A soggy day in Sydney town

Only three months in and another visitor from the States! My hoops buddy Mike was the first, just a week after we moved into the house. Not sure that ever made the blog, but he suffered through our early grilling adventures at the house, though it was still good to have a friend in to talk with and share a meal with. This time it was Kirsty's sister Zoe, who was on the backend of a whirlwind business trip to the Pacific Rim. We were able to meet up with her Friday night in Sydney and had a good, if soggy, weekend visit. After a fruitless search for a hotel suite that would accommodate 3 adults and a child (for less than our monthly mortgage back home), I settled on a B&B in the Surrey Hills neighborhood, about a fifteen minute walk from the Opera House and Circular Quay (thanks Oprah! By all accounts, Sydney is experiencing unprecedented tourism the last two months, and theories are the culprit is the big O, and I'm not talking about Oscar Robertson. This has turned an already pricey city into a seller's market, and the sellers aren't budging!). Once settled, it was just a matter of filling time (and trying to stay dry) between meals! We did have a good hour or two where the rain let up in Manly, retracing the the coastal walk Kirsty and I took back in September. This time with less sun and much to Mika's chagrin, and only slightly less to my own, more spiders!

These guys were hanging out (literally) overhead in the bushes we walked through once we got to the point. I may have gained a few pounds since hitting these shores, but am still vertically challenged so was relatively confident of passing underneath without notice. Mika had her doubts, which intensified with each new gauntlet. Fortunately we made it back without incident, aside from getting dumped on again by the rain (mostly my fault as I had pushed for one last hiking segment along the cliffs).

A nice ferry ride back in to the city, a few more great meals and before we knew it we were dropping Zoe off at the airport and heading back to Canberra. All in all it was a good visit, highlighted by incredible food. To paraphrase an old friend, you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting some hip\trendy\flat-out-amazing cafe or restaurant.

The Concert

Yes we went to a concert (how'd you guess?). Just last night Dad and I headed to a building that I forgot the name of to see Weird Al Yankovic perform live. I thought it was a good show and I even saw my dad laugh a few times. It was a small theater, about 15 rows then a few feet up and then the seats continued on, going up at a slight slant. He sang a few of my favorite songs including Eat it and Canadian Idiot. In between each of the songs he would play features from a show called the weird al show. It was pretty much weird al interviewing random people. They would also show segments from random shows that mention him. He also sang Fat (in his fat suit), the Saga Begins, Yoda, You Don't Love Me Anymore, and Dare to be Stupid. There were others but i forget what they were. All in all, I think it was worth the $200 that we paid for the two tickets.

Our Ship Has Come In! Not.

Hi from cloudy Canberra!  The unseasonably rainy weather that has dogged the region all summer and by some reports devastated the local wine-supplying vineyards continues.  Not that it rains all the time, mind you, but certainly way more than back in dry-dry-dry Colorado.  Kirsten personally still finds it fun and novel and loves the lullaby sound of rain on the roof.  Remind me of this entry when I start whingeing about it (whingeing = bitching, FYI) six months from now.

Other Aussie phrases of recent note:

Going pear-shaped = going wrong

I reckon = I think

Petrol = gas

Jumper = sweater

...and so on...so many of these are similar to British terminology that it was a bit off-putting to me when one evening a colleague of mind earnestly told me that if I wanted to fit in, it would be best to "hate the Poms."  I mentioned how alike I found the Aussies to the Poms (Brits) and wondered why the dislike and she said it was that Aussies feel sometimes like the neglected little sister to the UK.  And can't wait, therefore, to thump them in 2012 when London hosts the Olympics.  Not that anyone is waiting til then to cheer any and all British losses in any sport.  Boo you Poms!  And stop calling us Aussies bloody convicts, willya?

Pause to catch breath and return to my role as dispassionate foreigner...

We had a wonderful weekend at the beach (yes another beach weekend) this time at Jarvis Bay which is home to dolphins and is a seasonal stopping-off point for the annual whale migrations.  We did not see either species this particular trip, but learned enough about the area that we will return for sure.  Our friends Amy and Sally (Sally being a work colleague of KP's) had invited us to share in the bounty of a home lent to them so it was a free lodging weekend.  Jarvis Bay and surrounds is a national park, so little is developed, and no high rises in sight--wonderful for those who like their beaches unspoiled and minus the likes of boardwalks and hotdog stands.  The weather was not perfectly suited for sunbathing but we made it out for a couple swim sessions including (wait for it...wait for it...) Dan's initiation into the world of boogie boarding!  I have video in hand to prove it, but since Dan's the techno whiz in the house, you are unlikely to see it going to YouTube any time soon.  Which is your loss.  It did our hearts good to see him out there, and he was literally the last person out of the water.

As it happens, Jarvis Bay, like I suppose many coastal regions, consists of a bunch of different beach areas one after the other.  We visited several and here are some of our weekend highlights:

This is the beach closest to Vincentia where we were staying.  Mika enjoyed the game of following the wave out then running backwards like a bat out of hell to avoid the incoming waves.  My backpedalling skills left much to be desired.  More like back-staggering.

Murrays Beach on Saturday afternoon.  Damn you, rich yacht owner!!  I want your life, just for a couple days, please.

We hiked round yonder point and up onto the point itself which separated the bay from the ocean with some spectacular cliffs and waves.  At the top, we saw a warning sign about the cliffs but as usual were impressed with the general Aussie assumption that Average Joe wasn't there expressly to slip off the cliff so didn't need 10 foot fences to keep him from doing so.  We were also amused by even the warning sign "falling person" symbol who seemed much happier even as it plummeted to its demise than its American counterpart.

Okay, so upon closer observation, maybe not, but it still struck us as funny at the time!

Sunday, we boogie boarded (yes, all of us!) and then Amy took Mika on her first ocean snorkeling experience at Greenpatch Beach.  Upon their return to shore, Mika said they saw some angel fish and lots of minnows.  Amy called Mika the "mother ship" because the minnows were actually camping out in Mika's shadow for most of the snorkel trip!

A wave from our intrepid snorkeler!

The next day, Kirsten headed to Adelaide for a track cycling conference and the chance to see the South Australia Sport Institute (SASI) prompting this response from her when she was invariably asked, "so how did you find SASI?"  What else could I say but, "Sassy!"  Ba dum bum.

Using the word sassy (which I do not often get the chance to do) reminds me:  The Aussies are very fond of nick names.  Very fond.  As in taking one's name and morphing it into a nickname involving either the adding of an "o" or "ee" at the end some portion of it. Men are especially fond of this or at least they seem to be the ones with the names.  The male AIS sport psychs, for example. consist of Patchy and Lloydy--Patchell and Lloyd being the original last names.  And if you think that is the end of it, you would be wrong.  Very wrong.  In addition to the penchant for adding vowels to the end of names, I have been pulled up short by some nicknames that have no relation to their namees but are just classics--in my humble opinion, anyway.  "Dumpa" and "Grub" are some recent examples--and both freely owned by national team coaches, may I add.  I have found it best in both cases to stick with the standard, "Coach."

I have had several US-based pleas for me to take my obvious governmental clout here : ) to change the name of the national Aussie soccer team, the Socceroos to something--anything--else!  Having lived here now for just shy of two months, I would be ill-advised to take on the suicide mission of wiping out a nickname derived from the time-honored vowel-adding tradition.  It clearly meets all criteria for a dare I say nickname.  My advice: get over it, you stiff-necked Americans, and I am talking to you, Timmo Putz-ee!!

March 17 will mark the two-month anniversary of our arrival in OZ.  Plenty of time to have to live within the limits posed by our two suitcases apiece of goods, you say?  Ha, we retort!  Just you watch!  And you will get plenty of time to watch how long we can last--we found out today that our container carrying our worldly goods that was supposed to dock in Sydney on March 8 has been instead been beached in Taiwan due to a ship cancellation forced by the Chinese New Year.  Wahh??  Wasn't that holiday in January?  Nevertheless, now we are looking at an April 22 goods-in-Canberra date.  I for one (and I cheerfully count myself in the minority in the family on this) am not all that fussed by the news.  I still carry the scars of having purged, sold, cleaned, organized, and supervised the packing of our stuff.  Dan is missing some things (recipes being high on the list) and I think Mika would be buoyed by the sight of her things for sure but wait we will.  Everyone in the moving industry food-chain we have spoken to has taken pains to point out that this development is (and I quote) not their fault.  So I suppose we blame it on those Chinese New Year lovers??  Ah well, nothing says adventure quite like a small pile  of constantly worn clothing!

Poetry Contest alert.  Mika goes to Telopea (Tel-o'-pee-a) Park School and I have made it my mission to write her a great fight song, in the tradition of the Great School Fight Song.  Or as Mika would dryly put it, "to make my life miserable."  Either way, I am looking for powerful school fight song lyrics with the catch being that they must eventually rhyme with "Telopea."  Mika has rejected such classic riffs as:

"You will not mope-ea, when you go to Telopea!"

Or try this one,

"Our foes say nope-ea when they see Telopea!"

What, you didn't like that one?  How about this?

"Come to Telopea, don't be a dope-ea!"  "There is no hope-ea of beating Telopea!"  "Ya can't beat Telopea, not even at jump-rope-ea!"

Submissions encouraged.  Over and out from Down Under!  Keep the emails coming, we miss you.