The ferry crossing was rough, which at first provided some entertainment, but Erin got a little seasick. To add to that, our ferry was delayed, so instead of meeting my friends Naima and Heidi in Wellington at 9, we didn't make it until close to 11, which put a bit of a damper on the festivities. But we met up again the next day at the Te Papa, the national museum.

After a sushi lunch with the girls we decided to make the most of the crap weather and drive as far both as we could. Unfortunately we made it too far, and had to spend the night in a hostel because there were no national parks en route…oh and the forecast called for hail. So instead we spent a night on overused children's mattresses while drunk boys played rugby in the hallway. YES. love hostels (can you see why we avoid them so?).

We made it to Rotorua then next day and were amazed by how much steam was coming out of the ground. We hiked a bit, went to Hell's Gate geothermal park and a Hangi (traditional Maori underground bbq) and cultural show at a reconstructed pre-european Maori village. Although a little wary of the cheesiness of this type of packaged culture, it was better than going to a hotel show, and Erin wanted to try hangi. And I learned how to do the haka.

We  sadly weren't able to do what I had hoped to do in NZ which was carve our own Jade necklaces (a friend of mine had done that a few years back). We had to head out to Waitomo Caves for our blackwater rafting tour. This was really cool. We got dressed up in thick wetsuits that were totally stretched out, ancient wetsuit booties, rubber boots and caving helmets, picked out tire inner tubes that snuggled our butts, and climbed into a cave with freezing water. several times we got to stand with our backs on a ledge of a little waterfall and jump back into the river. i was sometimes terrified and repeating to myself that this is safe, and always freezing (shivering by the end), which our guides told us to smile about because "that's what we paid for!". And over tomato soup and a bagel, we did smile about the freezing. Because it was awesome. Oh, and we saw glow-in-the-dark worms. which are actually cannibalistic gnat larvae. sweet.

After spending the night in the Coromandel peninsula (but not actually seeing anything), our five days with Betsy (our car. She was a grandma) were over and we had to get to Auckland to return her. So began our last adventure. the secret one that Erin had planned for my 30th. I was excited to finally know what it all was, although a bit sad that I'd no longer get to see her try to pretend like we weren't doing anything. She had rented us a car and gotten us a B&B about an hour north of the city. Our well-meaning but ADHD host ruined the surprised that we were going horseback-riding the next day. 

We woke up bright and early for a special breakfast cooked by the B&B owners, and had an eventful  two-hour ride with the horses' owner. None of the horses were especially well-behaved and the horse that Erin was riding had a power trip over the one I was riding and so I was always relegated to the back of the line. I am not all that practiced in riding horses (i.e. I've only ridden once). so it was pretty "exciting" when my horse just took off in the middle of a forest, with me hanging on for dear life, getting smacked in the face by branches while I tried to get my feet back in the stirrups. And then when he decided to jump over a puddle and i ended up on his neck. it was fantastic. Really, I think i got the hang of it by the end. I'm sure it'll be gone the next time i ride though.

After a little rest, we went into the Auckand for a craft beer and a fairly decent cocktail made by an entertaining bartender, and headed over a bridge (a requisite for a proper date) to a cute restaurant in the north of the city for a great dinner. Only downside to the whole day was getting stuck for an hour on our way home due to a head-on car accident.

The next day, wooo were we sore. Talk about being 30. we packed up our bags, went downtown one more time for some last minute shopping (I bought myself a USA rugby cap, ha), and then headed to the airport for our flight.

I'm still trying to figure out the moral of our time in NZ. Two weeks was way too short and we missed seeing so much (I felt this here more than I did in any other country so far), but I'm glad that we got that we got to come and see as much as we did. I hope we come back. Hopefully during rugby season.

- SB

Ah, New Zealand. So majestic, so gracious, so…pollenated.

There are advantages to following spring around the world. We were originally going to follow summer, but that would have been so hot, whereas spring is nice and cool. I am what Erin calls a "sensitive flower," ironically so. And spring has two things that ruin vacations - rain and blooming vegetation. So while we have been camping in beautiful locations across the world, I have been getting wicked allergy attacks. awesome. They got pretty bad in Melbourne, but I got new medicine to deal with it. But by the time we got to the west coast of the south island of New Zealand I had to get even more medicine to deal with my eyes. Which seemed to work until the day before we left, Erin noticed that one of my pupils was larger than the other. Freaked us out a little but it went away and i haven't used them since. Aaanyway, that's not why you're here. You want to know how New Zealand was!

South Island

 We arrived in the afternoon and found our hosts place, which was on the ocean side of christchurch. this area was severely effected by the recent earthquake and many of the houses, including the one we stayed at, had been deemed damaged beyond repair and would have to be knocked down and rebuilt. the couple we stayed in had differing opinions on whether they would actually tear the whole place down or try to get through the laundry list of expensive repairs needed to salvage the existing structure (jointly paid by the gov't and insurance).

 We had two weeks in New Zealand. I had to fight for that two weeks (Erin wanted to leave later), and although this time is an appallingly short time for the country, I'm glad we at least have had that much. We decided, a week before leaving australia, that it might be fun to do a bit of touring on a motorcycle.  So in the morning I woke up bright and early and took the bus down to pick up the motorcycle, which was pretty exciting.

It took all of our organizational skills to fit all our camping equipment, clothes and other necessities into the hard cases provided, but since we left half of our stuff at the house, we lugged the bags onto the frame, climbed into our riding gear ( I was somehow able to bear wearing my moto pants despite the fact that an enormous spider crawled out of a leg after i pulled them on), and on a slightly drizzly day, were on our way into the country.

We were a little nervous about our experience after a couple hours of riding through farm land in the rain, until we literally turned a corner in burke's pass, when the skies parted, and the beautiful glacial ranges lay out before us. We weaved our way through the valleys, beside impossibly blue lakes, and made it to Mt. Cook around 7pm. This would normally be sunset time, but because we were so far south, we had another two hours to set up and eat dinner before we were rewarded with a gorgeous sunset reflecting on the mountains. We hiked the next morning and sunbathed next to a glacial lake with little icebergs floating by before heading down to Queenstown.

Queenstown is known as the adventure capital of the south island, and we decided the best way to partake is with a rousing game of frisbee golf (thanks to our world-traveling friend Krista for the recommendation. Unfortunately she's traveling in the opposite direction). Erin won handily, and then to add insult to injury she also won our mountain luging series 4-2. bad day for me.

The rest of our moto time was full of gorgeous scenery in a way that only New Zealand can deliver; High above are snow covered mountains, glaciers, with tropical vegetation growing just below. We took a cruise through the Milford sound and filled our water bottles with pure glacier stream water. We rode through driving rain in a lush tropical mountain pass, then warmed ourselves up soaking in a hot tub at the foot of Fox Glacier, and were given an early christmas present of a half tank of gas from a friendly farm-hand before heading through Arthurs pass. It was here also that we met the Keas, who look like a cross between a parrot and a hawk, are in no way afraid of people and are known for ripping tires to shreds because they like the texture (luckily that didn't happen to us).

We made it back to christchurch with no further gas issues (moto's go empty so quickly), returned to our de facto home, and spent the day doing nothing, and it was glorious. while it rained outside we stayed warm watching movies on the couch. It's days like this that are too few and far between. In hindsight we were very fortunate with our weather along our moto tour because it rained for the entire following week.

Erin was able to score us a relocation deal so instead of taking a bus for the rest of our trip, we had a car for the next 5 days. We took off north but because of torrential rain couldn't go to Nelson and Able Tasman park, which is supposed to be beautiful. boo. So instead we stayed near the ferry port town of Picton, ate green lipped mussels of all types and the regional wines (whites were better than red).

Then it was onto the ferry to the North Island...

(Continued in next post) - SB

Imagine trying to see an entire country in two weeks.  Granted, it's not a huge country, but still.  It's a country.  It has two large islands and one small one.  It has lush rain forests, snowcapped mountains, active glaciers, crystal clear blue lakes, enormous water-filled fjords, steaming prehistoric sulfur ponds and dazzling beaches.  And no, I did not just read that on a brochure.  If we spent two days trying to take in each of these marvels, the trip would be over.  Then that doesn't take into account the cities, Christchurch (wow, earthquake damage), Queenstown (adventure capital of the world), Wellington (cultural capital) and Auckland (largest city in NZ with nearly 1/4 of its citizens).

How do you even begin to get through all that that in two weeks?  I have to say, I think we did as well as we could, but we missed a lot.  For the first time since starting the trip, we decided to rent a motorcycle and give that mode of transportation a try.  After all, we had spent plenty of time in trains, buses, airplanes, cars and on foot - why not try a motorcycle?  Steph loves motorcycles, and when I read on the New Zealand information website that the country was one of the best places to tour by moto, I was game to give it a try.   So we reserved a bike in Christchurch, shoved as much of our things into the tiny suitcases as possible, put on the incredibly unflattering motorcycle clothing, and took off in the rain bound for adventure.  That adventure didn't take us too far before we had to stop for some hot coffee and an extra layer of socks.  Summer in New Zealand is not as warm as you might expect.  

We managed to make it 400 kilometers (at some point the clouds broke up and the sun came out,  which made it much nicer) to Mount Cook.  We found a great place to camp at the base of the mountain, thawed ourselves out, and enjoyed our first night on the New Zealand countryside.  Mount Cook is a gorgeous snowcapped mountain - the kind you see in postcards.  When we woke up in the morning, there was no time to waste.  We speed-hiked our way to the Mt. Cook glacier, then hopped on the bike and headed south to Queenstown.  

Queenstown, as I said above, is the adventure capital of New Zealand.  Here you can try your hand at skydiving, paragliding, kitesurfing, speedboating, bungy jumping, mountain biking…you get the idea.  With all of that adventure just dripping off the nearby trees, what did we decide to do?  Golf.  Frisbee golf to be exact.  Partly because I wanted to try it, and mostly because it was free - and all of those other activities most certainly were not.  We also did a bit of mountain luging to spice it up a bit.  Not quite the adventure of extreme mountain biking, but it worked.  And I won in 4 out of 6 races.  Bonus.  Queenstown is also the jumping off point for excursions into the Fjordlands National Park - a place where there are not only beautiful mountains, the mountains are covered in cascading waterfalls, all pouring into glacier dug fjords that lead out into the Tasman Sea.  It seems like all of New Zealand belongs on a postcard.  After the Fjordlands, we did a quick swing up the west coast, stopping to see the Fox and Franz Josef glaciers - both of which are currently growing (though the photos seem to indicate otherwise).  We did a pass through the middle of the south island, where we nearly ran out of gas.  Luckily, we chose wisely when we stopped at a farm to ask where the closest gas station was - because when the farmer told us that there were still several kilometers to go before we found a station AND that station was probably closed - we must of given him the saddest look we could, because he decided to give us a half a gas tank worth of gas for free.  "As a Christmas present," he said.  And, Merry Christmas to you too, friendly farmer.

That was our first six days.  We were not sad when we dropped off the motorcycle (named Jiminy Cricket, after its fairly high pitched roar), and picked up a car that we had scored on a relocation deal.  Free car, free ferry crossing, just have to pay for gas, and get it to Auckland in five days.  Sweet.  A mad-dash north followed, with a stop in the Marlborough wine region for some Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir tasting, and a dinner of green-lipped mussels made six ways - we found some great stuff.  Ferry crossing to the north island (not fun, three hours of rough seas.  I had to be escorted into the rear of the vessel because I was sick), and an overnight stay in Wellington.  We had a few drinks with friends, spent a couple hours in a New Zealand history museum, then headed north to Rotorua, home of Maori culture and the prehistoric sulfur ponds I mentioned above.  

As you get closer to Rotorua, you start smelling the sulfur.  The town is home to hundreds of natural springs and vents that spout gas and water from deep within the earth year round.  This area is sacred to the Maori people, and probably because of this, Rotorua is a center of learning about their ancient culture.  And learn about them we did.  The first thing we did when we got into town was make reservations to have a traditional dinner at one of the Maori villages on the outskirts of the city.  These dinners aren't particularly cheap, but the come with all the fixin's.  First when we arrived, we were greeted with a traditional 'welcome' dance, then shown how to participate in some of the games used by the Maori's to increase agility and speed.  After that, we were treated to dancing and storytelling - followed up by Hangi - which is a traditional style of cooking done underground.  Lamb, chicken, fish, mussels, veggies, sweet potatoes…all cooked with hot stones underground.  Awesome.  The meal was delicious, the entertainment was interesting, and the learning was fun.  I wish all meals could be that way.  Though, I guess if they were my job might be really hard (and I would have to learn how to dance).

With barely three days left in New Zealand (time goes so quickly!) we were trying to pack in as much as we could.  We had heard from some friends that we should try 'blackwater rafting'.  Having no idea what that was, but figuring it must be fun, we made reservations.  Blackwater rafting is basically spelunking along an underwater river with an inner tube.  And not just a little trickling stream - a river.  Complete with waterfalls, submerged passageways and rushing water.  We had to don thick and very unflattering wetsuits due to the freezing waters, and helmets because we had to jump off a few waterfalls backwards (and without being able to see where we would land).  We also were able to see what tour companies refer to as 'glow worms'.  These aren't worms at all, but flies that hatch out of their eggs, eat all their brothers and sisters, poop out phosphorescent poop to attract more food, eat until they have enough energy to hatch out of their maggot stage, have sex for three days without stopping, then die of exhaustion.  Not such a bad life as a fly.  And they are really really beautiful to look at - liking being underground looking at a starry night sky.  For anyone who goes to New Zealand - blackwater rafting is rad.  Try it.

All that's left to cover in New Zealand now is our last two days in Auckland - and Steph's 30th birthday (wow she's old now) - but I think I might leave that to her.  Let's just say we had a nice place to stay, we did a little horseback riding (my horse tried to kill me and I've haven't been as sore as I was afterwards since I played soccer in college), had a nice dinner and checked out a little of the cocktail scene in Auckland.  Then in the end, we got on a redeye flight bound for Buenos Aires.  

South America, our last continent.  Delicious food, different culture, more family, and new adventures.  Can't wait.

-EC

With a mere week left, we drove towards the east coast like we were being chased by a pack of wild kangaroos.  It's actually a bit hard to speed in Australia, as every kilometer or two (literally) they have road signs with cute sayings like, "the higher the speed….the bigger the mess."  It makes you feel a little guilty about speeding.  

We arrived at the coast a bit after dark, found a caravan park to set up our tent, get a load of laundry through the machine, hung it up and got back to our tent just in time to watch the sky open up and start raining harder than I have experienced in a while.  So hard, in fact, that we didn't dare leave our tent to get the laundry.  It took us two days and much rotating in the car to get everything dry after that.

The biggest reason in my mind to spend time on the East Coast of Australia is the Great Barrier Reef.  It's kind of a big deal.  But where to start?  The thing is HUGE.  The kind of huge you can see from outer space.  The city of Cairns is where most people go to first to book tours - and by most people I mean backpackers.  Exactly the people I try to avoid.  Maybe that seems unfair, since I am, by definition, a backpacker.  I'm willing to accept this title merely due to the fact that almost everyday I pick up a very large backpack and walk around with it.  But that is where the similarities stop.  At the end of the day I'm pretty worn out, so I try to get to bed by 9:30pm (feel a little like my mom here),  I don't like loud noises (I have been known to say things like, "why do those kids have to make all that racket?!"), and I have a very hard time sharing a kitchen with young men who generally only cook ramen noodles, and when they do, they find a way to sprinkle dry noodles all over the counter tops and stove.  Almost as if they were expecting their mother to come along after them with a washcloth, smile and muss up their hair, prodding them to be a little cleaner next time. 

Needless to say, we avoided Cairns, and instead headed south to the Whitsunday Islands.  The Whitsundays are inside of the Great Barrier Reef National Park, but don't actually make up the reef itself.  The actual reef is really far out to sea and even more expensive to get to.  By this point we were pinching pennies everywhere we could, having spent quite a lot of money already in Australia with Kangaroo Island, Uluru park and ridiculously expensive gas.  After walking around Airlie Beach (the jumping off point for the islands) for half a day sizing up all the deals, we settled on a snorkeling cruise that let us visit two different islands and snorkel in two places.  Sweet.  Another thing of note about me, is that I have a mildly irrational fear of sharks.  Part of this fear is contrived, due to the fact that I get such a good reaction out of Steph everytime I mention it, but truly, part of it is real.  I don't know why, but when I get any distance out into the ocean I find that I'm looking around for a dorsal fin.  But I agreed, upon making this reservation, that my fear was in fact, irrational, and I shouldn't let that keep me from plunging into the great wide ocean with the rest of the shark bait (fellow snorkelers).  

The first place we stopped on the cruise was Whitehaven Beach, home of the 'white swirly sands' that will most certainly be the first thing you see if you do a quick google search of Whitsunday Islands.  There we donned 'stinger suits', aka giant black leotards that protected us against jellyfish, and headed out for the water.  It was beautiful, and from an observation deck you could pick out several stingrays in the water (we were told to do the 'stingray shuffle' to avoid being stung).  So as Steph and I walked towards the water, I prepared myself to push the thoughts of sharks out of my head, shuffle my feet, and enjoy the wonderful weather.  At ten feet away from the water, I was almost in the right mindset, until I noticed a bit of splashing.  Clearly, as it just so happened, a small shark washed up onto the beach just in front of us, and was splashing around trying to get back into the water.  Of course.  After he swam away, I walked along the beach in shin deep water, keeping an eye out.  The shark followed us.  In fact, it followed us at least 25 feet along the coast, until it found a crab it the water that it attacked with gusto, then swam away.  Sigh.  Though I did go the rest of the day without a shark sighting, my fear remains intact.  

After the Whitsundays we hopscotched our way down to Brisbane, where I have an aunt, Rena, and two cousins, Robert and Elise.  Unfortunately Robert was out of town, but I got to spend time with Rena and Elise, and soak up a little bit of family time.  There's nothing like sitting around having dinner with family to take away some of the homesickness.

After three luxurious (happy coincidence ended in us having a two bedroom luxury apartment all to ourselves) days outside of Brisbane, we were on our way to New Zealand.  Funny, I'm finishing up this post while on our flight to Argentina.  Hard to keep up sometimes.  


-EC


ps. I should mention, when we turned in our car, aka Bare-bones Sally, we had put about 11,500 km on her.  Nice work.

As we took the ferry back from Kangaroo Island, I was a bit worried.  I had had such an amazing time in those few days, I was worried it would all be downhill after that.  I carried this fear with me as we drove off the ferry and headed north to Adelaide.  Adelaide is one of the most interestingly designed cities that I've ever come across.  The entire commercial area is surrounded by a several-blocks-wide park.  Imagine Central Park being in a loop around Manhattan instead of down the middle.  And, of course, the city being a fraction of the size.  The downtown is still set up in a 'gold rush' style, with wooden walkways and overhangs advertising for blacksmiths.  Though, all the blacksmiths have been replaced by bars and coffee shops, which gives a pretty cool vibe to the town.  So cool we only stayed one day.

Adelaide was about the point that we realized that we needed to get a move on.  We only had three weeks left, and with the wine valleys, the red center, the great barrier reef and the gold coast left, we were pushing it as it was.  So with cute Adelaide in our rear-view mirror, we headed out to the Barossa and Clare Valleys.  These are the two valleys in Australia that are the most well known for their wines, and I was excited to give a few a try.  We started in the Barossa Valley, tasted our way through several wineries, sampling shiraz and cabernet and some surprisingly good malbecs (not what I think of when I think of Aussie wine).  Then, at Steph's request we hit up a brewery just to balance it out (oddly, they made one of the best American-style pale ales that I've ever had) .  The next day we headed over to the Clare Valley to sample our way through some rieslings.  Riesling is probably my favorite wine (grape), so I was stoked about this one.  The thing I like most about riesling is that it's balanced - slightly sweet, slightly acidic - and generally satisfying in a way that I don't find myself over-thinking them.  I just want to enjoy them.  Of the seven wineries and twelve or so reislings that we tried, none matched the description I just gave.  Australian rieslings are much more acidic with almost no sweetness, which made them a more similar in my mind to a pinot grigio or sauvignon blanc.  Good in their own right, to be sure, but not quite what I was expecting.  So the wine valleys were fun, but not quite a Kangaroo Island.

After finishing our sampling, we headed further north towards the center. Australia is big.  I hadn't realized how big it was until we set out to drive straight through the center of it.  Anyone who we would come across and tell them of our plans would tell us to fill our car with water and fuel.  And not just in the fuel tank, we were told to carry plenty of extra.  So few people drive the roads that we were planning on driving, if we were to break down it could be hours before anyone drove by to help.  And if that wasn't scary enough, as soon as we got farther north than the valleys we started reading signs in parking lots warning drivers of the multitude of break-ins that happen and to NEVER leave anything in your car.  Oh, and don't even think about going out at night.  'What am I getting myself into?', I thought to myself.  Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all.  But regardless, a grocery store visit later, we were on our way - car chocked full of boxes of water, granola bars, and the canned 'chunky-man' soups I thought I would never buy.  

After spending a night camping in Port Augusta, a miserable little desert town where we paid $25 to camp on a rock-hard sandy and slanted plot that was covered in ants, we packed up just as the sun was starting to warm our tent.  To get to our destination, we had about 1300 kilometers to drive, and we had to get started early.  We rolled into Coober Pedy, Another desert town, though this time much less miserable, due to the fact that most of the town is built underground, to avoid the heat.  We stayed in an underground hotel and visited a couple of underground churches before we headed onward toward the middle.  Next stop, Uluru.

Aside from the Great Barrier Reef, Uluru is probably the most famous natural site in Australia.  It's a huge rock that sits like a bright red turtle on top of an ocean of flatness right in the center of the country.  It is an incredibly sacred site to the indigenous people of the area, and has only become a major tourist attraction over the last ten years or so (in fact, most indigenous people from the middle had never seen a white person until the mid-1970's).   The Uluru area, which includes another similar formation about 45km away called Kata Tjuta, should be on anyone's bucket list for Australia.  One of the things that the rock is known for is changing colors with the different angles of sunlight during the day.  At some points it's a brilliant shade of red, at others it's orange or brown.  I had my heart set on seeing all of the different shades, but Mother Nature had different ideas.  When we pulled into Curtain Springs, our campsite just outside of the National Park, it was raining.  It can sometimes go six years without raining in this region, and we happened to hit it just right.  This not only meant our campsite was a pond, it also took away the possibility of seeing the sunset.  Cross bright red off the list.  Luckily, the sky had cleared by 4:30 the next morning when we woke up to see the sunrise.  Packing up camp and driving through the darkness, I was filled with excitement as the first rays of sunlight began to lighten the sky, showing the profile of the rock as we approached the sunrise viewing area sandwiched between two tour buses.  We all got out and sprinted (I wish I was exaggerating) to get the best spot to view the rock at sunrise.  So there I was, squeezed between other tourists, elbowing people out of the way for a better viewing position to look at….a rock.  Steph immediately decided that this was ridiculous and backed away slowly.  I was determined to hold my ground so I wouldn't miss a single hue in the color change.  I probably stood there for 45 minutes, back to the sunrise, watching the rock - all with an ever-increasing awareness that this activity was incredibly silly.  But hey, I now have about 100 photos of the many different shades of color takes on between 6:15 and 7am.  I'm thinking of framing them all and putting them in progression in my apartment at home.  6:15am when you walk in the door, 7am by the time you reach the bathroom.  Perfect.

We spent many hours hiking around Uluru and Kata Tjuta for the rest of the day and then King's Canyon the next (and stayed in the most expensive campground of the trip, $40 for cold showers and dingos running through the area at night.  What a deal).  Then it was off to Alice Springs, for our first couchsurfing house since Melbourne.  Alice Springs is a pretty interesting place.  It has one of the highest concentrations of aborigines in a 'white city' in Australia and many problems related to this.  The question of aboriginal culture in Australia is a very complicated one.  It seems like the two cultures are about the least compatible possible.  We had heard many things about the dangerousness of Alice Springs, and questioned our hosts about the validity of those warnings.  Trying to make it seem like no big deal, they said it really wasn't all that bad.  They talked it down, saying, "Oh it's no worries, really, but things do happen in Alice Springs every….night."  Every night?  Yes, apparently, the night before, a 15-year-old boy was stabbed to death by a 13-year-old girl.  Part of aboriginal culture revolves around a cultural justice system based on the idea of 'tit for tat'.  I can see how this (among other things) might be incompatible with white culture.  So who is right?  The people that are the oldest culture in the world who have lived here for thousands and thousands of years, or the new culture that settled the new land that was 'uninhabited and uncivilized' when they arrived?  It's a pretty tricky question, and one that doesn't seem to have a good solution.   I could probably write an entire post on my thoughts about this, but they are still quite conflicted, but for now, I just have to say that I was not sad to leave the obvious cultural clash of Alice Springs, and start the long 1800km drive toward the East Coast and the Great Barrier Reef.  

We were told the drive would take us four days.  Unwilling to part with that much of our remaining 10 days in the country, we made few stops, slept by the side of the road (one time in a rest stop where I had to kick small rat-like rodents off the outside of the tent in the middle of the night while Steph slept soundly), and once in a National Park called The Devil's Marbles, where the aboriginal legend was such that witches inhabited your dreams at night to kidnap small children.  Small sacrifices to make to save a lot of money and a little time.  Two days and 1800km later, we pulled into Townsville, our kick-off point for the East Coast. 

For our last week, we're going to spend time exploring the Whitsunday Islands and the Great Barrier Reef.  I'm looking forward to it - and even though I'm a little terrified of them, Steph assures


EC

Kangaroo Island

The first i ever heard of kangaroo island was from the brochure that we picked up when crossing into south australia, along with brochures for the barossa and clare valleys and the coast up to adelaide. we also picked up the ferry brochure, which of course, i looked at first. having done so i didn't really even take too much of a look at the KI booklet because  i didn't want to know what i was going to miss by not dishing out $400 to just get there. but as the day came near when we had to decide which way to go - toward KI, or spending a couple extra days in the wine valleys, it was becoming clear to me how i would regret not going, especially if we spent extra time wine tasting (i live in california. i know wine tasting is not that fun). 

In the info center at the fork in the road between adelaide and KI, we figured out a way to make it work. and lordy am i glad we did. check that one off the list of things to do before you die. the island is gorgeous, we fed kangaroos and wallabies, rescued an injured koala, dined with an opossum (though i do write this after having just dined in the car to avoid another opossum dinner crashing), followed an echidna (australian porcupine) searching for grub, watched seals play fighting, watched two kangaroos (kick)boxing, and saw possibly the most beautiful sunset i've ever seen. 

Not bad for a long weekend.

Barossa and Claire Valleys

I'm going to skip Adelaide, because we didn't do much. I'm wondering if Australia is ruining my city kid mentality because not only did we press on to the valleys instead of staying for gay pride weekend, driving in the city stressed me out. So, onto the wine region.

As I mentioned above, although I enjoy wine, wine tasting is a disappointment. you drive all day to different wineries, and talk to people who mostly know nothing about actually making wines or the process, and by the third one, you really shouldn't be driving anymore and it's only 2pm. so i was looking for other attractions which led us to stay in a podunk town that boasted it was the first mining town in SA. awesome, but there's nothing there now. and it rained. look, i know we can't expect 7 months of sunshine, but it's not so fun to have to fold up your soppy tent into the car. 

Day one we went to the barossa valley. barossa is the fancy napa-like valley, home to the penfold winery, and many syrahs. So we drank red wine and found a brewery that made an american style pale ale, which was delicious (we haven't found too many tasty beers here in Oz. they like it tasteless and cold. like many americans). clare is the less flashy, sonoma-esque, reisling center.  day two we drank reisling, and a delicious malbec (who knew?) and made our way up to Port Augusta, the gateway to the middle of australia; a town so remote that they had only one movie playing, and when we asked where we could watch something other than Breaking Dawn, they said Adelaide. 

Also, it's been 2.5 weeks in Australia and I have hardly put my feet in the ocean. But the way we're heading, that won't be for another week. For now, onto the red center.

SB

Kangaroo Island is expensive to get to - and going there would take our meager daily budget through the roof.  KI (as locals call it) is a small island off the Southern Coast, and you need to take a ferry to get there.  Not only for yourself, but due to the lack of any public transportation, you also need to bring your car.  In total when we added it up, it would cost us $348 round trip with the car.  Basically blowing our daily budget for the next four days before we even got on the boat.  It's one of those tricky travel choices.  On one hand, you want to save your money and make wise choices, and on the other, you don't want to be so budget conscious that you miss out on things that you might never have a chance to do again.

At the price of $348, we had basically decided not to go, thinking that we would concentrate a little more of our time in the wine regions that I was so looking forward to.  On a whim, we pulled over and checked in with one of the very friendly Australian tourist information centers.  Let me tell you, these centers have more information that you could ever get through in a lifetime of trips, and are usually staffed by friendly retirees that tackle you the second you walk in, throwing information at you about any and everything you could need.  At this particular info center, when we walked by the display on Kangaroo Island, a pamphlet caught Steph's eye.  It was an offer for two people and their vehicle round trip to KI, with two night's accommodation (in a real bed!) for just $200 per person.  Yes, that's more that $348.  But just by a little bit AND we could sleep in real beds for two whole nights!!  Budget out the window.

Arriving on Kangaroo Island, we visited yet another information center, made plans to visit a few different places around the island, I made notes about where to see more koalas, sea lions and penguins, and we were off.  Our first stop, of course, was to get some fresh oysters on the beach.  It's almost impossible to go wrong with any sort of seafood that has been out of the water for less than 24 hours.  After the oysters we stopped by a local sheep farm and tasted all the different types of cheeses and yogurts they had to offer.  Bellies full and plenty of daylight left, we headed for the wildlife reserve park.  

This is one of those parks billed as a place to come and interact with the animals - a 'feeding the kangaroos and wallabies' sort of place.  I have some mixed feelings on this sort of thing.  While it's nice to be able to see these animals up close and personal, it's hard to get behind having them in cages, relying on humans with tiny bags of pellets to walk by and throw food at them.  Luckily, the fields where the animals were kept were quite large, which did make me feel a bit better about them being caged in.  After looking at tropical birds of all colors, wombats, water buffalo and crocodiles, we came to the fenced in kangaroo area, where guests were allowed to enter and hand-feed the 'roos.  I was thinking that they would be a bit skiddish, and I might have to chase them around a bit.  Wrong, of course, these kangaroos see you coming from 100 meters away, and are lined up waiting for you when you get there.  It was almost a little scary, kangaroos hopping in from ever direction, pushing each other out of the way, almost nibbling a little too much of your skin while trying to get to the food.  And kangaroos weren't the only animals in the pin.  There was also a very aggressive turkey, who didn't leave my side from the moment we stepped into the pin - but instead of grabbing at my hand, he would just dance around in an almost bizarre mating ritual until I would throw a few pellets at his feet.  Animals are so weird.  

All in all, we had several animal interactions, with two standing out as more memorable than the rest.  First, on KI, it seems like the animals want to run out in front of your car without the slightest provocation.  We were quite proud of the fact that we managed to avoid hitting all fifteen or so koalas, kangaroos, giant lizards, and wallabies that tried to commit suicide in front of us.  One night, on the way home after watching an especially amazing sunset, a koala walked out in front of the car, and after I swerved into the oncoming lane to avoid him, he sat right down in the middle of the road and stared at me.  Steph had to jump out of the car and chase him back into the woods like a crazy person.  The very next day, while driving in the same spot (taking it a little more slowly this time), a koala walked out into the middle of the road in front of us and collapsed.  Steph swerved around him (we alternate days driving), while I yelled out to stop the car.  I was out of the car before it stopped moving, running back along the road to check on the injured koala.  When I got to him I found him breathing laboriously, with a small pool of blood forming on the road under his mouth.  Clearly he was in pretty rough shape.  We moved his little body off the road and into the shade of some bush, and then steph drove like a mad woman to the closest town for help, while I stayed with Kenny (I had named him by this point) and rubbed his back, hoping that this provided comfort, not further alarm.  When Steph finally returned alone twenty minutes later, she explained that help was on the way.  Apparently the woman who was on her way was acting with the sense of urgency of a grocery store clerk when she learns the stock of sour cream has dwindled, instead of the EMT hopped up on cocaine that we were hoping for.  When she finally arrived she rolled still alive Kenny in a blanket, put him in a cardboard box and took him away.  I never did find out if he made it, but we talk about him often.

The second memorable animal encounter on KI happened on our last night on the Island.  We were camping on the farthest Western tip, making dinner under the stars.  It's a little less glamourous than it sounds…we don't have a table or chairs, so we sit on whatever we can find, and on this night we couldn't find anything except the cooler.  So I crouched on the ground, while steph sat, cooking with headlamps on trying to keep from kicking dirt into the food.  But hey, we're cooking under the stars, right?  What could be better?  Well, better probably starts when in the middle of eating dinner a possum walks up and demands his portion of the food.  He is, in fact, so certain that food is owed to him that even after Steph brandished a wine bottle and chased him around the camp (seems like she's doing quite a bit of animal chasing these days) he still managed to grab our bag of bread and try to run off with it.  We wrestled it away.  Then I looked up with my headlamp and realized that we were basically surrounded by at least four possums.  We threw all the rest of the food in the car, locked it up and went to bed.  But not before I asked Steph to walk me to the outhouse for fear of being attacked by hungry possums.  Oh, Kangaroo Island.  How interesting you were.  

Right now we are in Airlie Beach directly off the coast of the Whitsunday Islands.  After KI we travelled north through the famous OZ wine regions, through the Red Center, and then 2000 kilometers east to the Great Barrier Reef, where we are now.  I'll fill you all in on the rest as soon as I can.  As always, internet is a little hard to come by, and we are spending WAY too much time in McDonald's (free wifi) because of that.  Hopefully soon that'll change.

-EC