New Year's Eve in Phuket!

After a 1o hour layover in Brisbane (six of which I slept not-so-soundly on a fake leather couch) and a slight visa glitch that involved me having to buy a non-refundable ticket to Singapore, I have arrived just in time to celebrate New Year's Eve in Phuket. Without my luggage. And since it is New Year's Eve, there appears to be very few staff at the airport. And of the staff that is here, very few speak English, and those that do, do not speak very much. Or very well. And my Thai is worse.

After a two-hour goose chase, I am finally directed back to the same desk I started out at to fill out a form for my lost luggage. With the same woman who started me on the two-hour goose chase. (If this were a novel, this would be called foreshadowing and in the next few weeks to come I will become very familiar with a phrase called "T.I.T," short for "This Is Thailand.")

But this is not a novel, this is a journal, and though I don't have my luggage and I stink to high heaven, everything is grand. Because I have filled out my lost luggage form, it is New Year's Eve and I am in Thailand. It is hot here and everyone is sweaty so the fact that I have showered in 36 hours does not make me stand out. Plus I always pack at least one change of clothing in my carry on. And did I mention I'm in Thailand, on New Year's Eve? ROCK ON!!!

Sharing a ride into town with a Kiwi girl I will get to know very well over the next month, our taxi weaves its around jungle, run-down slums and modern looking city scapes as our driver practices his broken English with us. I walk down to a pool with a couple of girls I meet at the school I will be attending in a few days time, and a Thai family feeds us some chicken from their barbecue.

And the sun sets on 2010, the skies fill with little dots of light as thousands of paper lanterns take flight all over the island.

Happy New Year Thailand! Thank you for ringing in a magical 2011. I cannot imagine being anywhere else right now.

Going to the Zoo, Zoo, Zoo (then Phuket via Brisbane via Sydney)

The warm weather has finally come and yesterday Mauzi, Jack, Isobel and I headed down to St. Kilda to enjoy the sun. I am still not feeling 100% and yesterday was still wearing my jacket long after everyone else had stripped down to short sleeves and tank tops. And, despite having no appetite, managed to feast on sushi and edamame to the point of bursting, then still had room for gelato after taking in some sunshine and an ocean breeze.

And now today is my last day in Melbourne before leaving for Thailand.

Jack and I took Isobel to the zoo with Steve and Helena and the twins before heading to the airport.

It is even warmer today than yesterday and everyone is having trouble eating their ice cream in a timely fashion.

Now if that doesn't say summertime, I don't know what does.

As always, visits to Melbourne end too quickly. And now I have a plane to catch in an hour to Sydney where in another two hours I have a plane to catch to Brisbane where I have a ten-hour layover before my flight to Phuket. I am already exhuasting writing about it and my journey hasn't even started yet.

Christmas All Over Again!

Gramma Roth, your Christmas package came today! Isobel loves the children's songs cd with the cards. She's singing along with 'Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree' here:

And the Sing-A-Ma-Jigs are a big hit too...

...especially with Dad.

(I think he may like playing with them even more than Isobel!)

Isobel's Big Day Out

So after sleeping from six o'clock last night until about nine o'clock this morning I am feeling a little better than yesterday. Still congested, still blowing ectoplasmic neon green snot out my nose every few minutes, but the sore throat and fever are gone, I have an appetite and I am not too terribly exhausted. Mauzi already has to go back to work, so Jack and I are taking Isobel into the city for the day.

Taking the tram into the city:

Posing for some photos at the NGV on Federation Square:

Checking out a modern art exhibition at the Ian Potter Centre:

Getting a bit tired and throwing a little tantrum at the Centre For the Moving Image:

Perhaps it's time for a nap:

Dad and Auntie Erin are a bit tired as well... time for some espresso:

Hey there sleepyhead, ready to see a little more of the city?:


Looking cool as a cucumber riding the elevator in the Curtin House to visit the rooftop and Metropolis bookstore:

Heading back home after a long and eventful day in the city:

Ecto-plasmic Snot

This trip to Melbourne seems to be all about indulgences. I have been stuffed by the graciousness of my brother and sister-in-law, their family, or their friends nearly every night since I've been here. Chinese dumplings, Indian take-out, Thai, pate picnics, chicken parm and chips, Christmas dinner, cider, cider, more cider, hor dourves and tapas galore, and now a full-on Aussie barbecue.

We spent last night at the home of Jack and Mauz's good friends Steve and Helena and their twins Sam and Max who are only a few days younger than Isobel. While the young ones stripped down and laughed themselves silly running around butt-naked, the adults ate themselves silly and drank themselves even sillier.

And now Jack, Mauzi and I all seem to have contracted the neon green snot-producing virus Isobel brought home from crèche last week. I woke up in the middle of the night, unable to breathe choking on my own snot with a fever and feeling like crap.

I think we are all a little exhausted from last nights' festivities and today's illness, but cheers Steve and Helena -- you put on one heck of a barbecue!

Wandering

Melbourne is full of great little streets and alleyways to wander down, which in turn, are full of wonderful graffiti. These are some of my favorite finds from this trip:

Merry Christmas and Thanks for the Skipping Rope!

So Christmas morning has come, and along with this awesome balance bike and few other cool things, Santa brought Isobel her most coveted gift, a skipping rope (surprise, surprise).

I don't know why none of us thought to take pictures or video, because honestly, it was precious. She ripped through the wrapping paper and held it up triumphantly. "A skipping rope!" she proclaimed. Just as I had hoped, she did not even notice it was a crappy little dollar store skipping rope of inferior quality.

Jack: "Isobel, do you know how to use a skipping rope?"

Isobel: "Yes."

Jack: "Show me what you do with a skipping rope."

She grabbed both handles of the rope, held them tightly straight out in front of her and started jump up and down saying "Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!" while still holding the rope tightly in front of her. No skipping, no swinging a rope. Just jumping with a rope in hand. I guess in her mind, a skipping rope is just a rope you hold on to while jumping. Extremely cute.

Our plans for a Christmas day barbecue on the beach have been foiled by the weather. It is still extremely cold and I have bought another sweater because I have been circling through the same two sweaters and two pairs of jeans since I've been here. I've even been wearing tights under my pants. I don't think anyone expected it to be such a cold Christmas.

So instead of Christmas on the beach, we having a very merry little celebration at my sister-in-law's parent's house where Grandpa Seamus taught Isobel how to properly use a skipping rope (much to our disappoint, it was much cuter the other way) and a very special guest came to visit right when Uncle Cahil disappeared:

(photo credit to Jack)

Merry Christmas to all my friends and family back home!

Milk and Cookies for Santa

It is Christmas Eve, and Isobel is busy writing a Christmas list for Santa:

Jack: "Isobel, what do you want ask Santa to bring you for Christmas?"

Isobel: "Ummm, a skipping rope!"

Isobel has been insisting she is going to get a skipping rope for Christmas ever since I arrived in Melbourne. And Auntie Erin has been scouring the city for a skipping rope. After a week of searching I have found two crappy dollar store jump ropes, the first really crappy and the second only a slightly less crappy. I don't know where the good quality jump ropes are hidden around, but I am thankful my niece is only three and would probably be with an old piece of rope with knots tied in the ends.

We will find out tomorrow morning. In the meantime, it is time for Isobel to go to bed and the adults to eat cookies and drink milk.

Abbotsford Convent

My camera batteries are dead and I seem to have lost my charger on my road trip, so for the time being I am taking some photos with my video camera. And it seems I have forgotten to both charge the camera and to grab an extra battery before we headed out to Abbotsford Convent today.







Some photos I managed to get before the battery went dead.

"Summertime" Picnic

So it is officially summertime here in Melbourne, although you'd never know it from the weather. It is darn right chilly. But weather be damned, we're having ourselves a lovely little picnic on the grounds of the Heide Museum.

Look at this wonderful spread:

Terrine, pâte, mixed olives, french bread, french cheese, brown mustard, pears... best picnic fare ever. The company's not too bad either.

Get 'Em Started While They're Young

My brother borrowed my camera this morning to take pictures of Isobel swimming.

At age three she is already doing a rudimentary dog paddle that looks, as Jack puts it, "more like a baby elephant swimming than a dog paddle."

Still, when I taught swimming lessons, I had some nine-year-olds who hadn't mastered even a baby elephant paddle after three years of instruction, so I think she's doing great.

Although she seems to have inherited the same 'floating' gene that I possess that makes it almost impossible to stay underwater for very long without weights.

Early Morning Wake-Up Call

I woke up this morning to find my niece standing in front of the desk at the foot of my bed taking self-portraits with my camera.

She's a cheeky little thing.

My How They Grow

Kids grow so much in 10 months. This is the niece I remember from my last visit:

I could hear her running down the hallway saying, "Where's Auntie Darrin? Where's Auntie Darrin?" And when she opened the front door and found me on the other side, there was a good deal of squealing and giggling accompanying that great big precious smile. (Wouldn't it be nice if everyone was that excited to see you?)

And now ten short months later...

... my how you've grown! My goodness, those legs and those arms and that hair! She's stretched out a bit, lost some of her baby face and I am now Auntie Erin. But guess what -- the squeals and the giggles and those big broad grins are still there and I love this little girl more than I ever could have imagined.

Violent Femmes, Midnight Oil and Spider Bites

About forty-five minutes outside of Melbourne, we stopped to drop one of our fellow traveler's off at a railway station. Located next to a park, I took the opportunity to hop out of the van and stretch and take in some fresh air. Apparently, I also took in a spider. Napping the rest of the way to Melbourne, I was unaware I was repeatedly getting bitten and when I woke up, I found I had a searing pain radiating from my face.

At first, I thought it was a mosquito bite. I am mildly allergic to mosquitos and have to build up an immunity to each different species every season, and react worse to some than others. 'Man, these Australian mosquitos pack a nasty punch,' I thought. But closer inspection revealed two fang marks on each bite. Spider.

Two bites on my cheek, one on my ear, one on the webbing between my thumb and my index finger and one on my shin. They burn, they itch, they are generating a ton of heat, they are rock hard and now they are weeping. Oh, not to mention they are unsightly. Last time I was in Melbourne, I got a burn on my neck I swear a ghost gave me in the middle of the night that was shaped like two lips and looked suspiciously like a hickey (honestly, it was a burn -- hickeys don't scab!). Now it looks like a vampire had his way with my face. What is it with this town and embarrassing conspicuous disfigurement?

And just in time to go see The Break (a surf band fronted by Brian Ritchie of the Violent Femmes and Rob Hirst, Jim Moginie and Martin Rotsey of Midnight Oil) open for the Hoodoo Gurus. I am almost always more excited to see the opening act than the headliner at concerts and this is no exception (sorry Jack). However, I'd be more excited if I didn't have these damned oozing spider bites on my face. Still didn't stop the drunk bald man who stole my jacket from flirting with me. Or my brother and sister-in-law for pushing me toward him. Thanks Jack and Mauz.

To add insult to injury, after the concert, a young gay man was blatantly flirting with my brother. When Jack left to visit the restroom, the young man said to me, "He's really good-looking, like Bon Jovi." Sensing perhaps he thought Jack was my date, I said, "Yeah, he's my brother." To which the young man replied, "Oh that's cool -- you're like John and Joan Cusack." Great. Now I'm Joan Cusack. Everyone knows who the ugly duckling is in that sibling pairing:

Hello Melbourne! Nice to see you again too!

Aw, it's all good. It will be Christmas soon and I am with my family in a wonderful city, tomorrow I will see my niece for the first time in 10 months, and I am probably just a little too vain for my own good anyway.

So cheers to weeping spider bites, my handsome brother, his equally gorgeous wife, my incredibly cute little niece and their very generous hospitality, to old bands making fantastic new music, to old bands playing tired old music but still rocking it and holding on to their dreams, to balding men having a great time dancing without a care and flirting shamelessly with women with oozing facial punctures and to young men making well-meaning observations and flirting shamelessly with handsome older-ish gentlemen. Hello Melbourne, indeed. It's good to be back.

Wilson's Prom

Yesterday I was standing on top of Australia's tallest peak. Today I am looking out at the ocean from Australia's southernmost peninsula, Wilson's Promontory. This has been a whirlwind of road trip!

Leaving Mount Kosciuszko yesterday, we headed south towards Victoria on a old dirt cattle trail that snakes through the Blue Mountains.

It was a gorgeous ride, but the twists and turns pushed the limits of my motion sickness tolerance. We spent the night in Lakes Entrance, and two of my new acquaintances -- delightful young ladies from Liverpool -- and I procured a box of wine from dinner and watched the sunset on the beach as we traded travel stories late into the night. It has always amazed me how quickly fellow travelers bond ...and then leave each others lives as quickly as they came into them.

A bit too much wine drunk and a fitful night's sleep on the squeaky top bunk of a run-down hostel room made for an interesting ride down to Wilson's Prom, but the fresh air and the vistas cleared up any fogginess from the previous night's festivities.

Kangaroos, emu, red-back spiders, an echidna even made an entrance -- a great day of hiking in a very beautiful part of the continent.

And now we are heading to Melbourne and I am very much looking forward to seeing my family.

For Only At Top Can We See What We've Done

Happy Birthday Big Brother!

In your honor, I climbed Australia's tallest mountain.

Half way up Mount Kosciuszko, Ivan, Hugo and I walked straight into a cloud.

With very few and brief exceptions, it never left us.

Here we are at the summit. There was a bitter, biting wind we had to brace ourselves against just to keep our balance. I can still hear our clothing flapping madly around our bodies.

At the very top, getting pummeled by the wind. Isn't it a grand view?

It is actually. I am on the top of Australia right now. It is cold. It is windy. It is foggy. And it is fantastic.

Happy Birthday Jack! See you tomorrow.