Alpaca out of nowhere!

Hopped on the train earlier today and went to the Perth Royal Show with Heather and Sara. The best way to describe the Show is to combine everything about your county/state fair into one single Show. You have livestock shows, dog shows, log chopping, tractors, hamburgers, chicken contests, ferris wheels, camel riding, games, shows, fireworks, and SHOW BAGS! Beyond anything offered at the Show the SHOW BAGS are the big draw for attendees. Basically a SHOW BAG is a goodie bag in which the contents are connected to the central theme of the bag. For example, the "Men's Health" SHOW BAG would have copies of the magazine, a few shaving products (that are advertised in the magazine) and a few other items that men (who would ordinarily subscribe to the magazine) would use/need. The Wonka Candy SHOW BAG would thus contain candies from Wonka and so forth and so on. All across the showgrounds were stalls selling all manner of SHOW BAGS to kids and adults alike. I had my eye on a certain Super Mario SHOW BAG due to its inclusion of a Mario sling bag. Hmmmmm. Sara gave us the tour and in no time we were viewing award winning cakes, cows, pigs, and Alpacas! If you ever get the chance to feel Alpaca wool I highly recommend doing so. Its so soft you wanna go hug an Alpaca! I just like saying that word, Alpaca. Go on, say Alpaca. yeah!

Is your name not Bruce?

Thanks to Taylor Jenkins for bringing this old Monty Python sketch back into circulation.

Surfin' Safari

Surf camp!
We bused to Lancelin and got started right away. By midday I was up on the board actually surfing. Granted that was only about 2 seconds worth of actual surfing, but totally worth the effort. It was a small group of us for the weekend which made the thought of getting lost out to sea a little easier to take considering the instructor had very few of us to count. Donning the wet suit again for the 3rd weekend in a row wasn’t very exciting at all. At this point I’m sick of wet suits and would like very much to try a new activity that doesn’t require one. We suited up, grabbed our boards and headed for the beach just over the dunes. The surf lesson started just like we thought it would: laying on top the board on the beach while pretending to paddle the water. Moments later we were in the water attempting to catch some waves. I suppose the hardest part of learning to surf isn’t really catching the waves but getting blasted by the oncoming waves that you aren’t attempting to catch. It’s like trying to walk a huge dog in a hurricane. (I guess…) By midday Heather and I had caught a few waves (a few waves caught us) and we were ready to beach it for a while. During lunch we got to know our fellow student surfers and I had a chance to talk with a guy from Sweden who had visited Wyoming. Yeah, Wyoming. What’s a Swedish guy looking for in Wyoming? I really wish I asked him that. I just sorted nodded my head and sounded interested at the time thinking he would follow up with something worthwhile. Blasted. The afternoon was well spent fighting waves and getting up on the giant foam boards we were using. Our instructor Howie called us in about 3pm to get packed up for the hostel so we could check-in and have our BBQ. Ideally sliding on the boards down the dunes to the truck would have been the ideal way to get everything back to the parking lot, however Howie felt that actually carrying the boards and walking was a much better method of getting back to the surf truck. Sigh. Packed up and smelling like a fish butt, we piled into the bus and drove off towards the hostel. The brochure promised us "an Australian BBQ" of which we were very excited to receive after a long day of fighting waves and getting sunburned. At the hostel the crowd was getting their rooms assigned when Howie pulled Heather and me aside to show us what he had brought for the BBQ. He had a tray of frozen steaks and sausages, vegetables for salad, and cereal for breakfast in the morning. Oh yeah, lets not forget the Vegemite! Once he showed us all the food he sorta just left the hostel. I suppose when teh brochure stated we would be enjoying a BBQ it meant, "the BBQ you will prepare yourself at the hostel." WHAT A RIP! That being said we regrouped and headed off to the pub for some drinks. Ideally this would allow enough time to thaw the steaks. A few hours later the grilled was fired and dinner was on its way. Even though we had to BBQ ourselves it really brought our little group together and we ended up having a blast.

They say its your birthday?

Today I turned 29. Do I feel 29? What does that even mean?! I'm not certain what to say when people ask me if I feel a certain age. No matter my age through the years, whenever i wake up in the morning I always feel 80 years old. Whenever I see it snowing I feel 10 years old. That new car smell takes me back to 16. I could go on and on with this. I suppose the adage of "you're only as old as you feel" stands to be true. I wish that I had some wisdom to share here but the best I can do is share with you something that has guided me for a long, long time. It's kinda corny but anybody who really knows me can agree that all we need is a day off.

Adventure!

Picked up our hiking boots today for the Tasmanian adventure! Last week Heather found an amazing auction on eBay for some North Face packs that was almost too good to be true. A few clicks later and they were ours. They were delivered the other day (straight from Hong Kong) and I'm not disappointed with them at all. We've almost got everything together for our backpacking adventure next month.

We're in the ScubaSquad.

Rockingham Dive Trail was the site of our the final dives for class. We had a single skill left to complete and then we would be certified scuba divers. The beach was filled with shells and seaweed carried in from the moderate current pushing from the ocean. For me the worst part of today was getting from the beach out to the buoy and from the buoy back to the beach. The actual diving part is so much fun! Its so exhausting to carry all that equipment on your back as you swim out against the waves and current to the dive spot. Coming back to shore isn’t as bad but still tiring. The dive trail is a series of sunken planes and boats that are connected by a cord that you follow through the course. Heather and I saw starfish, crabs, fish, coral, and a host of other sea creatures. The dives went really well and it felt great to actually be scuba diving in the sea rather than in a swimming pool or murky river water. We made our way slowly out of the ocean and back to the parking lot. We packed everything away and headed back to the shop to fill out the necessary paperwork and make it official. It felt really great to sign off on everything and know that the effort was all worth it. Our instructor came around and signed our log books for each dive and finalized the paperwork. With beer in hand (his own way of celebrating another class finished) he congratulated us on a job well done. :)

Success!

Today was the river dive to complete our skills in actual open water. Visibility was awful and we couldn’t see anything with the murky water. Before we left the shop our instructor issued us wet suit hoods to keep us warm in the cold ass river water. Once you were down and settled on the bottom it wasn’t cold at all except for your hands. Gloves were needed next time. We completed our skills and finned around for a bit before coming back on shore. I can't wait to actually dive and see something other than particles floating around. A successful (and tiring) dive day to say the least. Back at the shop we hosed off all our gear and took the final exam. And...........We passed!!! I was tremendously worried about it and knew for sure I wouldn’t do well at all. I guess I was wrong. :) Tomorrow's ocean dives are the last thing we have to do before becoming certified. (!)

Testing 1,2,3.

Studying for our PADI exam.

The Weight.

Second day of scuba diving class: Pool day. We started with a simple (yeah right) 400 meter swim and 10-minute float exercise. We then put on all our gear and entered the pool. Thankfully the gear is much lighter in the water than on land. After a few safety exercises and drills we were ready to actually scuba dive. The instructor let us dive and fin the length of the pool and back. On our return trip I could see the whole class of people and it suddenly hit me that I was scuba diving. Needless to say I was very excited. We stopped for lunch and to catch our breath. All that equipment strapped to you really puts a strain on your body. Especially the weight belt! Our afternoon session was in another pool that was much deeper and suited better for scuba. Most of our session was spent on the bottom of the 4-meter pool. Learning hand signals, equalization, rescue breathing, and more safety measures for a few hours can really tire you out. I became really exhausted towards the end of the session but thankfully there were only a few exercises to go before the end of the day. All in all the worst part so far of scuba is carrying the equipment around. Good grief that crap is heavy. The weight belt and talk are the worst. Eventhough it was an exhausting day we’re halfway to getting through this learning process and that much closer to being actual certified scuba divers.

Scuba!

First day of scuba diving class. There was a lot of information to digest during our all day classroom experience. Looking forward to actually getting into the water and doing something other than memorize calculations of atmospheres and depth. A mentally exhausting day but well worth it. Little did we know that there was so much involved with strapping on a tank of air, some fins and a mask while you search for sunken treasure!

Breathe In.

Our last didgeridoo lesson was tonight. Kinda sad because we’ve only had four lessons but really had a great time. What began as a “If you’re in Oz you gotta do this” thought became a very, very interesting and rewarding thing to do. We’ll plan on keeping up with the instrument as much as we can to get our techniques refined. Its definitely not as easy as it looks! Thankfully the shop in Fremantle where we took our lessons invited us to come and practice there anytime. Below is a video of our instructor Levi filmed during last year's concert.

Get on the Bus.

We left the monastery behind and drove to Lancelin. The route we drove would wind around the farmland and then head straight to the coastline. The farmland opened up and pasture after pasture was spread out before us as we kept on driving. We must have passed at least a thousand sheep on our way. The road curved sharply and the dirt on the shoulder became a little sandy. The crest of a hill showed us the roaring Indian Ocean and signs for the little beach bum town of Lancelin. Other than residential homes, Lancelin has very few stores or businesses. Those they do have are very local and well worth your time. We checked into the hostel and put our gear in our room. It was father’s day weekend in Oz and a group of dads and sons were staying in the hostel celebrating in the same way Aussies celebrate anything: Beer, BBQ, and The Footy. (oh yeah and ping-pong. Not really a staple of the OZ lifestyle but well worth mentioning here.) The Endeavor Pub in Lancelin is where we found a hearty meal and a pint. The cold ocean breeze blew into the pub and signaled that I should warm up with another pint. The place was filled with locals eating, drinking, gambling, and just enjoying life. The Fish n’ Chips weren’t bad either so it got my vote.
Lancelin is the windsurfing capital of the world (so they say) but Heather and I weren’t there for the windsurfing. We were there for the Monster Bus. The dunes of Lancelin cover about 400 acres and attract all kinds of weirdoes with insane off road vehicles. We were about to ride in one of them. The north edge of town disappears into the dunes like a flood eats a village. In the parking lot (well, basically it’s a shoveled out dune area where you won’t get stuck.) were a few cars that in no way could survive a drive across sand dunes much less across town. In the lot we talked a young guy named Mick who was there with his buddies and their dirt bikes having a god time. Mick's white van was full of bags, guitars, and equipment boxes. His dreadlocks, tattoos, and extremely laid back Oz accent assured me that this was one guy who knew how to have a good time. I later learned that he works the rigging for Cirque du Soleil. Very cool. He jumped in an SUV and raced into town with his buddies. Their quick exit can only mean one thing: beer run.
HONK! HONK! From the roadway you could see nothing but tires. Looking up, the glazed yellow paint reflected the sun back into your eyes. The sound was both menacing and worrisome. When it braked to a stop what was before us had never been seen with these two eyes. It was the Monster Bus. A 20ft tall coach bus sitting on monster truck tires. If Bigfoot saw this he would shed a tear. I would spend more time describing this monstrosity but I think you can picture it. The driver climbed down via a drop down ladder in the rear. I looked around and noticed that we were surrounded by a bunch of Asian tourists wearing Members Only jackets. Apparently when we were gawking at the Monster Bus their tour-bus unloaded. (I'd make some sort of Godzilla reference here but that would be tacky.) Once the driver (a crazy Aussie) took our money we climbed into the belly of the beast and took our assigned seats. Weight distribution is important in this instance so it was very important to make sure no fatties were sitting on the window seat. We roared off onto the dunes. Now I’ve been offroading before many times, but nothing like this. The bus dwarfed everything out there. Nobody in eyesight could look away from us as we charged up dunes at a literal vertical ascent. Likewise, the driver took no time in delaying us going down said dunes at a literal vertical descent. This is no joke. Usually I would be absolutely terrified but since we were on the ground (essentially) it was an awesome ride.
The driver parked the bus and we all hopped out to do some sandboarding. Basically, you sit or lay on a snowboard and slide down the dunes. It was fun don’t get me wrong, but walking up a fricking sand dune isn’t fun. No sir. The Asian tourist group with us decided to not pay attention to their translator and go off from the group and have some fun. The driver was not happy. Whatever. We had a good time. Back in the bus we buckled in and prepared to return to the parking lot. The driver put the bus in reverse and we backed down a vertical sand dune. Yeah, read that again. In the parking lot we shook the sand off ourselves and watched as the Monster Bus drove away exciting everyone in its path.

Monks Vol. 2

Packing our bags from the night we scampered out of the room just as the maids were coming round. In the daylight the artwork and restoration of this hotel was absolutely marvelous. The best way to describe it would be to say that it’s the perfect house to hold one of those murder-mystery dinners. Outside we armed ourselves with cameras and began to document the hotel. Yeah, we’re still tourists sometime. Down at the museum gallery we bought our tickets for the tour and waited with a busload of travelers on their hurried way through the next stop. The tour took us through every building on the property except for a few that are solely the residence of the monks. Each building had its own chapel that ranged in appearance and decoration from modern to early 19th century. The artwork and sculpting were unbelievable. Each chapel is in some form of renovation or repair. The next few buildings were originally built for the school system at the monastery. Having genders as well as colors (white and aboriginal) separated in the system required a building for each. After the tour we walked around the property and gazed at the beautiful farm landscape. The green hills rolled through the pastures of sheep and up to the forest, down and around the creek. Living in this part of the world wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for that whole being a monk thing. ;)

Monks Vol. 2

Packing our bags from the night we scampered out of the room just as the maids were coming round. In the daylight the artwork and restoration of this hotel was absolutely marvelous. The best way to describe it would be to say that it’s the perfect house to hold one of those murder-mystery dinners. Outside we armed ourselves with cameras and began to document the hotel. Yeah, we’re still tourists sometime. Down at the museum gallery we bought our tickets for the tour and waited with a busload of travelers on their hurried way through the next stop. The tour took us through every building on the property except for a few that are solely the residence of the monks. Each building had its own chapel that ranged in appearance and decoration from modern to early 19th century. The artwork and sculpting were unbelievable. Each chapel is in some form of renovation or repair. The next few buildings were originally built for the school system at the monastery. Having genders as well as colors (white and aboriginal) separated in the system required a building for each. After the tour we walked around the property and gazed at the beautiful farm landscape. The green hills rolled through the pastures of sheep and up to the forest, down and around the creek. Living in this part of the world wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for that whole being a monk thing. ;)

Monks

Picked up a rental car today and attempted to drive it back to the apartment without freaking out. Not only has it been months since I've actually driven a car but now I have to sit on the opposite side of the car and drive on the opposite side of the highway. We packed the car and drove up the Great Northern Highway towards New Norcia. I successfully passed some road trains (18-wheelers with more than one trailer) on the way and tried my best to not run us off the road when the lines on the pavement disappeared. A few hours later we arrived at this great hotel in New Norcia run by the monks. From the outside it has an odd appearance of a plantation house. Inside there was obviously a pub and rooms filled with amazing art and fireplaces. Upstairs via a double grand staircase were the guest rooms unchanged since the days this place was opened as a hostel for parents coming to visit their children while there were being educated at the monastery schools. Our spartan room came equipped with an electric heater and a small refrigerator. The bathrooms/shower rooms were down the hall and shared with all guests on the floor. The pub downstairs was very quaint and filled with what could only be called “regulars.” We ordered dinner just as the kitchen was closing. One of the draws to this place was the Abbey Ale that is specifically brewed here for the monks and sold only on the premises. We each ordered a glass of the ale and enjoyed our bangers and mash in this monastic hotel. When we retired for the evening the floorboards creaked all the way into bed. Kinda eerie but I suppose I shouldn't worry, right? It is a monastery.