Tag Archives: vacation

home is in my heart…

Posted on by under America, Exercise, Family, Food, Friends, Kids, Memories, Nature, Photos, Thoughts, Travel

The saying about the residence of heart and home is true, but I can honestly claim several places that I consider home. When I miss each of these places, I sometimes wonder if I left a piece of my heart behind, but I think it’s more like I took them inside my heart, and carry them around with me wherever I am.

Before I left for Australia, I lived in Pennsylvania for almost five years, working as the housekeeper of this camp. GWH is very dear to me, both the people and the camp itself. So, having missed the last Labor Day Conference, I was thrilled to make it to this one.

As part of the “young people’s group”, my friends and I stayed in the Den (where the snacks are located), where we enjoyed the added benefit of having an air-conditioner. The weekend wasn’t all sunny, but no matter the sunshine content, the air was swelteringly muggy. You know, that wonderful feel of walking through soup.

My friend C. had never been to GWH, and was pleased to find that our weekend residence is where all of the camp directors stay… which means the costumes for Girl’s Camp. She loved trying on the hats, as you’ll see.

It’s such a big conference that you can never spend a long enough time talking to anyone, so I compromise, and do lots of running around hugging people, assuring them that I’ll see them again before the weekend’s over. Old friends that I’ve known since before they had their four children, or newlyweds that have welcomed their first baby. Much older friends that are the support in the local church, and I keep a close ear/eye out for how their health is doing. If they go home to be with the Lord before I see them next, they will be blessed, but I will miss their hugs.

My dearest cousin was able to get out on Saturday, so we could enjoy her and her baby, as well as get her in on the Ultimate Frisbee fun. How many years has it been since we had all my cousins on that field? Way too long. I remember a year when the Funks and Dingers made up at least 10-15 of the Frisbee participants. And I will continue to warn the guys, do NOT underestimate the pregnant one that’s cherry-picking in the end zone. She will take you out.

I got to take a wander down the hill, one afternoon, and revisit some of the buildings that I once cleaned from top to bottom. The discovery of a fancy-schmancy new coffee maker in the Old Dining Room was a bit of a surprise, but I like the paintings on the wall. I wonder if anyone I know did them. The Welcome sign on the front door hasn’t changed in the last 70 years, though I remember that it took me three or four years to notice the pineapple design, or realize that pineapples are symbolic of hospitality. Who knew?

My interest in floral photography hasn’t let up, and I took advantage of every interesting bloom I could find. I will furthermore admit that the bumblebee shot didn’t look that cool until I played around with the effects on Picasa. I am not THAT good a photographer. But I finally figured out how to highlight the buzzy little fellow. Other plant life drew my attention in the main meeting hall, behind the Dining Hall, and in front of Nancy’s house. I still think those flowers look like someone drew on them with a Sharpie.

My bruises from the weekend are starting to fade. I got a bit sore after playing Ultimate (haven’t played since sometime in Australia), and then I bashed myself up a bit more playing volleyball for three nights in a row. I haven’t played vball in well OVER a year, because the local court in Emerald got flooded before I arrived. That and Aussies don’t seem to play volleyball very often. I know, it’s sad. I only have one or two pics of the games in the Annex, but I sure wish I had some pics from the final guys versus girls game. With about thirty people to a team, the guys not being allowed to spike, and the ref being determined to keep his son-in-law in line, it was quite hilarious.

I also got to go on a short hike to Caledonia, but we had a dinner deadline for two of the girls, so we weren’t out for THAT long. Muddy, steamy, and just nice to be back in Pennsylvania. Though, there was a bit of a speed competition going on between the cousins, but they had to slow up for a family photo, at one of the bridges.

Babies and kids, seemingly everywhere. Some of them, I just met, and others, I’ve known them since babyhood. How did they get so big? How did all my friends come to have children that are SO cute? I cannot resist taking pictures when they’re around, because who doesn’t want to capture this time in their lives?

At our Second Annual Justin-Sponsored Picnic, after the speech, and after the guys made sure the hotdogs were thoroughly cooked, I got to hang out with two of the girls that were making friends. One had just learned to point at her eye and nose, so there was a near-catastrophe when she tried to point at someone else’s nose. We switched to “where’s her nose?”, instead of “where’s her eyes?”, and then they began to play follow-the-leader around the picnic tables. Such a precious age.

My time there wasn’t really long enough, but I know I’ll be back, sometime in the New Year, and then I can talk to more people, one-on-one. There are friendships that never grow old, and you just keep making them stronger and stronger. These are the ones that you go “home” for. Because when I’m with those that I love, I am home.

the prayer of my heart…

Posted on by under America, Friends, Memories, Music, Nature, Photos, Thoughts, Travel

I know what you’re thinking. You heard that I was going to the beach for the weekend, and so, you say, “Everyone goes on weekend trips to the beach. Blah, blah, blah, it’s all the same. Nothing different about this one.” But you would be wrong.

Fourteen years ago, I was eighteen years old, and thrilled to be invited to a Bible conference with my friends. Even better, I knew it was at the beach, and I’d have lots of friends to spend time with. What could be better than that? I thought I was as old as anything, though I was actually a tad young for the conference. However, when my younger brother turned eighteen, a few years later, I didn’t think he was old enough to attend.  : )

I was still too young to really see the stigma that gets attached to the phrase “singles conference”, but as soon as I discovered it, then I could throw down the gauntlet with anyone who thought our conference was one of “those”. You’ve heard it before, I don’t need to explain. But let me tell you, would I be attending this same conference, this many years later, if I thought that our only purpose was to “spouse-shop”?

Our conference on Seabrook Island has always been, first and foremost, a time to listen to a wonderful speaker share with us from the Word of God and to fellowship with other single believers who also want to grow in their walk with the Lord. Those first-time attendees who show up with any other intent will quickly find out who vehemently we feel on the subject, and if their only purpose is to find someone to marry, they usually stop coming. [Clarification: We aren't against meeting a special someone at this conference, but that isn't the PURPOSE of the conference. Most of our regular attendees will also tell you that you know you've met the right one if you're willing to GIVE UP Seabrook in order to marry them. I hope this puts the subject in the proper perspective for you.]

Aside from this awesome time spent in God’s Word, the beach is our playground, but even if it’s a public beach, it’s in a secluded area, and not directly on the Atlantic Ocean. Located where a cove meets a river that eventually reaches the ocean, the dolphins love to frolic in the quietude off our beach, and we love to watch them, by day or by night.

Fourteen years after my first conference, with two per year, I’ve missed a total of three. For one, I was in Indonesia (’00), and for both conferences in 2011, I was in Australia. As far as I’m concerned, being out of the country is the only good excuse for missing one. And despite talking to my friends on Skype, last year, when they were at Seabrook and I was in Australia, I’m still a little miffed at one of my friends for not inventing a Star Trek transporter, so that I could come home for it.

But after a year’s absence, I was seeing this well-known and very much loved location with new eyes. The beach tends to always look the same, so why take pictures, year after year? I was so happy to be back on my home turf that taking pictures of the boardwalks and cabins were fair game, when I hadn’t taken many pictures of them in years.

In my first six or eight years of attendance, I liked nothing better than arriving at the campground and running up and down the boardwalks, either barefoot or in flip-flops. There’s a method to it, so I didn’t fall very often. Now, with mono still dragging me down a bit, I only ran when there was a particularly dark spot on the boardwalk, late at night. Doctor’s orders: don’t get exhausted, and don’t get stressed out.

To the furtherance of that aim, my two friends and I drove down from Pennsylvania (about a 12 hr trip) in Rachel’s car (different Rachel), because mine’s a stick shift, and we all needed to be able to drive. Gone are the days when I can drive the whole trip, including after an exhausting weekend. We drove down on Thursday and stayed in a hotel for the night, so that we’d have plenty of energy the next day. And since it’s still a rarity for me to stay in a hotel, especially without my parents, I was childishly excited about having the whole room to ourselves.

On Friday, we visited the Charleston Market in the afternoon, had some ice cream from Marble Slab for “dinner” (yes, I know, that could be considered heresy, for those of us that always eat at Gilligan’s that night), and then drove onto the island while it was still daylight. Driving under the trees that overhand the roads, with their streamers of Spanish moss is beautiful in daylight, but slightly creepy after dark. The tree trunks are encroaching on the roads, so I’m really afraid that if I accidentally veer off the road, one of them will take me out, rather than the other way around. They’re that big, I don’t think a car would have an effect on them.

Our cabin had a beautiful view of the beach, as it was set high on stilts, and was on the “front row”, overhanging the cross, volleyball court, and fire pit that sits between the dunes. Well, they’re not large dunes, as compared to some beaches, but I’m not sure what else to call them. They’re covered with the grasses and reeds that we’ve been told that if we pick any, we’ll be fined $500 each, or some such number. Now, I understand it’s to preserve the dunes and keep them from eroding, but really, I’d rather pick up shells, if we ever got any worth keeping. Besides, those sand hills are infested with sand spurs, which most of us wouldn’t willingly tangle with. They’re painful to dig out, if you get them stuck in you. Just ask Harold.

I arrived at the meetings feeling a bit dried out, spiritually (understatement of the century), but praying that what I heard would really hit home. The Lord answered that prayer, because from the first meeting to the last, I was on the edge of my seat, trying to take in everything that our two speakers had to share with us. Mr. S was talking to us about the pursuit of holiness, starting us off in 2 Corinthians.

Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God. –2 Cor. 7:1

From there, he went on to ask us if we are saints (all believers in Jesus Christ are declared to be saints, with a lower case ‘s’), and if so, are we saintly? Are we truly pursuing holiness, and allowing the Lord to work through the process of sanctification in us? Being sanctified is to be set aside for the Lord’s use… are we allowing Him to teach us, and learning more about what it means to be holy. Do we truly want to learn about what it means to be Christ-like? We will never truly be perfect, until we get to heaven, but Lord Jesus still wants us to endeavor (through His power) to become like Him.

As if the first marvelous subject wasn’t enough, Mr. E started us off in Jeremiah, and before we could even think about groaning inwardly (ohhh, another Old Testament prophet?), his first message hit us upside the head, concerning our need to be constantly in the Word of God. Are we reading our Bibles daily? My answer was no, I’m sad to say, as it was for a lot of the questions our speakers were asking us, and I was becoming more and more convicted over what I’d been screwing up on. This message was painful, yet needful. From the discussion of our need to delve into the Scriptures, we learned more about Jeremiah, and how he would have studied all the Scripture that he had at the time, as well as looking to the Lord in all things.

It was also fascinating to me, because he pointed out that Jeremiah was still living when Daniel (of lion’s den fame) was born, and how their lives slightly intersected. And I’ve been through two Bible studies on Daniel, recently, as well as hearing a message about the lives of Daniel’s parents. Of course, Daniel’s parents aren’t named in the Bible, but they would have lived during the revival under King Josiah, which was in the time of Jeremiah. They would have remembered how Josiah lived for the Lord, for most of his life, and perhaps taught Daniel all about it. His grounding in his faith, as a child, is probably what led to him standing firm, when he was taken to Babylon.

Aside from the great messages, I was back in my favorite place to sing from our hymn books. We Seabrookers like to sing, and I always want to tape record it, to show other churches and assemblies what their singing COULD sound like. The Seabrook chapel has phenomenal acoustics, we like to sing in parts, and we like to sing loud. So, away we went, covering the old favorites, with one slight “incident” when the song leader called out the wrong song, and stopped us within a few words. “Who is on the wrong page…”, as he immediately began to sing, joking about himself.

At some point during the weekend, we always sing “And Can It Be”, and if the song leader’s being nice to us, he schedules it before our closeout numbers of “Wonderful Grace of Jesus” and “My Anchor Holds”, because we might pass out if we did all three in a row. We sing the rafters off on all three, and the latter song is our closing song. How wonderful it is to sing out, with fellow believers, about the wonders of our Savior.

When we aren’t soaking up the messages or singing our hearts out, we’re eating the amazing food provided by the camp’s dining hall. Usually, there’s a chef running things, so let me tell you, we eat very well. The rest of the time, we’re running around on the beach, eying up the alligators in one pond (there were two, this year!), and hanging out in the “snack shack”, as if we hadn’t eaten enough already.b

We didn’t actually start up a game of Ultimate Frisbee, this year, mainly because I’m usually the one that suggests it, and the doctor told me no contact sports. Also, my two travel buddies had threatened my life if I went against the doctor’s orders. So, we just had a large group of people throwing several Frisbees around, and attempting to throw against the stiff breeze. I actually forgot to put my coral-colored water shoes on, for once, so my feet were really sore from running around barefoot, afterwards.

As some of us have gotten older, we’ve stopped staying out on the beach so late, every night, and especially on Saturday night, we try to go to bed at a fairly decent time, so we’ll be alert during the Breaking of Bread, on Sunday morning. But to make up for that, we stay up as late as possible on Sunday night, usually walking down to the point, when the tide’s out, looking for shooting stars and watching for the antics of dolphins. Usually you can hear the dolphins better than see them, but a large fishing boat or two were out, which made it harder to focus on the stars, and easier to see dolphins splashing around. It’s always a fun time to get in some talk with friends, walking from one beach to the other.

I’m afraid some of us didn’t get to bed until 1:30am, and for some reason, we woke up earlier than usual. Someone’s phone went off too early, and with the light coming in our windows, quite a few of us were up and packing earlier than ever before. We scramble to get off the island by 9am, and stop at a local motel to eat breakfast at their buffet. The original prediction had been for rain, in which case, we’d have gone bowling (we do try and drag the weekend out for as long as possible). Instead, with gloriously sunny skies, we decided to go on the Charleston Harbor Tour. A few people went to the Market, if they hadn’t been on Friday, but most of us headed in the direction of the Aquarium, to catch the Harbor Tour boats.

I was surprised that they’ve changed up the boats and the tour, since the last time I went on one, because we had a regular tour guide, instead of just a recording. I had told my friends of the joys of hearing the exploits of Blackbeard, on the recorded tour, as it always talked of how he swiped a woman off the streets of Charleston, made her his wife, and had a reputedly happy marriage. But our tour guide only briefly mentioned Blackbeard, and covered much more history of Charleston than I’ve heard in a long time.

From the history of Rainbow Row to the Hunley Submarine, he covered quite a range. It was like being back in my elementary or middle school class on local history, because Fort Sumter, the Civil War, the Swamp Fox, and many other characters of South Carolina fame were covered. For my friends from up north, some of it would be new and different, for me, it was a review of my childhood. I’m afraid I did doze off during the part about the U.S.S. Yorktown, but that’s okay, because I’ve been on it several times, including after they got the Medal of Honor museum placed on it, several years ago. Actually, I slept overnight on the Yorktown, when I was a kid, as part of a school trip.

But I woke up to view a closeup of the New Bridge, and then we arrived back on land. Despite the pleading of our friends (or even nagging, one might say), we still persisted in our decision to leave Charleston right then. Departing at 3ish, we were able to drive all night, rather than have to get a hotel partway through the trip. With three drivers, we were all tired when we arrived back in PA at 4am, but not completely exhausted. Ok, that’s not to say we weren’t a bit zombie-ish the next day, but that’s from the entire weekend. Lots of driving, lots of learning about the Word of God, lots of catching up with old friends, and lots of walking on the boardwalks and beach. It took me a little while to recover from the whole weekend, energy-wise.

There are other things, though, that I never want to “recover” from. In fact, I pray (as do the rest of my friends) that we will all remember what we learned, and act on it. As I keep reminding myself, there have been so many times when I’ve used the words, and planned to make changes, but those words never became actions. Words are just words, I keep telling myself, until they become actions. This time, I want to act on what I’ve learned, not just let my words be more hot air.

Only time will tell, but I’m praying that the Lord works in my life, and I never recover from the need to pursue after and perfect holiness in my life. I need to be reading the Word of God, taking it into my heart, and taking it beyond just being a saint who’s been saved by the grace of God. And on the days when I feel like I’ve failed in this pursuit, I can take heart of hope with these wonderful verses. His compassion never fails, and His mercies are renewed every morning. Amen.

“It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is Thy faithfulness.” –Lamentations 3:22-23

don’t you just love photo effects?

Posted on by under America, Friends, Memories, Nature, Photos

We just got back from Seabrook Island at 4am this morning. Don’t worry, there were three of us driving, so we shared the drive equally. Nevertheless, after a glorious weekend, staying up too late on Sunday night, and a thirteen hour trip, we were exhausted. And I’m afraid we haven’t recovered yet, as we’re pretty loopy, today. We did get lots of laundry done, though.

So, as I sort through my photos and marshal my thoughts together to tell you about our wonderful Seabrook Conference, I stumbled across a photo that looks really great with several different effects. Maybe I’ll throw in some other pictures, just for fun, too. We saw a rainbow on Sunday night. Everyone should see several rainbows during their lifetime.

Stay with me, I just need a good night’s sleep, and I’ll be back in the game again, soon. Speaking of games, go Maroon! Oh, and if you’re wondering, the last two photos have not been touched up at all. They don’t need it.

P.S. If you look closely, you’ll see the double rainbow.

rain, i defy you! here are some flowers & sunshine, take that!

Posted on by under America, Friends, Memories, Nature, Photos, Thoughts, Travel

I was supposed to be able to wander up the street, in the sunshine, and visit old friends. Knock at their doors, have a cuppa, and catch up since the last year. But no, rain, you had to come a-visiting, and now it’s cold and wet out there (14 degrees lower than yesterday).

Everyone that wanted to work in their gardens, today, had to choose some indoor projects. All the flowers that I saw and wanted to photograph, well, they’ll be a bit bedraggled by tomorrow. Spring isn’t as far advanced, here in Pennsylvania, so I’m glad to see the beginnings of spring, somewhere. South Carolina’s much nearer to summer, by now.

So, just for that, rain, I’m going to post some more plants and sunshine from the other day, to remind myself of what it’s supposed to look like out there! Even if I have to do less interesting things for the afternoon, like going to my storage unit and going shopping at Kohl’s. Ok, I like shopping at Kohl’s, but you know it can’t be more fun than popping by your friends’ houses.

I will still visit friends, but rather than wander around, lonely in the rain, it’s better to call ahead. And like everyone else, instead of enjoying any sunshine, they’re working on projects or they’ve gone shopping, too! I should be good and get my important stuff done, too. But, rain, you really did put a stick in the works. Because who wants to clean out the fridge, when we can spend time in the nice, warm sunshine that we’ve missed so much?

So, rain, please go away, I have beach plans for the weekend, and you’re not invited.

In the meantime, who’s up for a cuppa?

you’ll be thirty-two…

Posted on by under America, Friends, Thoughts, Travel

She told me, “You’ll be thirty-two, today.”, and I told her that, “No, I’ll be thirty-two, tomorrow.”. It was quite funny, as she was actually telling me what I was being charged for having my hair cut. I had gone to a hairdresser at the mall, deciding to get it chopped really short, as I needed a trim, anyway. Now, the jury’s still out, for me, on whether I like this style or not. It’s a pixie cut, with some length on the top, but I’m not sure if it’s long enough to do what I wanted. I’ll get back to you on that.

I know, I know, you really want a picture of the hair, but I didn’t take one. Not yet, at least. I wasn’t a huge fan of the sprayed and waxed version of my hairdo, so I’ll see what it looks like after I fix it in the morning. There will probably be a cowlick in the back that has to be tamed, or so she warned me. Such is life, having to deal with these things. Oh, wait, I could’ve taken a picture of my hair, right after it was done, because I found out recently that my Canon PowerShot is working again. But when I got it out to use for something else, I found that the battery was dead. Sigh. Just can’t win.

If we end up doing something big and exciting for my birthday, I’ll let you know, but I’m not anticipating any big parties or anything. Not because I don’t like to celebrate birthdays, but we had a sort of combo birthday for my brother and I, when he was home on leave, so I don’t really feel the need for birthday cake again right away. That’s what happen when you have two family birthdays kind of close together.

Also, I’m probably going to be hitting the road on Thursday, and once I’m visiting friends and family and driving up and down the East Coast, I’ll probably be hitting some restaurants, which will be just as good as going out for my birthday. On Thursday, I’ll be driving from South Carolina to Maryland, which takes about… well, if I don’t go through rush hour traffic in D.C., it’ll take 12 hrs.

Also, for those that are curious, it’s about 640 miles (1,029 km) from here. I’ve been checking, because in AUS, our trip from Townsville to Brisbane took two days of driving (about 16 hrs) and the length of the trip was about 1,350 km. When I start calculating how fast we drive on the interstate, I start getting mixed up, but any Aussies who read this might be interested. We drive anywhere from 65 mph (104 kph) to 80 mph (129 kph), or at least, those of us that are slightly worried about getting pulled over by a cop. My brother always tells me I can go much faster, but I’m not ready to get my first ticket in the U.S., yet.

So, since I don’t know what tomorrow has in store for me, I guess you could say that my birthday gift to myself is a three week road trip, going north and south twice, from SC to MD and PA, with a full weekend at the beach mixed in there. And lots of family and friends to see. Could it possibly get any better than that?

Oh, and in case anyone’s wondering, my age doesn’t bother me a bit. It sounds a bit odd, but it’s just a number.

Good Friday & the upshot…

Posted on by under Australia, Memories, Photos, Thoughts, Travel

Friday, April 6

Well, my final official day in the city arrived, but since I would have to carry my luggage with me, I decided to take it easy. My plan was to go to Victoria Buildings and just wander through the shopping center, enjoying the architecture, and stopping to rest my shoulder whenever I needed to.

Things didn’t go according to plan, though, because I found that most of the shops were closed because it was Good Friday. Now, I do have a working knowledge of what this day is for, but my family has rarely paid attention to Good Friday itself. The day of Easter is what we really celebrate, not the whole weekend, and not bunny rabbits and candy (though who would say no to chocolate?).

The true reason for celebrating at this time of year is Jesus Christ’s Resurrection from the dead. So many people forget that. Including the girls that were running around McDonald’s in bunny ears and one carrot suit. And they weren’t little girls, either. Though the birth of Christ is a wonderful thing to remember, too, it was His death and resurrection that allow us reach for salvation. And how beautiful a gift is that?

So, if it’s normal for all the shops to open late on this day, I didn’t know it. So, I wandered back to McDonald’s for breakfast and began to figure out what to do next. Several other factors were at play, so heading to the airport even earlier than I had ever intended, well, I was starting to lean that way.

With one last stop at a gift shop to get a few shirts, and having to carefully maneuver my bags, to avoid breaking anything, I got back on the train for the airport. I knew exactly which platform to go to, which left me feeling proud of myself. I was not thrilled to have to pay $12 to get through the gate, upon arriving at the airport, however.

Another stick was thrown in the works, when I found that I could’ve checked in online, but couldn’t officially check in at the airport, until the day of my flight. Which would be early Saturday morning, by the way. And since I wasn’t willing to sit in the outer lobby all day, nor go back into town, I got my laptop about, looking for an internet connection, hoping to check-in out there.

Eventually, I found that I could check e-mail and Facebook, but the Qantas website wasn’t cooperating with me. So, I got a friend on FB to check me in, an then attempted to get my boarding pass again. Nothing doing.

Turns out, though, that I didn’t have to throw away my toothpaste or razor, in order to get through the Domestic Terminal gate, with my bag that I intended to check later. It’s only at the International Terminal that I’d have to do that. I was thankful, because I wasn’t sure where they were in my bag, and I didn’t want to have to repack that entire bag.

And here I am, seven hours later, comfortably ensconced in a chair, occasionally checking my e-mail, reading things online, or going back to reading my book. I’ve had plenty of coffee, enjoyed some nasi goreng (fried rice) for dinner, and explored most of the shops. But really, I’m just enjoying being off my feet, at last, and getting my future blog posts organized.

Because as you already know, I can post to my blog from the airport, but the free internet service is too slow to allow me to upload photos. So, now I’m going to go finish my book, because I’m close to the end, and probably catch a nap here and there. Around midnight, I’ll go back out into the front atrium and check my bag. And then, at 6am, I’ll be headed for Brisbane.

Have you enjoyed my trip to Sydney as much as I did? You’ll have to excuse my seeming laziness for today, but I had several reasons for it, that I won’t go into.

So, enjoy it while it lasts! Soon, I’ll be back to complaining about packing to return to the U.S.!   : )

~~~~~

11:30pm

So, my day hasn’t finished yet. Forty-five minutes ago, an airport official came around to tell me the terminal closed at 11pm. Sydney Airport, for crying out loud! Don’t red-eye flights go in and out of the Domestic Terminal? I was completely flabbergasted, and too tired to think straight.

To give you the short version, after debating whether to sit on a bench outside of the terminal, instead, I took a taxi to Formule1 Hotel. Yes, I spelled that right, I checked. It was only a five minute walk from the airport, but I wasn’t risking myself or my directional sense, at that time of night.

The desk clerk was very nice, which helped, after the taxi driver joked with the airport guy about the “short drive” that would earn him about $5 from me. I was too tired to care, and ignored some guy complimenting my hat, in the lobby. I have no idea if he was being serious or sarcastic, but I was in no mood for conversation.

Surprisingly, the hotel wasn’t a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Very spartan in its furnishings, but very clean and nice. Former housekeeper speaking, remember? Despite bursting into tears after arriving in my room, I wasn’t far enough gone to not get my camera out. I knew this would be an adventure, eventually. If I’d known the terminal closed at night, I could’ve been in my hotel all evening.

Now, to sleep four hours, get up and catch the shuttle bus to the terminal, and finally head to Emerald.

~

I hope you enjoyed my week as much as I did! Yes, even with the unexpected happenings of Friday night, I had a great time in Sydney. I hope you felt like you’d been there, too. I’m also including a few pics of Sydney, right after we took off. If you look closely (especially in the 2nd pic), you can see a very tiny Opera House and Harbour Bridge.

And I highly recommend visiting Australia (some time in Sydney is assumed) to all those “I-hope-to-visit-Australia-someday” people. Stop wishy-washing, and decide to make the trip! You’ll never regret it!

two views of Sydney, mine & Taronga’s…

Posted on by under Animals, Australia, Friends, History, Memories, Photos, Shopping, Thoughts, Travel

Tuesday, April 3

I wasn’t sure my alarm would go off, so I kept waking up to check on it. Sure enough, it didn’t go off at 7am, like it was supposed to. Otherwise, I might’ve been late to meet my friend Laura, at Central Station. As it happened, I didn’t have any trouble with the buses, now that I know what the bus station looks like. The night I arrived, I got on the bus at a different spot, you see.

With forty-five minutes to kill, I was able to have a leisurely breakfast at Bruno Rossi, after wandering around Central for a bit. Bruno Rossi was right next to Hungry Jack’s and Krispy Kreme, but I find those doughnuts to be quite expensive over here, so I stayed away.

While finishing off my coffee, I watched the pigeons chase after crumbs, and took note of the really lovely wooden carvings all around the walls. I wonder how many people even notice them, when they come in?

Instead of catching a train to Circular Quay, Laura and I walked there, stopping to look at any number of interesting buildings, on the way. For example, the Three Monkeys Pub (see bottom right, in the above photo), which used to be a bank. My friend told me I didn’t want to go in there for a drink, because I’d probably get stabbed. Now, if that’s not a reason to stay away, I’ve never heard of one.

In case anyone wants to know, I occasionally mess around with filters and color changes on my photos, but all I use is Picasa. Their latest version, Picasa 3, has some marvelous effects that you can use on your pics. I’ve been using that program for a while now, to crop or otherwise edit my photos, but I try to leave most of them as-is.

I thought it was interesting how the Ikea advertisement for mattresses blended in with the design of the Victoria Buildings. Look closely, can you see where the ad ends and the building begins (two photos above)?

After stopping to take a look at the Queen Victoria statue, I noticed a wishing well that had some history with the Queen, as well, but it looked like it was attached to an ancient elevator… but I couldn’t find an entrance, even though I circled around. The puppy statue, above the wishing well, was cute, too.

The design of the Victoria Buildings is really quite lovely, from the tiled floors to the amazing castle clock hanging from the ceiling. When Laura pointed out the design of the ceiling, in the very center of the building, I was hard put to get it on film. I ended up placing my camera on the floor, right in the center of the floor design, and taking the picture from there. Yes, that’s looking straight up at the roof. Doesn’t look like it, does it?

We walked down the street, taking a look in at The Strand, one of the oldest shopping centers in Sydney, where we stopped in for candy at The Nut Shop. I didn’t get any, though the chocolate ducks were adorable and deliciously tempting. They reminded me of the chocolate animals that my brother and I got for Easter, when we were little.

With a few more stops to look at buildings, and some interesting inscriptions on the ground, we finally reached Circular Quay, where we planned to take the ferry to Taronga Zoo. You see, Taronga is across the bay, placed up-and-down a hill, with some fabulous views of Sydney.

After getting off at the Zoo Wharf, we rode the bus up to the top of the hill, entered the Zoo, and began working our way down. There were quite a few more animals that I have pictured, but all the photos weren’t wonderful. But wherever we looked, we seemed to find the Harbour Bridge or the Sydney Skyline in the background. I really wondered if the elephants and giraffes appreciate their view.

Which reminds me, Laura told me that the city’s debating whether to move the zoo, and use that spot for prime real estate. Too bad, because it makes it such a unique place to go and see the animals, possibly drawing in more visitors than it would elsewhere. Especially with several other wildlife places nearby, including the Dubbo Zoo and WILDLIFE Sydney.

The koalas were very funny in their positions in the trees, some of them seeming to use their heads to brace themselves, rather than their limbs. The snake house wasn’t exactly cute, if you know what I mean, but some of the statues alongside the cages were creepier than the inhabitants. See the giant snake statue outside of a snake cage? That was like meeting Nagini, frozen into stone. But I found that most of indoor displays had some beautiful sculptures of the animals to look at, when the other visitors were blocking your view of the actual exhibit occupants.

I wish we’d been able to get some pictures of the platypus. They were adorable! And quite a lot smaller than I’d expected. But even when they’re displayed in a dark room, with barely enough light to see anything, they still hide in the darkest of corners.

But though some people hadn’t been aware of it until they read the wall displays, I already knew that they have venomous spurs, so if you ever managed to come across one in the dark, you still don’t mess with them, because they know how to protect themselves. Despite being American, I remember learning all about Australian animals, when I was in school. We learned all about marsupials, though I’m not sure if they taught us that egg-laying mammals are called monotremes.

I would guess that this chapter of school was so memorable to us because the marsupials and monotremes are completely different from the animals that American children are used to. On the other hand, my Aussie friends have sometimes turned out very interested in animals that I think are normal, like raccoons, squirrels, and chipmunks, because those are the unfamiliar animals, for them.

Another example of the monotreme is the echidna, which looks a bit like a long-nosed porcupine. Also very rare to see in the wild, I was only able to see a glimpse of one in the zoo. He was hiding behind a bush, and I couldn’t get a closer peek. However, I’ve seen many examples of them in various statues around Sydney.

Taronga is known for being one of two zoos in Australia that have managed to breed platypuses. Also, they’ve had several elephant births, so Laura was telling me about the recent ones, when they thought the baby elephant had died. But miraculously, he was still alive. They were fun to watch play, though the elephant area is the most “fragrant” of them all.

I still think that giraffe hide looks fake, like it’s been printed on by a machine. Yes, I know it’s real, but it’s so funny-looking, up close, because of that! And they’re so wrinkly. God makes such amazingly beautiful and interesting creatures, don’t you think?

We took the Sky Safari Cable Car down the hill, when we were leaving, enjoying the view, and taking as many pictures as we could manage, on the way down. Then, we hopped out, took a few more, and then headed down the steps to the Ferry. And then, I stopped in my tracks, realizing I was missing my sunglasses. Now, since my travel pass hadn’t included the Sky Safari, we hadn’t taken it up the hill, when we arrived. But it’s included in the Zoo admission price, so then you can ride it all you want. Which is a good thing, because we got back on the Sky Safari, to go back and get my sunnies. I was slightly embarrassed, you understand, as it really looked like the two of us just couldn’t get enough of the cable cars.

But really, it worked out for the Zoo, because my friend bought something else, when we got back to the gift shop. I had already done my duty, resisting all the books and adorable stuffed animals, but I bought some sweet necklaces for my girls. Bea’s has a penguin on hers, Kit’s has a giraffe, Emmie gets one with a really funny pewter hippo, and Sadie has a panda.

So, in the end, we all got what we wanted, and Laura and I were agreed that we were NOT walking back up or down that hill, no matter what. Besides, we also found out that the gift shop lady had run after us, thinking we’d gone to the upper gate, but not checking the Sky Ride. Oh well.

Finally, back down the hill we went, and we paid very little attention to the view, at this point. I was getting tired, so it was nice to sit on a bench in the cool Wharf for a while. Then we got on a Fast Ferry back to the Quay, and had a lovely view from the back.

Upon arriving back at the Quay, we decided to take things a little easier, walking through the city, wandering through some gifts shops, and then Laura took me to Dymocks. Three stories of book store, and very reminiscent of the biggest Barnes & Noble stores I’ve been in… perhaps like the one in Boston Harbor?

Stopping to use the restroom, I found that this giant store only had one public bathroom, for guys and girls, and the kid that was using it was apparently reading in there. At least, that’s what the conversation sounded like, as his parents tried to convince him to hurry up, talking through the door. He kept wanting to know why he should hurry up? As the conversation continued, I had a hard time not smiling at the kid’s comments, because he wasn’t being obnoxious, it just sounded like he was genuinely confused over why he should come out early.

After the book store, we went back to The Strand, and I was able to admire the gorgeous tile, the colored glass in the windows, and the ancient elevator, though we walked up the stairs instead of using the lift. The second story had some seriously snazzy stores, with labels that I couldn’t dream of affording, or even fitting into. And I thought of a certain set of Attwood girls, when I went into Alannah Hill, which makes new, vintage-looking clothes. I felt very out of place, but wished some of my friends could have seen it.

Continuing to walk through the city, I happened to glance down an alleyway, and found a collection of bird cages hanging from wires. If there was an artistic reason for it, I didn’t see a sign anywhere. But it was still beautiful.

Going to the Myer food court, I got a coffee from Gloria Jean’s (very necessary), while my friend got a very healthy juice made out of beetroot, spinach, and I don’t remember what else. I kept telling her she didn’t have to drink it, while she made faces over it.

But then, I decided to get a baked potato with seafood and cheese topping, though not the first time I’ve had something similar. But this turned out to have smoked salmon, some strange looking mussels, and white things that looked like eggs, but weren’t. I tried the salmon, which was okay, but didn’t keep eating it. Then the cheese tasted weird, so I ate as much of the cheese and potato as I could, but finally didn’t finish it, because I was afraid my stomach would have a fit. I did take pictures, but when I looked at them later, I thought it looked pretty disgusting. So, I won’t put you through looking at pics of what I ate, but I thought Laura and I were about even with our interesting choices of food… except I at least got to have a white chocolate mocha, too.

I won’t go so far as to say that I’ve mastered the bus and train system, but I went back to Central with my friend, by train, and then found my way (with no trouble) upstairs, without getting lost in the tunnels, for once. Then, I made my way out of the building, and towards the bus station, and got onto the correct bus to take me back to my stop on King’s Street.

How delightful to arrive back at my abode, with the sky still a bit light! Of course, then Rachael asked me what I did for the day… and I drew a complete blank. I was a little tired, you see. It took me a few minutes to remember that we went to Taronga Zoo.

And now you know about it, too! So, tomorrow, the plan is to go to Paddy’s Markets, and then to Darling Harbour. I’m still debating over whether to visit the Museum of Sydney or to make my way to the Harbour Bridge Pylon, before making an early evening of it. We’ll see what tomorrow holds!

the Royal Botanic Gardens & the Manly Ferry…

Posted on by under Australia, Exercise, History, Memories, Photos, Thoughts, Travel

Monday, April 2

After a lovely lunch at the Studio Café, under the Sydney Opera House, I was debating what to do with the rest of my day. Between all the stairs in the House, all the stairs in the dorms I’m staying in, and all the walking down Bennelong Point, I figured I would need to do something less strenuous, eventually.

Of course, not quite yet, but the Manly Ferry was on my to-do list for later. First, I walked back down the point, and made my way up the hill, looking for the entrance to the Royal Botanic Gardens, where I should be able to see Government House.

When I found the entrance, I also discovered that Government House only has tours on weekends, so I took a few pictures, and then left. While I was looking at it, though, I kept feeling like I was looking at a toy castle. Not fancy enough or old enough to be like palaces in London. And considering I’ve been to the Biltmore House in North Carolina, this place was tiny.

Right near the entrance was a lawn covered in broken bits of a building. I couldn’t decide if it was supposed to be decorative or if a bomb had blown something up, back in the day. There were no signs to explain what the point of it was. It made me think about what I remember reading about the Elgin Marbles, in England, but I don’t even know if these are similar, or if I imagine they would be. If anyone knows, feel free to tell me. What do you google, “broken building bits outside botanic gardens”?

As the sign said that we were welcome to walk on the grass, I took advantage of that, and walked down to the water. This was Farm Cove, on the other side of Bennelong Point, across the water from Mrs. MacQuarie’s Chair. I keep meaning to look up some more history on that landmark.

On the way to the water, I passed some Aboriginal sculptures that were only meant to be looked at, though one of them looked like it was a playground. I guess if they’re Aboriginal, you’re not allowed to call them “hippie droppings”, like my family calls weird art sculptures, back home? They went to a school that specialized in art and engineering, so it was full of “interesting” works.

After examining the signs, I headed back towards the Opera House, to get a few more photos from a different angle. Then, going in the opposite direction, I followed the signs to the Garden Gift Shop, wanting to see what they’d have for sale there.

Along the way, I tried to get some pictures of the beautiful rainbow lorikeets that were making so much noise in the trees. If there’s something you’ll notice about the birds in Australia, they’re often noisy, and they’re often beautiful. Lots of parrots flying around, which you would never see at home. But they can be quite destructive, too, doing a lot of crop damage… or so I’ve heard.

I passed some kids feeding the birds, and watched a bird fly from a spot right next to me, to the top of a pretty statue’s head. I’d hoped to get a shot of him taking off, but it never happened. The gift shop was nice, and I wanted to get all sorts of things, but reason prevailed, and I just got some more postcards.

Lots of interesting statues and beautiful trees and other plants were all about, as I headed for the exit to the gardens. When you look at the pictures of the Cupid statue, I know some of you are going to try and suggest I was just getting a close-up of his bum. There were plenty of other nude statues around, though, if that were my goal.  : P

But if you look closely, can you see what’s sheltering under Cupid’s wing? The bird was even looking at me, when I took his picture, but didn’t fly away. That’s probably because that circle of water was keeping everyone outside of his “personal space bubble”.

Finally exiting the gardens, I made my way to the ferries, and swiped my pass, in order to take the Manly Ferry. Taking the ferry to Manly is one of the best ways to get great view of the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. So, away I went, for a half hour boat trip. I’ve since learned that Manly is not an island, but it’s located on a strip of land that’s quite close to the Outer Harbour, and the open ocean. A big destination for beach-goers, but it looks like there’s some amazing rocks and landscapes to hike around, too.

When I arrived, despite having lunch at 1pm, I was starving (it was 4pm), so I must’ve worked it off during all my walking. I grabbed a sub, and then Gloria Jean’s Coffee really saved my life. A white chocolate mocha was just what the doctor ordered.

After feeding my face, and savoring my coffee, I began talking to an older couple who had stopped in for coffee, and ended up talking to them for almost an hour. I’d have suspected Mr. S might be trying to pull my leg, but his wife was so sweet, I couldn’t believe they’d both make up any stories for my benefit.

They told me about some great places to go see on the Inner and Outer Harbour, though I don’t know if I’ll be able to. He told me about some of his trips on-board a merchant ship, and how he and his wife had traveled around the world with his job. And then, I’m still not sure if I have the story right, but because of his help, in Perth, with a shipload of Italian sailors, when he and his wife were next in Italy, they got to meet Pope John Paul II.

But the kicker of the story is that the Italian gentleman that told them they needed to meet “Papa”, he said they needed an appointment. And Mrs. S thought it so odd that you needed an appointment to visit your parents. They had no idea that the man meant “Papa John Paul”, as he told them later. This couple was quite young, then, with one small son. They ended up at a large audience come to see the Pope, and then they got to meet him afterwards. Mrs. S was somewhat mortified, knowing that she’d only come in a plain skirt and blouse, instead of dressing up a bit more.

Oh, our talks about Australia and America were quite fun, though the loudness of the wharf sometimes made hearing difficult. His sister married an American sailor, and he never saw her again, though his brother did. I found the first part romantic, and the last a bit sad. But back then, a plane ticket for two of them was way too expensive. The really sad part of the story is that his brother found out that his sister was dying of alcohol poisoning, when he visited her. She had taken to drinking, after she found that all of America wasn’t as “glamorous” as Hollywood.

Yes, we had some talk about what the rest of America is really like. You know, how most of us don’t like being compared to Hollywood, though the rest of the world still judges us by what they see in the movies. When we just wish that the Hollywood actors would keep their political opinions to themselves, and stop giving most of America a bad name. My, haven’t times changed! But back in their day, they thought all of America was just like Hollywood and that we all lived like movie stars. I’m sure Red Bluff, WA is quite beautiful in its way, but if you’re expecting the glamor of the Hollywood elite, you might be disappointed.

At the last, they expressed the hope that just like a boomerang returns to you when you throw it, that I will come back to Australia again, someday. Except they expressed it better than I just did. And for all those people that say they “wish they could visit Australia, some day”… well, if you do nothing but wish, you’ll never do it. Now that I’ve been here, one visit (even a year-long one) will never be enough. I’m coming back.

Finally, I had to get going, and caught one of the Fast Ferries back to Sydney Harbour, so it didn’t take half an hour to get there. The sun was going down, so I got some really pretty pictures of the Bridge and Opera House. Yes, more of them. But if you’ll picture me racing up and down the steps on a “wobbly” boat, as I tried to get pictures from different angles, before they were out of sight, maybe you’ll forgive me for more of the same.

Once back in the Harbour, it was time to return to Newtown, but I couldn’t find a bus stop labeled with the right letter, for the place I wanted to go. Giving up, I headed into the train station, and got on a train for Central, worrying the whole way about what might go wrong this time. Once I was on the train platform in Central, down the stairs I went, and back up another set and… yes, I was back on a train platform again. I went down the steps, and stopped the first guy I saw, and asked “How do I get out of here?”, and didn’t even try to hide the slight wail in my voice.

It was probably not the first time he’d ever given someone directions, but he cheerfully led me up to his train platform, and pointed me the way out. I was so happy to have freedom in sight. Of course, my happiness was a little dampened when I got a soda out of a machine, dropped it, and then wasn’t careful when I opened it. So, a soda fountain erupted in my hand. Sigh.

I asked the train ticket guy (a much more cheerful individual, this time!) where the bus stop was, found it in a different place than last time, and managed to get on the right one. And though I probably should’ve swiped my bus pass, but didn’t (maybe that’s why the bus driver was glaring at me), another girl was nice enough to get off at the same stop as mine, so I didn’t have to hit the “Stop” button before getting off. I exited at the correct street (hooray!), and made my way back to my building.

Only a text message away, and my friend let me in the side door. Glorious showers and chocolate-covered sultanas awaited me. And now, my fingers, along with the rest of me, are very tired, and I have another day ahead of me.

I’m meeting a friend, tomorrow, who happens to be a Sydney native, but she’s been living in Emerald, and goes to the same Bible study with me. Barring any problems, this time, I have to get to Central Station, and we’ll probably have breakfast at Hungry Jack’s (that’s Burger King, for those Americans that are interested).

And now, bedtime! Hooray! And before someone calls me on it, “hooray” is one of the two correct spellings for that word. And since I tend to say it that way, that’s how I spell it. So there.

Sydney Opera House, by way of Circular Quay…

Posted on by under Australia, Exercise, History, Memories, Performing Arts, Photos, Thoughts, Travel

Monday, April 2

I tried to not take too many pictures, really I did, but it was nigh unto impossible. Because of this “problem”, some of my days will have to be divided into multiple posts. So, my five days in Sydney may take twice as long to write about on my blog. I know, I feel your pain. You’ll just have to suffer.

Monday morning didn’t start too early for me, and I almost got sidetracked by helping Rachael’s friends do a crossword in the dining room, at breakfast. I was particularly pleased over figuring out the word “prescient”, for one of the clues, and I think my tablemates were impressed.  : )

I made my way to the bus stop, and though the bus sign said “Circular Quay”, I still thought I was supposed to get off at Central Station. Considering I was headed to Circular Quay (that’s pronounced “key”, if you weren’t sure), this probably should’ve caught my attention, but it didn’t. In retrospect, I only noticed the bus sign out of the corner of my eye, so that may explain it. Fascinated by all the city scenery that was going by, which reminded me a lot of NYC, I missed the stop for Central Station. The bus driver told me we were at the Circular Quay stop, and though I felt a bit dumb, I smiled at him, knowing this was where I’d been headed.

Just on a random note, I’ve wished several times that I could look as trendy and stylish as some of the people around me. But then I wonder how you can wander all over the city, comfortably, when you’re dressed like some of them (short dresses, high heels). And I’m sure that my hat marks me as just down from the country, but I remembered that I am a tourist, so if I look like one, so be it.

If I had just come to Australia, a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t be aware of how badly you can get fried in the Aussie sun. I don’t particularly like wearing hats, as I like to get a tan on my face. I look stupid in baseball caps, too. But knowing what I do about that brutal sun, I wear my Akubra, and ignore any looks that might suggest people think I look like a hillbilly. Yes, I know my imagination is probably running away with me, but I think it quite possible that some city mice feel superior to the country mice that come along in their Akubras. Or just the tourists. I took comfort in knowing that my hat was the real deal, instead of like the fake ones that I saw in most of the souvenir shops.

Now, I just had to find the waterfront. I walked downhill towards a piece of sky with no buildings blocking it, and found myself at the Circular Quay Wharf and Train Station. Under the train station are plenty of touristy shops, in front of it are all the ferries, and to the left and right, the Harbour Bridge and Sydney Opera House.

I only got a slight glimpse of the above marvels, as I went to an information booth to ask about what was my best ticket for the buses, trains, and ferries. Then, I went and got an iVenture pass, which would allow me to get a good price on 5 main attractions in Sydney.

Taronga Zoo was not included in those five, but I was planning (originally) to visit WILDLIFE Sydney, the Sydney Aquarium, the Opera House, and two other interest spots. I thought climbing up the Harbour Bridge Pylon would be fun, getting to hear the history of the bridge, and take some pictures of it from a different angle. I could also go to the Maritime Museum, tour The Rocks district, or a few other places that I’ve forgotten.

Because it was there, and I wanted to see it right away, I began to walk towards the Opera House, stopping to listen to someone playing the didgeridoo, on the way. Of course, I took way too many pictures of the Harbour Bridge, on the way to the Opera House, but I tried to restrain myself.

By the way, if you look at my pictures of the Bridge, you might think they’re actually blurry, but they aren’t. If you’re looking at the roadway of the bridge, the “blurry” part is the curved fencing that will keep someone from climbing onto the road (or off the bridge). But if you look closely at the arch of the bridge, you can see the criss-cross design, and my later posts will show this better. So, acquit me of taking bad photos, please. I deleted between 50-100 photos, every evening, so I aimed to keep only the best.

On approaching that uniquely designed building, the Opera House, I found that a huge area in front of it was under construction. They’re building an access tunnel of sorts, in order that the stage crews can get their stuff into the building, much more easily.

Taking self-portraits can be a bit awkward, when you’re using a (not small) Nikon camera, but I’ve figured out how to do it. But while I was taking these pictures, a young man came up to me, seeing that we were in the same boat. He suggested we trade, he’d take some pictures with my camera, and I could take some with his. It seemed a fair swap, so we each have nice pictures of ourselves, with the Bridge in the background, as you’ll see.

It wasn’t until he walked off, that I realized he might’ve been American. Not that it really matters, but that’s how bad I’ve become at hearing the accents around me. I barely hear the Aussie accents, half the time, unless I’m really paying attention.

After taking a kajillion more pictures of the outside of the House, I finally figured out where to hand over my iVenture card, in order to get my ticket for the tour. After that, a visit to the restroom, and I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist taking pictures of the bathroom.  : )

Thankfully, no one else was in there, so it didn’t get awkward with me taking those pics. But the sinks were so rippley, and they weren’t even “sinks”, exactly. And even the doors to the stalls were all rippley. As for the hand-washing area, they wouldn’t be the only sinks I saw of that type. Talk about easy to clean, with just a smooth or slightly wavy slab to clean! Sorry, former housekeeper speaking here.

While we waited for our tour guide, a lady took our pictures in front of a green screen, which were later turned into a package of photos, with me standing in front of various locations in and around the Opera House. I bought that package, as in some of those places, we hadn’t been able to take pictures inside.

When Dan, our guide, arrived, we were given headsets, so that he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard. We went in and out of the House, climbed tons of stairs, and were generally amazed by all the views. And the architecture, too, of course.

We got to watch a small video about the competition for best plans for the Opera House, and the decision to locate it on Bennelong Point. When Jørn Utzon’s plans were chosen, the original estimate was that it would take 3 years to build, and cost about 7.5 million dollars. I knew that it had taken longer and cost more, but I couldn’t recall the numbers.

Photos could be taken anywhere in the Opera House, except for in the theatres, because of copyright issues over any production that was on stage. We didn’t get to see the ballet/opera stage at all, because they were having dress rehearsals for La Traviata. Which is why I posted my tour photo of myself in the theatre, though I was only “green-screened” into it. But they told us that we get the copyright to our own pics, when we get the package.

In case anyone needs reminding, I haven’t forgotten how to spell, just because I’ve been in Sydney. In Australia, they spell the words “theatre” and “harbour”, instead of the Americanized “theater” and “harbor”. So, since I’m here, I try and use their spelling, though I’m sure I slip up now and then. But if it’s a title, as in the “Harbour Bridge”, I will always aim to spell it correctly, just like I hope everyone spells my name correctly. We don’t compromise on names, whether it’s a person or an object.

The second small theatre we went into was where they were performing MacBeth. Actually, Dan told us that they were having a production of a show that “begins with M, and ends with -acBeth”. Then, he went on to explain the curse of MacBeth, and how actors are very superstitious over saying that name in a theatre, before the show begins. I don’t believe in this curse, but Dan did point out that the show had been delayed for several days, because four of the lead actors had gotten food poisoning. So, you can decide for yourself, whether it’s true or not.

In the chamber orchestra theatre, we got a glimpse of one of the largest (if not THE largest) pipe organs in the world. I think he said it has 10,000 pipes, and it took ten years to put it together, and three years to tune. And if you remember the original estimate for how long the building would take to put together, then I can also tell you that the organ took at least half of the original budget, as well.

You’ll notice that I have a few pictures of people working industriously, cleaning the windows of the Opera House. That takes quite a while, I’m sure. But our tour guide explained to us how the roof tiles are a self-cleaning variety, so that when it rains, all the dirt just slides off easily. There are no gutters on the building, though, so if you happen to be in “Hurricane Alley” (as you can see, I’m taking the pic from between the “shells”, just above), or “the Cleavage”, as it’s also called, you’ll get just about drowned.

And the granite slabs that we walked around on, they have a little space between each of them, so the water just drains between the slabs, and back out into the ocean. Rather nifty, wouldn’t you say? Also, you may notice the photo of the roof tiles, with a bar at the top? They use that to rappel down, to replace fallen tiles, as well as setting off some of the fireworks, on New Year’s Eve. I don’t see how there’s room to put fireworks up there, but that’s what Dan told us.

There’s one photo that you may find confusing, with a panel that looks like you’re staring through it, down to the water, and yet you can see a clear delineation of the sky, a sharply cut edge to the “picture”, above that. I’m actually take that picture straight up, and the water reflection is coming off of a glass panel. If you look closely, you’ll see the roof of one of the “shells” above it. I thought it fascinating, but found the photo wasn’t exactly self-explanatory.

The final short video told us about how long it took to figure out how to build the Opera House, and the difficulties in the logistics of making it even possible to put those shells up. I won’t even attempt to explain it. I just know that Jørn Utzon was bloody brilliant. But sadly, things didn’t end well for him.

The government became upset with him, and how long the building was taken, so he ended up resigning. When, after it took sixteen years to finish, the Opera House was complete, Utzon never returned to see the completed building.

However, Dan assured us there was a happy ending, and he took us to the Utzon Room to show it to us. Though Utz0n never returned, thirty years after it was built, a new government invited Jørn Utzon to do some more design work for them. He was at least 80 years old, by then, so he did his designing from Denmark, and sent his son to oversee the work.

So, though he never saw the completed building, in person, Utzon’s mark was made, again and again, as several more of his designs were used inside the Opera House, and his son saw them put into place. Utzon died in 2008, but you could say that his honor had been restored to him, and we got to see the Utzon Room, which was one of his final works.

Also, the ongoing construction, outside, was also partly his design, so even if they keep to their budget and timetable, Utzon’s hand will continue to be felt in, and seen, all around the Sydney Opera House, for many years to come.

~

And now, I will stop, and you’ll have to come back tomorrow, to read about the rest of my first day in Sydney.

planes, trains, & buses, oh my!

Posted on by under Australia, Friends, Memories, Photos, Thoughts, Travel

Sunday, April 1

I know, you probably won’t find my journey to Sydney as interesting as Sydney itself, but I have to start somewhere. And if you don’t follow all of my gyrations through getting on planes, trains, and buses, then you won’t understand some of my later failures and triumphs.

I’ve been flying on planes for years, so I have no trouble asking for directions, if I need them. But generally, I find airports to be so well laid out, that I just follow the signs. So, I got on the plane in Emerald with no problems, aside from adjusting for the minimum elbow room provided on QantasLink planes (hint: those planes are LITTLE).

In Brisbane, I wandered through some of the airport stores, buying a few Aussie children’s books, and tried to forget that the last time I was in that airport, I had been ill. That time was the only time I’ve ever been close to getting sick on a plane, so I wasn’t enjoying the memories.

However, once we boarded the plane, I felt like our larger Qantas plane was positively roomy compared to the previous one. A lady with a 9 month old baby was sitting across the aisle, one row behind me, but I wasn’t alarmed by this.

Yes, I’ve read about airlines having stricter policies because of babies and passengers becoming less accommodating, even rude, when it comes to small children. But I’m not one of those. I like babies, assume the best about the parents and their children, and this lady’s baby did nothing more than shriek with delight, now and then, during our 1 hour flight.

When we arrived in Sydney, that’s when I knew things could get interesting. I had no trouble following the signs that said “Trains”, knowing that I would have to take one, either all or part of the way to Newtown. I was going to stay with a friend’s friend, so I knew the address, and had a vague idea of where I was headed.

I have no problem with asking for help, but along with that, I can be easily intimidated by unfriendly looking bus drivers and ticket salesmen, and I really don’t enjoy looking like an idiot when I have an audience. So, when the ticket salesman acted like life was boring, I was boring, and why were we boring each other, together? I put up with it, and hoped for the best.

I was extremely tired by this point, though my plane flights hadn’t been long. I think it was just the packing, and knowing I still have to pack to go home in several weeks, plus being a bit jittery over doing a lot of my tourist act on my own. I got on the train, feeling reasonably certain of where I was supposed to go, but judging by my luck on the subway in NYC (I can’t go to New York City by myself, I get lost in the subways), I wasn’t taking any chances. So, no relaxing on the train.

We arrived in Central Station, and I would’ve taken some photos of the cool area, except I started to get lost. Down the stairs, off the platform, down a long tunnel, and I find a sign that says “Way Out”. No, it’s not a surfer-ism, it’s telling you how to get out of the train station. So, up the stairs I go… and find myself on another train platform.

Now, remember, I’m dragging my small suitcase, with my laptop bag on top of it, and I have to carry it up and down all these flights of stairs. I’m getting tired and out of breath. Down the stairs I go again, and start down a long tunnel… and there’s nobody else in it. I’m really getting freaked out, though it’s well-lit. No signs? Where in the blazes am I?

Back up the stairs, another train platform, and I see a sign for a lift (elevator). Thankfully, I reach it, and it leads me to freedom. Or so I thought. At this point, I don’t give a rip about the cool architecture in the main part of the train station. In fact, I’m bloody well tired of it. I find signs for the Newtown bus, go outside into the dark city, and start praying that nothing bad happens to me.

When I got onto the correct bus, I stayed on it until the last stop, thinking it was the right one. Or was it the only stop? I don’t remember. The driver didn’t know where the street I needed was, so I got off in confusion, not having any idea where I was. So, though bus drivers can intimidate me (not all of them, just some of them), I’ll stop a complete stranger, when I’m not sure where I’m going. So I asked a lady who was sitting down waiting for a bus.

She didn’t know the name of the local universities, and I wasn’t sure which one I was looking for, but she was pretty sure it was “a k or two” up King Street. And yes, I had tried to call my friend’s friend, but hadn’t gotten an answer yet. So, away I went, walking up King Street, pulling my suitcase and bag, getting more and more tired, praying it wouldn’t be THAT far away.

I saw so many Asian restaurants, and some of them looked quite charming and quaint, if I’d been out strolling with a friend, I’d have stopped to get something to eat. But I kept walking, and eventually noticed that my “new” phone was ringing. It turned out, I was on the right path, and my street was coming up. By this time, it was starting to rain, but my route was mostly under the shop awnings, which was nice. And finally, I found my new friend’s place.

Tired, feeling accomplished at having found my place of residence for the week, but annoyed with myself for having made some mistake (not sure what it was), I planned to do better next time. I asked Rachael (yes, my life abounds with other Rach[a]els) a bunch of questions about the buses and trains, and then went to sleep. Ah, blissful sleep.