A Few of My Favorite Things

And some stuff I don't miss at all.

Obviously there is a period that everyone who returns from an extended period abroad goes through—a process of re-acclimating, recovering from jet lag, and generally gathering their thoughts. When you are a prodigal daughter returning to a busy-body family and a heavily interested synagogue community, of course, the process is hurried along a bit by well-meaning comments and the oft-repeated question: "so nu, what did you like the most?" This is usually followed by a deep breath from the person interested and then another series of questions peppered out at you like gunshots: "do you miss it? What do you like about being home? How was Australia, really? We're better, right? I mean, you don't want to move there or anything. Not that there's anything wrong with that, ha ha ha DON'T YOU DARE GO."

I don't have answers for all the questions (or really, any of them) but I have been compiling a mental list of the many things I miss (and a few things I don't) about life in Melbourne, Australia as a country, and my semester in general. Some of these things will make sense to you and some of them won't—I'm writing this as much as personal reminder as an informative post.

Things I Miss:

• Breakfast at Brunetti's: a little overpriced and in the entirely wrong neighbourhood, Brunetti's was always worth the early morning hike. We had to get there before 10:30 on Fridays to make sure we got breakfast, which was surprisingly difficult. Still, they had the best raisin toast and jam, even if Lauren's bagels always left something to be desired. It had some of the best baby-watching in Melbourne, and I don't care if that makes me sound like a stalker.
  
• St. Jerome's: we didn't go there enough, and I regret that. An awesome downtown open-air bar populated by a relaxed mix of cooler-than-thou hipsters, suits fresh from the cubicles, and students getting away from the campus bar scene, St. Jerome's is low-key, friendly, and has the best DJ on Thursdays. He is from SF, actually, and I sort of fell in love with him when he played Trick Daddy at our request. Also, the bar serves toast with vegemite, which is simultaneously disgusting and awesome.
  
• Unilodge at 339 Swanston, Apartment 708: BEST. VIEW. EVER. I could see the top of the state library from my bedroom (and y'all know how I feel about that building) and our living room looked out over the entire city. I would walk into the living room in the early morning before my roommates were up and watch as the city woke up below me. Also, apparently the windows are good for throwing things out of, but I've never tried that. Honestly.
• Degraves Alley: A fabulous little laneway tucked into the city between Little Collins and Flinders Street (I think - that area of town gets a bit mixed up), Degraves is home to the sketchiest train station, the only waffle place in the city and a collection of small second-hand shops, anarchist bookstores and bobo cafes. Its also dark, dirty and a little sleazy, like only the best parts of a city are.
• Prudence: I mean, really, who doesn't want to spend time at a bar where they provide you with the perfect combination of alcohol and boardgames? I was dismal at Australian Trivial Pursuits but the cocktails more than made up for that. Also, I think the person who chose the music every night must have lived in my brain at one point because I swear, they played the soundtrack of my life there.
• Queen Victoria Market: PRODUCE, PRODUCE, PRODUCE. My goodness, there's nothing like a huge farmer's market in a restored colonial building to make you want a little wheeled cart to pull around behind you and fill with glorious vegetables that will most likely never get eaten.
• The Indian place at Union: Best. Dahl. EVER.
• Melbourne Museum and the Royal Exhibition Building: the museum was sort of a mixed bag of experiences but I spent so much time there that I felt like belonged. Also, the REB is gorgeous and making it the destination of my morning runs almost made the exercise worth it. (Emphasis on "almost," because in the end, nothing could make running on asphalt "worth it.")
• Microwave experiments: You would be amazed at the number of things you can bake in a microwave, as long as you're thinking creatively. Amazed, I tell you.
  
• The trams: I love public transportation and I have a special place in my heart for a system built so charmingly and optimistically on the honor code. I mean, sure, there are ticket-checkers, but they're usually old and fat. If you were desperate, you could easily evade one or, worse case scenario, beat one up.
  
• Biscuits: Tim Tams, Mint Slices, Caramel Crowns, Anzac Biscuits - you name it, I ate it, and probably enjoyed it thoroughly.
  

Things I Do Not Miss:

• Unilodge at 339 Swanston Street, Apartment 708: thin walls, no heat (that puny wall unit doesn't count, especially because I didn't figure out that it was there until three months into the semester), and worst of all, no oven. How did Unilodge expect me to get through finals without the appropriate environment for my late-night procrastinating baking extravaganzas? I didn't make a single batch of chocolate-peppermint cookies or cranberry scones this past semester. Even Experiments in Microwaving couldn't fully rouse me from my ovenless doldrums.
• The ATM Outside of Unilodge That Got Broken Into At Least Once A Week and, Upon Those Weekly Occasions, Was Obligated to Ring an Alarm for Subsequent Hours, Usually Late at Night: enough said.
• Bureaucracy: small schools shelter you, and after three years at Emory I'd gotten soft. University of Melbourne was like being back at Berkeley High, only bigger, more anonymous, and with accents. I loved it, but I could do without the namelessness and the Chaplin-esque feeling of being a very tiny cog in an extraordinarily large machine."
• "Americker": it ends with an "a," not an "er." If you're going to criticize my country, at least get its name right.
• Implied rights: seriously, no bill of rights? No documented protection of the individual from the tyranny of government? Really? Okay, if you're sure. I know I'm like a broken record about this and everyone is probably sick to death of me harping on and on, but I just don't get it.
• Peanut butter; Or rather, Australia's inexplicable lack of appreciation for that most heavenly of confectionery combinations, peanut butter mixed with chocolate. I never thought I would miss a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup quite as much as I did.
• The Changing of the Trams: like the changing of the guard, but with fewer horses, lamer hats, louder noises and at at the ungodly hour of 3:00 AM. There is nothing like the sound of a tram being shut down and, as far as I could tell, physically removed from the track in front of your apartment to wake you up from a wonderful dream about frolicking with peanut butter cups.
  

These are just the highlights; there are many more germinating in my head that may or may not see the light of day. Stay tuned for the Best of My Return to Berkeley post, as well as future musings on my second-favorite secular holiday (I'll give you a hint: there are some truths, and I happen to hold them to be self-evident...).*

Also, I'm around in Berkeley, keeping myself busy with work and spending entirely too much time with my mother (who I dearly love and adore, etc. etc.) so if you're nearby and would like to hang out (or are far away but would still like to hang out and don't mind paying the airfare to do so) please drop me a line.

*In case you were wondering, my first favorite secular holiday is Thanksgiving, because how could I not love a holiday built entirely around the dinner table?

How Could You Let This Happen?

Apparently I was hit by the stupid stick and wrote "the Kind and I" rather than the more correct and understandable "King and I." But none of you thought to correct me. Shame on you.

The King and I: Adventures in Thailand

Okay. So. Thailand. Where to begin? As with any Shoshana-Down-Under trip, I traveled with a girl-gang, but this time my partners-in-crime were Treva Wasserman and Amanda Klein, two Butler girls who lived together in my apartment building and were friends from Providence College.

We left Australia late on Saturday, June 9 and arrived in Bangkok early Sunday morning. We were all a little overwhelmed - the flight was essentially a red-eye and we'd been cramming all week trying to finish exams and papers before the trip. From the lovely new international airport we caught a taxi into the city. We drove by this, which I thought was an exciting introduction to a new city:


The photograph in the middle is a picture of Bhumibol Adulyadej, King Rama IX of Thailand. The current king, he is the longest-reigning monarch in the world. Before coming I had read about the Thai dedication to their monarchy but I was still surprised by all the huge monuments built to the royal family. The royal family and the reverence the Thai people show them is wild and I'll have more on this later - I just thought I'd show you the first really Thai thing I saw on my trip.

The taxi took us to Kao San Road, which is backpacker central for Bangkok and where our bed-and-breakfast was located. Or so we thought. When the taxi driver dropped us off on Kao San, however, we couldn't find it. Other taxi and tuk-tuk drivers kept on drifting by offering to help us but whenever we said the name of our hotel they responded that it had closed down, but they'd "be happy to recommend another place, very nice, I can take you, 100 baht." Little did we know it but this was our first encounter with the taxi drivers of Bangkok, a species apart from all other taxi drivers in the world. We were starting to panic a bit (remember, no sleep, papers, oh, and did I mention the incredibly sweltering heat?) when Amanda (bless her) realized we'd headed down Kao San in the wrong direction. We walked the other way and within five minutes were checked into our very-much-still-open hotel.

After a much needed shower and a long nap (we got in REAL early) we headed into the even hotter morning to drop our bags off at the train station. From the train station we tried to catch a river taxi to Wat Phra Kaew but ended up paying twenty dollars for an hour-and-a-half river tour. Here is the tuk-tuk that took us to the pier:


To explain, tuk-tuks are these weird carts that look like Vespas and have a large backseat that can sit three passengers. They have roofs and are often seen careening around the streets of Thailand's various cities at ungodly speeds. They also don't have seat belts. Riding in them was like going on a horizontal roller-coaster but by the end of my trip they were my favorite form of transportation.

Anyway, the rip-off of a river tour was actually quite nice. Here I am in the back of the long-tail boat:


The river, called the Chao Phraya, runs north to south through the western section of the city but canals, called klongs, branch off of the main artery of the river and stretch east throughout Bangkok. The river tour took us down a few klongs but stayed mainly on the Chao Phraya. It was an interesting, unobtrusive way to see the city. Many residents had houses built on the river but facing the street, so we often got a backside view of their homes. A lot of the backyards had family shrines like this one:


Sidebar: On a night train we took a few days later I overheard a man say in English that "to be Thai is to be Buddhist and to be Buddhist is to be Thai." I think the thousands of Indian, Chinese and Japanese Buddhists in the world might disagree with the second part of his claim but there is definitely something to the first part. Religion is an ever-present part of public life in Thailand. We saw countless family shrines and statues of the Buddha scattered around. Its even intertwined with the state - many monuments are simultaneously to the king and to Buddha.

After the river cruise we headed decisively in the direction of Wat Phra Kaew. Once again, however, the lack of English, oppressive heat and misleading taxi drivers got the better of us. After a few hours of discouraging conversations with drivers who insisted the Wat was closed, but he'd be "happy to take you to another tourist site with lots of stores, only 100 baht to get there," we finally made it to the Wat.

Background: Wat Phra Kaew is an amazing Buddhist temple (wat means temple in Thai) that contains the Emerald Buddha. 66 cm high, the statue was discovered in 1434 when a chedi (the Thai word for stupa, a kind of mound-like structure used for Buddhist worship) in Chiang Rai shattered and a stucco Buddha figure was revealed inside. A monk removed the stucco and found the emerald Buddha underneath it. Wat Phra Kaew is actually part of a larger complex that contains the Wat as well as the Grand Palace. The entire complex is another example of the mingling of religion and state, with people coming to pay their respects as much to the king as to Buddha.

But anyway, the Wat. Here it is the complex from within the first set of walls but before passing through the inner gate:


Hopefully this can convey to you the sheer size of the complex. That was just one side of it, from across the green. Here I am inside the complex, leaning against one of the many temples that surround the temple that actually contains the Emerald Buddha.


This is the temple that holds the Emerald Buddha. The actual statue is in the room beyond the stairs, but you can't take pictures inside. Also, you have to wear modest clothes inside the complex and you can't wear shoes inside the temples. The coolness from the marble on my bare feet almost made up for having to wear a cardigan in 90 degree weather.


The entire complex was incredible and the attention to detail was simply breathtaking. I sort of fell in love with these guys:


Here is a final picture - hopefully it will give you a sense of the scale of Wat Phra Kaew and the Grand Palace.


After Wat Phra Kaew we took off for Vimanek Palace, one of the many royal dwellings scattered around the city. This one was built in the late 1800s by the current king's great-grandfather (I think - I couldn't really hear the tour guide) and is notable for two reasons: it is the largest teak mansion in the world and was built in the western Victorian style. It was used primarily to house visiting dignitaries, and I think its interesting in that it marks a period in which Thailand was beginning to interact with the international community on a large scale. I mean, if you think about, the late 1800s is when The Kind and I takes place. It makes me wonder if Vimanek was built in a Victorian style because the king was just really into gingerbread trim or whether it was an attempt to prove to Western critics that Thailand deserved international recognition as a powerful sovereign nation.

We couldn't take pictures inside but trust me when I tell you that it was beautiful and soothing. Here is the building from the front gardens:


After Vimanek we killed time hanging out at Siam Square, the shopping district where all the painfully hip Thai teenagers go to buy tiny skirts, designer jeans and wander around with milk bubble tea lattes. Then we headed to the train station, grabbed our bags from storage and boarded our night train for Chiang Mai. Here is Amanda marvelling at the engineering involved in creating a second-class upper sleeping berth:


Day two rolls around and we wake up as the train pulls into Chiang Mai. From the get-go Chiang Mai was more pleasant than Bangkok - prettier, more laid-back, and a little colder (and by that I mean "not so hot that my skin is boiling off but still hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk.") Chiang Mai is in the north and is known as the cultural center of Thailand. It has amazing food and is known for its cooking, massage, and meditation schools. More on the first two in a bit. It is also the seat of the ancient Lanna kingdom and is in fact a walled city, with Old Chiang Mai contained within the walls and New Chiang Mai spreading out away from the moat. Because I'm a dork who got excited by walls and moats (I mean come on, moats!), here are both:



After a taxi-ride to our hostel, the incredibly cool but unfortunately un-air-conditioned Julie's Guesthouse, and a shower and lunch we headed out to Wat Chedi Luang. Three blocks away from Julie's, Chedi Luang has the remains of the oldest and tallest chedi in the region. The complex was significantly smaller than Wat Phra Kaew and was totally deserted - the only people around were monks who attend the Buddhist university built around wat. Treva and I both decided that Wat Chedi Luang was our favorite temple out of all the ones we saw in Thailand. Here is a picture of the ruin:


Those four big chunks missing from the wall about a third of the way up in the photo? They once had enormous elephants sprouting out of the sides. You can see the remaining elephants on the other side of the building.

From Chedi Luang we headed to Wat Doi Sutep. Located a few kilometers outside the city in the Doi Sutep national park, Wat Doi Sutep is an incredible sight. We were told by numerous locals that if you don't see Doi Sutep, you haven't seen Chiang Mai. They're right, if only because Doi Sutep rises 1676 meters above the city and has a full panoramic view of the region. The resting place of a piece of the Buddha's body, Doi Sutep is an important pilgrimage spot for Thai Buddhists. According to legend, in the 1300s the king placed the relics of the Buddha on the back of a sacred white elephant and sent it on its way. The elephant walked without stopping until it died of exhaustion. The spot where it died was Doi Sutep and the king built a massive temple and chedi there to house the relics. You can see the top of the gold chedi from the city but the best way to view the wat is to take a taxi up into the national park.

Our taxi dropped us off at the base of the mountain. Stairs wound their way up to the wat, and at the base of the steps were merchants hawking everything from fried shrimp chips to buddha statuettes to water bottles. The water bottles turned out to be practical purchases because leading up to the wat were 206 steep brick stairs.

Once we huffed and puffed our way to the top and left our shoes outside the actual temple complex, we entered the wat courtyard. It was dominated in the center by the enormous gold chedi.


From the viewing platform at the top we could see the whole city laid out before us.


Here are the 206 steps after we'd stomped our way down. I actually had to do it twice because when we got to the bottom I realized I had received the wrong change at the ticket counter at the top. Back up I went and by the time I made it down again my legs were shaking.


By the time we made it down back into town it was time for dinner. We had booked ourselves meals at the kantoke, a three hour formal dinner that included traditional Thai dancing. We were driven out to the Old Chiang Mai Cultural Center and seated on the ground, our knees tucked under low tables. We ate loads of sticky rice, spicy vegetables and soup as Thai women performed traditional dances. The affair was geared entirely to tourists but I enjoyed it. Here I am eating:


And here is one of the dances. At the bottom of the picture you'll notice a little kid. HE WAS ROCKING OUT. Seriously, he kept on trying to climb onto the stage, and when his dad would swoop in and grab him he'd just move over to his mom and bother her with his imitations of the Thai dance moves. I watched him more than I watched the dancers.


The next morning we were off on a one-day trek. Treks are like organized hikes and can last from one day to a week long. They are run through certified agencies licensed by the Thailand tourism board. Our trek took us through the the hill country of Northern Thailand. We started with what might have been the most exciting part: Elephant riding! Unfortunately I couldn't get a great photo of me on top of the elephant, but I promise you I did it. Treva and I sat together on our elephant, and we named him Babar. Here I am, on top of Babar (he's there, even if you can't see him):


We followed the elephant ride with a trip down a river on a bamboo raft. I wasn't about to risk my camera, so I don't have any pictures. I made the right decision, too - our raft was capsized more than a few times and we all got utterly soaked.

After rafting was lunch, and then we made our way to a Karen village. Northern Thailand is the home of the nine Thai hilltribes, of which the Karen are one of the largest. Originally from Burma, Karen villages have now spread across Thailand. In the village we talked with some women who were weaving fabric. The villages have been turned into tourist destinations in an attempt to move tribal economies away from opium production, so even though the village felt a little commercialized I didn't mind the experience. From the Karen village we hiked through the hills, crossing terraced crop fields and almost running afoul of a very mean-looking cow. We made it to a waterfall where we took a break and some of the group went swimming. Here are Amanda, Treva and me:


From the waterfall we hiked to a Hmong village.


As we talked to villagers it started to drizzle. We tried to wait it out but when it became clear that it wasn't going to let up we started walking down the mountain path to the car, parked about twenty minutes away. Which is, of course, when the clouds decided to open up and dump all of their very wet contents on us. Stuck in a downpour I suddenly realized that there was a reason prices were lower during the "wet season." Its because they know you'll have to pay extra to dry your clothes and they feel bad for you.

After we dried off at the guesthouse and stuffed our faces full of pad thai we made our way over to the famed Chiang Mai night bazaar. It was an overwhelming sensory experience, with the bright lights from the stalls mixing with the scents from the street-side food vendors, and all of that coupled with the grabby merchants and the physical flow of multitudes of dedicated shoppers. I loved it, soaking in the atmosphere and honing my bargaining skills. I was rusty at the beginning but by the end of the night I felt that if I wasn't getting a steal at least I wasn't an easy mark either.

After the suprisingly exhausting trek we decided to have a relaxing Wednesday and signed up for a day-long cooking class. What we didn't realize is that eight hours of slaving over a hot wok in a non-air-conditioned room is not exactly a walk in the park. It was, however, amazingly delicious and loads of fun. Here I am, sitting at my work table with my handy knife:


Over the course of eight hours we cooked six dishes: pad thai, spring rolls, tom yum soup, green curry, tofu and veggies, and bananas in coconut cream. By the end I was well acquainted with my wok and in typical me fashion I named her Jolene. The green curry was the most fun to make, if only because we got to do that thing where you cook with the fire INSIDE the wok. During the countdown before we threw the flammable food into the wok I started shaking, positive I was about to burn my eyebrows off. I didn't, of course - you guys would have heard about that. Here I am, cooking with the live flame:


I took pictures of all my dishes, but here the are the two that turned out best. Pad thai:


And spring rolls:


We had planned on going out for drinks that evening but the cooking class wiped us out. Not entirely, of course: we still managed to make it out for round two of the night bazaar.

Thursday was devoted to a morning visit to the Hill Tribe Museum and an afternoon of studying (Treva and I both had exams when we got back, and Amanda invented things to study in commiseration.) In between, however, we managed to get in our second massage. Our first had been on the first day in Chiang Mai, and the experience (which only cost five dollars) was too great to pass up a second time around. We saw massages offered a dollar cheaper elsewhere but the upscale salon experience at our place was more than worth the extra 35 baht. Also, the ladies knew us by the second time. I felt like a veritable local. The experience was amazing - I never thought I'd enjoy being manhandled by an utter stranger so much.

After an uneventful and relaxing Thursday (in which I got no work done) we took the night train back to Bangkok. One exciting moment in a relatively uneventful journey back: when Treva sat down in her seat, she noticed that a bag was already placed in the seat across from her. When the train departed and no one appeared to claim the seat or the bag, she began to worry a bit. An hour into the journey she shared her worries with us. Thailand had experienced some bombings recently and suddenly it seemed all too possible that something might be wrong with this bag. At the same time, however, we knew we were just being paranoid and worried that it might be rude to rifle through some random person's bag. We tried to flag down a train employee but the language barrier was such that he thought we were asking where to put it and just gestured again and again to the overhead bin. We waited until he left and then Treva quickly zipped open the bag with both Amanda and I yelling at her over and over again, "be careful, we don't want to detonate the bomb, don't press so hard, STOP MOVING SO MUCH!" In the end, of course, there was no bomb and we felt like idiots. But at least it makes for a good story, right? Also, Treva gets a gold star for bravery.

We woke up again in Bangkok and after an tumultous taxi ride to our new hostel (way on the other side of town in the "Beverley Hills of Bangkok") we set off for, you guessed it, the markets. Now it may seem like we were being grossly consumerist, and we were. My defense, however, is that our behavior was totally normal. The Thais are HUGE shoppers - I've never seen so many people dedicate so much of their day to the pursuit of commodities. We were only shopping so much because we wanted to abide by the whole "when in Rome" axiom. It was a burden, honestly.

To get to the markets we finally took a real river taxi. It was an suprisingly exciting mode of transportation and was more like a bus than an actual taxi. We waited at the dock on the klong (canal) until the boat came roaring up alongside us. We had to board really quickly because the boat only waited for a couple of seconds before tearing away down the klong. We missed the first one because we were too confused about how to get on (you essentially jump as they don't bother to provide any kind of walk-way or even a gangplank) and we didn't move fast enough. Here we are after we finally boarded a packed taxi:


We had a small Shabbat dinner and wandered around our neighborhood for a bit, but Treva and Amanda had to be up early to catch their morning flight. I wasn't leaving until Sunday so I had all of Saturday to myself. I intended to hunt down a shul but the oppressive heat got to me and I ended up spending the whole day in my room with the air conditioning on full blast, reading and pretending to study for my exam. By the time evening arrived I was going stir-crazy, however, so I decided to do my favorite thing in foreign countries: go to the movie theater. I took the skytrain (Bangkok has a funny monorail system that makes me think of Disneyland) to Siam Square, where all the malls are centered. They all looked the same so I picked one on random. It was five stories high with an acquarium in the basement and it was filled with designer stores and snooty employees. The place was packed with well-dressed, stylish locals out for a night on the mall. I stood out like sore thumb in my travel-worn cotton pants, loose shirt, and dirty flipflops. It was an incredible social experience, watching all these young people walk in and out of pristine stores loaded down with shopping bags. If I was shocked by their lifestyle, I can't imagine what it must be like for outsiders to venture into our shopping centers and see the mall-walkers, the frazzled parents, and the gangs of pre-teens huddled around the various Hot Topics and Abercrombies.

The top floor of the mall was devoted to the movie theater, which was tricked out with chandaliers, silky wall-paper and fancy bars. Here is the theater lobby:


My ticket was so cheap (four dollars!) I decided to splurge on a large popcorn bucket and coke, so I struggled into the movie theater looking like the stereotype of the American glutton. It was awesome. Before the movie (Fantastic Four: The Rise of the Silver Surfer, in case you were wondering) the usual parade of trailers and ads played. When they finished I settled in, expecting the movie to start. All around me people were rustling, however, and one by one they began to stand up. Startled, I joined them, and here's where it got crazy.

I mentioned earlier that the Thai people love their monarch. And when I say love, I mean LOVE. There are pictures of him everywhere - a framed photo of him was in almost every store or restaurant we went to, the sides of buildings are covered in enormous billboard pictures of him and so on. Even buses have side ads that say "long live the king." Lots of people were walking around with orange rubber bracelets like the yellow LiveStrong ones, but instead of promoting a philanthropic cause they all read: "long live the king." Whenever people hear the national anthem (which has a lot to do with the might and benevolence of the king) they stop what they are doing, stand at attention, and sing. The whole thing is a little like Big Brother in 1984, only in this case Big Brother is entirely unmalevolent. There isn't anything oppressive or conformist about their love of the monarchy - the people truly love their king and think he's the best thing since sliced bread.

Back at the movie theater, everyone was standing in preparation for the national anthem, which appeared like karaoke lines at the bottom of a series of scenes involving happy Thai children, the countryside, and shots of the king looking simultaneously royal and like your gentle grandpa. It was one of the trippiest experience of my life - I kept looking around at the other audience members while trying to stay still and respect their custom.

Once the movie was over I went back to my hostel, were I slept for a few hours before driving to the airport. I boarded the plane back to Melbourne, preparing to fail my American Politics exam and get ready to return to America.

So those were my Thailand adventures. I'm writing this in my empty room, about to go to sleep for the last time in Melbourne. I'm not sure how I feel about leaving: I'll probably have a longer "goodbye to Melbourne" post later for those who are interested.

It was Great, We Saw an Ocean, and there was Definitely a lot of Road

So apparently there's this road in rural Victoria. Its, like, great or something. I don't know. There might be an ocean involved? And apparently its sort of pretty?

After months and months of hearing about how awesome the Great Ocean Road is, how beautiful and scenic, how it renews your faith in a higher power and is made of sparkles and cupcakes and happiness, Theresa and I finally managed to see it. Along for the ride (driving, actually) was Ari, who had done the road in February but wanted to show it to her visiting boyfriend Cam. And having seen the road I can assure you that not only is it Great, it is also all that everyone said it would be (minus, perhaps, the cupcakes. I did eat a mad good scone though.)

And here is a snapshot of our cast of characters for this adventure:


I'm going to try to do this in order, but it will be difficult for two reasons: a) its been forever since this happened and now my brain is full of a mixture of Thailand and my American Politics exam and b) we actually drove the road in the reverse direction that most people take it, starting at the end and finishing up closer to Melbourne. Anyway, here goes.

We woke up early on Sunday morning to get the rental car (named Belle, for the famous Bells Beach - site of the Rip Curl Pro surfing championship and our home for our second night on the road), and after a few misdirections and stressful street crossings (Melbourne has the most ridiculous turning lanes) we were on our way. After lunch in a podunk town (there are a lot of those in rural Victoria) we made it to our first stop, the gorgeous Loch Ard Gorge at about 3 pm. Here it is:


It has been threatening to rain on and off all day until finally there was a short deluge. We managed to stay dry in the car, and when it all cleared I saw this. See if you can spot the rainbow:


After the gorge we made our way to the hostel. The Great Ocean Road is known for many things but perhaps the most famous part are the rock formations that make up the Twelve Apostles. You're supposed to see the Apostles at sunset so we napped until 5:30 and then drove the five minutes to the national park look-out point. It was breathtaking. My camera ran out of batteries (of course), but Cam was nice enough to share his photos with me, so the next one is his.


The Apostles are formed over centuries as the waves crashes into the beach, wearing away at the soft limestone of the cliffs. Little by little pieces of the cliffs chip away until there are whole columns of rock separated from the mainland. There are actually only eight Twelve Apostles, at least for now. The composition of them is always changing, however - one is set to tumble entirely soon, but a section of one of the look-out points is getting separated as well.

Watching the sun set over the Apostles was amazingly beautiful, but we came out for another reason as well - when the sun has well and truly disappeared and there are only a few tendrils of light illuminating the beach, gaggles of tiny Fairy Penguins emerge from the surf. It was freezing when we were there and we'd been waiting for thirty minutes with no penguins in sight. We were all ready to give up when suddenly Ari yelled that she saw something. Peering down into the gloom, I was able to make out a few small bodies scuttling up the sand. Suddenly they were all popping up from the shore and scrambling up the beach to the rocks. About half-way up they all reversed and ran back to the water only to reverse again and start the journey all over again. It was too dark to snag any pictures so you'll just have to trust me when I say that it was wonderful.

After a night at the hostel we drove east towards Bells Beach, were we spending the next night. Along the way we stopped at a forest populated by hundreds of koalas. They were hiding in the tops of the Eucalyptus so we drove by slowly, trying to spot them. Here is one that I saw (and hey, my camera started working again! Crazy!):


Isaac, I know I promised you a koala but I couldn't figure how to get this one out of the tree without a tranquilizer dart, and I didn't have any of those on me. I'm sorry I failed you.

We also hiked (well, walked, but it was down some stairs and at a slant, so I'm counting it) down to a waterfall. It was rainier than it had been the previous day, and all the moisture in the air lent a very rainforest-y feel to the entire experience. It felt almost primeval, or like the cartoon dinosaurs from The Land Before Time might step out at any moment.


We got back on the road and headed towards our hostel. Bells Beach is actually a little beyond the start (and for us, the end) of the Great Ocean Road, so we stopped for a picture of this iconic sign before making it to our hostel for the night.


The next morning we woke up real early in order to get the car back on time. As Belle rolled out of Bells Beach I wondered at the insanity of the other people awake at that hour and snapped some pictures of the sky as it slowly lit up.


An altogether fitting end to an utterly stunning visual experience.

P.S. For those watching at home, if you'd like to take a stab at recreating a Shoshi Roadtrip, just follow these easy steps:

1. find a stretch of extraordinarily scenic highway, preferably on a coast
2. search out the grubbiest, cheapest hostels
3. eat the greasiest roadside fries
4. come armed with an ipod loaded with hip-hop, classic rock, hair metal and a bit of country, and an adapter to plug it into the car stereo with

extra points if you manage to bring along three packs of Tim Tams and some pringles for car snacks. Oreos can substitute for the Tim Tams in a pinch.

Drive by Post

I love travelling. I do. And Thailand has been absolutely amazing. But I'm coming to the end of my trip here and I'm looking forward to going home to Melbourne, and then really home to home.

Why am I so ready to come back? Because, to be honest, I'm a little overwhelmed. My feelings of whelmedness stems both from the frenetic nature of Bangkok and also the fact that MY BEST AT THE GUESTHOUSE WAS COVERED IN BUGS OMG AND WHEN I SWITCHED ROOMS AFTER POINTING OUT THE BUGS THEY PUT ME IN ONE WITH NO A/C. So I'm going to spend the rest of the night trying to sleep in the very loud but also wonderfully cold common room.

The thing is, I've been fine with all the crouch-toilets and bad water and pollution and fans instead of A/C and all those other things that come from travelling on a budget in a non-Western country, but after a week I'm ready for my clean bed and A/C, especially because I paid extra baht for it.

Moral of the story: as much as I love travelling, I would not make a good long-term backpacker.

Meanwhile, Back in the Northern Hemisphere...

I have for you an equation: THAILAND = HOT. I am having difficulty typing because the skin on my fingertips has melted into the keyboard.

Also, I am very sunburned.

Its a gorgeous country, though, and I'll have more to say when I'm lucid.

Harbo(u)r City Adventures

Wow, so this seems like forever ago, but on the weekend of May 18 I went to Sydney with Lauren V and Litsa.

I should take this moment to identify all the players in this game: Lauren V is not my roommate Lauren, but she essentially is because her room is literally in the dungeon of our building and has no natural light, leading her to spend most of her time with roommate Lauren, Theresa and me in our apartment. Litsa, meanwhile, is awesomely Greek American, and her whole name is Evagalia Something Greek Georgakilas. We bond over ethnicity, unexpected nicknames, and halva.

So, Sydney: Lauren and I stayed with Amanda, a friend of Lauren's from high school who is studying at McQuarie University in Sydney, and Litsa stayed with a friend from home who is also abroad there. Our flight was absurdly early so that when we made it to Sydney we had a bunch of time to explore but very little energy to do it. A week and a half later its all sort of a blur, so I can't really tell you what I did when, but here are some of the highlights of my weekend:

We always ended up at the harbor at dusk, without fail. I tried to get there during the day to take good pictures, but even then it was overcast and cloudy so it just ended up looking like dusk anyway. Don't worry, though: Sydney is beautiful in any light, as hopefully this photo of the bridge proves.


Okay, so here is the deal: I love the Opera House. It is freaking awesome in all its strange, turtle-y fluidity. I love that it's white, I love that it looks like it could just stand up on one hundred little legs and scuttle off like a crab into the water, and I love its unrepentent modernity. What I don't love is its inability to fit into a regular camera lens unless said camera is eight trillion feet away. The buiding is just too freaking big. This was the closest I could get and still capture the whole building:


One night after dinner we wandered around town, waiting to meet some of Litsa's friends. We had agreed to find them at City Hall, which seemed like a good idea at the time. When we got there, however, it quickly became apparent that there was no way we could locate anyone in the crowd gathered around the building. Why? Because there were scores of people standing stupidly watching a woman throw burning sticks into the air. City Hall was festooned with chinese lanterns and red cloth, and the fire-lady was dressed in an abbreviated ceremonial dress. Here she is:


The crowd grew larger once the dragon-dancers came, wearing their enormous dragon costumes and playing head-achingly-loud cymbals. The colors and lights were fantastic, though. This was all clearly the lead-up for some sort of event happening at the hall, and our wait was rewarded when people in tuxes and gowns started arriving. The highlight of the evening, however, was when a veritable cadre of red motercycles sped up onto the sidewalk and faced off against the dragon-dancers while the passengers sitting side-saddle on the hogs got off, dusted off their evening wear, and swept into the hall. It was quite possibly the most perposterous moment I've ever witnessed, but unfortunately none of my pictures came out well. Sidenote: the event was not a fundraiser for a Chinese charitable foundation, as I had been guessing, but rather something called "Spark of Genius," which is a fundraiser for a schizophrenia foundation. I'm not sure where the Chinese theme comes in - maybe the dragons fighting the motorcycles while fire-bombs go off around them are all meant to symoblize what its like inside the brain of someone suffering from schizophrenia?

You can't do Sydney without a visit to a beach, so on Sunday we took the ferry out to Manly Beach. We chose Manly over Bondi because a) Bondi was going to be insanely crowded and b) we see Bondi Beach every week when we watch Bondi Rescue, a reality tv show version of Baywatch. In one episide a lifeguard saved a Polish surfer who got all huffy, insisting that he was a trained lifeguard in Poland who was an expert in judging ocean tides - it made for amazing viewing. But anyway, Manly. The ferry ride there was great - we were able to see the whole harbor from the boat. We also got mixed up in a boat race, as seen here from afar:


At some points we were a lot closer to the boats, so much so that we started cheering for one when they turned and waved at us. Some of the boats were sponsored by companies, and the funniest sight of the day was watching as the Yellowtail Wine boat practically capsized because they were tilted too low and their sail caught water. All of us on the deck of the ferry were yelling for them to tighten their sail up and get back in the race but they were just milling around or laying out on the stern, totally unconcerned that their boat was about to flip. I think its because their sponsors paid them in product rather than actual money, so they were three sheets to the wind by that leg of the race.

Manly is a beautiful beach with a lovely waterfront town attached, which we walked through. My favorite part of the town center is the fabulous sandwhich shop where I built what I think is the most amazing sandwhich ever: roasted eggplant, sundried tomatoes, cheese, lettuce, pickles and onions on a baguette with balsamic vinagrette dressing. So simple, but something about that place made it fabulous. I tried to recreate the experience back in my apartment but it just wasn't the same. So if you are ever in Manly Beach, go to the Manly Deli and get that. You'll thank me.

We sat around on the sand, eating our sandwhichs and making all the usual small-talk that happens at the beach ("oh, what lovely water, the sand is so nice, I think I'm burning to a crisp, yay skin cancer, what is that girl wearing, who does she think she is, oh my goodness sir, please put your swim trunks back on!") when a little boy ran up and kicked his soccer ball towards us. Now, Lauren V. and Amanda are friends from high school, where they were on the soccer team together. They both get up and start playing with the boy, who was five years old, British, and suprisingly adept at soccer. Here they are:


Our trip also included countless outings to the Paddington Market and the Market on the Rocks. The Rocks, in fact, was were we spent a lot of our time - a charming, if touristy neighborhood of Sydney filled with old buildings and nice bakeries, it abutted the harbor bridge and was a lovely area to wander through in the evening. While hovering around the harbor one afternoon we saw seven wedding parties in full celebratory regalia, so clearly its a popular destination. A couple of times I accidently wandered into a married-couple photo shoot under the bridge or bracketed against the harbor, and then I felt like a huge jerk.

We usually ended our days watching the sun set over the harbor, so I'll finish this post with a picture of Litsa and me outside the Opera House. We were waiting for the Opera House tour to start, and I can assure you that if you are ever in Sydney and have neither the time nor the budget to catch a show there you should definitely go on the tour. It is an amazing, weird, slightly ugly yet fascinating building and it will make the inner theater dork in you jump up and down like a little girl.

Litsa is covering her face with an article she had to read for class, but thats her trademarked hair-bump over the paper (Litsa is interrupting me to inform you that the technical name for her hair-bump is a bouf, and she doesn't appreciate my lack of respect for the title):


So that was Sydney, minus the huge amounts of food I consumed and the ridiculous sums of money I spent on sightseeing, snacks, and drinks. Next up: Great Ocean Road!