Wall-ets not the greatest, it could be purse
Excuse the terrible pun, but a small piece of laughter is all I need on this dark, dismal day. Let me start from the beginning. While roaming about in the wonderful australian sunshine, stopping here or there, flitting from cafe to book shop and overall enjoying vibrations of this city, myself and Miss Emily Meyers stop in the town square for a rest and to follow up on a few potential apartments.
As we sit, getting comfortable on a quaint bench overlooking a mulberry tree, I take out my camera and wallet, as everyone knows leaving so much gear underneath your keester will surly leave 'ass-dents'. So withdrew them I did, and placed them aside in the safe circumference of peripheral vision. As Emily gets a fairly keen offer on the other end of the phone, I rise up, partly in joy, but mostly to see if I can find a better wireless signal in the 'Fre hot Spot' (get it? Fremantle? Fre? Hot spot?...meh) Whilst roaming, Emily progresses to another telephone call, chatting away and becoming deeply and passionately involved in the conversation as females tend to do on the telephone. But what's this?! A short african-australian lady leans down, seemingly picks something up off our bench, and continues to walk.
Josh: 'Wo, wo, wo!!, what are you doing?!'
Suspect: 'Wo, wo yourself mate I was just leaning over'
Josh: 'Hmmm....curious... sorry then'
Suspect walks for about 20 seconds as I search for my recently evaporated wallet.
Josh 'Wait! You stole my wallet!'
Suspect 'I didn't steal anything mate, I'm no thief!'
I proceed to check her person and baggage, where nothing turns up. And this chick is a twig...not alot of bodily crevasses for hiding. I tell her how sketchy it looked for her to lean over and pick something up, and then my wallet is missing, but with no wallet on her, and her getting ever more aggressive, what's a poor small town Canadian to do?
Did she take it? I think so. Emily I searched garbage cans, under signs....in trees! you name it. No wallet.
That impending feeling of doom when you lose something important, many of us have had it I'm sure, is one of the worst. Initially it's the shock of 'Oh my god it can't be gone', then a strange calm thinking it's probably just fallen somewhere like usual, then a frantic panic of searching, then the blanketing acceptance and distress as you realize in totality what just happened. This process of emotions took about 45 minutes. We went back to the room, double checked, signed up for a new bank card, filed a police report with a very courteous Aussie officer, bought a new wallet with passport withdrawn cash and then felt the need to release this recent story to the Internet.
Hating it? Very much. Between house and job searching, a lost wallet is the last thing you want...other than a leg amputation, which brings me to story number two.
On the pus side
About 6 days ago I flicked a very, minute, teeny-tiny, nano-scopic scab off my left upper thigh. One of those things you don't think twice about. The next day, as this area is a little red and tender, I figure it must have been a brush with some crazy poisonous Australian seaweed, or maybe a little bite by the many creatures we share our hostel room with. No worries mate. By day three and four, this little spot has developed into a geyser like protrudance, radiating infectious warmth from beneath my pant leg. Of course, I took things into my own semi-amateur medical hands and went to work. Starting on the outside of this softball sized lump, I press and squeeze until my face is brighter red then this gargantuan growth. Slowly, ever so slowly, various colours we often associate with maladies greet the daylight...a syrupy green, cream white, deep purple topped with vampiric red. It was beautiful. The colours of a septic rainbow.
Normally when the pressure in a system is released the problem gets better...nuclear reactors, constipation, make-up sex....but on this certain affliction it was not the case. After squeezing as much of these deceased blood cells and bacterium out, the area inflamed anew with an intense burning and deep down soreness. My favorite part of uncertain ailments is the 360 amateur diagnoses you receive while showing off your wound.
'Mate, that's a tropical ulcer, incurable!'
'Probably some sort of spider bite, heaps of them out here'
'Is that an abscess? Ewww'
'Maybe you have leprosy?'
All very valid and intriguing points, and I weighed each of them equally. Now most reading say, Fool! see your way to the nearest doctor immediately. Of course in the comfort of socialized medicine and as a citizen sitting in the snow back in Canada, of course I would! This mofo hurt! One run of some basic antibiotics and your laughing (instead of weeping, which I was both out of my eyes and leg crater). Here in Australia I attempted to see a doctor around Christmas time when I thought I had cracked ribs (I never actually found out but it hurt like a bitch) but after hearing the price tag for a consultation, turned foot. Found some good painkillers and was back to working order in about a month. This was my worry...$20 antibiotics + $160 for a doctor to say 'Mate, is that an abscess? Ew. You need antibiotics'
I did stop off at the pharmacy and ask for some advice, which of course was 'take antibiotics'. The main problem, in my professional opinion, is that I didn't give this bad boy a fair chance to do it's thing, instead I viciously attacked it with pokes and prods, squeezes and squishes. Yesterday I had a heart to heart with this mound of infected flesh, gave it a little peroxide bath, and told it I would leave him alone. Today most of the pain surrounding my limb is gone. There is some residual leakage of various consistencies, but we're talking ping pong ball instead of bowling. Talk to your wounds. Clean them. Go to the doctor if you don't want to be a man and carry your testosterone around in one of those french perfume vials, only using it for special occasions.
Me? I'm going to pour some vodka on my leg, then finish the bottle, smoke a cigar and toss a caber. Not really at all. I'm going to put some ice on my leg and see if anyone has any spare library cards or something to fill my empty wallet
G'night gang
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Last month's Recap!
G'day proud people of earth!
My head first foray back into blogging has seen over a month pass by, call it good down home apathy or just saving up a crack pot of good adventures to pour over these digital pages...
Goodbye Melbourne
All was arranged for a quick get away from my city away from home, Melbourne. Feelings ranged from overjoyed escapism to mournful separation anxiety. The amount of time one spends in a place, even with the undertones of wanting to move on, has a very important effect on material living arrangements as well as mentality. I spent 8 months toiling on the mean streets of this city, getting to know the backwater cafes, best routes for a run, best place to catch the sunset and cheapest place for a beer. You take these small effects for granted when you leave, realizing you're a small fish in brand new pond.
Over the course of my 'backpacking' in Melbourne, I went from a hostel, to a new (but much dirtier) hostel, to a share house and then to a comparable palace as far as limited funds internationals go. You could say each move was a positive progression towards 'an ideal living arrangement', but each place had it's own wonderful nuances. Fresh off the boat, Base Backpackers gave me a range of great people who stayed friends right up until now, and the same can be said about Coffee Palace, although my interest in hostel living was waning after 3 months. When my Ecuadorian friend Jamie (and I wish you good luck wherever you are the moment amigo) found us a share house, this was a godsend, as attraction has no better friend than comparison. Nice backyard, good people, only sharing with one human being instead of ten and your own space to cook, romp, frolic or whatever your into. Of course this suited for a couple months, but as people moved on, dirt accumulated and rent pesteringly hopped out of your wallet the magic tends to dissipate. None-the-less, props to 57 Fawkner and Rest In Peace, Shelob, giant spider/house mascot.
I've talked at length about the wonderful living arrangement I happened on after Christmas, so I won't reiterate. The main points were 24/7 liquor store around the corner, great house with all the amenities, well paid by two jobs and surrounded by great friends and social gatherings. This January to March period will most likely remain the most comfortable I will be in Australia, and thank you to Barbarino's for the great times, Kathy & JP for the wonderfully spider free abode, Chris & the australian tax payer for the grossly overpaid traffic controlling job and everyone I met in Melbourne who made it memorable. Clouds and rain aside, this a great city, with great coffee and good opportunities.
So why bail? Australia is 7.7 million sq km, and occupying one city of that vast space for an entire year is a pretty poor effort. So it was high time to pack the bags and head west....
Tas-Maniacs
We were graced with presence of one Ali Corrigan the last week we lived in Melbourne. After a exciting jaunt along the east coast, which was mostly filled with surf, goon and merry making, she plunkered down in Melbourne with yours truly for a new and exciting adventure! Now what's more exciting than a tour around Tasmania with wind and rain ripping at our jackets while we climbed near insurmountable terrain, gazing upon rugged vistas in the lush and green national parks? Nothing. That's right.
This was 3 days before i was due to leave melbourne, so timing was everything. Luckily the two day tour and flight coincided nicely to arrive, tour about and fly back in time for the drive to Perth. As some of you that have read this blog may know, some of my short-comings include:
Responsibility
Punctuality
Leg presses
So the flight to tasmania leaves at 6:15, which is only realized by the both of us at around 5:00pm. Our mistake. Luckily we make it to the airport at 5:45pm, but alas, tis not enough. These budget tickets (still on the plus side of $150) make little leeway for truant flyers, so after much heated debate and some sulking, we are refused entry onto the flight and sent back into the melbourne rain. No flight. No tours. No Tasmania. The disappointment was only quelled by the hilarity of the situation as we shuffled back to the shuttle bus and watched our plane fly into the damp, dark sky.
Down, but not beaten, we booked a wine tour for the next day and it was very pleasing. Lots of wine, a meal and some beautiful country side. Tasmania was a big item on my 'Oz checklist', but let's hope it is still there in a couple years when I return, on time, with a smile and full wallet. Thank you miss Ali for keeping your chin up. <3
Melbourne to Perth
There's a system of vehicle relocation in Australia that's actually pretty rad. For one to five dollars a day you agree to pick up this vehicle at point A and have it at point B in six or seven days. Most of the time some of the gas will be covered in this arrangement, so naturally that's what this happy pack of campers arranged for. Originally, and luckily not finally, we had four wheel drive toyota booked. Excellent say Ye, what's better than a 4WD in the Australian outback? Read on. I got a call three days prior to departure saying the vehicle has been cancelled, sorry about your luck. WTF? says I, as a jobs are quit and luggage is packed. I call back that same day and the good people at the relocation company arrange a camper van. Worse mileage, slower and definitely not made for off road travel, as well as leaving a day earlier. Fine, says I, just happy to have something. Imagine our jaw dropping surprise when we rock up and realize it's a house on wheels! Lying somewhere between a Winnebago and sleeper van this monster had it all. Television, shower, microwave, two beds, toilet, just have a look---->
http://www.blue-travel.net/apollo/images/aumh6_0.jpg
(not our children)
Imagine driving through the vast nothingness that is the australian desert in a small truck or this casa del moto. As we drove we played, we laughed, we scrabbled, we cooked, we filled the fridge and would park it at night, plug in and enjoy all the amenities of a small trailer home! The drive, landscape-wise, was nothing you would put on a post card, unless you specialized in treeless, flat and arid postcards, which is a bit of a niche market. But combined with almighty power of our sweet ride, the 4500km drive was cruisy and enjoyable. Everyone got a turn at the wheel, topping out at a cool 110km/hr, and we thoroughly enjoyed the back country road houses and gas stations along the way. In the end, the snacking and petrol costs ended up being more than a flight, but how many people can say they darted across australia in a mini home without killing any kangaroos? Now at least four.
News on Perth (or Fremantle, as the big city still beckons in the horizon for $1.70 train ride), will have to come on the next post, as I'm back to paying for the Internet and am currently watching the window beep at me telling me to pay up or clear off. Starting fresh is always a challenge, but challenges are adventures in their own right, and I do like a good adventure. So until next time!
Ps. Been gone a year circa April 29. Boo Ya.
My head first foray back into blogging has seen over a month pass by, call it good down home apathy or just saving up a crack pot of good adventures to pour over these digital pages...
Goodbye Melbourne
All was arranged for a quick get away from my city away from home, Melbourne. Feelings ranged from overjoyed escapism to mournful separation anxiety. The amount of time one spends in a place, even with the undertones of wanting to move on, has a very important effect on material living arrangements as well as mentality. I spent 8 months toiling on the mean streets of this city, getting to know the backwater cafes, best routes for a run, best place to catch the sunset and cheapest place for a beer. You take these small effects for granted when you leave, realizing you're a small fish in brand new pond.
Over the course of my 'backpacking' in Melbourne, I went from a hostel, to a new (but much dirtier) hostel, to a share house and then to a comparable palace as far as limited funds internationals go. You could say each move was a positive progression towards 'an ideal living arrangement', but each place had it's own wonderful nuances. Fresh off the boat, Base Backpackers gave me a range of great people who stayed friends right up until now, and the same can be said about Coffee Palace, although my interest in hostel living was waning after 3 months. When my Ecuadorian friend Jamie (and I wish you good luck wherever you are the moment amigo) found us a share house, this was a godsend, as attraction has no better friend than comparison. Nice backyard, good people, only sharing with one human being instead of ten and your own space to cook, romp, frolic or whatever your into. Of course this suited for a couple months, but as people moved on, dirt accumulated and rent pesteringly hopped out of your wallet the magic tends to dissipate. None-the-less, props to 57 Fawkner and Rest In Peace, Shelob, giant spider/house mascot.
I've talked at length about the wonderful living arrangement I happened on after Christmas, so I won't reiterate. The main points were 24/7 liquor store around the corner, great house with all the amenities, well paid by two jobs and surrounded by great friends and social gatherings. This January to March period will most likely remain the most comfortable I will be in Australia, and thank you to Barbarino's for the great times, Kathy & JP for the wonderfully spider free abode, Chris & the australian tax payer for the grossly overpaid traffic controlling job and everyone I met in Melbourne who made it memorable. Clouds and rain aside, this a great city, with great coffee and good opportunities.
So why bail? Australia is 7.7 million sq km, and occupying one city of that vast space for an entire year is a pretty poor effort. So it was high time to pack the bags and head west....
Tas-Maniacs
We were graced with presence of one Ali Corrigan the last week we lived in Melbourne. After a exciting jaunt along the east coast, which was mostly filled with surf, goon and merry making, she plunkered down in Melbourne with yours truly for a new and exciting adventure! Now what's more exciting than a tour around Tasmania with wind and rain ripping at our jackets while we climbed near insurmountable terrain, gazing upon rugged vistas in the lush and green national parks? Nothing. That's right.
This was 3 days before i was due to leave melbourne, so timing was everything. Luckily the two day tour and flight coincided nicely to arrive, tour about and fly back in time for the drive to Perth. As some of you that have read this blog may know, some of my short-comings include:
Responsibility
Punctuality
Leg presses
So the flight to tasmania leaves at 6:15, which is only realized by the both of us at around 5:00pm. Our mistake. Luckily we make it to the airport at 5:45pm, but alas, tis not enough. These budget tickets (still on the plus side of $150) make little leeway for truant flyers, so after much heated debate and some sulking, we are refused entry onto the flight and sent back into the melbourne rain. No flight. No tours. No Tasmania. The disappointment was only quelled by the hilarity of the situation as we shuffled back to the shuttle bus and watched our plane fly into the damp, dark sky.
Down, but not beaten, we booked a wine tour for the next day and it was very pleasing. Lots of wine, a meal and some beautiful country side. Tasmania was a big item on my 'Oz checklist', but let's hope it is still there in a couple years when I return, on time, with a smile and full wallet. Thank you miss Ali for keeping your chin up. <3
Melbourne to Perth
There's a system of vehicle relocation in Australia that's actually pretty rad. For one to five dollars a day you agree to pick up this vehicle at point A and have it at point B in six or seven days. Most of the time some of the gas will be covered in this arrangement, so naturally that's what this happy pack of campers arranged for. Originally, and luckily not finally, we had four wheel drive toyota booked. Excellent say Ye, what's better than a 4WD in the Australian outback? Read on. I got a call three days prior to departure saying the vehicle has been cancelled, sorry about your luck. WTF? says I, as a jobs are quit and luggage is packed. I call back that same day and the good people at the relocation company arrange a camper van. Worse mileage, slower and definitely not made for off road travel, as well as leaving a day earlier. Fine, says I, just happy to have something. Imagine our jaw dropping surprise when we rock up and realize it's a house on wheels! Lying somewhere between a Winnebago and sleeper van this monster had it all. Television, shower, microwave, two beds, toilet, just have a look---->
http://www.blue-travel.net/apollo/images/aumh6_0.jpg
(not our children)
Imagine driving through the vast nothingness that is the australian desert in a small truck or this casa del moto. As we drove we played, we laughed, we scrabbled, we cooked, we filled the fridge and would park it at night, plug in and enjoy all the amenities of a small trailer home! The drive, landscape-wise, was nothing you would put on a post card, unless you specialized in treeless, flat and arid postcards, which is a bit of a niche market. But combined with almighty power of our sweet ride, the 4500km drive was cruisy and enjoyable. Everyone got a turn at the wheel, topping out at a cool 110km/hr, and we thoroughly enjoyed the back country road houses and gas stations along the way. In the end, the snacking and petrol costs ended up being more than a flight, but how many people can say they darted across australia in a mini home without killing any kangaroos? Now at least four.
News on Perth (or Fremantle, as the big city still beckons in the horizon for $1.70 train ride), will have to come on the next post, as I'm back to paying for the Internet and am currently watching the window beep at me telling me to pay up or clear off. Starting fresh is always a challenge, but challenges are adventures in their own right, and I do like a good adventure. So until next time!
Ps. Been gone a year circa April 29. Boo Ya.
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