The End of An Era...

SPOILERS - This is the last post in the series of blogs.  Go back to the beginning if you're just joining us!

I have some grey news today I’m afraid... It’s my last blog post pertaining to my trip to Australia... But not to fear, there is good news at the end of the post.

Also, no pun for you today I’m afraid... I’m all juiced out.  It feels like someone pointed an “Oust Ray” to my head and emptied it of all creativity.  On second thought, I’m lying.  I’m telling a bold faced “Oust Ray Lie, Yeah.” One last one for the road!  You can now regain your sanity!

And that is no longer where I am writing from... 

You must be wondering why I haven’t updated my blog in over a month... Well, a month ago I started writing a post entitled: “A Month Left” and it just got me thinking that my time in Australia was almost up and I think that subconsciously, I kept delaying finishing it because I didn’t want to have to think and write about the fact that I was leaving Australia.  Nevertheless, trying to delay the inevitable never works... As I am the witness, sitting here in my parent’s house, back in Ottawa, 16 000 km away, the time came when I had to pack my bags and say my goodbyes.

For those of you who enjoyed reading this blog (I’m still not convinced these people exist...), I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more material to sink your teeth into... But I just couldn’t get myself to the same mindset I had been in while writing before.

It seems that only yesterday I was dreading having to pack my bags for 6 months.  The only Australian I had ever met was Lauren, who was on exchange at my school.  I had met her twice for brief periods of time and she instantly offered for me to live in her share house. I must say, Lauren, that I don’t even want to consider what my experience would have been without your offer.  Alright, let’s say it... CRAP!  It seems silly that your simple gesture set the tone for what, to me, turned into one of the most beautifully ephemeral periods of my life.  No worries... An Australian motto; basically the motto for my trip.  Although sweaty as hell for the major part of my stay, I was able to strengthen my sense of self and, for the most part, be completely at peace with that sense.  That, my Australian friends, is the greatest gift that you gave me throughout the ridiculously generous amount of gifts that I received during my stay (Seriously, I felt cheaper than a cheap student!).

It is with a heavy heart that I headed for the airport on that Wednesday morning.  Emotionally exhausted for having stayed up basically 3 days in a row before leaving (I went to my room, but I didn’t sleep much...), I was clutching to people, places and things that had made my experience what it was as they slowly seeped through my fingers like a fistful of sand.  Ask anyone who had the unfortunate task of accompanying me to the airport, I lost it.  At a loss for words, I gave my final hugs, picked up my bags, swallowed my courage and headed to security.

I’m glad my trip ended up taking so long (36 hours).  I needed some alone time to think things through and live out whatever had to be lived out.  Yes, I grieved for the end of that particular moment in my life and sorrow was the main theme but near the end of my trip I was no longer preoccupying myself with sadness.  I started thinking about possibilities of new adventures in the future.  That even though this particular one was over, the details pertaining to the adventures I was to have in the future were largely my choice. After that, things didn’t seem so bleak anymore.  I was, and am, in control (to the extent that one can be) of my future.  We do not decide when, how or where we encounter the people and places that influence us, but we do decide how to react to them.

As for this blog, I tried to use it to give you a window into my experience but there are countless experiences that I left out simply because there were too many to choose from...  Being Kidnapped to Byron Bay, Park Life, Tom and Kara’s 21^st, the Normandy nights, Jess and I’s Sydney & Maryborough trips, the epic saga that was golf with the boys, the Wisest Wizard, countless nights on Caxton St. (whether they be inside or outside the manor).  I will most likely undertake another blog endeavour in January and will let you know then what is in store.

To my friends from Australia, I’m still at a loss for words... Thankfully, music has been there for me since I’ve been back and in the words of Marcy playground in their song, “Sex and Candy”, all I can muster up to convey my experience to others at this point is: “Mama, this surely is a dream...” (Link)  Your humility, generosity, kindness and blatant obliviousness to how cool you actually are gives me faith in our generation; worldwide(Those of you to whom this applies, you know who you are... Yeah! You!).

I leave you with a few pictures that have marked my trip and the solemn promise of: "Till next time".

Watching rugby at the Caxton. I love rugby.

My girls from exchange! Didn't get a photo with Kat :(

First night out with the coolest kids I know.

Kara's 21st. Da bomb.

Tom's 21st.  Never seen a birthday party like this one... lol

EDIT : Late addition following threatening comments... lol 

Your unconditional friend,

Joey Jo Jo

Tales of Fraser Island - Part 3. The Epicness Peeks and Unfortunately Ends

It’s now time for the long awaited conclusion to my most memorable trip here so far, by far.

Now where were we?  Ah yes, we made the sky cry.  We did not know it at this point but everything was about to go “austral, yah”? (Credit to my good friend Tom for coming up with this beauty.  “We’re not worthy!” Austral: relating to the south.)

...and that's where I'm writing from

By the time we got to the tents, it started to really pour down.  We parked the truck, grabbed everything we needed and went to the biggest tent to spend our evening.  Thankfully, we checked all the tents and we had closed them before leaving in the morning so everything was still dry (including Nicol’s guitar, WHICH HE HAD STILL NOT USED).  We hung out in the tent for most of the night and eventually it stopped raining.  It’s a pretty great thing that Nicol and I were staying in the same tent because eventually, everyone went to bed except us.  Absolutely not ready to stop our evening dead in its tracks, we headed to the beach with an ipod and some speakers.  We spent the evening rekindling with music I had listened to profusely in high school (Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and the likes).  Let’s just say that chilling right by the ocean, which only hits land again in South American, hours away (or days, depending on your mode of transportation), listening to some sweet tunes, you feel insignificant.  Oddly enough, that feeling makes me feel alive.  When I stand there, looking out into the ocean, my worries seem as important as a grain of sand on the very beach I am standing on; basically, they disappear.  Euphoria.

Next stop, South America! (and with that raunchy beard, you're sure to score some chicks)

But it gets better.  A kilometre or two down the beach, Nicol and I spotted some lights.  They were moving from side to side on the beach at a fairly good speed, creating lines of light… Curious, we decided to walk over and possibly:

A)     Make some new friends.

B)      Make some new enemies.

C)      Discover a light new creature of the light emitting variety.

D)     Walk onto the set of a crazy light show setup for the filming of a music video to be aired on MTV.

As we approached, we discovered the source of the light.  Battery powered, rainbow lit, glow in the dark FRISBEES! I swear, I was like a kid in a… Battery powered, rainbow lit, glow in the dark Frisbee store. What’s the bonus I hear you asking? The people throwing around the Frisbee were all Canadian.  WHAT! UP! (Thank you Barney for associating words to that feeling).  Unfortunately, they were heading to bed, but they let us play with their Frisbee for a while.  After a short burst of total content, we also got sleepy and headed for the tent and went to sleep.  I got up at a certain point to go get something in the truck.  So to my own surprise, when I got to the truck, I could not remember for the life of me what I had come to get.  Since the tent was pretty far away, I decided to simply sleep in the truck. ZZzzzz!

A couple hours later, I awoke to the sound of frantic exchange students all trying to get into the truck as fast as possible.  To their surprise, I had already won the race! Hehe… “What are you guys doing?”, I asked. “Can’t you hear the rain?” I then turned my attention to outside.  I kid you not, I have never seen rain like this.  It seemed like a solid curtain waterfall, yet it was falling out of the sky.  The only words to describe it are Monsoon type rains!

Everyone bailing on the incredible rain.

-Why are you all coming in here?

- The rain collapsed our tents!

-Hold on, where is Nicol?

Joël: I’m on it!

I tore my shirt off to reveal I was simply in a bathing suit and dashed off into the distance to go check on our Scottish friend.  As I arrived to the tent, the zipper was… How do I put this? Open. For who knows how long, it has been “waterfalling” into our tent.  Nicol was sound asleep, and surprisingly dry.  We had set the tent up on a small slope and all the water had collected on my side of the tent.  I now had extra specs to add to my sleeping bag: “It soaks up water GREAT!” I considered waking Nicol up but my attention drifted to his guitar.  It was in the tent and minutes away from coming into contact with water.  So I grabbed it and ran it back to the truck as fast as I could. STUPID GUITAR!  When I got to the truck, they had made me some room to sleep.  I, being the stubborn person that I am, told them I had to uphold the Canadian in me by going to sleep in the tent… Even though, I was already passed out in the truck earlier… Nobody caught onto that.  Don’t worry my Canadian friends, I’m representing us as rugged, unphasable outdoorsmen.  However, before heading to the tent to attempt to sleep, I took the time to crack open a beer and bask in this rare rainy paradise.  Since the temperature was still fairly hot, I didn’t get cold standing in the rain.  It was probably the highlight of my trip.  Afterwards, I spend the rest of the night basically holding our tent up from the inside while Nicol slept.  When he finally awoke at around 6 am, we victoriously climbed out of our crappy tent, strutted over to the truck and claimed our 20$, very basic tent to have outlived all the other fancy, expensive tents (with a little work, but still).  Admittedly defeated, what they didn’t know was that we had about 5-6 litres on water inside our tent and that the only sleep I had gotten was curled up in a ball in a corner for about 30 minutes.

The little tent that could.

Visibly tired, we spent our last day on the island visiting a few lakes, creeks while baking in the sun.  My favourite part of the day was on a 5 km walk to a lake, we had to cross these hug dunes and while standing in a dip in the middle of the dunes, all I could see around me was sand and blue sky; amazing that this island contains so many different climates.

"Meditating on the beach"

On the drive back to the ferry, I decided to try driving the big 4x4. It’s INSANE to drive on sand and is definitely not for low confidence drivers… I felt like I was driving a boat.  The long trek home was only interrupted by the fact that we missed the last train back to Brisbane in a town about 2 hours drive away.  Next train, 4:30 am the next morning.  We sat at the McDonalds, eating away our pains with crappy food and pondering our next move.  Thankfully, when I called my roommate Renn, he offered to come pick us up; super Renn and super Kim to the rescue!  They really saved the mood of the end of the trip.  I am eternally grateful and in debt!

Lesson learned – NICOL NEVER PLAYED HIS GUITAR!

That’s not so much a lesson as it is an outburst of anger, but you will understand.

Did I not promise epicness?  Just in case you're not satisfied, I got this epic shot of me failing to hold a handstand and falling off a post:

What a pretentious idiot.

Australianly yours,

Joël

P.S. Shout out to my one and only Estonian reader in this post!  That's awesome!

OH, THE VOMIT!

My friend Dorothy, which I nicknamed Leah, and I were walking in the woods today.  We strayed off the path and got lost.  I don't know how we managed because the path was made of bright yellow bricks.  When I finally spotted the path again I asked: "Shouldn't we go back on the Oz Trail, Leah?"

...

And that's where I'm writing from.

My plan was to sit down and write part 3 of my Frasier Island trip today but a more compelling story came to mind so unfortunately, part 3 will have to wait for a bit.

A couple nights ago, the roommates and I had much to celebrate!  I don't remember the exact details but, in short, we ended up at the pub across the street and had a jolly olde good time.  Apparently, some of us... *cough* You know who you are *cough* had a hard time holding our liquor and came home early.  We proceeded to vomit in the middle of the hallway, turned off the lights, go to bed and leave it there, all the while making sure the front door was locked.  Now the hilarity about to ensue would have been hilarious for yours truly if it had not involved him.  A series of unfortunate events(UE's as I like to call them) unfolded, all prompted by the seemingly innocent and unimportant actions of others.

At about 10pm, I decided to swing home to grab my friend James' camera stuff because he was heading home.  He accompanied me along with my roommate and her friend, first UE.  I got home first, noticed that the front door was locked, second UE, and ran down to the back of the house to come around and unlock the door for the others.  James followed, third UE.  As I got to the top of the stairs and started walking towards the front door, at the other end of a long, narrow hallway, my roommate and her friend, realizing that the door was locked, started banging at the door, fourth UE caused by first UE.  I therefore increase my movement speed to jog.

So there I was, jogging to the front door to be a good Samaritan, minding my own business when a second away from reaching the door, the soul of my foot, which is normally a pretty sturdy surface to rest my weight on, became very unstable due to the fact THAT I WAS RUNNING IN VOMIT!  I pulled a classic, just like in the movies, slip on the banana peel kind of stunt and slid all the way to a very nice, yet unplanned and unorthodox meeting with the front door.  BAM!

My roommate, thinking I was trying to be smart with her by banging the locked door from the inside, politely asked me to stop fooling around and open the door: "OI! Open the door, $%&*!".  My only reply was: "THERE'S PUKE EVERYWHERE!"  All the while, James was following me and all he could muster up was: "HAHAHAHAHA!" When I finally got around to opening the door, and the situation became clear to my roommate because of the vomit smeared on my behind, I became the proverbial butt of the joke, that was mentioned for the next couple days.

Suffice to say I showered up and called it a night, for good reasons.  The next day, unmasking the culprit was my utmost priority.  Fingers and blame were aimed in all directions.  I finally found the culprit and forgave them, mostly because I still owe them lots and also, they added another hilarious story to my already sparkling collection.

I think you'll agree that putting part 3 on hold for a while was worth it.

Lesson learned: NEVER RUN IN THE DARK.  Nothing good will ever come of it.

Australianly yours,

Joël

P.S. You will understand that I chose not to include pictures in this post.

P.P.S. Google added this cool functionality in blogger that lets you see where people are reading your blog from.  I'd like to take this opportunity to shout out to my 18 readers from Russia!  INSANE! Let me know what you think/want to hear about!

Tales of Fraser Island – Part 2. The epicness begins.

When the sky was lit up like an expensive pair of diamond studded macro made leather shorts on Fraser, I decided to lie down on the ground and try to spot constellations.  I came up with a name for this exciting and entertaining activity!  I call it and Astral Lie, ya? What do you think? Will it catch on?

Putting aside my ever worsening puns, we re-join the rest of my exchange buddies and myself about halfway up the coast of Fraser Island, waking up to the waves and birds on the dawn of our first full day on the island. Oh yeah, and we had brought Nicol’s still UNUSED guitar in the tent with us… It was in the way is all I’m saying… Hopefully, the main animal we are warned against while entering the island, the dingo, hadn’t tried to get into our coolers. Nope!  Everything was cool and our 20$ tent had held up the night! BONUS!  All it had to do was hold on for another.  Game plan for the day: Head up to the very end of the island to Indian Head to see the sights, visit the Champagne Pools and come back in time to make supper during daylight.  Wait hold on… Did you just say Champagne Pools, Jo? Yes. Yes I did.  Imagine my excitement.  Now imagine that same excitement being immediately crushed by someone telling me it wasn’t actual champagne… I died a little inside.  Yet, I keep my dream of one day finding a container, whether naturally formed or not, filled with beverage of any kind in which I can take a GLORIOUS swim.

Indian Head – During our two hour drive up to this place, we came across 10-20 trucks stopped on the beach, with all their passengers disembarked and attentively staring and pointing at the ocean… Being the independent, strong willed leaders that we were, we stopped to see what the fuss was about…  Believe it or not, there were a group of humpback whales putting on a show about a kilometre out.  Jumping, diving and flailing about like we had paid good money for tickets to this show.  INCREDIBLE.  I started talking to one of the people on the beach who told me he had come regularly to the island for the past 20 years and had never seen anything like this.  We were mesmerized to say the least.  After about 20 minutes, the whales dispersed and we got on our way knowing full well we may never see that again, ever.  Then I noticed that my water bottle was missing from the car and I swear I had had it moments beforehand.  I swear… Someone trained those whales to distract passersby while they steal their FRESH WATER! It was never seen again. 

When we got to Indian Head, we walked up to the very top of a cliff out looking the endless ocean.  The water below us was clear enough for us to see everything going on beneath the surface.  Turtles, manta rays, fish, dolphins and sharks were all viewable from this incredible lookout spot.  The incredibly oversized cherry on top of this already towering (insert favourite cake flavour here) cake was that the humpbacks (whether they were the same ones are not is unknown) decided to start going Marineland on us once again, 1 or 2 kilometres out.  INTENSE! Which one? The present one.  I didn’t know what to do with myself! Yell, sleep, cry, dive out and join them? Let’s just say I was a bit overwhelmed! Plus this cliff was on a skinny peninsula so our peripheral vision was simply ocean.  It was like being suspended over this incredible ecosystem with front row tickets to its happenings.  I don’t know how much time we spent standing there but…  I’m sure dust collected on our paralysed, jaw dropped faces. 

Okay... Maybe we weren't paralyzed the whole time...

Champagne Pools – When we finally left, already content enough to go back home and call this trip a success, we headed to the Champagne Pools which had already disappointed me once today.  Stupid non alcoholic pools… So I set the bar really low for this destination and I believe that’s why I enjoyed it so much more! 

Look at this place! Two incredibly well deigned pools, formed by these rock formations at the exact height of the ocean and just deep enough for you to sit in without having you head engulfed by salt water.  When big waves came in and crashed against the rocks, we were treated to a water show only rivalled by multi-million dollar firework shows.  Now that’s value for you.  

There was a pelican fishing in the pools!

By the time we decided we should leave this place, the majority of our day had already vanished.  We drove back to one of the campsites for people not brave enough to camp on the beach and used one of the public barbecues because we were running out of gas for our Coleman.  Unfortunately, the sky was not as calm as the night before and we did not have the pleasure to meet the stars once again.  As we started driving back to our “campsite”, and I say “campsite” because we were basically camping on dunes, the sky became angry and started to cry.  We could not figure out what we had done to anger it but it wasn’t happy… Hopefully, everything at the campsite would be intact, in working condition and dry on the inside… Tune in for part 3 to find out!

Yours for the reading,

Joey Jo Jo

Tales of Fraser Island – Part 1

To start off, I have to mention that I met this smoker the other day. I nicknamed him Ash Tray. I noticed he wasn’t very good at telling the truth. Later that night, Ash told some stories that were questionably true. Hence, I am writing to you from the land of the “Ash Tray Lie, ya”?

Enough with the pleasantries… Fraser Island! Largest sand island in the world, it was the location I headed to last week for my spring break. Fairly remote and desolate, you absolutely need a 4x4 to get around on this island as there are no roads. I went with a few friends from exchange and did not have a great part in planning the trip and did not really know what to expect. I basically packed the morning of at 4 am, headed to the train station, unknowing of what lay ahead of me… Epicness my friends.

Having not planned the trip, I did not know how long it would take to get there… I figured I didn’t want to ask the others not to look like a fool who was just along for the ride… Besides… I figured it couldn’t be that far, right? RIGHT? *crickets*

Two hours of riding on the train later, we arrived at a station. AWESOME! We’re almost there. “So where is the 4x4 rental place?”, I asked naively… I was met with “Right off the main drag when we get to Noosa Heads” as an answer. Hmmm… Now I’m confused… Why did we get off the train? “Right-o.” was my response… “The bus gets here in 15 minutes guys”. Cool! We’re taking a bus. I can totally pull off looking like I know where were going. I get my ticket and get on the bus. About an hour later, we get to the final stop. “Everybody off!” I look around a bit and realise we’re in Noosa Heads! Awesome, we’re getting our 4x4 here and then we should be like 20 minutes away from the island! WRONG! We get our 4x4 and I overhear a phone conversation to people we are supposed to meet indicating we’ll be there in two hours. At this point, it’s about 11 in the morning. The fact that we left at 5:30am suddenly hits me. IT ALL MAKES SENSE! I’m in for a longer day than expected. We get to our meeting spot and try to fit everything in our car… Thank god I’m good at Tetris. Doo doo Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo(Count them… They are all there. If you don’t understand, FOR SHAME!). Still, we were packed to the brim. I was packed up in a little ball, had a guitar on my lap and well, just to make things sweeter and keeping with the Australian theme I was sweaty as hell. I mentioned in passing to the guy who brought his guitar that if he didn’t use it while we were there I would… How to put this… Dismember him.

I was obviously not prepared for this trip!

We finally got to the island about 20 minutes later and it became evident to me that this place was going to be an adventure and a half. As soon as we got off the barge and were officially off the coast of Australia, I knew we were in for something unique… We were driving on the beach, in the sand with the ocean as far as the eye could see to our right, forest to our left and endless beach in front of us! INSANE! I just tried to take it in… I swallowed a fly with my head out the window and told myself I probably shouldn’t try to take it in literally… After two hours of this, we came upon one of the main attractions of the island – the Maheno Shipwreck. I won’t bore you with the details of the ship, but it was caught in a cyclone in 1935 and washed up on the island. It was impressive to see this incredible structure defeated by time and weather.

We then continued on our journey up the side of the island to try to find a suitable camping spot behind the dunes to try to outwit the blanket of darkness that would eventually fall upon us. Nicol, a Scot, and I had gotten the cheapest tent possible (20$) and pitched it in about 3 minutes. While everyone else had trouble putting up their fancy tents, we had already cracked open our first beers. HA! It pays to be… Thrifty. I say it now, and shall repeat it many a times during this tale, I assure you.

By the time we started cooking diner, the sky was lit up with an unfathomable amount of stars. I don’t think I’ve ever seen as many stars in the sky… If only we could turn off our cities at night we would be able to witness this spectacle on a daily basis. This excitement was tamed by the fact that we, as a group, forgot to bring a knife and that cutting things would prove most difficult with our stubby, unsharpened fingers… Thankfully, I had brought my trusty Swiss army knife.

Sidebar – There’s a Swiss army? And there still fighting with knifes!?! No wonder they never participate in the wars! They would get smashed!

I now realize that this post is getting pretty lengthy and would you look at that… I have a class starting so I will leave it at that for now and I promise that part 2 is at least twice as good as part 1. That’s where all the funny happened. Check in soon.

Joey Jo Jo

The clumsiest day of my life, so far…

Important note: I saw a dingo on a recent trip to Frasier island (which will be the subject of my next post coincidently) and named it Lia.

Writing to you from a place where I saw "A stray Lia",

Waking up yesterday, I thought to myself, as I try to do every morning: "Another beautiful sexy day for me to love. Can't wait to bask in it's company". Well, let me tell you yesterday was a dirty strumpet and I never want to see her again.

It all started when I popped into work for my shift. Sidebar: I recently got a job at the restaurant directly across the street, The Caxton, as a waiter to accumulate some extra scratch… Yeah, thought I would try that word out. It's not working. Don't worry. I won't use it again. Promise. What was I thinking…

In any case, I knew I was walking up a slippery slope when I was trying to get some knifes from a drawer to set up some tables when I managed to... How to put this... Pull the drawer out of its socket, making it plummet to the floor along with about a hundred clean knifes. BAH! I JUST POLISHED THESE LAST NIGHT! This may not seem like a major event to you... Big deal, right? A couple knifes on the floor... WRONG. At this restaurant, after the cutlery is washed, every single piece is hand polished and I absolutely despise having to dedicate my smooth, soothing touch to this activity. That’s right ladies... Oh man I’m creepy. Suffice to say I produced a good 20-30 minute chunk of polishing work.

But it doesn’t stop there. A footy team (don’t ask me what that is because I am all confused about sports here... All I ever see on TV is what I define as rugby yet I have never heard anyone utter the word rugby since I’ve been here) had reserved a part of the restaurant for a function and so we had to set up the restaurant to accommodate such an event; move tables, plastic plants, chairs, etc. Well, about halfway through the set up, my trustworthy pants abused the trust I had instilled in them by deciding to explode at the ass seam when I bent over to grab a plastic plant. Imagine the biggest rip you’ve ever had in your pants. Done? Good. Now double its length and you’re probably close to the size of the rip I had down the middle of the back of my pants. I’m really glad I decided not to go with the theme these plastic plants I was moving reminded me of: commando. So I took my break, after being laughed at by the staff, to run home and try to fix these pants and go back to work.

After about 15 minutes of trying to thread the needle with no avail, let’s just say my regular eloquent speech took a backseat to more raw emotional verbage. That’s right, verbage. Renn, my roommate, asked for a try and got it on the first try. WHY DO MY FINGERS HAVE THE DEXTERITY OF A LOAF OF BREAD TODAY?! It’s like trying to thread a needle with chopsticks... I then proceeded to sew up the pants and SOMEHOW, the needle broke in half...

...

Let’s be polite here. The pants were thrown with vigor. Renn offered to lend me another pair of pants. I accepted and went back to work taking a few deep breaths.

As I got there, the diner service was about to start and a few things were left to be done: amongst other things, filling up stations across the restaurant with cutlery. “Yeah, I’m up for it.” Carrying the cutlery bucket with these wooden pirate stubs I had for arms, I set it down on the corner station only to have it lose balance and fall to the floor along with half of its contents. I will spare mentioning the angst this creates as it has been mentioned but by this point, I reached a mental state of frustration and disempowerment only equalled when you get kicked in the genitalia. I then heard someone in the vicinity remark:”That’s the second time you do that today.” Yes. Yes it is. I’m glad someone is keeping count. Maybe I can take a stab at the record.

The rest of the shift went fine, but was overshadowed by my kicked in the balls feeling. I got home a couple hours later, nobody was home. Thank god this day is over. I did not know at this point that it in fact wasn’t over. Seriously. I went to the cupboard to take out a bag of cookies I was aching for. It was sealed. I, like any normal person, grabbed onto each side of the bag and pulled to open it. The part that separates me from mere mortals is that my arms generate super strength that explode bags and sprinkle cookies all over the living room. I have never seen a firework filled with cookies but I’m pretty sure that the closest thing to it I’ll ever see. I was planning on going to bed, but that was the thing that did it. I JUST WANT A COOKIE! In anger, I found the closest cookie to me and smooshed it with my foot. THERE! TAKE THAT! I immediately realised that I had crushed a cookie with my foot and started laughing... Scrunch it all to hell, I’m going for a beer with the roommates.

I love how analytic methods, if used properly, can convey emotion.

On my second beer, I unconsciously decided that I would rather have it on the floor than in my belly. Those rakes I was using as arms and flailing about as I expressed myself about how defective and dysfunctional my day had been, caught my glass and the sweet golden liquid it was containing fell to a pavmenty death. THAT’S IT! Crummiest, most dissatisfactory, junkiest, substandard day that I can ever remember having.

Although looking back on it, it was a fine day in the grand scheme of things... I think what made it crappy was that the little things got to me.

Lessons reminded: Don’t sweat the small stuff. And it’s all small stuff. Also, never underestimate Murphy's Law. Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

Oh, and to be clear... I had a cookie off the floor. It was inevitable.

Thanks for reading,

Joey Jo Jo

X'Zams

Writing from beautiful… Where again? OH! Stralia.

That’s right. Thought I was out? SUPLISE! I would like to thank Marine for helping me out with that one!

Now I know what you’re thinking faithful readers... “After a month of hiatus, he just expects us to start reading his blog again. We were invested, checking in every couple days, and he hurt us! He wasn’t there for us when we needed him!” Okay… That might be extreme, but I would like to let you know that the only reason my blog took a backseat for a couple weeks was mainly due to the fact that Queensland University of Technology finds it funny to give all of their exams and assignments at the same time in all their classes. For the last three weeks I have been spending more time at the library and computer lab than I care to mention. Actually, so much so that I’ve been coaxed into sleeping by the dizzying heat produced by a room full of computers…

I felt the sensation coming on last Tuesday when I was studying for my programming exam… “Meh, I came early today and I don’t have any classes… I can sleep for a couple minutes.” *falls to keyboard* Now, an important fact I did not know myself at this time is that computers are a hot commodity at QUT. There are not many lying around and there are always people walking around ready to pounce on the next available station. So, I was awakened by a student tapping me on the shoulder, asking me if I was done with my computer… Bouncing up and acting like if nothing had just happened, I politely said that in fact, no… I was not done with the computer… “How to feel like an ass 101!” When he turned around, disappointed, and left, I found this written on the end of my word document: “dsakfljerkgndgnf;l”. I’m not quite sure what to make of it, but I either have a big dyslexic head that likes to type when I sleep or the student that wanted my computer is evil and wanted to screw with my document. I personally think it was the latter, but I guess we’ll never know. The kicker to this story is that when I turned up to my programming class the next day, I was geared up for a midterm exam, I was reading to drop some knowledge (watch your feet) and the teacher walked in and said: “Alright guys, before we start today I just want to remind you that we have our midterm exam next week. Make sure you’re ready for that.”

*FACEPALM*

Thankfully, this did not happen in any other classes. Lesson learned: I know that I’m almost done my schooling forever but it might be time to start using an agenda… Then again, I’ve been saying that for years…

Since I’m still in exams and I’ve got many assignments to hand in the next week, I’m keeping this post relatively short compared to previous ones. To give you an idea of what interesting things I’ve been up to in the last couple weeks though, here’s a nice, convenient list. If you would like me to elaborate on either one of these in oh… let’s say a future blog post, leave me a comment and I’ll write about the most popular ones.

- Brisbane Races – The city’s biggest hippodrome race event of the year
- Brisbane River Fire – A yearly firework show with a military jet display
- My first and most likely last rugby league game attendance(the local team got eliminated)
- The international students’ golf tournament (Thanks Cecilie!)
- A whole range of exciting days studying at the library
Etc.

Thank you all genuinely for your continued readership!
Joey Jo Jo

The Roof, the Roof, the Roof Is On Fire...

Writing to you from my new German friend’s house; his name is Haus.  Haus Tralia.

Didn’t think I could pull one more off did you?  Don’t worry... I’m surprising myself too.  This one is dedicated to the Montreal crew that have to live with this on a daily basis when I’m home.  Also, a mention to the Australian roommates who find it funny now, but will eventually see the light, I’m sure.

I consider myself to be somewhat ingenious.  To which extent? Well, that really depends on the situation but, enough to get by with the title of ingenious. To illustrate, I once made a rake out a soda can and a small stick!  It worked for the task I needed accomplished and I’m not going to lie... I was pretty impressed with myself.  You can therefore see how I would enjoy taking on the persona of a real life MacGyver.  I set off on a MacGyver quest last night when I decided I wanted to put steamed cauliflower in a dish I was cooking and realized that we did not have a steamer.  I puttered around the kitchen, trying to come up with a concoction that would get the job done.  After a bit of creative thinking, I came up with the idea of putting our metal strainer on top of a pot of boiling water using the pot lid as a cover on the strainer.  I figured it would probably take more time to steam since the holes on the side of the strainer were still uncovered but the job would be done in a reasonable amount of time.  

When my meat was almost done cooking, I checked on the cauliflower only to find it was still pretty hard.  My timing was going to be all off!  No golden spoon for me.  Oh well...  Thankfully, I live with an engineer (Renn), so I had some brains backing up (or so I thought).  When he walked in, he asked what I was doing and came up with the brilliant idea of wrapping the strainer with paper towel as to block the holes on the strainer.  “Won’t that catch on fire?” I inquired.  “Nah! Nah!  It should be fine.” Renn replied.  My internal engineer told me this was probably a bad idea but the real engineer standing beside me actually was educated and qualified in the matter.  “Go back to your little office inside the brain building and do some more studying internal engineer.  You really blew it on this one.” I thought.  Absolutely delighted about our invention, we celebrated with high fives and pictures!  I kid you not.  Proof:

To my surprise, the next 10 minutes of steaming went great.  When I opened the lid, the cauliflower was softening and I was on my way to serving a great meal.  Renn went back onto the porch and I stood in the doorway, conversing and keeping an eye on the kitchen.  While listening in on a heated (foreshadowing) conversation, a thought came to my head: “Hmmm... Something smells like burning.  I wonder what that could.... OH MY GOD! IT SMELLS LIKE BURNING!”  I didn’t skip a beat.  I left my post at the doorway while the other carried on with the conversation without really clueing in on my quick exit.  Our friend the paper towel decided it was dressing itself up with fire for a night out and let me tell you, it looked HOT!  Flames engulfing my makeshift steamer, I had time to rip the paper towel off.  The only problem is that after having done this brilliant move, I had a FLAMING PAPER TOWEL in my hand and had not thought ahead to what my next step would be.  Looking back on it, I should have thrown it in the sink and opened the water but, in the heat of the moment (literally), I decided that throwing the towel to the floor and jumping on it was the best and most gracious course of action.

So there I was, yelling like a camel getting hot flashes: “OOUhh!  AAHHHH!  FIREE!!!!” hopping on and off the fiery towel like a gorilla, when my roommates finally saw me through the window and I heard someone yell out: “Why are you dancing?” These Australians must think we Canadians have some strange cultural dances to think I was actually dancing...  In any case, my jumping extinguished the flames and no real damage was done.  Renn, being the engineer, went straight for design model 2.0.  Suffice to say I was a bit reticent to jump right back into it, but I was informed that testing is an inevitable part of a new design.  I then realized that he had never told me what kind of engineering he was studying...  Be wary!  We modified the design a little bit and it did perform up to our standards this time... Maybe I should get into engineering, it now sounds a lot more exciting than I had first envisioned. I’m also going to have to find a way to replicate burning paper towel in a steamer because it gave my cauliflower a fiery taste that was absolutely delicious.

Lesson learned: If someone tells you they are an engineer, DO NOT give them the benefit of doubt.  You are just as much an engineer as they are in most situations... Haha

Australianly yours,

Joël

Beat Up, Yet Up Beat

Writing to you from my Host-Tralia,

I know... The puns are getting pretty bad... I’m running out!

This week was my fourth week in Brisbane.  I’ve been gone a month, people! 

I’m at the point where my roommates are comfortable blaming everything on the fact that I’m Canadian.  I’m at a point where I can understand expressions like: “Macca’s (McDonalds)” and avro (afternoon).  I can’t believe it’s already been a whole month! Since my arrival, my mentality has been:”Take advantage of EVERY opportunity, you’re not here for long!”  As much as that is true, I think that taking advantage of EVERY opportunity is catching up with me...  I am here for pretty long...  Last Saturday night, let’s just say I stayed in.  Why?  Let’s paint a portrait.   

To start off, I got up last Monday and took care of my regular morning duties entrusted to me by Morning Joël, when I noticed, starting into the mirror that my eyes were freakishly red.  Instantly, they started to hurt... Talk about body and mind harmony!  Hmmm... Double you, Tea, Eff Mate! After some light Wikipedia reading, I was pretty sure I had Conjunctivitis, more commonly known as Pink Eye.  I’m still puzzled as to how, when and where it came about... I’m just hoping it wasn’t because someone farted in my face while I slept, which is the only other way I’ve ever heard of someone getting Pink Eye... My main suspect though, was Evening Joël and his doings!

Next off, on Wednesday my roommates and I started off on a first round of light cleaning in the apartment as we were preparing for an apartment evaluation the coming week (the landlord gets a company to come check the apartment every now and then).  Now, it’s important to note that I’m allergic to dust, usually forget about it and never take any precautions when cleaning.  I usually feel like my nose and sinuses are inhabited by a giant, very well inflated, liquid leaking balloon for the next couple days after a dusty encounter.  This was the case here.

To add, I was determined that on Thursday night I shan’t miss the organized international students’ event, no matter how I was feeling.  It just so turns out that that event was a pub crawl... And that I had classes on Friday...  I knew it was going to be a though day on Friday, but I didn’t want to miss this.  Morning Joël could deal with it.  Evening Joël was IN!  When all was said and done at around 3 am, I let Evening Joël make a stupid nevertheless chivalrous decision.  I offered to walk a friend home without previous knowledge of where they resided (incredibly far, in case you’re wondering).  “DAMN YOU EVENING JOËL!  You didn’t get home till 6 AM!  How am I supposed to concentrate in class? (Class at 9am by the way)  Your decision making privileges are revoked for a WEEK!  Go to your part of the brain and think about what you’ve done!”  Suffice to say I participated as much as I could in my classes to make my environment dynamic enough to keep me awake...  Hopefully, that got me some participation marks!

Finally, I still had bruised knees from surfing the week before (and wipping out like an amateur) and my feet were blistered and scabbed up because on the weekend I had walked a lengthy... Length... In shoes that should not be used to walk lengthy lengths... (NEVER AGAIN)  So, when the propositions for a fun filled night came a knocking, I politely responded that a Red eyed, stuffy, blistered foot and battered knee Canadian stays home on Saturday nights as to be rested for his wood cutting duties on Sundays.  The only noteworthy response I got to that comment was: “Mmmm... I wonder how battered knees would taste”.  Touché! 

Only today am I feeling back to normal (Tuesday).  I think it’s time to slow things down...  Plus my wallet feels thinner when I sit on it for some reason...  Strange.

Lesson learned: Keep your evening self in check.  He or she is most likely one of the most selfish people you’ll ever meet.  NOTHING BUT TROUBLE I TELL YOU!

Australianly yours,

Joël xo

The Beer Pong Tournament

Writing to you from “Bris-Batman Villain”,

Kudos to those who got the reference. 1 point for you.

This last week has been pretty busy. With the start of classes and all that involves, I’ve been running around quite a bit.

While talking to one of the people working for the international student services on the way back from the island trip, I was told that after this trip there weren’t a lot of activities lined up specifically for international students and that in previous years people ended up losing touch. Walking home that very same day, I thought to myself: “You mean to say my exchange is basically over?! I just got here! There’s no way I’m letting THAT happen.” A few minutes later I had come up with a few ideas of activities I could organize myself to add glue to the relationships founded that weekend; the first of which being a beer pong tournament at my apartment. For those of you not familiar with beer pong, it’s a game where two teams of two take turns throwing a ping pong ball at a group of cups filled with beer in the aim of making the other team drink those cups. For more extensive rules and details, refer to this link (Link). In any case, after having run it by the new roommates, I had a green light to throw this ambitious event. It’s important to note that none of my roommates were going to be at the apartment for the actual event. After having discovered this tidbit of information, I realised my roommates were either one of two things: 1. Trusting. Letting a quasi-stranger host a huge party in your house while you’re gone. 2. Absolutely bonkers. Letting a quasi-stranger host a huge party in your house while you’re gone. Either way, this event was ON.

I used my jovial used car salesman skills as well as my facebook whore status to get the news out about this thing and hopefully have enough players to fill 16 teams (so 32 people minimum). After two days of this, I already had my 16 teams and people were asking if they could come anyways. Hmmm... Sure. A day before the event I had 63 RSVP confirmations on the facebook event. Usually, that means 1/3 of those people would actually show up. I somehow got the feeling that in this particular case that ment that 1/3 of the people showing up had actually RSVP’ed... This was getting big.

We live 20 meters away from the City’s main stadium. There was a game on that night. There was going to be a lot of noise on the street anyways so hopefully, the police would not be an issue. I had all the material I needed to get this event off the ground without a hitch (basically 24 plastic cups... ). I opted to lock off the first level where all of our rooms were and only use the basement. This later turned out to be the best idea I had had.

The night of the party – 8 pm: I had planned to start the tournament at 8, but had told everyone to be there at 7 to accommodate for people pulling the old fashionably late... Unfortunately, there weren’t even 20 people here yet so there was no way we could start. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be a flop.

9:30 pm – Yes! 32 people! I have my tournament! I had asked everyone to write their name down on a piece of paper and put it in a sailor’s hat that was lying around. I picked the teams from there but by the time I had finished picking the teams and they had been written down, a group of people had arrived who also wanted to play. I added onto the teams, making them bigger. For the most part, these were first time players, so it was a way for them to meet new people in the context of a just-for-fun tournament.

10 pm – The first games were underway. People kept piling onto the teams till I had 16 teams of 4 people (64 people for our slow readers) and even then I had people requesting to be put on a team because they weren’t. “Next time, sacrifice being fashionable”, I basically told them. They of course did not understand what I was talking about so I had to explain further. Everything was going off beautifully! I was initiating the world to beer pong!

10:15 pm – I was gearing up to start my first game when Thomas, one of my German buddies, runs up to me in a panic and starts yelling at me in German. Understandably confused, I requested English. “Some guy has opened his head on the concrete in the backyard. There’s blood everywhere!” Well, isn’t that just great. The roommates and I were just discussing how we wanted to paint the driveway red. I rushed outside accompanied by quick thinking, first aid trained Claire. We surveyed the situation. She took care of our friend (who’s wound was not as bad as first imagined by yours truly) and we mutually decided that an ambulance wasn’t needed but that we should bring him to the hospital by cab. Thankfully, I had already made some friends in my short stay here on which I could count and leave in charge (You know who you are and I thank you once again. Silje, Kat, Maxim and Sam, you guys are the best). I went to the nearest hospital with this guy and Claire to make sure it was nothing serious. The tournament went on without me.

12:30 pm – About (Not ABOOT LAUREN!) 2:30 hours later, we were back at the apartment and everything was peachy once again; a few broken bottles, but nothing major. Thank god I had locked upstairs. I still had not played one round of beer pong! My team was unfortunately out of the tournament... CRUEL NIGHT! It was clear in my head that I was playing as soon as the tournament was over. I kept socializing in the meantime.

Get in the cab, fool.  I'm missing my party.

2 am – The finals rolled around. I was excited; partly because I knew the finalists, but more because I was going to get to play soon... In the end, the winners were all first time players: Ruby, Sven, Tucker and Ditte. Congratulations and more importantly, pass the game on!

2:30am – I got three other experienced players together (2 Americans and 1 German) and we had a clash of titans! Beautiful, the stress of the night just melted away.

You can't play THIS at a hospital! Yet...

3-4 am – People started packing up and leaving. The most frequent comment I got from people resembled:”Hey Joël, you know that movie American Pie? This is the first time I’ve been to a party like that!!!” I could now go to bed with a smile!

6 am - All problems had been taken care of, and the night had passed! The last people were leaving. I was on top of the world. “Can’t wait for the next one”, they said. “I can!” I replied. One of my roommates walked in from work: “Holy cow! Look at this mess! Joël, you’re cleaning that up tomorrow right?” CAN’T I ENJOY MY VICTORY FOR ONE SECOND!

All in all, it was a memorable night. I tested my organisational skills once again, and they passed. I easily cleared the “85-90 persons in my house at one time” level. I filled up 3 of these bad boys with beer bottles (Link). The only thing that really stung about throwing this party is that Queensland, the state Brisbane is in, doesn’t refund you for bottles. (Pat, Tom, I could easily have beaten our record... By double if not more...) A single tear rode down to the bottom of my cheek when I realised this. Now, I need to recover.

Lesson learned: Before buying a house, check if the area the house is located in refunds empty bottles. If not, that’s a deal breaker. I don’t care how nice the house is.

Australianly yours,

Joël

Straddie Island

Writing to you from a small room, in a big apartment, on a big street, in a big city!

The past three days have been unbelievable.  Being the prepared and motivated person that I am, I had absolutely no idea of where I was actually going and only learned how to correctly say the name of the island we were on 3 hours before leaving it.  This trip was the culmination of orientation week for the international students and a way for us to meet the people we had not yet met and strengthen relationships with people we had met that week.  On the menu, 3 days of activities including surfing, kayaking, a nature walk, a beach party and a night at a local bar.

Day 1 (Friday) – We left the campus on buses at around 9 am.  While waiting for the buses to show up, I taught some Germans how to play haki sack and not to brag or anything, they picked it up pretty quickly, when they dropped it that is.  I met a girl from Taiwan on the bus and she ended up DJ’ing my ipod for a good part of the trip!  (Ruby... I swear I don’t know how Backstreet Boys got on my ipod!) We ended up on a ferry and that’s when I figured we were probably going to an island... The fact that there was a big sign saying “Ferry to Stradbroke Island” had absolutely nothing to do with it.  When we got to the resort,  I was paired up with 4 guys, we got the largest suite in the resort and this was the view from my room...

I knew I was in for a treat of a weekend.  That night, everyone still strangers to each other, I decided to organize a small ice breaker activity for my German haki buddies, as well as my weekend roommates!  We got some plastic cups and set ourselves up a game of Flipcup.  2 teams, 4 cups - Race time.  Germany on one side of the table, Canada, US and France on the other; the tension was incredible.  Since our team only had 3 members, I bit the bullet and did the first and last leg.  Beads of sweat inching themselves ever so closer to the bottom of our foreheads as we waited for the race to start, we realized we had not designated anyone to start the race... The American said “Go!”  A clash of titans occurred.  All I can say about the results is that Germany ultimately found themselves repeating the performance their country had put on at the world cup.  For those of you that didn’t follow the world cup, Spain won.  Only one team wins the world cup.  I hope that’s clear enough.  Germany was promised a rematch at some point in the next 5 months.  The beach party that ensued was LEGEN... Wait for it... DARY! (Thanks Barney). Fire twirling, swimming and random Australians were all of part of this crazy camp fire.

Day 2 (Saturday) – Today, I got to ride tall blue watery things with a long paddle shaped thingy.  I think they said it was surfing...  It felt strange to paddle 20 meters out into the ocean, only to have to come back standing on this paddle thingy or have the instructors yell at me for going too far.  Plus, whenever I did come back, I always ended up wiping out and swallowing a ton of salt water.  To top that off, they made me wear a ridiculously tight suit to do it all.  I’m not entirely sure because I was underwater, but I think the instructors were laughing every time I fell too!  If I knew I was going to be ridiculed all morning I would have slept in!  But to be serious, I loved it!  So much so that I decided to go back with a friend in the afternoon during our free time and try it again!  I had fallen in love.  Sitting on a board 20 meters out with locals waiting for waves to come, you realize that the people living on this island have one of the most relaxed lifestyles on earth.  They live on an Island!  If you ever have an opportunity to surf, do it!

After this day of hard work, we headed off to the local bar to socialize a bit.  We quickly found out that the bar closed at midnight, and we had shown up at 10.  I thought since we had been given the biggest room in the resort, that it was our duty to host the after party!  My roommates were not of the same opinion (at the time the idea arose)...  After two hours of convincing, they were onboard.  The only problem was that we hadn’t told anyone that we were hosting... Everyone was walking back down to the hotel to sleep...  We scattered and scrambled to tell everyone:”PARTY IN ROOM 31!”  I ran back to the room (about 2 km away) yelling at people I passed “PARTY IN ROOM 31!” When I got there, Nico, one of my roommates, had already set up the bar (Yes, we had a bar...). Hopefully, people would show up.  Did they ever.  Snoop Dogg can take his “Party at the Holiday Inn” and keep it.  This was much better.

Day 3 (Sunday) – Suffice to say this day was very quiet on most fronts... I’ll let you guess why.  My group got a guided walk of the island with some breathtaking sight, such as this one:

We hoped on a bus back to Brisbane, no longer as international students studying at QUT, but QUT students come from everywhere in the world... I know, I know... Corny.

Lesson learned: If a weekend at a resort can’t bring people together, nothing will.  Ever.

Australianly yours,

Joël

(Dis)Orientation week

Writing to you for the capital of skin cancer, beautiful Australia!

Yep, it’s true.  I found out a couple days ago. Australia is also the continent with the most animals and plants that can kill you.  Lovely.  I’ve signed up to live in a death trap!  Nobody even warned me about the fact I should bring my scooter along (Link) as to evade all these hazards.  I’m not even kidding!  It seems everyone has a scooter here except me!  I saw a horizontally gifted man riding one in a suit downtown today!  The worst part is I’m not even making this up!  Brisbane is crazy for scooters!  This is probably where our old fads (Canada) come to die... I’ll keep on the lookout for Pokémon cards, yo-yo’s, crazy bones and magic cards and report any findings.  Thankfully, none of the international students I met during orientation week had scooters.  That would have been too much.

 We got to kick off our arrival in Brisbane with the mandatory speeches restating everything that had been sent to us by e-mail. I’m never reading another e-mail ever again.  Unless it’s from one of you fine readers out there that is...  Thank god I met some Scotts or that day would have been a write off!  Woot! Scotland!  I wish I had that accent!

The next day we ended up partying on a boat because QUT wanted to remind us that we were fresh off the boat, as to put us back in our place!  No but in all seriousness, the boat cruise was a riot!  After having spoken to a few people, I realized that Norway was the biggest delegation by far.  When the limbo contest started up, I told myself there was Norway I was letting their delegation win this thing!  Sadly, I lost when there were 3 people left and a Norwegian ended up taking the crown.  I will defend our honor in the long run, promise.

Today, we were greeted with open arms by the New Farms Bowls Club. We were going to rock the turf; shoeless.  Yes, they’ve added a need twist to a game we all love, or never heard of depending on the case, barefoot lawn bowling. Basically, you throw a small ball about 15 meters away.  You proceed to throw big balls at that small ball.  Whoever gets the closest gets a point.  Plus, YOU'RE NOT WEARING ANY SHOES!

I’m not going to lie, I got into it.  I was ready to make T-shirts and start a team after half an hour.  As for the rest of my team, they were not so keen.  I took a breather to get over this fact when the Fin on my team asked me if I had ever been to his hometown, Helsinki.  I told him: “No... But I have been to helfloaty!”.  Suffice to say he was not amused...  Nor was the rest of my team. I guess they just need more time to get me...

Lesson learned: Don’t joke with Fins.  They will think you’re flirting with them.

Tomorrow, I’m off on a 3 day orientation camp where I will tempt my hand at surfing; and most likely my feet; and the rest of my body too.

Tata for now,

Australianly yours,

Joël

P.S. They had this really cool idea here.  You know how some people walk into the screen door some times and break it (Not me, I never do that)?  Well, every house in this fine city has a metal grill (visible) on the screen door.  It keeps its functionality, adds a new one, and also gives the screen door a bit of personality.  Think about it!  I smell a North American business opportunity!

P.P.S. Photos in the next post, I swear!

Travelling to the Brisbane Ghetto

G’day mates!

As most of you know, I practiced speed skating at a high level for a couple years and the sport and what it has taught me, whether I choose to acknowledge it or not, will stay with me till I exuberantly take my final breath, I’m sure. I did not skate last year and was planning on taking it up again this year. It just so coincides that I’m in Australia... Now, I know what you’re thinking and I have to admit it was also a serious concern of mine. I was told that there were ice rinks in Brisbane and a speed skating club so that was good enough for me to pack my equipment and bring it overseas with me! It’s important to note that once here, I found out there were two skating rinks in the whole city! So with this information in mind, I give you: my trip to the rink!

It all started with a phone call last week. I found a number on one of the rink’s websites and talked to a vibrant woman on the other end who did not hesitate to give me the information I needed. I was all set: I was going to get to meet everyone at a barbecue that same week! Great! I was to meet up with the club at the glorious Iceworld Rink in Acacia Ridge! “Seems easy enough! Iceworld! Wow! This place must be huge!”, I pondered. The only downside to this trip was that there was no actual skating session because of a figure skating competition. Those girls always ruin everything with their skin tight... colourful... shape revealing... suits... Oh sorry... Were getting off topic here...

Anyways, a couple hours before going I looked at the transit system map and it was supposed to take me around 45 minutes to get there. This was more than reasonable to practice a sport I love in what had to be one of the biggest ice rinks on the planet I’m sure! With a name like that, there must be 6-7 ice sheets in that place! I got my stuff together and was headed for acacia ridge! On my way out, my roommates Lauren and Katie asked what I was up to. “I’m off to Acacia Ridge for a barbecue”, I said. This comment prompted Katie: “Why is your barbecue in the ghetto?”. ... Let me tell you that had already made up my mind on how this night was going to go, and how everything was going to look along the way! So I most definitely went through the 7 stages of grief when Katie killed my vision of things...

Shock & Denial – After those comments, I didn’t have much time to discuss it, I was going to be late! Walking towards the bus stop, I told myself: “Pfff... There’s no way Ghetto means the same thing here as it does in Canada. We’re way more hardcore over there, no doubt! What? Am I going to stumble across Kangaroos with bandanas... Please. I take your fact based reality, Katie, and substitute it with my fictional one!”

Pain & Guilt – This started to set in when I was waiting at the cultural centre for my second and final bus. As I looked at the time table to find the pickup time, I noticed that this bus only passed by this stop every hour... I instantly clued in that I wasn’t going to the most popular part of town... As I sat on the bus, the district names were becoming weirder and longer... Woolloongabba, Coorparoo, Moorooka... Oh, Katie, you were right!!

Anger & Bargaining - WHERE AM I GOING?! I passed the industrial part of town, what looked like an abandoned airport, open fields... Where is Acacia Ridge? Why am I even going to this?! I contemplate offering everything I have in my pocket to the bus driver for him to bring me back to town. A transfer ticket, a house key, 7.34$ in change and a pen... That will not cut it. I guess i’m commited. Hopefully I can get home after this... It’s already dark out! (It’s dark by 5:30!).

Despression & Loneliness – I asked the bus driver to tell me when we were near the rink. I resigned to my fate. As I get off the bus, I realize that this is in fact a ghetto in comparison to Brisbane... The houses have no driveways; everyone is parked on the grass. Some of the houses are falling apart and in serious need of a paint job. I’m here! Wherever that is... I mope to the nearest gas station to ask for directions while practicing how to write blood with my fingers, just in case I need it (Link). “Ice world is about 1km that way!” There is hope!

The Upward Turn – I can see the iceworld sign! It’s a neon one! I could most likely win the gold medal for speed walking at this point.

Reconstruction – As I come up on the arena, I realize I’ve been fooled by the dark powers of marketing... Iceworld... This isn’t even Ice Continent, nor could it pass as Ice Country. At best, I would give it a grade of Ice City. My bearings getting back to me, I realize why I was coming to skate in the first place! Not for the glory, but simply to reconcile with the sport.

Acceptance & Hope – As I approached the rink, where the barbecue was happening, I saw a bunch of kids running around laughing, parents socializing... They gave me the warmest of welcomes' once I got there and even fed me... These people are too nice! I can’t wait to be on the ice with these guys Thursday! THIS is what sport is about. Things are looking up!

BONUS – A couple and their daughter offer me a ride back home. I LOVE YOU!

Super duper BONUS – Their daughter, Monique, talks to me about Australian politics on the way home. She’s 12. Impressive.

Until next time, I’m Australianly yours and greatly appreciate your messages.

Joël

P.S. Shout out to the QUT Student Sharehouse for picking up my blog! It is greatly appreciated. http://studentblog.qut.edu.au/