The Vacation Ends...and into the Bush

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  Caloundra, Australia
Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Day 8 September 11, 2007

I talked with my mom today over Skype (which, for those who haven't discovered it yet, is an AMAZING telecommunications program-www.skype.com) and she asked me what the gecko's name is. His name is Bertrand and I caught a glimpse of him today when he EEP!ed while Heath and I were playing pool and I discovered him scrunched between a pegboard and the brick wall in the far corner of the garage. We looked at each other for a long while and I'm pretty sure he was giving me the ol' Spaghetti Western stinkeye. Yep, we were having a right-ol' staring contest for a furious minute, before I realized that geckos don't have eyelids and so cannot physically blink. So at that point I kinda gave up the contest and went back to pool.

Anyway, today was equally laid back as yesterday. I woke up after Jane and the kids had already left the house and broke my fast, drank my coffee, checked my email, and read some of my book before even considering going for a run. At around 1:30 I decide it was time to leave the house, and went out into the painfully bright daylight and did my usual run to Currimundi Lake. I always take a different route, and there are times when I wonder if I will actually find my way back. But I do, and it's because I'm a man. A man who's not afraid to not be afraid to ask for directions.

Other than the absolute perfection of the weather, the only thing that merits noting is that I saw a white-faced heron. And I know what you're thinking-Well, blimey you don't usually see white-faced herons this time of the year, and especially not in that semi-anadromous phenological ontogenic cycle. Not after a humid vernal equinox. But nonetheless... (Oh, yes, and for those who may have suspected it, that was all nonsense. But I did see one.)

In any case, none of these extraordinary and noteworthy occurrences can compare with my first surfing lesson. Neil set us up with a very experienced and enthusiastic instructor (Gary) who quickly taught us the basics of surfing. Such as. (In a deliberately random order.) Paddling, carrying the board, surfing, dodging other surfers, standing up on the board, turning, not spearing your cousin, signaling for help, not nose diving into a wave, not telling people there are sharks everywhere, balancing on the board, staying away from rocks, and most importantly how to warm up your wetsuit in cold water when you've been hydrating for several hours. (Actually, I learnt the last bit on my own.)

So in sum, surfing was every bit as awesome and totally cool as every dude with sunbleached hair, shell necklace, and board shorts had led me to believe. In fact, I fully intend to do a lot more of it when I get back from Wallaby Creek. Which brings me to the sad realization that tomorrow I will be starting 'work'. I say 'work' because generally people get paid to 'work'. I will certainly be doing WORK for 12 hours a day, 6 ½ days a week, but I highly look forward to it. It should be an amazing and singular experience that I'll bore people with for years. But unfortunately, as I will not have electricity out in the Australian boondocks, this will probably be my last entry for quite some time. If I am able to post, it will be infrequently, until I return to civilization just in time for Christmas. So, for now, I hope you've enjoyed my rambling account of my Australian experience thus far, and will keep reading once I'm again able to post. And please add comments if you get a chance! Well,

Ciao for now,

Matt