Exploring Manly by Bicycle
Feb27

Exploring Manly by Bicycle

It was the second day of my excursion Down Under, and I was ready to delve into on-the-ground exploration:  going on a self-guided tour of Manly by bicycle. I’d gotten my obligatory photos with the Sydney Opera House the day before; I’d traipsed around downtown with my 5lb Lonely Planet Guide in tow. It was time for something a bit more challenging. Pamphlets had been floating around the hostel for Manly Bike Hire, which offered self-guided bike tours. Immediately, I had visions of riding around the rugged terrain, discovering hidden coves with the warm spring breeze blowing in my hair. I was sold. Getting to Manly One of the perks in going to Manly is taking the ferry, which gives you the opportunity to take even more photos of the Opera House, Harbour Bridge, and the Sydney skyline — without spending a fortune on a “harbour tour”. Getting to Manly, Renting the Bike and Choosing the Self-Guided Tour Located just a few blocks from where we disembarked is Manly Bike Tours & Bike Hire.    Since I was on an adventure (and adventurous people are naturally in good shape), I opted for their “intermediate” route that had the most impressive pictures in the pamphlet: The Sydney Harbour National Park Explorer. I paid the $28 for the hybrid bike, signed a scary waiver that said something about potentially owing hundreds of dollars if I broke or stole the bike, and I was on my way. Dodging Traffic and Getting Lost I don’t know the traffic patterns of Manly, but I can’t imagine it gets a lot busier than on a beautiful, sunny and warm Good Friday afternoon.  Between an endless line of parked cars on my left and bustling Easter weekend traffic on my right was a generous twelve inches of open pavement for my wobbly bike tires to straddle. As I desperately tried to keep my bike tires within the twelve inch gap, I remembered I hadn’t ridden a bike in over 10 years, and I’d never ridden in traffic of any kind, much less traffic flowing in the complete wrong direction. I teetered along uneasily for a couple of blocks, dodging mirrors on parked cars while trying not to swerve into traffic. This wasn’t an adventure. This was suicide. With my pride slightly bruised, I hopped off the bike and tried to look as cool as possible as I pushed it along through crowded intersections, until I found a quieter street in a residential area. I consulted the map, and realized that in my quest for survival I’d gone in the wrong direction. I tried to make sense of the roads within that orange square,...

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Living With Hippies in Wellington
Apr07

Living With Hippies in Wellington

Travelling isn’t a series of endless awesome moments – at least, not in the world of the budget traveler. There are interesting moments that are uncomfortable to live through, but make for somewhat amusing life lessons later. Such was the day I lived with hippies. Rewind: May, 2010. Wellington had won me over. The moment I stepped off the bus and found myself at the corner of Courtenay Place and Cambridge, I was in love. The weather was far colder than that of Sydney and the wind was harsh — but there was something about Wellington – the charm, the friendly atmosphere, the touristy excitement of Wellywood, the endless amount of Lord of the Rings tours to choose from – and I knew I could settle in this corner of the world for awhile and be contented. My first night in Wellington, I struck couchsurfing gold with a young couple named Charlotte and Vaughan. By this point, I’d become used to the concept of couchsurfing and the idea of just wandering into an unknown place, making new friends, and adjusting immediately. Charlotte and Vaughan had only hosted one other person a few months earlier, so the whole idea was still new to them and they were friendly and accommodating with a nervous excitement. Charlotte and I hit it off, as we both worked in production. She worked at a local TV station, and we both had a love for travel that was difficult to fund, given our limited incomes. The night I stayed with them, Charlotte and I went for pizza on Cuba Street (awesome part of the city with dozens of quaint shops and restaurants; the pizza wasn’t so impressive).   Before turning in for the night, I checked the location of my host for the following night. He lived in Island Bay, which was about a 10-15 minute bus ride out of the part of town I’d come to love. Staying with Charlotte and Vaughan another night wasn’t an option, as they were planners that had only anticipated housing me for one night. But Charlotte was still gracious and offered to drive me out there the next afternoon. After a nice day of some solo walking around the trails of Mt. Victoria, I packed up my things and Charlotte drove me out to Island Bay. She’d looked up the address and we were searching amongst the numerous houses to find it. At long last, we discovered an older, white house hidden by overgrown trees. The white paint on the house was severely chipped, and there was no door to be seen on the front of the house– but we’d...

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Learning to Breathe: End of the Tour Down Under

I’ve learned so much on this trip I don’t even know how to begin writing down all my ponderings. I’m currently WWOOFing in Matamata and it’s been a really good way to wrap things up. Being out in the country with the fresh air, beautiful rolling hills, and manual labor has provided me with ample opportunity to mentally arrange the various stages in my adventure and realize what I miss, how I’ve grown, and things that I’d like to change. I guess that’s as good a starting point as any. What I’ve Missed: Oddly enough, one of the first things I missed about being away was working with Gabe and our humorous exchanges. Extremely random, but true. Another one of the first things I missed was noodling around on the guitar at band practice with Levi. Which is also something I wouldn’t have anticipated, because we haven’t played together in at least two years and haven’t had regular band practices in about five years. I’ve missed Gunner often, usually at mealtimes because I often found myself cooking for myself. I realized I can’t wait to cook for him, as 1950s a stereotype as that may be. Being here amongst a family on a farm has reminded me of my own childhood and how good I had it. I remember my dad telling me that often but of course it didn’t mean anything to me at the time. I’ve missed Coxey and Greg. I’ll be happy to sit down with them and have a beer and play Smash Brothers, or play disc golf. There were a few times when I wished I could hang out with Gunner and his guy pals. I’ve missed hanging out with Jessie and Allison, which again, there hasn’t been a whole lot of that in the last two years. I’ve missed going to Kentucky with Gunner and hanging out with his family. I’ve thought more than once about how I can’t wait to get back to New Orleans. I guess you could say I’ve found myself missing a lot of how things were at different years in my life, and that could explain why I’ve been feeling so lonely in Nashville. Things I’ve Learned That there still are good people in the world and that alone is a reason to keep on traveling. On this trip, I couchsurfed 7 times, WWOOFed with one family, and have met numerous awesome people in hostels that I hope to meet again along the road. For example — two nights ago I left my iPod in my hostel in Wellington and couldn’t find it. My other 5 roommates were...

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Whirlwind…

The inner turmoil is unreal. I love New Zealand and I’m nowhere through exploring it yet. This adventure is almost over, but I’m not ready for it to be. I’m not ready to go back to reality. I should’ve scheduled this trip to be three times as long, or just up and left everything. But I had no way of knowing that I would feel this way 5 weeks into it. NZ… it’s not completely off the map. I’m a little disappointed that New Zealand so much like the US. Yes, there’s scenic beauty, but the day-to-day life is very similar. I’m not sure if I was actually expecting an undiscovered world with elves and hobbits, but as I was driving around the farm today on a 4-wheeler in the middle of story-like beauty– Hobbiton itself, in fact–it didn’t feel right. All day today I’ve been struggling with the fact that these mythical places only exist in stories. The world is a more technologically advanced place, but it is also a much darker place. I want to go on a multi-day hike, sleep under the stars. But I do not want to be a hippie and get in tune with nature by smoking some of it. And then there’s Nashville. My beloved adopted city, wrecked in a weekend. It sounds bad– really bad. I saw pictures of the inside of the Opryland Hotel and it broke my heart. I can’t believe some of the pictures — it’s like living in an alternate universe. I’m not sure what I’ll be coming back...

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Well, …ington

So I bounced over to the North Island a few days ago, on a day that was so windy we had to pull up upon attempting to make our first descent into Wellington and circle around for another pass. The pilot did manage to put the plane down the second time, and rather smoothly — everyone applauded. I really, really like it here. I would venture to say Wellington has felt the most like home out of all the cities I’ve visited. On a clear day, the mountain range surrounding the bay is absolutely beautiful, and today my LOTR tour (nerd alert…) took us by Breaker Bay where I saw a breathtaking sunset and could even see the mountains on the South Island. Being here in “Wellywood” has gotten me thinking more about work and what I should do about it all. Immigration laws in NZ demand that jobs only be given to overseas folk should there not already be a Kiwi equipped for the job. And, let’s face it: being a set production assistant isn’t brain surgery. But what if? My desire to get involved goes hand-in-hand with my reasoning for being in the film industry. I want to be involved in something bigger than myself, creating something that thousands of people can appreciate for decades to come, and that’s exactly what movie-making allows us to do. But I would love to work on something great. I think the magic of Lord of the Rings is that no one realized how successful the movies would be, but yet they devoted two or more years of their lives to the project, created deep friendships, broke rules, and lived daily adventures that forever changed them. Their adventure is not unlike the adventure described in the books, and that kind of an experience is what I’m striving for, and that’s why I love being on movies more than anything else. How awesome would it be to leave it all behind for a year to move to a distant land, focusing on nothing more than one project with one group of people and have that piece of work recognized by millions around the world? You could forever say, “I had a part in that”, and forever whenever you stumbled across a person who you worked beside, you could share that knowing smile — It was our journey and only we know. I went surfing at Lyall Bay yesterday where the waves were far gentler and less intimidating than back at the Gold Coast. I even stood up a couple of times! On this trip I’ve realized how adventurous I am, how the 9...

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Rough Day in Christchurch

I’ve been rather depressed today. Maybe it’s because I’ve spent wayyy more money on this trip than I ever anticipated. Maybe it’s because I realize I’m 23 and I haven’t accomplished much. Maybe it’s because part of me would like to stay in New Zealand as The Hobbit is gearing up to shoot, but I know that’s a rather crazy ambition — although SOMEONE has to check in all the hobbits/gobblins and make sure they’ve filled out their vouchers correctly. Or maybe they just do cash here? I also don’t like the person that I am. Self-absorbed. Elitist. Clueless. Out of shape. Face breaking out. No direction. Etc etc. I’m also cheesed off because the dryer ate a $2 coin, the phone at the hostel didn’t give me any refund when I didn’t use my full $2, and the freaking computer ate a $2 coin. and outta...

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