Category: Travel

VagaBondi (2010-03-09)

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It’s good to be homeless when you have good weather and great friends. We’ve been thoroughly enjoying ourselves for the past week here in Bondi, New South Whales, Australia. We were a bit over prepared for a moderate climate and an approaching fall, with wet suits and a few long sleeved shirts. But they have proven to be utterly superfluous as we endure day after day of sunny, high 70s (I still can’t handle Celsius), and board short appropriate water temps. And despite my sarcasm I’m by no meanings complaining.

IMG_6100 On top of the wonderful weather our hosts, the Browners (Jen’s Father’s Father’s Brother’s Son & Family, no joke) have been spoiling us rotten, with meal after delicious meal, tours of the city and local neighborhood, rides to the beach, and so on. Even their dogs, Bella and Mitzy, are friendly. Bondi, where they live, sports a famous surf spot, a great beach, miles of walking paths, and blocks of restaurants and shops. We really couldn’t have asked for a better place to stay. Bondi also plays host to numerous backpackers and vacationers (hence the title of this post) some of whom we’ve rubbed elbows with in the local German beer house.

Boredom is nowhere to be found, and three weeks now seems much too short a time for a visit, as our days fill up with plans for trips to the Blue Mountains, beaches north of Sydney, visits with other relatives in the area, fishing, surfing, and trips to the zoo. And on top of that I’ve been filling every spare moment practicing playing the guitar I was happy to find lying around the house (my fingers have the calluses to prove it).

Speaking of surfing, I can’t write a first post from Bondi without a report. The beach is quite a bit better than I expected, although theIMG_6037 line-up is at least as crowded as people warned, and the manners of the surfers (if you’d call some of the amateurs out there surfers) are appalling.  Despite this, the surf is clean, chop minimal (when you get out on early on a light wind day), lines are long enough to take a moment and enjoy the ride, and the waves have enough power to keep it thrilling. It’s the best beach/sandbar break I’ve surfed, although this is only the third (Bolinas and Pacifica being the other two). It’s probably comparable to some of the similarly crowded Southern California breaks.

The Cost of Letting Go (2010-03-06)

When going through major life changes it often feels like something is pulling me in a new direction as much as I am moving there myself. The adventure we have just embarked on is no different. When I think to myself “you know what I’d like to do right now…” my next thought is I should stop wishing I was doing that thing, and I should just go do it. Once I’ve made this mental commitment the rest just follows irresistibly, like gravity throttling a base jumper earthward once he’s finally made the leap.

The ride isn’t free however, and along the way there are obstacles, intense stress, hesitancy, and worry along the way. That is the cost of the adrenaline rush that is plunging head long in a new direction, rather than coasting along in the rut one occasionally finds oneself in. For me that rut was a job I wasn’t excited about, at a company I didn’t choose, with people who weren’t challenging me (my co-conspirators excepted, you know who you are). And my life change was abandoning my career, relinquishing many of my possessions and my home (rented, as it was), and embarking on an adventure, the likes of which is only a fantasy for many. And boy has it been a ride so far.

IMG_0119 As with all things, it was impossible to get the work done soon enough. Jobs always seem to fill all the available time, don’t they. I waited far to long to put things on craigslist, to sort through old boxes, and to weed out old clothes, electronics, and books that could be given away. And so the days leading up to our departure turned into a maddeningly stressful blur of sleep deprived days and nights packing, selling, moving, and giving away. Until finally, a day after we were supposed to be out of our old apartment, and the day of our departure for Australia, we were done. Our possession were sold, given away, or stored. Our bags were packed. We’d received our final vaccinations and visas. We’d made it through the seemingly interminable free fall, and our shoot had opened. What a rush, and a relief.