hello HELLO

Town of 1770, Queensland

Australia

Today I took an acrobatic plane ride. That’s right, the girl who goes to Six Flags to see the shows, paid and voluntarily got into an acrobatic plane.

Now before you read on, I need to apologize in advance for the incorrect airplane terminology. There are people who actually fly planes *cough* Uncle Ron *cough* who are probably cringing reading this entry – apologies.

They picked me up and brought me out to the plane. Now first of all, this plane was tiny. It definitely stood there for a second and thought, “Maybe I should have thought this one through….” But I mean I felt that way about scuba diving, horseback riding and Scooteroo. Worrying about it just takes away from the experience. So I got in anyways.

So we’re in the plane, and we’re just cruising down the grass runway and the pilot tells me to steer. Now I did not want to do this. Surely this is why you pay someone, so that they will steer: hopefully well, and hopefully the whole time.

But the plane is veering towards the trees so in the name of self-preservation I grabbed the wheel and desperately tried to steer us. Now ok. We’re all over the place. Back and forth down the runway, while the pilot’s telling me “Careful of the wings, you’re gonna clip the trees!” and his super studly son is in the back seat going, “You’re overcorrecting!” And I’m just thinking, “Why is no one helping me??? I’m steering a freaking plane!”

Then the pilot’s like, “Ya know what you’re problem is?” never so desperately had I actually wanted to know the answer to this question. He goes, “I’ve been steering down here the whole time.” After I was done picking my jaw up off the floor, I couldn’t help but laugh my face off in relief. I’m all panicking like, “How am I going to pay for a freaking plane if I crash it?” and the whole time the pilot was steering and the studly pilot’s son was totally in on it. Boo.

This is all before we’ve even left the ground.

We take off and initially I’m lured back into trusting the pilot as he’s showing us the sights and we’re all chatting. Then he asks me if I want me to take my picture. Now, in retrospect, I probably should have been concerned that the pilot was going to be preoccupied with my camera and not flying the plane. But I wasn’t.

Actually, later in the flight, he answered his cell phone. Can believe, we can’t talk on a cell phone or answer a text message while operating a car, but he’s up there in the friendly skies on his cell phone. And he got reception. I don’t even get reception in the hostel. Not fair.

Anyways, I was down to have him take my picture. So I handed him my camera, and he lines it up as if to take a picture of both of us, and he says, “You smiling?” To which I answer, “Always!” and he sends the plane into a nosedive.

Oh my god. OH MY GOD! I let out the loudest shriek; it was the biggest stomach drop of my life. I just, wow. So then he recovers, and they all have a hearty laugh at my expense. And just when I thought we were all cool and having fun HE DID IT AGAIN. Now THIS was the loudest shriek and I grabbed his arm. I couldn’t help myself, the plane was going down! He said that in the past people have pushed down on the wheel, thrown up on him, and the like, so I guess an arm grab isn’t too bad.

And he let me steer. Like actually. He starts out, “Now you don’t have to do much to steer the plane. Just be gentle” At first I didn’t even touch the wheel, until he was like, “Too gentle. Ya gotta at least…” and he took my hands and showed me. It was sweet but super scary.

We landed on the beach and went for a walk, which is where I gashed my foot open. I feel it throbbing right now just thinking about it.

We took some sweet pictures with the plane. And then the pilot was showing me a sand crab I think, and for a picture put it in my hair. Anything for a good picture. Now this was all good and fun until it got stuck in my hair. And of coarse the pilot wouldn’t get it out, so Studly Jr had to. All the while, he’s like, “it’s little claws are clamped on your hair” and then it’s, “It’s trying to borough into your head” to which it’s was like, “My parents paid a lot for that big sexy brain, get the crab out of there!!!!” Many pictures and a lot of squirming later, we got the crab out and continued our beach walk.

We saw a ton of Warrior Crabs. So freaky, they look like big blue spiders and they travel in

packs. The boys are all playing with them and scooping them up, taunting me that they’re going to put them down my pants while I run away, when something hits me in the arm. And I was just like, “Did you just throw a crab at me?” Studly Jr totally threw a crab at me!

Then we headed back to plane, leaving a trail of blood behind me while my cut filled up with sand. Throbbing. So we got back into the plane, and of coarse there were a few more tricks, but this time I was in the back seat with Studly Jr. Didn’t mind the dives as much. And we safely made it home. In one piece.

Finally, safe, in bed with my bandaged feet, regularly applying Neosporin. I lead a sexy life if nothing else. I was supposed to try kite surfing tomorrow. But I just don’t know if that’s gonna happen if I’m still hobbling just to get to the toilet.

XOXO

All You Need

Town of 1770, Queensland

Australia

I am now a Californian that can surf. Kind of.

What it lacks in ease, it makes up for in fun. My first lesson was actually in Noosa, this was the lesson where I couldn't get up, but instead mastered the: sit on the board, spin around and wave to all the surfers while I drift onto the shore. My instructor was less than amused. Through gritted teeth, he’d be like, “I know your having fun now, but it’s much MORE fun if you stand up. And you’ll look cool.” I deduced that he was calling me uncool. But you know it was one of those things where we were this big group of goofy girls and were just having fun falling off our boards and getting pounded by the waves. Oh, and I think I wasn’t able to get up that day because I was attempting to surf “Regular,” which is when you surf with your left foot forward, like when snow boarding. However, I surf with my right foot forward, which is called “Goofy,” appropriately enough. So I fault that for the failure of my first lesson.

My second lesson was much more successful. We were practicing our stance on the board and our instructor was trying to get us to loosen up. Next think you know, he’s calling me out, “Shake your ass woman!” This coming from this 50-year-old surfer dude with a meticulously shaved head, and yet white ear hair that I kid you not wrapped around his ear lobes. A note for the men, if you ever reach the age in which white ear hair is enwreathing your head and threatening to siege the rest of the face, please trim it. Please. I don’t care how, just maintain; long white ear hair is offensive.

Anyways, I was shocked; you would never get away with that in the States, but that kind of set the tone for our lesson. The whole time we were making fun of how bad we ate it, but then cheering when we stood up. And I totally stood up. I don’t even remember if there was cheering because there was so much adrenaline running through my veins. It was like I blacked out; I was so shocked to be up that I kind of don’t remember it. But I was so happy. I am from California AND I’M TAN, AND I KNOW HOW TO SURF (kind of). Hooray for stereotypes. Now excuse me while I whiten my teeth.

On a confidence high, I decided to take a board out on my own. It was a few days later and my oh my was it a windy day. Even before I got in the water, I could tell the waves were different. But I had gotten the board and dragged it all the way out to the beach, so I couldn’t not go surfing.

By the way, I really must get better at surfing so that I can carry a smaller board. Beginner’s boards are huge and heavy. Plus my arms are too short to properly carry the board. And trust me when I say dragging your surfboard and parting the beach does not look cool. I’m essentially surfing on a door at this point.

So, big, multidirectional waves and the wind. This, as they say in the Wizard of Oz, “was a horse of a different color.” But I’m feeling good you know, I’m talking the surfer talk, with the “gnarly” and the “sweet” and throwing around “dude” like Grandma’s at the Thanksgiving table. So I drag my board out into the water and these waves are slamming me. The wave knocks you down, but you have to remember that I’ve got a board tethered to my ankle, dragging me back under and to the shore everytime I go down. This makes it that much more difficult to get out to where the waves are breaking. I’m out there for like an hour and even when I try to catch a wave, I’m losing it beneath me. The wave comes, I paddle paddle paddle and the wave keeps going under me. It was so frustrating, especially after my champion success the other day.

At one point I find myself getting too close to shore so I try to walk around the edge of the cove to get further out, and I get knocked down again. But this time I’m closer to the rocks that shape the cove and there are rocks beneath me only shallowly covered in sand. When I went down I went down on the rocks. Now really, this sounds worse than it was. I nicked my knee and got a tiny piece of rock stuck in my foot. And not due to it’s size, but probably just by virtue of being in my foot the rock was hurting me the whole time I was out there. So I dragged my door surfboard out of the water, which I might add is bright yellow so really it looks like a big banana, sit on it and picked the rock out of my foot.

Now this rock was so tiny, really it was like an overgrown piece of sand, but I had to peel back a flap of my foot skin and pull out the rock. And it felt so much better that I just sat there for a while.

Just me curled up sitting in the center of my huge yellow board, looking like a banana split.

Unfortunately, I totally lost my nerve and just sat there for a few hours waiting for the other dude

to finish surfing. With my foot mutilation there was no way I was carry that board up the hill by

myself.

I came home that day complaining about my cut. Little did I know that today I would slice my other foot open. These ones a beauty: roughly two inches in length and jagged like I did it with a can opener. And there’s sand in it. “Well of coarse,” was what my roommate said when I told her

that part. She had a point. There is sand everywhere here. We’re talking when you go for a hike the trails are often sand. I’ve never seen such a thing in my life. And it’s forever in your suitcase. Even if I bought a new one, it would probably already be sandy by virtue of being in Australia.

Not the point, so just when I was getting ready to throw my feet a “pity party” I saw a girl with her arm in a cast. Guess it’s not that bad.

XOXO

For Her

Rainbow Beach, Queensland

Australia

When Making Foreign Friends:

Noosa, Queensland

Australia

YOU WILL BEGIN TO SPEAK LIKE THEM

“I make picture?” (German English)

Translation “I’ll take a picture” (American English)

“I can’t be asked to walk up that hill” (British English)

Translation “There's no way I'm walking up that hill” (American English)

“Aww mate, what’s wrong?” (British/Australian English)

Translation “Dude, what’s up?” (Californian English)

And my favorite, “How ya goin'?” (Australian English)

I don’t know what this means exactly; but this expression is widely used. I usually respond “I’m well, thanks.” But lately, I've taken to trying to beat them to the punch. So like if I walk into a shop, I'll ask the salesman, "How ya goin'?" before he can ask me. You run the risk of coming off overly friendly, but no complaints yet.

ENTIRE MEALS AND SOMETIMES NIGHTS PASS WHEN NO ONE UTTERS AN ENGLISH WORD

Unfortunately I have no examples. Inherently, I could not understand what they were talking about.

EXPECT TO BE MISUNDERSTOOD OR IGNORED COMPLETELY

Once my hostelmates and I were walking to the beach when I overheard a nearby girl talking about horses. I inquired, "Do you like horseback riding?" To which she replied, "I don't know where beach is." Fist of all, that just wasn't my question. Second, really? Because were walking towards it.

Another time at the canoeing camp, my partner and I had just pulled onto shore. I asked, "Hey would you mind taking the front of the canoe?" To which, not only did she not respond, but instead walked up the shore and bought and ice cream. It's okay, I'm "strong like ox."

MOST DIFFERENCES ARE QUICKLY BLURRED BY A GLASS OF THE CHEAPEST BEER OR WINE AVAILABLE

Fortunately, the English speaking world likes to party. And buying the next round is next to godliness.

REACTIONS THAT STILL SURPRISE ME

"You're accent is so strong."

"Where in Canada are you from?"

Horse Therapy

Noosa, Queensland

Australia

Hello friends! SO I went horseback riding today. OH. MY. GOD. First of all, I got a charming horse named Ollie, who they affectionately called “the wanderer.” I thought nothing of this because I was so glad I didn’t get “Frenzy.” Like seriously, who names a horse “Frenzy”? Why not just cut to the chase and call him “Bone Crusher” or “Human Slayer.” Anyways, as it turns out, riding “the wanderer” was a challenge, to say the least. See we were on a trail through a forested area, and having a horse that wanders off the trails means that you get smacked in the face by a lot of branches. Face, arms, the best gash is across the top of my thigh.

And that was with pants on. The horse of coarse (haha) isn’t thinking about you sitting on top of it, so while it’s not like it's going to run smack into a tree, THE HORSE will happily duck under a branch leaving YOU to be helplessly carried into it.

Another note about horseback riding, you’re RIDING A HORSE. A real live animal, and a big one at that. Oh yeah, and they run. First of all, this is for the ladies, when riding a trotting horse wear a sports bra. Heck, wear two. In addition to being bruised and battered I thought I was going to have black eyes. So this trotting horse situation, so SCARY. A trot is kind of like our jog for a horse.

Horse to Human Terminology

Walk = Walk

Trot = Jog

Canter = Run

Gallop = Sprint

I was literally bracing myself for the fall the whole time. Like we’d be walking and all of the sudden the horse would break into a trot; fire the pistol, we were off.

It’s insane, you’re flying all over the place – everytime my feet flew out of the stirrups, and I lost the reins a couple of times, and then I cried. The thing you need to understand is that when riding upon the back of a horse, is that your instinctual reactions are completely wrong.

So when the horse broke into a trot, instinctually I would tighten my legs around the horse and lean in towards the horse. The same way a jockey sits to get a horse to gallop.

A Jockey

A Nichole Kristen

(not a jockey)

In the future:

• Step 5: Slowing Down and Stopping

  
  

  • No matter how much fun you're having riding a horse, eventually you're going to want to stop.

  1. Most horses are trained to slow down and stop when the reins are pulled backwards.
  2. Even if you want to stop quickly, never jerk back hard on the reins. This could cause the horse to rear up.
  3. Release any leg pressure on the horse before you ask it to slow down or stop.
  4. Make sure you have a solid seat on the saddle before pulling back on the reins.
  5. If the horse stops abruptly, you might need to lean backwards and push on the stirrups with your feet, heels forward, to keep your balance.
  6. Once the horse has come to a complete stop, remember to release the pressure on the reins to let the horse know its finished obeying the command.

Now this is all good and fine when you're practicing on a horse that is standing still with the instructor coaching you by your side, but a whole different story when your horse is in motion.I hung on until the half way point when we stopped for a break and snacks, but I swore I was not getting back on that horse. I’m like crying and shaking, plus I’m bruised and in a chipper voice, our instructor's like, “Water or orange juice?” Surely you jest. Then the guy suggested that I just let myself fall off the horse so I would see it wasn’t that bad. I smiled and laughed, not sure if he was joking as visions of Christopher Reeve came to me.

During our break the woman said that we could go a different way and have the horse just walk, which didn’t sound too bad. So I climb back on the horse, and the woman asks if I’m sure I don’t want to go for a trot, and I was like, “Dude, it’s all I can do to get back on the horse,” and then I had a chuckle to myself for using the expression in such a literal manner, not surprisingly it phased her less.

Me "getting back in the saddle"

And yeah, I know I should stop calling women “dude.” Sorry Grandma.

So the ride back was nice, although really it was more of a nature walk than a horse ride, but that was perfect for me. She was like going on about the different trees and birds and I’m on my horse like ”yeah” every five seconds in between getting slapped by branches. But that part was most enjoyable to me.

While the guy was driving me back to my hostel, he was like, “So you’ve realized horse riding isn’t for you?” And I mean, it was definitely a character building experience. And the trails were really cool and we rode through a lake which was sweet, and wet. It was a challenge, but I made it through and it was still a good experience. Then he asked me where I was from and of coarse I was like, “From the States." And he was like, “Oh ya, the Americans always say that they don’t do horse trotting in America.” I was thinking, SERIOUSLY?!?! I know he heard my accent before I strapped myself to a huge running beast! Like, YA! The only horse riding experience I had was when I was like nine sitting on a walking horse while some dude in a cowboy hat held the reins. They definitely do it different in Oz.

So it looks like I’m off to horse therapy tonight, hope you all are well!

XOXO