reds, oranges, and yellows were muted and fading away with the sun; the greens and browns and tans were in the sand and the trees behind; the blues and purples and whites were all mixed in the water. The colors weren’t distinct, but they were definitely present and the name Rainbow Beach could not have been more fitting. We kicked ourselves for not bringing our cameras, knowing how hard it would be to describe the fascinating display of nature’s beauty we had just stumbled upon. 

wild dingo

Fraser Island 

The world’s largest sand island, complete with freshwater lakes, rainforest, wild dingos (one really did eat a baby), a shark feeding ground, roads that can only be navigated by off-road vehicles, and a highway located on the sand where waves hit your car and sends you flying. As our tour guide rattled off facts about this unique little place I tried to take a few pictures out of the vehicle window; however, the sand roads were so bouncy and uneven severe carsickness set in and I was unable to get any photos that weren’t blurry. When finally on steady ground, I couldn’t capture how giant and powerful the waves were crashing behind me, or how clean the freshwater lake was, or how dense and old the rainforest felt surrounding me. This strange little quirk of an island intrigued me with what secrets could be hidden deep in the sand or in the depths of the rainforest, igniting a sense of adventure that the few pictures I had at the end of the day would never show. 

our transportation around the island

driving along the highway

The Whitsundays

The most beautiful place I have ever seen. Hands down, no questions, 110% the best. In awe, I snapped away on my camera knowing that my point-and-shoot Panasonic could never capture the subtle variations in the blues and greens and whites in the water. That you would never be able to see the silvers of white poke through as the water shallows and a sand dune appears in the middle of the ocean in a picture from so far away. That the white sands would look like shreds of paper, not diamonds scattered catching the sun in ways I didn’t know sand could. That the pictures of the coral washed up onto the shore would never truly show the fascination I felt looking at the intricacy of each piece of the sea. I knew you would never be able to feel the life teeming from the dense green foliage on the islands clustered through the water. I knew the sunset over the water would not show how happy I was to be witnessing this natural beauty with great friends. I knew that seeing a little white dot on the corner of the picture would not bring the same sense of disbelief that I felt when I saw a fancy yacht coast by and thought how could I possibly be on the same island as these millionaires? I took a new picture every few steps anyway, in vain hopes that one may contain something the others didn’t to help me tell others about this paradise. 

White Haven Beach

South Molle Island Sunset 

At the end of the day, the most frustrating part was not the inability to capture these beautiful places in a photograph, but that they were so indescribably amazing that I was actually at a loss for words. But I try. I try so that these memories will be preserved forever. So that maybe one word or one picture will trigger the plethora of emotions I felt during this trip and I will feel again the out-of-body happiness that was One Fish Two Fish. 

One Fish Two Fish: Water Adventures

A large portion of my recent ten day spring break trip was spent in the water. From swimming in the clean waters of Lake McKenna on Fraser Island to spending three days on the beautiful Whitsunday Islands to white water rafting and ending it all by exploring a rainforest on the last day, I had many amazing water adventures. 

I felt most at home in the fresh water rivers, even though they were unlike anything I had previously experienced. On Day 7 we went white water rafting on the grade 4 rapids of the Tulle River. The area had just experienced a good deal of rain and the dam at the top of the river was letting the maximum amount of water through so we had the best possible conditions for the wildest ride. Having witnessed the power of the Niagara Falls rapids I was excited to try my hand at conquering this natural powerhouse. 

Rafting the Tulle

Paddling along the Tulle, I was like Lewis and Clarke exploring new regions of my inner thoughts as remote and unknown as the Louisiana Purchase. Our guide, a humorous Sacagawea, kept my mind grounded and body boated as I took in the rapids before me and the rainforest cliffs above. Revelations flowed like the water hitting a rock adapting its course to the obstacles presented, the kind of revelations that only make sense in the water.

The fresh waters of the Tulle were dark and fierce as they crashed over massive rocks. This was a major contrast to the calm, breathtaking, indescribable beauty we had just been surrounded by for three days on the Whitsunday Islands. 

White Haven Beach, The Whitsunday Islands

Easter Sunday was our first day on the Islands and was one of the best day of my life. Surrounded by water every containing every possible shade of blue to green, my happiness was as pure as the white sand. The impossibly blue water stretched until it met with the cloud-dotted sky at a point that was surely the edge of the world. Riding in a speed boat and taking it all in I finally felt like I understood what Charlie from the novel Perks of Being a Wallflower meant when he said, “And in that moment, I swear we were infinite,” as I had never felt more in awe of being alive.  

Easter Sunday on the beach

Not only did we get to explore these immaculate waters on a speedboat and day-long Catamaran ride, but I was lucky enough to snorkel through multiple reefs and scuba dive on the Great Barrier Reef. 

snorkeling

My first time snorkeling I was very nervous about how the permanent residents of the reef would react to this human home invasion. My heart rose to my throat and panic ensued as I saw the giant fin pass along side me and disappear into the great blue beyond. I wondered what other of his friends followed and I began to swim as if they indeed were chasing me with their mouths open waiting to devour my exposed toes. 

As the waters got shallower and I could see the bottom, I was able to calm down and enjoy the sea life unfolding before me. Floating along the top of the water I observed the fish darting in and out of coral and the strange sea plants opening and closing like they were breathing. I felt like I was finally apart of my favorite childhood Disney film, The Little Mermaid, swimming with all my friends just waiting for them to burst into song. 

The Great Barrier Reef

Scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef was one of the coolest things I have ever experienced. Schools of fish weaved through the coral, us just guests in the precious ecosystem they have created for themselves hidden from the dangers of the world. My bubbles floated to the surface like jellyfish as I focused on breathing slowly in and out of my mouth respirator avoiding the temptation to inhale through the nose. This adapted breathing soon became second nature and I was able to take in the incredible sights before me: fish the colors of electric purple and blue that surely glowed in the dark, coral so vibrant and intricate that with one accidental bump I feared I would ruin its existence, small sand colored fish that blended into the bottom for survival, a Nemo fish happily swimming in his anemone, plateaus of coral with small ridges that were home to even more sea life, the colors of the ecosystem popping like the neon lights at a dance club. 

We continued along what I believed to be the bottom, then, making a slight adjustment, went over a ridge of coral and found a whole new level to the bottom of the sea to the explore. The possibilities were as endless as fish and I was never more thankful to have a guide on my arm steering me in the right direction so I would not be washed out to big blue beyond. 

Returning to the surface I felt different. Besides the ears still popping and heart still racing, I felt like I had witnessed a great secret. I had become a part of the underwater world that previously was so foreign and inaccessible and I was full of awe. The same awe that had filled me while riding on the speedboat the first day was back and it would continue to emerge throughout this trip of a lifetime. 

happiness after scuba diving

One Fish Two Fish: Air Adventures

do something that scares me

bungee jumping

bungee jumping

The stairs creaked as I made my way up to the looming platform in the sky. I refrained from peering over the edge at the turn of the staircase. The climb has got to be the worst part, I thought, once I get up there it won’t be that bad. Reaching the top, I kept my composure in check. I gave simple answers to the tattooed adrenaline junkies working the top and tuned out their foreboding scream-o music and focused on my breathing. You will be fine. You will be fine. 

I sat on the makeshift bench and let the attending take care of my safety. With a backup harness on my waist and just a towel and rope wrapped tight around my legs, I made my way to the edge.   I can’t, I can’t, I said as I struggled to tip toe forward to the bitter edge of the platform. He instructed me how to hold my arms; I promptly forget and reconciled with the fact I was going to snap my neck at the bottom. 

“You can. Now smile at the camera and jump.”

Are you kidding me? Smile at the camera? I’m not worried about looking nice for a picture I’m about to jump off a freaking 164 feet ledge! 

Every cell in my body screamed not to inch closer, not to look down, not to jump off the platform; but I overcame the sharp stinging protective instincts and leapt (well more like fell) towards my imminent arrival at the lake below. My eyes squeezed shut as the air whooshed past, leaving my still churning stomach 164 feet above.

I’m gonna throw up, ohmygod I’m gonna puke right into that lake. Oh no, I’m going back up again. OPEN YOUR EYES!

 My limp arms flopped like a rag doll as the weight of my body tightened the chord of the rope and shot me to the top like a rock soaring out of a slingshot. I caught back up with my stomach and frozen voice-box at my jolting return to the top. Screams and curses flew uncontrollably out of my mouth as the cheers from those yet to experience this paralyzing terror erupted below.

Okay how many times do I bounce up and down like a yo-yo? I should have counted the people who went before me. Ohmygod I’m cursing and everyone is cheering for me I sound ridiculous. Oh shoot what was I supposed to do with my arms? Chin down and dive arms right? Well I messed that up. I wonder if they can tell how terrifying I am. Alright, seriously now I’m ready to get down.  

As the strong attendant lowered my shaking and limp body onto the raft to untie my feet he asked how it was. 

Terrifying, incredible, life-changing, stomach-dropping, heart-pounding, unnatural and unreal, never doing it again, can’t believe I closed my eyes, get me out of here, get me a drink, how am I still shaking? 

All these thoughts ran through my head and all I managed out of a scratchy through and shaky voice was good. Feeling failed as a creative writer but accomplished as an adventurous soul I made my way to the next victims, as innocent as sheep waiting for the slaughter, all eager to hear about my experience.

“That was the most terrifying experience of my life,” I recounted my entire body still quivering uncontrollably; the cells that previously warned me not to jump were now rejecting the adrenaline and punishing me for putting them through so much fear. 

“Was it easier to go face first instead of dive?” A friend asked. 

“Is that what I did?!” I asked unable to recall the pinnacle moment when I jumped. She laughed and began her journey up to the steps. 

Poor chick doesn’t even know whats coming. 

I shook my head and headed to the bar to grab a drink before my turn at the swing, which I knew would be a breeze compared to the stomach-dropping, death-defying jump I had just accomplished. Before I my fingers could stop shaking my group made our way to the three-person swing. We were to be strapped in then hoisted up and back so when released we would swing out have the most amazing view of Cairns. I was completely calm until they began to raise us up. 

Why are we going so high? Oh no we’re as high as the bungee platform. I didn’t think it would be this high. It’s raining. Of course it would rain as we go up. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. The light is green. Oh shit the light is green. Amanda is gonna pull that rope soon and we are going to fall right on our faces; straight down and land on our face in a bush. Why hasn’t she pulled it yet? Come on Amanda pull the freakin’ rope! Here we goooo!

For an instant we were floating through the air, separated from the harness as we fell and then were swung through over the ridge and back. My petrified screams soon turned to insane laughter as the swing slowed. My heart rate returned back to a normal rhythm and the smile spread across my face. 

I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I did that. I am SO glad I did that. 

Australian Wildlife: Penguins and The Roo

What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Australia? The Kangaroo. 

our Roo friend

Endemic to Australia, these marsupials live what appears to be a pretty great Aussie life. They get to hop around through the bush all day and are found extremely exotic to those who live off the continent. Portrayed as kind and lovable through the cartoon Kanga and Roo in Winnie the Pooh, it is not uncommon to have the desire to envelop them in a cuddly hug. However, that is unadvisable because they pack a wicked punch and have extremely powerful hind legs. 

Even though I was forewarned that because my University is in the suburbs of one of the largest Australian city there would not be kangaroos running through campus, I was still a little disappointed not to have one greet me at the airport. My obsession with finding one grew as they taunted me on the one dollar coin, in the media advertising, and upon finding out that I would be missing a chance to see them at the Healesville Sanctuary for a trip to Sydney. Being in Australia has felt so incredibly unreal that I knew when I saw a kangaroo the enormity of the trip I was on would finally hit me. 

me with the Kangaroos

So when the chance to spend a Saturday at the Melbourne Zoo came about, I jumped on the opportunity.

After taking the wrong bus, sitting on a train for over an hour, and wandering through a poorly laid out zoo in the pouring down rain, reaching the kangaroo pen was like finding the prize at the end of a particularly unflavorful cereal. 

We entered the pen and was immediately greeted with an emu making its way along the  path with the other human guests of the zoo. The enclosures in the pen were no more than a simple log fence, with no wire or ability to restrain any animals, so they made their way as freely as the guests. The emu’s massive body, long neck, pointy beak, and beady red eyes did inspire some fear as it stared into my soul and made its way directly for me, only to divert its path at the last second. 

However we soon reached the kangaroos and all the perils of the day were gone as a brief ray of sunshine shone and we waited patiently for the annoying teenagers to leave and the roos to come out and play. And come out and play they did. One smaller guy seemed to take a particular interest with us and got close enough to touch and take pictures with. Unwilling to turn my back on the creature, I did not get a picture taken with it, but did get to touch its fur quickly before backing up and pretending I didn’t just violate it’s personal space. 

 kids the kangaroo almost punched

Others were much bolder with their endeavors to befriend the creatures; especially a group of young children who got so close the roo raised up to its full height and I was sure it was going to punch the plucky young kid right in his chubby gut. But of course, the roos seemed to enjoy the attention and hopped about happily unafraid of confrontation. 

It struck me how a place like this could never exist in America as there would always be security guards telling you not to touch for fear that one animal could be provoked and would attack, resulting in a nasty lawsuit for the zoo. 

Extremely pleased with the day, I finally felt content with Australia. They had not disappointed me yet. 

The next weekend we went to see another important part of the Australian wildlife, the penguins of Philip Island. 

These little guys, no bigger than the seagulls who stood fearless and proud on the beach as if we were there to see them, tumbled out of the surf, waddled a little farther along only to be swept up by the next wave and drawn back into the ocean. After their struggle against nature they battled the line of seagulls blocking them from the dry land where their homes and food lay. The group of five or six little penguins formed a single file line and darted for land like a group of nerdy high school students making their way through the halls dodging the jock bullies. Luckily they all made it home safely, avoiding whatever the wildlife equivalent of being stuffed in a locker is. 

As awed by cuteness as everyone was with these unique little penguins, we all still leapt into a frenzy at the sighting of a wild kangaroo. Outside of the bus window, if you looked hard enough, one or two could be seen standing in the tall grass watching carefully. On the way out of the penguin center a wild wallaby stood grazing on a tree planted for the walk into the center. We all stopped and tried to take a picture as close as we dared, toying with the possibility of using a flash for fear of scaring it away. 

On the way home, before falling into a deep slumber, I realized that these moments of pure happiness have hit me at the weirdest of times. Sitting in a basement on St. Patrick’s day debating what game to play, on the bus gazing at the familiar-feeling countryside pass with movie soundtrack-like music playing, walking back from class alone on a nice day, falling asleep soaking in the sun when visiting the beach for the first time, getting lost in the vibrant stars; these moments are not ones to write home about, but will been the ones I remember most because for me they are the kangaroo: my wildest expectations of this Australian experience come into fruition in ways better than I could have ever predicted. 

Carol with the Kangaroo

Sam with the Kangaroo