A couple of weeks ago I mentioned an interview at a resort near Brisbane where I was attempting to get a waiter gig. After waiting for a week or so (and thinking that I wasn't going to get the job), the resort came through in the end. And so, I'm moving to Moreton Island on Monday to start the new job. I'm sincerely hoping that it goes well as the resort is more or less the only show on the island. It's not as though I'll have tons of other work options. But there are lots of cool things to do on Moreton: snorkelling, ocean kayaking, ATV-riding, feeding wild dolphins, and -- most enigmatically -- sand tobogganing. That last one will be a blast.
I don't expect to have frequent access to the Internet on the island, unless I somehow luck out and get a roommate with a laptop and a wireless connection. There are Internet kiosks at the resort but they charge something like $2 for 10 minutes. As if. So, if you don't hear from me for awhile you'll know why.
To the dolphins I go. . . .
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Memories
June 27 is special for me.
It's a day I've been thinking about for years. And because I came to Oz this year, it's now twice as significant.
For one: today marks four months that I've been in Australia, having arrived on Feb. 27. It's amazing how quickly the time passes. I think most travellers can relate to the way your conception of time changes when you're away from home. In some ways, it's all one, big blur that has come and gone in a flash. In other ways, I feel it has been years since I last saw my family and friends in Canada. And since I ate poutine. (I just had to throw that in.)
For two: I graduated from high school on June 27, 1997 -- exactly 10 years ago today.
I can remember the day so clearly. It was only partly sunny. Not the perfect weather one would hope for on such a day, but at least it wasn't raining. I remember so many small details: the ceremony of going to pick up the rental car (a brand-new, hot-red Pontiac Sunfire coupe) from the dealer; the extra time I took showering, shaving, and getting dressed; driving to my best friend Kim's house to pick her up, as well as a couple of other friends; the way we drove down Albert Street and then around the block a couple of extra times before parking the rental car at the hotel.
Later on after the dinner and ceremony, we boarded yellow school buses and set off for the after-grad party at a local nightclub (it was terribly exciting for a bunch of underage kids to be partying in a nightclub, although we weren't allowed to drink alcohol. It was an event organized by the school, after all). We danced, we ate, we talked until dawn. A big group of us went for breakfast at an all-night diner. Everyone was in a terrific mood, despite the lack of sleep.
And then we went our separate ways, not knowing exactly what the future would bring or what we would make of our lives.
Some of us have moved to far-flung parts of the world. Some of us still live in Regina, Saskatchewan. Some of us went to university. Some of us didn't. Some of us are married with children. Some of us are single. One of us is sitting in a public library in Brisbane, Australia, typing a new entry for his blog (a word that didn't even exist on June 27, 1997).
Did I think this was what I would be doing 10 years from graduation day? Of course not. Although I had always dreamed of travel and had been to Europe my first time just a few months before grad, I had no ambition to live in Australia back then.
I think what strikes me most today is that I don't fundamentally feel any different than I did when I was 18. Sure, I'm a bit wiser to the world. I've gained confidence and life experience. I can be proud of several achievements while I try not to think about the failures.
Otherwise, I'm still that same kid who loves to have a laugh with friends; who loves food from all corners of the Earth; who sometimes takes life too seriously; who is more shy than he would like to be.
Just one question remains: where will I be on June 27, 2017?
A picture of my friend Tana Cameron and I on graduation day, June 27, 1997. Thanks for sending this to me recently as a surprise, Tana!
It's a day I've been thinking about for years. And because I came to Oz this year, it's now twice as significant.
For one: today marks four months that I've been in Australia, having arrived on Feb. 27. It's amazing how quickly the time passes. I think most travellers can relate to the way your conception of time changes when you're away from home. In some ways, it's all one, big blur that has come and gone in a flash. In other ways, I feel it has been years since I last saw my family and friends in Canada. And since I ate poutine. (I just had to throw that in.)
For two: I graduated from high school on June 27, 1997 -- exactly 10 years ago today.
I can remember the day so clearly. It was only partly sunny. Not the perfect weather one would hope for on such a day, but at least it wasn't raining. I remember so many small details: the ceremony of going to pick up the rental car (a brand-new, hot-red Pontiac Sunfire coupe) from the dealer; the extra time I took showering, shaving, and getting dressed; driving to my best friend Kim's house to pick her up, as well as a couple of other friends; the way we drove down Albert Street and then around the block a couple of extra times before parking the rental car at the hotel.
Later on after the dinner and ceremony, we boarded yellow school buses and set off for the after-grad party at a local nightclub (it was terribly exciting for a bunch of underage kids to be partying in a nightclub, although we weren't allowed to drink alcohol. It was an event organized by the school, after all). We danced, we ate, we talked until dawn. A big group of us went for breakfast at an all-night diner. Everyone was in a terrific mood, despite the lack of sleep.
And then we went our separate ways, not knowing exactly what the future would bring or what we would make of our lives.
Some of us have moved to far-flung parts of the world. Some of us still live in Regina, Saskatchewan. Some of us went to university. Some of us didn't. Some of us are married with children. Some of us are single. One of us is sitting in a public library in Brisbane, Australia, typing a new entry for his blog (a word that didn't even exist on June 27, 1997).
Did I think this was what I would be doing 10 years from graduation day? Of course not. Although I had always dreamed of travel and had been to Europe my first time just a few months before grad, I had no ambition to live in Australia back then.
I think what strikes me most today is that I don't fundamentally feel any different than I did when I was 18. Sure, I'm a bit wiser to the world. I've gained confidence and life experience. I can be proud of several achievements while I try not to think about the failures.
Otherwise, I'm still that same kid who loves to have a laugh with friends; who loves food from all corners of the Earth; who sometimes takes life too seriously; who is more shy than he would like to be.
Just one question remains: where will I be on June 27, 2017?
A picture of my friend Tana Cameron and I on graduation day, June 27, 1997. Thanks for sending this to me recently as a surprise, Tana!
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Still kickin'
I figure it is time to let all of you know that I am indeed alive and well on the other side of the world (or the same side of the world, depending on where you're sitting).
I have neither abandoned my dedication to the blog or forgotten to do updates. Basically, I have no good reason for the lack of posts, except I've been working an awful lot at all sorts of hours and any day of the week, I've no access to a computer at home, and usually have insufficient energy to get all creative.
But that will change soon. Tomorrow I have an interview at a place called Tangalooma Wild Dolphin Resort on Moreton Island, not far from Brisbane. Sounds exciting, doesn't it? If I get the job it is full-time, and I move to the island. So, I'm kind of hoping the interview goes well.
Coming soon: posts on Aussie-isms (I'm making a mental list) and the quirks and quarks of Queensland.
By the way, this picture -- from when Matt and I were camping in the absolute middle of nowhere one night and had little but hot dogs and bread to eat -- has nothing to do with what I'm writing about in this post. I just thought it had been far too long since I posted anything visual on the site.
Toodles.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Old man winter
It is 7 p.m. on the first day of winter in Australia.
And I am wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
The patio door to the balcony is wide open and other guests at the hostel are outside eating their dinner on picnic tables. This, my fellow Canadians, is simply not fair, is it?
At least it's almost summer in the northern hemisphere. That ought to be some consolation.
It's been good fun listening to certain Aussies chatter about the "cold" lately. Last week a girl I worked with told me she has been just freezing at night and always wears two jumpers (sweaters) at home. I told her I've still been sleeping with just a bedsheet and the window partly open.
Even funnier, the other day a radio announcer expressed concern when he saw a young woman walking down the street in the early morning with long, wet hair. She was sure to catch a terrible cold, he said. It was +15 degrees outside.
Everything, including what constitutes hot and cold weather, is truly relative.
Why the Aussies even bother with following traditional European seasons is a bit of a mystery to me. There are really only two seasons Down Under as far as I can tell: warm and hot. You'll notice that seasons don't start and end on the same day as they do in North America. The first day of autumn was on March 1. Winter (as mentioned) started today. I can only guess that spring will come on Sept. 1 and summer on Dec. 1. I haven't yet figured out why this is.
* * *
I've happily finished a string of five shifts at the Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre today. It's not the worst place I've ever worked, but it's surely the most humongous. The centre's entire floor area is equal to the size of 462 full-sized tennis courts, according to its website.
This week's massive convention was the Australian Tourism Exchange, where tourism industry professionals from around the country and overseas descended on Brisbane to explore all manners of tourist activities in Oz. On Monday we did a cocktail party for 2,300 guests. On Tuesday and Wednesday we did sit-down lunches for 1,500-1,700 people. Yesterday and today we did buffet lunches for 1,200-1,400. If you think setting 170 tables of 10 with silverware, plates, glassware, wine and soft drinks is a good time, think again.
The sheer size of events at the convention centre makes it an impersonal, factory-like place to work (this despite the centre's motto: "Making Events Personal"). You are issued a uniform when you sign-in for work (amazing they don't also issue you a computer chip for tracking your identity and location). After you've changed, you are corralled into gigantic service elevators and taken up to the function rooms when work is to begin. You are "briefed" on the day's function and a roll-call is taken. Supervisors are called "captains" and they frequently shout out orders for the remainder of the shift. The best (only?) course of action is to submit obediently to their wishes and prepare to roll with the punches. It is the closest I've come to being in the military yet.
Perhaps that isn't a fair thing to say. The people in charge at the convention centre are actually quite nice, given the circumstances. Still, I simply cannot imagine working at these sort of massive functions for the rest of my life. It just isn't for me.
* * *
News bulletin: I am soon to see real live koalas, kangaroos and platypuses. Brisbane's Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary is not too far from where I'm staying and it does seem worth a visit. I had hoped to see some cuddly critters in the wild (this is why I avoided going to Sydney's zoos). But the koala sanctuary is wilderness-like and lets you see all sorts of animals in one place. Plus, I simply can't wait any longer! Will take plenty of pics, to be sure.
And I am wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
The patio door to the balcony is wide open and other guests at the hostel are outside eating their dinner on picnic tables. This, my fellow Canadians, is simply not fair, is it?
At least it's almost summer in the northern hemisphere. That ought to be some consolation.
It's been good fun listening to certain Aussies chatter about the "cold" lately. Last week a girl I worked with told me she has been just freezing at night and always wears two jumpers (sweaters) at home. I told her I've still been sleeping with just a bedsheet and the window partly open.
Even funnier, the other day a radio announcer expressed concern when he saw a young woman walking down the street in the early morning with long, wet hair. She was sure to catch a terrible cold, he said. It was +15 degrees outside.
Everything, including what constitutes hot and cold weather, is truly relative.
Why the Aussies even bother with following traditional European seasons is a bit of a mystery to me. There are really only two seasons Down Under as far as I can tell: warm and hot. You'll notice that seasons don't start and end on the same day as they do in North America. The first day of autumn was on March 1. Winter (as mentioned) started today. I can only guess that spring will come on Sept. 1 and summer on Dec. 1. I haven't yet figured out why this is.
* * *
I've happily finished a string of five shifts at the Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre today. It's not the worst place I've ever worked, but it's surely the most humongous. The centre's entire floor area is equal to the size of 462 full-sized tennis courts, according to its website.
This week's massive convention was the Australian Tourism Exchange, where tourism industry professionals from around the country and overseas descended on Brisbane to explore all manners of tourist activities in Oz. On Monday we did a cocktail party for 2,300 guests. On Tuesday and Wednesday we did sit-down lunches for 1,500-1,700 people. Yesterday and today we did buffet lunches for 1,200-1,400. If you think setting 170 tables of 10 with silverware, plates, glassware, wine and soft drinks is a good time, think again.
The sheer size of events at the convention centre makes it an impersonal, factory-like place to work (this despite the centre's motto: "Making Events Personal"). You are issued a uniform when you sign-in for work (amazing they don't also issue you a computer chip for tracking your identity and location). After you've changed, you are corralled into gigantic service elevators and taken up to the function rooms when work is to begin. You are "briefed" on the day's function and a roll-call is taken. Supervisors are called "captains" and they frequently shout out orders for the remainder of the shift. The best (only?) course of action is to submit obediently to their wishes and prepare to roll with the punches. It is the closest I've come to being in the military yet.
Perhaps that isn't a fair thing to say. The people in charge at the convention centre are actually quite nice, given the circumstances. Still, I simply cannot imagine working at these sort of massive functions for the rest of my life. It just isn't for me.
* * *
News bulletin: I am soon to see real live koalas, kangaroos and platypuses. Brisbane's Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary is not too far from where I'm staying and it does seem worth a visit. I had hoped to see some cuddly critters in the wild (this is why I avoided going to Sydney's zoos). But the koala sanctuary is wilderness-like and lets you see all sorts of animals in one place. Plus, I simply can't wait any longer! Will take plenty of pics, to be sure.
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