I think the hardest part of travelling is the few days before you leave; filled with anxiety, apprehension, stress and excitement.
No matter how many trips I go on, I always get these feelings.
For the past year all I have wanted to do was to get out of my comfort zone and travel, but suddenly my cosy bush haven looks like the best and only place to be. But then you’re boarding the plane and all those emotions disappear and you’re filled with new ones.
The feelings you get then are what it’s all about; the feeling like your life is about to change. Because no matter how big or small your trip is, no matter where it is or what your budget is, something will shift. OK, super cheesy but I guess this blog will show this, or else I’ll just tell you all the stories of my travels... starting now!
We started our trip with a stopover in Sydney; at first I was apprehensive about going to the big smoke. But after a day of taking shelter from hail-stones, seeing incredible storm clouds and lightning over a picturesque city skyline, walking through a shopping mall filled with bikini clad locals, watching turbulent waves crash as the sky turned from blue to yellow to black, and finally drinking wine in a beach bar surrounded by friends, I was in love with Sydney. The holiday was off to a good start.
We hadn’t taken the hellish flight yet.
We had it all planned out, get on the plane at 9.50am, stay up for about 7 hours watching movies and drinking free booze then sleep for the next 6 hours… Good luck.
The plane ride was hard to say the least, how is one to sleep when you have only been awake for a few hours? Wine just gave me a headache and there was no way I could spread out comfortably over two seats – I know I was pretty lucky, poor Tom was squashed into one. But that wasn’t even the hardest part – we had a 7 hour stopover in LAX, yippee!
By the time the plane landed and we were beyond buggered, and ready for a good nights sleep. Only problem - it was 7am local time and the airport was opening. We wandered about aimlessly, wide-eyed and awe-struck by the airport and all the American people, like we’d been dropped into a movie (I think it was fatigue).
Coffee. That was my only solution.
In the line for the coffee I recognized two people, a girl with blonde dreadlocks and a guy with dark hair. I was convinced they were from Tassie, but seriously, what are the chances? In the end it was bugging me too much so I asked and guess what… Tassie! Jess and James were also flying to Mexico but heading straight for the Yucatan to go diving. After some excited conversation and some staring into space we seated ourselves at or gates and didn’t move for the next few hours as we watched thousands of people wait, board, land, wait, talk, eat, walk and wait.
Finally it was time for us to board the next leg; LAX to Mexico City, after a few attempts of shuteye (so American now) there was no way I was getting any sleep. When we finally landed in Mexico we had more waiting (oh boy) but in line with an excited American guy who gushed over as about the 2000 Sydney Olympics, at least he kept me awake!
As we stepped out of the terminal and into the hot Mexican air we were suddenly alive with excitement. Our taxi trip was insane, we watched the city zoom by as the driver sped through the busy streets at 80km/hr, running red lights, overtaking cars and introducing us to the chaotic Mexican traffic.
One of the many bizarre parts of travelling is the rapid change, the day before you were in organized, peaceful Australia and then suddenly you’re in busy, colourful Mexico. Suddenly your checking into a hostel after 30 hours of no sleep, you’re opening up windows to the noisy Mexican night and breathing in the hot, muggy Mexican air. Then you’re fast asleep… finally!
More to come…
Last time I posted I was getting drunk in Asia, now I’m playing in the snow in New Zealand.
Everyone said to me ‘off again, already?’ Well yes I am and you know what, im never gonna stop! I have the itchiest feet in the world and I want to go everywhere and see everything.
So here I am in Wanaka, working up in a café on Treble Cone for the ski season. Currently it is 8am and I was just sent home from work – it was 7 and I was hating being up (but I was up) we were told there was too much snow – too much!! So as annoyed as I am to be awake and waiting for an hour for them to clear it, it’s a dam good thanng!
I had my last exam EVER last Monday and I spent the few days beforehand “studying” but really I was preparing to come here. I walked into the exam room and though “shiiiiitttttt” but the fact that it was my last exam ever made it all the better and as everyone says “PPs get degrees”.
So now I am coming to terms with no longer being a student, what do I put on forms now?? ‘traveller?’
I spent the next few days moving out of the best house in Hobart. I was pretty sad to leave, and honestly it is the best, amazing people, good times, lots of music and art and dancing. What could be better?
Packed up my room and my clothes (how the eff did I get soooo many????) and then packed my bags to come here.
Thursday morning I missioned to the airport and driving through Hobart I realized I had left my camera at home and it was already too late to turn around. Missed flight vs. camera.
So bugger bum shit. I am left with an iphone for my creativity.
Kind of funny that I graduated from a degree in journalism and photography and I don’t even have a camera.
So the next couple of days were spent travelling, a quick night in Christchurch and then bussing to Wanaka. I hadn’t really realized the extent that Christchurch was affected by the earthquake, seeing it in the flesh made it reality. it was pretty scary, the city looks like it was struck by a bomb and is in the middle of a war. Everything is rubble and cracked and deserted. A strange ghost-town in the midst of repairs.
The bus ride to Wanaka was beautiful, every single minute there were mountains, lakes, hills and sheep. I sat next to a nice guy (I forgot his name as soon as he told it to me) and we spent the ride chatting and watching South Park {as well as taking in the beautiful view of course}.
We stopped at Lake Tekapo and seriously this truly is the land of fairy tales. I feel like I am an elfin princess in a dream. Everything is just stunning.
First day of work was on Saturday, got up super early and caught the bus up the mountain in the faahreeeezing cold. The weather was pretty bad and I couldn’t see anything but spent the day in training and playing get to know you activities with all my now new friends.
That night the All Black whooped Ireland’s butts in the Rugby. of course i went for my sister country New Zealand and then spent the night dancing to reggae.
it wasnt easy to get in though, i didnt have my passport and was refused entry.
Apparently in NZ I have to carry around my passport if i want to drink.
passport+drinking=lost.
I managed to sneak my way back in and convinced the bouncer I had shown my passport – silly silly,
Spent the rest of the night getting my rasta moves on to some reggae bands.
I always dreamt of keeping this blog completely up to date but the thing about travelling is that you get completely distracted and completely immersed in your own little travel cocoon, forgetting that the outside world actually exists.
This is what has happened to me, in fact to the point where I am deliberately missing my flight home so I can spend an extra couple of weeks making my way around South East Asia.
So I am in Laos, I am currently on the most horrible bus ride from Vang Vieng (party mayhem) to Four Thousand Islands (chillaxing and being cultural). The bus is bumping and bouncing all over the place and honestly it is pretty difficult to type.
On a whim Kait and I decided to head to Laos, I had one week left and wanted to have some fun because you all know how boring Thailand is. Anyway I was over the delish food and the temples, not realllyyyyyy…
but I really wanted to go to Vang Vieng and put myself at risk of being one of the many who never return. And I honestly think it was quite possible to happen. To anyone, not just to me.
I had the craziest four days, well four afternoons, the days consisted of marathons of Friends, Family Guy and South Park, whilst consuming greasy terrible Western Food and trying to remember the events of the previous night.
In the afternoons we hopped in tuk-tuks and headed to bar one. Greeted with a whiskey shot and a wrist band (by the end of it you have an arm of colour and you seriously look like an alcoholic) and then you proceed to get a bucket (a sand bucket filled to the brim with vodka and other nastiness – for all you non-asia travellers), or if you feel a bit sorry for yourself you get a beer but its not long before you give into the lethal bucket, or the whisky train, or the musical tubes, or the beer pong, or the dancing. Aaa. Its kind of impossible not to end up doing something embarrassing.
But the funny thing is, we went there to go ‘tubing’ which is basically hopping on a rubber ring and floating down the river, stopping from bar to bar. As it is dry season, the river is really low and if you pop on a tube you will get a scratched back and not have a whole lot of fun. And also it’s a rip off and a con and most people lose a lot of money in the process.
So you basically walk from bar to bar, and most of the time you only make it to the third bar. I was pretty proud the day I made it to bar five but it was pretty dead and we soon went back to bar four..
and then its off in the tuk-tuk, drunkenly singing the lion king theme and heading to a restaurant for some much needed food and then on to bucket bar for free buckets. Yes the night does not stop (for the most of us)
So after four nights of solid partying – maybe I should say three and a half, as I gave up half way through on the fourth, I was pretty ill, tired, bruised, injured in ways that could only happen in asia (motorbike burn – HOW???) and I was ready to leave….
Unfortunately I did not get one single picture whilst I was in vang vieng, so here are some others of my adventures…
I admit it, I am a country girl. Because trust me, in comparison to Jakarta, Hobart is a small village in the middle of the countryside.
I am getting over the headaches, the coughing from the pollution, the noise, the smells, the smoggy skies, the traffic. But I am still having a good time. I just need to rant sometimes.
The best solution for a city hangover is an escape to the country. Or a Jakartan version of the country.
A few weekends ago we went on a trip to Bogor to visit CIFOR, an organization that focuses on the world’s forest and their destructions impacts to climate change. We went into the forest and skipped among the trees with our umbrellas.
It was like a breath of fresh air. No really, it was a breath of fresh air. No pollution in my lungs. Yes!
I also took some nice photos. I tend to get my best shots when I am under the influence of bintang. I think a little bit of alcohol goes a long way in my photography skills….
Craving fresh air, we went back to Bogor last weekend and frolicked through the grass like children. i will never again take for granted wide open spaces and green grass!
I might add that I have been working here at the Jakarta Globe. Haha, that is why I am here. And I have been getting published. My first story was the other day and I (kind of) got front page. My puff daddy, as they call it here (how cool is that?), was front page, getting readers to read my story. so yeah, read it!
http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/health/experts-call-on-indonesian-public-to-swat-dengue-fever/494975