tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75051580465762498542024-03-20T04:15:34.335-07:00Kayla Down UnderKayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-62453776556854422982008-10-06T14:04:00.001-07:002008-10-11T09:38:21.225-07:00Oh am I gonna miss this...After a fun, but mostly restful week spent with a friend in Melbourne, I flew into Sydney on Sunday and my friend Dom picked me up from the airport and deposited me straight onto his boat. It was a beautiful day… made even more beautiful by the fact that 8 of us were jetting through Sydney harbor drunk on wine and full of delicious dips and sandwiches. I was reminded of my first few weeks in Sydney when Dom took us to a party in the middle of Sydney harbor and I was pretty sure I’d died and gone to heaven. (Of course back then, I was tanner, skinner, and financially solvent). About 20 min into our trip, we met up with another boat load of people, tied the two boats together, and spent the next few hours toasting in the sun. Sigh.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bondi2-boat1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bondi2-boat1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bondi2-boat2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bondi2-boat2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />At around 4:00, the weather changed pretty dramatically and it got quite cold, so a bunch of us headed back to Dom’s parent’s place to warm up in the hot tub. After 6 hours of drinking, we were all sufficiently loose and some silliness ensued. People kept showing up and some didn’t have bathing suits so they just got in their clothes… some got in without. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bondi2-hotTub.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bondi2-hotTub.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We were probably in the hot tub for 2 hours straight and once our skin had absorbed as much water as was humanly possible, we took off to continue the party over at fight club. At the time, I thought fight club was an actual club, but in reality, it’s a mansion where a bunch of Dom’s friends live. It’s called fight club because, well, aside from looking very much like the house in the movie for which it is named, you just don’t talk about what happens in fight club. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fightClub1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fightClub1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fightClub2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fightClub2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Many an insane party has been thrown at this mansion. I will refrain from breaking the code of silence, but let’s just say that you can imagine what you get when you mix a huge pool, a hot tub, a sauna, and 10 crazy drunk people. And I’m informed that that’s par for the course and nothing compared to the bigger parties. Well, it was a good introduction nonetheless. The following night we went to a relatively tame and civilized dinner party there and had a few laughs about the pics taken the previous night. I think running for public office is now officially out of the question for me.<br /><br />I caught up with some friends over then next 2 days, and on Thurs, Dom and I were off again, as he’d invited me to be his guest on a helicopter trip down to the Grand Prix in Melbourne. Dom is a pilot and he and his friend would be spending the week bouncing around Melbourne. Well, I had just come from Melbourne, but could not turn down a free, private helicopter tour of said city. The flight was amazing… so beautiful that I kept clicking pictures with the one hand not occupied by the clutching of an air sick bag to my face (which was pretty much as green as the meadows over which we were flying). We ended up having to take a break at a beautiful little spot halfway through the flight so I could regain my bearings. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/helicopter5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We spent the next few days hanging out with Dom’s friends, one of whom I had actually met randomly the week before. I had been staying with a friend of my cousin’s in Melbourne, and his best friend (whom I’d met at a party) happened to be good friends with Dom. Small world this is…or maybe Dom just knows everybody.<br /><br />We spent 4 event-filled days in Melbourne and I had a great time despite persistent back pain and a pretty nasty cold. On our first day in town, we went to lunch with the 6-time Motor Cross champion of Australia. I know nothing about motorcycle racing, but people kept stopping him to get his autograph, so that was a bit surreal. The next day, we met up with another of Dom’s friends for lunch and ended up presiding at a marketing meeting for Saurina Tuna. How do you spell random? It was pretty fun though… I found myself totally in my element giving art direction advice on a new line of gourmet tuna labels. Oh, to once again let the word “Helvetica” roll off my tongue…dare I say it actually made me miss work! That night, 5 of us went out for dinner and we gorged ourselves on chocolate to the point that we could barely function. By midnight we were totally spent… this of course after making idiots of ourselves on a crazy sugar high before the inevitable crash. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/melbourne2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/melbourne2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/melbourne1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/melbourne1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/melbourne3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/melbourne3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Anyway, I flew back to Sydney on Sunday as I didn’t want to cram all my traveling into one day. I was planning a big night out for my last night in Australia, but everything in my body was saying hell no. MY back was on fire, I was coughing up a lung, and for once, I had to draw the line. I’m disappointed I didn’t get one last crazy night out, but I think I’ve had enough over-the-top nights to make up for it… plus it’s clearly time to face reality and take care of my much-abused body.<br /><br />So this is it for now folks. I leave you now to begin another adventure… that of readjusting to “normal” life back at home. I can’t believe how fast these 9+ months have gone and that this segment of my life is over. If I do decide to pick up and venture back out to paradise, I will most certainly keep you posted on whatever it is I manage to get myself into. Bye for now!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-18736961983518474952008-09-23T03:26:00.000-07:002008-09-23T03:38:02.536-07:00From the Desert to the SeaAfter 5 event-filled days on the road. I think I may finally be all road-tripped out. Oskar (an aussie guy who offered me a lift to Adelaide) and I left Alice Springs on Thurs and began our long trek down to South Australia. On the way to our first big stop, we pulled off the road to take a look at the breakaways, a starkly beautiful and vast desert plain. It was very different than the rest of the outback terrain I’d seen thus far which was surprisingly covered with foliage.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/coober1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/coober1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/coober2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/coober2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/coober3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/coober3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We also passed a huge and surreal salt lake which looked like a snow field in the middle of the desert. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/saltLake1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/saltLake1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/saltLake2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/saltLake2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/saltLake3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/saltLake3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />It took us two full days from Alice Springs to make it to an opal mining town called Coober Pedy… translated from the Aboriginal as “white man’s hole in the ground.” The aboriginals do not mince words. Coober Pedy’s climate is so inhospitable that most of the town’s residents live in underground homes carved out of the rock in the dusty hills. There are about 10 opal stores for every person. While we were walking through the town (actually shuffling due to the intense heat), a local named Elias offered to give us a lift to one of the underground churches we wanted to check out. He had some time to spare, so he drove us to his home to give us a grand tour. Pretty cool place, and the best part about it was that there was no need for heating or air conditioning, as the temperature in the cave dwelling stays comfortably cool all year round. Elias was an interesting guy…he is a yoga instructor/miner who spends all his days digging in the hope of hitting a large deposit of opal. He mostly comes out empty-handed, but has a pretty positive attitude about his chances at striking it rich. After letting us pick out a few pieces of opal for ourselves, he dropped us off at our destination, which was really not all that exciting. But Coober Pedy is a pretty unique place and I’m glad we got to see it through a local’s eyes.<br /><br />We left Coober Pedy early the next day to head on down to Adelaide. For some reason, I thought Adelaide was a LOT closer to Alice Springs than it was. It’s far, fuel is very expensive, and it took us 8 hours of solid driving before we reached the city. Did I mention I don’t drive stick? Poor Oskar had to drive almost the whole way, though I tried my hand at the driving and actually did ok as I’d had a quick lesson from the horse farmer before my unfortunate accident. I’d say I drove for about an hour in all. Exhausted and freezing, we stayed at a dingy hostel that night and woke up very early as we’d decided to check out Kangaroo Island the next day. Kangaroo Island is a beautiful, wind-swept, pristine island off the coast of Adelaide and its charms include large numbers of kangaroos and seal colonies. We made it to the ferry thinking that it departed every hour. Turned out that we’d missed the 12:00 ferry and that the next one was leaving at 6:00. We also discovered that getting Oskar’s van to the island would cost us twice as much as we’d thought. The info we’d read was very misleading, and so there we were, sans ferry tickets and down an extra hundred dollars each. Ouch. Well, we debated going back to Adelaide, but I had gotten my heart set on checking out the island (it was that or spend the next 2 days bumming around the city) so we just sucked up the extra cost and managed to board the 6 pm ferry. (We were actually very lucky as there was only one car space left when we bought the tickets.) Killing time before boarding the ferry, I was able to get a few cool shots of a wind farm on a hillside near the ferry terminal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-barbed3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-barbed3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-barbed4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-barbed4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-barbed2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-barbed2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-ferry.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-ferry.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-dash oard.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-dashboard.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />The ferry ride was very rough…the seas were NOT calm and as soon as the boat started moving, so did the contents of my stomach. I passed out for the hour-long ride and we arrived at the island after dark and called it an early night so that we could make the most of the one full day we had. The day started off cloudy and cold, but eventually the sun came out and we got to see just how spectacular the island really was. We were pretty underwhelmed by the first half of what we saw, but when we made it to the west end of the island, we understood what all the hype was about. It was stunning. The coasts were wild and tons of seals could be seen frolicking about in the rock pools and on the beaches. They are total cuddle bugs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-sealBay5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The highlight of the trip was a bizarre rock formation called the Remarkables. They were aptly named… <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-rocks2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-rocks2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-rocks3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-rocks3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-rocks4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ki-rocks4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />You can’t get a good sense of scale, but when you’re standing under the undulating rock faces you can’t help but think they were created by a sculptor. The forms were just so unique and the lines were an artist’s dream.<br /><br />After visiting the Remarkables, we drove the full 2 hours back the ferry and made it back to Adelaide that night at about 10pm. It was an exhausting and expensive endeavor, but I’m glad we did it. I mean, did you see those seal’s faces? That alone made the trip worthwhile. <br /> <br />So now I’m headed to Melbourne for a few days and then it’s off to Sydney where I will be basically doing nothing except for soaking in a hot tub until I leave. My much-abused back will appreciate the rest, as I haven’t exactly been taking it easy.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-86906849266372585632008-09-16T01:46:00.000-07:002008-10-29T17:20:55.712-07:00The RockOy. I spent about 6 hours today at the hospital trying to work out the logistics of getting my back X-rayed. The doctor I saw in Darwin had filled out a form requesting an X-ray of my neck when I had clearly specified that it was my back that was hurting. The doctors here in Alice Springs wouldn’t do the back X-ray without a written request from the original GP, so I spent a good part of my day sitting, waiting, and contemplating the even sadder state of the aboriginal population I witnessed shuffling barefoot though the hospital doors. At about 3pm I was finally taken in for my X-ray and was trying to remain optimistic despite the dull, but relentless ache in my spine. The radiologist came back in and informed me that I indeed had a compression fracture; but that it was a very minor one and that there was no apparent serious damage. I can’t tell you how relieved I was, especially when he told me he’d had two of those very same injuries (albeit much worse than mine) and that he recovered fully in about 10 weeks. The “recovered fully” was the part that lifted me out of my deepening gloom my condition was inducing. So there you have it. We’ll see how things go, but I can safely say there will be no extreme sports for me for the remainder of my trip (I got them out of the way already).<br /><br />Never one for listening to sound advice, and despite the pain, I did end up going on my camping trip. Luckily the 4-hour walks we did during the days were somewhat mild compared to some of the more arduous hikes I’ve done on this trip, and the exercise felt great. The trip got off to a slow and disappointing start. I realized that the extra money I forked over for this particular tour meant that it catered to a more sophisticated clientele. And by sophisticated, I mean retired. So there was me, my friend Fracture, another 2 German girls my age, 4 old ladies, an old man who mumbled, and a middle-aged German couple. Later on in the day, we stopped at the airport to pick up 3 more passengers; two 20-something Swedish sisters and their mom. The mom and daughters trio made me miss my family so much and just added to my feeling of woe. As we drove the 5 hours it took to get to our first stop, Uluru (previously known as Ayer’s rock), the clouds began to roll in. This was a dense, grey, and none-too appealing development. We got to the rock and although it was pretty spectacular, I was getting anxious about the cloud situation. Was there to be no sunset? No glowing red rock? We did a walk around the rock and I do have to say that despite the weather, it was impressive in a way I hadn’t anticipated. People have told me it’s just a big rock. But my God, is it big. And it stands utterly alone in a flat, orange landscape. No one had to tell me it was considered a sacred place…I felt it as soon as I saw it. It absolutely exuded something mystical, and you’d have to be a pretty harsh cynic to deny it.<br /><br />Anyway, we did the walk and I was encouraged by a distant crack of light on the horizon where I knew the sun would be setting. As the winds picked up, the clearing grew until I was pretty sure that be would indeed have a colorful sunset. This bolstered my spirits, and having gotten to talking with the Swedes, I was happy to discover they were pretty cool chicks (I found out subsequently that one of them had sustained a nasty back injury after falling off a horse when she was younger, and that after 8 years of agonizing pain, she had to get surgery. That sure brightened my mood!). After the walk, we made our way to the sunset spot and I started getting excited. Things were looking promising. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-uluru-sunset1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-uluru-sunset1.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-uluru-sunset2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-uluru-sunset2.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />Steve, our guide, instructed us to make sure not to miss the 30 seconds right before the sun sets, as that’s the magic hour. We were not disappointed. As the sun inched towards the horizon, the rock began to glow red, and the full moon glowed even whiter against a peach and grey sky. I practically creamed my pants (sorry, but only a crude expression will do in this case). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-uluru-sunset3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-uluru-sunset3.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />I didn’t even know which way to look… I mean there was the rock lit up by the sun, but there was also the sunset behind that to take into account. I probably made my back that much worse in my frenzy to whip around and capture everything, but I didn’t care. It was the kind of beauty that just hurts. So that was the rock. So much more than I thought it would be. I’d have been happy it the trip ended there, but alas, we had two more days of beautiful things to see. Sigh. That night, we ate a delicious meal and slept in swags under the stars. I slept like a baby wrapped up in 3 blankets against the cold and clean desert air. The next morning, at 4 am, after a leisurely breakfast we made our way to the Olgas. The Olgas are even more impressive in size and scope than Uluru, but much less advertised. The aboriginals consider this formation to be vastly more sacred than Uluru and they don’t share any of their folklore regarding its significance. Most tour groups do sunset and sunrise at the rock, but Steve took us to watch an incredible sunrise over the Olgas instead. From that vantage point, you can watch the sun rise over Uluru while also taking in the first hits of rosy light on the slopes of the Olgas. Once again, I was torn between the two sights, and to make matters more complicated, my fellow campers had the most beautiful expressions on their faces as the sun rose so I tried to capture some of those as well. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-tom.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-tom.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />After the sun rose, we headed into the Olgas to do a 4 hour walk. They were beautiful and the walk though was pleasant… and very hot. After the Olgas, we were all totally exhausted as we made our way to the campsite for the night (which was guarded by a camel skull on a stick). We arrived at a totally secluded, serene spot where we were free to watch the sunset over the red canyon walls. I was awestruck at the desert sunset…there’s nothing quite like it. The colors are so vibrant and pure and they work together in a way that seems almost purposeful. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-skull3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-skull3.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-kingsSunset1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-kingsSunset1.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-kingsSunset2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-kingsSunset2.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-kingsSunset6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-kingsSunset6.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-me.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-me.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />So we ate dinner that night, and dinner included kangaroo tail. We literally put the tails of kangaroos, compete with skin and FUR, into the fire, and then when they were done, we broke them into pieces and ate. Primal, yes. Messy, you bet'cha. Tasty, indeed. Well, now I can say I tried roo tail…add that to my resume. I retired extremely early that night (about 8:30pm). Thank the neurofen with codine for that one! Once again, we awoke bright and early so we could complete our hike though Kings Canyon before it got too hot. Kings Canyon is a truly special place…it’s a desert oasis with lots of micro climates and it resembles a mini grand canyon. From the colors of the rock to the abundant plant and animal life, this place took my breath away. The rock formations are wild, and with the finely textured rock giving way to huge dome-like structures, you can literally see how everything was formed. I got a bit carried away taking pictures of my traveling companions, but I was getting bored taking pictures of red rock/blue sky after a while, and other things were more interesting to me (like hands, legs, a mop of dreads, and a beautiful little girl as into photography as I am).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-hands.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-hands.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-legs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-legs.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-steve2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-steve2.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-treeFrame.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-treeFrame.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-girl3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-girl3.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-girl4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-girl4.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />After Kings Canyon, we spent an hour off-roading along a short cut back to Alice Springs. OUCH. I spent the whole ride clutching my seat and praying… that was the only time I was truly scared about my back and I had no control over the bumps and jolts of the truck. It would have been fun had I not had a broken back, but I think I eroded the top layer of my tooth enamel grinding my teeth so hard. This was the road:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-jump1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/rock-jump1.jpg" border="0" alt=""></a><br />Thankfully the ride ended after an hour and though I was definitely hurting, I didn’t think any more damage. After the ride from hell, we stopped at a station where a man named Jim will sometimes bring out his singing Dingo, Dinky. If you’ve never seen a singing Dingo, you haven’t really lived. This dog, upon hearing a piano play, begins to howl. Not only does he howl, but he likes to join in playing the piano as well. It was absolutely hilarious. As this dingo has achieved legendary status in Australia and doesn’t always perform, I’d say we were pretty lucky to witness the spectacle. <br /><br />This is hilarious and definitely worth a listen (if you can hear the dog howling over my laughter).<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/O6d0XyFpoJA&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/O6d0XyFpoJA&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />After that, we pulled over to go on a witchety grub hunt. Basically, you dig up the roots of the Acacia tree and look for tubers where the fat, white worms are nesting. Then you crack open the root, pull out the protien-packed worm, and eat it. Apparently they taste like a mixture of eggs and almonds. I must confess, I was relieved that there were no witchety grubs to be found that day because I would have had to try one (and I wasn't too keen on it). <br /><br />That night, a bunch of us were supposed to meet up for dinner, but I was so beat that I couldn’t physically do it. I really wanted to, but the fatigue of my body was too overwhelming and I feared I wouldn’t even be able to hold up a conversation (plus my mouth was still all cut up on the inside so eating has not been a joy). So I missed my final farewells, but all in all it was a fabulous trip and I’m SO glad I did it. I wouldn’t have known it, but had I missed Uluru, I’d have missed out on a lot.<br /><br />So what’s next? I scored a ride to Adelaide and I have no idea what’s in Adelaide or what I will do when I get there. Par for the course at this point. All I know is that it’s gonna be coooold there. After 8 months of summer, I may just have to go into hibernation...much like the witchety grub.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-57056961483749278552008-09-10T19:52:00.000-07:002008-10-29T17:19:06.076-07:00Hot to TrotWhen I was a little girl, I used to obsess over horses. I drew them, dreamed about them, drooled over them—they were the embodiment of freedom, grace, and strength and I loved everything about them. Now that I’m a little older (and less coordinated, it seems), my sentiments have changed. As it now stands, I will be happy if I never get up a horse again…well, at least until I get myself some real medial insurance. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/face.jpg "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/face.jpg " border="0" alt=""></a><br />This really, really hurts. And if you can believe it, this mess of a face you see before you is not nearly the worst of my troubles (and this is already way better than it looked yesterday…my eye was totally swollen shut). When Dolly, the horse I was riding, decided for no apparent reason to stop short at a full canter and throw me off her back, I was pitched face first into the hard, red dusty road. My neck made a highly disconcerting crunching noise as my body followed my face, and I was pretty sure it was all over for me at that point. Somehow, I managed to roll over as quickly as possible to avoid being trampled under the highly agitated Dolly, and mercifully, the horse backed away. I stood up and was more shocked that I felt so little pain than at the fact that something warm and sticky was gushing down my face. My teeth, amazingly, were all in place, and though they had punctured the insides of my lips, it seemed that I had only superficial injuries and scratches. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. John, the owner of the farm took me over to a sprinkler to wash the blood off my face before letting me take a gander at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Everyone was telling me it wasn’t that bad, which of course, meant that it was pretty bad. Later on that evening, while pressing a packet of frozen brussels sprouts against my rapidly swelling eye and mouth, I managed to have a few laughs about the whole episode with the crew. I mean, I was alive, apparently not terribly hurt, and given the way in which I hit the ground, impossibly lucky. But as I watched my face continue to swell over the course of the night and noticed a marked tightening in my neck and especially in the center of my back, the laughter turned to tears. John gave me a massage and some painkillers to ease my growing discomfort, but I think all that served to do was intensify the swelling in my face. <br /><br />Just to give a little background about John (the guy who owns the farm), two years ago, he and his girlfriend at the time rode from the west coast to the east coast of Australia on horseback (Broome to Cairns). After catching 6 wild outback horses called Brumbys and training them (they needed horses well-suited and accustomed to the terrain), they rode them through the outback and it took them 5 months to complete the ride, not to mention the 5 years of planning that went into it. They were the first people ever to make that arduous trek, and though one functional eye that night, I watched the documentary that was made about their voyage (Dolly, that little shit, was even featured in the footage). The documentary hasn’t officially come out yet, but it’s really well done and engaging. It’s one of those deeply human stories that is just so inspiring… and he’s planning to do similar treks all over the world. I’ll definitely be watching his progress. <br /><br />So anyway, where was I? Well, my experience in Darwin has been….how shall I put this… one series of unfortunate events after another. Everything was fine when we arrived in town from our road trip. I met up with my friend Dom from Sydney and he took us all over Darwin. One day, we went on a crocodile cruise in a small aluminum boat where we came into very close contact with crocs 6 meters long. This unfortunate creature had its arm bitten off by a shark. Australia is a perilous place if even crocs aren’t safe.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/croc.jpg "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/croc.jpg " border="0" alt=""></a><br />You have no idea how big a 6 meter croc is until you get up close and personal with it. Wild. Over the course of a few days, we went to a really nice swimming hole, saw a few movies, went to dinner at the wharf, and saw some gorgeous sunsets. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/darwinSunset.jpg "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/darwinSunset.jpg " border="0" alt=""></a><br />We also went to the Mindil Beach night market where we had the pleasure of watching one of the best didgeridoo players in Australia perform. <br /><br />After the first fun-filled week however, everything started to unravel. Dom had offered to put me on a free company flight down to Melbourne whenever I wanted, and jumping at the opportunity to save some money, I decided against traveling to the west coast and opted instead to take him up on his flight offer to Alice Springs. I’d been wanting to visit Ayer’s Rock and the Olgas and was disappointed that we hadn’t made it there on our road-trip, so I figured now would be a great opportunity to check out all that I’d missed. But a last week, while walking down the steps to the outdoor cinema, Dom broke his hand while trying to demonstrate to us his ability (or lack thereof) to balance on the handrails. I had recently shown him this “motivational” poster and he jokingly brought it up again as he lay writhing in pain. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/retards.jpg "><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/retards.jpg " border="0" alt=""></a><br />But all joking aside, the fracture put him out of commission and made it next to impossible to secure my flight on the following Monday. Had I taken the Monday flight, I would have been in the clear and would not now be the subject of pitiable stares. Or, had I simply gone west, I’d have been in the clear. I’m kicking myself for my decision to go south instead of doing the west coast as everything is now in total disarray. But I won’t kick myself that hard as I feel I have taken enough abuse.<br /><br />So I can’t say all that much about Darwin other than it’s unbelievably hot and seems to have a vendetta against me and my friends. I’m currently on a 24-hour train down to Alice Springs and my bruised and battered face bought me an upgrade to a sleeper car (that’s over $400 worth of pity). I can’t tell you how lovely it’s been to lay in my own private little room (complete with a sink and towels!) and just sleep without the constant banging of doors, shouting, etc. It also gave me a chance to develop without interruption an idea I’ve been pondering for a new series of paintings I’m pretty excited about. Who knows, maybe if I hadn’t been put out of commission I wouldn’t have given it so much time and thought. I feel so much better now that I’ve had a good night’s sleep and that I’ve been mildly productive to boot. I’m praying that the pain in my back is temporary and that it will not be a lasting injury… and it would be a bonus if I could get out of this without any scarring on my face. I’m growing a bit tired of people taking one look at me and going, “Holy shit! What happened to your face?” I’ve been tempted to make up stories, saying things like, “yeah if you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.” But in truth, I’m way more concerned about the inside of me than the external cuts and bruises. What a downer…I’m just hoping I feel well enough to do my camping trip on Sat. I think I’ll be ok.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-75179266329129222062008-08-26T22:19:00.000-07:002008-08-26T23:49:57.309-07:00Into the WildReaders beware, this is my longest post yet.<br /><br />A few weeks ago, I posted some notices around port Douglas looking for someone with whom I could hitch a ride to Darwin (a city about 3-4 days drive away). I was feeling antsy for adventure again, and figured a road trip through the outback would be just the thing to satisfy my need for random ridiculousness. I got a few calls in response but most were from people leaving within the week I posted the signs and that was too early for me. To make life a bit more exciting, I managed to spill water on my already fragile cell phone, so I could occasionally turn it on long enough to check my texts, etc, but that was about it. I’d resigned myself to having to buy a new phone, but that meant having to get to Cairns (a larger city about 1+ hours south), and that also meant having to wait at least a week to find someone who would drive me there. In the meantime, I got a text from a boy named Sam who offered me a lift around the time I was looking to leave. I told him to come into the bar when I was working to discuss, as I had no way of talking about it over the phone. Later that day, I had sort of forgotten about that text, and when a tall, dark and handsome boy walked into the bar and said “are you Kayla? I’m Sam.” That was pretty much all the convincing I needed. We discussed preliminary trip details and all I knew was that we were leaving on August 15th and that we would be traveling in 2 caravans with 4 other people, all of them French. After a somewhat frustrating couple of weeks of trying to plan my next steps for my trip, it was such a relief to know that on a certain day, and a certain time, I would be leaving town with a stunning Frenchman to head off into the outback wilderness. The next night I went with him to meet our fellow travelers and thought they were pretty fun (although I got the impression, rightfully so, that there would be a LOT of French speaking going on). <br /><br />My last night in Port Douglas was just the send-off I needed. We got to leave a day later than originally planned, so I was able to spend one last Fri night out on the town, in a new dress and borrowed heels (the first time I’ve worn heels since Sydney…God that felt good…people hardly recognized me out of my backpacker attire). It was a good night and I got to say goodbye to almost all the people I wanted to see. (Not sure why my head looks so abnormally large in this pic...)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/port-goodbye.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/port-goodbye.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I was somewhat drunk when I got home and unsurprisingly forgot to set my alarm for the next morning. I was none too pleased with myself when Dave, the hostel owner came into my room and woke me up to the news that a “latino-looking guy” was waiting for me downstairs. I was hungover, probably still drunk, and I hadn’t even packed everything! Sam had lost his phone the night before and so he couldn’t even have called me to wake me up. Awesome. Anyway, I threw my stuff together as quickly as humanely possible and went in his car with him over to his hostel so he could finish doing what he needed to do. <br /><br />At about noon we were finally on our way. Our first stop was a beautiful swimming hole with a waterfall where we spent a few hours hanging out and swimming in the freezing water. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-firstStop.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-firstStop.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We arrived at our campsite after dark, but it wasn’t a big deal. The place was pretty well-lit and there was a really nice Irish couple next to us who invited us to sit around their fire (there was no way we could have collected any wood for one at that time anyway). It was a relief for me to be able to speak English freely. Even though Sam, Antoine and Thomas speak beautiful English, both Max and Elsa’s English is somewhat broken and the group often lapses into their native tongue. Given that I’m traveling with 5 French people, I knew that was pretty much inevitable, so when they do that I just kind of zone out and contemplate the vastness of the universe.<br /><br />Anyway I slept well that night and the next day we took off somewhat late to start heading west into the outback. We drove for only part of the day and hung out at this beautiful beach spot for lunch. That was the last water we’d be seeing for a while…we were about to head off into the interior of the country. There’s obviously not much to describe by way of scenery along the route, but the lack of scenery is what’s so amazing. I felt as we were driving like the emptiness of the desert was eroding the plaque-like buildup of my jumbled thoughts these past 2 months. It was very meditative, and very silent as well-- the MP3 player was broken and we didn’t have any music to listen to. We camped that night off the beaten path in the bush. There was no one around and it really felt like we were in the wilderness. Plus there was an incredible sunset to keep us company as we set up our tents. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunset.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunset.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Thomas, one of our travel companions, is a chef (seriously, what luck) and he whipped us up this delicious chicken and rice dish that I took no time in scarfing down. We had a pretty decent fire going, and luckily the frenchies were in their English-speaking mode so I was able to join in the conversation. The night sky was spectacular with the full moon illuminating the same cloud formation that had been present at the sunset. Beautiful night. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-fullMoon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-fullMoon.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We went to bed somewhat early and I set my alarm so that I could see the sunrise. It was by far, the most breathtaking sunrise I’ve ever seen. I took about a hundred pics, The pinks were just so hot and the sky was rippled with this gorgeously pock-marked cloud formation that spread all the way across the desert sky. I’d been hoping to get the chance to see a sunrise like that just once on my trip, and I was not disappointed. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunrise1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunrise1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunrise2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunrise2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I went back to sleep for a bit and we woke up at around 8, had breakfast, and hit the road. We drove for a good portion of the day and nothing eventful happened. We camped that night off to the side of a rest stop, had another great meal courtesy of our chef, and created a massive blaze. It was really fun, we were all drinking and sitting around the fire and chatting. I slept fitfully that night…it was FREEZING out and I think the wine I drank was also making it difficult for me to stay sound asleep. Then the birds started in at around 4:30am (they literally sound like a mixture of braying sheep and screaming women) so that was it for any attempt at decent rest. <br /><br />Anyway, we spent that whole day driving, and it was a looong drive. At mid-day we had a shower at a public roadhouse and continued on our way till well past dark. We arrived at the next campsite too late to bother making a fire, so we had dinner and I prowled the premises looking for cool stuff to take pictures of. I did manage to get some interesting shots, but because it was so dark out, I couldn’t get the right focus and some of the shots are way blurrier than I would have liked. This was one of the better ones… (the swirling light is me walking swinging my flashlight around trying to create a kind of magical effect).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-night2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-night2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />So the next couple of days consisted of driving and driving and camping and camping. Here a few random pics from along the way...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-silhouette.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-silhouette.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-house.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-house.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-camping1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-camping1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-dam.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-dam.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-truck.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-truck.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-van.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-van.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunset2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sunset2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />The sun was beating down hard during the day and as we worked our way north it only got hotter. At one point, we stopped at this funky little outback pub and had a “night out.” It was pretty silly. The women had to go onstage and howl like wolves at the command of the singer who was putting on a show for the crowd that evening. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-pub1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-pub1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-pub2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-pub2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-pub3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-pub3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />The first real break in routine came when we got to Mataranka national park. This park is famous for it’s warm thermal pools of crystal clear water, and it was a truly special place. Palm tress and gorgeous natural vines graced the riverside, and the weather was beyond perfect. There were busloads of tourists around in the main pool area, which was highly annoying, so I ventured out into the main river where, it was warned, fresh water crocs resided. I splashed about by myself for a while, jumping off of whatever I could swim to, and it took some convincing, but I finally got the rest of the gang into the water the next morning. We were, thankfully, left alone by the crocs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-thermal1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-thermal1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-thermal2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-thermal2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />After spending virtually the whole day in the thermal pools, we camped out and left the next morning for Katherine Gorge. Exhausted, a certain member of our tribe decided to take a nap... wherever he could get it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sleeping.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-sleeping.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> <br />We stopped first in the town of Katherine and I was saddened to see the downtrodden and drug-ridden state in which the aboriginal population there lived. Alcohol was introduced to them as recently as the 1960s and many have abused it so heavily that they were kicked out of their villages and have since begun populating the urban centers. The result is shocking. The Australian government belatedly apologized for wreaking havoc on their culture and on their family structures by removing aboriginal children from their homes to send them to live with white families, but the apologies don’t go very far and many aboriginals fell victim to drug abuse, alcoholism, and crime. What we see in these northern and outback cities are the worn out shells of a once thriving aboriginal culture. <br /><br />The following morning, bright and early, we rented canoes and took them out on the beautiful river. We found some insanely high rocks to climb up and jump off. We were so high up that it brought back bungee jumping memories as we took running leaps off the cliff face into the water. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-katherine1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-katherine1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-katherine2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-katherine2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Katherine Gorge was beautiful, but our next stop had something that Katherine Gorge didn’t. Massive waterfalls...and massive termite mounds.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-termite.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-termite.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Litchfield is a national park that encompasses 5 magnificent waterfalls and natural rock pools, and the water is fresh enough to drink (well, we took a chance anyway). We spent 2 days at this park doing nothing but swimming in every river we could find, and it truly felt like paradise (minus, of course, the presence of all the tourists). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-lichtfield2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-lichtfield2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-lichtfield1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-lichtfield1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-birds.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/outback-birds.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Sleeping was difficult, as 2 of us were in the van and we had to leave the doors open to let in some fresh air lest we suffocate in the stagnant heat. This turned the van into a bit of a torture chamber, as I spent the entire night not only insanely overheated, but constantly scratching my fast-multiplying mosquito bites. We were exhausted the next day and Sam was sick as could be with a throat infection. Our group of 6 has been sharing water, food, etc without regard for germs so I fear it’s only a matter of time before we all come down with the plague. Time to stock up on vitamins. <br /><br />We finally arrived in Darwin yesterday, exhausted, dirty, and covered in mosquito bites, but the trip was fantastic and was just the kind of rustic craziness I was looking for. We camped out at a site on the edge of the city and we’ll be hanging out here for the next couple of days. After spending over a week camping in the bush, it’s such a luxury to have hot showers and a real sink in which to wash our dishes. It’s funny how my perception of physical comfort has changed so much… I never thought I would consider it a luxury to have a working electrical outlet, but hey, that’s gold to me now. <br /><br />Since I’ve made absolutely no plans for the last month of my trip before I go home, I have some options I need to consider in these next coming days. I can go with Sam in his caravan to the west coast and camp out in the wild for the next month, or I can stay in Darwin for the next 2 weeks in my friend’s company house and then fly to Sydney for the remainder of my trip (serendipitously he will be getting to Darwin in the next 2 days and I had no idea that he’d be here before I planned my trip). I’m trying not to worry about what to do, as I know things will work out just how they are supposed to (the result of making no plans and going with the flow was this beautiful trip, so I’ve come to embrace the role of chance in my life more and more). Regardless, the next month should be pretty fun, so stay tuned for more posts (hopefully ones less long-winded).Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-60895646610443196242008-08-08T19:26:00.000-07:002008-08-08T19:43:03.432-07:00Reef MadnessI finally made it out to the reef! This was the first time I’d been diving since I got my certification, and now I can see what all the fuss is about. It was a somewhat rough start, as I had to close at work the night before so I didn’t get to bed until past 3:30am. Add to that excitement about the impending dive and anxiety about not waking up in time for the 8:00 pickup, and what that equates to is the worst night’s sleep ever. (I had already pulled an all-nighter the previous night…it was beach bonfire night and me, my co-workers, and some members of a band that plays here stayed up singing and playing guitar all night until the sun came up over the sea). So, I was totally wiped out before I even started the day, and you can imagine my glee when the members of the crew informed us that because of the very windy conditions, we’d most likely get seasick. Um, yeah. Standing up to put on my wetsuit was a miserable undertaking… I was pretty much the color of the water by the time we made it through some of the rougher patches of the ocean.<br /><br />But luckily, once I jumped out into the crystal blue water, all my discomfort faded away. I was in total awe. The undersea world here is totally surreal. Visibility was excellent, and we were extremely fortunate to see both a sea turtle and a reef shark on our dives. The first dive was amazing, but the second dive was jaw-droppingly beautiful. Because the dive was free for me, I splurged and rented an underwater camera. I probably spent more time taking pics than I should have, but that’s par for the course. These pictures in no way do justice to the real colors of the reef, but these give a pretty good idea of what it was like down there. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/reef9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Gotta finish off with the dorky thumbs up pic.<br /><br />So I’ve had a great last couple of weeks here. Last Friday, I had the night off work and I went out with a bunch of friends from my hostel. I was pleasantly tipsy when I heard my name being called on stage. The lead singer of the band that sometimes plays around here was inviting me up on stage to sing a song with his band!! He’s a good friend and had told me earlier in the day that he had a surprise for me, but I had no idea it would be anything like that. I put down my bag and got up there and sang Mr. Jones…and somehow managed not to totally screw it up. Amazing feeling. After that, we all stayed at the bar until well after close and then went back to my manager’s house to keep the party going. Somehow, dawn snuck up on us so we ran outside to check out the sunrise (the first I’d seen in Port Douglas). When we got to the beach and saw just how deeply pink and gold the sky was, I burst out in tears!! I couldn’t even help it, it was just so overwhelmingly beautiful, and after such a good night, it was almost too much. Now whenever my manager sees me, recalling the famous line from American Beauty, he says (as he sniffles), “Sometimes, I think there’s so much beauty in the world, I can’t take it.” Haha! I’m not gonna live that down. But he did tell me later that it made him realize how little he appreciates things, so if my tears served the greater purpose of making someone more aware of life’s simple pleasures, then my embarrassment was not for nothing.<br /><br />I’m sad to say my time on Port Douglas is coming to an end. On one hand, I’m just starting to feel like I really live here, and it will be hard to give up the small measure of comfort I have established for myself. On the other, most of my friends have already left and the place just feels different without them. I’m leaving town on the 15th with a bunch of randoms who are driving across the outback to Darwin. I had put up some notices around town last week looking for people who were headed in that direction, and turns out a group of people is looking for a final person to join up with them on a camping adventure! I’m game. I think I’ve saved up enough money at this point to live for the next couple months without a problem, so in one week, I’m headed out in to the great beyond with a bunch of people I hardly know!! Woo hoo! Now that’s Australia.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-2169993773957992642008-07-15T00:47:00.000-07:002008-07-15T01:03:17.228-07:00Oh, beautiful reef, the wait is over!Victory is mine at long last! I finally scored a free trip to go diving out on the reef (valued at $200) with my newly acquired karaoke skills. This past Sunday, I got off work early and hit up karaoke night with a bunch of friends from my hostel. I sang three songs over the course of the evening, and I can’t tell you how good it felt to have the entire bar, and I mean <span style="font-style:italic;">everyone</span>, chanting my name at the end of the night. That has never happened to me before. I felt just a little bit like a rock star… I think I may have even shed a tear. So with my mission to win that trip complete, there isn’t much I have left to do here other than to spend a few more weeks saving up more money to begin the next leg of my journey--whatever that may be. My living situation is pretty good aside from the fact that I live out of my suitcase and that the only way I can get a moment of privacy is to duck into my fort (basically, my bottom bunk with a sheet hanging down acting as a curtain). I live here for free as the hostel owner has discovered that I know my way around a computer and has me doing all the design work for the hostel (the menus, the website, the wall art, and a series of travel websites he’s needed logos for). It’s a great way to cover my rent and food, and I get free internet to boot which to me, is a gold mine in and of itself. <br /><br />With all my living expenses taken care of, I can put all the money I’ve been making at work straight into the bank and have been able to get back on my feet, financially speaking, very quickly. Work is sometimes great fun, and other times, it’s a nightmare. I always wanted to try bartending and I discovered I’m actually quite good at it. I can now whip up some pretty fancy cocktails, serve people standing at the bar, and take care of putting all the bills through… all at the same time. Then, late at night, when the restaurant turns into a nightclub, an entirely different skill set is required. Lining up tons of drinks and doing quick math and tripping over the other 7 bartenders in my effort to get to the till as fast as humanely possible makes the hours between midnight and 2am go by faster than you can say “drunk idiot.” People don’t seem to understand that when I serve them a drink, they will be required to pay. I tell them the price and they look at me with dumbfounded expressions on their faces for a full 10 seconds before fumbling with their wallets to produce 2 tons of change for me to pick through. I’ll tell ya, being on the other side of the bar gives one a very unique window on the world of intoxication, and it’s highly unattractive.<br /><br />But enough about work. I’m preparing to say another round of goodbyes and I’m not happy about it. Most of the friends I’ve made here will be leaving within the month. I’ve been so lucky here in Port in that I’ve found such amazing, supportive people with whom I share pretty much everything from secrets to late-night “illegal bakery” runs (the bakery here opens up its back door at about 2 am and sells pizzas and meat pies to all the drunks stumbling out of the bar). There is a cast of characters here to whom words can do no justice. We have Nico, our token crazy Italian, who gets fired from every job he has gotten here in town (he’s such a ridiculous person, he’s practically a caricature of himself). There’s Piet (pronounced “pete”), our roommate from Norway. He has the social sense of a 3-year old and good-naturedly steals everything “free” he comes across. He recently presented to us his latest conquest; a Palmolive shower gel left behind in the one of the stalls, and my friend Chris, our other roommate, was like “Piet, that’s MY shower gel! I JUST bought that yesterday!” Piet kept it and we all had a good laugh and teased him mercilessly about his thieving ways. Then we have Dahlia who absolutely kills me with her caustic and hilarious sarcasm. Here's a pic of us on a typical night out, and this is only about half of us:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ptDouglasCrew.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/ptDouglasCrew.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Our group of friends ranges from 18-year old Jack to 32 year-old Richie, and virtually every country is represented in our clan. I feel more accepted here than I have ever felt in my life. I was always craving that kind of openhearted acceptance in NY, but the pretence and the general isolation I felt in the city always prevented me from feeling like I was ever truly a part of things. Either the people here are way different, or I have changed in some major ways. I’m sure it’s a little bit of both. <br /><br />Anyway, I’ve been seriously entertaining the idea of doing some volunteer work in SE Asia for a month or so. I’d like to experience some real culture for a change, and I’m growing a bit bored of the local population here. If I may go off on a tangent for a moment, (this is a major generalization, and probably isn’t as true about people in bigger cities like Melbourne and Sydney), I have found that even the smarter and more educated locals can be truly bigoted and make inane remarks about people of other races and religions. One woman came up to me at the bar and asked if the old man she was with could take his unfinished bottle of beer home with him. I explained that because of licensing issues, one can’t take alcohol out of the bar. She informed me that the man was “old and Jewish” and that was supposed to explain why he was being so stingy about the beer. Hm. And that wasn’t’ the first time I’ve heard remarks of that sort thrown about casually. When I was in Yepoon, I was having dinner with a family there and my host said something about a group of people at a restaurant not tipping. He described them as real “Jewish types.” I neglected to say anything as I didn’t want to create tension, but in any other situation I would have, and have done so. Oh well, what can you really do or say? They don’t mean it maliciously; it’s just ignorance and lack of tact I guess. <br /><br />So, where was I? Well, In terms of my travel plans. the only real problem I’m facing is that I have to come home in October, and that will make it very difficult for me to commit to a long-term volunteering stint. My other option is to come back at the end of October and do SE Asia right. If I learned anything from my NZ trip, it’s that one month is not nearly enough time to attempt to traverse an entire country. If I can come back after October, I can spend at least two months or more in Asia instead of trying to rush it now, and I can also ditch all the stuff I’ve accumulated and travel lighter. Oh, decisions decisions. I’m going to spend the next 2 days I have off of work figuring out my next steps.<br /><br />PS, a few of took out some bikes today and rode over to the wildlife center. It was a really fun day… here are some pics of the sights we encountered along the way. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/habitat3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-29725871696504841862008-06-19T18:36:00.000-07:002008-06-19T18:47:35.718-07:00I heart Port DouglasI’ve been here in Port Douglas for a little over 3 weeks now and I apologize for not updating my blog more frequently, but truth be told, I haven’t had that many crazy adventures as of late (unless you include being pushed down the street in a shopping cart by 3 drunk Americans). It’s been slow at work as we are just coming into busy season now, so I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time sitting on the beach, hanging out at the pool, and playing (losing) chess. I’ve also been working on a photographic project that I’m hoping to have exhibited in one of the main shops in town, and my hostel owner discovered that I’m an artist so he put me to work drawing on large chalkboards for the lobby. I got a few nights of free accommodation for these little beauties:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/chalk.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/chalk.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Now chalk art may not be my calling, but I’m pretty excited to say that I will soon be putting my atrophying paining skills to good use. The hostel is undergoing major renovations and I guess I got here at the right time because they have asked me to paint some huge murals on the walls. I’m really excited about the project because it’s a hell of a lot cooler than cleaning the toilets to score free accommodation, and the walls will equate to some of the largest canvases I’ve ever painted on. I’m doing the sketches now and I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Yikes! But I can’t tell you how happy I am to get the chance to do something creative at last. I’ve been feeling rather like a piece of dust in the breeze, questioning everything, and it just feels so good to have some creative energy running through my blood again.<br /><br />In other fun news, I went out to the bar I work at for karaoke night a few nights ago and sang a few songs. I had met these really cool guys from Sydney who were here in Port Douglas for the weekend and was so busy chatting to them that I failed to realize that I was a finalist in the karaoke competition (I hadn’t even been aware that there was a competition on in the first place). The winner would score a trip to the reef and I ended up coming in 2nd place to a guy who was singing Madonna (he was actually really good). I did, however, manage to land myself a free day trip to Mossman Gorge and Cape Tribulation (2 beautiful rainforest areas about an hour north of here). Turned out the guys I was talking to were headed up there the next day and they invited me to come along with them in their car. At least I didn’t come away from karaoke night totally empty-handed! <br /><br />They picked me up the next morning and we went for an aboriginal tour through native forest. It was a really cool walk (even through the guide seemed to be using the group atmosphere as a forum to vent about her divorce/life woes). She showed us how her ancestors survived in the rainforest and walked us through several survival skills ranging from making paint from the ochre in the river to washing our hands with soap leaves (when you rub these leaves in your hands, they actually lather up and clean as well as a bar of soap). I have no idea how people figure that stuff out; their breadth of knowledge about medicinal properties of plants was astounding. After the tour, the three of us ventured up to Mossman Gorge where we went swimming, and following that, we drove up to the Cape to check out the views. It was a cloudy and chilly day, so I didn’t bother taking any pictures, but try to imagine a beach. That's what it looked like. Oh well, had the weather been better it would have been much more impressive, but that's ok, it was a great day anyway. We got back into town at around 6 and I was so exhausted that I was in bed by 8. Now all I have to do is win that reef trip and my title as queen of the freebie will be sealed!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-33447278994976905132008-06-04T18:33:00.000-07:002008-06-04T18:47:03.145-07:00Things are looking up! (fingers crossed)After leaving Magnetic Island, I had a few days to kill before arriving in Cairns, so I made a 2-day stopover at Mission Beach for a white water rafting trip. In all honestly, had I not booked the trip the month before, I probably would have opted out of the rafting due to my current financial situation, but it was a great time (and now I can say I went rafting on one of the most technically challenging grade 5 rivers in the world). Within the first 5 minutes of the rapids adventure, the girl sitting next to me on the raft lost control of her paddle and it landed squarely on my lip. This pic was probably taken moments before the swelling began in earnest. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/tully4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/tully4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />It was rather painful (it’s been a week and my lip still hurts), but luckily she didn’t manage to knock out a tooth as well. You can get seriously injured on those trips due to people falling out of the raft and landing on your head, getting wayward limbs wedged in between rocks, etc… it’s a rough sport and made my NZ rafting trip look like a walk in the park by comparison. <br /><br />Anyway, after Mission Beach, I headed directly up to Cairns for 4 nights (2 of which I barely remember). The first night, I drank boxed wine for the first time since college, and now I know why I continue to fork over the cash for alcohol products NOT made out of fish eggs. Yes, the ingredients boggle the mind. I literally could not even make it out of the hostel... the stuff is poison. The next night of partying was even worse…I have no idea why I drank so much, but I think it was a result of several days of stressing over jobs and where to go next etc, and having a ton of people I’ve met up the coast all in one place (namely our balcony). Something in me just wanted to really, uh, let loose I guess. Once again, I only made it to one bar before having to call it a night. So lame… not to mention pretty embarrassing.<br /><br />Well, when I wasn’t out acting like an 18 year old by night, I checked out the job scene in Cairns by day and it was looking pretty grim. Everyone there wants a job as it’s pretty much the end of the line for most travelers, and it’s really difficult to get work of any kind. I met a cool girl in my hostel there that was headed up to Port Douglas (a small, beautiful town an hour north of Cairns) to look for work, so I figured I’d join her. After all, there was no use spinning my wheels in Cairns for another few weeks looking for that elusive job like I did in Byron Bay. We planned to leave Cairns 2 days later, but before I left, I had to get some sunset shots. by the esplanade there (I also set my alarm for 5:30 am for dawn pics, but that didn't really work out so well).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/cairns3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />So we arrived in Port Douglas 2 days ago, and within 30 min of being here, my friend got both a job at the hostel working for accommodation and a bartending job at a local bar. I couldn’t believe how quickly things had fallen into place for her, and although I was happy for her, I was getting more and more depressed about my own joblessness. But that afternoon I did another round of resume dropping and, much to my delight, one of the managers at a really cool bar/restaurant offered me a trial run. I started my shift at 5 last night and was totally thrown into the deep end, but it was fun and I got along great with all the staff, so I think it’s all systems go. As I was walking back to the hostel after my shift, I met some locals who offered me a room in their place for $100/week (which is insanely cheap). I also might be working some days at a crocodile farm! (Details on that will be made available if/when the job comes through). I thought the night couldn’t get any more eventful, but at around 11:00 a few of us went down to the beach as we’d heard rumors of a big bonfire party. When we arrived, there were only a couple other people milling about looking for a fire that just did not exist. So instead of going home and conceding defeat, I started gathering some firewood and brush from the trees along the beach and convinced the 6 people there to start our own bonfire. Within 30 min or so, we had a pretty good blaze going, and an hour later there were at least 100 people there playing music and talking. Insane. I got home at 4am and I might now know half the town. All in all, it was a pretty awesome night for a sleepy little vacation town. I think I’m gonna like it here.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-41615230102923215362008-05-25T20:46:00.000-07:002008-05-25T20:56:02.150-07:00Deep ThoughtsI got back from my Whitsunday sailing trip five days ago. 3 days of sailing, snorkeling, eating great food, and hanging out with cool people was definitely not my idea of a bad time. For many a backpacker, the Whitsunday islands are the highlight of their Australia experiences, but I have to say I think camping at Fraser Island was a more unique experience. The beaches on the Whitsunday islands are very beautiful, but NZ scenery has totally spoiled me and even the most beautiful beaches in Australia just can’t match it. Snorkeling on the reef, however, was pretty amazing, and it was pretty wild when I realized that the strange munching sound I heard underwater was actually the sound the enormous fish make as they nibble at the reef. The colors and patterns of the reef itself and the marine life inhabiting it are not to be believed. The most vivid purples and fluorescent greens and everything undulating with the current was so spectacular… I felt like a kid in a candy store. We had to wear stinger suits as it’s not quite the end of stinger season (the jellyfish here can easily kill a grown adult) so a few of us rocked em out by jumping off the boat in the most retarded positions we could muster. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/whitsunday1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/whitsunday1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/whitsunday2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/whitsunday2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />At one point in the trip, a brief thunderstorm came through and left a full double rainbow in its wake. The rainbow hung around all the way through sunset and I’m pretty upset that I can’t show you what that looked like because left my card reader to my camera in Yepoon and can’t get the pictures onto my computer without it! I’ve actually managed to lose that, my sunglasses, my favorite black hoodie, and seemingly, my sanity all within the span of 3 days (and my little point and shoot is officially broken, so I’m pretty much useless). <br /><br />Anyway, after the Whitsundays, I stayed in the area for one more night to recharge my batteries before boarding a bus to Townsville where I’d be getting my scuba diving certificate. I’ve spent the last week or so at Magnetic Island which is about a 20 minute ferry ride from Townsville working my butt off to get that certification. It was more labor intensive than I’d expected especially considering the fact that the course coincided with the monthly Full Moon Party (which was definitely not worth all the hype surrounding it). But I got through the exhausting 4-day course intact and I am now a certified diver. Scuba diving is definitely a much different experience than snorkeling. It’s very meditative in that you are keenly aware of every breath you take, and you feel much more a part of the underwater environment when you’re totally free to move around within it. There’s an incredible dive site here called the Yongala (a huge shipwreck) but all trips out to that point have been cancelled for the next week due to high winds so I’m a bit disappointed that I’ll be missing out on that. Hopefully I’ll be able to swing back down at some point to check it out.<br /><br />So it’s almost the end of the line for my east coast leg of travel, and I’m feeling such a strange mix of emotions. Many of the friends I’ve made will be hanging out up in Cairns (the most northeasterly city) for a short while, so thankfully I’ll know a few people once I get up there, but I’ve had to say goodbye to so many people that I’ve grown very close to that it’s stating to become emotionally taxing. I sat on the beach at sunrise the other day and had myself a good cry as it hit me that in all likelihood, I won’t see those people again, at least not for a very long time. Along with the ups of traveling alone come the downs of knowing that once I settle in a new place, I’ll have to do the legwork all over again to keep making new friends. Once you get past the prerequisite barrage of questions about where you’re from, where you’ve been, what you do, etc, there’s rarely enough time to get much deeper before you have to go your separate ways, and when you do get deeper, it makes the constant stream of goodbyes that much more difficult. <br /><br />This might be sacrilege to even write, but I’m also feeling very ready to work (never thought I’d speak those words)! After 5 months, I’ve definitely become oversaturated by beaches and small towns and need some measure of routine and hard labor so that I can start seeing it all with fresh eyes again. I’m also feeling like a change of scenery is in order… once I save up some money in my next location, I will definitely make it a point to see the outback and am becoming ever more interested in checking out SE Asia and South America. I’m craving more culture in general (there’s not much culture to speak of here on the east coast of OZ), and the more tales I hear of fellow travelers who have been to those locales just make my mouth water for those kinds of experiences. I’m feeling much more confident to take on trips like that now that I’ve seen that it’s not so hard to navigate the ins and outs of a new place.<br /><br />I’ll be leaving Magnetic Island in 2 days and will be spending 3 days at another beach town to do some white water rafting before landing Cairns. If it’s as hard to get work there as it was in Byron By, I’ll be booking it over to Darwin ASAP where I know I’ll be able to get work pretty easily.<br /><br />Well, that’s all for now folks…all there is to do at this point is go sleep on a hammock on the beach. Nap time!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-16881210356183291162008-05-16T15:34:00.000-07:002008-05-16T15:44:31.097-07:00Sheena, Queen of the JungleThe town of 1770 is such a small town that the main street consists of one square block of shops. The hostel I stayed at was a beautiful little retreat out in the middle of nowhere, but despite it’s inconvenient location, it turned out to be really pleasant experience because I knew half the people there. It was a very chilled out, oasis-like place, and because I was surrounded by such good company, I felt absolutely no need to go out and paint the town red (however, had I tried to do so, it would have taken me approximately 15 minutes). <br /> <br />My friend Solene and I spent one whole day surfing and got a few fun shots. We had to surf really close to the shore (and really close together) to get the following pic…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/agnes1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/agnes1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />which made this pretty much inevitable:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/agnes4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/agnes4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Aside from acquiring a few new bumps and bruises, I had a really great day out in the water. The following morning, I went for a “beauty hike” where this very, um, colorful guy takes about 10 people on a 20 min walk to a beautiful, secluded beach to get painted with natural mud and oils. While the mud is drying, you get the chance to scour the beach for shells with which to make some jewelry if you so desire. All the shells on the beach have little holes in them created by worms that have burrowed through to eat the animal inside, thereby turning them into perfect little beads. I could have spent all day shell hunting, and the man who led the hike informed us that one girl he took on the hike a few years back stayed and financed her entire trip making and selling bracelets she made out of the shells collected on that very beach. (Then again, this came from the same guy that spent half the hike trying to convince us of the existence of UFOs and parasite mind control, so I’ll take what he says with a grain of salt.)<br /><br />After the “hike,” I went down to the beach to get in one last surf, as that will be the last time I will be able to surf for quite some time. I was feeling quite tired out after the day’s activities, but some friends back at the hostel convinced me to go for a sunset kayak. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/agnes2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/agnes2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I never seem to be able to resist the chance to go kayaking, even though I really don’t have the money to be spending on such activities at this time. It was good fun, but a big part of the allure for me was the good possibility of kayaking with dolphins and unfortunately, they just weren’t out that day. After the totally exhausting excursion, most of us left 1770 and boarded a bus headed up north. Everyone continued up the coast, but I got off earlier at a small, random town called Rockhampton to stay with some friends of a friend in Yepoon, a 40-min drive from the bus drop off. The people I was supposed to stay with couldn’t pick me up that night because the bus got in at 11:30 pm, so they sent their very nice neighbor, a fellow American named Randy, to come get me. As it turned out, I would be staying at Randy’s place the whole time, as there was not enough room for me at their house! No worries, I spent the next 2 days at Randy’s magnificent hilltop home eating great food, doing laundry, and reveling in the free wireless internet. After 5 months of hostel jumping, it was such a pleasure to sleep on a real mattress in a room all to myself. I had a very generous host, and the highlight my trip to Yepoon was an excursion to a very small and intimate wildlife center where you can interact with all the native animals. In most zoos, you can’t touch the animals and you’re surrounded by thousands of tourists, but I was in Yepoon and it’s not exactly the most popular tourist destination. What a day I had! Aside from seeing some of the brightest, most colorful birds I’ve ever seen (some of them looked like they had been tossed into rainbows), I got to live out my ultimate dream.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I will never forget what it felt like holding that little guy. He was so soft and cuddly, I could barely stand it (I had to resist the urge to run off with him). And he kept grabbing my braids! If it were possible to die of an overdose of cuteness, that moment would have been the end for me. After that near-death experience, I went out into the main area to play with some kangaroos and wallabies. They really seemed to like me…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/yepoon5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Haha! So much fun. Yepoon, random as it is, is a pretty special place if you have the right person to show you around. <br /><br />Tomorrow, I’m off to do my Whitsunday sailing adventure, which is a 3-day sailing trip though the Great Barrier Reef. I can’t say I’m dreading it!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-59600560570695579472008-05-12T04:24:00.000-07:002008-05-26T23:18:53.571-07:00Four Wheelin it on FraserAfter leaving Byron, I spent 3 really nice days about 5 hours north in a town called Noosa. I planed on doing a lot of surfing there, but the ocean was virtually flat so there were no waves to be had. It was disappointing that I couldn’t surf, but I ended up spending a lot of time exploring the town and was psyched to run into a few people I’d met previously in my travels. It was a pretty chilled out couple of days, and I’m glad for that, as the weekend I was about to have required all the rest I could muster. <br /><br />The last three days have been total action-packed rustic madness. The weekend kicked off with my arrival at Rainbow Beach, from where I would be leaving for my camping trip on Fraser Island. I got off the bus and soon after, joined 50 other backpackers for our prep meeting. The Fraser Island trip works like this: you show up and divide into 5 groups of 10-11 people. You don’t know the people (unless you’re traveling in a large group and want to remain together) and whom you end up with is basically luck of the draw. The group dynamic, even more so than the weather, can make or break your trip. The next morning, you meet in your groups and receive all your gear. This includes your Jeep, tents, food for 3 days, gas stove, pots and pans, and a map of the island with vital high-tide info (you drive on the beach, so if you don’t pay attention to the tides, you could end up as shark bait). Anyone with a license and over 21 years old can drive the Jeep…it’s a self guided tour and so there is no tour guide. The group decides where it want to go and when. After that, you drive around the island for 3 days, camp where you want, eat where you want, and all you have to do at the end is show up at the ferry with the Jeep intact and all your gear accounted for. <br /><br />So after our got divided, we got a chance to talk and get to know one another. I had met a girl earlier in the day who asked me to join in with her and her friend, so I ended up in a group that was made up of 5 girls and 6 guys. Everyone seemed really nice right off the bat. The group was made up of two 19 year-old boys fresh out of high-school, a couple, a Spanish girl, two old ladies (that’s me and the other 28 year-old girl), a guy and a girl who were not a couple but were traveling together, and 2 other guys whose choppy English made for complete hilarity when we played our drinking games). That night, we all hung out in the bar and went to bed early, as we had to be ready to leave by 7:30 am. We got our Jeep, chose our drivers, loaded up the roof (all quite time-consuming) and off we went. We arrived in the island and it was high-tide, so we had to drive on the bumpy inland road. It took a long time to reach our first destination, and we got there later than we’d hoped (we got stuck in the sand along the way had we all had to get out and push) but when we finally arrived, we were awestruck. Our first stop was Lake McKenzie. It’s a pristine fresh-water lake nestled in sand as white as snow, surrounded by small delicate trees. It was right out of a fairy tale. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser7b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser7b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser7c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser7c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The pictures can’t convey the true color of the water. I was continually surprised that the water was fresh…I’ve never seen a lake that looked so much like the ocean before. It was a truly special place, and sadly, we only had about 2 hours there all in all. It gets dark so early now that we had to leave to give ourselves time to see the shipwreck and to then find our campsite (always an adventure in itself). <br /><br />There was a storm brewing by the time we left the lake, and when we reached the shipwreck, the sun had already gone down. But the encroaching thunderheads added that element of eeriness that a shipwreck wants, so even though I was hoping to catch some afternoon light, the scene was almost more interesting for the lack of it. These shots are not perfectly exposed, but you can get the drift.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser3c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser3c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We did manage to get back the next day to catch a sliver of remaining sunlight so I got this shot as well:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />By the time we left the wreck, it was already getting dark and we were having a hard time finding our campground (it didn’t help that it wasn’t on the map and no one could remember the name of it!) Eventually, we did manage to piece together the name and got there just in time to use the remaining light to set up our tents and food. The campground we were using that night was on aboriginal land and is the only place on the island where campfires are allowed. This is a considerable draw, so most of the other groups, including ones traveling with different companies, were camped on that site for the night. It was a good time…we set up our dinner and had a feast, and after that all the boys were painted in white body paint in preparation for the aboriginal dance (the girls painted eachother). At the end of the show (which was actually quite good), everyone got up and joined in dancing. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser15.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser15.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I tried to go to bed early that night, but, um, no. People were shouting and playing music well into the night. Between that, the brutally hard ground, and the torrential downpour that began at about 4 am, I think I managed about 4 hours of sleep. We were up with the sun and happily eating breakfast when the next downpour began in earnest. I’m not gonna say that wasn’t a pain in the ass. Our stuff got totally soaked as were trying to load it onto the roof of our truck, and we still had dishes to wash so my friend Miriam and I ran out into the rain in our bathing suits and scrubbed the pans. That was a sight to behold. <br /><br />Once the roof was loaded, off we were, and in another hour or so, the storm cleared and the sun made its way out. At that point, we had arrived at our next locale; an incredible lookout point called Indian Head. From there, you get great views of the huge ocean and the gorgeous coastline of the island. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />After the lookout, we hiked the entire length of the beach on the other side of the point to reach a beautiful spot called the Champagne Pools. It’s basically a big rock pool, but really lovely and it was so nice to be able to spend the day there just relaxing in the sun. Determined not to be caught in the dark once more, we packed up early and made our way to our next campground…a deserted stretch along the beach behind some sand dunes. Wow. What a beautiful and hilarious evening. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />We watched the sunset and ran around acting silly for a while and all the girls got together to cook a delicious Asian stir fry (cooking for 11 people with 2 burners and only a pot and a small frying pan took some serious creativity). We spent the night playing cards, listening to music, singing and dancing around like fools. After we had totally gorged ourselves and were all gamed-out, we turned off the accessory light of our car and all piled together to look up at the gazillions of stars. <br /><br />We all did go to bed early that night, but once again, like clockwork, the rain began at about 4 am. This time however, one of the pegs came out of our tent and the girl I was sharing a tent with and I woke up in a pool of cold water. Joy!! So much for a nice leisurly (dry) dawn breakfast…we booked it out of there. Luckily it was our last day and we wouldn’t have to use those sleeping bags again. We packed the truck up as quickly as possible and made our way towards our final destination, Lake Wabi, This lake is an emerald colored fresh-water lake that sits at the bottom of a huge sand dune. You can run, roll, or do whatever your heart desires down the hill and land face first in the lake at the bottom. It takes about 45 min to walk to the lake, but it was cold and raining very hard, so some people didn’t want to venture out. Of course, being the insane person that I am, I decided that not only was I going to the lake, but I was going to jog there to avoid getting cold along the way. I recruited one of the 19 year-old boys to come with me, and off we went, running through the woods in our bathing suits like wild animals. It was SO FUN, and I think the rain just added to the experience… we made it there in less than 20 min and wow, jumping into that lake after 3 days without having showered (and frankly, sweating like pigs after that run) felt pretty good. I don’t have any pictures of the silliness that ensued when the rest of the gang got there because I didn’t bring my camera with me, but you’ll just have to imagine a group of 11 people running/rolling down a sand dune (one of whom was holding a poor, broken, useless blue umbrella). <br /><br />Here's a ridiculous picture from someone else's camera of me tackling the hill.<br />Sand everywhere? Check.<br />Mental problems? Check.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser14.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser14.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />We spent about an hour at the lake, but it poured the whole time and although that was pretty awesome, it did get quite cold. So we all ran all the way back to the car and some of us figured we’d splash around for a while and enjoy the rain… I mean, there is something really amazing about being outside in a storm like that.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/fraser8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />By the time we got back on the road (well, back on the shoreline actaully), the rain was easing up and the sun was trying to come out. We made it back the ferry with ample time to spare, and were back safe and sound (and dry) at our hostel by 2pm. I tried to take a nap, but that just wasn’t happening. I then figured I’d go online for a bit, but every time I looked up I saw someone I’d met from somewhere else along my travels. At one point I was talking to someone and a friend from NZ recognized my voice from across the room and came over to say hi. It was impossible to even concentrate... I can’t believe the number of people I’ve been running into (people I spent significant quality time with that I never thought I’d see again). So funny, and so comforting to be alone and still have friends everywhere. <br /><br />Anyway, tonight, our group had a massive feast all together at the hostel. We all got on so well…everyone was so easy-going and even the people I thought were quiet and reserved turned out to be such good fun. I’m so happy with how the weekend turned out, but will be grateful to have a few days to recoup before I begin my Whitsundays sailing trip (great barrier reef). If the group on that boat is half as good as the group we had this time, I’ll be an even happier camper.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-6360589445474617622008-05-05T02:22:00.000-07:002008-05-05T02:43:30.132-07:00Good BYron :(Well kids, the time has come to bid Byron farewell. I left this morning bright and way too early on a bus headed up north to begin my east coast month of madness. I have mixed emotions about leaving the place that has been my home for the past month and a half. It wasn’t always comfortable living in a room with 10 people. I was always waiting to use the bathroom, and never really slept through the night. I had very little privacy and getting everyone to clean up after themselves was a losing battle. My friend and I cleaned so much that we earned the nicknames Agee and Kim after the two meddling old ladies in “How Clean is your House?” If I’m the neatest one of the bunch, something is definitely awry in the universe. But living in such close proximity to other people also has its upsides. I’ve made such amazing friends with whom I share a comfort level that could not have been achieved had we not been sharing the same space. It’s hard to make good girlfriends and I count myself so lucky that the girls in my room were so open and funny and caring. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronGirls.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronGirls.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Every night was a slumber party–much to the chagrin of the one or two boys that had to live in the room as well (but they dealt with the overload of estrogen pretty well). Working in the bar was a blast. I only had to work about an hour a night and it was a fun, easy job with the added bonus of being able to drink for free (but also rather annoying on the night’s I didn’t want to drink). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBar2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBar2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />One night last week, in honor of the other bartender’s last night, the managers grabbed her and threw her into the pool. I was too busy hysterically laughing at a drenched Martine to notice that I was going to be the next victim. Luckily, I got my shoes off in time. After we got out of the pool, sopping wet and freezing, Martine grabbed a hose and sprayed everyone in the bar. It was absolute madness, but just a typical Tuesday in Byron Bay.<br /><br />I cried my eyes out on the street last night out thinking about my impending departure, which shocked those of my friends who aren’t used to seeing such wanton displays of emotion on my part. (The only thing they’ve seen me get gushy about was our friend’s huge cuddly dog that is happiest when he has managed to fit his entire body onto your lap). <br /><br />Thing I’ll miss most: <br />• Staff movie night (basically one big candy fest)<br />• Impromptu beach bonfires<br />• Quality girl time<br />• Delicious pies from the 23-hour bakery…the stuff of dreams<br /><br />Things I won’t miss: <br />• Annette jumping into my twin bed in the middle on the night because she’d claimed she’d seen a rat. I didn’t believe her, but the next night she provided photographic evidence. (Well, I won’t miss the rats, but I will miss Annette)<br />• Cheeky Monkeys, a club which might just double as Satan’s bathroom… the average age in there is about 19 and someone called me a MILF<br /><br />Despite my old and aching bones, I had a really wonderful last week, which included seeing a great band play, hanging out at a really cool bonfire on the beach, and surfing some perfect, gentle waves (I’m now a surfing addict). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBonfire2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBonfire2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBonfire.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBonfire.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />It’s a shame to have to leave now as I’ve been meeting enough locals to have job opportunities abounding, but the weather is changing and in a few more weeks, it will feel like winter in Byron. I, on the other hand, will be chasing the summer all the way up the coast. There haven’t been that many blog-worthy adventures as of late because my days have been rather chilled out, but all that is about to change starting now. <br /><br />I just arrived in Noosa, which is a lot like Byron Bay, only a bit bigger and more expensive. In the span of one hour, I ran into two people I know. I had met a cool girl surfing in Byron a few weeks ago and she turned out to be in the same room as me here. So funny, but I have a feeling I’ll be running into people I know all the way up the coast. It’s wild. So my plan is as follows: I’ll spend 3 nights in Noosa, then head up to Fraser Island for a beach camping trip. You are placed with a group of people and you drive around this amazing and unique island in a Jeep and camp out under the stars. After Fraser, I’ll check out a surfing town for a few days and possibly stop in a random town along the coast to stay with some friends of friends. I’ve never met them, but people are super friendly around here and are always offering up their relatives and friend’s places for me to stay in. Why not give it a go? After that, I’ll take a tour of the Whitsunday Islands (which are part of the Barrier Reef). It’s a 3-day sailing/snorkeling adventure and I can’t WAIT (everyone who’s gone has said it’s the best experience they’ve ever had. After the Whitsundays, I’ll do a white water rafting trip, and end up on Magnetic Island for the Full Moon Party (an annual all-night party) and a 4-day scuba-diving course. Where better to get certified than at the Great Barrier Reef? At the end of the month, my friend who is a pilot is going to pick me up near Magnetic Island and fly me to Darwin, the wild west of Australia (it’s reputed to be somewhat of a cowboy town with a pretty interesting cast of characters). Door to door service… gotta love it. Darwin is not that easy to get to and is a bit off the beaten path, so it attracts a different kind of traveler then the 18-year olds you’ll find heading up and down the east Coast of Australia. It’s also home to Kakadu National Park, which is purported to be the best national park in the country. I plan on hanging out there for a while and getting a J-O-B. Apparently there’s tons of work up there, so I think I’ll be ok money-wise once I start working. After this east coast trip I will be pretty much flat broke. But it will all have been worth it. <br /><br />Ok, that was a mouthful, but I’ll be updating as frequently as I can to avoid these long-winded posts. I’m SO EXCITED!!! (And also very, very tired). Goodnight!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-73439009051452371982008-04-22T01:17:00.000-07:002008-04-22T18:34:05.875-07:00To the lighthouseWell, I finally made it to the famous Byron Bay lighthouse. I went for a run up there about 2 weeks ago in the middle of a torrential downpour (which was actually a rather exhilarating experience) but most of the surrounding view was obscured by rain and fog so I although it was eerie and beautiful up there that day, I couldn't get a real sense of the place (nor could I take any pictures). <br /><br />So the other day, taking advantage of this rare bout of great weather, I grabbed a bike from the shop across the street with the intent of riding it up to the lighthouse to take some sunset pictures. I missed the sunset by about 5 minutes, and then realized that I had sand in my lens and it was making an ominous crunching noise every time I zoomed in and out. Perfect. I left the lighthouse in near pitch-blackness, praying all the while I didn’t hit an invisible pothole in the road on my way back. Well, that adventure clearly didn’t work out so well, but I would not be deterred and I resolved to wake up before dawn the next morning to capture some sunrise pictures. Prudently, I mentioned my plan to the guy who drives the hostel bus and he wanted to check it out as well. So he got some people together and drove us there at 5am (saving me the grueling ride to the top...thank you Dave!)<br /><br />It was a lovely morning... I didn't find myself taking that many pictures of the lighthouse itself cause while it’s beautiful, it is ultimately just a lighthouse. And there was something dark and slightly foreboding about it that I saw on that rainy day that I wanted to express even though it was a beautiful sunny morning. So I focused on capturing the place as reflected in dirty panes of glass and playing with light and shadow. Here are some of the better shots of the morning. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I'm throwing this next one in here even though I don't love it just so you can see that there is indeed a lighthouse there!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBay7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I hope I’ll be able to get back over there for another sunset before I leave next week. I haven’t made any definite plans to depart as of yet, but I think I’ll be heading up the coast early next week, as there’s no point in hanging around with no job while the weather gets colder and colder. The idea is to use some of my remaining money to head up to Cairns where hopefully there will be work available. The weather will be very warm and sunny (though you never know with this insane weather pattern) and I hear there is more work available there. I’ll be so sad so leave Byron Bay…I’ve been living here for a month and it feels homey and comfortable. I’m not looking forward to living out of a bag again, but I am excited to see the Great Barrier Reef and all the national treasures up the coast, so that will be some consolation!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-77749736701651946162008-04-17T02:44:00.000-07:002008-04-17T03:00:55.814-07:00Good lord, I'm a bartenderWho’s bright idea was this? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBar.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBar.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Ok, it was mine. After 2 grueling weeks working at the hostel café, the manager of our hostel pulled me aside one morning and said, “You don’t like working at the café very much, do you?” Hm, well I wonder what gave it away? Definitely not the ever present scowl on my face. I replied, that no, I indeed did not enjoy the café work (truthfully, I couldn’t have handled much more of it, it was really <span style="font-style:italic;">that</span> bad). So he pulled some strings for me and got me working behind the bar the very next night. I have to say, it's a lovely change of pace. You fill the fridges at the start of the shift, then chat with people for the rest of it (and try to avoid drinking the obscene number of Jager Bombs the manager keeps placing in front of you). Now that’s what I call <span style="font-style:italic;">working</span> for accommodation. <br /><br />As far as the job situation goes, it’s not looking too good. The surf photography job didn’t work out because they needed someone to start the very next day and I simply could not learn to drive the old stick-shift van in time. The guy who owns it is not an insured driver, so it’s understandable that he might not want me making a mess of his only mode of transportation. Needless to say I was very disappointed, as it would have been basically the best job ever. So now I’m still unemployed and have been going around EVERY DAY to every bar and restaurant in town pestering the managers about available positions. I’ve even gone so far as to post ads around town offering my graphic design services, but hardly anyone here even has a computer, so I doubt I’ll get any leads there. With nothing biting, and my friends in sadly similar positions, we started getting creative, Byron Bay style. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBooks2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBooks2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBooks1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronBooks1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We sold 2 whole books that day and made a grand total of... wait for it... 5 dollars. Let the good times roll! <br /><br />So aside from my general frustration at not being to be able to find any sort of work, I think Byron is really a pretty cool place to be. The weather has been very strange, with cold thundershowers moving through the area every day at intermittent intervals, making beach going extremely annoying. I have, however, been surfing every day at sunset and I can’t describe how breathtaking it is when these storms sweep through and send walls of water past the partially obscured sun, creating rainbows over the lighthouse. It makes for some deeply moving and spiritual moments when you’re sitting on your board in the warm ocean in the middle of a torrent of rain. These storms also make for some really beautiful sunsets on certain nights. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronSunset1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/byronSunset1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I think the plan as of now is to stay in Byron for another 2 weeks or so, then move on. I had no idea it would be this difficult to find work, but the effort is really starting to wear on me and I’m about to give up (of course something will come through just as I’m leaving). I’ve made some really fantastic friends here and I want to hang around until they take off, but when they go, I’ll go too. I’ll be making my way up the coast to some really beautiful spots (including the great barrier reef), so I promise this blog will get more exciting soon! <br /><br />As an aside, we had "staff movie night" (where we all pile on a mattress in our room and stuff our faces with unimaginable amounts of chocolate) and cried our eyes out over<span style="font-style:italic;"> Into the Wild</span>. It made me miss home so much!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-28239311165005269502008-04-09T02:01:00.000-07:002008-04-09T02:15:49.360-07:00The good news…is that I got a job!! A photography job! The guy I’ve been stalking about it called me this morning whilst I was slaving away in the café. He said one of their employees was leaving sooner than expected and that they needed someone ASAP. I almost shrieked with excitement. It’s really hard to find work around here, let alone fun work that pays relatively well. The main crux of the job involves frolicking about in the sea taking pics of the surfers standing up on their boards for the first time. Really taxing work.<br /><br />And now for the bad news. I have to drive to the lessons… in a MANUAL car. I have no idea how to drive stick (other than the few lessons I got about 6 years ago from a certain Rachael Shipkin before our epic drive from MD to FL). I also have to burn disks after the lessons are over and drop them off around town at whichever hostels the students are staying. Anyone who knows me well knows that my sense of direction is not one of my saving graces. There are about 4 roads in this town, which means I’m pretty much guaranteed to end up in New Zealand (I can’t even be trusted with one road…I inevitably go the wrong way). Oh, and did I mention they drive on the wrong side of the road here? I can’t even figure out which way to look before crossing the street. This should be interesting. <br /><br />So the guy in charge of hiring said he’d give me some driving lessons. He was working at the surf school part time as a photographer, but broke his leg and is pretty much bed-bound for a while. I’m sure it will be very entertaining for him to watch me totally thrash his car. (Ironically enough, he’s the same guy that was working here at the hostel and because he broke his leg, I had to work at the café instead of the bar. Funny how that one lost opportunity directly led to another one opening up for me). I’d call it serendipitous, but I have no idea how this will all turn out so I won’t say much more about it until I think it’s a done deal. And it very well may not be because of the driving issue, but I’m preparing myself for disappointment. If this doesn’t work out, I’ll just stalk the other surf company until the cows come home. I also met a photographer on the beach while I was surfing the other day and he offered to take me with him to assist on his shoots around the area. I’d have jumped right on that opportunity, but he’s an older gentleman and I worry that he may be more into hitting on me than helping me. So I’ll have to go with my gut on that one. <br /><br />And now for the even worse news… a boy was killed here the other day by a shark. He was a 16-year-old out with his friend on a nearby beach early in the morning yesterday when a shark came up and bit off his leg. His friend tried to save him, but he had lost too much blood. It was the first shark attack since 1993. So sad and scary… these waters around here are no joke. Also kind of scary that I joked around about a shark attack on my last posting about the jellyfish and the red ant attacks I endured last week. I guess one shouldn’t ever really jest about sharks.<br /><br />Anyway, that’s all for now. I’ll keep you posted on my driving misadventures…I daresay that given the current state of my knowledge about driving here, I’d be safer in the water.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-42695484200929315352008-04-06T01:32:00.000-07:002008-04-06T20:09:20.103-07:00Nasty Creatures (the land and sea variety)I’ve been working in the hostel café for about 5 days now, and I have to say I absolutely dread going in for work. I don’t mind cleaning in the least, but you can only wipe down tables, walls, shelves, etc so many times before you actually start to wear the metal down from constant scrubbing. There’s so little to do in there, and when it’s slow, I’m convinced the clock actually follows suit and runs slower. Sometimes, I’m tempted to dump the contents of the salt and pepper shakers into the grass so I can kill some time refilling the empty containers. It’s not only the boredom, it’s having also to deal with 2 rather unpleasant women who call me out every time they see me standing around looking for something to do and ask, rather derisively, if I’ve “checked the list.” Um, actually, I CLEANED the list. So yesterday, a few minutes after my shift had ended, I was making myself some food and one of the women pushed an order towards me to run it out to a table. Normally I would have dropped what I was doing and run the food out just to be helpful, but something in me snapped and I just looked at the clock and shrugged my shoulders. She didn’t like that too much, but there wasn’t much she could do about it other than to say some nasty things about me to the other woman and get on with her work.<br /><br />It strange that after all the time I spent living in NY, I still have trouble fighting fire with fire. My first instinct is always to be nice and ever helpful when I’m in the workplace, but niceties weren’t buying me any attitude shifts on their part, so, against my natural inclination to want to help, I opted to push back. We’ll see what happens. It does really pay to have a job here, in that you get meals, accommodation, and steep discounts on internet and board rentals, and drinks, but I’m not sure it’s worth feeling like I’m constantly fighting to keep in check the imminent loss of my temper.<br /><br />Other that that little glitch, my situation here is actually pretty sweet. I somehow managed to score myself a virtually private bedroom. It’s connected to the main staff room here, and one of the girls left and no one wanted it, so I jumped at the chance to be able to actually close a door and have some precious privacy. I can’t believe my luck… oh to be able to actually change my clothes without a towel wrapped around me! To be able to close a door and stifle the bleeping of the much-used Xbox! It’s the little things in life. The other plus side is that my fellow work-for-accommodation travelers are really cool. We all hang out together and it’s getting to be a comfortable little family. Also, I don’t want to jinx it, but I may be able to get a photography job at the surf school here. I’m going to harass them until they have no choice but to let me have the job, but as a plan B, I’ve dropped my revamped and totally fabricated resume off at various bars around the area just in case the job doesn’t come through early next week. I went through a funny process when it came to redoing my resume in giving the bar/waitressing work I did when I was younger more prominence than the design work that has defined the last 5 years of my life. It felt so weird, but at the same time, it made me realize that work really does not define who we are… that at the end of the day none of that stuff matters all that much. Work is work, money is money, and it’s all part of the experience of being here to do whatever it takes to fully invest oneself in the day-to-day life of a place (though that does not include allowing myself to be talked down to as if I were a child in need of a remrimand…)<br /><br />In other news, I took a surfboard out the other day and was all excited to get out on the waves. I noticed that there were very few surfers out and that the waves were also pretty flat. As I approached the beach, I saw why the ocean was practically bereft of surfers. Bluebottles. Nasty little blue jellyfish that come in according to certain wind patterns. They were everywhere, lying in clumps on the water’s edge and looking highly menacing. I was so annoyed that I hadn’t though to find out about the little monsters before I came out that day, and even more annoyed that I had lugged an overly large board out with me all the way to the far beach. I saw that there were a few surfers in the water (maybe 3 or 4) and I asked if they’d been stung yet and they said no, so I figured I’d give it a go. (Bluebottles won’t kill you, even though they do apparently hurt a hell of a lot). Well, it took all of 10 minutes for me to get stung. The tail end of a bluebottle wrapped itself around my waist and my leg. Then it got itself caught in my surfboard and I couldn’t get away from it, so it got me even worse. Fun times! I hightailed it back to shore to assess the damage. Eh, it was pretty painful and was leaving very strange welts that looked like strings of pearls embedded under my skin. I’d liken the pain to a bee sting. Not screaming, white hot pain, but enough to make me never want to get near the water’s edge when there are jellyfish in sight ever again. Sometimes, I just have to tempt fate, and then I pay the price! Later that day, I went for a run and was doing crunches in the grass when I felt a deep, burning sensation in my shoulder. My crunches seemed to have blocked the path of a wayward red ant. OUCH. I think it’s safe to say the pain was actually worse than the jellyfish sting. I had to laugh though…I mean, what next? A shark? (I really shouldn’t joke about that, there are sharks around here).<br /><br />Anyway, that’s about as exciting as it gets at the moment. In a few more days I’ll have some idea about how I’ll be spending my next few months. If the job comes though, I’ll be here for about one or two months, and if not, then I’ll just peace out and finish my trip up the coast before settling down in Sydney for a while to do some design work. I’m starting to miss it!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-32488592092134697962008-03-31T01:54:00.000-07:002008-03-31T02:36:04.770-07:00Alternative AdventuresCeline and I had a few days to hang out together in Byron Bay, so we did what any backpacker with a little time on their hands does…we went 1 hour north to Nimbin on a tour called “Jim’s Alternative Tours.” Nimbin is a one-street town, and it’s basically one big shrine to marijuana. With store names such as “Bringabong” (a play on Billabong, the surf company) and Rainbow Café, you get the impression very quickly that this is a pretty, um, liberal place. Busloads of backpackers arrive daily on busses called “the Happy Bus” and “Grasshopper.” You get the picture. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/nimbin1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/nimbin1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The cops leave Nimbin alone, as there seems to be very little they can do to crack down on the lifestyle there. So people just take out their joints and bongs and light up on the street. We got to talking to a local guy, and a burnt out/cracked out old hippie woman came by and started pestering him about her disappointing pot brownie sales for the day. He then introduced the woman to us as his <span style="font-style:italic;">mother</span>. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that Nimbin is not the ideal place to raise one’s child. <br /><br />Well, we spent about an hour and a half in the town, had a delicious lunch, then left to look at some waterfalls and took a tour of a huge tropical garden. The man who owned the place gave us some mini-lectures about god, religion, string theory, and philosophy in general, then led us on a half hour walk though his beautiful property. Yes, it was leech infested and yes, one attached itself to my foot. Pretty nasty, but no biggie, I came prepared with band-aids. All in all, I'd say Nimbin was probably the most random/hilarious tour I’ve ever taken. <br /><br />After Nimbin, Celine and I spent a few days just hanging out around Byron. We made friends with our roommates and went out surfing with them, which was so much fun. I was very tempted to buy a board, but that might just be crazy me getting the better of logical (almost broke) me. I started poking around for a job, but the leads were few and far between. (I decided not to do the surf camp job right now because I really can’t make any money doing that, and I imagine it might get boring given that there’s no town there to speak of. I can always go back later in the season). There are temporary jobs here for backpackers, but most of them are sandwich shop kind of jobs and it may be snobby, but I can’t help but feel like I don’t want to work at Subway. I was so excited the other night because a great job working at our hostel bar sort of landed in my lap. Basically, you work behind the bar at the hostel for 2 hours each night, meet everyone and hang out, and in return, you get accommodation and food for free. It’s an amazing deal, considering the nature of the “work” and the fact that I’d basically be living for free and could get a day job to help finance the rest of my trip. I signed up to get my RSA (a certificate that enables you to serve alcohol) and was generally good to go. <br /><br />Well, I was all set to start work last night, but one of the guys that runs the bar here ended up in the hospital for getting into a fight, so the job sort of disappeared into thin air. I still don’t understand what happened, but I was left jobless and a bit flustered as to what to do next. I was all prepared to take any sort of work here, but then all of a sudden there was absolutely nothing available. Not even laundry duty. I was told to check with the hostel café, and the woman acting as manager for the day told me they didn’t need any help there either. Celine left yesterday morning for a town up north called Noosa, and I was about 2 seconds away from buying a bus ticket to go join here up there for a few days. I mean, I’m fine being on my own in general, but on the rare occasion that you meet someone you enjoy traveling with so much, it’s really hard to let them go. <br /><br />After much deliberation and thumb twiddling, I decided to hang out in Byron for one more night. I had a feeling a job would open up and that the woman I spoke to in the café wasn’t the final word. I got into the café as soon as it opened and was able to speak to the manager who told me a 10-12 morning time slot just opened up that day and that they really needed someone to fill it. I jumped on it… I mean, it’s not ideal, but it will save me the cost of the hostel, plus dinner, internet, and surf board rental. I think that works out to about $30/hour for doing very very little actual work. So basically, at this point, I’m not spending anything and can focus on getting a part time job during the day (hopefully something photography-related). <br /><br />And now, my friends, let me tell you about my new lifestyle. I’ve moved into the long-term/staff “suite,” and have a top bunk in an 8-10 person room. There is a TV in here, which seems nice until you realize that it’s on ALL THE TIME. I’ve grown used to not watching any TV at all and it’s kind of jarring to hear it. But the people here seem really cool, so that’s a plus. There are some nice girls to hang out and surf with, and it’s refreshing to have people around who aren’t constantly on the move and with whom you can form more enduring relationships. The café work is so mindless that I even take customer orders. I basically clear tables, stock food, run orders out to tables, and when it’s slow, I clean. I cleaned TOILETS today. Not my own, mind you. I cleaned the restaurant toilets. Picture it! A far cry from my cushy advertising job in NY! Ha! But oddly enough I don’t really mind. It’s a better job then cleaning the nasty kitchen or folding laundry, so I’ll take what I can get…it’s just too bad the bar job didn’t pan out. Plus, as I’ve said, my idea of luxury has really changed since I’ve been traveling, and my standards are, shall I say, a bit lower when it comes to temporary backpacker work. <br /><br />I have no idea what’s around the corner, but I guess that’s all part of the adventure. Hopefully I can find a semi-interesting job to keep me busy for a few hours a day because lying on the beach all day is going to get really old really fast. I’m gonna spend tomorrow fishing around for leads. As always, I’ll keep you posted…Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-19756534042085813772008-03-24T17:22:00.000-07:002008-03-24T18:12:58.533-07:00Blues and Bumper CarsByron Bay has this amazing 5-day Blues festival each year and I timed my surf trip to land me here in time to check out the concert. It’s the busiest weekend of the year in Byron, and the energy of this little hippie town is simply out of control. My friend Celine and I got to the festival at around 1:30 on Saturday and met up with all the surf camp instructors/employeees later in the day. They are out of their minds. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I took my big, heavy camera with me and was kind of annoyed I had it until I started snapping shots in the afternoon. I had so much fun with that thing, and people respond really well to you when they think you’re an official concert photographer…<br /><br />Here are some of the shots I got over the course of the festival. Just tried to generally capture the mood and the energy of the concert-goers. I've never really shot people before so this is kind of new for me, but I think I could really enjoy doing more portrait work. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest11.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest13.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest13.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest10.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest10.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest15.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest15.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We stayed at the show till the very end and it was a great way to end a fantastic week. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest14.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bluesFest14.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We listened to some really amazing acts, including John Butler (I think I may have actually shed a tear, he was so good), Gotye, Rodrigo y Gabriele, Cat Empire, Beautiful Girls, Agnes and Julia Stone (really worth the listen) and many others. We had a three-day pass so we went each day and put in some serious hours. The acts were true quality and I’m so excited to have had the opportunity to listen to so many artists I’ve never heard of. <br /><br />So that about wraps it up for now! Today is Tuesday, figure out my life day. I think the reality has really begun to set in that I need to find a job, but not working for 2 months has completely spoiled me and I have no idea what to do with myself! Yikes!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-48432469051271752552008-03-23T18:12:00.000-07:002008-03-23T18:49:33.551-07:00The insanity that is surf campWhat do you get when you combine massive quantities of alcohol, 6 hours of surfing a day, and surf instructors who seem most comfortable conducting their lessons in the nude? I have no idea, but I’m still recovering from the experience. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I’m battered and bruised, scraped, and sore. My fingers and palms literally look as if I’ve run them over a cheese grater (probably due to my death grip on the foam board), and my leg is one big blotchy mess. But it’s all good cause now I CAN SURF! Ok, I can only get up on the smallish waves; I tried a few big ones at the back and managed a few, but overall, they still scare the bejesus out of me. I’ll definitely keep it up though, cause it’s a fantastic workout and it also looks pretty cool. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp10.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp10.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp12.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp12.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp13.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp13.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />So to recap, after getting back from NZ, I spent last weekend in Sydney catching up with a few people I met there, and headed for the surf camp bus bright and early on Monday morning. It was rather painful getting up at 5am and knowing I was gonna have to surf that day; given that that weekend was St. Patrick’s day and there was no peace and quiet to be found within a 100 mile radius. I arrived at the bus and cringed…it was 95% girls. My first thought was that there was going to be a LOT of drama, as large groups of girls tend to get that way. But as the week went on, I was pleasantly surprised that not only did the group gel extremely well, but I also made a few great girlfriends out of the deal. <br /><br />Our days went like something this: Wake up at 7, hike the 45 minute walk to the absolutely stunning beach, surf for 3 hours, eat a huge lunch, take siesta, surf for another 3 hours, eat dinner, then party on the beach. It’s a rough life for the employees I’m sure. We surfed at two different beaches over the course of 5 days. The first was totally isolated, pristine, and intimate and our group had all of it to ourselves. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/surfCamp3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />The second place, called Spot X, was more commercial… lots of different tour groups and a bigger, more populated camp. I got along really well with the employees of that camp and they offered me a job there if I wanted it. I’m seriously considering going down to work at the camp for a month or so to help out with surf photography. The deal is, you work for 4 hours a day and all your accommodation and food is covered. Any extra hours you want to work are paid (only $10/hour, but you don’t need any money there anyway cause it’s pretty far from the nearest town). Why not right? It would be prefect way to practice my photography, a great way to learn to surf, and a damn good time.<br /><br />So on the last day, we divided up into teams and had a surf competition. The rules were that you had to catch two waves and do a trick on the board to score extra points. Looking retarded also scored extra points, as did stripping off one’s clothes. Well, we were wearing wetsuits, so we won no points for nudity, but our team spirit carried us though and we tied for first place with the boy’s team. To break the tie, we had to stand in a line and each of us had to down a raw egg, relay race style. It was truly disgusting. Our team would have won if one of the girls hadn’t chickened out (sorry, pun intended). She just couldn’t stomach it. I felt like a frat boy. I have some pretty funny pictures of this, but I lost my scan card and can't get my pics off my camera. :(<br /><br />We all arrived in Byron Bay on Friday night and unbeknownst to us, the bars all shut down at 10pm for good Friday. I was a bit disappointed as that was the last night the whole group would be together, but I was so beat down from the week that it was probably a blessing in disguise. I tried to get some sleep, but there were literally 15 people staying in the room that night and from 6am till 10am, people would not stop moving around, packing, talking, etc. Sweet. It was extra frustrating given that a few of us were going to the blues festival the next day and I really wanted to be physically prepared for being on my feet all day. Oh well…<br /><br />Tomorrow I’ll be updating with Blues Fest pics. I’d have done it today, but we have one more night to go so I’ll wait on it. For now, let’s just say it was a perfect end to a perfect week. Stay tuned for tomorrow's post!Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-15492412100716653372008-03-13T22:19:00.000-07:002008-03-13T22:21:49.769-07:00UPDATESorry about the missing pics! My web server is down temporarily, and they will be back up in a few days.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-28587299774887978252008-03-13T02:14:00.000-07:002008-03-13T02:49:24.177-07:00Goodbye New Zealand!The last few days have been very relaxing, at least comparatively speaking. And of course, as soon as the pace slows, I get sick. But I'd rather it happen now, as I'm at the tail end of my trip and I'll have the weekend in Sydney to recover before my surf trip up the coast (methinks I'll be bringing board shorts this time).<br /><br />Anyway, to recap, after Queenstown, I booked myself onto a bus to head down to the most southerly point of NZ. It was a four day trip along the southern coast ending up in Milford Sound (a very deep waterway created by glaciers). <br /><br />The first day, we landed in a university town called Dunedin. Cool place, but the weather took a nasty turn and it felt like winter. I had 2 long-sleeved shirts with me, and I literally layered 4 shirts and was still freezing (I’m thinking that contributed to this cold). None of us were in a party mood, so a bunch of the girls in my room went to go see The Other Bolyn Girl. It was actually pretty good. The next day we headed into the Catlains, which is a really beautiful stretch of coastline famous for it’s seals, penguin, and sea lion colonies. The weather seemed to be getting worse, so luckily, we didn’t have much to do that day other than try to spot wildlife, which we did. We got to see two sea lions in their natural habitat, and man are they some silly creatures. They seem so adorable and cuddly until they rear up and charge at you (I saw this happen... it was pretty funny).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />We also got to see ONE yellow-eyed penguin…from about 50 miles away. It was unfortunate that the weather was so bad, cause in that area, there are lots of little dolphins that you can swim with if you’re lucky. But that’s the way it goes…can’t really control the weather so you hope for the best and sometimes you get lucky and sometimes you don’t. I’ve tried to stop worrying about it so much because despite some pretty rough days, the sun seemed to always be out when we needed it most. We also ventured down to a petrified forest on the shoreline. That wasn’t nearly as cool as the weirdness that lay on top of the rocks and petrified trees. The kelp, seaweed, and plant life that thrives in that area is as strange as it gets. I swear, it looked like an alien war zone. Long, rubbery tangles of material unlike any I’ve ever seen or felt littered the rocks as far as the eye cold see. The Maori used to make socks out of the stuff, but the thought of it touching me for any extended period of time sort of creeped me out. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I mean, this has to be entrails, right? <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Some strange creature must have slithered out of this... Is that a hand?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/catlains5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Pretty awesome :)<br /><br />Next stop was a place in Invercargill where the wind just does not stop blowing. The trees can seriously attest to this! The starkly beautiful landscape is sculpted by the wind…it’s amazing that wildlife can even survive in those conditions but it always finds a way. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/invercargillTrees.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/invercargillTrees.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />After that, the weather miraculously cleared up, and as quickly as the storm can in, it left without a trace. (I wasn’t about to trust that the sun would stay out for long, but indeed it did. We got very lucky). Our final stop on the way to the next town was McCracken’s rest. This is a bit too much McCracken for me, but it was a pretty good laugh. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/mcCrackens.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/mcCrackens.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Next, we made our way to the sleepy town of TeAnau and I finally got to get some exercise. It was the first time I had the chance to really move since my hike up the mountain (and the first time since then that my legs felt normal!) I took a jog around the lake and despite the fact that a serious cold was coming on, I felt fantastic. Well, unfortunately, that afternoon before my run, I had consumed 2 cups of coffee and I was up ALL NIGHT that night. Not in the best of shape for the trip the next morning to Milford Sound. It was a pity as well, because I had a good 9 hours of possible sleep that were totally wasted. I think sleep is more precious than money these days, and that’s saying a lot. <br /><br />It’s been said that visiting NZ without seeing Milford sound is like going to Egypt without seeing the pyramids. Um, this might be sacrilege, but I just didn’t get what all the fuss was about. Milford sound was really nice and all, but I thought it totally overrated. Don’t get me wrong, it was beautiful, with huge soaring mountains and a nice fjord flowing though it all, but I don’t know, I didn’t think it was worth the energy expended to get there. Plus, all the postcard pics boast mirror still water and perfect sunset reflections of the snow-capped peaks; we were there in mid-day and the water was somewhat rough so there were no picture perfect reflections to be had. To boot, the much-hyped “underwater observatory” practically made me laugh. There was like, one fish and some scraggly coral. After a somewhat anticlimactic day, we were offered the option of flying back to Queenstown rather than sitting on the bus for 5 hours. It was pricey, but we a huge discount and my friend and I decided to spring for it. OH MY GOD am I glad we did. Milford sound might be blah from the ground, but it it steller as seen from above. Flying over turquoise lakes, glaciers, winding and shining rivers that looked like molten gold…just…wow. The best part was that the flight was only 40 minutes so we got back to Queenstown 4 hours before the bus did. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://totalvisionmd.com/images/images/milford3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />So the entire day today was spent on the bus to Christchurch, out of which I'm flying tomorrow at 7am. That means I have to be out of the hostel, on a shuttle, at 4:30 am. That's gonna put me right on the road back to health! I am going to bed in 5 minutes.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-9427159598266789052008-03-06T16:55:00.000-08:002008-03-06T17:23:37.705-08:00On the 5th day, she restedIt’s official. I have now done almost everything on my list of “things to do before I die.” I had never included bungy jumping on that list, but I think it’s safe to say it was, and probably will forever be, the most intensely exhilarating experience of my life.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> <br /><br />Before coming to NZ, I had never even thought about doing a bungy jump. It just didn’t interest me all that much, I mean, it looked rather painful, what with all that flopping around and such. But people just kept talking about it, and no one I spoke to experienced any kind of pain or injury. Plus, everyone, and I mean everyone, said that it was the scariest experience of their lives. Of course, when I heard that, I was sold. I can’t turn down a chance to scare myself s**tless. So the day after my skydive, I was on my way to Queenstown (adrenaline capital of the world) and I signed myself to be amongst the first group on the bus to do the highest bungy in NZ. If I was gonna do it, it had to be the biggest one. The jump was to be that very afternoon, and I thought about waiting a day or two, but truthfully, I kind of just wanted to get it over with. The nervous anticipation started way before I arrived at the bungy center, and steadily climbed until I was literally shaking with fear. There were 22 of us signed up to jump that day, and I was the VERY LAST one to go. The bungy station is actually a cable car suspended over a huge ravine, and it’s the only one like it in the world. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/bungy4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> <br />They sit you in a chair, strap you into the ankle braces, lead you the edge, count down from 3, and you just dive into the valley. Everyone else in the cable car cheers you on as you shuffle to the edge, and you look down and totally freak out. It’s so hard to overcome your body, as it’s totally unnatural to stand so close to the edge of such a great height and everything in your brain is telling you to back up. And you can’t hesitate cause everyone is watching so when they say 3-2-1, you make your knees bend and you stretch out your arms and jump out into nothing. It’s an 8.5 second freefall. Close your eyes, count out 8 seconds, and imagine the earth coming toward you at 80mph. I can’t even describe how utterly amazing and how totally different it was than skydiving. The bungy jump is a REAL jump. The distance to the ground is something your brain can understand, whereas the distance to the ground from a plane is rather abstract and therefore less scary. In a plane, you have no control over the jump; someone else is pushing off and you have no choice. The bungy is all you. You have to stand on the edge and you have to push off yourself. That’s what makes the experience so much more intense. So I jumped and then the cord tightened, it was so much smoother than I thought it would be. I was totally high off the rush for a good 5 hours after and I have to say, even though it only lasted about 10 seconds, it was the best 10 seconds of my life. I did get the DVD, and sadly I can’t digitize it and upload it because the look of terror on my face and the number of oh my gods that came out of my mouth is pretty priceless. Conquering fear of that magnitude truly makes me feel like I can pretty much do anything.<br /><br />That night we all went out, as Queenstown is also the party capital of NZ. I had a ton of energy (probably residual from the jump) and I was planning on having a big night. Well, I certainly drank a lot, and it was a fun night, but I had made plans with a friend to go for a big hike the next day so I didn’t want to totally overdo it. 2 bottles of wine later, I had clearly overdone it. But I went to bed about 2 and dragged myself out from under the gloriously warm blanket at 9:30 am to prepare for the hike. I was not about to let a massive headache and some dizziness stop me from a 6 hour hike. No way. (ha). There were 3 girls that I brought along to do the hike, and my friend had brought one. We approached the trail and I realized that this was to be no leisurely stroll through the woods. We were hiking up one of the tallest peaks, and it was so challenging that within the first 2 minutes of the walk, 2 girls turned back! One simply looked at the trail and said in her very heavy and hilarious north London accent (think Fat Bastard in Austin Powers), “I can’t be bothered,” and turned back before setting foot on the trail (Sorry Emma if you’re reading this! You know your accent is amazing). The second girl went up a ways and also turned back. So then there were three. We were all hungover and exhausted, but also very intent on doing the hike and our egos would not allow us to turn back. So we motivated one another to continue the 3+ hour trek up the mountain, even singing military marching songs to help us power our way up. We had no idea what we were getting into, but the higher we climbed, the more spectacular the views became, and the less our hangovers seemed to matter. About 2 hours in, I was feeling better. I can’t say the same of my friend, but she was a real trooper and pushed herself through it. The muscles in my legs were piles of burning jelly by the time we stopped for lunch and we all planned on turning back. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />But a guy was coming down form the very top and informed us that it was only another hour to the peak (albeit, a totally vertical upward climb) and that the view was worth the pain. So we figured turning back at that point would be a huge waste of all our efforts and that we might as well give it a go. By the time we reached the top, we had consumed all our water and we were all losing control over our leg muscles, but the man was right. The view made it all worth it. An unobstructed 360 degree view of miles upon miles of snow peaked mountain ranges, crystal blue crater lakes, rolling golden hills, and the city of Queenstown nestled in between all of it was more than worth the pain. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/benLamont8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The sense of accomplishment was a drug in and of itself that erased all of the physical discomfort (momentarily). I was so proud of us because it was by far the hardest hike any of us had ever undertaken and we were not in tiptop physical or mental shape to do it in the first place. But we did do it and I realized that it’s all mind over matter in the end. If I can do a hike like that on 5 hours of sleep and a hangover to boot (oh, and serious blisters form my glacier hike a few days before), then there really isn’t much I can’t tackle. Anyway, the way back was all downhill, but in some ways harder on our legs than the way up. But it took less than half the time to get back, and we were motivated onward by thoughts of a soak in the hot tub at our hostel (which was just heaven, by the way). <br /><br />So in four days, there has been an 8 hour glacier hike, a skydive, a bungy jump, and a 6 hour hike up a mountain. That’s a pretty full week if you ask me, so today is my day of rest. This is the first day I’ve had in a month to do nothing... I slept in till 9:30 (SO late for me given my dawn risings of late). It’s a lovely day in Queenstown and we have been beyond lucky with the weather (a first for me) so I don’t want to waste the day, but my legs are not in any kind of shape to do much moving, so I’m content to update this blog and sit and process what my body and mind have been though. I met some people in my hostel who are doing the same, so I don’t feel so guilty ☺<br /><br />We’re staying at a great little hostel outside of town…I met a few like-minded girls who needed a break from the Kiwi bus and all the annoying kids whose sole purpose in coming to NZ was to get wasted every night, so we found an of the way place that is SO much more laid back and back-packer like in it’s atmosphere. Everyone is really nice, open, and traveling on their own, and I sat down for free breakfast in the kitchen and was talking to so many random people that I didn’t leave the kitchen until after I’d eaten lunch! So nice to see how different the travel experience is when you separate yourself from the more commercialized hostel/tour experience. This is what I wanted the whole time, and exactly what I will do when I go back to Australia in a week. <br /><br />So that’s it for now. Whew. I'm spent. but I might be convinced to to a bike ride around the lake once I regain muscle control over my legs...Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-34101548383054714392008-03-03T23:46:00.000-08:002008-03-04T00:33:36.841-08:00I Peed on a Glacier (and other adventures)Well, in all fairness, I kinda had to. Yesterday, we went for an 8-hour glacier hike and there were no porta-potties on the ice. It was one of the more unusual places I’ve, um, relieved myself. But in all seriousness, of all the crazy hikes I’ve taken, this one was by far the most arduous. Hiking to the foot of the glacier was hard work in and of itself. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/franzJoseph1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/franzJoseph1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />We trekked through rivers (wet feet), over the cliff sides, and under waterfalls (wet hair) for a good hour and a half before even getting close to the bottom of the huge block-o-ice. I had elected to be part of the “fast” group, which I came to regret because I actually felt I’d be better off jogging up the hillside to keep up with the other nut cases. <br /><br />When we came upon the bottom of the glacier, we strapped on our crampons, which are spiked soles used specifically for icy terrain, and up we went. And when I say up…<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I mean UP. The incline looked almost vertical and some of the steps were made for giants. I was struggling, and I pride myself on handling physical exertion pretty well. I knew if it was that hard for me, the smokers in the group had to be crying. We finally made it to a flat section (relatively speaking) and upwards we stomped for about 3 hours before taking our lunch break on the ice. I have to say, it was pretty cool to be sitting on a glacier in a short sleeve shirt overlooking a tropical rainforest. There are only 3 places like it in the world, 2 being in NZ and one located in South America. It was a pretty wild view. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />After lunch, we headed up for a while longer and found some fun caves to explore. The ice is SO BLUE, and apparently it’s even bluer in the winter when the ice hardens up. After the caves, we negotiated some pretty tight crevasses. This top picture is actually of one of the wider ones.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Our guide quite enjoyed stopping at the end of the ravines (and leaving us in a cramped train behind him) so that we could relish the feel of icy water dripping down the sides of the ice walls and into our clothes! Good times! AFter conspiring to kill our guide (but ultimately deciding against it), we started heading down the glacier at about 3:30. Towards the end of our trek down, the guides found a tiny hole and some people thought it would be a good idea to crawl though it. Um, call me crazy, but I can’t imagine anything I’d like less than scrambling though a hole the size of the inside of a tire and emerging soaking wet and covered in cuts from the sharp ice inside. But one man’s torture chamber is another man’s treasure, I guess! (And turns out, that was tame compared to some people in another group that took turns jumping into man-sized holes filled with ice water). Joy. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/glacier9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Well, I passed on the bloodletting, cause I knew we had a few more hours of hiking ahead of us and that the voyage was not nearly over even thought we were approaching the lower portion of the glacier. It took about 3+ hours to get back to the bus, and in that time I inhaled a muffin the size of my head faster than you can count to three. 8 hours of trudging up icefalls is enough to give a girl one hell of an appetite. <br /><br />After the glacier excursion, I was almost too tired to lift a foot, but had elected to go skydiving the next morning so I knew I had to be in bed early. The pickup for the skydive was at 6 am, which meant only one thing. Pain. I barely slept all night due to drunkards in the hallway and a chronic snorer in my room (and of course, excitement about the jump), so I was pretty tired when I woke up an hour and a half before dawn. So what else is new. Well, I have to say, jumping out of a plane is as good a wakeup call as anyone is likely to get. It was one of the most exhilarating things I’ve ever done. We flew up over the glaciers and the Tasman sea, and the sun rising over the mountain tops was breathtaking. I was all strapped in and ready to go. The plane door swung open, I flipped my feet over the edge and gulped. Then we pushed off the edge and began the 12,000 foot descent to earth. My stomach dropped and I concentrated on breathing through my nose and keeping my eyes wide open so I wouldn’t miss a thing. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Freefalling is…is...I’m actually at a loss for words. It’s simply mind-blowing. When the parachute opened, I was allowed to take out my camera and take my own pictures. Unfortunately, the sun was really bright so it’s hard to get an idea of the view, but here’s what I was seeing nonetheless. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive4.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive6.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/skydive7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />After the skydive was over, I slept for 3 hours on the bus ride to Wanaka where we are now. I missed lunch and half the view on the way over, but did wake up in time to see the following vistas out the bus window. I was awestruck by the beauty of the landscape. The glacier lakes in Kanaka are madly blue. And I’m officially running out of adjectives for beautiful. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/wanaka1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/wanaka1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Now, I shall undertake to fill you in on the few days and nights preceding the ice climbing and plane jumping madness. <br /><br />After Leaving Nelson, we stopped off at Nelson Lake up in the mountains. It was an absolutely glorious day and after a long walk thorough the woods, we had a stunning vantage point of the huge and crystal clear fresh water lake. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/nelsonLake.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/nelsonLake.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/nelsonLake2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/nelsonLake2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And the night before that, we stopped at a lakehouse for the night for the big Kiwi Experience theme party. Now, I was kind of into it. I mean, they took us to the dollar store and instructed us that the theme of the night would be “bin bags” which basically means just what it says. We all had to make dresses and costumes out of trash bags and wear them to the party. It was really quite a laugh. People got very creative. My favorite was a tux made entirely of trash bags…I mean, it was really, really good. Project Runway material. And another favorite was:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/binBag3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/binBag3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />It was a retarded evening and by 12:30 I was sufficiently sweaty and gross from wearing a trash bag so I called it a night (pretty much right after these photos were taken).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/binBag1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/binBag1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/binBag2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/binBag2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Lastly, the day before that, I elected to go horseback riding in Westport. I was told Westport is a great spot for horseback riding, but it was not nearly as cool as River Valley (I'm still kicking myself about doing the white water rapids there instead of the horse trekking). Well, it was a pleasant spot if anything, and it was fun when we let the horses gallop and canter on the beach, but what was NOT fun was <span style="font-style:italic;">my horse</span>. On our way though the trees and native bush, the horse would without fail, at 20 second intervals, yank his head down to munch on grass, thereby giving my neck and hands a good thrashing. At one point, the only spot we could really take pictures, I couldn't get my horse to stand still long enough to ge ta decent shot. So I got this one instead. Me. Sad. Stuck in a big bush. I mean, what is it with those horses? Are they lacing the grass there with equestrian crack? (This couldn't be a more unflattering pic of me, but I'm beyond caring). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/westport.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog2/westport.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Ok, I think I’m caught all caught up! A lot happens here in a few days, lemme tell you. So, tonight, I was gonna see a movie but opted to update this blog instead so I'll be in bed before 10:00 tonight. I can't WAIT for a good night's sleep. I feel like the walking dead. If I DO get some rest, I plan to do the world's highest bungee jump tomorrow (Nevis bungee). I've heard it's about 100 times scarier than skydiving, so naturally, I'm psyched! But I may just do the sane thing and give myself a day off tomorrow. The bungee jump can wait till I feel like a human being.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7505158046576249854.post-9658343172731207222008-02-29T02:25:00.000-08:002008-02-29T03:06:36.397-08:00Abel Tasmin Park wipes the floor with the CaribbeanAnd the craziness continues... <br /><br />We rolled into Taupo at about 4:00 in the afternoon and checked into the hostel. We were told that night that all the activities planned for that night and for the next day would be cancelled due to the weather. I was still holding out hope for the 7:00am skydive I had signed up for, but that didn’t stop be from going out with a few girls from our bus and enjoying a very silly, very random evening out. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/taupo1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/taupo1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/taupo2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/taupo2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/taupo3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/taupo3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Dutifully, the next morning, I dragged my exhausted, slightly hungover self out of bed at 6:30 am with full intentions of doing the skydive despite the protests of my body. It was cancelled due to dodgy weather, so I crawled back into bed. Probably for the best given the state of my head (it really was pounding). Needless to say, I was very disappointed to have to leave Taupo without being able to do either a skydive of the legendary Tongariro Crossing walk though the mountains. The weather was just miserable, and I didn’t have enough days in the timeline of my trip to buy any more time there hoping for the weather to clear. We left the city bright and early that morning to head down further south to the beautiful River Valley- home to one of the few class 5 white water rapids in the country. But first we were to stop for a walk in Tongariro National Park (hey, at least I’d get to see the mountain I was supposed to be climbing). About 30 min into our trip, the sky cleared up and was a perfect dome of deep blue. Figures. Well, I couldn’t be too mad, the big walk was already cancelled for that day so c’est la vie, at least we could do the little one. And the perfect blue skies made for excellent viewing of the huge volcano (Mt. Doom in Lord of the Rings). The landscape on that volcano is wild. It really looks like a lunar surface. I couldn’t get a good shot when we were closer to it, but here’s what it looked like when we were able to stop for some pictures:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/tongariroPanorama.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 420px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/tongariroPanorama.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Onward to River Valley. I was psyched to do some white water rafting, I mean after all the rain we had, the river was bound to be raging. At least the rain would work to our advantage this time! We got into the river valley in late afternoon and stayed in a cute/rustic lodge in the bottom of the valley. The place was spectacular…even in the mist and rain you could still tell how amazing it was. Then we heard some news that was almost too fabulous for words. Seemed all the rain we’d had hit everywhere BUT river valley. So the much-hyped river was very low and was a class 3 instead of a class 5. Wow, what luck. After much vacillation between rafting and horseback riding, I decided to go ahead with the rafting, because even though we had to take out small rafts instead of the big ones, they told us it was just as much fun. Liars. I think we spent 80% of the time waiting for all the little boats to come down each set of rapids, and 19% of the time actually rafting. I spent 1% of the time getting flipped over onto some rocks and getting swept down the river (which I have to say was the most exciting part of the day). Actually, that’s not quite true, they did guide us down a pretty fun waterfall where the boats went totally vertical. Sadly, I ended up not buying the pictures even though they were hilarious because they mail them to you in 2-3 weeks instead of just giving them to you right there. I have no idea where I’ll be in 2-3 weeks! <br /><br />After River Valley, we headed down to Wellington, the capital of NZ. But first, for some strange reason, we stopped at a shearing shed where old ladies shear rabbits to make their angora scarves and sweaters and the like. We got to watch a rabbit being sheared, which was rather disturbing, but I'm including this photo because the sheer (ha) size of this rabbit is simply mind-boggling. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/bunny.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/bunny.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />After staring at huge white rabbits for a good 20 min, we got back on the bus and made our way down south. Wellington is really cool, but I was only able to spend one night there due to my frenetic pace. I went out in Wellington, and even though it was a rather quiet night, I didn’t sleep at all due to anxiety about the following morning’s ferry crossing. On the bus the night before, the driver had told us about 15 times that although our names were on the list for the ferry crossing form the north to the south island, we had to pay for the tickets the night before by 7:30. I went to pay for mine, then got sidetracked and totally forgot about it until about 10:00 that night. I can only blame my complete absentmindness on the fact that I can’t hold a thought right now for more than about 5 seconds before it evaporates into thin air. I have the attention span of a 1-week old puppy. I’m hoping this is just a temporary condition due to too much stimulation and too little processing time. <br /><br />Anyway, I got the ferry tickets without incident the following morning; all my stressing out was for naught. I spent the entire 3-hour ferry ride asleep in a lovely recliner. I heard there were some nice views outside though. We made it into Nelson, the first city in our south island adventure, at around noon. From there is was madness trying to sort everyone onto busses, but we all got seats and sat in them all the way to a little winery where we stopped for lunch. We then went swimming in a freezing swimming hole, and considering there was no AC n the bus that day, the icy water felt like heaven. <br /><br />We checked into our hostel in the afternoon and some of us took a sunset walk to the “Center of NZ” which is, actually, the exact center point of NZ. It’s a lovely little spot on a hill overlooking the mountains, and we started taking some silly photos to commemorate the occasion. Now, in all fairness, when I got the idea to do a handstand, it was not meant to be this, uh, well… <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/nelson.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/nelson.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Sorry if I offended any delicate sensibilities! (Not that I expect my readers to have any of those...)<br /><br />This morning was a 7 am pickup for either a coastal walk in Abel Tasmin National Park, or a kayak trip for double the price. I so wanted to do the kayaking, but I really had to draw the line with my money so I opted for the 4 hour walk instead. Abel Tasmin is a gorgeous set islands and is one of the country’s most popular parks. The rainforest and shorelines are so pristinely beautiful, I was shocked that the colors I was seeing in the water actually existed in nature. The sand is very gold in color and creates emerald and turquoise lagoons that make the Caribbean look like a joke. I know the kayaking would have been spectacular, but the walk was not half bad, and at the end, I got to swim here: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/abelTasmin1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://kaylasportfolio.com/blog/abelTasmin1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />So I’m now sitting in a hostel with no working internet and am nodding off after every other sentence I write. All the little kids (my fellow bus-mates) are outside drinking and laughing and I’m too tired to move. I did want to go out tonight and check out this cute town, but I’m beginning to think better of it. It would be lovely to get more than 5 hours of sleep tonight… Dare to dream.Kayla Silberhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16043120809910504726noreply@blogger.com0