Fraser Island

Listed as a World Heritage site, Fraser Island is the largest sand island in the world. With 75 miles of untouched beach, the national park is host to a variety of wildlife and dense vegetation(which is remarkable considering it grows in sand). We stuffed the 4WD car with all kinds of things to survive one night of camping in the wild. Blankets, check. Peanut butter and jelly, check. 4 liters of cheap boxed wine ("Goon"), check. tent, duh. bread and water, check. flashlight, check. The list goes on. We brought enough food to feed an army and enough music so that we only listened to the same song 10 times before the end of two days. Similar to Moreton, Fraser can only be accessed by ferry and has one-way sand roads. These bumpy paths make navigating difficult when you're trying to avoid getting hit head on, run into some animal, hit a bump funny or get stuck in the sand. You get the hang of it, but for the most part it's bump...bump bump, thud. We're ready to drive along the smooth beach. However, in the middle of the island is where we found Lake McKenzie. A beautiful, freshwater lake with crystal clear, bright blue water (it was hard to believe the postcards), the view was surreal and quite rewarding--as if to say, congratulations for making it here. Our jostled bodies thought otherwise. After enjoying a picnic lunch on the lake, we hightailed it north to find a campsite before sunset. On the way, we gave some German hitch-hikers a short ride, but because they couldn't fit in the overpacked car, they hung on to the outside as we carried them much further than they would have liked to walk. As we began to pitch the tent, a park ranger approached us about the problem with dingoes. As if we hadn't seen the 100+ warning signs around the island, she thought it'd be great to brief us on the wild dogs right before it got dark. They have attacked people in the past and ripped through their belongings looking for food, she said. Do not hesitate to use force if they become aggresive. Oh okay, sweet dreams everyone. We gather our dinner and head to the barbie to cooke some sausages. Thanks to a full moon, the night was quite bright. However, it wasn't light enough to show us the animal peering behind the glowing eyes looking at us from the woods...just a bird. We roasted marshmellows, made smores, and gazed at the stars hoping that nothing was staring at us from behind.

Because it's winter here, you can drive along Fraser and go for miles without seeing anyone. We got up early to continue exploring the island. Just in front our campsite we watched several humpback whales enjoy what they considered to be warm water. We were fascinated with them as we watched their massive bodies jump almost completely out of the water several times before moving up the coast. We stopped at a few places to take in the island's natural beauty: champagne pools, a creek that you could see right through, a beached shipwreck, and headlands that provided a great view of the coast. The water here looks like blue koolaid and everything seems clean and refreshing. And to be an island supposedly infested with dingoes (we saw 1!) and sharks, we witnessed everything but them. Wedge-tailed eagles soared overhead and other funny birds stuck their beaks into the sand looking for goodies. The weekend was an adventure; one we'll remember for it's all its wonders--the joys of off-roading and camping as well as the splendor of untouched land and protected wildlife.

Highly recommended.

blowing in the wind

apparently there's been a southernly blast of cold air from Antarctica, but we're still running around in our thongs

(keep in mind, that's Aussie for flip flops)

Rugby

Monday night we experienced our first Australian rugby match. The local Brisbane Broncos played the West Sydney Tigers. Lucky for us, an $18 student ticket purchase 30 minutes before the start of the game gave us 12th row seats! The environment was quite entertaining. A whopping 29,000 in attendance, who didn't seem to mind the constant rain, all hooted and hollered; beers splashing, guts jiggling, and mullets blowing in the wind. Here, we were introduced to the Aussie term, bogun, which is equal in meaning to America's version of the redneck. The excitement reached a fever pitch when the two teams broke out in a fight, which made the crowd the loudest it had been all night. The victory was decisive; the home team won 48 to 18.

The sport is quite similar to American football in concept, but much simpler because there are no timeouts or 100+ penalities. It's also much more raw in format. The clock doesn't stop at all and the players wear no protective pads or gear.

Two weeks ago was the State of the Origin game, which is a huge rivalry match played three times each year. Queensland and New South Wales pick their best players in Rugby League and put them on a team to battle it out against the rival state. There is a ton of hype for these matches because a lot of homeland pride lies on the outcome. I would compare it to Duke/Carolina, but we all know which one is much more intense.

A day in the life of...

We wake up, well, whenever we feel like it, but surprisingly enough it's not past noon everyday. Tea and crumpets for brekky on the back veranda as we watch the rainbow lorikeets squawk at each other over food. Brisbane talk radio can be heard in the background. Brady tries vegemite and pretends she likes it, but really, it's gross. Who thought it was a good idea to take the yeast waste from the beer-making process and create a dark brown paste to spread on toast? Every now and then the lorikeets will fly into the kitchen and perch on our arm. Brady pulled a muscle in her leg running from them, but we'd soon learn that they were harmless and quite friendly. Brisbane is full of hills so we lace up the hiking boots and walk up and down them for an hour or so to continue training. Shower time; remember, only four minutes. Now it's lunchtime. We contemplate eating a meat pie because they are just that good. Sometimes we resist temptation, but more times than not, it's just not worth spending money on anything else. We walk to the city from Paddington (about 45 minutes) and window shop since there is no possible way we can fit anything else into our backpacks. The sun sets a few minutes before 5 pm, which is quite annoying. Back to the house to play with Ikie, the Hampton's cocker spaniel, while we wait for another amazing home-cooked meal. Moroccan beef, roast lamb, herb-crusted chicken, wontons, laksa...the list goes on. We've truly been spoiled. At 7pm Brady's alarm goes off to remind her that the Aussie soap, Home and Away, is coming on. We can't miss it; it's become an addiction, or routine, rather. The whole family gathers around the TV to watch what happens next...drama, drama, drama, but it's great. Then, the rest of the night's plans are up in the air. I guess you can say it depends what's on special or how early we have to wake up the next day.

Brissie Nights

Sidenote: Australians abbreviate everything by cutting off the end of the word and adding -ie. For example; Brisbane is Brissie, sunglasses are sunnies, poker machines are pokies, so on and so forth.

Brisbane is known for its trendy and chic nightclubs, but so far, we've only made it to the Uni (university) hangout, the Royal Exchange, which has crucial drink specials. On Sunday, the RE had a snow party to celebrate the last day of exams and the end of the semester. Since winter here consists of 60-degree weather, they used a bubble machine for effect and everyone dressed in snow/ski gear. We were told we stand out as Americans because of our black fleeces, but for the first time, we fit in (hey, it's the only thing we have to keep warm). It was funny they called us out on this because walking out of the pub we spotted three girls in North Face. Hey, they're Americans, we said. sticking out like a sore thumb...the point was proven.

Saturday night was a different story. We headed over to an apartment party, which was supposedly trash bag-themed so everyone was wearing ridiculous outfits. We befriended a model who did a Roberto Cavalli shoot with Paris Hilton. He tried calling her that night. No answer. She must still be in jail, he said. (please laugh)

Wednesday night we boogied out to a club that BJ's parents designed called Uber. There, we got our groove on to an array of upbeat music. Laura and BJ called it an early night (poor guy with a full time job) and Tayte and Katie strutted downtown, stopping at two backpacker bars (because they're guaranteed to be packed). The final stop was Down Under Bar, which is raved about in guide books for its cliche atmosphere. 4:30 a.m. came quickly, but no worries, we tiptoed inside after taking the cabbie home.

Moreton Island

Moreton Island is a large sand island off the coast from Brisbane. Approximately 30 miles in length, the entire island is made of sand roads and is only accessible by ferry. Because it's quite expensive to bring over a car, we opted to take a day tour instead. Lucky for us, we were the only three people (probably because it was Sunday in the dead of winter). Nonetheless, we enjoyed personilizing our excursion and being chauffeured, 4-wheel drive style. We started off in the desert to go sandboarding. With our masonite board in hand and candle wax to speed up the ride, we trekked up a massive dune only to look down at what appeared like a nearly vertical drop. Down we went, one by one on our stomachs, face first at a blistering speed of 60km. There was a rush of adrenaline as we shot down the dune, trying to keep the front of the board in the air so that we avoided a plunge into the sand (and collecting it in all crevices of our body). We headed north to see the blue lagoon (ridiculously cold freshwater) and then to the tip of the island to check out the lighthouse. After chomping down on a picnic lunch and some delicious carrot cake, we walked around the champagne pools and chose to ignore our fate which resulted in getting soaked by waves crashing over the rocks. Wet jeans and sand everywhere, we took the last bumpy ride of the day to Tangalooma wrecks, where we would pick up the ferry back to the mainland.

Lawn Bowls

The only blood-free, non-contact Aussie sport is lawn bowls, which resembles bocce and boules. With a 6-pack and barefeet (the only way to do it), we engaged in a 2-hour session of extremely competitive lawn bowls. To give you a good idea of our surroundings, there was a bachelorette party with girls in sundresses and a birthday party where everyone was wearing ridiculously tacky wigs. Traditionally speaking, however, lawn bowls attire is primarily white and enjoyed by an older crowd.

It was Team USA vs. Team Aussie (BJ and Tayte). It took us a while to get a feel for the game and work out a good strategy, but naturally we staged a legendary comeback. We've opted to retire early from the sport because our current lifestyle couldn't handle the fame. However, recreationally speaking, it's quite perfect for a Saturday afternoon.

We've decided to make our millions by opening a lawn bowls club and meat pie store in Chapel Hill (late night, of course) because it's so fratty and college. Any investors?