Homecoming
01 Feb 2011 Leave a Comment
My view is the twinkly northern stars and the cities glow beneath the clouds.
A slice of Sbarro and a mini Sutter Home Cab is my dinner on our final leg, Cincinnati to BDL.
Our trip home began in Coogee Beach with a peek at the sunrise behind our hotel blinds.
The 1:15pm V Australia departure , SYD to LAX will lead us home to our sweet friends and family.
4 movies, 2 meals, 1 snack and entirely too little sleep we landed in LA.
Crass…brash.
With a strange shepherding urge, I keep my children close (hadn’t even crossed my mind for 60 days).
We say goodbye to our traveling family as they are choosing a slower, 1 day later, east coast approach.
While on the big flight it occurred to me that military vs. standard time had messed with my itinerary.
V Australia uses military time while Delta does not.
We were booked to land in LA @ 8 and depart from LA @ 10:55 (cool, a 3 hour layover seemed perfect).
BUT 8 was a.m. and 10:55 was p.m.! whoopsies!
…a 12 hour mistake can be rough when recovering a 12 hour time change.
Delta Special services here I come!
…a mere $55 saved the day and plunked us on the 11:05 AM through Cincinnati, phew.
We are now scheduled to land in Hartford at the same time we were booked to leave LA.
Imagine the shock coursing through Evan as I delight him with the news that he has
12 fewer hours to prepare for our homecoming.
New Zealand
27 Jan 2011 2 Comments
New Zealand….
Potts Point
16 Jan 2011 Leave a Comment
Frangipani perfumed air greeted me this morning.
Waxy, white with yellow center tree flowers,
whose scent is cosmetic-counter pungent,
and intoxicatingly delightful.
Having had enough sleep, I ventured on my first Sydney morning walk.
Macleay “serviced apartments” sits at 28 Macleay Street, Potts Point.
Potts Points is sandwiched between the high ground of funky/seedy Kings Cross
and 109 steps down to the Naval yard.
Out the building and down toward Navy I stop every 50 feet or
so to pick up a freshly fallen flower from the sidewalk.
A left near the ships where I pass dribbles and drabs of young camoflauged
sailers making their way to work.
Instead of falling into our usual commute to the city, which finds the Botanical Gardens,
I head up the hill, winding past harbor view apartments with random
car campers sprinkled along the way… hatches cracked for fresh air.
Streets that are unfamiliar in any city, if I know I am far from home,
a couple of lefts sets me right.
Choosing to do so… left and up the hill.
The Un-cha Un-cha of last nights disco still raging hits my ears while the
urine odor in the ally nearly gags me.
I am in Kings Cross.
Friends stumble by.
The nights lovers kiss goodbye at the corner.
It’s 6:30 on Sunday morning and I am grateful
to not feel a night of drinking sloshing in my stomach
or swirling in my head.
I cut off through the nearest clean path, a small garden park,
back to small village shops, quaint restaurants,
Frangipani confetti-ed street, our Sydney home,
Potts Point.
Seat 7 E
14 Jan 2011 1 Comment
Learnin’ the lingo
12 Jan 2011 3 Comments
EVERY Aussie we have met has been kind, warm, and mildly charmed by our American accents
(HA!…much to my delight… and SO not what I am used to)
and I have been doubly charmed by theirs!
Warm, buttery Boston…soft, no R s.
Assured that there would be no language barrier…no translating necessary or cd’s to drill new lingo into our heads, we journeyed to the other side of our world.
Casual : relaxed : laid back, is the way I would describe the Australians I’ve met on this trip.
The wonderful accent and the new lingo we have picked up only brushes the surface of the language that in no way represents the English I learnt… (here, that is ok!… Anne’ll kill me)
I must share the ones I hear every day and are dear to my heart:
“good on ya” = way to go! (my fave, this is the one I will adopt)
“no worries” = you’re welcome, it’s alright or cool
“ta” = you’re welcome, or no worries
“mate” = friend, pal, or perfect stranger
( a police officer called me this twice so I am a bit confused)
“mate” is fine for Americans to use, just don’t put “g’day”
in front or you look like a super dorky tourist!
“bloke” = guy / dude
“trolly” = grocery cart
“bin” = trash can
“boot” = trunk of the car
“bar-be” = outdoor potluck, whether bar-be-d or not
“breakies” = breakfast
“tea” = any meal after breakies
“beautiful” or “gorgeous” = 2 gorgeous little adjectives to describe anything, animate or not
(I have already adopted this)
“Jacaranda Chalet Cottage” Maleny, Queensland = beautiful hillside cottage where we spent 4 gorgeous soaky days
The not so Sunshiney Coast
09 Jan 2011 1 Comment
The roar of the rain ebbs and flows and flows and flows.
Birdsong is muted.
Evan pulls the pillow over his sleepy head.
Not much wind but a dumping of torrential rain.
Tropical plants turn their faces up and take it.
A dash to the car fills your shoes.
Umbrellas useless, we soak sideways.
It took us 3 days to make it all the way to the beach on this “Sunshine Coast”,
a usual 20 minute drive.
Each day, we slather the sunblock.
Determined… but raincoats and towels packed.
Evan is doing most of the driving now as I am a good (patient and strangely calm) navigator.
Pull-over-to-the-side-of-the-road downpours and a bizillion roundabouts have
been a little more then un-nerving coaxing the turnarounds.
2 morning walks have become me sneaking
to mooch wi-fi parked in front of the Pomona Police station.
Drippy photography of Kookaburra on the wire. 
Windows steaming.
A Skype with mom.
Not letting this change of expectations get us down,
Sun shined indoors.
Games of Farkle.
Dress -up trunk exhausted.
Bird and possum watching.
Coffee sipped.
Books read.
Brochures perused of all the activities we will never do.
Cooroora
06 Jan 2011 Leave a Comment
Pomona, Queensland: 1, 2 hour flight,1 hour time change, 1 1/2 hour drive and we are in the tropics.
(don’t worry dad, 6 hours from floods)
“Old School” is the name of the 100 year old house we are staying in for 4 nights, roomy
with cozy seating areas everywhere I would have put them in and out of doors.
The decorative touches antique and zen-y.
We sit at the base of Cooroora mountain.
This mornings walk took me in search of the trailhead.
Left out of the driveway, reminding myself to walk on the right side of this narrowly paved road.
Only 200 Meters up, Cooroora Park on the right
the trailhead just across from it.
“1K, 1 hour return”… no worries!
Excited to be in a new area and on an adventure I’m really moving.
a wide dirt and gravel trail is littered with paper bark and eucalyptus leaves.
Birdsong is deafening.
trail narrowing begins to switchback.
I encounter a fellow hiker coming down.
encumbered with a camera and walking stick he tells ME I have too much gear.
as the nearly naked man passes I look down and feel the “stick” of my thick cotton capris
and 3/4 length sleeve top.
dirt turns to ledge and slimy clay.
a chain appears at just the right time as a helping hand.
metal stairs for a while THEN it gets steep.
body hugging ledge, hand over hand crawling vertically.
my heart rate is rocking and I sincerely regret not bringing water.
another “mate” passes…looking up I ask “how is it coming down”?…
“fine, if not head first” (gulp)
every 20 steps or so I stop to catch my wind, turning around to a
most amazing view… lush.
My hockey quads are saving me / my vacation imbibing is cursing me.
looking up to realize the next step is at my shoulder, I am discouraged.
thirsty. shaky. and considering not going all the way.
2 more “blokes”, tell me just one more turn…
of course I’m going to see it through.
I made it!
the top is really the tippity tip top.
Shear drop offs on each side 360 degree views.
3 paces wide, 20 yards long.
I sit, in awe.
moved to prayers of graitude, my eyes well up.
My Everest.
