Alice Springs and Ayres Rock: Hot, Dry, Fun

With only week under our collective belt together Tyler and I headed off to Alice Springs to carve some notches into that belt. At the crack of 9am we went to catch a bus to the airport which somehow, even though we were early for it, we missed. What we didn't miss was the best cab driver ever, who picked us up. On the 20 minute drive to the airport he regaled us with information about the moons of Neptune made of liquid methane, pronounced by our cunning chauffeur, Mee-thane with and emphasis on the Mee.

After about an hour in the plane we touched down in the land of the dry ass desert. The internet gods had told us about a lovely hostel just over the Todd River (pictured above) in the middle of Alice Springs. We made our way there and subsequently to the pool were we med the lovely Inga. Tyler correct me if I'm wrong.

She decided to accompany us to the look out over Alice Springs. We'd heard the sunset was glorious and it did not dissapoint.

As the sun fell over the hills we knew that we had to get back as we had an early morning ahead of us. Of cousrse we went to the local watering hole before sleep set in. It was called Bojangles. Here's a giant bear trap.

The next morning started too early for everyone involved. The bus must have picked us up around 5 am or something. I don't remember, everything before noon is really too early. We drove for about 4 hours listening to the light crooning of our aged Australian be-mustached guide nicknamed, Tic.  


When we arrived at the rock he gave us the obligatory 10 minute diatribe on how 42 people have died on the rock and that we might be 43 if we climbed it. Being of the adventurous ilk Tyler and I decided to climb it, at least part way.

We scrambled up a good 60 feet of increasingly sloping red limestone until we got to the aid chain. The chain was sadly only about 2 and a half feet off of the ground so it provided little support for our accent.
Below is the first picture I took from the rock. Off in the distance is another rock formation called the Olgas. Note the desert.

Here's a picture of Tyler descending employing the almost useless chain.



When we came down, unscathed, Tyler and I decided to explore the base which yielded some cool pictures. Here is a good one showing the desolation of the landscape.

Tic took us around the rock explaining the various Aboriginal religious beliefs about the amazingly formed Rock. They call it Ularu which has become the official name in recent years but most Australian in the city still call it Ayers Rock. As with all great adventures we ended this one with champagne. As the sun set over the Australian desert we sipped unmarked bottles with about 50 of our closest friends.

This is what happens when you hand your camera to a tourist. And here be the beast herself, respendant in her earthy rocky late afternoon glory.

The rock changed colors many times before we left but I like this one the most. As fast or faster than we'd come we were cajoled back into the bus for the long ride home. Our beds were kind that night.

Glenelg: Sounds like coughing something up.

In the first week I met a delightful couple, Rudy and Chantel. We went to a barbacue at their house and had a few beers. I got to experience a real Australian Barbie! However I was sadly disapointed to hear that not only were there no shrimp to throw on, but Australians exclusively call them "prawns."Who knew? We had a wonderful time and somewhere in the middle of the party someone decided it was a great idea to play ne'erdowells, to hop the neighbor's fence and pick some olives from their tree. We ended up ripping a branch off the tree! Whoops.

I only found out later that the house was abandoned and we risked little other than skinning our knees on the fence, but the thrill was nice at the time.

Adelaide quickly became too small a place to confine the likes of Tyler and me. The first weekend we headed for a local sea town called Glenelg. It was nice there. We saw adorable little children playing on the beach like this one pictured here.

Tyler took a moment to play fashion model on the dock.

He guided me with his sheer animal power. The man was really a natural in front of the camera. Here we are together, me wearing the worst sun glasses known to modern man.

The local fishermen were out in force and I caught a shot of this one's crazy bicycle. I like how it turned out.

It was a sleepy little beach town. So much so, that they even had their own metal detector guy combing the beach for lost Dubloons. This was a recovery day so there's not a lot of action in it. Sorry I know my joof is know for swashbucking action!

Till next time.

Blue Mountians are not so to a colorblind man, and Adelaide First Impressions

The next day we went on a trip to the blue mountains, ate lots of food and finally Tyler flew to Adelaide. Here are the mountains...











Here are some local tigers.












And I know we agreed not to talk about it but here is Tyler getting taken advantage of by a Koala. You have got to watch those little buggers, they're incorrigible. Due to a silly mishap my flight was changed to the day after and I was forced to spend one more night at Jill's.

When I arrived in Adelaide it was dry and cold. A strange combo but there you go. I was drinking water like I was in the desert. I later would be.The first few days were recovery from travel and drinking so I spent a lot of time indoors. That however was acceptable considering that it was raining and cloudy. This was the weather I had expected in Seattle not Australia but you can't really order that, the weather I mean.

On the second or third day (things are fuzzy) I took a walk around the park near Tyler's ridiculously large top floor penthouse suite. You think I'm kidding but it was all of those things. Anyway more on that later back to the park. I stalked some wild animals and came up with these pictures.

I found a wild parrot:
Not as difficult as it sounds owing to their loud mating rituals.

I wish this was a Red Headed Boobie or a Nut Hatch
cause I like saying those names, but I think it's an Australian Pigeon (opening for the Sex Pistols).
This is probably not a gum tree which explains why I found
no Kookaburra in it.
Ok I'm a photographer-ish so I am allowed one kind of arty shot, right?
I took this while wearing a beret and
smoking out of a thin black cigarette holder. Incidentally this is the backside of the old fruit and vegetable market in town that has been gentrified into upscale shops.
Ah the simplicity of a bench. Shinning with sit-able warmth there in the middle of the park.

So that's about it for my Adelaide first impression. That night we went to a party with some "real" Aussies which I will talk about next time. Until then, be well.

Sydney Redux

There I was sleepy and having a nice beer with my friends in the hostel when Tyler and Jill ripped my from my comfort zone and tossed me headlong into the minuscule yet ready ample arms of the back seat of a mini cooper. (and yes it was kind of an uncomfortable place).

We headed to a friend of Jill's house and drank Peroni until the sun came up. Actually we kicked it pretty early that night as we were all tired. The next night day we headed to the horse races. I've never been to a horse race in the US let alone one in another country. The tradition it appeared was one of the British ilk when it came to dress, Big hats (which we'll go into later) and fancy duds for the men. That is were the tradition stoped being British and became purely Australia.

Dresses in every color adorned the green in front of the race track, having a competition of their own as to who could be the shortest on the thighs. The hats the women were wearing were more of a "hat gesture" than a hat. Tiny top hats were precariously pinned to clumps of women's hair. Little red berets hung from bottle blond locks and even the occasional miniature cowboy hat waltzed by akimbo.


The men were decked out their sunday best with sun-glasses fake tans and wads of cash. One man came as a circa 19070s pimp.

As we entered the front gate there were dogs which I later found out were sniffing for cocaine. It's a filthy habit for dogs but there you are. The doberman looked at me with those "gotta get my next fix" eyes and felt suddenly sorry for him.



<--Here is a picture of what happens when you take too much cocaine. Stay in school kids.

We weren't there 10 minutes before I surmised that really the only reason for about 90% of the people to be there was to get dressed up and DRINK HEAVILY.


Horse races are fast. Waiting for them to start and killing the in-between time, that's the trick. Enter our old friend "extremely overprice libation." As well as I can tell you just sit and drink and lose money and drink some more. Somewhere in there you get the vague idea there are some animals running around but no one has told you when or where.


After a long day of watching everyone around us get unstable we headed to a bar where I was obliged to pay $7 for 10oz of crappy Australia beer. Hey but the music was good. After a while I got bored and eventually fell asleep a bit in my chair. I was immediately thrown out of the bar. Tyler was thrown out minutes afterward for reading a book.

Right before I left I managed to take one picture. Funny but not every Australia I would meet would be the svelte surfer you might imagine.




The next day would start late.

Sydney was a lovely mistress

After about a day of solid travel 2 books later and a number of cups of tea I arrived in Sydney airport. I took the very convenient train right into the city and headed directly for my hostel stereotypically located in close proximity to the beach. Bondi Beach to be exact. On the bus ride in two other backpackers who would become known to me later as Dustin and Justin, approached me on the bus. It turned out that they had met in the airport, were both Canadian and almost (save a letter) shared a name. They ditched their hostel reservations and decided to throw in their lot with me as I had a place right by the beach! We ended up staying in the same room and spent the next few days together.

The hostel was lots of fun. YHA Bondi Beach was the name if I recall and they just had a lovely set up. It was 9 am when we got there so we ditched our bags in the room and headed for the ocean and in search of food. No we weren't going to catch it. We just knew that's where the restaurants be!

It was cold but it wasn't that cold in the ocean. I mean here I was, in the ocean, in September. Bad ass. We swam around in the strangely rough waters for a while and decided to get some food. I don't know what we ate but it was good. We grabbed a few bottles of wine and headed back to the hostel where we drank them. Hung over and in a daze the next morning we woke to find that the whole of Sydeny was covered in Red Fog. Apparently it had never happened there before. We all thought it was normal.

The next few days fell into place with a similar sort of reckless abandon. We toured around the city, saw the opera house, checked out the big bridge and all tried our hand, with epic non-success, at surfing.

The nights in the hostel were a lot of fun. You couldn't throw a rock in any direction without hitting a Canadian. They were like geese during migration season. I've heard Canada is not the most hospitable during winter, hence the Exodus to Oz.

<-These are actual Canadians in the wild.

However the highlight of my hostel stay was definitely our two other roommates. Derek and Rob were two Irishmen that had been living in the hostel for about a month before we got there. They were hilarious. Rob told stories like he'd been doing it professionally since he was young. Wild embellishment frosted over with a thick Dublin accent makes a tasty auditory cake. Derek was absent minded but funny as well. For the last two days we simply drank together and told stories. We drank more beer between the 5 of us than I thought possible for 10 men to drink. Secret Weapon? Irishmen.

After staying in the hostel for 3 lovely nights there was an ever-so light rapping at my door around 9pm on that Friday. There standing in the hallway were my friends. Tyler my old friend from Seattle who I had come to visit and my new friend Jill who I had yet to have the pleasure of meeting.

I waved goodbye to my international buddies and began a raucous and unexpectedly crazy weekend involving a wholly different side of Sydney.

P.S. It involves the backseat of a mini cooper.

Cambridge Reprise Second Coming

On a sunny pre-dawn September morning Rana and I left the warm bosom of Seattle and headed for the airport. After a day of travel and a layover at the most depressing airport I've even visited, Atlanta International, we arrived in London. Weighted down with a considerable amount of baggage we took refuge in a coffee shop to kill some time until our train to Cambridge.

We watched the local fauna with their ridiculously skinny legs. What is it about London ladies that allows them to uniformly have such skinny walkers? The prancing entertained us for a while at Covent Garden while we ate our Cornish pasties, the real reason for our stop. If you've never had a Cornish pastie, well let's say you've been missing a culinary delight.

We took the next train to Cambridge and go there about 7 at night. We met up with Emeric, my French friend, his lovely girlfriend Emilie, and Emeric's American Aunt, Jane. Rana and I were beat so we headed to bed a few hours later.

The next few days we explored Cambridge together. We go to see the lab where Emilie is doing her post doc reseach. Freaking sweet, except her research is all done with fruit flies so you can imagine there was an unsettling creeping feeling as you left the lab. "Did I bring any with me? Ahh they're in my shirt," but they weren't.

We went to the Cambridge Film festival and saw a movie about a zombie infestation caused B by infected words. Apparently it postulated that the English language itself was infected... preposterous...brains...need brains. Sorry lost track. The only way to fight it was to speak French. I had now divined why our friends had selected this movie...

On the final day I said goodbye to Rana as she headed for Istanbul and I headed for Australia. I was indeed sad as I would not see her again for at least a month. I had a later flight so I stuck around and Emeric Emilie and I headed over to the famous "Chariots of Fire" Race. They played the music and everything. Wow, and with that England became a thing of the past for me as I headed to the land of Roos and cuddly Koalas.

(Pictures coming. I have had some slight computer problems since I arrived.)

Devo out

The Omnivore's Dilemma

This is a book you should read. Without being overly preachy this fine chunk of informative literature throws into sharp relief that which we need to know about what we eat.

My favorite character is Angelo Garro. Angelo shows us how far we are from the production of our own food by being something most people aren't, a self producing forager.

"I have the passions of foraging, passion of hunting, opera, my work. I have the passion of cooking, pickling, curing salamis, sausage, making wine in the fall. This is my life. I do this with my friends. It's to my heart."

This quotation grabbed me. I want to feel like that, too. I want to feel connected to the tradition of food in a way I'm not. Yes I cook and bake a lot but not with ingredients about whose pedigree I know much.

Read the book and allow yourself to get the message. Your body will thank you.

Festive Romp in Capitol Hill

There are mascots and there are icons. Pictured below is the latter my friends! 7 feet of pure unadulterated pink foam rubber waving at you certianly turns your head. Some friends and I were walking around Capitol hill on Sunday as we happened upon this prominent penis. At first we thought he might be selling Oscar Myer but soon realized that his aims were something far more pointed.

It is quite jarring to have something like this simply thrust into your day but as we looked on in wonderment we began to penetrate the real meaning of the display. Everyone there was encouraged to make friends with him, handle him. One lady even gave him a little kiss. Hey, Disney had Mickey, Nintendo had Mario why can't Gay City have, Captain Penis or the Erect Defender, or Super Dick? (pick one). Needless to say this made our day and we rode those happy thoughts all the way home.

Once home I felt the need to dig deeper into the penis mystery and so emerged: Healthy Penis. Healthy Penis was created in an effort to educate people about syphilis in San Francisco. Somehow he had managed to undulate his way up to Seattle to delight us and many others. Healthy Penis's growing fame is shown here in a very serious daily show article.

A direction hath been unfurled before me

So you wonder where I've been? I've been plotting. Ever since I arrived back in the US I have had very few "travel adventures" to impart so I have been thinking of the best direction in which to take my blog. I think I may have found it.

I believe it will be:

A bunch of design, a bit of tech, and whatever humorous factoids might pop into my mind.

Today I thought I'd start it with: Things that strike me a silly. 10 of them to be exact.

1) White kids from the burbs who used the word "son" for emphasis.

2) Someone telling me a movie is awesome based solely on its special effects. (Exception Eric H.)

3) Expensive fruit.

4) That Velveeta is called a "Cheese product."

5) Signs that tell me to read them.

6) There is no 6.

7) Bad news on a good day.

8) People not eating pork because they think they'll get swine flu.

9) Chicken-Fried Steak.

10) Partially Hydrogenated intentions.

The Best Job in the World goes to someone else...

You know it is obvious that Australia doesn't know talent when they see. That said I have not been selected to go. A sad day. They wanted someone a tad less funny and a lot more Marine Biologisty. In the words of Sigmund Freud, Whatev?!

Their loss.

Anyway thank you all who voted.

Devon

The Best Job in the World Part 2

For those who have been waiting in rapt anticipation, It's finally here! It took days of planning, split second timing and an almost Herculean resistance to embarrassment, which I have. Rana gets an honorable mention for filming. Thank you.

My video is up and running on the islandreefjob.com website. Here is the link:
http://www.islandreefjob.com/applicants/watch/MXC9-uRn2vw

If for some reason you have trouble viewing it there I have also posted it below but please go to the website and vote for me.

What you won't find on the website are the outtakes which I have also included below. Enjoy.
Thanks,
Devon

Best Job In the World Final Application


Outtakes

Creative Spelling

This little gem has been sitting in my save box for a while so I felt it time to unleash it. I have spent a little under a year here in this crazy country, called Turkey. Herein are some of the funny images and situations I've encountered. Please remember Turkish is a complex and fascinating language. It is as opposite to English as you can get really. Also depicted here are some examples where a direct or just plain horrendous translation made its way to the public.

Click the pics for a larger wiev. (you'll get it later.)

Lets start with a fun one...














I don't know if it's a brand or generally good advice.
Taken in Izmir.















Doggie and Furry style!
Taken in the Izmir Grand Bazaar.















For all of you Antiquers out there.
Taken in Cappadocia.















Turkish Viagra. This vendor claims (if you look closely) five times in one night! Make sure to properly hydrate.
Taken in Istanbul Egyptian Market.


















Ayrian Flour? It's not just white, its Extra White.
Taken in Cyprus.















Just add "wich."
Taken at a restaurant in Bodrum.















I always wondered where the Uncool people hung out. Question answered.
Taken in Kadıköy, Istanbul.
















Not something you want to see when you're on a dangerous Bus trip.
Taken in the bus station between Izmir and Bodrum.
















Plase run spell check before printing a sign, Mr. Hotel manager.
Taken in a hotel in Çeşme.















Is it better when the Aircondation is working?
Taken in the same hotel in Çeşme.
















I hope you can back that up.
Taken off of Istiklal street in Istanbul.
















There's all kinds of wrong here. I don't know the Turkish design wizard who came up with this one but I'm amazed. I just don't know what a bloody hand print has to do with sport or women.
Taken at the Eminönü dock Istanbul.
















Ok, so I've seen some ridiculous tattoos but this one is unique. "Coffee..!" What the hell does that even mean? This photo is enhanced by the presence of the 70s pornstar next to her.
Taken at the Efes One Love festival, Istanbul.
















Where is she from? Don't go Russin' to conclusions. Taken in Cappadocia during one of our many forced "look at pottery" stops.













Um my favorite dish is "Steak Mexican Italian Chicken!" (May need to enlarge to see this one.) It´s a turkish seafood cafe late bar wine house as well.
Taken in Kuşadası.














Yeah water sports!
Taken in Kuşadası.















It's Tobe started to look in the souvenirs shops here.
"Hey does anyone know how to write in English?"
"No!"
"Cool lets make a sign!"
Taken in Cappadocia.















Be careful folks there are rumors of fake Turkish food circulating throughout central Turkey.
Taken in Cappadocia.
















Nothing like a solid marble dildo to brighten up your sex life.
Taken in Cappadocia.















Mediocre food since 1993!
Taken in Ortaköy, Istanbul.















Let me translate the Turkish for you, "Come join the Junior Pirates where you will learn to pillage, keelhaul scurvy dogs and grow a bitchin' mustache."
Taken in Sultanahmet know to Americans as the Blue Mosque.















"Ahh I've fallen and I'm poorly drawn!"
Taken in Efes (Ephesus).















Turns out this is my usual course of action in an emergency, go to the bar and preferably leave children out of it.
Taken in Kuşadası.
















"NO not that one. The one with tassels!"

Taken at the Kadıköy Tuesday market.




















You ever hear of someone with sunshine coming out of their ass. This guy's getting a rainbow enema that looks like it just made his day.

Taken in Boyner department store on Bagdat street Istanbul.
















You don't say?

Taken in Cappadocia.















Ya get what you pay for.
Taken in Cappadocia, Turkey.















Nothing says refreshment like a rodent!
Vole Beer!
Taken on Istiklal Street Istanbul.















Mom posing by "Harem" which is dutifully translated here for us, "The Harem." I don't think I'd have ever figured that out.

Taken at Topkapı Sarayı Istanbul.















I had to save this epic blunder for last. "Wiev Point?" I mean come on here, I couldn't have misspelled it worse if I tried. For the kicker we have "Treasure" spelled with two "I"s. It's not even supposed to have one "I". Oh well, I guess it's no body's business but the Turks.

Thank you all for sharing my year aboard. Hope this finds you safe and with spell check.
Devo