Greetings from King’s Cross in Sydney - on this, my final weekend in Australia!

I realize that a lot of time has passed since my last update, and even more in the way of events and experiences. The deadline of my visa expiration has been fast approaching, and for some reason putting off this update seemed to make my time here last longer. I’m going to concentrate more on general Australia in this last submission, rather than just my adventures – which would take too long anyway, and could only be best portrayed in a book. Hint, hint. :)

For myself, I will say simply that my time since New Zealand has been a treasure. The journey back to Channel Country was indeed exciting, and included being stranded in Longreach, stuck in Jundah, and then finally being given a ride on a giant Council truck that could cut through rivers, all thanks to flood waters. When I did arrive in Windorah, what a joy! What a joy to see Trudy again, the kids, the tiny one-horse town that brought me so much in the way of Outback
experience, not to mention the red dirt and million mile blue skies. Originally we had planned to stay in Windorah just a few days, go to the Tanbar Christmas party, and then move to Broken Hill…again, enter rain and floodwaters. Remember, this is back in early December, before the monster rains and devastating floods in the Brisbane area were even a concern. We attempted to make it to the Tanbar Christmas party - about 4 utes piled high with kids and party goers braved rivers that were flooded almost up to our windows. One ute gave out and had to be pushed from behind…at any rate, about half way there it was apparent that the waters were just too high for us to continue, so we came back – and took the party to the pub, as you do. I was very sad to not see Tanbar again, and Danielle, Nikki…but there it is. Seeing as all the roads in and out of Windorah were now closed, we passed the days with waking up at 6:00 to go sand dune jogging (NOT an easy thing!) or do some Billy Banks videos at the visitor’s center, YES! After hiking 8 hours a day with 45 liters strapped to me, I could not afford to get out of shape. The days were spent merrily and busily, tending to horses, kids, exercising, and getting ready for the Christmas Tree ceremony, where I was honored to be Mrs. Claus. Truly a treat, I will never forget it as long as I live. Jabba (Santa Claus) and I rocked up to the ceremony with cries of “HO HO HO” and “MERRY CHRISTMAS!” on board a four wheeler, ringing cowbells. We were supposed to be “Outback Santa and Mrs. Claus” so our outfits were not what you would call traditional, but neither is celebrating Christmas in the sweltering heat! It was a great time.


Just as floodwaters were starting to subside and we were planning to leave, the rain struck again. After discussing it seriously, Trudy and I decided to go ahead and get out as fast as we could – if we didn’t we might be stuck there months…which turned out to be true, the roads just opened again recently. We furiously packed up the car and trailer with all the belongings we could fit, and away we went, soaked to the bone from packing in the rain, sadly waiving to Tony and Bec as we pulled away. I knew this would probably be the last time I would ever see good ‘ole Windorah.

After what was probably the most pleasant road trip I’ve ever had, especially considering three
adults and three children were crammed into one car for 36 hours, we arrived in Broken Hill.
Broken Hill is a mining town, and at 7:00 am and pm every day in Trudy’s house you will hear a subtle “boom” and feel a slight shudder as the mines are blown and the next shift starts. It is famous for silver, and opals. The hill of Broken Hill is an enormous displacement of dirt from the mines, tall enough that it almost resembles a mountain, and is about five miles long, dividing the city into North and South. After having been in towns like Windorah, Jundah, and Longreach, I’m used to the Outback realities of no mobile phone service, little if any internet service, and almost nothing in the way of shopping…so when we rocked into Broken Hill, complete with it’s own Wooly’s (grocery store) McDonald’s (called Macca’s here) and even a tiny old movie theater, it was like being in a huge bustling metropolis! Mind you, their population is only 20,000. As you enter the city, a large sign overhead reads “Welcome to Broken Hill, the beginning of the Outback!” It is also home to world-famed artist Pro Hart, whose gallery was legendary to behold.

Our first order of business was to reopen Rob and Trudy’s old house, give it a good cleaning, and move everything in. This took a few days, especially getting the yard under control, but we got it done just in time for Christmas day, which we held outside. The Aussie Christmas is usually centered around a barbie (BBQ), seafood, grog (drink) and Cricket. We had all. Amazing food, delighted kids opening presents, plenty of drink and Cricket in the backyard. A word on Cricket. Have any of you ever played? Coming from a baseball background the whole run back and forth to the pitcher and home base thing is very confusing, as is the fact that you have outfielders behind you. I will admit that I totally prefer a flat Cricket bat because you can smash the daylights out of the ball; but this is almost a trick because the more energetic and enthusiastic you are, the more likely you are to bump into one of the wickets behind you, knock them over, and thus be called out. It’s funny to watch Cricket – their batters have a sort of strained way of hitting the ball; they have to be incredibly strong to blast it – but in a tiny area with little movement…reminds me of the line from Aladdin, PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWERS!!!!...itty bitty living space.

I hit the ground running looking for a job, and got one almost immediately at a pub when we both realized that my RSA certificate (Responsible Service of Alcohol) was from Victoria and did not transfer to New South Wales. There was to be no RSA course held in Broken Hill until February. So, I did what anyone would do, who needs a job, when none are available…I applied at Macca’s. And do you know, that for all my preaching against McDonald’s, for all the stigma that comes with working there in the states…I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT! Now, I wasn’t flipping death burgers - I was in the McCafe, as they call it, which is basically a coffee shop…whipping up cappuccinos, mochas, and pastries (yes, some were gluten free, thank you Dustin.) Macca’s here is like a family restaurant and coffee shop all in one. We have regulars who come in every day. My coworkers were absolutely GORGEOUS ladies who were a pleasure to work with. In fact it wasn’t until I told people back home that I was working at Macca’s that I was reminded of its stereotype…and of the stark difference between American and Australian culture. Here, there is no stigma related to working at Macca’s, just like there is no stigma about being a mine worker, lawyer, plumber, doctor…if you are a good sheila or bloke and you work hard and you are providing for yourself and your family, well then good on’ya! And that’s all that matters. Everyone is respected, and everyone is respectful. Truly refreshing, I’m going to miss it. I will also miss the incredible wages and benefits jobs here have – I was making almost as much money working at Macca’s as I was at my full time job when I left the states. Yes, really. And with six weeks vacation a year…Australia really takes care of its citizens.

I loved working at Macca’s, chatting to everyone who came in for their morning cup of Joe, getting to know them all and their smiles, their jokes, their stories. One day I got the treat of a lifetime. A nice woman came in and ordered two cappuccinos for take away…there was something familiar about her…and as I handed back her change, she started to ask me if we had met before – and then it DAWNED ON ME, hit me like a lightning bolt. One year ago she and her friend Heather had been visiting her daughter in Austin, and as any hip Outback birds would do, they were hanging out at the Broken Spoke, where I met them. That was just a few days before I left for this trip, and I ended up spending most of the night laughing with them and just hanging out. We exchanged contact info, but of course, I lost it…AND NOW HERE WAS KATHY STANDING OPPOSITE ME AT THE COUNTER! Neither of us could believe it. They were so fabulous to me for the remainder of my stay in Broken Hill, and I miss them already. To give you an idea of how cool these two sheilas are, Kathy’s daughter and her friend in Austin were responsible for bringing Mr. John Stuart’s Restore Sanity Tour to Austin. Can’t wait to see Kath and Heather when they come for a visit in November.

I had a gorgeous send off at the train station in Broken Hill…Kath and Heather, Trudy and the kids, and Charlene (coworker) and her lovely family came to wave me off. There were tears. Especially for Trudy, who I am going to miss more than I can say. She is like the tough sister I never had, but am so thankful that I found. I’m trying to get her to Texas as soon as possible.

Ah, Australia. The term now means so much more than a country to me, it’s a lifestyle, an attitude, a way of thinking. This was never more apparent than with the recent natural disasters they’ve experienced. I’m not sure how much coverage you guys were getting in the states, but the floods were biblical style, absolutely devastating, and absolutely unexpected. In Windorah, flooding is normal because it is so dry and flat that rain waters from the north run down through the Outback looking for the ocean, creating many rivers and creeks, hence the name Channel Country. But this year was absolutely insane for rainfall in Australia. When Brisbane was getting inundated with rain, it rained in Broken Hill – thousands of kilometers away – more in one day than they usually get in one year. The news was heartbreaking to watch. Horses swimming in the middle of water that you could see no end to even from the helicopter that was filming it. Horses and cows huddled together on rooftops, some of which were barely visible. There was even a shot of frogs hitching rides on a snake's back. Suncorp stadium in Brisbane, where their footy team plays, was flooded all the way up to the first row of seats. The equivalent would be if Town Lake flooded so much that DKR Memorial Stadium went under. Absolutely unheard of. The worst was footage of people that provoked more questions than provided answers…one man stuck in the middle of an intersection clinging to a light pole with his back against rapidly rising flash flood waters, up to his shoulders…did he make it? People hugging each other on their roofs, looking around as the waters are cornering them even onto their chimney. I could go on; I won’t. The point is that once flood waters subsided, on the news, every flooded home the news team went to, every person they encountered who had lost everything, without fail would say “But I’m all right mate, check on the neighbors across the street, they're worse off.” That spirit of self sufficiency and the desire to drop everything if need be to help a mate. It’s the infrequent but perhaps more needed combination of inherent toughness with a kind, compassionate heart. Helen and Charles, the lovely people I stayed with in Brisbane, had flood waters come right up to their drive way – they live nowhere near water. But she described it as almost a party atmosphere, their whole neighborhood working together to relocate furniture for people whose homes would obviously go under, or who weren’t there to do it themselves. The innate awareness that life is so much more than what we have or what we surround ourselves with.

I’m going to miss the Aussies tremendously. It’s so interesting to be sitting here in Sydney, on the exact same weekend I flew into this city one year ago. Walking around today, I recalled the way I felt seeing these sights and sounds just a year ago…and how much I’ve changed. Now more than ever I’m infused with the belief of what I’ve always known, always felt in previous travels, but can carry with complete conviction: wherever you go, whatever corner of this great planet to squeeze yourself into, whether the bustling streets of upper class London or the smelly slums of poverty-stricken areas of Mumbai…we are all the same. People have so much more in common than differences that set them apart; in fact, if anything I’ve realized that these differences are just illusions. Scary thing is that if you believe an illusion, just like if you can believe a lie, it will be real for you. After all that I’ve seen, families from all over the world here who have allowed me at their table and shared their stories with me…I have a tremendous respect for all human life. We all help create each other, and the best way we can help ourselves and our own families is to be forgiving and compassionate to others. I am so thankful for this trip and for the lessons and experiences it gave me.

There is another huge blessing that came out of this trip: the fact that I was able to share it with all of you. If anything, my genuine hope is that this blog, my stories, my shared experiences will help you see that you’re never too late, you’re never too old, there is nothing stopping you, there is no book of rules somewhere that is the end all be all of what you can or can’t do – or be. It’s all up to you. Our life is such a blessing. We all have unlimited potential – and whether your dream is to travel the world or clean a hospital at night, both are equally noble if they bring you happiness. I believe our number one duty in life is to be happy; because when we are truly happy we are living from our true spirit, and only then can we shine out goodness and love to everyone we meet, and be a positive light for our friends, family, community, country, planet. It has been a supreme honor sharing all of this with you…I hope it has inspired you to believe in yourself. Ha, in fact I’m quite humbled that you guys read this at all, some of them are LLLLLLLONG, I know! ;)

I fly out on Monday. I am so sad to be leaving Australia, though I may be coming back…but I am overjoyed to be seeing friends and family. Simply cannot wait. And, my precious Annabelle and Ellie are waiting for me at home in this cold, cold weather. :)

Goodbye Australia, thanks for everything...and hello, my darling, beloved Texas. It's been a while.

Much love to you all, see you soon!