Australia part II
So now I’m in Cairns, Queensland and I have nothing planned but I have some ideas of what I want to do. All of that will wait for the following day. It’s time to check out the night life in Cairns. I was disappointed with my bar selections in Sydney so I was pretty excited to see so many cool bars in one little area. It remind me of me of my college town, which once held the proud bragging rights of holding the world record for the most amount of bars on one street. That’s right on any given weekend you could find over two thousand drunk and energetic student stumblers’s on the same street. What an environment to foster an education! Anyway, I was more than delighted at the scene Cairns presented. My first night out I’m bouncing bars by myself before I settle on a place that had an upper deck, outside, and was playing music videos. I was already a bit distracted with random thoughts as well as continuously moving around so I welcomed the opportunity to just sit outside and drink while watching music videos. The upper deck was busy but I did find a random seat with good viewing distance which I set my eyes on. Across from that seat was a cute yet eccentric looking girl. That’s interesting. She smiled as I thought about sitting down and she smiled again as I made up my mind. So naturally the first thing I do is start talking to the Asian couple on my left. I have very little interest in hearing what they have to say and I’m sure they felt the same about my contributions. I’m stalling. Eventually a conversation starts between me and the cute yet eccentric looking girl across from me. I’m not sure if we ever exchanged names but I do remember how difficult it was to determine where she came from. Once our conversation started I quickly defaulted to the brand of conversation you would expect from a class reunion…
Rolligun Class of ’97: ”How long have you been here?”
Rolligun w/o nametag: “What have you been doing?”
Rolligun Voted most likely to ask questions: “Where are you from?”
And that was the question right there! That was the question that let the cat out of the bag and opened the door to all things weird.
Eccentric Girl delighted with the depths of the question: “In this life or my last life?”
Rolligun smiling with anticipation: “Let’s start with your first life”
This was most definitely an interesting conversation as I learned about her sixth and seventh senses, her uncommitted marriage to a guy traveling around China, and her explanations of concepts such as free will, fortitude and sacrifice. As interesting as it was talking to her, it was also quite exhausting because the simplest things (or so I thought) would turn into another expansive discussion. It was like taking test and every question was either long division or essay. That’s best I can do to explain it. Maybe I just wasn’t deep enough to keep up with her, although I did hang in there for over two hours. The more we talked the more I also began to notice how her physical characteristics began to compliment her unusual beleifs. For example, her neck was bit longer than standard and stood very erect. Similar to that of a person who recovered from a car accident (or perhaps she was once a leaf eating animal in the savannah). Her eyes were sharp and extremely open (I had already asked her if she took ecstasy earlier and she hadn’t). Now I’m a mildly eccentric person myself, but she was definitely winning as I was getting a little freaked out by her. I began imagining her placing a curse on me…just because she could. I had to wrap this up and head back. I had long walk and I wanted to wake up early and plan some adventures. Anyway, she might have been from Czech Republic.
Some thirty-two hours later I was bungee jumping in the Rainforest. What’s up A.J. Hacket the father of Bungee? The platform was a large arch 44m in height and nestled comfortably in the valley of lot’s of trees. It looked like a mini-version of the St. Louis Arch. I got picked up in the morning by a little van that had the letters A – J in large bold fonts all over the place. If nothing else it was easy to recognize that that was my ride. Most thoughtful really. I had planned on spending the whole day out there as I knew one jump would not be enough. So I purchased the super-combo-unlimited package (something like that). This dazzling arrangement of promotions came with all sorts of conveniences and extras but there was only one thing I was concerned with. Unlimited jumps. That’s all that’s important. I’ve been sky diving before, but had never done bungee. As far as I’m concerned it’s a pretty simple process with little opportunity for confusion. I had wished the jump was a little higher (New Zealand has one that’s 125M!!!) but there is one important factor between bungee and sky diving. That factor is point of reference, a visual. When sky diving you’ll hit speeds of say 140 mph or so but there isn’t any physical comparison and it feels more as if you’re floating. With bungee you have the rocks, the trees, and the ground all rushing through your eyeballs in a flood of visual stimulation and all in a matter of seconds. It’s a hell of a time! For an extra fifteen dollars I was able to go up a couple of meters higher, have the bungee attached to my chest and run off the roof. I recommend that. I also met a couple of Irish dudes who were heading out to a Irish bar for happy hour and to catch some sort of game (unfamiliar to me) on the large televisions. I hadn’t planned on doing anything that night on the account of several continuous nights of drinking and the fact I would be starting my dive course the following day. But I figured the hell with it. I’ll meet these blokes for a few early beers and call it a night nice and early. That’s a fine idea.
I get back to my hostel and change into some comfortable but scrubby looking clothes and journey back into town at about 1900 hours. I met my two Irish friends at the Irish bar where they were hanging out with the rest of their, ahh, Irish Rugby team. Oh, this is interesting. I thought I was meeting two dudes from bungee for a couple of drinks but in fact I showed up for a little more than that. I end up shaking about fifteen different hands and explaining the brief history of me, many times over. After the compound greetings and jovial exchanges I found myself continually supplied with free beer from my new mates, the Irish Rugby team. I still have all intentions of heading out early as I have eight hours of classroom stuff starting at 0730, for the dive course. On the other hand, I’m hanging out with a fun crowd that takes pride in drinking and behaving in loud volumes. I’m not necessarily a loud person myself, I’m more kind of chill, but I am from Wisconsin, which as far as I’m concerned is the Ireland of the United States, for drinking purposes. They were also the most supportive group of people I’d come across yet, considering the Army and all. (Mostly I’d been trying to keep that to myself, unsuccessfully). Several hours later and god knows how many drinks, I finally separate myself from the group. Not an easy task. By this time it’s a blurry 0130. I had planned on being back by 2100. Either way I begin the staggering marathon back to my hostel. Do remember this is a 30 minute walk given normal conditions. More often than not I like drunk walking. Its night time it’s peaceful and I can let my saturated mind wander. The down side is that I will become completely oblivious as to where I’m going. This time is no different. The sky is full of stars (for some reason Kuwait rarely has visible stars), the air is comfortable and I’m content. Left foot right foot my limbs are placed on auto pilot. Some fifty minutes later I’m still walking in the same direction. Huh. It’s now very apparent to me that I’ve passed my turn so I head back in the other direction for fifteen minutes or so and I still don’t recognize my turn so I head back again in another direction. This is when walking is no longer fun. I’ve determined that I have no fucking clue where I’m going and my blissful thoughts are now being replaced by aggravated concentration. Where the hell is my street? What is the name of my Street? Shit. By nearly 0300 I finally find the hostel, which to my surprise is locked up by an unfamiliar gate. Where the hell did this gate come from? So now I’m left to create my own obstacle course of jumping, climbing and crawling to get into this inaccessible fortress (tearing my colored T-shirt in the process) and finally completing my stagger into bed. This is the night I decide to change hostels. Five hours later I will be sitting in a classroom supporting my right eyelid with two fingers and an elbow.
I don’t have much to say about the next couple of days except for the fact that I was grossly unprepared to remain seated for eight hours at a time. At least the second day had a bunch of pool exercises. My classmates included a Scottish girl and two Polish guys. The Scottish girl had some sort of peninsula shaped blemish on her chin. She was cute but self-conscious about her piece of geography. The Polish guys were extremely nice and were in constant competition with each other for who could ask the most amount of questions at one time with out receiving an answer. Also, there was an American who could not decide on a single posture and kept poking himself in the eye with two fingers.
The big thing I planned for this holliday was my scuba diving trip in the Great Barrier Reef. I had never done scuba before and I didn’t want to have someone hold my hand the whole time so I decided to book a trip that would allow me to get certified before I spend a couple of nights out on the reef. That was a long sentence. The only down side of this venture was that it was a five day commitment and wouldn’t leave me enough time to check out Byron Bay, for a little surf and a little party. In any case I decided it would be a worthy sacrifice for one of the world’s seven wonders! After we completed the two days of classroom stuff we headed out for three days and two nights on the boat. The Scottish girl who I had drinks with the night earlier got sick on the way to the Reef so she decided to end the certification process and not transfer boats. The Polish guys were still nice and still inquisitive. We completed our certification after the first four dives and the rest of the trip would be reserved for diving on your own. However, I never made it that far. In all of my self-appointed glory I managed to perforate my ear doing a back flip with a little too much spin off the front of the boat. I’ve done plenty of stupid things in my day and anticipated zero threat with this endeavor but one way or another I hit the water wrong (with side of my head) and ruptured my eardrum. I seriously have more control of my body than this freak performance. A couple of hours later (after the ringing subsided) I tried to dive again but my ear was met with sharp stinging pains only a couple of meters down so I abandoned the dive. I kept thinking about trying the next dive or the dive after that but my ear kept bleeding and kept serving no functional purpose whatsoever. Needless to say that event ended all water activities. No surfing, no whitewater rafting, and no more diving. That sucked and was one of only two downers for the whole trip. But things could have been worse.
(will finish with the blathering details tomorrow)
~Rolligun
Rolligun Class of ’97: ”How long have you been here?”
Rolligun w/o nametag: “What have you been doing?”
Rolligun Voted most likely to ask questions: “Where are you from?”
And that was the question right there! That was the question that let the cat out of the bag and opened the door to all things weird.
Eccentric Girl delighted with the depths of the question: “In this life or my last life?”
Rolligun smiling with anticipation: “Let’s start with your first life”
This was most definitely an interesting conversation as I learned about her sixth and seventh senses, her uncommitted marriage to a guy traveling around China, and her explanations of concepts such as free will, fortitude and sacrifice. As interesting as it was talking to her, it was also quite exhausting because the simplest things (or so I thought) would turn into another expansive discussion. It was like taking test and every question was either long division or essay. That’s best I can do to explain it. Maybe I just wasn’t deep enough to keep up with her, although I did hang in there for over two hours. The more we talked the more I also began to notice how her physical characteristics began to compliment her unusual beleifs. For example, her neck was bit longer than standard and stood very erect. Similar to that of a person who recovered from a car accident (or perhaps she was once a leaf eating animal in the savannah). Her eyes were sharp and extremely open (I had already asked her if she took ecstasy earlier and she hadn’t). Now I’m a mildly eccentric person myself, but she was definitely winning as I was getting a little freaked out by her. I began imagining her placing a curse on me…just because she could. I had to wrap this up and head back. I had long walk and I wanted to wake up early and plan some adventures. Anyway, she might have been from Czech Republic.
Some thirty-two hours later I was bungee jumping in the Rainforest. What’s up A.J. Hacket the father of Bungee? The platform was a large arch 44m in height and nestled comfortably in the valley of lot’s of trees. It looked like a mini-version of the St. Louis Arch. I got picked up in the morning by a little van that had the letters A – J in large bold fonts all over the place. If nothing else it was easy to recognize that that was my ride. Most thoughtful really. I had planned on spending the whole day out there as I knew one jump would not be enough. So I purchased the super-combo-unlimited package (something like that). This dazzling arrangement of promotions came with all sorts of conveniences and extras but there was only one thing I was concerned with. Unlimited jumps. That’s all that’s important. I’ve been sky diving before, but had never done bungee. As far as I’m concerned it’s a pretty simple process with little opportunity for confusion. I had wished the jump was a little higher (New Zealand has one that’s 125M!!!) but there is one important factor between bungee and sky diving. That factor is point of reference, a visual. When sky diving you’ll hit speeds of say 140 mph or so but there isn’t any physical comparison and it feels more as if you’re floating. With bungee you have the rocks, the trees, and the ground all rushing through your eyeballs in a flood of visual stimulation and all in a matter of seconds. It’s a hell of a time! For an extra fifteen dollars I was able to go up a couple of meters higher, have the bungee attached to my chest and run off the roof. I recommend that. I also met a couple of Irish dudes who were heading out to a Irish bar for happy hour and to catch some sort of game (unfamiliar to me) on the large televisions. I hadn’t planned on doing anything that night on the account of several continuous nights of drinking and the fact I would be starting my dive course the following day. But I figured the hell with it. I’ll meet these blokes for a few early beers and call it a night nice and early. That’s a fine idea.
I get back to my hostel and change into some comfortable but scrubby looking clothes and journey back into town at about 1900 hours. I met my two Irish friends at the Irish bar where they were hanging out with the rest of their, ahh, Irish Rugby team. Oh, this is interesting. I thought I was meeting two dudes from bungee for a couple of drinks but in fact I showed up for a little more than that. I end up shaking about fifteen different hands and explaining the brief history of me, many times over. After the compound greetings and jovial exchanges I found myself continually supplied with free beer from my new mates, the Irish Rugby team. I still have all intentions of heading out early as I have eight hours of classroom stuff starting at 0730, for the dive course. On the other hand, I’m hanging out with a fun crowd that takes pride in drinking and behaving in loud volumes. I’m not necessarily a loud person myself, I’m more kind of chill, but I am from Wisconsin, which as far as I’m concerned is the Ireland of the United States, for drinking purposes. They were also the most supportive group of people I’d come across yet, considering the Army and all. (Mostly I’d been trying to keep that to myself, unsuccessfully). Several hours later and god knows how many drinks, I finally separate myself from the group. Not an easy task. By this time it’s a blurry 0130. I had planned on being back by 2100. Either way I begin the staggering marathon back to my hostel. Do remember this is a 30 minute walk given normal conditions. More often than not I like drunk walking. Its night time it’s peaceful and I can let my saturated mind wander. The down side is that I will become completely oblivious as to where I’m going. This time is no different. The sky is full of stars (for some reason Kuwait rarely has visible stars), the air is comfortable and I’m content. Left foot right foot my limbs are placed on auto pilot. Some fifty minutes later I’m still walking in the same direction. Huh. It’s now very apparent to me that I’ve passed my turn so I head back in the other direction for fifteen minutes or so and I still don’t recognize my turn so I head back again in another direction. This is when walking is no longer fun. I’ve determined that I have no fucking clue where I’m going and my blissful thoughts are now being replaced by aggravated concentration. Where the hell is my street? What is the name of my Street? Shit. By nearly 0300 I finally find the hostel, which to my surprise is locked up by an unfamiliar gate. Where the hell did this gate come from? So now I’m left to create my own obstacle course of jumping, climbing and crawling to get into this inaccessible fortress (tearing my colored T-shirt in the process) and finally completing my stagger into bed. This is the night I decide to change hostels. Five hours later I will be sitting in a classroom supporting my right eyelid with two fingers and an elbow.
I don’t have much to say about the next couple of days except for the fact that I was grossly unprepared to remain seated for eight hours at a time. At least the second day had a bunch of pool exercises. My classmates included a Scottish girl and two Polish guys. The Scottish girl had some sort of peninsula shaped blemish on her chin. She was cute but self-conscious about her piece of geography. The Polish guys were extremely nice and were in constant competition with each other for who could ask the most amount of questions at one time with out receiving an answer. Also, there was an American who could not decide on a single posture and kept poking himself in the eye with two fingers.
The big thing I planned for this holliday was my scuba diving trip in the Great Barrier Reef. I had never done scuba before and I didn’t want to have someone hold my hand the whole time so I decided to book a trip that would allow me to get certified before I spend a couple of nights out on the reef. That was a long sentence. The only down side of this venture was that it was a five day commitment and wouldn’t leave me enough time to check out Byron Bay, for a little surf and a little party. In any case I decided it would be a worthy sacrifice for one of the world’s seven wonders! After we completed the two days of classroom stuff we headed out for three days and two nights on the boat. The Scottish girl who I had drinks with the night earlier got sick on the way to the Reef so she decided to end the certification process and not transfer boats. The Polish guys were still nice and still inquisitive. We completed our certification after the first four dives and the rest of the trip would be reserved for diving on your own. However, I never made it that far. In all of my self-appointed glory I managed to perforate my ear doing a back flip with a little too much spin off the front of the boat. I’ve done plenty of stupid things in my day and anticipated zero threat with this endeavor but one way or another I hit the water wrong (with side of my head) and ruptured my eardrum. I seriously have more control of my body than this freak performance. A couple of hours later (after the ringing subsided) I tried to dive again but my ear was met with sharp stinging pains only a couple of meters down so I abandoned the dive. I kept thinking about trying the next dive or the dive after that but my ear kept bleeding and kept serving no functional purpose whatsoever. Needless to say that event ended all water activities. No surfing, no whitewater rafting, and no more diving. That sucked and was one of only two downers for the whole trip. But things could have been worse.
(will finish with the blathering details tomorrow)
~Rolligun
posted by Rolligun at 9:52 AM
6 Comments:
ouch man. that sucks the ass. ever think of earplugs? swimmers use em. anyhow, diving the reef is awesome. i got to do so out near lady musgrave island... i think that was the name of it. this was 13 years ago, and i am dying to go again. sorry to hear about the ear, but glad to hear the hooligans took you in.
There were two issues with going in the water, the first was infection (saltwater is full argumentative organisims) and the second, with diving anyway, was that I wouldn't have been able to "equalize" the pressure of the air in my passageways.
"sorry about the ear" ehh, it will work itself out or something.
yeah, i forgot about the air equalization. that would cause some pain to a torn ear drum/canal whatever.
I just came across your site at random...sounds like an awesome vacation - I just learned to swim a few years ago (and I'm almost 40 now) so am dying to go scuba diving!
Rolli~
You are just gonna have to go back! I don't know how to swim either but yet I went to Hawaii and the Capt. on the boat we were on took my sorry scared self snorkeling!! I like that those Irish shared an evening with you. I think that would have been a highlight of the trip!! ( ;
Chud, I lost out on several dives because of it, still kind of pissed about that. What are the odds?
Mike,
It was definately a great time! So get crackin, you have a another world to explore!
Janie,
I'd like too actually, but if I did I would do the backpack thing up the coast and venture over to New Zealand, I'm just not sure if I want to invest the time/money for it and sacrafice other things. I decide what's important. Either way, I'm going to Europe this fall for a month, so that comes first.
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