Tag

wanderlust

Smiling Samoa

On our first morning in Samoa, we woke to what we thought were the sounds of gale force winds tearing through our tiny island resort. As we lazily got up from our bed, Danni and I realised that the sounds were actually of the ocean, only metres from where we slept in our beach bungalow. The sun was hovering just below the horizon, so we sat on the balcony as we watched the bright ball of light slowly rise over the water. The tiny beachside bungalow that we would spend the week calling home was everything I’ve ever dreamed about living in. Located just metres from the sandy shore, our little fale was perfect in every way. However, as much as we could have spent every day hanging out in our new home, there was plenty to do on the island of Upolu in Samoa, and so it was time to explore…

Our adorable little fale.

KITTENS AND SWIMMING HOLES

Before we’d even left home, Danni and I knew there was just one place we absolutely had to see while on our Samoan adventure – To Sua Ocean Trench. Our constant email exchanges in the months leading up to our departure were full of stunning photographs of the iconic Samoan landmark, both of us not quite understanding how something so beautiful could possibly exist.

Then, we visited it for ourselves.

TO SUA OCEAN TRENCH

From the gorgeous photographs, we were expecting the trench to be within a lush, rich rainforest, with a long tunnel stretching towards the sea. When we arrived, however, we were surprised to find a vast, open space, full of tropical plants and a view of the ocean from the cliffside. We paid our 10-tala entry fee, and began to wander around the beautiful grounds, eager for our first glimpse of the ocean trench. Then, in typical wet season fashion, the skies opened up and the rain began to pour. Seeking cover in one of the nearby fales, Danni and I decided to admire the incredible ocean view until the rains had passed.

Our kitten friend.

Before long, a tiny orange kitten had appeared from under a nearby fale, meowing in earnest for a cuddle and a treat. Not one to deny a kitten a snuggle, I coaxed him onto my lap for some warmth. The kitten, however, had other plans. Ignoring my desperate pleas for him to join me, he insisted on giving his attention to Danni, who couldn’t have cared less for his love. I was overcome with jealously as I watched him snuggle into her lap, and Danni smiled smugly as she scratched his tiny head.

TIME FOR A SWIM

Thankfully, it took only about ten minutes for the rains to finally pass, and so we said goodbye to the little kitten and made our way to the ocean trench. As we wandered carefully down the narrow staircase, we caught our first glimpse of the sparkling aqua water through the lush vegetation surrounding the swimming hole. The entire trench came into view as we reached the thirty-metre ladder which extended down to the water. Holding on tightly, we descended the slippery ladder, hoping not to slip and fall into the water below.

After safely making it to the bottom, we put our towels on the small deck area and jumped straight into the salty water. There was no-one else in sight. As we frolicked around in the stunning swimming hole, we began to hear voices. Another swimmer suddenly emerged from one of the darker ends of the trench, and it was then that we realised we weren’t quite alone. The girl was swimming by herself, snorkelling her way around the trench when a huge splash startled us all.

The incredible To Sua Ocean Trench.

We looked up, and realised that someone had jumped into the water from high up on the ladder. Another person was up there too, getting ready to jump. It was then we figured out that these people were with the girl who’d been swimming alone, and they’d swum through the rock tunnel from inside the trench out to the Pacific Ocean. As they swam closer to us, we recognised the young couple from our flight the previous day.

Being the friendly people that we are, Danni and I began chatting to the couple, who were accompanied by a local Samoan tour guide. Their names were Lachie and Kara, and it turned out that they were both from Canberra, ACT, where Danni also lives. Not only that, but we soon realised that Kara worked for the same department as Danni – what a small world!

TAG-A-LONG TOUR

We spent a bit more time swimming and chatting with our new friends and their Samoan tour guide, Sili, before they invited us to check out the blowhole on the cliffside with them. We happily accepted, and the five of us made our way back up the slippery ladder.

We ventured toward the edge of the gardens and made our way down a path which lead to the coast. We scurried over the black, volcanic rock, admiring the views surrounding us. Sili took us toward the edge of a large rock, and pointed down to a hole a few metres from it. “Watch,” he said, before he jumped off the edge into the water. We watched as he floated underneath us and his smiling face appeared in the hole. A few moments later, he emerged from behind us, dripping wet and laughing. “Your turn!” he said.

Nervously, we all jumped into the water and began to swim under the rock. The water was a stunning electric blue, which almost glowed against the dark, black rocks. As we swam toward the back of the cave, Sili told us to hold our breath. Sure enough, a wave then rushed through the cave, causing the water level to rise for a few moments. Laughing and spluttering as the wave left as quickly as it came, we swam out and climbed back up the rock, politely refusing Sili’s offer to jump again.

Sili taking the leap off the rocks.

We walked back up around the ocean’s edge, staring out toward the Pacific with smiles on our faces. As Danni and I said our goodbyes to our new friends, we made plans to meet them at their hotel later that afternoon for cocktail hour.

NEW FRIENDS AND NEW ADVENTURES

We joined Lachie and Kara for cocktail hour and dinner at the Saletoga Sands Resort, about a 45-minute drive from our own resort. Over a few pina coladas, we made plans to pick them up the next day to explore the southern part of the island together. Hooray – we’d made friends!

SAMOA IN A DAY

After scooping our new mates from their resort the following morning, we set off to the south-east part of Upolu, which is famed for its spectacular beaches. With our eyes peeled, we looked for the perfect place to stop for a swim, and when we reached Tagiilima Beach, we knew we’d found it. After paying a few tala to park at the beach and sit in a fale, we eagerly ran to the shore and dived into the crystal clear water. Now, I know I’ve mentioned ‘crystal clear water’ in just about every island post I’ve ever written, but I honestly believe that the water at this beach in Samoa had THE clearest water I have ever seen in my life. Seriously.

It was absolutely stunning, as you can see by the pictures, and we enjoyed splashing around in the perfectly tempered ocean for about an hour before we decided that it was time for lunch. Not far down the road was brightly coloured little shack with the word ‘restaurant’ plastered across the side, so we decided to head on in and see what it had to offer. With incredible views of Lalomanu Beach, we figured it was as good a place as any to enjoy some food and a few drinks!

Stunningly beautiful beaches.

Our friendly (and not to mention fabulous) waiter gave us his recommendations for menu items, and more importantly, the best cocktails. I settled for a strawberry daquiri, but everyone else decided to try the ‘Wake Me Up, Sweet Jesus’ cocktail, which appeared to be the Samoan version of a Long Island Iced Tea.

WAKE ME UP SWEET JESUS

Oh, boy. I am still so glad that I only had one drink, because after just two ‘Wake Me Up Sweet Jesus’ cocktails, the rest of the gang were wasted. If I too had enjoyed one, we would’ve been stranded at that restaurant until we sobered up, which wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world considering it was next to one of the most gorgeous beaches I’ve ever seen, but we had plenty of exploring to do!

I rounded up my drunken friends, and off we went to continue exploring the island. We decided to drive all the way around to the north side, and found ourselves cruising up and down the windy mountain roads. Coconut palms were scattered across the low valleys we drove past, and everywhere we looked we could only see green. It was the perfect scenery for a road trip, so we pumped up the tunes and admired the incredible views.

Finally, we made it to the other side of Upolu, just as school was letting out. The side of the road was full of young, bubbly schoolchildren making their way home. As for us, we were searching for the entrance to the Piula Cave Pool, which we’d heard was not only beautiful, but one of the most refreshing places for a swim on the island.

Piula Cave Pool.

After driving up and down the same stretch of road twice, we pulled over to enlist the help of the schoolchildren for directions. Taking cover under a shady tree, I couldn’t stop laughing as a drunken Danni tried to ask a group of young Samoan boys how to get to the cave. Between giggles, they eventually managed to point us in the right direction!

CAVE POOLS AND SLIDING ROCKS

We reached Piula Cave Pool to find a few locals splashing about in the water. We wasted no time before we jumped in, escaping the heat of the afternoon. We were surprised to find the water was actually fresh rather than salt, despite the pool being right next to the ocean. We swum inside the cave, and marvelled at the colour and clearness of the water. It was much cooler than the ocean, but it was so bloody refreshing!

Papase’ea Sliding Rocks – we slid down the far one!

Our last stop of the day was the famous Papase’ea Sliding Rocks, located not too far from the centre of Apia, Samoa’s capital. Again, we got a bit lost trying to find it, thanks to the lack of signs in Samoa in general! When we arrived, we made our way down the tall staircase and found ourselves at the top of the sliding rocks. It was steep, and the small pool of water at the bottom didn’t look too deep. Needless to say, we were all pretty nervous about sliding down, and no-one wanted to be the first to do it. Luckily, a group of New Zealand travellers arrived shortly after we did, and it became very obvious that they’d done this before! We watched them slide without fear, and Lachie soon become the first of our group to give it a go.

After watching him slide down the steep, bumpy rocks without dying, I figured I’d give it a go too, and soon realised how much fun it was, despite how much it hurt my butt! We all made it down the few different sliding rocks, and laughed and screamed the entire time – it was so much fun! All good things must come to an end, however, and so it was time to head back to our resort.

Smiling Samoa!

SUNSETS AND SMILING SAMOA

After dropping Lachie and Kara back to their resort, Danni and I began the journey back to our own resort. As we travelled through the tiny villages, we saw all the Samoan families getting together and playing sports; cricket, rugby and volleyball were the top choices, and the golden sunset sky cast an incredibly beautiful glow over everything. There was magic in the air, and as we passed each village, we waved furiously at the locals, laughing and smiling happily with every wave and smile we got in return.

May 25, 2017 1 comment

South Pacific Islands Travel

Journey to Samoa

written by Courtney

In hindsight, sharing a bottle of cheap red wine before a red-eye flight to a new country probably wasn’t the smartest idea. However, as Danni and I giggled our way through boarding, covering our purple teeth with our hands as we passed other passengers, we didn’t care – the journey to Samoa had begun! Resisting the urge to continue drinking red wine on board, we relaxed as the flight took off in the darkness of the night; knowing that when we landed, we’d be in beautiful Samoa.

DARKNESS AWAITS

We arrived at Faleolo International Airport in the dark at about 5:00am local time. Delirious due to lack of sleep, we slowly stumbled our way through immigration and baggage claim, relying only on the excitement of our arrival to keep us awake.

After clearing customs, we rubbed our bleary eyes and headed outside the terminal. We were a good couple of hours early to pick up our hire care, so we figured we’d chill out in the airport until the car rental place opened. As we wandered aimlessly outside, we realised that there was no place to chill at the airport; there was nothing but taxi drivers, airport transfer drivers and tour operators, all with eyes glued to the arrivals gate waiting to pounce on their next customer.

Suddenly aware of the many eyes upon us, Danni and I played it cool, and walked confidently through the tiny arrivals section of the airport like we knew exactly where we were going. I grabbed our car hire confirmation from my backpack and realised that luckily, the rental place was open and we could pick up the car early – phew!

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

By 6:00am, it was still completely dark, but we’d managed to get our hire car – a white Toyota Yaris – without any trouble (despite a few minor language barriers with the Samoan Avis attendant). We put our bags in the back of the little car, then took a step back and stared at each other. “Do you want to drive?” Danni said cautiously. I didn’t want to, but replied “Yeah, sure, but I can’t see very well in the dark”. That was enough for Danni to grab the car keys and take position in the driver’s seat, ready to take us to Apia, the capital of Samoa. It only took us about 5 minutes of cruising down the road to realise we probably shouldn’t have been driving…

We were quite sleep deprived, but the conversation went something like this:

Danni – “How many suburbs until Apia?”

Courtney – “They’re called villages, not suburbs. Also, I can’t read the signs in the dark”

Danni – “My eyes keep dripping”

Courtney – “Gross”

We were bloody tired. With finding coffee as our new biggest priority, we picked up the pace and increased our speed from 35km/hr to a modest 40km/hr, and trudged along in the darkness, watching ever so patiently for the first glimpse of sunlight.

The beautiful harbour opposite the Sheraton at sunrise

HELLO, APIA

As we slowly navigated our way through the Samoan villages, first light began to appear, giving us a better sense of our surroundings. Huge mountains appeared on the right side of the island, remaining dark against the glowing dawn sky, and we could finally see the Pacific Ocean quietly lapping the shore to our left.

As we drove through the quaint Samoan villages, we waved at the early rising locals walking along the road, no doubt on their way to Sunday church. We continued down the road at a modest pace, and we began to notice our surroundings getting larger in size. We soon came to realise that we were approaching Apia.

While not a large city by Western standards, the capital of Samoa was quite populated for the small Polynesian island. We navigated our way through the streets, relying on a small map in Danni’s Lonely Planet guide, until we reached the Sheraton Samoa Aggie Grey’s Hotel & Bungalows. Overlooking Apia Harbour, this colonial-style hotel looked like the perfect place to grab a coffee, so we parked our little Yaris across the road and wandered sleepily in the front door.

Comfortably seated in the beautiful marble lobby, we breathed a sigh of relief. We were in Samoa! We had coffee! We had free WiFi! The sun was rising! Sipping our delicious lattes, we quickly sent messages to our families letting them know of our safe arrival to Samoa, then relaxed until the sun had fully risen over the island. It was time to head to our home for the next week, Sa’Moana Resort Beach Bungalows, located about an hour away on the south side of Samoa.

Whitey standing proud outside the Sheraton

JOURNEY TO SAMOA

Once we’d been sufficiently caffeinated, we left the Sheraton en route to the other side of the island. We’d been given another map by one of the friendly staffers at the Sheraton, so we felt a bit more confident in where we had to go. Since the sun had risen, it was my turn to take the wheel of our little car, who we’d affectionately nicknamed ‘Whitey’ (very original, I know).

As we made the return journey along the same road we’d driven into Apia, we realised that we were in a whole new world. Where we’d driven in near darkness was now fully lit in a vibrant display of colour, with everything appearing bright and animated. It was hard to concentrate on driving when I was surrounded by lively, yellow-tipped hedges, deep burgundy shrubs, and countless green coconut palms.

The locals we’d seen earlier in the morning were now making their way home from church, and waved at us with enthusiasm; huge, friendly grins decorating their happy faces. Waving at the locals wasn’t just a novelty for us, and was something we got pure joy out of during our entire stay on the island. Everyone just seemed so happy, and the feeling was contagious!

After a few wrong turns and driving past the turnoff we needed to go down a couple of times, Danni & I had finally made it to the Cross-Island Road, one of two major roads running straight down the middle of Upolu. If you’ve ever visited Samoa yourself, you will know that the whole street sign/signs in general thing hasn’t really taken off yet, so trying to navigate your way around with nothing more than a tourist map is quite the challenge. Even in our sleep-deprived state, we found it to be an adventure, and we laughed every time we went the wrong way (which was almost every time).

Danni checking out the amazing infinity pool at Sa’Moana Resort

SA’MOANA RESORT

Eventually, we made it to the turn-off to Sa’Moana Resort, which luckily, was actually signposted. The road to the resort was a six kilometre, unsealed dirt path with plenty of chickens, pigs with piglets, and locals milling about on the sides. We carefully navigated each and every bump, and finally made it to the coast, where the shoreline was dotted with coconut palms – the signature of a tropical island. Noticing the colourful bungalows lining the beachside, we cried out in happiness – we were finally there.

Upon arrival, we immediately jumped in the volcanic rock infinity pool, and washed away the past 24 hours in the cool ocean water. We’d made it; the journey to Samoa was complete.

March 24, 2017 0 comment

Personal

Reflecting On 2016: The Year That Was

written by Courtney

As I look back on the year that was, I can’t help but feel mixed emotions. 2016 has been a bumpy ride, and I went through a very broad range of feelings in the past 12 months; from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to post this, considering that it is full of personal thoughts and experiences. However, from where I now stand nearing the end of 2016, I realise that I needed to have the experiences that I had, and I want to share them with you…

IN THE BEGINNING

I began 2016 on the highest of highs; I’d just quit a job that I disliked immensely, I was enjoying a summer of freedom, and was about to head off on a three-month travel adventure across Asia and the South Pacific. The world was my oyster, and I knew that I had to take advantage of it. My excitement for 2016 may have been the beginning of the descent into my low point, as I frivolously spent money I couldn’t afford to spend before my travels. I was oblivious to the position I would put my future self in, and truly lived for the moment. Usually, I’m all for living in the moment, but I wasn’t living within my means, and this was something I’d come to regret later.

The first day of my summer of freedom

THE SUMMER OF TRAVEL

My summer of travel began in Bali in January, a place I’d never been before. I spent two incredible weeks with three of my girlfriends, exploring the beautiful Indonesian country as much as we could in the time we had. I experienced the bustling, touristy Seminyak, full of beach bars and yummy cafes, noisy streets and stray dogs aplenty. I experienced quiet Ubud, full of geckos, yogis and the stifling humidity. I experienced Canggu, full of beach bums looking for surf and lazy days by the pool. I came home from Bali feeling invigorated, with sun kissed skin and wavy hair, completely transitioned into the life of a nomad and ready for my next adventure.

Three days after my return from Bali, I boarded another plane and jetted off to Japan, swapping the hot, humid sun for the cold, dry winter. Here, I spent two weeks exploring the wild and wacky city of Tokyo, drinking my body weight in cheap beer and singing my heart out to karaoke. I experienced the bright lights of the big city and drinking chuhai at the Robot Restaurant, laughing with joy at the madness of it all. I experienced language barriers when making new friends, and trying to order vegetarian meals. Then I left the city for the mountains, and tried my hand at snowboarding in Hakuba, before having a meltdown and trading in my board for some trusty skis. I caught up with old friends and made new ones, all while heading up and down the snowy mountain each day. I experienced freezing temperatures and icy snow, and bluebird days with fresh powder. I came home from Japan feeling tired, but happy, with a faded tan and a sore head full of amazing memories.

Beachy days in Canggu, Bali

A week later, it was time for the Cook Islands. I spent three unbelievable weeks with my love in our favourite place in the whole world – Rarotonga. Here, I experienced true nirvana, finding it all too easy to settle into the peaceful island life. I fell in love with the dog who lived at our Airbnb apartment, crying on the plane home after we’d left him. I experienced sunny days on the beach and plenty of rainy days stuck inside, trying to do yoga and drinking green tea. I ate a burger almost every day, and enjoyed sunset cocktails almost every night. It was heaven on earth, but still bittersweet, as I knew my adventure was coming to an end.

WHEN REALITY HITS

I returned from Rarotonga feeling energised, with three months of incredible experiences under my belt, and enough memories to last a lifetime. It was now time to head back down to earth, and assimilate back into the real world. I needed to get a job, replenish my almost empty bank account, and settle into life as a regular person once again.

Oh, if only it had been that simple. It was here that I began my descent into one of the lowest points of my life. Finding a job, especially one in my field located in the town where I live, was near impossible. I faced rejection on a regular basis, and spent my days applying for jobs that I was severely underqualified for, desperate for anything that gave me a regular pay check. I cried on an almost daily basis, finding it hard to get out of bed and face another impossible day. I applied for a few jobs I wanted desperately, yet didn’t even make it to an interview; causing more sleepless nights and teary days. It was dark, and I couldn’t see the light.

I missed Chewy more than you should probably miss someone else’s dog!

Finally, I had some luck. I’d secured three promising second interviews, and the prospect of finally having a regular income again after nearly six months was almost too good to be true. The only downside, however, was that all three potential job opportunities were Sydney-based, meaning that I would have to become a commuter. I was in no position to be picky, so I went to all the interviews and finally got myself a job.

THE LIFE OF A COMMUTER

I began my new job just days after getting it. At first, I thought the commute would be fine. 90 minutes each way on a train would be fine; I could read all the books I’d wanted but never seemed to find time for. Boy, did I find the time. I managed to get through 26 books in the first three months of commuter life, a feat impressive even for someone who reads as fast as I do. However, the novelty wore off soon enough, and I found myself sinking again.

The conflicting emotions I felt during this time were hard to interpret. I struggled to get myself out of bed each morning; eating, dressing and heading to the train. Once I got to the office, despite my constant state of tiredness, I truly enjoyed the work I was doing. It was the travel industry, a perfect fit for a wanderluster like me. Those who surrounded me in the workplace were fun, motivating and pleasures to work with, but as soon as I left the office bound for the train station at the end of each day, the darkness started to set in once again.

I can’t believe I’m putting this on the Internet. This is me, at 5.30am, feeling and looking like crap during life as a commuter.

I started to loathe the working week, and my weekends were gone in a flash. The house was constantly messy, and I was falling behind on my freelance job. I felt as though my time was wasting away, and I had nothing to show for it. The half hour I spent exercising during my lunch break was doing nothing, and I felt my health slipping too. I had no time for my friends, and all I did when I was with them was complain about my lifestyle, which I’m sure was riveting conversation. I knew I had to change something; I knew I had to find the light.

A NEW BEGINNING

It was then when I heard from a friend about a job opportunity in my home city, and on a whim, I decided to apply for it. Long story short, I got the job. Despite my elation at the change of lifestyle, I realised that I had to quit my Sydney job, and with that came letting down all the people whom I had come to know and love. Again, conflicting emotions set upon me; I felt joy and relief as I knew I would regain all the time I had lost during my commuter days, but also guilt and sadness at having to leave my job after only six months, and the great people I had formed such strong bonds with. Quitting that job was one of the hardest things I’ve done, and I felt sick with guilt for weeks.

One of my best mates and travel buddies, Carlee, was a saviour during this time. She gave me reassurance in my moments of need, and made me realise that I didn’t have to sacrifice my happiness for the happiness of others. Sure, I felt awful about letting others down, but at the end of the day, it was just a job, and my own mental and physical health had to be my priority. “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live” quoted Carlee from the great Albus Dumbledore. Truer words have never been spoken; at least, more relevant words in my situation. I was dwelling on impossible dreams, and forgetting that I had a life to live.

The message Carlee sent me

MOVING FORWARD

It has been almost six weeks since I started my new job, and the change in my mental and physical health couldn’t be more apparent. I went from 12-hour days spent primarily sitting down and feeling sorry for myself, to having such flexible hours that I am able to work only a 4-day week. I’m going to the gym for longer than 30 minutes a day. I’m sleeping better. I’m eating better. I have found myself in a situation where I can be truly happy in all aspects of my life, and moving forward, this is the perfect place to be. For the first time in my working career, I feel content.

HELLO, 2017

As 2016 draws to a close, and I look back on the roller-coaster that it was, I can’t help but be grateful for everything that has happened. It may seem to you that I’m complaining about nothing, and trust me, I get it. This was one of the things I struggled with; I felt guilty for resenting my lifestyle, when I was still afforded more luxuries than so many people will ever get to enjoy. For that, I am grateful. I’m grateful for the incredible opportunity I had to travel for three months; something that some people will never get to experience in their lifetime. I’m grateful for the working opportunities I’ve had, despite struggling through some of it, because some people can never find work. I’m grateful that I have people to support me; to put up with me during my low points, and to celebrate with me during the high ones, because some people have no-one. I’m grateful for getting my life back, even though it was pretty great to begin with.

2017 is already looking to be an incredible year, and already I have so much to look forward to. I’m excited for the travel experiences I have already planned, like Samoa in March, and Cairns in May. I’m excited for the travel experiences I am yet to plan, like a possible European summer and a 50^th birthday trip for my mum with my family. I’m excited to celebrate the wedding of one of my best friends and his beautiful bride-to-be, whom I will stand next to as a bridesmaid on their special day.

Feeling free, and excited for the next chapter!

Who knows what else 2017 will have in store for me, but I know that I’ll be ready for it. Maybe I’ll finally win the lotto and retire before I turn 28. Hey, one can dream, right?

Happy holidays, everyone!

December 8, 2016 3 comments

South Coast Travel

A Berry Nice Weekend

written by Courtney

Since starting my new job this month, I’ve found myself with much more spare time, thanks to the removal of the 90 minute each way train commute to the city every day. In fact, my hours at my new job are so flexible, that I’m able to give myself a long weekend pretty much whenever I like. So, when my boyfriend Scott was asked to be the photographer at a friend’s wedding in Berry, NSW, I jumped at the opportunity to travel down the coast and spend the weekend exploring the small South Coast town.

While Berry is just over an hour from my home city of Wollongong, I’ve never really spent much time there, apart from driving through it during trips up and down the coast. It is a place full of character, and what it lacks in size it makes up for in energy; the streets are always buzzing with locals and tourists alike.

BELLAWONGARAH AT BERRY

Our home for the weekend was an enchanting B&B about ten minutes up the steep, windy roads of Berry Mountain. Surrounded by cool, temperate rainforest, Bellawongarah at Berry is located between Berry and Kangaroo Valley, and offers a luxury, tranquil escape for two individual couples. One couple occupies the heritage listed 1868 Wesleyan church, converted into a secluded cottage set amongst an incredibly well-kept garden, while the other couple stays in the Loft Suite on the top floor of the beautiful main house.

Bellawongarah at Berry

Scott and I stayed in the amazing Loft Suite for the weekend, and we were blown away by the level of comfort offered to us by the owner of Bellawongarah at Berry, Deb. After greeting us upon arrival, Deb introduced us to Bub – the 9-year old Chow who was equal parts floof and spoilt. He looked like a mixture between bear, lion and dog, and his little squishy face put an instant smile on mine. Deb then proceeded to show us around the entire grounds, from the incredible gardens, to the quaint church that was transformed into a cottage, to our own room in the Loft Suite, before giving us space to settle in. Her warm, welcoming nature was unrivalled, and we were excited for the remainder of our stay.

AT ONE WITH NATURE

From the moment we arrived, we felt as though we’d fully submerged ourselves with nature. All of our senses were heightened; from the sound of the birds singing and chirping at regular intervals, to the smell of the fresh, country air and the blooming roses, to the sight of the stunning garden surrounding the beautiful country home. We were only an hour from home, but it felt as though we were a million miles away.

The beautiful gardens

The Loft Suite was cosy, but still spacious and comfortable. The bathroom, however, was the highlight of the suite. From the moment I saw it, I knew I’d be spending a lot of time in there; a huge spa bath occupied the corner, and a large window offered a divine view of the rainforest. Perfect.

BERRY BY NIGHT

After spending some time settling into our weekend home, Scott & I decided it was time for dinner. We asked Deb where we should eat, and being the true local that she is, she rattled off a number of great suggestions off the top of her head. Overwhelmed with choice, we decided to head to Leaf in Berry, a Thai restaurant that had been recommended to me by my good friend Bella on numerous occasions.

We sat at a small table outside, and the warm air still lingered as the sun was setting after the hot day. The food at Leaf was incredible, and the service was exceptionally fast considering the quality of our meals. We ate, enjoyed a cold beer and then decided to head back up the mountain to enjoy the rest of our evening.

A very reluctant photo subject

We got back to Bellawongarah at Berry, and immediately went to explore the garden. It was twilight, and the smell of the rainforest was intoxicating. We sat outside in the little thatched Balinese-style hut at the back of the garden and listened to the sounds of nature; birds singing their goodnight song, swarms of insects buzzing, chirping and clicking, and a tubby wombat shuffling through the marshland, stopping to observe us from below.

Once the darkness fell, we returned to our loft, and I enjoyed a delightful spa bath; complete with bath salts, soaking in the crystal clear water in full relaxation mode while I sipped on a glass of red wine. It was pure bliss.

We then put on a DVD (very retro), and then continued to drink wine and eat cheese and crackers in our cosy bathrobes. It was the perfect Friday night.

GOOD MORNING, BERRY

We woke up to a quiet mountain, hearing only the sounds of birds and insects as our eyes fluttered open. There was mist surrounding the top of Berry Mountain; a view we enjoyed from bed, watching through the skylight in the sloped roof. There wasn’t much time to spend lazing around, though it was something we could have enjoyed all morning. It was time for breakfast.

Breakfast time!

We walked downstairs, and our noses were immediately hit with the smell of a true country breakfast wafting through the open door of the kitchen. Deb, in full host mode, was preparing the amazing spread we would come to enjoy each morning of our stay at Bellawongarah at Berry. She’d told us prior to our arrival that they do ‘serious breakfast here’, and she wasn’t kidding!

Scott & I sat down at the table, ready to enjoy our first course of fresh fruit, yoghurt, muesli and cereal. It was hard not to fill ourselves up on the sweet mango or the farm fresh strawberries, but we knew that there was more to come. The next course was the hot country breakfast, complete with smoked salmon, poached eggs, thick cut toast, mushrooms and tomatoes. It was absolutely divine, and definitely something I could have gotten used to. I was already looking forward to the next day’s feast before I’d even finished.

SOLO EXPLORER

I’m one of those people who are basically half introvert and half extrovert. I thrive in the company of others, especially when surrounded by those I know well, but I also need time alone. Usually, my alone time is spent at home, either working or watching Netflix. This weekend, however, my alone time was utilised in much more fulfilling ways.

Red Rocks Lookout

It was time for Scott to head back into the town of Berry to start photographing the wedding, so after a coffee together, we both set off to start our days. I decided that despite the muggy, overcast weather, I wanted to stay outside and do some hiking. I knew that there was an incredible lookout called Red Rocks, which offered spectacular views over Kangaroo Valley. With Google Maps at my side, I set off to find it.

Red Rocks Lookout is located down a dirt road about 6km off Cambewarra Mountain, and boy was it a drive to remember. Luckily I was driving our Nissan X-Trail, because the bumpy, windy road definitely tested my 4WD skills! I drove for about fifteen minutes, passing plenty of wildlife on my way; small wallabies hopping across the road ahead, various birds flying around the bush, and so many little butterflies with white, orange and brown wings, fluttering around in huge numbers. It was absolutely magical.

Once I got to the end of the road, I realised that I had driven too far. There were a few open spaces where I could have parked and walked the rest of the way, but I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going so I didn’t stop. So, once I arrived at the end, it was less than a ten-minute walk to the lookout – so much for my hiking adventure! Despite the lack of exercise (it was super muggy and hot, so I didn’t mind too much), the view from Red Rocks was incredible.

I sat for a while, enjoying the view and my own company. Sure, it would’ve been great to share the moment with Scott, but I was content. The sounds of nature were just as apparent atop Red Rocks as they were on Berry Mountain, and it was so lovely to sit and relax for a while.

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES

I’ve never really enjoyed driving; I’ve always much preferred to be the passenger of a car than the one responsible for controlling it. However, this weekend I truly loved the windy mountain roads, flanked by the lush, green rainforest. After my ‘hike’, I decided to return to Bellawongarah at Berry for a rest and a cup of tea to recharge before heading back into Berry to continue exploring.

My ‘recharge’ outfit

An hour passed, and I was ready to keep going. I drove back down Berry Mountain, and spent some time wandering through the quirky shops that decorated Berry’s main street. From knick-knacks and souvenirs, to candles and clothes, Queen Street in Berry has something for everyone. You could honestly spend hours strolling around the tiny village, and there would always be something to do, see or eat.

I then decided to head to the beach. I’m basically part-mermaid and had already spent over 24 hours without seeing the ocean, so I was definitely in need of a salty fix. I jumped back in the car and drove the ten minutes to Seven Mile Beach in Gerroa. The wind was chilly, but the water was warm, and I spent about an hour lying in the sand, lost in my own thoughts.

I daydreamed about the adventures I wanted to have in 2017; the places I wanted to visit and the people I wanted to visit them with. I watched children play in the water, fearless of the crashing waves and cool breeze. I dipped my toes in the water, before letting the waves creep halfway up my legs. Then, I realised I was hungry.

Seven Mile Beach

SATURDAY NIGHT IN

As I drove back to Berry, I knew that there was only one thing I wanted for dinner. Scott was still at the wedding, and planned to stay for a couple of drinks and a meal, so I went straight to Mezzadellas – the yummiest pizza restaurant in the village. I grabbed a pizza, and could barely contain myself as I drove back up Berry Mountain, the smell of my large Margarita driving me crazy with anticipation as I crawled up the windy road. I enjoyed my delicious pizza with a glass of red wine, followed by another spa bath, of course.

When Scott arrived home after his big day of photography, we chucked on another movie and kept drinking red wine until we could no longer keep our eyes open. We went to bed with smiles on our faces; smiles stemming from our respective great days, and the thought of the breakfast that awaited us in the morning.

The gorgeous bathroom

BYE BYE, BERRY

Again, we woke to the view of the misty mountain, and the smell of breakfast wafting up the stairs to our loft. We wandered down, hungry, and were again treated to an amazing meal. Deb’s friendly nature combined with her obvious love for her job made us feel completely at home, as though we were visiting a long-lost relative rather than just staying at her accommodation. We enjoyed our breakfast alongside another couple staying at the B&B, who had loved their weekend escape just as much as we did.

As we got ready to say goodbye to our little country home, the sun came out again, feeling warm against our skin. We said goodbye to Deb and Bub the Chow, and sadly left the beautiful B&B. If you are interested in visiting Berry, I would absolutely recommend a stay at Bellawongarah at Berry. Tell Deb that I sent ya!

After a visit to Berry’s famous donut van for some hot, fresh cinnamon donuts and a coffee, we were back on the road heading home. Sometimes you don’t have to go too far to feel like you’ve gotten away, and Berry is the perfect place to escape for a weekend. Where’s your favourite weekend escape?

Bub the Chow

The entrance to Bellawongarah at Berry

The garden tunnel

November 30, 2016 1 comment

Travel USA

Bus trippin’ in the USA

written by Courtney

When my best mate Carlee and I decided to travel the United States of America together in 2012, we had our hearts set on road-tripping around the country – something I have always dreamed of doing. We talked for months about which places we wanted to visit, the things we could do and see, and how much fun it would be to have the spontaneity of driving wherever we pleased.

Then, we priced hire cars.

Since we were both under the age of 25, it was ridiculously expensive to hire a car. Insurance alone was almost twice as much as the actual hire price of the car for a few weeks, and it just wasn’t within our budget to pay it. Disappointed, we started to look into other options, and that’s when we discovered Megabus.

ANOTHER ONE RIDES THE MEGABUS

Megabus is a low-cost express bus service in North America and Europe, offering incredibly low fares – some as little as $1 each way. We could hardly believe the prices when we started looking into it, and decided that bus travel would have to be the way to go. Starting in Chicago and ending in Orlando, we travelled to St Louis, Memphis, Dallas, Austin, Houston, New Orleans and Montgomery for just $85 AUD each. That’s right, $85 AUD per person to travel over 4,000km.

The mighty Megabus. Image Source: Megabus.com

Compared to the thousands of dollars it would have cost to hire a car for two weeks, it was safe to say that we were pretty stoked at our incredible bargain, even if we had to alter our itinerary. Bus travel was more affordable than air travel or car hire, and it certainly didn’t come without a few memorable experiences…

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BUS

Sitting in a hostel in Chicago, the day before we left on the first leg of our bus trip, Carlee and I were enjoying a few cold beers with some fellow Aussies, watching the London 2012 Olympics. Standard hostel chitchat led us to tell our new friends that we were headed to St Louis, MO the next morning aboard the insanely cheap Megabus. Bragging about what a great bargain we scored, we went on to tell them our plans travelling by bus through the southern states over the next couple of weeks.

“Megabus? Have you guys seen the news lately?” one of them asked. Shaking our heads, he went on to explain that there had been some not so comforting news about the Megabus. Over the past few years, there had been some incidents involving the bus company; a bus was pulled over in 2008 due to excess speed and swaying, only for the police to find the bus driver intoxicated; a bus en route to Toronto missed an exit near Syracuse, NY and crashed into a railway overpass killing four people; and most terrifyingly, a bus bound for St Louis, MO slammed into a concrete bridge pillar, killing one person – this happened not only on the same route we were travelling the following day, but also only a week earlier.

Needless to say, we were a bit uneasy about the next couple of weeks of travel, but decided to stick to our guns, pray we’d survive our $85 bus journey across the country and we swore we wouldn’t tell our parents about the Megabus track record until after we’d arrived safely in Orlando, FL.

The Chicago Bean!

The next day, when we arrived at the Megabus depot in Chicago, we felt a bit nervous about getting on the bus and potentially risking our lives to save a buck. However, once we boarded, we found the bus to be clean and comfortable, complete with free Wi-Fi and power outlets at every seat. Obviously, we survived the journey, but I would recommend doing your research before booking your travel (not just bus travel, but all travel) to ensure that you are choosing a safe, reliable mode of transport. We were lucky, and to be honest, I don’t think that reading the news articles beforehand would have deterred us entirely, considering how cheap the fares were.

MEET ME IN ST LOUIS

After breathing an enormous sigh of relief upon our safe arrival into St Louis, Carlee and I made our way to the Huckleberry Finn Youth Hostel, which is located in the historic Soulard neighbourhood. When we arrived, we realised that this hostel, much like the entire city of St Louis itself, was very old and quiet, unlike many of the other hostels we’d experienced on our trip. We counted a total of nine cats living in the hostel, which is about eight cats too many for a normal hostel (and I’m a cat lover!) The lack of atmosphere meant that we made ourselves at home at the bar across the road – the lovely Nadine’s Gin Joint.

A classic Mid-Western style bar, Nadine’s served well as our home away from the hostel, and with cheap drinks and good food, what more can you wish for? We went to the bar both nights spent in the city, and became firm friends with the owners/bartenders; a friendly gay couple named Todd & Don, who both loved our Australian accents and were more than happy to give us free beers! If you’re ever in St Louis, you absolutely need to go and check it out.

The hostel in St Louis

We only had one full day to explore St Louis, which was probably more than enough. We wandered the short mile from our hostel into the centre of the city, and headed straight to the Gateway Arch, arguably the most iconic monument in the state. Known as the world’s tallest arch, the Gateway Monument offers some incredible views over the city and river from the observation area at the top.

After enjoying a delicious lunch at an Irish pub and getting terribly lost on the way back to our hostel, we decided to spend the afternoon at the nearby Anheuser-Busch Brewery, more commonly known as the home of Budweiser. The brewery offers a free tour, which is both interesting and educational, before inviting you into their tasting room, where you’re given the chance to sample their products – all without paying a cent! Plenty of samples and little bags of pretzels later, Carlee & I stumbled down the road back to Nadine’s for a last hurrah before our bus to Memphis the next day.

WALKING IN MEMPHIS

The trip to Memphis was pretty forgettable, and when we arrived in the Birthplace of Rock & Roll, it was absolutely pouring rain; like someone had turned on a shower in the sky. We had gotten a taxi from the bus station to our accommodation at the Pilgrim House Hostel, and when we got out of the car we realised we couldn’t actually see the entrance. There we were, standing with all of our belongings in what felt like a monsoon, and we couldn’t find the front door. Running back and forth around the large building, we eventually found a tiny sign which led us in the right direction.

Soaking wet, we proceeded to check in, and discovered that the Pilgrim House Hostel wasn’t like other hostels in that each guest is assigned a daily chore for the duration of their stay. The hostel had a very different vibe to the other hostels we’d experienced during our trip; it was very quiet, and the building itself was part of a church. We only stayed for a couple of nights, and we were pretty glad to leave as there was absolutely no atmosphere!

The final resting place of the King

HELLO ELVIS

Given we only had one day to explore Memphis, we ventured straight to the famous Graceland – home of Elvis Presley. We happened to be there on the 35^th anniversary of the King of Pop’s death, so Graceland was absolutely packed with diehard Elvis supporters, which definitely made the experience more interesting! I found his home to be quite modest for such a huge celebrity, but when you put it in perspective, it would’ve been more impressive back in the day. It was a strange feeling wandering around the home of Elvis, but it was full of history and we found it to be very interesting, even though we aren’t diehard Elvis fans!

I HAVE A DREAM

We also visited the National Civil Rights Museum, located in downtown Memphis. The historic museum is built around the former Lorraine Motel, where Martin Luther King Jr was assassinated in 1968. Prior to visiting the museum, both Carlee and I had limited knowledge about the civil rights movement, and were interested in learning more. Over the few hours we spent there, we moved through a range of different emotions, starting with shock, then moving onto disbelief, horror, anger, and finally ending with sadness. The civil rights story is told in an engaging, interactive that allows you to fully absorb the history. If you’re ever in Memphis, I would strongly recommend a visit here, as it is truly a humbling learning experience.

The last place that Martin Luther King Jr ever stood

Finally, we just had to check out Beale Street in downtown Memphis. Known as the most iconic street in the entire United States, Beale Street is packed full of bars and restaurants that celebrate the city’s music culture. There are plenty of live musicians, incredible southern food, and more beer than you could ever drink! We found Memphis to be a pretty laid back city full of things to do & see, and full of all kinds of interesting history.

DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS

The next stop on ‘Court & Carlee’s 2012 Bus Tour Across America’ was the Lone Star State – Texas!

DALLAS DAYS

When we arrived in Dallas, TX, we realised that the bus stop was located in the middle of nowhere (basically in the outskirts of the city), and there were absolutely no taxis nearby, nor were there any public buses or trains. Luckily, we had already made friends with a darling pair of older ladies who had ridden the bus to Memphis and back, about four hours each way, purely because they wanted to go on a trip (bless). When we arrived in Dallas, they kindly offered to give us a lift to our hostel, which was lucky because it was quite a distance from the bus stop!

The Wild, Wild West Dallas Irving Backpackers B&B (yes that is the actual name of the hostel) was a teeny, tiny little place located about 20 minutes out of downtown Dallas. We hadn’t really planned to go to Dallas, but some of the Megabus routes only ran between certain cities, meaning we had to go via stopover cities in order to get around, and Dallas was one of these. We’re so glad we went there though, because that’s where we met Cam, one of our favourite travel buddies. Cam was a solo traveller from Western Australia, and after bonding over some instant ramen, we discovered that our itineraries for the next couple of weeks were almost identical. He had to leave the day after we arrived, but we made plans to meet up in Austin, the next city on both our itineraries. Apart from meeting Cam, we didn’t do anything too memorable in Dallas!

AUSTIN NIGHTS

Arriving in Austin, we were super excited to explore the state capital of Texas. After leaving the trusty old Megabus, we made our way to the HI Austin – our hostel for the next few days. Walking into the hostel, we saw a sign that made us cry a little on the inside – ‘Alcohol consumption inside the hostel is prohibited’. Luckily, we soon discovered that while you weren’t permitted to drink inside the hostel, you were more than welcome to drink outside. Phew! We made our way to reception, and discovered that our reservation had been lost, which is definitely not something you want to hear when the hostel has been booked out for the night! The hostel staff were really apologetic, and offered us the common room as our sleeping quarters for the evening. They closed it off at 7pm, set up a portable bunk bed and we had the entire place to ourselves until a couple of beds became available the following day, which was awesome!

Drinking under the hostel awning in the rain with our new mates

Austin had such a cool vibe, and the city itself was really fun to explore. Carlee and I met up with Cam, who had already made a few friend of his own, giving us a good group to explore the city with. One of the most memorable moments from our time in Austin was our night out. We started out by drinking beers on the deck outside the hostel. It was perfect – the sun was setting, giving off a golden glow across the lake. Our beers were cold, the air was warm, and life was good. Too good, it would seem, as Mother Nature decided to throw a spanner in the works and thought that a thunderstorm would be a great addition to our already perfect evening. As the deck was uncovered, we ran inside to seek shelter. Despite the fact that it was impossible to continue drinking our beers outside in the rain, we still weren’t allowed to consume alcohol within the walls of the hostel. Our solution? Stand underneath the front door’s tiny awning, and continue drinking!

Unfortunately, I don’t remember much else from that night (possibly due to the number of beers consumed) but I do remember it being lots of fun! We went to a bar in downtown Austin and had a grand old time. God, I love Texas.

Barton Springs Pool

The next day, Carlee & I went exploring on our own, and found ourselves at Barton Springs Pool, and we couldn’t have been happier! Nursing pretty severe hangovers, the cool natural spring water was more refreshing than ever, and the surrounding park made us feel as though we weren’t in the city at all. It was the perfect way to end our few days in Austin, and I know that I’ll definitely be back one day!

HOUSTON, WE HAVE A PROBLEM

Next up on the bus tour was Houston, TX. As another stopover city, we hadn’t originally planned to visit Houston, and I wish we didn’t have to. Now, I’m sure there are people out there who have spent time in the city and absolutely loved it, but sadly we did not. From the moment we arrived at the bus stop, we felt uneasy about the city. We stopped in at the McDonalds next to the bus station and were promptly harassed by some older men, who may or may not have been homeless. One tried to propose to me, and despite his tempting offer, I found the experience more unnerving than amusing. After grabbing a quick bite, we made our way to our hostel – the HI-Houston Morty Rich Hostel. Now, as much as we didn’t enjoy the city itself, this hostel was the best one we stayed at during the entire trip. Located in the Montrose neighbourhood, the hostel used to be a posh, historic mansion, complete with a pool. We were more than happy that the hostel was as amazing as it was, because we didn’t feel comfortable venturing too far into the city on our own.

While we spent a lot of time at the hostel during our time in Houston, we did have one really great experience. We met a couple of girls in the hostel kitchen one day while we were making lunch. As fellow Australian travellers, we got chatting and they told us that they were headed to the Miller Outdoor Theatre, located about 15 minute walk away in the nearby Hermann Park. Entry was free, and the Breakfast Club was screening so we were more than happy to tag along when they invited us to join them. Despite our earlier experiences in Houston, I’m glad we had at least one happy, warm memory to take with us once we left.

AIN’T NO CITY LIKE NEW ORLEANS

Oh, New Orleans. It would have to be one of my absolute favourite cities in the entire country. We arrived in New Orleans, happy to have left Houston, and excited to explore the vibrant, eclectic city. Our mate Cam had already arrived at the India House Hostel, a funky little place with incredible atmosphere – just what you need from a hostel. Oh, and it only had one cat, so that felt pretty normal too!

After meeting up with Cam, we decided to venture downtown to explore. After jumping on a cable car, we made our way towards Bourbon Street – the heart of New Orleans. We found a bar that had a 3-for-1 special on beers, so obviously we decided to stop in. We grabbed ourselves a round, and then the rains came. Pouring heavily, we realised we weren’t going anywhere for a while. Not ones to be disheartened, we grabbed some more cheap beers and continued drinking until it was safe to leave, which was definitely more than a few drinks later. Tipsily, we wandered back to the hostel for some dinner and more beer before heading back to Bourbon Street for what would be one of the most memorable nights of my life.

New Orleans

Upon our return to Bourbon Street after sundown, we found ourselves in a really cool, tiny jazz bar. After grabbing a drink, we made our way to a table and sat down to enjoy the music. The band was so funky, and we had a great time just sitting there and watching them perform. We decided that the next day, we wanted to go to an op-shop (or thrift store, as the Americans call them) to buy clothes from the 1920’s Jazz era, then go back to the little bar the following night to get really drunk and pretend we’d gone back in time.

After we left the jazz bar, we found ourselves wandering through the French Quarter when we decided to head into one of the nearest bars. Lo and behold, a group of fellow Aussie travellers that we’d previously met and hung out with in Austin, TX were casually hanging out inside. Honestly, what are the chances? We knew they were in New Orleans at the time, but we had no idea they’d be at that particular bar, nor did we exchange phone numbers to organise a meet up. The universe is a funny thing! It turned out that they’d been staying at the hotel attached to the bar, and had been drinking there every day since they’d arrived. This meant that they were good mates with the bartenders, which meant that we were now good mates with the bartenders, which meant free beers! Woo! The free beers were excellent, and after we’d had enough we ventured to the nearest IHOP for a delicious drunken feed, before stumbling back to the hostel around 6am. It was a big night.

I woke up the next day around 1pm, and begun what I believe is the second worst hangover I have ever had in my entire life. Head spinning, I got out of bed and made my way downstairs to see the others, who were feeling rough but definitely not as rough as me! Apparently we still had plans to go op-shopping, much to my dismay. All I wanted was to go back to bed, but I didn’t want to miss a day of exploring so I sucked it up and off we went. As the afternoon progressed, so did my hangover. I couldn’t eat when we went out to lunch (in fact, I threw up twice in the restaurant bathroom). We didn’t end up finding any Jazz clothes (not that I was in any state to start drinking again) so we headed home. We got on the bus, and it was a bumpy ride. I was scanning the interior for the nearest place to throw up, but luckily I held it in. We then had to jump on a cable car for the 5-minute trip back to the hostel, and it was packed. I started to get that feeling in the back of your throat and knew that it was coming. There was nowhere to run.

Such a fun city – New Orleans

I made it off the cable car with about three seconds to spare. It pulled up at our stop, I charged off and proceeded to bend over and throw up on the street outside our hostel. Classy. I then went to bed and slept for about 14 hours before we had to get our bus to Montgomery the next day. Worst hangover ever!

SWEET HOME ALABAMA

Montgomery, AL was another stopover city, and considering we were only there for one night, we stayed at a tiny hotel near the bus station. There was basically no public transport from our hotel to the city, so instead of exploring Montgomery, we decided to hang out at the hotel (luckily, it had a pool) instead. There was literally nothing else to do!

The best part about our very short stay in Montgomery was the discovery of Golden Corral. It was legitimately the highlight of our time there. If any of you reading this know Carlee or myself personally, you would also know that we are obsessed with buffets. All you can eat food is possibly the greatest thing ever, and when we found Golden Corral, we were the happiest people on earth. Anyone reading this who knows the buffet chain is probably thinking how crazy I am writing this, but we loved it! It reminded us of visiting your nanna’s house on a Sunday afternoon, with all the delicious, homely food on offer. Yes, I know, we are weirdos.

Apart from hanging by the pool and eating our body weight in buffet food, our time in Montgomery was quite uneventful. We recovered from New Orleans, then got ready for the longest leg of our bus tour – 17 hours from Montgomery to Orlando, FL.

ORLANDO, ORLANDO

After our 17-hour bus journey, including a few hours stopover in Atlanta, GA for dinner at Hooters, we made it to Orlando. It was the most uncomfortable, long bus trip of my life, and I couldn’t have been happier to finally step off the Megabus for good!

Carlee & I at Universal Studios

Carlee & I met up with Cam again in Orlando, and we had an epic few days introducing Cam to Golden Corral, and Universal Studios. The highlight of Orlando was easily going to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, and we had the best day exploring the magical theme park! I’d been there before in 2010, but this was Carlee & Cam’s first time so it was even more exciting to show them around. The absolute best part of the day was visiting Ollivander’s Wand Shop, as I didn’t go inside last time due to the huge wait times. When we got inside, I was the lucky person chosen to participate and test out wands – it was amazing!

THE END OF THE ROAD

Orlando marked the end of our bus journey – over 4,000km worth of distance covered across the Mid-West and Southern states of the US for just $85 each. It was definitely a memorable experience, and one I’d recommend to anyone interested in travelling through the United States of America.

Until next time!

November 6, 2016 0 comment

Personal Travel

How It Feels To Be A Traveller Who Isn’t Travelling

written by Courtney

I have a confession to make – I’m a fraud.

Or, at least, I feel like a fraud.

It has been nearly two months since the launch of my travel blog, and I’m already losing motivation. I’m also beginning to question whether or not I have what it takes to make my wildest dreams come true. I call myself an aspiring travel blogger, but what right do I have to use that title? I haven’t travelled in over seven months, I’ve lacked new material on this blog in weeks, and I feel like my dream of eventually becoming a digital nomad is so far out of my reach that I may as well give up now.

THE WAY OF LIFE

For some people, the way of life is easy. You finish university, you find a steady job relevant to the degree that you spent tens of thousands of dollars getting, you find a decent place to live (maybe even buy a house), you get married and have children, and you go about your life just as society has always dictated that you should. Don’t misinterpret my words here, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with choosing that path; in fact, it’s probably the smartest way to live your life.

Some people just aren’t cut out for it, especially not me.

As far as my life is concerned, I feel like a little kid who is desperately trying to colour in the lines, because that’s what I’m told I need to do to pass kindergarten, even though my idea of art is something a little less conventional. I like to colour outside the lines.

A TRAVELLER’S LIFE FOR ME

To me, it feels like my life revolves around travel. I’m constantly thinking of my next adventure, I feel anxious when I haven’t booked a flight out of the country, and I know now after a few years of full-time work that society’s version of an adult life just isn’t for me. I don’t want to climb the corporate ladder, I want to climb the highest mountain in the world. I want to live in a country where English isn’t the native language; where I can experience new cultures; where I can colour outside the lines.

I crave adventure; for me, the absence of travel in my life feels like a thirst I just can’t quench. The stability of a full-time job is bittersweet; it gives me the opportunity to earn money to spend on travel, yet the time commitment restricts me from doing just that. Ironic, isn’t it?

A TRAVELLER WHO ISN’T TRAVELLING

I want to call myself a traveller, but how can I do so without actually travelling all the time? Am I a cop-out because I don’t travel full-time? Or am I allowed to call myself an aspiring travel blogger due to the very important fact that I am so deeply passionate about travel?

When I started my travel blog, I wanted to use it to recount the many stories of my adventures, and for a while, that was working for me. I was excited, inspired and motivated to start working towards creating the life that I have always wanted; the life where I could travel the world yet still be able to make a living. I wanted to inspire people to step outside their comfort zones, to explore the world. Then, real life took over.

I work and commute for 12 hours a day, which leaves me feeling drained, tired and completely void of inspiration. It’s not easy trying to write about travel when you lack inspiration, trust me. It also makes me feel like a fraud, because why should people trust my words when all I do is work, sleep and repeat? Who wants to hear the stories of travels from years and years ago when they should be hearing stories of travels from right now?

WHAT DO I REALLY WANT?

This entire post makes me sound like a little brat with the biggest first-world problem in the universe. While this is probably true, I’ll never stop being grateful for the opportunities that my life has afforded me; but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish for something more satisfying.

So, what would make my life more satisfying? Maybe it’s the ability to travel consistently, without financial or time restraints blocking my way. While this might seem like the obvious suggestion, it isn’t a realistic one. Not until I’ve won the lottery, at least.

What about more time in my day? Now, that is something a little more achievable. I recently figured out that time is what I really need in my life right now. Time will give me the chance to make a real effort to work towards my dreams.

I have since gotten a new job, one close to home, which will give me back hours of my time each day. Hours that I can spend finding inspiration; hours I can spend exploring my own backyard; hours I can spend planning my next adventure. I’ll still be working full-time, but in a way that gives me more freedom (and more annual leave, too).

I’M BACK, BABY

It’s hard to be a traveller who isn’t travelling, and it’s even harder to be an aspiring travel blogger who isn’t travelling. What I’ve realised though, is that it’s my passion that drives me, whether I’m currently travelling or not. It’s my passion that makes me work harder to reach my goals; it’s my passion that inspires me to keep going instead of giving up.

After a lot of soul searching, I now understand that life is not a checklist of milestones of which you must complete before you are allowed to consider yourself successful or happy. Life is a squiggly line of ups and downs, of triumphs and failure, of good times and bad. You don’t have to colour in the lines to pass kindergarten.

I’m sorry for being so absent only a mere two months after starting this blog. I want you all to know that I’m back, baby; I’m inspired, I’m motivated, and I’m ready to give you all something to read about.

Life is what you make it, and I’m going to make mine the best damn life I could ever dream of.

October 13, 2016 5 comments

Favourite Travel Experiences Tokyo

Karaoke in Tokyo, Japan

written by Courtney

Stepping out into the evening, the first thing you notice in Shinjuku are the colours. Long after the sun has set is when the city of Tokyo truly comes to life; bright neon signs light up the hordes of people walking through the streets, and the exotic smells of Japanese food assault your senses as you wander aimlessly, mesmerised by the crazy world around you.

It’s no secret that Tokyo, Japan, is one of my favourite cities in the entire world. Full of buzzing energy, the Shinjuku district is one of the most incredibly ridiculous places I have ever visited, and is also the setting for another of my favourite travel experiences – Karaoke in Tokyo.

Bright lights, big city.

KARAOKE IN TOKYO

In Japan, karaoke is a huge part of the culture. From closing a deal with a business associate to bonding with your family, karaoke is sung loud and proud across the many karaoke bars that litter the city of Tokyo. Most of these karaoke bars offer private rooms, some complete with mini-stages and spotlights, and a waiter is on hand to serve you with enough liquid courage to take on any song.

As we all know, the point of karaoke is not to impress others with your singing (thank god), but to liven the mood and create a fun, enjoyable atmosphere, regardless of whether you have a good voice or not. According to Karaoke Scene, the Japanese are generous when listening to others sing, and aren’t shy when handed the microphone; which is likely one of the reasons that karaoke has been so largely accepted in Japanese society, and is so common in Tokyo.

PREPPING FOR THE NIGHT

In February of this year, much to my delight, I found myself in Japan yet again, this time with six of my mates – Scott, Carlee, Jordan, Dengate, Jono & Hannah. We’d decided to head out into crazy Tokyo, and find the best karaoke bar in the city. We began the night in our tiny Airbnb apartment in Shinjuku, only minutes by foot from the colourful centre of the district.

Deciding that the night needed to begin on the right foot, we headed downstairs to the Family Mart located just below our building, and we returned to our room loaded with an absurd number of chuhai cans (if you don’t know what chuhai is, I recommended reading this first), and began to plan our assault on Shinjuku.

PISS ALLEY

The first point of call was the infamous ‘Piss Alley’. Despite its charming name, Piss Alley is one of the coolest places in Tokyo. Relatively unknown to tourists, the cramped alley is full of tiny bars and restaurants, some so small they only fit several people at a time. A local hotspot in the city, many of the places in Piss Alley won’t even allow foreigners (or gaijins) in, so don’t take it personally if you try to get a seat in a seemingly empty bar and you are told that it is full.

The infamous Piss Alley during an unusually quiet moment.

Piss Alley got its name quite literally, as the area used to be a bit of a dive for dodgy locals to get drunk. Given the small space and lack of toilets, people used to answer nature’s call wherever they pleased – hence the name. Charming, right? But charming is exactly what Piss Alley is, and if you can manage to get a table in one of the teeny bars or restuarants, you’ll see why.

Our group, despite being seven people strong, managed to get the only table in one of the slightly larger restaurants. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but we all managed to squeeze in and peruse the strange menu for a tasty treat before hitting up the karaoke bar. Being a vegetarian, there was little on the menu that appealed to my taste buds (although even if I wasn’t, I doubt I would have had the stomach to try the raw horse meat).

It’s hard to describe the atmosphere in Piss Alley. It’s so cramped and busy, but it is absolutely bursting at the seams with culture, life and joy. I can’t think of a single place like it anywhere in Australia, or anywhere else I’ve visited in the world. Being granted access to one of the little restaurants was a real treat, especially considering that many Westerners are turned away. After some odd food, a couple of beers and a few sake shots, we were ready to leave Piss Alley and find the best karaoke bar that our yen could buy.

KARAOKE TIME

We scoured the streets of Shinjuku for about half an hour before stumbling upon the karaoke bar of our dreams. With the sake shots running hot through our bloodstream, we confidently bartered with Yuki, the very tolerant and very friendly cashier at the karaoke house. We eventually agreed to 3,700 yen per person for a two-hour session (roughly $45 a head), which included unlimited karaoke in a private room, plus unlimited drinks. Yes, unlimited drinks.

We were taken up several stories in the elevator before being shown our incredible room for the evening’s festivities. A small platform with a gold microphone stand graced the corner of the room, and the large window adorned an unbelievable view over the bright lights of Shinjuku. We immediately ordered 7 beers, one each, before starting to sing. This would prove to be the only modest drink order of the evening.

Best karaoke establishment in Shinjuku!

HELLO, IT’S ME

Now, I love a good power ballad. My voice may not be the greatest, but boy do I love belting out a tune. Maybe it was the sake, or the beer, or the chuhai from earlier, but for some unknown reason I thought it was a good idea to kick off the karaoke night with ‘Hello’ by Adele. If you’ve got me on SnapChat, you may have even seen me rocking this song in the comfort of my bedroom, but on this night, it was a genuine disaster. The mood, which was quite elevated thanks to our combination of alcoholic beverages, immediately sunk as my melancholy, out-of-tune voice absolutely destroyed the hit song.

When it was finally over, everyone demanded I return to my seat, and I graciously complied. Note to self – Adele is NOT a party starter, no matter how much sake, beer or chuhai you’ve consumed. Carlee was next, and she’d chosen to rap ‘Monster’ – a Kanye/Jay Z masterpiece. As much as I love Carlee, her rapping skills left much to be desired after the amount she’d already had to drink, and she sunk pretty fast. Noticing a second microphone, I grabbed it and joined her, saving her from the sure embarrassment of rapping out of time in front of the six other people in the room. I’m such a good friend. Luckily, my rapping skills are far better than my actual singing, so we rapped the rest of the song triumphantly together, and I redeemed myself from my previous poor song choice.

As we all took turns performing the classics, we also took turns ordering drinks for the room. If you’ve never been to karaoke in Tokyo, the way to order drinks is through a telephone on the wall. You pick it up, press a button and you’re connected to your waiter. You tell him your drink order, then he brings the drinks up. Pretty simple, right?

FOURTEEN MOJITOS, PLEASE

Too simple, it would seem. We found ourselves ordering drinks every 5 or 10 minutes, without checking with anyone else in the room if they’d ordered anything first. Hey, it was a novelty. The best part of the night was when Hannah got on the phone to order some cocktails when we only had about 10 minutes left before we had to leave, and the conversation went a little something like this:

Just a casual amount of drinks for 7 people.

Hannah: “14 mojitos, please!”

Yuki: “No 14, I can’t do that, I do 7.”

Hannah: “Okay, bring 7 up now, and 7 in five minutes!”

And you know what? He did exactly that. We had so many different drinks that at one stage, I was drinking five cocktails at once, taking a sip from each as I went around in a circle. This is the part of the night that gets a bit fuzzy; Dengate trying to dance and sing from atop the tiny tables, but was hindered from doing so due to the lack of table top real estate, and singing together so loudly that no-one could actually hear what song we were belting out. Eventually, Yuki came back upstairs and told us that our time was up, and we had to leave. Adamantly standing our ground and refusing to vacate this wonderful slice of heaven, Hannah managed to convince him to let us stay for another hour, where we continued drinking, singing, drinking, stumbling, singing and drinking until it truly was time to leave.

Before all-you-can-drink karaoke destroyed us all.

THE AFTERMATH

Wandering through busy Shinjuku in the early hours of the morning after all-you-can-drink karaoke had destroyed us all, we managed to find a McDonalds – a mighty feat given our level of inebriation. After devouring enough cheap Japanese Maccas to feed a small nation, it was time to head back to our apartment. As we left the building, we noticed it had begun to snow, albeit lightly. Carlee, who was overcome with emotion at the first sight of snow, began to cry with joy. Dengate, who was overcome with alcohol, had passed out in the gutter and refused to move, despite becoming a real-life snowman. Eventually, we hustled the semi-conscious Dengate and the teary Carlee back to our tiny Airbnb apartment to pass out.

Waking up after our night out at karaoke in Tokyo, to say we were ruined would be an understatement. Hungover as could be, we forced ourselves out of bed to the nearest ramen house, and stuffed ourselves so full of the delicious noodles that we forgot we were hungover at all. There’s something about Japan – you wake up feeling hungover, but once you step out into the crisp, fresh air, it’s like you’re magically cured.

September 21, 2016 21 comments

Bali Travel

The Bali Diaries: Ubud

written by Courtney

Arriving in Ubud, Bali, the first thing I noticed was the quiet. In the rainforest, there are no obnoxious taxi drivers honking you incessantly trying to get a fare, or spruikers on the streets shoving cheap bracelets and sarongs in your face, like we experienced in Seminyak a few days earlier. No, Ubud was quiet. I could hear the birds in the trees, the water in the streams, and the low hum of chatter between the locals. It was relaxing, calm, and so different from the Bali we’d experienced that it felt like we’d entered a different country altogether.

Ubud skies

THE VILLA CATASTROPHE

The serene calm of Ubud shattered almost instantly upon arriving at our villa. Booked through Airbnb, the villa was a sight to behold. A huge pool, plenty of tropical greenery and large, spacious bedrooms welcomed us with open arms. Despite the pouring rain (it was the wet season, after all), our Balinese home for the next few nights looked absolutely perfect. That was until we actually got into the bedrooms, of course, where we discovered an ant infestation like no other. Hundreds of small, red ants were teeming behind the large cupboards, some crawling through the cracks in the skirting boards to join their friends in causing havoc to our beautiful new home. Horrified, we contacted our Airbnb host immediately, and after sending him photos of our new friends, he kindly gave us the option of a full refund if we didn’t want to stay. Given it was late afternoon and it was too late to find a new place to sleep, we agreed to stay one night; if we still weren’t happy the next day, we’d accept the refund and book somewhere else. Needless to say, none of us got much sleep that night. I should probably mention that the reviews for this villa were all excellent; the Airbnb host was truly shocked at the state of the place, and couldn’t have been nicer about the situation. It was a gorgeous villa, and I wish we could’ve stayed there!

Bella walking to Cafe Pomegranate.

BRUNCH WITH A VIEW

After waking up the next morning and realising that the ants weren’t going anywhere, we booked a resort in another part of town, and decided to go grab some brunch in the rice fields while we waited to check in later that afternoon.

Café Pomegranate is a tiny café/restaurant located in the middle of the rice field in central Ubud, and the 15-20 minute walk through the small lane amongst the rice fields was almost as good as the restaurant itself. A cultural experience like no other, we wandered up the path with wide eyes, admiring the strength and dedication of the workers in the fields, and laughing at the wooden sculptures for sale at the little stalls along the way (they were very well-endowed and we were very immature). There’s nothing quite like the work ethic of the Balinese people; they word so hard, both physically and mentally, yet always have time to smile and wave at the foreigners walking past.

The view from Cafe Pomegranate.

To be honest, the food itself was nothing special, but it was cheap and the atmosphere of Café Pomegranate was incredible. With endless views of the surrounding rice fields, the tiny café/restaurant was peaceful, and we happily sat in silence with our drinks simply staring into the distance, observing a way of life so unlike our own.

LIVING THE DREAM

After wandering back from brunch past the many Ubud markets along the main road, we packed up and said goodbye to our little ant friends and left the Airbnb villa for good, en route to the Bali Dream Resort.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by the friendly staff, who immediately showed us to a nearby table while they checked us in. After seating ‘Miss Courtney’ and her group, we were offered hot ginger tea to enjoy during our wait. It was at this moment that we nearly burst into tears of gratitude at the incredible service we’d experienced in a matter of minutes, and after nearly being eaten alive by ants* while we slept at our previous accommodation, it was a welcome change!

*This may or may not be a slight exaggeration.

The Bali Dream Resort was, in fact, a dream. The staff were incredibly friendly, but not in the ‘I work here so I have to be nice’ kind of way, more the ‘I care about my industry and my job, so I want to be nice’ kind of way. We were then given a tour of the resort, including the two outdoor pools, on-site restaurant where we would go on to enjoy our delicious free breakfasts, and the villa itself.

The view of Mount Batur from our villa.

The two-bedroom villa, complete with incredible views of Mount Batur, was beautiful. The surrounding grounds arounds our villa were almost as spacious as the villa itself, giving us privacy from other guests. In fact, we hardly saw any other guests the whole time we were there, except a few here and there in common areas such as the pool. It felt secluded; like we had the entire resort to ourselves, which was great, and the staff were always bending over backwards to ensure we were having a great stay. Plus, they called me ‘Miss Courtney’, which made me feel important. In fact, I still feel important. Please refer to me only as ‘Miss Courtney’ from now on.

A DAY IN UBUD

Although the Bali Dream Resort was so perfect we could’ve happily lived there for the rest of our days, it was time to explore beautiful Ubud; so the next day, we organised an epic day trip with our friendly driver, Tu De. We were picked up after a delicious complimentary breakfast at the Bali Dream Resort, complete with scrambled eggs, more toast than you can ever imagine, and the freshest juice in all the land. Seriously, the free breakfast was better than the breakfasts I usually have at home, and trust me, they’re pretty epic themselves.

TEGALALANG RICE TERRACE

The first stop on our day of adventure was the famous Tegalalang Rice Terrace, and the incredible view took my breath away at first sight. Vast and open, the rice terrace stretches across a huge space, offering an almost panoramic view of the area. We arrived quite early in the morning, meaning there were few others there at the same time, which gave us the opportunity to enjoy the view in a serene, peaceful setting. Although it was early, the heat was intense – a sign of the day to come. We stood for a while, in silence, watching over this incredible landscape before us. I imagined the lives of the people who worked in the terrace, and how hard they must have to work. It humbled me, and made me feel grateful for the life I am able to lead. I didn’t envy the jobs of the Balinese workers down in the rice terraces, but I envied their spirit, and the size of the smiles that decorated their happy faces.

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The girls at the rice terrace.

GUNUNG BATUR

After we left the Tegalalang Rice Terrace, we made our way through the gorgeous green rainforest of Ubud, stopping for the second time after about half an hour to admire another incredible view – Gunung Batur, or Mount Batur, is an active volcano over 5,500 feet tall. As I mentioned before, we had a great view of Mount Batur from our villa at the Bali Dream Resort, and we now had the chance to see it a little closer. This was great news for me, because I’m pretty blind (anyone with a contact lens prescription of -6.5 will understand). If you’re up for it, you can actually do an early morning hike up Mount Batur; a trip worthy of the incredible sunrise views, I’m sure. Unfortunately, we chose not to experience the hike for ourselves, but when I return to Ubud, I’ll definitely give it a go! After our driver, Tu De, insisted that we get out and snap a few photos, we got back on the road; en-route to the Elephant Cave Temple.

ELEPHANT CAVE TEMPLE

Upon arrival, I was immensely disappointed at the lack of elephants at the famous Elephant Cave Temple in Bedulu Village. Despite this, the temple itself was quite interesting. After donning our sarongs (which were 95% sweat at this stage of the day – the heat was ridiculous), we entered the sacred temple, ready to learn more about the ancient history within the rock walls.

After descending the stone steps, we quickly found ourselves in the company of a kind Balinese man, who offered himself as a tour guide. Now, you are free to wander around and explore the relics and wall carvings that adorn the spacious temple, but it won’t be easy for you to understand any of the history without a guide. Viewing the temple with a local gave us a completely different insight into the incredible history of the area, and allowed us to appreciate it so much more. Although it was an interesting and enlightening experience, I believe that unless you have a solid interest in the history and religious significance of the temples, visiting one is more than enough.

LUWAK COFFEE PLANTATION

After a delicious lunch overlooking a beautiful rice terrace, the next stop on our day trip was the Satria Luwak Coffee plantation. The civet cats, a small, possum-like creature native to Indonesia, create the expensive coffee by consuming coffee cherries. After being partially digested and pooped out by the civets, the droppings are gathered before being washed, dried, and eventually roasted. Luwak coffee is known to be the most expensive coffee in the world, but the price paid is much more than simply cash trading hands.

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Learning how the poo coffee is made.

We were assured by our driver that the animals were treated well, which is why we agreed to enter the plantation. It was lush, green and looked like a great environment for the creatures to live. When we saw them in small cages sleeping, we were assured that they were nocturnal, and in the evenings they were let loose in the plantation to consume as many coffee cherries as they pleased. Although thinking about it in hindsight, this makes little sense. We took it at face value, and continued to explore the plantation, eventually tasting and purchasing the coffee as souvenirs. This is something that I regret, as I later did some research and discovered that my naivety had lead me to contribute to a cruel system that takes advantage of innocent creatures.

The civet cats were likely kept in those small cages for their entire lives, being forced to eat as many coffee cherries as they could in order to produce as much Luwak coffee as possible. I felt sick at this realisation, and am ashamed that I went to the plantation at all. If you visit Ubud and your driver suggests visiting a Luwak coffee plantation, I urge you to avoid going there and contributing to the industry. I know I’ll never go again, and the pain of knowing that I helped those poor civet cats live a horrible life will be something I will never be able to shake.

TEGENUNGAN WATERFALL

The final stop on our epic day trip was the Tegenungan Waterfall, one of Ubud’s most popular attractions. This was very clear as we waded through the hordes of tourists to the steep staircase leading down to the falls, muttering obscenities under our breath at all the ignorant people who didn’t know how to walk on a path. Despite the masses, the waterfall itself was quite impressive. Although not being the largest waterfall I’ve ever visited, it was powerful; the sound of the water gushing down at a rapid speed was loud, and it reminded me of the intensity of such a seemingly simple element.

Cooling down at Tegenungan Waterfall.

We were absolutely drenched in sweat by this point of our day, so we stripped off our damp sarongs and jumped in the refreshing water, careful not to swim too close to thundering falls itself. The temperature was perfect, especially considering the heat, but the moment wasn’t quite there; the crowds of people took away from such a beautiful place, and I think without the tourists it could have been quite a serene experience. However, when you visit tourist traps, you’ve got to accept the tourists themselves!

THE ELEPHANT

We finished our day with dinner at the incredible Elephant Restaurant, not far from our resort in central Ubud. Disappointingly, there were no elephants here either. This was quickly forgotten as our food was delivered to our table; delicious vegetarian fare that tasted even better after such a long day. The restaurant overlooks Tjampuhan Ridge, offering spectacular views, excellent service, and a relaxing atmosphere that reminds you that Ubud is a world of its own.

DREAMING OF UBUD

Our time in Ubud was wonderful, and despite the torrential rain, abundance of geckos, ant infestations, and sweltering temperatures, I absolutely loved it. The peaceful, calm atmosphere combined with the green, natural surrounds makes Ubud the perfect place to find peace, solitude and pure serenity… just don’t drink the poo coffee!

September 14, 2016 22 comments

Personal Travel

Hometown Glory: Eden, NSW

written by Courtney

It felt as though I was in a strange dream as I drove into the town where I’d spent the first eighteen years of my life. A feeling of surreal nostalgia swept over me the further we drove into the small, coastal town of Eden, the place where I’d grown up. Everything was different, yet still the same.

Overwhelmed with memories, I stared out the window as we passed important landmarks, such as the country club I used to help my dad clean in the early hours of the morning before school, the same country club where I first learnt to pour a beer. We drove past the turn-off to my old neighbourhood, where I used to spend my days playing at the lake, or riding scooters around the block with my childhood friends. We drove past the vet where my old cat Bamels was put to sleep, the first pet I’d ever known.

THE GARDEN OF EDEN

Located on the Far South Coast of N.S.W, Eden is the last town on the water before the Victorian border. I lived there for most of my life, before moving away after high-school to live, study and work in Wollongong, N.S.W. Anyone who has grown up in a small town will be the first to say that their town is a dead end; a place they can’t wait to leave. I was one of them. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always loved Eden, but there was a whole world out there waiting for me to explore; I figured I was escaping the small-town trap that can capture you, and I was determined to ‘get out’ and go live my life, and I never looked back.

eden

Since I left Eden all those years ago, both my parents have also moved away; my dad left in 2012 to live closer to my grandparents on the Central Coast, and my mum left in 2013 to live in Canberra. I no longer had any roots to my hometown, and this became painfully obvious when I recently returned to the great town of Eden for the first time in almost three years; I felt for the first time like I was a stranger to the place where I had spent over half my life.

FROM A TRAVELLER’S EYES

After I finally accepted the idea that it was possible to no longer felt like a local in my hometown, I realised that I could now see Eden through the eyes of a traveller. For someone visiting Eden for the first time, the natural beauty of the place is what’ll initially catch your eye. The rugged coastal landscape hugs the tiny town, from the deep harbour to the lookout, to the long, sandy beaches, to the outskirts of the huge Twofold Bay surrounding it all. A natural paradise like no other, Eden is a place rich with history, colourful characters, natural beauty, and to put it simply, a traveller’s dream come true.

OLD TOM & THE HISTORY OF EDEN

One thing I’ve always loved about Eden is its whaling history. Growing up, we were surrounded by whales; our local AFL team was (and still is) the Eden Whalers, the local soccer club named aptly named the Killer Whales, and every year the town hosted the Eden Whale Festival – a weekend of celebrating Eden’s history. There’s also the Eden Killer Whale Museum, within which the skeleton of ‘Old Tom’ resides.

Old Tom’s story is one I tell everyone who asks me where I’m originally from. He was a killer whale who lived in Twofold Bay, and his pod would often help the local whalers in Eden by herding other whales into the shallow waters of the bay, or alerting the whalers at the now heritage-listed Davidson Whaling Station to the presence of whales by slapping their tails on the surface of the water.

Old Tom’s skeleton at the Eden Killer Whale Museum. Image Source: Wikipedia

Waiting for the whalers to join them in their tiny row boats, the killer whales would then lead them to the right spot. Old Tom and his pod of killer whales would then attack the other whales, attempting to cover their blowholes so they could no longer breathe. As a reward for helping the whalers subdue their prey, the killers were given the lips and tongues of the dead whales – an incredible relationship between man and creature.

Old Tom’s body was found floating in Twofold Bay in 1930, and his memory was forever preserved in the Eden Killer Whale Museum – a place you should check out if you ever visit the great town. Today, whaling in Eden is nothing but a historic memory. Learn more about Eden’s whaling history here.

EXPLORING EDEN

The first port of call on my journey through my hometown as a traveller was the Great Southern Inn, or as the locals put it, the Top Pub. Walking in with my boyfriend Scott and my mum Jo by my side, I was instantly taken back to memories I’d stored in the very back of my mind. Weddings, sporting presentations, birthday celebrations and countless other events I’d attended at the Top Pub in the past came back to me in a wave of nostalgia, and I couldn’t help but smile. Though the décor, layout and some of the faces had changed, I knew deep down that it was the same old pub where I’d made so many memories. Plus, lunch in the restaurant, Essentially Eden, is absolutely delicious, and I’d recommend popping in for a feed if you’re in town!

court

The harbour was next on the list. After grabbing a coffee, we strolled up and down the wharves, watching the local fisherman unloading their boats, full of fish that would eventually make their way to the markets in Sydney and Melbourne. We saw a few familiar faces as we roamed around, admiring the view of Snug Cove from our seat on the edge of the wharf above the third-deepest natural harbour in the Southern Hemisphere.

When I lived in Eden, I always thought it was so vast, and it took forever to get from one side to another. Coming back after almost 9 years living in a city the size of Wollongong, I realised that Eden is actually much smaller than I remembered. Walking from my old house to the main street used to feel like forever, but now it seemed like nothing. We drove up to the Rotary Park Lookout to take in some of the incredible coastal views that Eden has to offer, as well as go past the first house I remember living in. It was here that I started to really feel sentimental about my return to the great town, and I knew that I’d taken my years living here for granted. As we wandered through the cliff-side forest that used to serve as my childhood playground, I wished I’d spent more time exploring my hometown when I lived there, rather than wishing I was somewhere else.

FROM LOCAL TO TRAVELLER AND BACK AGAIN

Scott had visited Eden with me before my mum had moved away, and has always loved exploring the coastline. He often encouraged me to take a road trip down the coast, stopping in and exploring the towns along the way, before ending up in Eden. ‘Why would I want to do that?’ I’d reply. ‘I lived there my whole life and did that drive all the time!’ Only now I realise how silly it was for me to assume that just because I’d lived somewhere my whole life, it wasn’t worth returning to.

courtjo

Scott’s love of my hometown and his eager desire to explore it has made me realise how lucky I have been to grow up in such a beautiful place, and how much I’d missed it. A weekend certainly wasn’t enough time to reacquaint myself with Eden, but we’ve already made plans to return in the summer, and take that road trip I’ve been denying for so long.

Until next time, Eden. You were, and always have been, simply wonderful. Despite the number of years that continue to pass, and the fact I no longer have a house to call home, you’ll always be the place where I grew up. You’ll always be my hometown.

September 4, 2016 19 comments

Travel

When Things Go Wrong Overseas

written by Courtney

It is an impossibly optimistic belief that nothing can go wrong while you are travelling. Even with the upmost care and caution, you’re bound to find yourself in a sticky situation at least once during a trip, and this can have the potential to ruin your entire experience. I’ve had plenty of unfortunate incidents occur during my travels, and I’ve learnt when things go wrong overseas, the most important thing you can do is stay cool, calm and collected. Far easier said than done, mind you, but it’s the only thing that will help a situation that is beyond your control. Here are a few mishaps I’ve encountered over the years….

THE PASSPORT INCIDENT

When I first moved into my dorm room at the University of Colorado at Boulder during my study abroad experience, it was completely, utterly flooded. I was lucky enough to have snagged a single room, but unfortunately the universe decided to throw me a test of patience on that first day just for laughs, I’m sure. Cheers for that, universe! Anyway, the carpeted rug on my floor was completely saturated thanks to my leaking air conditioner. Calmly, I advised my residential advisor straight away, and was assured that the problem would be solved that afternoon. Sure enough, I went back to my dorm a few hours later and had a brand new, dry carpet rug, and was told that the air conditioner was fixed. So I then unpacked my stuff, set up the room and happily began to settle into my new home.

BYE, BYE PASSPORT

A happier moment from my first week in Colorado.

That afternoon, I left the dorm to go to orientation, and arrived home a few hours later to find the room completely flooded again, despite the fact that my air conditioner had supposedly been fixed. Frustrated, I went back down to my RA and after apologising profusely, he got the maintenance guy to come back and fix the problem once and for all… Or so I thought. The next morning, my second replacement carpet was saturated, but this time something else had happened. Something much worse than a wet carpet in a dorm room. You see, my handbag was sitting on the floor next to my bed, a good few metres from the troublesome air conditioner. Yet the flooding had inched across the entire floor, and had well and truly soaked my handbag. Hey, it’s a handbag, what’s the big deal? Well, the big deal was the fact that my handbag was the current home of the single most important travel document you can have when you’re overseas – your passport.

It was ruined. Waterlogged and damaged beyond recognition, I threw it across my tiny dorm room and broke down in tears. I’d been in Colorado for less than a week and I had already managed to ruin the one thing I was supposed to keep safe. After a decent cry and a few breakdowns to friends and family over Skype, I decided that I needed to move on and focus on fixing the problem. I had my mum express post the necessary documents required for obtaining a new passport overseas (then had to anxiously guard both my mum’s and my own birth certificate for the next six drunken months), I booked flights to the nearest Australian Consulate (which was in California), and tried my best to relax about the entire situation.

FIXING THE PROBLEM

A couple of weeks later, I got up at the crack of dawn, flew to Los Angeles, replaced my ruined passport at the Australian Consulate, killed a few hours at Santa Monica Pier, then flew back home to Colorado that evening. It was a stressful day, but when it was over I felt nothing but relief. Sure, it was an inconvenient and frustrating situation, but I didn’t let it ruin my experience. Although my air conditioner never flooded my room again, I kept my passport safety tucked away on the highest shelf in my room.

ALWAYS DOUBLE CHECK YOUR DATES

When you’re studying abroad and you’re drunk 90% of the time, there are bound to be a few mishaps. For example, I was planning a trip over the Thanksgiving break to visit the University of Massachusetts, where my mate Holly was studying abroad at the same time. Layla, another friend who was studying at the University of Miami, was also meeting us in Boston. I was then flying to Miami with Layla for a week, then flying back to Colorado – so I had to book three separate flights. Excitedly, I booked all my flights in a haste before heading for a night out, eager not to miss a second of the pre-drinking we did almost every night anyways. What I didn’t realise was that I’d actually booked one of my flights for the completely wrong date.

REALISING MY MISTAKE

Luckily I rebooked my flight, or I would’ve missed out on singing with the band in Boston.

I didn’t realise my mistake until about a month before I was supposed to fly to Boston, when I got an email from Southwest Airlines wondering why I hadn’t checked into my flight. Confused, I looked up my flight information and came to the horrible realisation that I’d booked my flight from Miami to Denver a month early. I quickly looked up flights and wanted to cry when I realised that they were now twice the price. Again, in a river of tears, I had a breakdown at my absolute stupidity.

Despite my idiotic mistake, after I’d paid the money (which turned out to be nearly $500 for a one-way flight between Miami and Denver), I moved on. A month later, I set off on the trip and although I still felt like an idiot, I was over it because, to put it simply, there was nothing I could do about it.

STOLEN MONEY

On a recent trip to Bali, my mate Samantha experienced one of the worst things that can go wrong when you’re travelling – a stolen credit card. It was our first day in Seminyak, and we’d just finished having brunch when Sam went for a quick walk to the ATM to get some cash. We’re not entirely sure what happened, but she either left her card in the machine or dropped it somewhere along the way back, but a few hours later when we were getting ready to head to the beach bars for sunset drinks, she realised that it was gone.

Our night at the beach in Seminyak was a success, despite the earlier mishap!

Staying calm, we helped her check every inch of her luggage, before moving onto our own luggage and the rest of the villa. We searched everywhere, but her pink credit card was nowhere to be found. Then we checked her online banking. Looking at the screen in horror, we saw that over $4,000 had been stolen from her account.

Of course, there were tears. There was plenty of swearing, too. Sam, however, calmed down and did what she had to do; she called her partner back home in Australia, who got in touch with the bank, and she cancelled her card and transferred all her funds into another account. She also had a few beers, because if you’re going to have $4,000 stolen from you on the first day of your holiday, you may as well be drunk. Sam handled the situation like a champion. If it had been me, I wouldn’t have been quite so calm, I’m sure. We ended up going to the beach bars that night, just like we planned, and had a really good time, because Sam refused let it ruin her night, or her trip.

WHEN THINGS GO WRONG OVERSEAS

At the end of the day, shit happens. You might ruin or lose your passport, and you might get your credit card stolen or book flights for the wrong dates without realising. Things are bound to go wrong, because that’s life. The only things you can do is try to stay calm, do everything you can to rectify the situation, then sit back and relax, because there’s nothing else you can do about it. Except maybe have a beer, or ten.

What’s the worst thing that’s happened to you when you were overseas?

September 2, 2016 0 comment

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