In Search of Pinchers and/or Pinchy

To celebrate my trip to Christmas Island, I've been playing the Beach Boys on repeat in my head because of this final scene from "The Summer of 4 ft. 2" episode of the Simpsons.

Anyone who is a nerd like me will know that scene.

I'm currently at the Perth International Airport. I must say it's a quite a grim place. It's vacant – physically and emotionally. There's not a lot of choice of food places or news stands. In the centre is a tacky gold, sparking Christmas tree. It's the aeroport love forgot.

Speaking of which, it feels weird to see all kind of Christmas decorations around Australia when it's 30C outside and everyone's in boogie shorts and Hawaiian shirts.

During my 16-hour layover adventure in Melbourne yesterday, I passed by a lot of Christmas wreaths and lights in the eastern part of town where all the high-end Gucci, Hermes and Dior stores are. I also passed by a lit up theatre resembling the Elgin that was playing King Kong. I just started enjoying attending musicals and I think had I had another day, it would be worthwhile to see.

But with limited time, I chose to spend it at the Queen Victoria Night Market, which was fantastic. Next to the one on Temple St. in Hong Kong, it was my favourite one.

I arrived there around 7 p.m. and it was just packed with people. There were long lines of people at the rows of street food stalls and many who sat on the ground with friends, chomping away on the yummy goods.

Whenever I travel, I try and bring back things I couldn't find back home.

There were tons of vintage clothing vendors, handmade goods and stuff you'd find on Etsy by independent retailers. Look! An echidna next to a wombat! Big fan of flea markets. I was in heaven.

My Marine Monkey tank is one of my favourite pieces of clothing. I found a nice compliment – the detective rhino.

A lot of people recognized my TD Visa as a Canadian credit card and struck up conversations about Mayor Ford with me. Strange.

There wasn't much more to my time in Melbourne, unfortunately. I went to a recommended Mexican restaurant and discovered what Horchata was, then took a cab back to the Space Hotel hostel where I was staying.

Two ads at the Perth airport bathroom:

1.  Did you know the emergency number in Australia isn't 911, but 000. If you call 911, a kangaroo will come and kick you in the face. Really. Not even joking. What? You don't believe me? Dial it, then. But then have 000 on speed dial. But not 001 – that's for pizza. And 007 is for spies.

2. Aussies want you to get laid on holiday. I will tell you I'm not seeking that out, but good on the government for wanting to increase its population. It's already 22.6 million, let's make it 22.7, people. Get busy.

Can't wait to see the millions of crab. It really is a wonder.

There's apparently no cell reception there unless you have a Telstra phone, so I'll be out for a while until I get to Sydney on Saturday.

Watch this video in the meantime:

Behind the scenes of the red crab migration – Christmas Island 2012 from Parks Australia on Vimeo.

On to the Next Adventure

To Melbourne!

Our media trip officially ended yesterday and Natalie and I spent the night over at the Shangri-La Hotel in Cairns.

Waiting to board a flight to Melbourne for a whirlwind 16 hours in the city. It’ll be great. There’s a Queen Victoria Night Market that just began its annual run Wednesday nights, so I’m looking forward to checking that out.

It will be refreshing to be back in a metropolitan city after spending a week in the Australian bush. At the heart of it, I’m a city girl. I love exploring unknown cities. Even though some may say they’re all the same; they’re not. I hear Melbourne is high on the arts and food scale.

So I will get into the city around 4 p.m., dump my bags off at the Space Hotel and head off into the city.

And walk.

And walk.

And walk.

Best way to get to know a place is to just get lost in it. I have until about 7 a.m. the next morning before I need to be at the airport to fly to Perth and then to ChristmasIsland. Yes, the crabs! Looking at pictures on Facebook, it looks like they’re migrating already. Prime pinchy viewing.

Some things about the last few days in Queensland:

People are passionate about the things they’re into.

Case in point: We went to a turtle rehabilitation clinic, river cruises, nature walks in the rainforest and a bat hospital. Every one of our guides was 110% emerged into their specialty and research to the point where even someone in our group said, “There’s passion – and then there’s far gone.”

The founder of the bat hospital lambasted the media for spreading the “bad rap” of these creatures, to which they are “cute and cuddly” to her. “What’s a koala bear ever done for the environment? All they do is eat toxic leaves,” she said.

But as our tour guide Stevie pointed out – these bats are now flocking to cities by the hundreds, roosting in fig and mango trees. They shit everywhere, peeling the paint off cars and though rare, do carry a disease that humans can contract. In more rural areas, they eat the fruit and crops off farms.

When I was interviewing Jenny, the bat clinic founder, she was going off on the media for bats’ poor public image, but when I gave her a chance to speak about the benefits of these bats, she didn’t have much to say. If you’re going to invite reporters to your hospital, then shit all over their profession – you should probably have something informative to say that goes against what was previously reported.

That’s just my opinion, though.

The trip to Queensland has been fantastic. We’ve been taken behind the scenes in many cases and given a great overview of Australian wildlife. The group has been decent as well. Everyone's been getting along.

So, here are things I’ve learned:

• Wallabies don’t like to share with others. But moms with joeys in their pouches are quite friendly and will go up to you, unabashed

• Kangaroo meat is quite tender; wallaby meat is tougher than a well-done steak
• Green ants are intimidating to eat, but give off an explosive citrus flavour I’ve never tasted in all the limes and lemons I’ve ever consumed
• Kangaroos can hold off on their pregnancy until there is a better climate (temperature, food), and even pause their pregnancy. Amazing.
• Bats are called “flying foxes”
• Crocodiles are most vulnerable up to the age of six. Other crocs are cannibalistic
• Helmet diving is fun and strange
• I still flounder in open bodies of water
• Pillows shielding your face make you feel better when a giant-ass junebug erratically flies around the room at night
• Always wear SPF45. Always wear bug repellant. Doesn’t matter what time of day
• You have to toss down a spear with great force to piece through a mud crab
• Toads are poisonous; frogs are not
• Don’t touch any plants unless someone knowledgeable of the flora tells you to
• Simon was right – everything in Australia will kill you twice before you even know it! (I kid. Australia is awesome)

32.

The kind people at Rose Gums Wilderness Retreat helped me ring in 32 this morning with sparklers and a buttery muffin.

Endearing way to start the day.

We almost had an "Almost Famous moment" on the bus yesterday as we drove through more rural parts of Australia.

Our vehicle passed by the Rodeo drive-in movie theatre twice on the way to the retreat. I took note they were playing Planes 2 and Thor.

Most of the people on the bus were asleep and then Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" came on in my headphones. And in my head, I pictured us cranking the song like in that movie scene and everyone's singing, "Count the headlights on the highway."

Of course, that was in my head, but it played out nicely.

A lot of things have changed a year to this day. I remember being pretty miserable last year. And now, life is fucking grand. I have so many good things in my life, so many life changes since 365 days ago. All for the better. I would've never thought I'd be in Australia today. So lucky.

I love being 32. I love getting older and the knowledge and experience that comes with it. I'm still so young.

Today, we're going to be doing a rainforest walk and checking out a bat hospital, which I am looking forward to. They call them "flying foxes here."

Yesterday, we went to Granite Gorge Nature Park where we petted lots of wallabies. They weren't too keen on sharing with each other and one bit my palm while desperately grabbing my paper food bag. Still cute, though. Can't be mad at them for too long; they're too cute.

 

Oh, and here's our treehouse that we're staying in.

The Life Aquatic, minus Steve Zissou

Sun columnist Simon Kent warned me that “everything in Australia will kill” me, but I think the part of the itinerary that made me most nervous was being in open water.

We boarded a catamaran at Port Douglas (about 15 mins. from Thala Beach Resort) operated by Quicksilver. This cruise operator brings customers to Agincourt Reef, part of the Great Barrier Reef where they can partake in certified diving, an intro course to diving – or, my choice, if you aren’t very comfortable in water and are clearly not fit for survival – helmet diving.

They call it “ocean walking.”

First, Quicksilver staff ask your group up to the top level of the catamaran and ask you to fill out a medical questionnaire. I felt the process was a bit invasive because they were asking what specific medications people were on and what they were specifically used for openly in front of strangers. It was a bit awkward. Could’ve used a bit more tact, to be honest.

Once approved, you get a wet suit and you get into a thicker wet suit. The Quicksilver folks put a weight belt on you. The helmet itself is a substantial 34 kilos., but feels virtually weightless as you enter the water.

A group of six people will slow make their way down a flight of stairs underwater to a rusty metal platform. From there, three divers and a cameraman begin interacting with you as you’re breathing normally in this glass head bubble and holding onto a rail with one hand.

It’s pretty incredible.

Schools of fish dart towards you and aren’t afraid to get up close and personal. I made friends with a buck-toothed red snapper who, in my opinion, was giving me the stink-eye. But I loved him anyway.

(What is with Australian animals giving me the stink-eye? First crocs, now fish?)

The Quicksilver diver began picking up ocean artifacts, including a freakish-looking red sea cucumber. I didn’t exactly know what to do with it until he grabbed my hand and placed it on this gummy-textured creature.

Ah, OK. You want me to touch it.

And appearing to be in slow motion, he began spinning it around on the tip on his index finger and batted it over to my direction. He did the same thing as he made his way down the assembly line.

The experience lasts roughly 15 mins. or so. There’s embarrassing video of us that I have purchased.

Thoughts of Bill Murray hunting after the Jaguar shark ran through my mind. It really was an incredible thing to hang out with all the colourful fish.

I also tried snorkeling for a bit, but ended up floundering about in the reef, despite having the safety net of a yellow life jacket. Need a bit more help with that one.

Back on land!

Apparently, we’re going to learn how to spear a fish today on an indigenous people’s walk. Oh, those crazy Aussies.

Where the Wild Things Are

Quick post.

Then off to bed.

Hugging a koala bear was like hugging a fatter version of Wampa with much sharper claws.

Wombats are amazing.
 
You don't want to fuck with crocodiles, though their meat is delicious.

Kangaroos are adorable, but they will punch you if you try to hitch a ride in their pouch.

I'll elaborate further soon.

 

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

It's 6 a.m. Thursday (Nov. 21) in Cairns.

Need to check out in an about two hours so we can hug koalas and go to a crocodile farm. I cannot believe this is my life.

I will be turning 32 in four days. But I'm not the only one with a birthday on this trip. Natalie is celebrating her 34th on the 23rd and another girl has a birthday on the 24th and mine follows her the next day. Odd and exciting.

We arrived in Cairns yesterday after a 17.5 hours on two airplanes – a new record, I must say.

Jet-lagged, greasy haired and with non-deodorized armpits, we dumped our bags off and met up with the group to head to Fitzroy Island, located 45 minutes (30 km.) from Cairns. After a scenic ride and a lunch with a tropical view, we headed to the island's Cairns Turtle Rehabilitation Centre.

The organization formed 13 years ago, but it's been here at the island for roughly three. It's a non-profit group run on a few dozen volunteers. They will get calls from rangers for injured or sick turtles found in The Great Barrier Reef and pick them up by boat. From there, volunteers will x-ray the animals and then nurse them back to health, which could take up to two years. Afterwards, on select turtles, they will put a satellite device on them to track where they go, if they survive, to continue the research. Pretty neat. Here's the co-founder Jennie Gilbert with Harry, the baby green sea turtle.

After the centre, we took a hike to Nudey Beach. False advertising. Not a naked person anywhere. Actually, the beach – with its unique white shells and rocks – was named after Captain Nudey. Bet he got eaten alive in middle school.

In the evening after a much-needed shower, we sampled some local Australian fare.

Check out the plate of Australian anti-pasto.

Starting on the left: emu, medium-rare kangaroo, crocodile wontons and smoked salmon with green ants. Being the fat food person I am, I was really pumped for all of it... minus the green ants. The kangaroo was more tender than I expected, the emu was a bit dry, and the crocodile was delicious.

Then I thought, Fuck it. Ant-e up. Momofuku's David Chang was raving about these green ants renowned for their citrus flavour, which I can attest, really does pop in your mouth. I think one of them got stuck in my teeth and it was this overpowering taste of lemon on palette. One slice was enough for me, though.

My choice for the main course was wallaby – baby kangaroo. Much tougher meat than expected, but surprisingly, not as gamey-tasting. Probably wouldn't order it again. It's the last picture on the bottom.

Oh, one more thing. Bats. There are a shitload (this is an appropriate term, trust me) of them on fig and mango trees in Carins. I'm talking about hundreds and hundreds on a single one. Our driver who picked us up from the airport warned us not to walk under these trees. There's something in their feces that make humans and horses ill and can take the paint right off the cars. Apparently, a little boy was killed by the bite of one of these giant things a few years ago. I took some video of them circling the night sky, which I'll upload later.

The Anniversary of the Assassination

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The Qantas plane we were to transfer to for Brisbane Sunday night had a mechanical error and the airline needed to haul some parts in. They put us up in the Hyatt at DFW and paid for our dinner, breakfast and lunch until our rescheduled flight Monday night at 8:30 p.m.

My room had a giant eight-person conference table in the centre, which I thought was cute.

Met Natalie Taylor, an ambassador for AFAR travel magazine who was also travelling from Toronto on this junket.

Because we had a full day to kill in Dallas and we wanted to escape the constant barrage of Rob Ford coverage on CNN, we took a cab into downtown Dallas to check out the preparations for the 50^th anniversary of the JFK assassination.

A 25-min. cab ride later, we were in Dealey Plaza, swarming with reporters speaking to people who wanted to tell their stories about where they were, what they were doing when the president was shot.

CBS News reporter Steve Pickett told us he’d been speaking with a number of people that day.

“It depends on the age,” he said. “People want to see the site where the president lost his life. Most people who aren’t from that era, they’ve heard about it. All these TV shows that are on right now documenting the history.”

“The people that were from that era, it takes them back to a very troubling time,” Pickett explained. “This was very hard on the city that developed a horrible reputation by virtue of the shooting down of a president. Dallas was synonymous with this for a long time.”

However, the most disturbing thing Pickett heard that day was a guy in his truck stopping in front of the infamous grassy knoll near where JFK was shot.

“He said, ‘Should’ve killed the bitch, too,’” Pickett said, rolling his eyes.

Stay classy.

Natalie and I toured the memorial (resembling a giant white stone Lego block) and the JFK Museum.

I was taken aback by the Sixth Floor Museum, the site – formerly the Dallas Book Depository where Lee Harvey Oswald fired three shots from the sixth floor window (or not, according to conspiracy theroists).

The audio tour was emotional and fascinating.

I was not alive during that era, but watching others in the room tear up viewing footage of Walter Cronkite’s announcement Kennedy had been shot struck a chord with me.

There was an Associated Press teletype machine in there. A draft of a news story had the final sentence (which an editor later crossed out):

“The president and his assassin died in the same hospital, perhaps on the same table.”

And I agree with Natalie Manzocco from 24 Hours, who eloquently put it:

“THAT KICKER IS AMAZING. WHY WOULD YOU CUT THAT?”

Outside on the Grassy Knoll, I met Richard Gann, 65.

On Nov. 22, 1963 – the day Kennedy was shot – Gann lived in Denison, a small Texas suburb 70 miles north of Dallas. He was 15.

“I remember it was 12:40 p.m. and my neighbour came to the house, shouting, ‘The president’s been shot!’” he said.

“I was watching all afternoon the coverage on TV. I’ll never forget what I felt. I couldn’t return to school, I was so upset.”

The senior also remarked how impressed he was of the news coverage at the time, especially how reporters were able to publish so much detailed information about Oswald so quickly, in a time when Google and Facebook and other social media tools weren’t available.

It was a quite a special thing being able to share in that experience so close to the 50^th anniversary this Friday.

Two hours before we land in Brisbane. Because Natalie and I are arriving a day late, we’ve got to hit the ground running. That means flying to Cairns, getting picked up, dumping our bags off and taking a connecting ferry to Fitzroy Island. Looking forward to seeing the turtle rehabilitation centre.

That’s the spirit of travel, though. If we weren’t delayed, we would’ve missed out on the JFK stuff, which feels really special. I’m glad things unfolded this way.

Going Down Under. Apparently, there's not enough to eat at home!

Yes, I had to crack at least one Rob Ford joke. Wait, that was two. 

Unintentionally, two! 

Currently at Pearson T3, waiting for flight QF4478 to take me to the depths of Dallas. 

But only for an hour. Then I'll be whisked away to Brisbane, Australia and finally, to Cairns. 

I'm not sure of the total flight time, but I think it's something like 27-30 hours. It's exciting, I've never flown this far and this long before. Hawaii and China don't even compare. Should be interesting. 

Lots of reading material and I intend on catching up on some movies. Dr. Strangelove is first on the list. 

I haven't written in this travel blog for a while and I should've really captured more of my adventures to more local places such as New York, but I think after travelling 30 hours, it's worth at least several blog entries. 

Keep following me for the next two weeks as I write about my travels across Queensland. Will I be eaten alive by crocodiles? Will I be apart of a new wombat/numbat hybrid family? Will I marry Paul Hogan and have a child with him that can only be described as "one of those esthetically pleasing but annoying hybrids?" Who knows what adventures will wait! 

I will be posting on Facebook, Twitter, and of course, National Jennygraphic. 

I've also been told not to mention something about "shrimp on the barbie."