Hey guess what? I'm not dead. Although it's been eons in internet time since my last blog entry, I'm still here. Just lazy. Maybe the pervasive non-chalant attitude of this entire country has finally gotten to me. No worries, though. At the end of September I went on an epic trip to Cairns, in North Queensland for a week of diving the Great Barrier Reef and hangin in hostels with Germans and partying. It got off to a rough start. I couldn't find my wallet just minutes before the last known bus to the airport. By the time I found it in the closet, (it flew out of my pants when I whisked them off the night before, no need to read into this) I had missed the bus. Fortunately, after revising my search terms in the public transit website, I found another bus. Right when I got on, "The House of the Rising Sun" was playing on the bus radio, a small but brilliant pearl of happiness in the abysmal hell that is Newcastle's public transit system; something I regarded as a near-miracle experience and the best indication that my trip was wrought with good fortune. Turns out, I was right.
I took ten dives on the outer GBR while aboard the "Kangaroo Explorer," and saw some of the most amazing coral formations and sea life I could imagine. Black tip and white tip reef sharks, loggerhead and green sea turtles, my car's spirit animal, the barracuda, giant Maori wrasses and my favorite, striped butterfly fish. I took this crappy little disposable camera and actually came up with a few decent pictures, so the $70 DVD can sit on it. I met lots of cool travellers from all over the world, and while on the trip I actually crossed two things off my bucket list; dive the GBR and dive with a funny French videographer. Seriously he was hilarious; wearing all white and talking like Jacques Cousteu on our pre-dive. Awesome. The weather was sunny and hot, the visibility was about 45 feet and the water temperature was like a warm bath. The trip was dream-like in it's perfection. I began reminiscing by the time I was back on shore. That night the crew bought everyone drinks and pizza at The Woolshed, Australia's self-proclaimed #1 party bar, and I danced and drank with friends from the trip. Passed out at 3:30 a.m., woke up at 6:30 p.m. Like I said, epic.
Then I went on a jungle tour through Daintree, one of the world's oldest rainforests and met Birthe, a ridiculous German girl who confirmed my suspicions that German backpackers were part of a plot to take over Australia and eventually make her their queen. Her ability to bullshit was on par with mine, and we made fast friends while posing like Japanese tourists, hiking through giant spiders' webs, and swimming in a river during a tropical downpour that made Washington rain look like a light sprinkle.
After Cairns I went down to Sydney with some friends from Uni to do the requisite Sydney touristy stuff (Opera House, Harbour Bridge, Chinese Gardens, and Paddy's Markets) and non-touristy stuff, like a foam party. Take my advice and NEVER GO TO A FOAM PARTY EVER. Imagine being asphixiated by foam in a dance-club environment then walking across downtown Sydney at night, soaking and freezing. That's what my friends did. I dried off using paper towels and got a cab. All in all though, Sydney was awesome. I got real drip coffee from Starbucks! Yay coffee! My homie Mikie got me addicted to McDonalds! Wooo, MSG! But four days down there wasn't quite enough, and I plan to spend a few more looking around after I get back from New Zealand and the ancient land of Middle Earth. You heard right. I'll keep you posted.
