It's the Simple Things...

Australia definitely has been a land of firsts for me. First time I've ever seen a live Koala, first time I've ever ridden a camel, first time I've ever considered buying skinny jeans, first time I've ever been universally impressed by the quality of the coffee, and first time I've ever thought $16.50 was cheap for a dinner meal. More importantly than these, I have finally found something I thought previously impossible. That fickle friend fate has united me with quite possibly the most revolutionary, life-changing invention of my time: An efficient ketchup packet.

I don't hold grudges, and it's extremely difficult to find things in life that I actually hate. I'm usually that noncommittal, non-extreme kind of friend with whom you have to judge their feelings about an issue based on their interchangeable and consistent use of words like "nice, awesome, probably, and sure- I could do that." Let me be clear: I hate ketchup packets. It's not a brand thing, it's a universal hatred.  They are one of most consistent banes of my existence to date. Maybe no one else ever finds themselves using these things, but I have come across these damn packets enough times to warrant writing this post. Let me be clear: I despise Ketchup packets and am constantly on the lookout for ways to avoid coming into contact with these vile things, with quite the same vigor as David Hasselhoff attacked that now infamous cheeseburger. I could choose to hate drying off with a wet towel, or the feeling of seaweed around my leg, or something infinitely more distasteful and actually worth hating, but to date the ketchup packet remains my number one on a list of “Things that make me act like The Hulk.”#Firstworldproblems.

Let me quickly underline my reasons for hatred to prove it's not unjustified:

1. They Suck.
2. They are messy.
3. They really Suck.
4. They are difficult to open.
5. NO one ketchup packet has ever provided enough ketchup for more than three french fries.
6. They create unnecessary waste.
7. Give me a bottle of Ketchup like a real person.

See? Perfectly rational.

So here I am one day Down Under casually enjoying yet another delicious steak and mushroom pie when a family member unveils to me the invention that changed my world. I mean a rainbow appeared in the sky, the doves sang, Piers Morgan did not have his own talk show, sports style butt slapping replaced the high-five world wide, and my life now has its own soundtrack. I immediately demanded photos be taken of me using this gem of a condiment packet. There is a specific brand of ketchup packet on offer here in Australia that does three things:

1. Affords the hungry a usable amount of ketchup
2. Is actually convenient and easy to open
3. Makes me smile

This little genius of an invention is actually so simple I can't believe I've never encountered it before elsewhere. The ingenuity lies in the back of the packet, which is in the shape of two separate rectangles each containing their own dash of ketchup (See below). The user effortlessly squeezes the packet together and the ketchup squirts out of the front of the packet mess-free, leaving a large amount of ketchup in a specific spot on your plate.

Well in Australia.

First there was the lightbulb. Then This.

How I felt after using the packet:

Reefs n' Rainforests

One of the many redeeming (well, maybe just redeeming) qualities about traveling with your family is that they are often willing and able to afford expensive adventures that I myself would never consider if I were traveling solo. Consequently. The highlight of our stay in Port Douglas was a 2-day Reef n' Rainforest combo tour that really allowed us to take advantage of the two natural wonders in proximity to PD.

As it turns out, PD is a great vacation location not only because it's a fantastic beach town, but also because of its proximity to two, separate natural wonders: The Great Barrier Reef (GBR) and the Daintree Rainforest. I feel like the GBR needs no introduction. If you think GBR means Great Britain, then you need to brush up on your geography. If you have never heard of the GBR, then there is nothing more I can do for you. The Daintree Rainforest, on the other hand, is arguably the worlds oldest rainforest. It is especially cool because large parts of the rainforest grow very close to the Coral Sea, which is the big body of water off the coast of Port Douglas. Because many of the rainforest tree species cannot function in salt water, a very visible pattern of growth has developed between rainforest tree species, mangrove trees, and the coastal beach waters. Mangrove trees can survive in saltwater and they form a buffer between the sea and rainforest along much of the coast. 

I've been snorkeling before in Florida and Thailand, but nothing matches the underwater sights on view in the GBR. It's just an unbelievable reef teaming with wildlife. The tour boat took us to three different spots along the reef that are actually protected by laws designating them national marina parks. We saw small, brightly colored reef fish, other big fish, turtles, stingrays, and one reef shark. I really feel like it's the apex of the snorkeling world, even with my limited experience. I have also concluded that it is literally impossible to snorkel on the reef and NOT compare everything to “Finding Nemo.” Not joking, my sister and I described the fish in this manner: “I saw two Dory fish, only one potential Nemo, at least three of the fish with the scars, and none of the kind of fish who is obsessed with bubbles. Sadly, didn't see any Crushs.” I think the saddest part is that we both immediately knew what the other one was talking about. It's like being on a big boat and not standing at the front and yelling “I'm king of the world!” It's just about damn near impossible. It should be an unwritten law of this world. Kind of like the unwritten law which says that anyone human who wears flannel shirts also plays guitar. At least a little bit. 

The rainforest is nice.

Graffiti + Sense of Humor= famous road sign.

NEMO (almost)

   

Wildlife Center Madness

Last time I checked in, I was waxing lyrical about Four Mile Beach in Port Douglas. My affection for that beach is unwavering and firmly established Port Douglas as one of my favorite beachside spots. And then, just when I thought life couldn't get any better, I discovered the Wildlife Center at Port Douglas, and that was it. The inner nature child in me was unleashed. I was alive with excitement and child like curiosity. Port Douglas instantly became the greatest town since I was made aware of a town in Minnesota named “Dinkytown.”

The nature center brought me straight back to a series of National Geographic videos I used to watch incessantly as a child. And then my Mom said one day, “Andrew, you are 17 years old. I am breaking those damned videos. Go out and find a job.” (Circa Stepbrothers). It was a series covering flora and fauna from different environments around the earth, narrated by a spinning cartoon globe with a noseless face named 'Dudley.' If any of you out there have seen the series, then you'll agree with me when I say those videos are responsible for my so far life-long fascination (albeit a terrified fascination) with animals. The videos contained a special series on the Australian Outback, and this wildlife center presented the opportunity to roam the outback as I dreamt as a child.

Yes.

Armed with a surplus of 'Roo Food,' (notably my first substantial financial contribution of the trip, a grand total of $12), I hit the Wildlife center like a tornado. IT. WAS. AWESOME. Birds, Kangaroos, and Wallabies roamed freely in an epic wildlife extravaganza. It was an epic cocktail of endemic Australian wildlife and as I held the food supply, I held all the power. The animals flocked to me and I responded, showering them with food from their wildest dreams. I had them under my control. Wherever I waltzed, they followed. If I said “jump!” the Kangaroo's competed with each other to see who could jump the highest. Together we meandered, we danced, and I slinked my way down the toe path satisfying the feeding dreams of over five different unique species. In a perfect union of man and nature they respected me and I fed them to their hearts content. As Machiavelli once mused, “Is it better to be feared or loved?” I say, it's best to be in control of the food.

As the perfect ending to a great day, a young Australian guy, who looked like Crocodile Dundee did when he was 17 (or at least I hoped) gave us a comprehensive information session on the Koala, Australia's cutest, but ultimately most useless Marsupial. Because they ONLY eat Eucalyptus leaves, which have the same nutritional value as a box full of funnel cakes, they have to sleep 20 hours a day to conserve energy. The other four hours of the day they slowly hunt for fresh Eucalyptus leaves, and I was confused by the Guide's persistent use of the word “Hunt,” because it's not exactly like the leaves are going to fight back or get up and try to escape. Despite their limited practical use, anyone in their right mind (including me) would be hard pressed to argue that koalas aren't cute as hell. As such, at the end of the info session when we were presented the chance to take an expensive photo holding the Koala, I was naturally the first in line. I even pushed some toddlers out of the way. But I did it. That's right, world, BE JEALOUS. I held a fuzzy, fluffy, koala in my arms. CUTENESS OVERLOAD. My camera almost cracked as a result. I expect the ladies to be queuing up when that picture emerges on facebook. The koala did smell bad, and did try to shit everywhere in between photos, but hey. I would be pooping too if six different people were fawning over me and picking me up and all I wanted to do was pound some leaves and go to sleep. In the end, totally worth it though.

Game Changer

Some life goals can just wait....

Melbourne came and went, just like that. It's a great city, I can't argue with that. But there's plenty more to see in Australia and despite my natural ginger aversion to any form of sunlight, more tropical temperatures were beckoning.  From Melbourne we hopped on a plane to Cairns and three hours later arrived at a substantially warmer and sunnier Cairns International Airport. Now, an important side note here. Recently I've been getting serious about the idea of skydiving, which is a serious step for me because anyone that knows me at all knows that I have an undying, often can't function, struggling to breath kind of fear of heights. So throwing myself out of a plane thousands of feet in the air is kind of like taking your worst fear, living it, and then multiplying it by 1000. At the same time, skydiving seems to me to be the ultimate way to conquer my fear, and I'm a big believer in taking your fears head on. So despite my apprehensions, I've been considering it. I like to think of it as something to tick off the bucket list After the flight to Cairns, I'm no longer considering it. During landing we encountered the worst turbulence I've ever experienced, the plane shook, lights went out, the wing broke off, luggage fell from above, and we crashed into a mysterious desert island with polar bears... ok, just kidding. Obviously that didn't happen. But actually the plane did shake violently and according to the pilot's estimates we fell about 50 feet in free fall. What I learned from this experience: 50 feet of free fall was enough to terrify the living shit out of me. There is no way I'd be able to handle an actual skydiving experience involving thousands of feet of free fall. Now, I know the cynics out there might say something like: "If it's your first skydiving experience, then you have to go with an instructor... it's exciting; it's awesome; don't be a wimp; do it drunk." etc etc. I don't care. Instructor or not, tandem or not, still scary. That bucket list item will just have to wait.

After the harrowing experience of the landing, I needed something to calm me down. From Cairns, we rented a car and drove to Port Douglas, a smaller town in Queensland, about an hour from Cairns. Much of the drive was costal, and the intoxicating views of the coastline and mountains provided the natural tonic I needed to get back into vacation mode. After we arrived, I quickly discovered that Port Douglas is home to my new favorite beach location. Aptly named Four Mile Beach, (can you guess why?) the water is warm, the scenery is unbelievable, and the atmosphere is calm and relaxing. I especially liked it because the sand is hard and packed, not the soft, deep sand that I'm used to finding at most beaches. As an avid beach sports enthusiast, this is the kind of sand that encourages lots of good games. And running along the beach in the morning is unbeatable. My sister was put off by the signs at the beach entrance that read: "beware of Crocodiles" and the pictures depicting large stinging jellyfish present in the water." While I may be terrified of heights, crocs and jellyfish pale in comparison. I think its because to me, the chance of being attacked by a Croc or Jellyfish is so remote I don't even consider it a real issue. But the chance of coming down in a plane? Every time I fly I think it's a definite possibility. I bet official statistics on these kind of things would beg to differ, but I can sleep safely at night with this kind of perhaps warped perspective. Any who, all in all, destination two on this adventure around Australia: Great Success!

Four Mile Beach, Port Douglas

Welcome to Melbourne

I've always thought I had lots of interesting things to say and that lots of people would love to hear what it is I have to say. Real life has taught me that neither of those statements is true, but that what really matters is that I don't care. There is no doubt blogging is becoming increasingly accessible and influential; anyone can blog about pretty much anything that interests them as long as they can stand to deal with the "comment wars" that often occur in the aftermath of a blog post. As a strong believer in my own self-importance, I have long talked about creating a personality in the blogosphere. Recently, the stars aligned and gave me an opportunity to open this, my first ever blog attempt.

Allow me to paint the scenario. In July, my younger sister, armed with a childlike curiosity, a sense of adventure, and some hard earned cash in the piggy bank moved to Melbourne, Australia for a semester of study abroad. Those that have studied abroad know what a great opportunity it is to live life to the extreme in a new environment under the pretense of "improving their education." Fortunately, my parents viewed her move to Australia favorably and decided to visit and explore Australia for the next month. As the unemployed post grad, my schedule is open for the foreseeable future and no one in their right mind would turn down a complimentary trip to Australia, (even with their parents) would they?

From Washington D.C. we three intrepid explorers set off, excited but at the same time dreading the 30 hours of travel between us and Melbourne. I won't relieve every moment for you, but its safe to say: I laughed, I cried, I froze, I negotiated with screaming children, I went through customs in Sydney only to be told we were in the wrong place to catch our connecting flight, and just about damn near lost my mind during the last hour of travel, but a full 30.5 hours later we arrived in Melbourne City. On our approach to the city center, my first thought was how much Melbourne reminded me of England. The weather was cloudy, cool, and threatening to rain-typically English. Cars operate on the left hand side of the road, and something about the design of the roadsigns reminded me so much of my time in England as a child. Once we reached downtown Melbourne however, those feelings disappeared and I quickly realized it was unlike any city I have been to before.

Melbourne has a great energy about it. Widely regarded as the arts/culture capital of Australia, there was a plethora of performances being advertised, ranging from Steve Aoki to Macy Gray and everything in between. Apparently, Wheatus is due to come and play in October.  "Teenage Dirtbag" is my anthem, that IS a show I would definitely pay top dollar for.

Another thing I really like is that while there is plenty of people out and about, the city is spacious and clean. When I say 'spacious' I mean that despite the crowds and activity nothing feels cramped. Sidewalks and roads are very wide, there is lots of green foliage, and despite the rapid pace of city life i never felt hurried. The only thing that made me feel out of place was my lack of skinny jeans. Among the locals, men and women, young and old alike, there was a serious preference for skinny jeans. I've never been one for a pair of skinny's, and my first thought was that a good friend from home, (whose name rhymes with Smenton) would absolutely love the style on display here. I have no doubt though, if I lived in Melbourne long enough I'd give in and buy a pair. I'm a sucker for trends.

The food in Melbourne was diverse, ranging from local cuisine, to western chains, to a buffet of South East Asian cuisines. We headed to a local restaurant and under recommendation sampled a "Roo Burger," which is exactly what you think it is. My first ever taste of Kangaroo was exquisite. If it was possible, I'd get Kangaroo meat imported en mass to America in a second. The burger was served without french fries, or "chips" as they are called here, so as an American I think Australia still has a few things to learn about serving a burger.  Coffee in Melbourne has been excellent so far, but here people refer to a regular coffee as a "small black" or a "large black," which A) makes me laugh every time I order it, and B) has caused confusion between myself and the staff multiple times now.

Overall, Melbourne gets two thumbs up from me. Despite an initial ride with a cab driver who quickly made Melbourne sound more like Baghdad, it has turned out to be an awesome city and a great way to start my exploration around Australia. Recently ranked the number one city to live in world-wide, I would have to say after three days I can see why.