Shamefully it’s been more than one year since my last post. That is mostly due to the fact that I’ve been home, in Pittsburgh, working towards my Masters in Entertainment Technology at Carnegie Mellon. Now, I am proud to say, I’m back on the traveling bandwagon!
I’m spending the next 4 months in Barcelona, Spain working on a project for my graduate program AND finding adventures with 3 of the craziest people I know– Rebecca, Matt, and Dave (not pictured below).
Moomba is one of the largest free community festivals in Australia. In Melbourne, it’s held annually over the labour day long weekend in March along the Yarra river. A co-worker told me the name has aboriginal origins meaning ‘enjoy life’. According to Wikepedia (very reliable I know, but I think they might be right on this one):
The official translation is “let’s get together and have fun.”
In 1981 Barry Blake in his Australian Aboriginal Languages spelled out the etymology in more detail:
Undoubtedly the most unfortunate choice of a proper name from Aboriginal sources was made in Melbourne when the city fathers chose to name the city’s annual festival ‘Moomba’. The name is supposed to mean ‘Let’s get together and have fun’, though one wonders how anyone could be naive enough to believe that all this can be expressed in two syllables. In fact ‘moom’ (mum) means ‘buttocks’ or ‘anus’ in various Victorian languages and ‘ba’ is a suffix that can mean ‘at’, ‘in’ or ‘on’. Presumably someone has tried to render ‘up your bum’ in the vernacular.
Furthermore, in 1969, Luise Hercus provided the following definition for ‘mum’ (i.e., ‘moom’) in The Languages of Victoria:
Mum: bottom, rump. The jocular Healesville expression
The whole thing is basically an enjoyable, family-fun summer festival.
There are games and prizes ,
rides ,
bike ramps (?) ,
music ,
all sorts of good food ,
and a parade to round it all off
The only downside to this long weekend of festivities was the aforementioned ‘end of the world’ storm we got in the middle of it. Not the best time to have unsteady tents and temporary attractions set up along the river…
I love storms. Nothing beats a good rainstorm…as long as everyone you love is safe and sound and not on the road rushing to see your championship game or dance performance (I watch too many movies). But when you’re stuck in a foreign country and don’t have to worry about driving, a good storm is A.MAZING. Example–typhoon day in Taiwan. Wow.
So anyway, they say Melbourne has some of the craziest weather patterns–4 seasons in one day. I never really believed that before one fateful Saturday.
The day started with summer–nice and sunny and warm.
Then the clouds came in, bringing in a crisp fall, with a little rain. The roads became rivers, coming up to car windows. It shut down public transport all across the city, and created endless entertainment as a convenient waterpark.
Then winter, with hail the size of golf balls, that piled up and became a nice icy slush. The hail smashed holes in car windows and really hurt as it came pelleting towards your head.
Then enter spring–the clouds parted, the sun came back out slowly and the day ended much like it began.
For any of you tennis fans out there, you might be aware that there is a small little event going on in Melbourne at the moment called…the Australian Open. It goes on for two weeks in January and completely fills the city with people from all over the world. Unfortunately for me, I’ve been trying to find a new place to live in the midst of all this, and it has been proving quite difficult.
Anyway, my friend Aine had one of her friends coming in from Perth for the games, so she was planning on going to one day and since I’ve never seen a professional tennis game (and what better way to start than the Aussie Open), I decided to tag along. So Aine and I got ground passes for about $30, which got us in all day and we could go to any of the dozen or so show courts and watch as many games as we wanted.
This picture is from outside, but you can see multiple courts set up…and that’s not even the half of it.
There was also live entertainment, food stands, giveaways…basically like a big carnival revolving around tennis. Aine’s friend and her mom got tickets to the indoor courts, which were about $30 more, but they got to see some of the bigger stars. Since I don’t really know anything about tennis, I didn’t feel like I was missing out on much. The only drawback to this whole scheme was that the day we decided to go (the first day of the Open), it was pouring…hailing at times…overcast and cold. Hrumph! That’s Melbourne weather for you! The previous Monday we had temps nearing 120 degrees F, and then it feels like a chilly November. Oy. On top of that, tennis and rain don’t mix very well, since the courts have to be completely dry in order for the game to commence. So maybe the indoor court tickets would have been a good idea…
Oh well, Aine and I stuck it out, under my teeny tiny Taiwanese umbrella (also UV protected from the occasional blaring sum that came out). Since most of the outdoor games were delayed for a bit at the start, we walked around from sheltered area to sheltered area—found the overpriced souvenir items and a giant tennis ball!
And then proceeded to the game with the most famous player we could find: Fernando Gonzalez. Well, when I say ‘game’ I mean we found seats and then watched the court dry for about 45 minutes. I was actually quite entertained watching the water disappear….those tennis courts were made to dry!
Finally the court was deemed worthy to play so out come Fernando Gonzalez (Chile) and his opponent Olivier Rochus (Belgium). Gonzalez was obviously the favorite and had huge sections of the crowd as marked cheer sections. He also got a standing ovation when he changed his shirt halfway through the game.
Like this section where no only did everyone have their own Chilean flag, but they also worked together to frequently display the much larger one. They also chanted a catchy little cheer about a million times throughout the game:
Chi chi chi
le le le
Viva Chile!
Aine and I were singing by the second set in. Poor Olivier had a much weaker collection of fans…but there were two minimally dressed Belgians that never wavered in their support and often tried (tried…never succeeded, but tried) to out cheer the Chileans with a very complex Belgian cheer that no one really followed. Ah well…bless them.
So here’s a bit of the game….2 bits actually. The second clip has a slightly more elongated play time.
My favorite part of the game was fast becoming the ball boys (and one girl). I don’t think they are supposed to be noticed as much I was noticing them…but I mean come on! They’re in hot pink outfits!! Who could ignore that?? I dare you to try. But I watched and tried to figure out their rules and signals and obligations. I think I got a decent hang of it by the end of the 2 hour match. I think I could even strive to be a ball girl one day. Hmm….
Well it started raining before the match could finish up. And Fernando was only 2 games away from winning the final set. But Aine and I were hungry, so it was a good opportunity to leave and explore. So we wound our way over to the overpriced food stalls and got a couple sandwiches and sat down in front of the big outdoor screen that was broadcasting the indoor games. This area would have been quite lovely if all the seats weren’t wet, but it was still reasonably pleasant. The first game was the Maria Sharapova vs.Maria Kirilenko game…a much anticipated event. I have to admit I’ve heard of Sharapova before. This was also the game that Aine’s friend (Andrea) was lucky enough to be watching…all warm and dry inside. After that match, which lasted about 3 or more hours (!) Andrea’s mom and her mom’s friend (who were also inside with her) were going out for a bite to eat and let Aine and I sit in their seats for the second match. This auditorium was about 10 times bigger than the first little court we watched. So I got the best of both worlds! inside and outside at a decent price!
This match was between Kim Clijsters (rhymes with oysters–she’s from Belgium but unfortunately she didn’t have the two dedicated Belgian fans that Rochus did) and Valerie Tetreault (Canada).
Now I don’t know if it was just this match, or if it was because we were inside, but it was much calmer and quieter–no cheering fan sections at all. It was over pretty quickly in comparison–onle about 1 hour. Poor Valerie was quickly recognized as the underdog, but she held her own reasonably well.
Look at that action shot! Go Canada!
Well, she did eventually lose, allowing Clijsters to move on to the next round.
And then it started drizzling again outside, so Aine and I set out to explore the grounds some more. There was a big Heineken bar/tent set up outside with a few big screens dedicated to the bigger games.
There was also some live music and all-around chillaxin going on. The whole thing reminded me of a well organized tailgate party.
So there ya go. Who knew tennis could be so fun?! Sign me up for US Open 2010!
Christmas down under was the second Christmas I’ve spent outside the states…and the first in 24 years that I’ve spent without my family, so for many reasons it was quite different than usual. The other Christmas spent out of country was last year in Taiwan, and I’d have to say it felt a bit more like Christmas there than in Australia. Not that people in Australia don’t celebrate Christmas…on the contrary. It wasn’t so much that it was sunny and hot instead of dark and cold. Its weird…the thing I love most about Christmas is the buildup to it throughout the entire month of December..and that’s what was lacking ‘down under’. There was quite a buildup in Taiwan–decorations everywhere, Christmas music, Christmas cards…and granted not many people celebrated the actual day, but still…there was more of a Christmas feeling in the air. It was quite the opposite here–very little buildup, but it seems everyone celebrated on the day.
There didn’t seem to be as many decorations on the street, although there was a big Christmas tree in the center of town.
But here’s an idea of what the houses looked like along my street:
And this is Christmas Eve! Everyone’s supposed to have Christmas lights up and twinkling!
Luckily I’m staying in the only house on the block that actually does display some Christmas spirit
There were no Christmas songs to be heard in stores or on the radio. There were really no Christmas movies or Christmas specials on TV. No one was wishing anyone a Merry Christmas until Christmas Eve! So, for me at least, it didn’t really feel like Christmas.
BUT…I do have to explain how a typical family celebrates Christmas in Australia.
And we’ll start at 13 Dalgety St.
Christmas Eve consisted of sitting around the Christmas tree and watching carols on TV.
Every year, from mid evening to about midnight, the botanical gardens are filled with people holding candles and watching live singing performances by famous Melbournians. So we sat and watched TV, sang some songs, and got ready for Santa to come. Harrison and I made cookies earlier in the day, specifically for Santa’s enjoyment. We also left the usual glass of milk and a carrot for the reindeer. Finally Harrison was off to bed, so excited for the next morning.
He woke me up at about 6am (the earliest I’ve ever been up on Christmas Day) and we rushed downstairs to see what Santa had left. And joy among joys he left Harrison a cool bike with flames all along it and a bell! He also left an entire sock (huge-ass stocking) filled with goodies.
It really is an experience to watch Christmas day through the eyes of a child. I remember wanting to play with everything I got, all at the same time. It was precious.
Christmas day itself wasn’t as hot as it can be in Melbourne. It started off really overcast and a little chilly–which was fine by me because that meant I could still drink my hot chocolate and cuddle up in a blanket. We were supposed to go the beach, but it really wasn’t nice enough, nor did we have enough time. Some of Darren’s family were coming over for a Christmas lunch, so we had a lot to prepare before they came over.
Darren and Marion preparing a feast
I guess our Christmas feast wasn’t too abnormal–its nothing my family ever has for Christmas. It seemed more like a Thanksgiving meal to me, but it was still pretty good.
There were crayfish and shrimp (not my idea of Christmas dinner, but ok)
I wanted to get a shot of shrimp on the barbie, but unfortunately they never made it there.
Then there was turkey (this one made it on the barbie) and ham, roast potatoes and veggies, stuffing, cranberry sauce, parsnips and carrots. And then plum pudding with custard for dessert.
After lunch everyone went in separate directions. Darren, Marion and Harrison went on their way to a friend’s beach house in southern Australia to surf and build tree houses and drive 4WDs. What a Christmas vacation!
Ah well…the joys of Christmas in a different culture!
Happy Christmas everyone! Hope it is filled with family, friends, food and hot chocolate!
The Queen Victoria Market. Melbourne’s most infamous market–open 5 days a week and full of almost anything you can think of. Most Melbourne residents use the market as a place to buy cheap and great fruits, veggies, meats, breads, and snacks. This is actually where most of our Thanksgiving dinner shopping went down.
Visitors are more prone to the clothing and tourist-like stalls.
You can really find everything here…clothes, food,
Another Thanksgiving in another country that has no concept of the best day on earth. What’s not to love? Family, friends, eating and drinking. And of course being thankful that you can still do all that. So like a good American, I wanted to show some of my international friends what T-day was all about. We didn’t celebrate on a Thursday, we couldn’t watch the Macy’s Day Parade or a football game, but I think we did a damn good job with everything else.
Me and Amber (Canada)
Aine (Ireland) and Rury (spelled phonetically because the Scottish spelling is ridonkulous)
With a little help from my Canadian and Irish friends, we cooked a magnificent feast…turkey (obviously), rosemary garlic mashed potatoes, green beans with caramelized onions, toasted almonds and prosciutto, stuffing, gravy, rolls and butter, apple crisp, chocolate chip cookies, and tons of wine and beer…and vodka…and other beverages that I can’t remember for better or worse.
The whole spread. Turkey’s in the purple dish if you were wondering. Doesn’t look like much, but it well fed about 13 hungry people…with left-overs.
And now a close-up:
Stuffing, turkey, corn, rolls.
Green beans, butter, potatoes and stuffing..mmmm…the best part.
As the head chef, I obviously started drinking and being thankful around 2pm. And with some good timing/cooking advice from mom, everything was going smoothly. The desserts were all made the night before. The potatoes were peeled, cut and ready to be boiled and the green beans were washed. The only slight little bump was trying to figure out the best way to cook the turkey. My apartment wasn’t really…umm…equipped for such major cooking expeditions, so a roasting tray was certainly out of the question.
Seriously, this is how much room I had to work. sheesh!
And anyone who has ever cooked turkey knows it can’t sit on the tray it has to be elevated so the juices can run and water can evaporate up into it…or something along those lines. There was a period of time where I thought I was going to have to make a makeshift tent/roaster/lift with toothpicks and chopsticks. thankfully (not the first time I was thankful that day) we found a baking tray with vents. Yay! That sounds really lame, but I guarantee that if you found yourself in a similar situation you’d be praising the baking tray as well.
If you can tell, they are delicately balancing on a heavy baking tray over a fragile aluminum tin. (Alright, so you might have noticed that its not a whole turkey….but for budgeting backpackers, two pre-boned, pre-stuffed turkey things sounded in a word: Perfect.
And then top off the meal with some incredibly done apple crisp, and there you are.
Couldn’t get any better.
The night was full of dancing, singing, Irish drinking songs (which I am determined to learn before I come home), games, drinking…what a night.
A few Tuesday’s ago, the city of Melbourne shut down for the Melbourne Cup–a day of horseracing, big hats, fancy dress, and lots of booze. Ruth, Kristina, and I, unfortunately did not have tickets to this spectacular event, but we decided to take advantage of the day off work and take a little road trip down the Great Ocean Road which lines part of the southern coast of Australia—approximately Melbourne to Adelaide. Part of our motivation was also that Kristina had a job interview in a small town along the way, so we decided to rent a car, buy some snacks, and we were off for the day!
In order to expedite the process, we took the inland route down to her interview in a town called Timboon, which is near the end of the GOR (great ocean road from here on in).
Timboon really is the definition of a small rinky-dink town. Its MAYBE 2 streets and the biggest thing there is a grocercy store and this distillery/restaurant that Kristina was applying for. But it had a cool name and now no one can say we didn’t go off the beaten path. After a quick stop at the distillery we were off to actually explore the GOR.
Our first stop was London Bridge–a huge rock formation that, well, looks like a huge bridge!
Pretty darn awe-inspiring if you ask me–even on a windy, slightly overcast day!
That would be me getting molested by the wind. Fun times.
Then we headed up the road to ‘the arch’. Well if you ask me, there isn’t too much of a difference between a ‘bridge’ and an ‘arch’ but here ya go:
I guess I’d feel much safer walking across the bridge, since its double the size of the arch, but again, beautiful all the same.
Further still we hit the ‘razorback’. Aptly named if you ask me. It looks like the land was just cut into by a razor.
And then the razors few neighboring friends:
And its position relative to the actual shoreline.
Unfortunately this isn’t my first choice for swimming/snorkeling/diving/surfing/etc, but it sure was nice to look at.
And then the sight that the GOR is most well known for: The 12 Apostles. (although I could only ever count about 10…)
No, this is not the 12 guys yet. We’re just starting to walk down the path. This was the most elaborately signed and organized attraction. The other ones were on the side of the road with a few look out points. This had a visitor’s center, its own big parking lot, a special path…the works.
There’s at least four, looking south. Unless those little guys in the foreground count, which I sure hope not.
Wait…here’s a few more…maybe 6? 7? I think we’re still looking south. There were a few looking north from where we were standing, but I guess they weren’t special enough to photograph. Hmm.
And just in case you underestimated how frickin windy it was…here you go. Wind-tunnel central.
So in conclusion, maybe not the best day to go down the GOR, but hey….neither sun nor cloud can disguise pure beauty.
Another Halloween in another foreign land. Another country that cannot…does not fully appreciate the art of dressing up, whether scary or silly, drinking, playing pranks, eating candy, haunted houses…
Lucky for them I was there…and an equally knowledgeable Canadian, and a few enthusiastic British friends to help set them right. Amber (a friend from work and the aforementioned Canadian) and I obviously felt the need to dress up for the Friday before Halloween. We were invited to a Halloween party at one of our co-workers houses, so that spurred us even more to get some kick-ass, but economical, costumes. So one morning we hit up the Op-shops (thrift stores) and bargain stores. There I found these:
To clarify… that would be mullet wig and a WWF T-shirt. Then the costume started falling in place. I should obviously represent some of the underrepresented but most admirable of my nation–the mullet-sporting, pants-sagging, beer drinking, just plain dirty redneck American. YEEEE–HAAWW. So basically this eventually turned into this:
Yes, yes and yes. I made a beer-utility belt which had two beer cozies attatched for my drinking convenience. I’m sporting the aviators, my pants are well below my butt, I have tatoos–really intimidating ones at that–all up my arm and a cut-off T-shirt. I’m just gonna tell you that I wasn’t really picking up the men that night.
But I did have my brother/half-cousin Billy Bob to keep me company.
Well Billy Bob (Amber) did come from the Mexican side of our inbred family. But we still love him.
That night we went to our friend Gary’s party…we were obviously the best dressed. But there were a few others. Jesus was there, so was Moses…and a bunch of dead people (BOORRRING), some sexy devils, and then some alcoholics…but I don’t think they were in costume.
I’d just like to point out the obvious and awesome similarities between myself and my Tshirt. What a star.
And then if Amber didn’t look sexy enough before…
Who could say no to that?? I mean really!
Since it was a Halloween weekend, and it would be a shame to waste this amazing costume, me and my housemates decided to go out to a bar-sponsored Halloween party on Saturday night. The best part was that I got some well-placed sunburn (not intentionally) earlier in the day, so my costume was even more ‘rednecky’.
So me, 2 Scottish lassies, 2 German girls, a guy from New Zealand, and another Canadian decided to hit the town dressed to the Nines. Which is funny because there was a big horse race earlier in the day and Melbourne has a big horse-racing culture where people get really dressed up…with the big hats and fancy dresses and everything! (very My Fair Lady). So everywhere we went it was either people looking dead and ridiculous, or super fancy.
Anyway, so this was the motley crew that headed to the bar:
Heather (cowgirl), Hannah (dead), Ruth (70s diva), Heather (Gypsie) and my gorgeous/handsome self.
There was also Kristina on my right who was a sexy devil.
and Antony who was again, dead.
So all-in-all I’d have to say we looked pretty good, although the Halloween party was kind of disappointing. But always trying to see the bright side of things, I’m just keeping in mind that I now have a sweet mullet wig forever and ever!
Brighton is a nice little suburb south of the city, about 3 beaches away from my current beachside residence. In all practical aspects its just another pretty beach, except for one outstanding feature…the mulit-colored bathing boxes that line the shores.
They’ve been there for ages, and I think you can rent them out or buy them…not too sure. They all had locks on them as I walked by, but I believe they are just wooden boxes, maybe with shelves or something very basic inside. Nothing fancy like plumbing or lights. So basically their charm remains on the outside.
So there you have it. Brighton Beach Bathing Boxes.
,
,
,
,
,
Kristina on my right who was a sexy devil.
and Antony who was again, dead.
