It is with suburned fingers and cracked hands that I write this latest update.

HELLO FROM TANBAR STATION!

So, as anticipated, the roads didn’t open up on the Monday that I was to report to work, so their chopper pilot flew me in. It was a gorgeous ride, seeing all the flood waters straining through the channels and geese and cows fleeing us in every direction. The choppers they use are extremely small and lightweight, to enable them to get down close to the cattle and maneuver them with flexibility. Truly it seemed like some sort of battery powered helicopter you see in the consoles at the mall with some sales rep operating it with a remote control…anyhow, this also meant that it wasn’t big enough to hold me, my small bag, and my swag (more on that later) so my left leg was literally hanging out the side of the helicopter…but don’t worry, I was all strapped in! That thing has no doors. It was coooooold.

So that first paragraph was written about 2.5 weeks ago and I immediately fell asleep at my computer after writing it. These days are looooooooooong, and hard….and freakin fantastic. We start anywhere from 5:00 to 6:30 am, depending on what we have to do that day. If we have to draft and muster cattle, then we’ll start at 5 or 5:30 am. My first few days here were spent “at camp”, meaning we were camping out at an outstation called Gillpippie to draft the cattle, and then walk them from there to the loading yards to be trucked off, and just stay with the herd overnight on our way. People, what a way to be introduced to this life. I have to say up front that this ain’t no City Slickers movie; it’s not like a signed up for some tourist package for foreigners to have an “Outback experience” or anything…nope, I am a proper full time employee at Tanbar, jillaroo or ringer or whatever you want to call me. I’m expected to pull my own weight and jump right in, which is what I did. The first morning the chopper dropped me at Gillpippie I briefly met the rest of the gang and then got to work. Drafting means we run the cattle through these chutes into a round pen where they are quickly judged by the head stocksman or other qualified dude to decide where the cattle should go…market, the “bush” (out to pasture to either fatten up or be forgotten about) or somewhere else. Drafting also means you have to herd them, ON FOOT (do we even do that in Texas, are we that crazy????), from one pen to another to get them to the chutes. So here I am, being from Texas and all, wanting to prove myself my first day…we get on the ground in this giant holding pen and are supposed to push these angry wild bullocks into a tiny gate. (I say wild bc these guys grew up in the bush, thousands and thousands of acres of land, and instances like drafting are often the first time they’ve even seen humans.) I just look around and do what the other guys are doing – there is absolutely no training, just a general “yeah ask questions if you have any”…and let me tell you something, YOU try to understand this Aussie Outback mumbling lingo in the heat of the moment! Sheesh. Anyhoo so I’m “oi oi!!”ing at the bullocks and one came for me. It had been raining, as we have already established, and my boot got effin bogged – stuck – in about 2 feet of mud. I thought I was going to die for about 1.5 seconds because as I struggled to yank my foot free I just flat fell over. One of the ringers, Rohan, ran over, scared the bull away, and helped me up all in that time. That’s what I get for trying to be the cool kid in the first few minutes.

Next morning we’re up before dawn and saddling horses getting ready to drive the cattle to the loading yards, about 100K away. Man oh man did it feel good to have a saddle and get on that horse the first day. So good that I didn’t worry about my stirrups being so long that I could hardly keep hold of them for the first few days…to go from not riding regularly in YEARS to jumping on for 8 hours a day with no stirrups and just using your leg muscles…well yeah it’s definitely whipped my butt into shape. They had no other saddle for me so I just had to deal with it. (I have a different saddle now, what a world of difference!) Words can’t really describe what I experienced in the next two days…1,500 head of cattle, about 100 kilometers (and at least a million dollars, by the way). Me stuffing up CONSTANTLY. I mean, I’ve never done this before, so I should have known that I wouldn’t be perfect or anything…but BLOODY HELL I kept messing things up! There are certain tactics to working a herd, you know kind of like people – the whole psychology of the masses thing – that just didn’t click for me in those first few days. But everyone was super cool and nice, and would give me pointers. Rohan was a huge help and happily taught me while simultaneously taking the piss out of me….well, they all took the piss out of me, but that’s allright. A word on Rohan (pronounced Rowen) he is Mr. Sunshine. Once the herd is going, he’ll ride up and down the line belting out songs, anything from Metallica to Paint Your Wagon Tunes, Slim Dusty and Tenacious D. He will also use the end of his bull whip to conduct fake talk radio shows or history triva quizzes. He’s a gem.

After the first day I was…stunned, happy, excited, exhausted, nervous. We camped with the herd that night, sleeping in our swags….a swag is kind of like a sleeping bag, except GIANT and more like a tent/sleeping bag combo. You don’t need a tent if you have a swag, you just roll it out and then zip yourself right up in it, it keeps bugs, snakes, rain, etc. out. So yes that first night I slept under the incredible stars of the Australian Outback. As we watched the sunset and paint absolutely gorgeous colors across the clouds, I asked the rest of the gang if they were just used to that beauty by now or if it still stirred them. I think my notice made them appreciate it for a split second…but yeah they’re just used to it. I was so stirred up by it that I couldn’t sleep, not until well after the thousands and thousands of untouched stars made their appearance for the night. One thing: Peter, the manager, made sure to tell us that when we needed to go to the bathroom to be sure to go “That way”, meaning away from the herd…because if someone were to accidentally scare the herd in the middle of the night whilst having a wee, as they say…and they should stampede…well, yeah. You can imagine. So you know, lil ole me just sleeping meters away from slightly deranged cattle who could possibly stampede…ain’t no thing but a chicken wing….or a giant bull hoof on the head. No worries mate.

The next day was…ridiculous. We were originally going to take a couple of days to walk the cattle all of the way back, but due to a coming storm we walked them ALL THE WAY BACK. 1,500 head of cattle, have I mentioned that yet? What’s worse is that for a lot of the time we didn’t have a fence to follow…if you can push them up against a fence to walk them and then everyone else on the other side to keep them moving and push them back in, well that’s not so bad. But no fence, just mobs of cows and a limited number of ringers on either side to control them…I swear it felt like madness, just because of that and then the mud and the creeks we had to cross and me not knowing what the HELL I was doing…sheesh. I remember one instant when I had just finished galloping off to chase some lone bullocks back to the herd only to send the rest of the herd in the wrong direction, whilst crashing through a creek, when Rohan looked up at me from the other side and screamed “Hey Nancy, you gonna have a drink tonight?!” HELL YEAH I had a drink that night. I needed a few of them after that day!

So, I’ll move on to station life now. That day we arrived back at Tanbar, 2 days earlier than expected, and I was sunburned on the bottom half of my face (my hat protected the top half) and REALLY sunburned on my neck. By now I have a proper farmers tan, super brown hands/forearms, a V on my chest from my workshirts, and my face. The rest of me is as white as the snow I always dream of seeing some Austin Christmas morning, but never quite happens. Back at the station we met at the Rec club for 5:00 drinks. Everything is very strict at a station, whether you’re actually home or at camp. Breaky is, as I said, anywhere from 5:00 am to 6:30 am. Then you have Smokco (I think once upon a time it stood for Smoking Company) at 9:00, then Dinner (lunch) at 12:00, another Smoko at 3:00, Rec club at 5:00, and Tea (dinner) at 6:30. All are absolutely required, and as I learned my first day, when they say a certain time, they really mean 15 minutes earlier. Yep. I think I have at long last been broken of my tardiness habit (I can hear my dad cheering all the way from Texas).

At this point, bc my eyes are starting to droop but I just can’t put off this update any longer, I’m just going to give you general tidbits. I live with the cook in a gorgeous lil house. The guys have their own quarters…then there’s Carl our headstockman and his lovely fiancé Nikki who have a lil house. Nikki is a treasure – one of the best people I’ve ever met, down to earth, fun, tough, hard workin – and seriously looks like a blonde Angelina Jolie, no exaggeration. As I said fellas, she’s taken. They are all great to work with. There are huge tanks here that catch the rain water, and that’s what we drink – the purest thing on the earth, as we are in the middle of nowhere and terms such as “acid rain” have no meaning. We’ve been lucky enough to have the past two weekends off, and we’ve all headed into Windorah to my good ole pub for drinks and general muck running. Last Saturday was my birthday, and I have to say it was one of the best ever...though apologies go out to mom and dad and the grandparents, who called me at the pub (and it was gosh darn great to talk to them) but all the ringers were screaming nonsense into the phone…eh, I think they enjoyed it. :)

Today we walked cattle about 30 K from one yard to another…they were another station, Kerongaloo’s cattle who somehow got mixed up with ours, so we were up early this morning to draft them and walk them to the loading yards…and guess what? It rained. Like, REALLY rained. We were soaking wet. Everyone else was cranky and not liking it, but I reckon it was a bloody awesome adventure. I definitely had a Braveheart moment, “But this is good Scottish weather madam, the rain is falling straight down! Well, slightly to the side-like…” An American girl having a Scottish moment in Australia. Yeah, I don’t get it either, but it was bloody awesome! By the time we were done Nikki and I were so delirious and giggling nonsense that the guys were absolutely disgruntled and wanted nothing to do with us. Whatever cranky pants. :) When we got home I took off my boots and poured at least a cup of water out of each one. At least we got it all done in one day.

On days that we have no cattle work, we’ll do stuff with the horses if we’re lucky…or, I’ve mowed a lot of yards, done a lot of weeding, feeding the pigs/chooks (chickens), sweeping sheds, OH! The biggest thing yet! So, the other day I went with Rohan and Carl to shoot a cow. I helped skin it. Then I helped take out all the cuts, and even the heart, tongue, kidneys, and pancreas, or sweetbread, as they call it. Yes, I tried them all as well. This ex vegan/vegetarian has certainly…well, come a long way, or at least down a different path. There are so many emotions and reasonings going through my mind in both directions with all of this that I will not even delve into it here; don’t want to bore you with my truth musings. It’s definitely a different world I’m living in right now.

Allright then, that’s all folks. I hope this has all made sense, I’m half asleep already. There is nothing like what I’m experiencing. These people are crazy, but hard working, and completely self sufficient…and just tough. Rough and tough, I should say. I don’t begin to cut it, but I’m certainly trying. And thankful for every minute of it.

Love you and miss you all so much.

Nancy

Hello again, folks.

I have been meaning to write an update for a long time, but work duties and the general inconsistency of the internet around here rendered it a waste of time until now. My apologies to anyone waiting on an email from me – the internet has not been working, and the visitor internet is the absolute most painful thing to deal with…slow torture in the form of seeing an email from your parents, for example, but every time you click on it…five minutes later…the words “cannot display page” laugh at you. Ah, the Outback!

And in truth, it is GLORIOUS! I’ve come a long, long way since that last update. Bar, kitchen, hotel rooms…you name it I’m like a hospitality ninja, can whip out a chicken schnitzel burger at the snap of a finger, can pour you a drink in one hand while giving you change with the other. For someone who has a long standing fear of being a waitress, this is a big deal. Sometimes I feel like I was made to work behind a bar, getting paid for chatting to people and making friends, bridging cultures, pour by pour, glass by glass.

One of my favorite things about Windorah are the locals. There’s Mick, who lives next door and we all know exactly how much ice he likes and what kind of glass, and believe me you’ll hear about it if you get it wrong. There’s Brownie, who has the most glorious handlebar mustache I’ve ever seen in my life, who with a twinkle in his eye will tell you about his banjo skills, if you’re lucky. He travels to the U.S. often to play in folk festivals, and one night when I mentioned the yodeling workshop I did in Melbourne, that man opened his mouth and yodeled as if every Swiss maiden in the Alps would come running to his call. Tarpot is a gent in his 80’s or 90’s, I would say, who has lived in the same tiny one room house ever since…ever. At least, that’s how the story goes. We make him dinner at the pub every night and walk it over to his house – which in this small town of 80 people, isn’t far. Most days you can find him sitting on his porch, watching the day go by…I love taking dinner to him and having a quick chat. There is also Caveman, the toothless ringer who blows in to town and after a few drinks dances and sings the way I imagine children do before they are conditioned to harder or sadder things in this world. He’s like pure joy, with missing front teeth, and an energy that will dance and sing for anyone and everyone willing to join…or at least watch. There are countless others…just some of the loveliest people you will ever meet. On a regular day or night, they will pay for a drink and then leave their change, or wallet or purse, at the bar. Everyone will have their own little pile and when you hear a crinkle of a can, you turn around…see that empty can next to it’s own change pile…and you replace it, take the money out, and put back the change. Often if there is a serious dart or pool game going, they just can’t be bothered to actually order the next drink from you, which is fair enough. The best is when someone wants to use their debit card…so many times one person has come up with a card to make a purchase, and when it comes time to enter their pin, they yell across the bar “Oi! Honey what’s our pin number?” and “Honey” always hollers the pin number out…across the bar…for all to hear. This is a far cry from back home where people hide their keypads with nervous fingers and paranoid eyes!

Another one of the locals, Dale, is an absolute treasure and I am so thankful to have her as a friend. She seriously looks like a starlet straight out of 1920’s Hollywood and has the brightest smile and one of the best attitudes of anyone I’ve ever met; she sees the good in everyone, which is something that meshes very well with myself. Not only has she gotten me hooked on Stephen King’s “The Dark Tower” series (the first S. King books I’ve ever read; they’re fantasy, but about a gunslinger – sort of Lord of the Rings meets The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly – BRILLIANT!) but she also takes us pub girls out on our days off to experience Windorah. My first day off we headed to the race track, where the rodeo was held, and played golf. She’s got a set of clubs and someone has dug holes and set up flags and rakes and all that along the course. We’ve gone driving through the sandhills, which are gorgeous, but due to all the rain they’ve had the past year are covered with vegetation, so they aren’t the pure bright red sand hills you see in the post cards from here. We had some extra back packers over the past few weeks (more on that later) and we all went to the sand hills accompanied by their body board, “Bob”. They tried surfing down them, but at a maximum speed of I would say .0000000000000001 mph, I passed on my turn. The drive to the sand hills was interesting; again, due to the rains, the locusts are on the move…we are talking thousands upon thousands of flying grasshoppers, HUGE, I swear they are like flying turkeys. I took a video of it, and am going to attempt to post it soon, but fair warning there are plenty of girls screaming on it so you might want to turn down your volume.

Sheesh the past weeks have been such a blur, I’m trying to think of everything that might be of interest…there are 9 kids in school here, all ages, all lovely. They come over most days after school and I’ll teach them gymnastics or we’ll do yoga poses in the front yard. I reckon Windorah wasn’t quite sure who the heck this Texas chick was teaching all the kids these weird poses in the front yard, but it has really caught on – almost every day they come see if I can quit work to “do yoga” with them. I love it, of course. Being from Texas still seems to excite the people passing through…everyone wants to know why on earth I’m out here, and of course, “is everything really bigger in Texas?” I have to laugh at this…in the bar, there is a great map of Australia, and within in it, a map of Texas. Folks, Texas isn’t even ¼ the size of Australia. I like to tell the inquirers that while we may not be bigger, and may not need helicopters or motor bikes to muster our cattle, the reputation comes from our hearts and generosity (and perhaps sometimes from our big heads, but SHHH!).

Normally my days consist of waking up, either opening the bar, cleaning hotel rooms, or starting in the kitchen…with a break in between…and then walking around town to catch up with Dale or Trudy, or go across to the servo (gas station) run by the blind man Merv, nicest son of gun and completely in charge of that store.

The past two weeks, however, have been a different story. Birdsville, a town not far from here (meaning a couple 100 kilometers) has their annual Birdsville Races, which apparently are quite famous, and people from all over Australia flock there every year. Many of them pass through Windorah, and our big lead up to the Birdsville Races are our very own Yabby Races, held on the Wednesday before. As already mentioned, we imported 6 additional backpackers to help out with the festivities – some truly great people – and boy did we need it. Folks, I have never ever in all my life worked as hard as I did at those Yabby Races. Sure, we worked 8:00 am to 1:30 am that day. Yes, I had a stomach virus the day before with 102 degree fever and threw up so much that I was stuck in a permanent fetal position until I was yanked out of bed to work. None of this matters. What matters is that our tiny, tiny bar, with a maximum capacity of, oh, say 50 – was bombarded by about 800 drunk people crazed with the idea of winning the Yabby Races and simultaneously fearful of being stuck in Windorah and missing the Birdsville Races, thanks to the rain. What do you do when nervous or in doubt? Drink, of course! They did. By the end of the night, I could not feel my fingers anymore, after opening that many beer cans and stubbies. Literally could not feel them. I had slices all over from thrusting my numb hands into gallons of ice searching for a drink for someone. Hey, at least I couldn’t feel the cuts! People screaming at you to go faster from both sides of the bar…people screaming that their Yabby didn’t win…what is a Yabby, you ask? It’s a sort of lobster looking thing, except blue. Pretty neat, huh? Well, I didn’t see one that night…things looked mighty fun outside but we never left that bar. Each Yabby cost about $1200 to race. Teams of people buy the Yabby, then they are all dropped in the center of a large circle drawn in the street in front of the pub. The first Yabby outside the circle wins. I tell you, pure hysteria it was. And it “pissed down” rain, as they say, in the middle of everything.

Now, the rain was a problem. Windorah is located in what they call the Channel Country, referred to as such because when the rivers and lakes flood, the waters form channels all over this area. Floods are common enough that many people cancelled their trip to Birdsville because of the rain, knowing that it might be weeks before they could get out again. Those who continued on were certainly stuck there for at least a week; we had people calling constantly to see which roads were open, if any. For us this meant that many of those people who were just supposed to be passing through ended up staying much longer than they intended…so it was a busy few weeks here, to say the least. Additionally a biker rally group rolled through a week after the Yabby Races, 400 in total…we served dinner buffet style, but I tell you that line stretched on for a mile down the street. I’ve never served food so fast.

There really is so much more to tell, I just have no idea where to start or how to fit it all in…things like the birds that sing all day long, even in the middle of the night…I forget what Dale calls them, but the message is “get to bed, you’re up to late if you can hear me sing!”. Bathing is always exciting…there is usually at least one brown tree frog and one lizard in there with you; sometimes larger green frogs come for the fun, and more lizards. Forget HD TV, it’s like National Geographic, brought right to your…shower. None of the kids wear shoes, except to school. My favorite thing to do on a break is to go in the back yard and have a lie in the grass, though it is getting so hot here that it is becoming almost uncomfortable to do so. Should make my next job interesting.

Speaking of my next job….in one week, I am being picked up and carted off to a local station to be a JILLAROO!!!! In other words, a female ringer; in more words, I will be mustering cattle on horseback and other various duties – really I have no idea, and I don’t care, as long as I’ll be on horseback! Most of you know my history with horses…I can’t believe I am going to be back in the saddle again, I am so elated about it that I am almost nervous, nervous that it’s not really going to happen, nervous that I’ll feel like a foreigner in a saddle after so many years away. But I know that’s not true. It’s where I’m meant to be, really, I’ve just taken the long route back. The station is Tanbar, and they’re known for being really good with their horses.

On Wednesday Trudy and I, and her two girls Abby and little Billy, left at 7:00 in the morning to drive 3.5 hours to Longreach, the closest town with shopping. She helped me pick out jeans, work shirts, a cowboy hat…the hat is a necessity so you don’t burn whilst spending hours under the Australian sun. She’s also lending me a swag, which is like a sleeping bag/tent combo. It’s what I’ll use to sleep in when we’re at camp with the herd. Trudy’s generosity has been absolutely incredible. She is one of the most genuine, fun, sincere, and hilarious people I’ve ever met! And she’s absolutely gorgeous – one brown eye and one blue eye, something I’ve never seen. I love spending time with her and her lovely family – I’m gonna miss being able to see them every day when I’m on the station. I’ll be there until early November, at which time Joey and I are meeting in Wellington, New Zealand, for a series of bushwalks through that beautiful country. Something inside says that that isn’t enough time for me at Tanbar, but – we’ll see how things unfold, and what is meant to be.

For now, I’m going to wrap this up…and end with a few new Aussisms, of course. :)

1. Piss. This is a very important term in the Aussie language, and can really be used for anything… “It’s about to piss down rain”. “Aw she was just taking the piss out of him” (making fun of him) “Are you getting on the piss tonight?” (Are you drinking tonight?)

2. Sweet as, nice as, easy as, etc… “Man these jeans are so cool and they were cheap as!” “Nah mate, I just did it online, easy as…” Basically implying that whatever you are referring to is the sweetest, nicest, cheapest, etc. thing that could possibly be thought of. So much so that it is not necessary to define what said thing is.

3. Fair dinkum. Definitely a country phrase, “fair enough” or “good thing”. Usually a response to someone else’s story or sentence.
4. Righto. My new favorite phrase. I must say this at least 20 times a day. Means “sounds good” or “will do” or “check”. “Hey don’t worry about it I’ll just pick it up later.” “Righto!”

5. Too lovely. Means exactly what it sounds like. A drink well poured? A happy story? A pretty dress? A good mud fight? (As happened here recently.) “Too lovely”.

Until next time, loved ones…ta.

:) Nancy

I’m in the Outback, and I don’t think I ever wanna come back.

There aren’t quite suitable words in the English language to describe what I’ve seen and done so far, but I’ll do my best with a little Aussie slang thrown in.

Last Tuesday I rolled out of Brisbane on The Westerner, a train that runs from Brizzy to Charleville. We left at 7:15 pm and arrived in Charleville the next day at 12:30 pm. Word to the wise: when travelling on an overnight train, best to book a sleeping car. In my enthusiasm to book my ticket I completely blanked on details and accepted an economy car; it wasn’t until they turned the lights out at 10:00 that it dawned on me that this was to be my bed for the night – a regular old bus seat. I’m not too fussed, I’ve slept in worse, however I did not bring a blanket or pillow (except Teddy of course) and their heater was broken. Around 1:00 AM I shivered my way into the service car to ask the crew member for a blanket; he gave me the “I’m sorry I can’t, if I give you one then I have to give everyone a blanket…” but when I asked him for at least some of his newspaper to cover up with through loudly chattering teeth, he took pity on me. I wrapped that thing around me like a cocoon.

Once warmed up I still struggled to get situated, and wrestling with positioning I finally sat up chuckling – the whole situation was quite funny – but when I looked out the window, I literally choked on my laugh. I lost my breath – the sight outside startled it right out of me. Thousands, I mean THOUSANDS of stars were shining in the sky. Some even as big as my pinky finger tip from where I was sitting. I’ve never seen so many stars stuck together in all my life – not in the remotest parts of the states, not in Switzerland, Austria…and they are so close to the horizon! It seems as though right where the ground ends the first star is planted. This is the first time I have ever experienced the feeling and sensation that the earth is actually round, from a flat surface on the ground. It’s like a blanket of crystals draped over a bubble holding you. Am I going on too much? It doesn’t do it justice. I kinda sat in this awed stupor staring for about an hour before falling back asleep.

You would think I would be groggy the next morning, but as soon as I removed my sleeping mask the bright blue of the sky chased that right away. Bright red dirt, the carpet of the Outback, flashed by the train – as well as plenty of green trees, bush, grass. I’m told that this is quite rare – they’ve had an unseasonal amount of rain this year after years of drought, which has made everything lush and green. There were occasional rolling hills, and large vast areas of flatlands. Here and there we would see kangaroos running away from us – sometimes in pairs, sometimes in packs of ten or twelve. Saw a few emus, and one mama with 8 baby emus…also some cows, sheep, and something that looked like a giant wild boar. They are quite popular for hunting around these parts. There were also plenty of streams and large pools of water. One gentleman in the dining car was saying that the north coast gets torrential rains and floods during Christmas time, and then it flows down Australia for the rest of the year towards Southern Australia. So it’s just now reaching Queensland in the middle; should give you an idea of how vast this country is.

We also saw a kid on a bike with his mom waving, in the middle of nowhere; you could see their home in the distance. Perhaps he was on his way to school?

The people on the train were familiar to me. There were some Aussie tourists, but many were from the area and heading home. They were older, weather beaten, wrinkled, and answered questions about the Outback with a slow deep Aussie drawl and a twinkle in their eye. They reminded me so much of my family and heritage on my dad’s side – East Texas farmers who lived off the land and worked hard all their life just to feed their family. I really admire and respect them. In truth so far a lot of the landscape even looks like parts of Texas. So, you could say that part of me feels like I’m coming home.

Once in Charleville, I caught a 2 hour bus to Quilpie, and stayed there for the night. I took a walk around the town (which only took 5 minutes) and then went to the pub to order dinner. A lot of the locals were eyeing me, though they were friendly enough. The pub started getting busy for dinner, and as I was almost done with my meal I offered my table to a family who had just come in – to which they immediately replied “Join us, we’re good folk!” I happily accepted. There was grandma, mom, dad, uncle, two older sons graduated who work for the hospital (still not sure where said hospital is) and their little 3 year old brother, Marcus. They were so nice – bought me wine, asked me about Texas, gave me their contact info and told me to call if I needed anything at all. Some of them are coming down for a rodeo in a few weeks so I should see them there. After dinner they took a football and Marcus’s tricycle and went into the abandoned streets to play football by the moonlight. Such a great feel out here. I turned in early, as I had to catch a ride to Windorah the next morning at 4:45 AM…

This ride to Windorah, with Ray the delivery man, is quite possibly the highlight of my entire Aussie trip thus far. He is called the “mail man” (so I literally came in with the mail) but he actually delivers any and everything to all farms/homesteads in between Quilpie and Windorah. We dropped off food, supplies, tires, mail, anything anyone could need. It was so much fun to see each farm, ranch, house…everyone wants you to stay for tea, and though we stayed for a chat with a few of them, we had to keep moving. At one house a helicopter flew close over our heads – Ray asked the lady of the house who that was and she said “oh, that’s dad, checking to make sure we didn’t miss any bulls during the muster yesterday.” Now, let me tell you something – perhaps the big ranches do this in Texas and I’m just unaware – but the ranches are so large here that they use helicopters, planes, motorbikes, and horses to muster their cattle. This sounded like a bit much to me so I asked one lady, Maureen, why they needed it – “Oh well, we’ve got 20,000 acres, just makes it easier.” As I balked at this, she said “Well we’ve just got a small property – you’ll see more helicopters and planes this morning for the property next to us, they’ve got 1,000,000 acres…” A MILLION ACRES? Yep, the Outback.
Ray and I continued on our route to Windorah, sometimes detouring for an hour off the road to make mail or supplies drops…(and by the way, the road was not paved, or sealed as they say, for most of the trip…just red dirt road) one drop was just hysterical. Even though we drove an hour off the main road, when he started slowing down with absolutely nothing in site but some small sand dunes and plains, I was curious as to what was going on…then I saw an old icebox, from about 1952, in the middle of nowhere. He pulled right up to it, hopped out, and threw some mail in there. “Aw yeah, that’s just old Rick’s drop, he just comes to pick it up from there, he’s too far out for us.” A lone vintage ice box in the middle of the Outback. Love it.

On a solemn note, at the beginning of our drive, we saw many kangaroos…when I commented on this Ray said “oh yeah, we’ll probably hit four or five by the end of the day”…I thought surely he was joking, but nope – we definitely hit five kangaroos. That truck was loaded down with too much weight to stop fast – we would have wrecked – and though he tries to honk and get them out of the way, like our Texas deer, they get confused. I definitely had some tears from the first one, but I didn’t want to seem like a sook in the Outback so tried to take it in stride.

So, here I am in Windorah, working at the pub. The dynamics are interesting – but keeping with my usual mentality I just don't engage with anything that isn’t real or doesn’t involve relishing this experience. Though it can be stressful and sometimes lonely, I’m telling you I’m still having the time of my life. My first day of work was Thursday, the night before the annual Windorah rodeo – what a night to start! Ringers (pronounced “Rangas”) and cowboys travelled in from everywhere for the rodeo – we were a packed house. A ringer is a cowboy who works on a cattle station, whereas an actual cowboy is someone who competes in the rodeos. There are about 40 cattle stations around here – around here meaning within a 500 km radius, which is quite close. So they poured in, and I was definitely thrown in to the mix with no training at all, having a hard time with the accents, and shoot have never worked in a proper bar before! But I did it, and had SO MUCH FUN. Everyone immediately asks where I’m from, and by now my name is “Texas”. Once again, everyone is quite thrilled with the fact that I’m from the lone star state. There were a few foreigners there as well, one Irish and one German girl who both work as jillaroos on local stations, and a really nice Kiwi guy who is a pilot and musters the cattle with his plane on one of the stations.

The next day the pub closed at 12:00 (the entire town closed down, which consists of us, the Post Office, and the servo across the street run by Merv the blind man) so that we could head to the rodeo. Sitting at that rodeo all day, in the middle of red dirt, horses, cowboys and ringers that looked straight out of a book, I kept having to pinch myself. The people are so nice, in a truly genuine way. (I mean, in the bar you definitely get the drunk ones who are yelling at you about anything, but that’s to be expected.) Later in the day I took part in some relay race, running down a race track with a toga on, and spoon and egg in my mouth (yeah, I dunno) and then later the party started. Picture yourself under the insane beauty of the Outback stars, untouched by smog or city lights, in the middle of nowhere, with Lady Gaga blaring, disco lights flashing, and drunk ringers bumpin’ and grinding. Surreal much? (Ladies, a word: the guy – girl ratio here is pretty damn good, I would say about 10:1, so if you’re lookin for love, come visit…although I have to say these guys are pretty wild, so be prepared.) I had a great time. The rodeo grounds are about 6K away from town, and by 12:30 AM I was over the party scene, having stayed up late the night before. So, I started to head home. I had many offers to walk me home, even some piggy back (no one was driving drunk) and though I accepted an escort to the main road, I insisted on walking back to town by myself….family, friends, please don’t be worried! I cannot really express what an incredible experience this was. There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of – this time of year, their winter, there are no crazy critters about, except for kangaroos and emus…there are no dangerous characters – everyone alive in that area was either at the rodeo or already in town, and everyone knows literally everyone – and well, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to walk, by myself, under the blanket of the stars, in the Australian Outback. It was something I will never forget, as long as I live. I would describe it as something like God and I, alone, just hanging out together. And of course I stared half dumb at the stars the whole way home. I will cherish that memory forever…all up until the cattle guard, which I thought I had under control until it claimed both of my feet and I went tumbling over. Ah well, bruised pride and a busted hand are small prices to pay for that experience.

The next day brought bronco and bull riding…just great fun. After the rodeo ended around 3:00 we opened the pub back up, and those who didn’t have to head straight home for work the next day hung around trying to prolong the holiday…we didn’t close up until 12:00 that night. I was exhausted yesterday, to say the least.

So, that’s it for now! The pub and hotel is hard work…I won’t lie. But I didn’t come out here to sit on my bum, and even though it can be stressful I’m really enjoying it. It’s a lot of outdoor work, which I love, and I’m meeting so many great people. Tomorrow is my day off, a neighbor said he would take me riding, let’s hope he remembers. I’m also looking into working on a cattle station after this, so please keep your fingers crossed that that works out.

Also, just so you know - there is absolutely no cell phone service, our phone line is dicey, and the internet is something like an old gramophone - not always working, and you have to crank it up really hard and just pray that it lasts as long as you need it. So if I'm slow to respond or unable to write enough, I'm sorry...just know that I'm thinking about you all and miss you loads.

Love you all so much!

Nancy

As I sit here in the airport musing about my Melbourne experience, the airline announces that my flight has been delayed yet again. Melbourne must be having as much trouble letting me go as I am her…perfect time to write another update.

When I look back on it I am truly blown away by everything that has happened here. It’s like the universe just smiled upon me and gave me the most incredible working experience I could have hoped for…an office in the heart of CBD (what they call downtown – “Central Business District”) with an incredible view of the of the city and the ocean, the most amazing/fun/generous people as coworkers, and exposure to the Aussie way of life as a direct participant, rather than an outside traveler. Three weeks ago I was saying sad goodbyes to everyone at BDO as my temporary assignment was up….only to receive a call from them the following Monday inviting me back for another assignment. I worked with the Wealth Management team and thank my lucky stars for it as I met the most amazing friends – Mizz Sharon Esquamel and her husband “Smaq”. There was an adventure to the first Australian Costco (sadly the American obsession with instant gratification in the form of ‘how much can I accumulate and consume’ are now packaged and marketed here in the land down under) and a Sing Star competition that lasted well into the wee hours of the morning…Jeffrey and Chris, it reminded me of the old late night Rock Band wars at the House of Bruce! I have been blown away by their generosity, especially Kerry who has truly looked after me like a mum, and opened her home to me. I’m going to miss coming home and watching TV with her and a glass of wine so much!

Joey and I had a blast during his visit - my favorite was the night we stumbled into a bar that had a band playing called Soul Tribe. We were the first ones there, and the last ones to leave – this band rocked the joint with the likes of Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, George Clinton, John Lee Hooker, even some of their own stuff…I made sure everyone was dancing. The band was aptly named! Joey and I also ventured to a Guns N Roses tribute concert on the 4th of July – I mean, what better way to celebrate our great nation’s birthday? I’m posting a video of a fan who valiantly attempted but bitterly failed a stage dive – towards the end of November Rain. Do yourself a favor and watch it; hysterical. We did few touristry things; but my favorite find was the State Library of Victoria. Absolutely gorgeous, and it was literally something straight out of Harry Potter – they have their “special” books in book cases on the walls all the way to the ceiling; only attendants know where the door, key, and staircase was to each one. I could have lived very happily in that room.

After Joey left and I was preparing to leave Melbourne, I turned up the tourism a few notches. I saw the Tim Burton exhibition – absolutely amazing – that guy has one of the most brilliant creative minds I’ve ever been exposed to. It included some of his drawings and writings from highs chool, as well as some costumes from his movies…the scissor hands, the sculptures from Beetlejuice (one of my favorite childhood movies!), etc.

I went to an Australian Rules Footy game between #1 Collingwood and #3 St. Kilda. It was a brilliant match but in the end my St. Kilda team did not win. Their games are very different…firstly they don’t wear pads/helmets, it’s very “full on”, as they say. The field is enormous – bigger that a regulation soccer field. They kick and punch the ball to each other down the field – it’s like a combination of soccer and our football – and it is a constant scramble, rarely is the game stopped. I bought a ticket for $20 and went to the general admission area, where you could sit anywhere you found a seat…it was a packed house. They don’t divide everyone into home and visitor sections; instead fans from both sides are interspersed all throughout the stadium. No cheerleaders. Very different. In fact, their universities don’t even have footy teams – if you want to be a football player, you join your local neighborhood club and play as a kid…through the years they keep their eye on you, and if you try out and make the team, well then you’re in. Doesn’t seem to be nearly as regulated or money hungry as ours…and each team is from a suburb, not a city – for example Melbourne itself had something like 15 teams; St. Kilda, Collingwood, Carlton…very different. But very fun.


I took a day tour drive along the Great Ocean Road; so many gorgeous landmarks out there. The land itself was something that I would have imagined in Ireland – lush, green rolling hills with sheep grazing in paddocks. Nothing like the barren desert we see in pictures! But apparently Victoria has had more rain this year than the last 15; I would like to thank the clouds for making it so gorgeous. We saw Bell’s Beach (remember that from Point Break? Ah, Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze...) the 12 Apostles (rock formations rising out of the ocean) a rain forest and even a whale.

Also hit up the Queen Victoria Markets – I would describe it as an acre of fresh produce, meats, cheeses, wine, etc – and the Rememberance Shrine, a tribute to all of the Australians who have fallen in war. That was the most meaningful to me; with two grandfathers who have served, I stood in awe and respect reading about Australia’s war history. Such a waste of precious lives – I hope someday we will learn to live defining ourselves by our commonalities rather than our differences. And then killing each other over them.

There is just too much to relay! I am now in Brisbane – it’s taken a few days to write this update – and MAN! I love it! Spent the first few nights here Couch Surfing. A friend recommended it in Austin, and I absolutely love this organization. Their slogan is “changing the world, one couch at a time.” It’s a way for travelers to see a city or area through a native’s eyes, and meet and connect with people from all over the world. I’ve stayed at two different houses – complete opposite ends of the social spectrum – and made some amazing friends out of it. Yes, you of course need to be careful and use your best judgment – but they have security checks, etc. It’s a great way to connect people and expand horizons. I’ve met up with Joey again here in Brizzy, and as usual it has been great…just been seeing the sights and hanging out with friends – as luck would have it, Jonny Napoli is in Brisbane this weekend too! As this guy was my tour driver six long years ago through Europe, I have officially seen him in more places on this earth than anyone else – 13 different countries, and now three different cities in Oz – Sydney, Melbourne, and Brisbane. He has one of the biggest and best hearts on the planet – I am so very thankful for our friendship. Don’t let that big scary tattoo fool you.

My Brizzy excursion is coming to a close; Joey has already headed north to Cairns (pronounced Caaaaaaaaaans) and I was planning on going with him…but….(drum role please) I have landed the best gig EVER!!! I am leaving on Tuesday to go to Windorah, QLD. (http://tiny.cc/2trb4) I will be behind the bar at this hotel pub: http://www.westernstarhotel.com.au/ . It is a six week assignment, and seeing as I have to take a 24 hour train to get there and then have someone give me a ride for the final six hours to Windorah, I think it’s safe to say I am truly heading to the Outback, at long last. There is a tiny mention of Windorah in my Lonely Planet Australia book: “Windorah. Either really wet or really dry.” The end. I AM SO EXCITED! This is exactly one of the experiences I was looking for. If you don’t hear from me for six weeks – it’s because I’m meditating in isolation on the red dirt of the Australian Outback. Or maybe it’s because I’m getting crazy with the locals. Either way, sounds good to me. :)

I am thoroughly impressed if you have made it this far! Not sure if I’ll have internet access in the Outback but I’ll try to find some. After that I plan on working on a horse farm, we’ll see how we go. I hold all of you in my heart everyday and am so thankful for the amazing friends and family I have supporting this journey. Couldn’t do it without yous.

In closing, some more Aussie isms that I have recently learned:

1. Crook – not well, a little off. “Mate are you coming down with a cold? You sound a bit crook.”
2. “Up and down like a fart in a bottle” – similar to our “running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off”
3. Poet’s Day – Friday; as in “Piss off early bc tomorrow’s Saturday”
4. Fig Jam (Maturity rating R so mothers hide your children’s eyes) Fuck I’m Good Just Ask Me. Heard “Fig Jam” a lot around the office.

That’s all for now folks. Lots of love to everyone. See you on the other side.
TA. :)

MELBOURNE! What glory! What culture, what attitude!

I think I have found my Australian home away from home. I swear, the minute I stepped off the plane I could feel it. I didn’t think it, smell it, analyze it or envision it – I could feel it. Melbourne is frequently referred to as the “cultural” city in Australia – I would have to agree. There is so much more live music pouring out of smoky doorways and clubhouses here than in Sydney. Quite honestly I was shocked at what a small live music scene Sydney had. The attitude of the people here in Melbourne is also different, very “cosmopolitan” – yet with a hippie-esque relaxed attitude. The best way to relate it would be as follows: Sydney is to Dallas as Melbourne is to Austin. And there you have it. No offense to Dallas or my beloved Dallas peeps, but you all know I’m an Austin girl through and through – now with a dash of Melbourne, so it would seem.

Noticing the drastic drop in bank funds since Sydney, I scrambled for a job the first week I arrived in Melbourne and immediately landed two temporary gigs. I would highly recommend temp agencies for anyone with corporate experience who is travelling – not only does it pay much better than the average café or traveler job, it also offers immediate access to the inner workings of the country’s culture and thinking. For example, my first temp job was a one-day assignment only, for a company called “PPB”. I had no idea who or what PPB was, but when I arrived at their downtown offices and had to go through two security scans to get to their floor, I knew they were “somebody”. That morning on the Today show (which is basically a carbon copy of ours – goofy weather woman, sharp/witty anchorwoman, goofy anchorman, and an Ann Curry look alike news reporter) a story broke about Clive Peters, a huge Aussie hardware store chain similar to Home Depot or LOWES, that had just declared bankruptcy. Citizens all over the country were unable to collect items they had already paid for, and it was unclear as to whether these people would ever see their money again. I “tsk tsk”ed the TV and headed out to catch the train into town. Imagine my surprise when I sit down to my shiny new desk and my manager says “Right. So we are handling the Clive Peters receivership. You’ll be answering consumer calls, here is your script.” For the next 8 hours I spoke to at least 200 Aussies who were either irate, bewildered, saddened, or downright frantic. I had women crying to me that I had no right to take their money. I had builders yelling that they had twenty houses waiting on the twenty refrigerators they had paid for in full and now I wouldn’t let them pick them up from the store – they had paid for them in full and I WAS STEALING FROM THEM!!!. I had husband and wife teams get on two phones to me and read out the Australian laws and how what we were doing was illegal. I had an 80 year old granny ask me how she was going to do her laundry now that she couldn’t pick up her machine from the store and she had no more money to buy another one. Yes folks, yes. The worst: A man on the phone screamed “You obviously have no scruples to be some AMERICAN to take a job like this when you know that company is stealing from Australian citizens!!!” Yes, oh yes. In reality this was all very interesting for me – I didn’t let the mean ones get to me, for after all their anger had nothing to do with me personally – and if I was them, I would have been frustrated too, especially since I could not deviate from my script or give any concrete information. Just remember this for yourselves, people: the next time you call up some hotline to bemoan your troubles or to rage about the injustice you’re being served, you might just be speaking to some foreign backpacker who is as clueless as you are, and though they might truly sympathize and want to help you, there is simply nothing they can do about it. So don’t take it out on them.

My next temporary gig was a five week assignment; I’ve been with them for a while now, it ends next week, and I am going to miss it SO MUCH!!! It’s for an accounting firm, and man gosh almighty are the offices gorgeous. I am a receptionist, and for a company that has two floors in the famous Rialto Towers downtown with 300 people, I am a very busy receptionist. I manage the switchboard, book meeting rooms, greet clients, PA for directors, etc, etc. Guess what – I absolutely LOVE IT. The people I work with are SO MUCH FUN!!! My fellow receptionist is Kerry, a woman who has been here for 9 years and is an absolute gem. I call her my “mama bear”; she has truly taken me under her wing and stays on top of me about finding other jobs, buying warm clothes, getting good food to eat, etc. She practically forces her own coat and scarf on me every time I go outside because she thinks I’m going to catch a cold. This is truly comical to me; you should see the Aussies get all bundled up like Eskimos to go outside, complete with their UGG boots, two scarves, hats, gloves, and trenchcoats…when it is only 18 Celsius, which is about 64 Fahrenheit. I hear it gets really cold here; I’m still waiting for it. The other great thing about this job is my “office”. :) Our half of the floor is a giant room that can be turned into three separate entertaining areas – and the walls are all floor to ceiling windows. We have a 180 degree view of downtown Melbourne and Australia beyond on one side, and the ocean on the other. The sunsets and sunrises from this view are absolutely stunning. On that note, the sunrises/sunsets/just skies in general here are the most majestic I have ever seen, anywhere, period. I’m sure it has to do with Australia’s location on the planet and their lack of smog compared to places I’ve been, but I’m telling you – even in the middle of the day, at 2:00 pm, I have to stop and marvel at the crystal clear blue skies with floating blankets of pink and golden clouds. It’s just unbelievable. I’m afraid half of my pictures are of skies or trees, HA! Back to my job – to give you an idea of how fun this company is, or I’m guessing of the Aussie corporate culture in general, they had a “Sex in the City” night for us ladies. They served cosmos and champagne in our reception area at 5:30, with the first movie playing on a huge screen in the background, muted. At one point I turned to the movie and saw that we were right in the middle of one of Samantha’s R-rated scenes…looking around, no one noticed or cared. Hmm…I thought, this would certainly violate some sort of HR code in the states. Then we all headed out to the Golden Pass Theater and watch SATC 2. So much fun. They’re doing the same thing for Eclipse. Every Friday at around 3:30 or 4:00 is “Friday afternoon drinks” meaning just that – everyone has a beer or opens a bottle of wine at their desk. At the end of the month is “end of month” drinks which, luckily for me, was the first week I started. I joined everyone in the training room (which is more like a giant hotel ballroom) for kegs, tubs of champagne, wine, food, and a Wii competition. Next week is their end of year party, and we’ll all be on a party barge for 4 hours – pirate costume required. Did I mention that the reason for my 5 week assignment here is due to the other receptionist taking her 5 week holiday in Europe, “as you do”? Folks, welcome to the Aussie corporate culture.

Can you see now why I am having an ideological war within myself? I came to Australia to do something completely different – work in pubs, on farms, write, play music. And yet I find myself enjoying the corporate world so much more over here. I will still be working on farms – that is not up for debate. But for now, the corporate world is growing on me for cultural and financial reasons. :)

Let’s see…in other news, I have rented a room in Newport, a 14 minute train ride from downtown. I absolutely LOVE MY HOUSE. It’s an old art gallery converted to a home, so there is fabulous artwork everywhere and just a general funkiness to the place that really resonates with me. Wood floors, a fully stocked kitchen, and my own big beautiful furnished bedroom with cute curtains and a big desk. Every morning I walk to the train station for my commute into town, and I pass a mural painting with “TRUST” emblazoned into its center. This is the best thing to see and be reminded of every morning. I really enjoy joining the thousands that migrate into the city for work – it is so much fun to experience that! Everyone walks to the same heart beat, it’s just crazy, a feeling that I can’t put into words. No one really speaks on the train because you are all so smashed together, you know all up in your neighbor’s personal space, but nothing you can do about it – so everyone kind of takes a vow of silence. Then as you exit the train it’s like you’re all a part of the same organism and you have to work together to all fit on the escalators, then through the gates, and then over the crosswalks. What a thing to be a part of. I’m reading Jack Kerouac’s On the Road right now, and good lord there are so many parallels that I catch myself throwing the book down wanting to accuse him of stealing my thoughts. But then I remember that this book was written well over 50 years ago…which just goes to reinforce the one thought that all of my travels lead me back to: no matter where you go, we’re all the same. All of our differences are just illusions – this ain’t no fancy idealistic new age thing folks – it’s just truth.

Other random tidbits…the FIFA World Cup has been a lot of fun here, I watched the opening USA/ENG game with my cool British neighbors. While I was just happy to be happy watching it, yelling “yippee!” or “yay!” occasionally when I thought USA were doing well, these guys sat with furrowed brow and cussed at the television nonstop. Very serious matter to the rest of the world, this FIFA World Cup is. I also had many men stopping by my desk at work to ask who I was rooting for in the NBA Finals, and several say “GO SPURS!” as they passed! I had no idea that they followed basketball so closely – I had quite a surprise when I went to a small food court for lunch that day, which is usually deserted…but found it PACKED with guys watching the game. With every score they would all scream in unison, it was deafening. Melbourne is known as the sports capital of Australia, and I will be going to my first footy game here soon.

Some more terms from the Aussie dictionary:

1. Sook: cry baby. “Don’t be such a sook!!”
2. Bingle: car crash. “Nah look, he had a bingle but he’s fine.”
3. Cracked it: to go off on someone. Shit hits the fan. “She saw him kissing that other girl and she cracked it.” I love this phrase.
4. Tickets: I really have no idea. Sam at work is trying to explain this one to me. Something about if someone thinks they're “all that”, acting as if they would sell tickets for themselves, then you say “tickets…” really sarcastically. I think. Something like that.
5. MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE. TA: thank you. Pronounced “tah”. Everyone kept saying this to me when I would transfer a call to them, and people would reply “TA” to my emails…I thought it was some weird code for something they wanted me to do, but apparently it just means thank you! It’s the cutest thing and so common. When I expressed my delight to Kerry, she said “But don’t you say that? You know when you’re a baby and your mum teaches you to say thank you you say “Taaaaaaa!” Um, nope. But I will now. Love it.

And there we are for now! Please keep your fingers crossed and say prayers that I find another job…today. :) I love Melbourne so much, and could really see myself staying here for quite a while. You know what that means – TIME FOR YOU TO COME AND VISIT! That’s right, YOU! :) Joey Sommerfield arrives here in Melbourne on Thursday June 24th, and words cannot express my sheer delight and giddiness. Things like Skype, email, and Facebook really make you all seem much closer than you are…and because of this I have not been overcome with homesickness or sadness at not seeing my friends or family in person for the past 6 months. However, there is something to be said for being around the people who have known you your whole life, who help make up the fabric of you, who help hold you up with an invisible wall of support. I don’t know what it’s going to feel like to be physically close to someone like that again. Joey, when I see you I’m either going to tackle you in a bear hug, cry like a sook, faint, or float off into la la land. Hope you’re ready.

Much love, hope all is well, and that the Texas heat is treating you with respect if not mercy –

Nancy

Well here we are, the Sydney Chapter of Australia is for me, coming to a close.

And I have to say I’m quite ready for it.

Don’t get me wrong – I absolutely adore this seaside, always-something-to-celebrate cultural melting pot of a city, but I stayed here much longer than I originally intended, and I am very ready to see the rest of Australia. Tomorrow morning I embark on a Tiger Airways flight to Melbourne, to at last settle in with Lisa for a bit and experience the “artsy fartsy” city of the land down under. (Note: When in Australia, Tiger Airways is the way to fly – for example this flight cost me tax only at $48. However, you pay for what you get – meaning that these flights load and unload on the runway, not the terminal, and the baggage claim in Melbourne is a portable “cage” outside, disconnected from the rest of the airport. You feel like you’re stepping off into a jail cell waiting to be bailed out by your ride…or a taxi.)

This past weekend was quite an exciting one for Sydney; Jessica Watson, the 16 year old from Queensland, returned after 7.5 months at sea. She has now become the youngest person on Earth to sail around the world without stopping. Thousands upon thousands gathered near the Sydney Opera House to welcome her home, and the harbor was packed with boats that formed a fleet behind her as she passed. One forgets (at least I do) that though Australia is a continent about as big as Canada, their population is a mere 22 million (as compared to Texas with 25 million, if Google Public Data is accurate). Thus there is an extremely communal feel to living here; even though it is it’s own country, it feels more like a smallish state, where everyone knows and relates to everyone, and though there might be disputes over whatever political debate is popular at the moment (right now it is Public Transport, but I swear for all of their bad publicity the Sydney and Melbourne trains run fabulously) there is a general sense of unity and most of all – pride. This was in full force as Jessica sailed into the harbor. Her father and brother supported her on either side as she stepped off the boat, for 7 months on sea can leave one feeling a bit wobbly, I’m sure. It was amazing to see the people swell and cheer for Jessica as she passed them. It brought tears to my eyes; you could feel the love and the respect.

So later that day, basking in the glow of this Aussie pride, I headed to the markets to get Helen some food. Australia has some grocery stores like we do, though nothing compared to an HEB or Albertson’s. Their two main grocery chains are Woolworth’s and Coles. I went to the biggest Woolworth’s in Cremorne, an area that Helen’s daughter lives in – also an area renowned for having the biggest and best Woolworth’s in the city, boasting that people drive for hours to experience it’s goods. It was no where near Central Market or Whole Foods; I wonder if we all realize how blessed we are, how many options we have at our finger tips. I also find that though these grocery stores have fruits, veggies, meats, etc, people tend to go to the “butcher” for meat, “fish shop” for seafood, “market” for fruits and veggies…so on this day I was heading to the butcher to get Helen her small rump filet. The nice Asian butcher sliced it in half for me – he recognizes me by now – and I turned to make my way towards Coles. Once inside I realized that the butcher must have been in a hurry, because there was a smallish piece of raw chicken on the package. Now I’m a bit embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction, but as it kind of grossed me out, without thinking I quickly flicked it with my fingers, thinking it would…you know, diappear into outer space and cease to exist, like everything does when you flick it out of eyesight. Instead it landed smack in the middle of an older man’s back as he innocently surveyed watermelons. I frantically looked around, I could seriously feel my cheeks turning bright red…no one had seen….so I inched my way towards him and quietly extended my arm towards his back to deftly pick it off. Just as my fingers were about to make contact, something sharp and pointed jabbed me sharply where the sun don’t shine – sorry to be graphic folks – but truly that doesn’t even do it justice. Imagine quietly concentrating in your own world, and then BAM! Something sharp sticks you were you know it shouldn’t. So, as any normal person would, I yelped and jumped forward, slightly smacking the old man in the back. He turned to look at me, I turned to search for the culprit, which turned out to be an old lady carrying a box who had tripped and fallen right into me – or I should say, the corner of the box did. The three of us looked at each other, and hurried away. I think we all wanted to forget about it.

Another adventure I had recently was as I was walking to the car after an outing, I stumbled upon an old abandoned graveyard. Literally, it looked just like The Secret Garden – except a cemetery. :) No one had mowed or trimmed the place in what looked like years, and the entrance was completely obscure – the only reason I found it was because, well hey, when I see a foresty path leading into darkness with no fresh footprints – I’m there! It was truly incredible. HUGE. The overgrowth was gorgeous, but to look at the graves was so interesting, they were some of the original emigrants from England. I finally found an old sign from the 70s talking about the cemetery being one of the first in Australia, and declaring that renovations would start soon. Looks like that never happened. Walking around that piece of history, seeing names of people with “born in Sussex, England, 1805) was so intriguing. One grave was for a little boy named Jack who died at age 5, bearing the inscription “Daddy’s best mate”. Again, some tears. I even found some ancestors, I believe, some “Liggins” from England. Mom, Dad, I took pictures of the tombstone and will be sending them to you. I can’t explain, this was a very special day for me. I was excited to talk to Helen about it when I returned.

"Helen, what year was Australia founded?"
"1977."
“Are you sure? You mean 1777?"
"Yes...1717. I'm not good with Geography."

Man I’m going to miss this woman. I believe in fact that Australia was founded in 1788 (thank you again, Google).

There is so much to write about that if I narrated it all in this fashion, we could be here for a while. So, I’ve made a list…see below for facts learned, experiences had, thoughts pondered, and things to make you go “huh?”…

1. Russell Crowe is not Australian. He is a Kiwi. The Aussie’s dirtiest little secret.

2. Women here are HUGE on “tradies”…as in tradesmen: plumbers, electricians, builders…there was a story on the National News concerning the topic, and there are many advertising campaigns celebrating this man’s man image of the ultimate Aussie.

3. Which leads me to nicknames. Being the natural, fun loving, don’t waste time with boring stuff if ever possible creatures that they are, it follows that most words in the English language are shortened for ease of use and jolliness of character: Breakfast=breaky, present=prezzy, “swimming costume”=cossies, or bathers, television=telly, sunglasses=sunnies, bathroom=dunny (I’m stuck on that one). There are countless others but after all this isn’t a translation dictionary.

4. Watch out fashion police, the times they are a’changin – it is now not only acceptable but fashionable to wear brown and black. Specifically black leggings and brown boots. It’s everywhere folks. I have broken down and purchased some black leggings but I refuse to wear brown on my black. So far. Something else that I’m fighting: MC Hammer pants. Yep, they are all the rage here too. As are black leggings under denim cut off shorts, and fedoras worn with cut up t-shirts hanging off the shoulder…it’s like I’ve stepped into an Uncle Buck scene. Let’s hope my life-sized pancakes are gluten free.

5. Trucks here are rare. I’ve seen a few that look like trucks, but the beds are all metal – and they call them “trays”. For example, one doesn’t have a truck, they have a “car with a tray”. I mentioned to someone about a pickup truck and they said “oh yeah that’s a Texas thing, right?” Maybe this will be different in the Outback.

6. Talk about fresh – the good thing from buying your veggies and fruits at the market is that you know it has come straight from the farmer’s truck into your hands. Proof of this is that every single time I rinse our veggies, I find real live farm critters: a spider, moth, worm, lady bug, and some other unidentified beetle type so far.

7. They use sunflower oil to cook much more than olive oil. Sunflower oil is produced en masse here.

8. When I first arrived, the major debates on the news were regarding Health Care and the Prime Minister’s lack of a solid plan (sound familiar?) For reasons we will leave undisclosed, I recently had a trip to the Emergency Room. Super clean, five minute wait, in and out in 30 minutes – again, sometimes it seems popular for them to be engaged in some sort of political disagreement just to keep busy – because that ER experience far outshined any I’ve had in the states.

So, onward I go. Absolutely cannot wait to see Lisa, to see more of the arts and music of Australia, and just to experience something new. That being said, I wouldn’t trade my time here in Sydney for anything. I have met some of the most amazing people, and truly gained an appreciation and respect for this great city. More photos coming to Facebook shortly.

I will be writing much more in Melbourne – again, the internet situation here has been touch and go. I miss all you wonderful people! Please, as you are moving into that glorious Texas Summer, remember me here in Melbourne where it is starting to get very, very cold…take a dip in the Springs and enjoy a Daily Juice for me!!!

Love love –

Nancy

Great Aussie Adventure Part 3

WOW. There is so much to convey I literally don’t know where to start. I’m just going to write it all…if you make it the whole way through, good on’ya! Warning: this update will be largely dedicated to The Dead Weather. But first…

I have been living with Helen, one of the coolest 80 year old ladies I ever did meet, here in Chatswood – a very nice and family oriented suburb of Sydney. The city is a quick 10 minute train ride away, and I have to be honest – I’M LOVING IT. After all the hoopla and running from friends’ places to hostels and back and forth and packing and unpacking and sharing bathrooms and being woken up at all hours of the night when drunken travelers are returning from 24 hour bars…living with Helen is like a true vacation. I have my own gorgeous bedroom and big, wall-length bay window that opens up to a balcony…and my own bathroom. After being a nomad for five weeks, I cannot begin to describe the luxury I feel like I’m being cradled in. I also thoroughly enjoy being of service to Helen. She just recently came down with asthma, which has really slowed her down…it frustrates her, as she likes to get out and do things, be active. Sometimes she gets down, so I do my best to always bring her cheer and make her laugh – every now and then she cracks a smile for me, which is payment enough. I really enjoy cooking her dinner, though she is brutally honest – she doesn’t like the way I cook spinach! And my vegan tendencies are very “interesting” to her. When we first met and I told her I was a vegetarian, she said oh yes, I don’t eat much meat either…just steak at night. I giggled.

Another thing I love about living here is that I get to drive her to appointments, to meet friends, to shop. Something happened, the whole driving on the left hand side of the road thing clicked – it’s natural now. I even take the car into town by myself to pick up things for her. I feel like a real citizen of the world again.

I’ve joined the local library and am tearing it up…I’ve rented all kinds of music books and literature, learning about the Aussie music scene and the impact of the digital age here…as well as some Sherlock Holmes. I was reading Rob Roy, but after having to turn to the index after every sentence to translate the old Scottish dialect that Sir Walter Scott created, I’ve moved on.

I continue to enjoy the sights and sounds of Sydney…it took me three days to get through the New South Wales Art Gallery; not only was the art unbelievable, but it was FREE!!!! A backpacker’s dream! Plus they had an absolutely incredible exhibition by NSW high school students. I was blown away. I’m posting pictures on Facebook for you art lovers – but be advised I have about 200+ pictures to upload, so if you make it to the art photos, I’ll be very impressed. I also spent a few days lingering around the Botanical Gardens, and reading and writing there. The gardens are also free, and packed with people in business suits during the lunch hour, either walking back to work after eating or breaking bread together on the grounds. Every day in Sydney during lunch you will find people in business suits playing footie in a park, or cricket, or eating their lunch…they really do get out of the office and enjoy some sunshine and down time. I love it. Also, fair warning with the Botanical Gardens pictures…there are a lot of trees featured. I love trees in general but I have never seen any like they have here in Oz. Absolutely incredible, like something straight out of Avatar.

Speaking of Avatar, or mass marketed 3-D animation, I saw Alice in Wonderland at the Darling Harbor IMAX, which claims to be the “largest IMAX screen in the world”. I loved the movie, but I’m gonna have to say that the good ole Bob Bullock Theater seems larger to me, from memory. What do we say, everything’s bigger in Texas? Indeed.

All right folks…and now…THE DEAD WEATHER. Most of you are aware that Jack White has been a sort of musical guru for me since I was 18 (as he is with thousands of music aficionados out there). He serves as drummer for this band, with Dean Fertita (Queens of the Stone Age) on guitar/keyboard, Jack Lawrence on bass (The Greenhornes) and the vixenalicious Alison Mosshart (The Kills) on vocals. They announced their Australia tour after I booked my flights over here – talk about Universe in alignment! I immediately snatched up tickets to see them in Melbourne and Sydney…

Two weekends ago I flew to Melbourne for the first show. This was exciting for several reasons…1.) It was my first time to see The Dead Weather perform since last fall 2.) I was getting out of Sydney and finally seeing another part of Australia and, the most important reason of all…3.) I WAS REUNITED WITH LISA! Lisa is an amazing friend that I met travelling in Europe – deep breath – six long years ago. We did a European tour together. First day on the bus, she boards, approaches the empty seat next to me, and says “Right. This seat taken?” The rest is history. She’s been to visit me in the states. To finally be able to see her again, and in her own environment, was amazing. We’ve both grown and changed, and yet at the same time we fell right back into our groove with each other. She joined me for the concert – and after never having heard of them, she walked away thoroughly impressed. The weekend passed by too fast but I’ll be back with her soon – she’s been kind enough to open her home to me for when I move to Melbourne. I’ll be staying there for about a month while I’m interviewing for jobs at the local record stores and live music venues…(more to come on Melbourne later when I’m actually living there – but just briefly – IT KICKS ASS)

Back in Sydney the following Friday, the day of The Dead Weather show, they announced another show the following night…thank GOD I checked my email that day, otherwise I wouldn’t have heard about it. I received an email notification from them describing “an intimate showing at the Oxford Art Factory”…intimate show with The Dead Weather? I’m there. I went to their show that night at the Enmore Theater in Newtown which is the area near Sydney University, super young and hip with lots of restaurants and nightlife around. The show rocked; there were a few mishaps with the drums, but not to be thwarted, Jack got up with maracas and just sang the song himself…the crowd was on fire. Watching bands like The Dead Weather perform is always such a thrill because there is such an exchange of energy that happens…the crowd fuels the band, and the band pours that back into the crowd. We end up being there not only as patrons or fans, but as an integral part of the show; our participation helps them dig down and release the sounds or vibrations we help inspire in them…ahhhh I LOVE IT! After the show I noticed some people gathering outside the back of the venue, waiting for the band to come out. There were enough people there that I figured well, if they don’t want to talk to us, they will let us know. Ladies and gents, I met my guru. A roady came out and requested that we not take any pictures and no autographs; the band needed to get home…and then they came. Jack said hi first; there was this young hipster kid with super tight too-low jeans and oober blow dried peroxide blonde hair…when Jack shook his hand the boy croaked out something like “I love you Jack” to which Jack responded “ahh you” and pulled him in for a quick bear hug and then ruffled his hair. It was a sweet moment to watch, and the kid practically started crying. I just said, God bless ya, Jack.…I mean, how do you say “Thank you Jack for being an antenna and following your inspiration and helping me trust that instinct in myself for all of these years, and for the brilliant music you’ve brought us and for all of the cool things you’re doing for music with Third Man Records” ...with sincerity in a few short words? I’m sure he hears that all the time. Perhaps he's tired of hearing it. He replied “Thank you sweetheart” and shook my hand. I would be lying if I said it didn’t make my little girl’s heart swell, though I’m sure he said the same thing to every other lady there. It was a real thrill and honor meeting Dean and Alison too, they were super cool. Very generous with their fans. It was a good night.

Which brings me to their final show, at the Oxford Art Factory. People, I have no words. No words to describe the joy, the gratitude, the amazement I feel at the whole thing. The venue room was about as big as my house on South Oak – TINY!!! There were, maybe (?) 150 people in the whole room. TINY. The stage was so small they couldn’t even have all of their equipment on, and no back drop. I got there early and walked right to the front of the stage, arms resting on the rail – when they came on, I couldn’t believe it. They were practically in my lap. I’m not going to go on and on and gush here, except to say that it was an experience I will carry with me forever, and one of the many reasons that I’m so obsessed with music. The way it feels to be a part of a show like that, you’re actually helping them with the creation, you are a part of the creation itself. I took some amazing videos and photos, all of which will be on Facebook…I’m going to try to upload one video here. It was the best live music experience of my life.

I know a lot of you are going to see them at Stubbs when they come to town in April…if you aren’t, I would (obviously) recommend it. Not only do they ALL have talent oozing out of every pore, but they also create this really fun “world”…I remember Austin M. described it like “they create this dark, sinister world but play with it…its dark and freaky but at the same time safe and playful”. I couldn’t agree more. They are all very much in character during the show; Jack tried hard to never even make eye contact with the audience and Alison…well, you’ll see. :) Of course overriding all of this is their incredible sound, a fabulous mix of hard rock and roll with yearning and poignant blues boiling up to the surface here and there…go see it for yourself, people!!!! April at Stubbs!

So! So. Here we are at the end. I’ve been looking forward to The Dead Weather shows so much ever since I got here, it’s going to be weird to not have them looming anymore. But I have a lot to do, things to accomplish, other music to scope out, puzzles to solve, joy to live out. I’m staying here with Helen for a few more weeks – I’m loving the quiet life I’m afforded here, it’s a good break – and then I’ll be on to Melbourne.

Once again, I’m reminded how lucky I am to have all of you in my life, and how lucky I am for being from the best city in the world – Austin, TX. I have been very homesick lately. It’s a good feeling, it drives me to focus and appreciate what I’m doing here even more, so that when I come home I’ll have that much more to give. Love to you all - I’ll write again as soon as I can. It’s a bit difficult because Helen doesn’t have internet (she’s still confused as to what it even is…when she needs me to call her daughters, she asks me to “email” them on her phone…it’s quite endearing). I’ll send another update as soon as I can.

LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!!!!