G'day! I'm Chris. I left my home in rural Australia back in 2007 to pursue a life less ordinary.
I specialize in ambitious travel - bucket list worthy journeys such as the Great US Road Trip, the ultimate African safari, and following the length of the Silk Road.
If there’s one thing I can appreciate more than an ice cold beer or a fruity cocktail, it’s an ice cold beer or a fruity cocktail on a sun-drenched beach surrounded by nubile nymphettes wearing just enough to pass as modest.
And less if I play my cards right. Alas, I rarely do.
I’ve had the pleasure of sipping suds underneath coconut palms in Fiji; sneaking a bottle of wine down to a crowded Sydney beach; and slinging mud while downing Mudslides on the windswept shores of the Yellow Sea. But I’ve barely scratched the surfaces of the world’s best beach bars, so feel free to educate me.
#8 – 4 Pines Brewery, Manly, Australia
It’s a short walk from iconic Manly Beach, but I’ll give 4 Pines Brewery the nod as one of my beach bars due to being right by the Manly Wharf where ferries tie up after making the beautiful journey across from Sydney’s Circular Quay.
I’m a sucker for a good boutique beer and the 4 Pines Kolsch ranks amongst my favorites here in Sydney. And with a balcony overlooking the harbour beyond and allowing the warm summer breezes to tussle your hair as you drink, there are few bars in Sydney with a more fetching view.
I’m not just a regular at 4 Pines due to the beer though. The place boasts a pretty bloody stellar (if not pricey) food menu that includes gourmet burgers, a killer ploughman’s platter, and daily specials that come with a pint of the local brew as well.
The mouth-watering selection of beers at 4 Pines Brewery. The Kolsch is a favorite.
Enjoying lunch and beers at 4 Pines Brewery in January 2010
#7 – Tangalooma Bar, Moreton Island, Australia
I’ll preface all of what follows by saying that Tangalooma’s bar doesn’t boast much of a selection and charges prices that would make a Sydneysider grimace for what they do stock.
Tangalooma’s only bar makes the cut not because of the food or the beer or the price, but because its location is second to none. Sitting on the sand of beautiful Moreton Island, the bar is a handful of meters from the beach volleyball court and the crystal clear waters beyond where you’ll spot dolphins at play if you’re lucky.
During my week long visit to Tangalooma I spent a good deal of time (and money) sinking beers out underneath the umbrellas with the other guests and the wonderfully warm and social staff. If your travels do take you to Tangalooma Island Resort (and they should), there are worse ways to spend a lazy afternoon than nursing a beer in the warm sands out from of one of my favorite beach bars.
Sherridin sipping a cider on the beach during my October visit to TangaloomaThe view from the dock as I arrived at Tangalooma. Gorgeous!Ben poses on the beach volleyball court as the sun sets behind him
#6 – The Moody Marlin, Coral Coast, Fiji
The open air cabana at Mango Bay Resort on Fiji’s coral coast was the first of three stops my brothers and I made during our Fijian travels earlier this year. Part restaurant, part bar, part pool hall, and part sometime cinema – the Moody Marlin was the hub of all of our activities during our five night stay at the beautiful (if not disappointingly quiet during our visit) beach-side resort.
Right by the pool and a short walk from the shell-strewn beach, the Moody Marlin’s biggest perks were the presence of Vonu towers and the pretty damn fantastic food the kitchen churned out for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Hell, we liked our time there so much that we’re all headed back there sometime in 2012.
The view of the pool from the Moody Marlin bar
My brothers sipping cocktails at the Moody MarlinLive music to serenade the diners (and drinkers) at the Moody Marlin
#5 – The Entire Beach, Boryeong, South Korea
I swear, I talk more on this about the Boryeong Mud Festival than I do about anything else.
Except maybe sex.
For two weeks every summer the streets, restaurants, convenience stores, and beach of Boryeong transform into one giant bar/night club. Foreigners and Koreans mingle on the mud dampened sands and out in the typhoon conjured breakers while K-Pop bands grace the main stage. Mud wrestling pits, mud slides, and mud painting booths dot the seaside street and every inch of spare floor space in the usually sleepy town is claimed by revelers to sleep off hangovers.
My two visits to the Boryeong Mud Festival stand out as some of my best traveling memories. I can’t recall how much beer, soju, or Mudfest Mudslides (soju mixed with a cookies ‘n cream milkshake in a pouch) I consumed during my six days of drinking, wrestling, and socializing on that stretch of beach.
My friends and I all muddied up for the 2008 Mud Festival. Photo by Crystal Speedie.A crowd of foreigners gather around the main stage at the 2008 Mud Festival. Photo by Crystal Speedie.A pair of foreigners wrestling at the Mud Festival. Photo by Crystal Speedie.
#4 – Thursday Party, Gwangalli Beach, South Korea
The very cool Thursday Party chain boasts bars all over Busan, but my personal favorites are the twin Gwangalli locations that are separated by only a few metres and one troublesome storefront.
Sitting across the road from the beautiful Gwangalli Beach with its view of the stunning Gwangan Bridge, the country’s lack of an open bottle law means that a night of fun inevitably spills out onto the street and across onto the white sandy beach. Fairy lights twinkle overhead and a string of nearby noraebangs, convenience stores, and restaurants (including Mexican food at Fuzzy Navel) ensure the party needn’t exist solely within the smoky confines of the bar.
Electronic darts and beer pong mean there’s more to a night at Thursday Party than simple boozing and striking out with impossibly pretty Koreans, and the staff are all ridiculously nice guys. If there’s one thing I miss more about my life in Busan than anything else, it’s nights out at Thursday Party with my friends Anne, Crystal, Inhee, and Jinho. Good, good times.
Jinho steps up in high stakes electronic dartsGwangan bridge is beautiful when lit up by nightMatt and Kenny step up for some Thursday Party beer pong
#3 – Tea Gardens Hotel, Tea Gardens, Australia
It’s more riverside than beachside, but the Tea Gardens Hotel holds a special place in my heart after my recent road trip to Tea Gardens introduced me to the beautiful little village nestled at the heart of a marine park.
My friends and I had a whale of a time drinking cheap beers (as only country towns can provide) and watching the rugby while interacting with the locals who had filled the town’s only pub for our Saturday night visit.
The nearest beach is a short walk away, but the river itself is bordered by a wonderfully picturesque grassy walkway from which you can spot wild dolphins playing in the waters. It’s a little slice of paradise.
My good friends (including Wayward Traveller) drinking with the locals in Tea GardensMy friends and I drunk and boating behind the Tea Gardens Hotel
#2 – Nameless Cocktail Bar, Sanya, China
My week long visit to Hainan in 2008 was more about the fantastic company than anything else. My friends Brenda, Tracey, and Rebecca made for a spectacularly fun week of red wine with breakfast, cocktails on the beach, and occasional sight-seeing that still stick with me three years on.
We did a lot of drinking at our hotel, but our main site for liberal lashings of libations was a nameless little bamboo bar that sat on the boardwalk that overlooked the stretch of beach we claimed as our own.
We started most mornings stretched out on deck chairs beneath palm umbrellas with all manner of brightly colored but poorly made cocktails while leafing through dog-eared paperbacks and avoiding the lecherous advances of the resident Russian expat who seemed determined to have hsi way with one or all of us.
But probably only the girls. I don’t flatter myself.
We might have had to explain how to make a Rum & Coke, but the service or the quality of the drinks didn’t matter. We were sunning ourselves on China’s most beautiful beach and alternating our cocktail consumption with coconut milk. Life was good.
The aforementioned lecherous RussianMy friend Brenda sipping a cocktail on the beachI sip from a coconut on the beachThe worst cocktail ever. Tasted like mouth-wash.
#1 – Robinson Crusoe Bar, Robinson Crusoe Island, Fiji
My New Year’s in Fiji was a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand we were lazing in hammocks in paradise while drinking ridiculously cheap cocktails, but on the other hand Robinson Crusoe Island Resort was the final stop on my epic Break-Up Tour with my partner of two years.
A short river boat ride from Port Denarau, Robinson Crusoe Island Resort holds the distinction of being my favorite of the five resorts I stayed out during my two and a half week stint in Fiji.
The beach overlooks the sandy ‘courtyard’ around which picnic tables act as the meal hall come dinner time. There’s something to be said for eating traditional Fijian food underneath the stars with the still warm sand underneath your feet.
The bar hosts a good selection of beers and wines as well as a pretty impressive selection of cocktails. I lost count of how many of those bad boys I consumed over the course of three nights (including one crazy cross-dressing New Year’s Eve) on the island, but the sinking feeling I felt when I paid my tab was an indication of a good time.
And racking up a big bill is no mean feat when you consider how cheap the drinks were…
All of the photos below are by Charlotte Mohn.
Some of the groovy people I met while partying on Robinson Crusoe IslandI cut a saucy figure for Robinson Crusoe Island's gender bender New Year's party in 2010.
What about you?
There are countless brilliant beachside bars out there, I’m sure. Despite my love of a drink and my love of the beach, I’ve managed to make it to precious few.
So this is where you come in – where is your favorite beachside bar? Any bars on your beach drinking wishlist? Let me know!
It’s with a bit of sadness and a rueful shake of the head that I read about my traveling friends commenting on how it doesn’t feel like Christmas in Australia. I understand of course that they’re used to snow-storms and roast dinners and chestnuts roasting on an open fire – but to me, Christmas doesn’t feel right when it’s not celebrated in shorts and served up with liberal helpings of king prawns.
And while Australian Christmases still cling (somewhat inexplicably) to the idea of pine trees, reindeer, and a morbidly obese man wearing clothes that would see him keel over from heat-stroke in a matter of moments, there are some uniquely Australian aspects of Christmas that make it feel so special to me.
I commented in my recent post about surviving Christmas abroad that one of the things you need to do is just embrace the ‘weirdness’. You can fight doggedly to hold onto your piping hot meals and your hot cocoa in the 30-something degree Aussie heat, or you can take a few tips from a local and enjoy it as it’s enjoyed across this great, dry continent.
For another look at the Aussie Christmas, take a look at Positive World Travel’s post about Christmas in Australia.
#1 – Christmas lunch, not Christmas dinner
It’s not just the timing of the main Christmas meal that differs, but also the food. While it seems the norm to eat a big meal of roast meat and vegetables to celebrate Christmas in the colder north, the Australian Christmas meal is an entirely more casual affair.
Gone is the roast fresh from the oven. Replaced instead with cold cuts of meat (usually ham and chicken) and the quintessential prawns. My own family table is also often adorned with my Mum’s fantastic seafood salad.
Yummo!
The cool treats don’t stop there. Desserts around the Walker-Bush family table include the usual cookies and cakes as well as salted peanuts, chocolate, cheese & crackers, and my personal favorite – devon lilies.
Delicious devon lilies are a family tradition. Devon, mash potato, and pickles. Delish!
In my house lunch seems to follow a familiar routine every year. Once presents are unwrapped and mid morning naps are had, the womenfolk (comprised of my sister, my mother and, most recently, my brother’s lovely girlfriend) pitch in to prepare the meal. The men, by happy circumstance, don’t seem to feature much in the preparations.
I like this.
My sister and my brother's partner preparing Christmas lunch
Lunch is served up around the big mahogany dining table that acts as a laundry folding station 364 days a year along with Christmas crackers and plenty of ice cold punch, soda, and beer. Crackers are popped, horrendously cliched jokes are read out loud, and flimsy paper crowns are worn.
It is one of the best moments of the year for me, even though every year somebody is grouchy with tiredness and some petty arguing inevitably breaks out.
Still others are proponents of the Christmas BBQ. There are few things more dinky-die Aussie then cooking some snags (sausages) over a few beers while the girls prepare salads to compliment the fresh cooked meat. My own family makes a habit of doing a few BBQs before and after Christmas, but the big day is always a sit down lunch.
#2 – Warm Nights, Bright Lights
I cannot fathom a more relaxing and sublimely humbling experience than what I have made a somewhat private tradition over the years. With nights typically quite warm in the lead up to Christmas in Australia, it’s not a big deal to step out after dark and do a bit of light spotting on foot.
While my family home exists in a village of fifty and doesn’t boast much in the way of displays, my family always does its best to Clark Griswold the house up. My two younger brothers, fit bastards that they are, clamber about the roof like monkeys. I typically oversee from the comfort and safety of the ground, beer in hand.
The boys string Christmas lights along our front gutterI supervise the hanging of Christmas lights with a beer in hand
But that serene moment is one I have all on my own. On the nights leading up to Christmas I’ll go out and I’ll stand in our drive. A good two hundred metres separates our front drive from the barely used road and no man-made light can be seen save the twinkling of fairy lights on our house.
Overhead the stars, and they really need to be seen to be believed, stretch out overhead on a pall of deep blue-black. I’ve gazed admiringly at a lot of starry skies but to my mind, none has ever come close to the view from the mountain-tops above the sleepy little village I grew up in.
I fail to do them justice
In more crowded areas – such as in my new home, Sydney – it’s not uncommon to see families out on foot or in cars to take in the many brilliant light shows on display. While decorating houses is common across the western world, there’s something particularly nice (at least to me) about being able to do it all in a t-shirt and shorts.
And don’t forget the pleasant buzzing of Christmas Beetles (known as June Bugs up north) as they bumble hopelessly against windows and doors. Australian kids have been known to catch the hapless insects, whisper their Christmas wishes, and then send them off into the night sky to carry a message back to Santa.
#3 – Midnight Mass and Carols by Candlelight
I’m not a particularly religious man, it has to be said. While I was Christened and raised as a Catholic, I’ve taken efforts to distance myself from the institution (and all organized religion) since I was old enough to make the call. It’s not that I am an atheist – far from it – but I mistrust groups of men and women who claim to know what the unknowable has in mind for us. It just seems arrogant at best, and self-serving at worst.
But enough of that dross.
The church is a lot less spooky when people are nearby
My one religious indulgence each year is the Christmas Eve mass. The village I grew up in inexplicably boasts three churches, and while only one of them sees regularly masses these days, people of all faiths come together on Christmas Eve to sing carols and hear an always lengthy sermon.
Much like my solitary star-gazing, there’s something enchanting to me about being out with my family underneath the starry sky. Anticipation buzzes in the air despite the fact all but one of my siblings is over 20 years of age now. We’re still big kids at heart. And as the mass draws to a close and the last refrain of a carol echoes off of the high roof of the church, we’re all well aware that it’s time to go home and hit the hay.
Fallon and Jay at the Nelson Carols by Candlelight. Photo by Jay Foo.
This love of carols and the warm nights also brings us to the Carols by Candlelight phenomenon. While Sydney’s Carols by Candlelight and Carols in the Domain are perhaps the best known, many towns across Australia and New Zealand also do these wonderfully festive events. Candlelight, beautiful music, and picnic blankets spread out underneath the stars? Sign me up!
I was lucky enough to stumble across Nelson’s Carols by Candlelight in 2010 as well. You can read more about that in my entry about Christmas in New Zealand.
#4 – Swimming Weather!
Keep your snow fights and sledding. I’ll save my awkward ice skating for the winter.
Christmas in Australia takes place (gasp) in summer and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once Christmas lunches have been finished and wrapping paper has been piled into a corner, the real business of enjoying the usually bright summer day comes about. Whether they’re on the sun drenched beaches or simply heading out to the family pool, Aussies have a fascination with water that seems unmatched by any other country in the world.
I remember being honestly shocked when American friends admitted to have never having seen the ocean or, worse, not being able to swim. I daresay I was dragged out into the breakers by my father well before I could even walk.
My family home is about three and a half hours from the coast, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get out and get wet. Christmas 2009 saw one of the gifts being a large above ground pool and my brothers and I made good use of it.
I man-handle my brother in the pool. Christmas 2009.
For those not lucky enough to have water nearby (and even a farmer’s dam will do) – staying cool requires an icy beer and the air-conditioner. And that’s an option not entirely without its charms…
In Sydney, thousands of expats crowd onto iconic Bondi Beach to celebrate Christmas with beach cricket, far too much beer, and plenty of fish and chips. I’d love to do the same someday.
#5 – Random Aussie Touches
In a lot of ways, Christmas in Australia isn’t so different to anywhere else in the world. We sing (mostly) the same carols, we give gifts, and we decorate our houses. We still string tinsel about and we still spend entirely too much money on presents.
But there are a few quaint Aussie touches that I find endearing. Take the song Six White Boomers (see below), for example…
Same Same, but Different
Christmas in Australia is, more than anything else, a time for family. I think a big part of my traveling friends not feeling very ‘Christmassy’ come December 25th is being apart from the ones they love. I know that my Christmas in South Korea and my Christmas in New Zealand both felt a little less festive because I wasn’t around my goofy brothers, my adorable younger brother, my sometimes bossy sister, my Dad and his obsession with ensuring we have entirely too much food, and my generous to a fault mother.
I tap out this entry from the floor of a friend’s living room knowing that in about five hours time I’ll be in a car and headed towards the family home. And while this year’s weather tends more towards the English than the Australian, I’m still very much looking forward to spending some time with my family.
I’m looking forward to spending Christmas Eve in the kitchen helping as best I can. I’m determined to make Snickerdoodle Cupcakes this year to go with my usual contribution of egg nog.
I’m looking forward to Christmas Eve Mass followed by the now traditional viewing of Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. Looking forward to piling presents underneath the tree and waking at the crack of dawn to open them.
Looking forward to bacon and eggs for breakfast and the big Christmas lunch. To being too tired and full to move on Christmas night and subsisting on leftovers on Boxing Day.
As I grow older and it gets harder and harder to get everybody back together in the one place, it’s these Christmases at home that bring us all together. Despite most of us being in our twenties, we’re still very much children when the big day rolls around. It’s a nice change from worrying about bills and budgeting.
The haul in 2009. Yes, the presents actually spill out of the shot.
Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope yours is every bit as wonderful as mine looks to be.
And now that I’ve shared my family traditions with you, I’d love to read about yours. What makes Christmas special for your family?
It’s a strange thing, that first Christmas away from home.
While I realize that not everybody is lucky enough to have a family as close-knit as mine and may not revert to their five-year-old self come December 25th every year, I’m sure anybody who has been abroad for the big day can relate to feelings of loneliness, homesickness, and a substantial diminishing of the magic that makes Christmas my favorite time of the year.
In December of 2007 I found myself alone for the festive season I embarked on the first of my two years living and working in South Korea as an ESL teacher. And while Gwangju would come to feel more like home to me than any place had before (or has since), my first month in a strange new land was full of challenges that were made all the harder by the fact I would be away from my wonderful family for my favorite day of the year.
Don’t be this guy. Christmas away from home can be fun!
While I look back at Christmas of 2007 and remember what a difficult time it was for me, I also look back at it as an immensely character building experience.
In a lot of ways, I didn’t really grow up until I took those first tentative steps out of the support network my family had always provided for me. While I had briefly moved to Newcastle after university to make a life for myself, a few personal defeats there had seen me retreat back to my home-town with my tail between my legs.
I’d spent the 18 months prior to heading to South Korea working a check-out in my home town and relying on my family for pretty much everything. It wasn’t a particularly glamorous life for a 23-year-old.
So while I still remember being on the verge of tears upon realizing my PC wouldn’t be working on Christmas morning for me to Skype with the family, I also remember that later that day I would be dragged out to Outback Steakhouse for Christmas dinner by relative strangers who would become good friends and constant features in my life for my next two years in Korea.
Yeah, Christmas away from home can be hard, but I found a few ways to make it a little bearable. I thought I’d share those with you.
#1 – The power of Christmas music
Whether you’re a fan of Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You or a traditionalist who finds O Holy Night to be the pick of the litter, there’s no debating that Christmas carols have a wonderful way of capturing the spirit of the season and main-lining Christmas cheer into your system.
While my Spartan Korean apartment didn’t feel a whole lot like home, a bit of Josh Groban’s Noel mixed with the soundtracks from movies such as Home Alone and Love, Actually allowed me to drown out the constant traffic and bickering Korean couples and pretend I was in a place where Christmas meant a little something.
The always cheerful Sunny rocking my Christmas hat
But I went one better. I used my ESL teaching as an opportunity to spread a little Christmas cheer as well.
When one of my older classes – all boys in their early teens – expressed an interest in learning about Christmas, I ran with it.
“What Christmas song would you like to learn?” I asked as I handed out a list of names and flicked the CD player on. I eagerly anticipated hearing what the boys would want to sing.
Jingle bells? Nope.
White Christmas? No chance.
Santa Claus is Coming to Town? Get out of here!
No, the boys settled upon the manliest song in human history. I talk, of course, of Kylie Minogue’s rendition of Santa Baby.
To be fair, Korean teenagers aren’t exactly the epitome of manliness to begin with. None of them had yet had their voices break and their choices of brightly colored sweaters were more Bill Cosby than Justin Timberlake. But the six of them standing together and chirping out the innuendo laden song was too much.
I had to duck out of the room to laugh along with my co-worker.
To their credit, the boys really ran with it. They not only sang it passably well, but one of them conjured up a few moves from a Wonder Girls clip that would have been provocative had they been performed by a girl. A boy saucily winking after asking Santa for a ring? Hilarity.
Seeing the enjoyment the kids got out of their rendition of the song was great though. I may have chuckled about it, but they loved hamming it up. While other classes made Christmas cards or spoke about Christmas in Korea, those six boys rocked the hell out of a less orthodox Christmas carol and put a smile on my dial at the same time.
Winning.
#2 – Decorations and Familiar Food
One of the saving graces of my first Christmas abroad was the unending generosity of my mother. I’d always appreciated how much my mother did for me, but that first Christmas abroad saw her spend an inordinate amount of money on making sure I had the comforts from home.
Not one, not two, but four care packages arrived over the weeks leading into Christmas. While I may have been most excited about the two full of carefully wrapped presents, I definitely appreciated the ones labeled ‘food’ and ‘decorations’.
Before too long my spacious but characterless apartment had tinsel hanging above the window, a wreath on the door, a miniature Christmas tree balanced precariously atop the TV, and a store-bought fibre-optically lit Christmas tree blinking merrily in the space I’d later fill with a treadmill.
My humble tree is nearly dwarfed by the mountain of gifts and food my mother sent
While I didn’t have any formal Christmas dinner, I ate like a king leading into the holiday. Shortbread, Christmas pudding, Roses chocolates, custard, candy canes, and chocolate coins became a regular part of my pre-Christmas diet.
Hence the need for that treadmill I mentioned…
It wasn’t the same as having my family around. It wasn’t quite so good as sipping ice-cold egg nog while watching Kiss Kiss Bang Bang with my brothers or nibbling on fresh made devon lilies at dawn as we waited for my parents to stumble bleary eyed out of their room.
But it was a good deal more festive than Paris Baguette bought pastries, corner store kimbap, and 7-11 sandwiches. It turned my new house into something resembling a home and long after the decorations came down, I still felt as if the space was mine.
I’m not sure how long it would have taken had I not spent that Christmas there.
#3 – Find Fellow Expats
Unless you’ve opted to spend your festive season camping under the stars in Mongolia or sailing around the world on your lonesome, chances are you’re not the only foreigner feeling a little homesick over the holidays. As Breakaway Backpacker said in his recent entry about Thanksgiving abroad, spending the holiday with other expats is a great way to shake off the blues and make new friends in the process.
I’d been in Korea all of a month by the time Christmas rolled around and despite the best efforts of a former high school classmate to introduce me into the social scene, I’d not yet become the fixture of the Gwangju night-life that I would later in my time there.
But I was lucky enough to have met a few people and they came through for me on what had been a rough day.
Kirk and I enjoying some Christmas Eve beers
I’d spent the day on the verge of complete breakdown after my computer’s death prevented me from the planned Skype video Christmas party my parents and I had planned. The lack of computer also meant I wouldn’t be able to play the games my mother had sent me as gifts.
I hated that the rest of Korea seemed to go on as if it were just another day, even though I understood that the holiday held little cultural or religious significance for the locals. I hated that while my family were having Christmas lunch and enjoying one another’s company, I was watching the Shrek Christmas Special in a smoky PC room and nibbling disinterestedly at one of the ‘ham croissants’ I was such a big fan of.
So when Kirk (a fellow Aussie) called to invite me out with a few of his friends for Christmas dinner, I was understandably excited. I pulled on my new sweater, snatched up the already faded piece of paper with my address on it, and rushed out to flag a taxi and ride to the Gwangju Bus Terminal.
Outback may not be everybody’s cup of tea for Christmas, but Brodie takes particular offense.
I’ll always remember that night fondly. Not because the food at Outback was particularly good, but because it marked my first step into forging a new life for myself. As I reminisced about Australia with Kirk, flirted with cute-as-a-button joy, and laughed out loud with the irrepressible Liz – I realized that I’d survived my first month abroad and I’d managed to make some new friends in the process.
Over the coming months I’d spend more and more time with that group of people. We’d have board game nights and mid-week drinking sessions. We’d go on road trips together and I’d even make out with one of them somewhere down the line.
And no, it wasn’t Kirk…
But spending the day with people who were in the same position as me helped immensely. It took my mind off of the self pity and the sadness and pushed me into new social circles. My two years in Korea were made immensely more enjoyable as a result of Kirk’s phone call that day.
Thanks, mate.
#4 – Embrace the Strangeness
Christmas in another country isn’t going to be exactly as you celebrated it at home. That’s not a bad thing.
For me, Christmas had almost always taken place on stinking hot days. Christmas Day meant running underneath sprinklers, lounging in front of the air-con, or wrestling in the pool with my brothers. And while it wouldn’t snow until a few days after Christmas, it was certainly a different experience to battle icy paths and freezing cold in the lead-up to December 25th.
My students wolf down the snacks I bought them for a Christmas party
I might have found doing Christmas dinner at an Outback Steakhouse or buying a pre-decorated Christmas tree for 25,000 won ($20 Australian) in a supermarket strange, but when in Rome…
At the time it all felt like some pale imitation of my favorite holiday, but hindsight brings some much-needed perspective. I’ll always prefer to spend my Christmases at home with the family, but there was a certain charm to being out in the big bad world on my own and seeing Christmas through new eyes is an experience I am glad I had.
My White Christmas came a few days late
Your tips?
Have you ever spent a Christmas away from home? How did you make the day special?
An awkward kid who has never picked up a football in his life watches on with his entire family as the Newcastle Knights snatch a dramatic 22-16 win against the heavily favored Manly Sea Eagles in the 1997 ARL Grand Final.
Prior to that day I hadn’t known the name of a single player in the squad, but I shouted myself hoarse at that television and fell in love with the better version of rugby that day.
Posing after the Newcastle Knights beat the South Sydney Rabbitohs in 2005
November 16th, 2005 – Newcastle
John Aloisi’s strike sails past the out-stretched hands of Uruguay’s Fabio Carini to send Australia to their first FIFA World Cup in 32 years.
In the years leading up to the triumph, I’d told friends that football was ‘fine to play, but boring to watch’.
But I’d never wept tears of joy at a sport before that day, and I only have once since. I’ve considered myself a fan of the beautiful game ever since that day.
December 8th, 2011 – Sydney Entertainment Centre
Big Julian Khazzouh steps up to the free throw line. The clock has stopped and the Sydney Kings are two points behind the Adelaide 36ers. Two points to push it in to overtime.
The game has been too and fro. For all of their attacking fluency and tenacity, the Kings defense has leaked points in response to every point they could post. The lead had been Adelaide’s for the first three quarters and, after briefly falling behind in the fourth, the South Australian team had stormed back into the lead.
Khazzouh, who I’d later share a table with at the Yardhouse over post game beers, coolly slots the first point home. It’s 99 – 100.
I shouldn’t be as worked up as I am. After all, I’d never cared about basketball prior to a few weeks earlier.
But worked up I am. My palms are sweating and my heart is racing. Khazzouh shoots…
This is not Julian Khazzouh. It's not even a Sydney player. It's just the only shot I have of somebody shooting.
and nails it. It’s 100 all and we’re headed into overtime.
And just like Aloisi’s goal and Darren Albert’s try, that basket changed something in me. I was no longer ambivalent to the goings on of the sport – I had a team and I’d seen them triumph when triumph had seemed impossible.
The mascot, cheerleaders, and dancers all celebrate the win
A tad dramatic?
Maybe it is a bit dramatic to say it, but those defining moments in sport are what makes it such a big part of so many people’s lives. In a world where your biggest triumph of the week might be saying no to a slice of cake in the office or finishing a particularly challenging level of Angry Birds, the vicarious triumphs we take from our sporting heroes mean a lot.
And, for me at least, seeing a team win when victory seems almost impossible is the greatest feeling of all. In the grand scope of things, Sydney’s overtime win over Adelaide didn’t mean a lot. It took place in round ten of a twenty five round season against a side of no real consequence in the NBL standings.
One of the Kings takes the rock up court on a counter-attacking raid
But to see it happen and to feed on the energy of the crowd… that’s what draws people to their favorite sports. That’s why we go out rain, hail, or shine to see these modern day gladiators do the things we daydreamed about doing as children. I may never have had any ambitions of being a basketballer as a kid, but I don’t doubt there was somebody out in the crowd who saw a little of their childhood ambitions made flesh as Jerai Grant nailed three dunks in short order or Aaron ‘the beast’ Bruce worked tirelessly to keep his side in the game.
A visitor to Sydney might not have catching a game of the NBL high on their list of sporting priorities. After all – the Australian pastimes of Aussie Rules, rugby league, rugby union, and cricket are all on offer. Even football (soccer) boasts a greater cultural significance on Australian soil.
But like I said after my first visit to the King Dome, there’s something altogether more involving about live basketball. It’s the way the crowd all share a smaller space. It’s the way the mascot high fives fans and the way the entertainment almost universally involves the crowd.
And given the dire start to summer Sydney has had, it’s the way the sport is played in the warmth and dry of the Sydney Entertainment Centre. It ‘ain’t too expensive either.
Bowled! The Lion takes audience participation to strange new places.
(Almost) Courtside
The night had begun innocuously enough. My work had again provided me with a free ticket to the game and I joined up with my good friend Anthony (from the Art of Conversations) and his girlfriend to head to the game. But as Anthony and Nicole were ushered towards their corporate box seats, a funny thing happened. I was waved along with them.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I put my head down and followed as my suited friend confidently took up his seat within shouting distance of the Sydney Kings’ owner. It was enough to make me wish I hadn’t worn khakis and a t-shirt to the affair.
And so it was that I somehow got to sit almost court side for the game. Rubbing shoulders with champagne drinking, $60 pizza eating folk while my stomach wished I’d packed a little something more into my backpack than a crushed Coles brand muesli bar.
It was a different experience altogether to my previous visit. I was close enough to hear the players disputing a call or urging their team-mates on. Close enough to reach out and high five The Lion if I so desired. It was, cliché though it may be to say it, like being in the game. Or as close as I’ll ever come.
The Lion - best mascot in the NBL by a country mile
I won’t be writing about the Sydney Kings or the NBL in here much more, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be attending more games or cheering any less. This is a travel blog and while there’s certainly a place for sport in my travels, I don’t want to choke this site up with too much parochial stuff.
But if you’ve ever fallen in love with a sport or a team, I’d love to hear the story. Have you found a team of your own on foreign soil that you came to cheer for?
Looking for the bucket list? Just click here and skip the intro!
The idea of a bucket list is a pretty common one among travel bloggers. A few of my favorite blogs – including Bucket List Nation and Veni Vidi Vici – focus very specifically on the idea of ticking things off of a bucket list.
I’ve long wanted to put one of my own together, but like chasing my travel dreams, I’ve always found excuses not to do it.
There’ll always be plenty of time to do it later, I’d assure myself.
Time is a funny thing. It stretches out before you and it feels infinite.
We wish it away while we sit at our desk and clock-watch. We waste it on people who aren’t deserving of it. We piss it up against a wall as we play video games or stare blankly at reality TV we aren’t really interested in. We drink it away in the same bars week after week. We waste it on buses. We sleep in and let entire mornings pass us by.
And then we get a wake-up call and suddenly that time that seemed so limitless feels so much smaller.
The truth is, I’m dying.
Here lies Chris. May he rest in peace.
We all are.
Some of us may have less time than others, but none of us is immortal. One day all of us – travelers and real lifers alike – will die.
When that last breath is drawn and your eyes blink closed one final time, do you think you’ll look back fondly upon the countless hours spent in offices? Will you hold warm memories of long days or weeks spent glued in front of your computer’s monitor? Will you smile at recollections of grocery shopping and bathroom cleaning and waiting in line for a train ticket to a place you didn’t really want to be?
Maybe you will. Maybe you’re reading this and the idea of a stable life fills you with a sense of immense warmth and security. Maybe the idea of owning your own home and establishing a career and raising 2.5 rugrats before retiring to relative comfort is one which holds great appeal to you.
To me, at least right now, it sounds like a prison. White washed walls designed to keep you penned in. Phone contracts and workplace agreements that lock you in as a willing participant in the God awful rat race that churns senselessly around us while we watch our lives wither and die on the vine.
I’m not sure if there is a God. I don’t claim to have those answers.
I believe that if there was a God who put us on this earth, he didn’t do it so we could hand in reports and buy iPads. He didn’t do it so we could spend 48 weeks a year counting down to the next opportunity we had to be somewhere other than work.
We get just this one chance to live our lives, and so many of us are wasting it being a part of a vast machine that was not designed with us in mind. It’s a great, all consuming thing that we all stumble into once we graduate college and so few of us ever think to look for a way out of it.
Nothing scares me more than looking back at fifty or sixty or seventy and wishing I’d done more with the things I had. I turned 28 two weeks ago and there’s still time for me to live out the moments I daydream about, but I’ve wasted too many years making excuses and putting it off.
A much younger (and fatter) Aussie on the Road. A week before my first trip abroad.
I didn’t set foot onto a plane until I was twenty three years old. I spent five years after high school treading water and trying to make sense of the mess of bills and expectations and demands that make up the real world.
I read all of my favorite bloggers and I see them out living life as it was meant to be lived. They’re using their eyes to take in unfamiliar vistas rather than stare listlessly at their computer screens. They’re kissing strange new lips. They try new foods, make new friends, and soak in new experiences.
And I envy them.
I like my job, I really do, but I don’t love my job. Is that even possible?
All I know is that I take almost as much joy out of sharing my experiences with you as I do from actually living them. And I’m collecting precious few new experiences answering phones and living for weekends that rarely involve more than a drunk night and a hangover chaser.
And so it was that I put together this bucket list. This list of two hundred three hundred odd things that I’d like to do before it’s time to call it a day.
Some of them are cliches and others hold a sort of cheesy romantic significance. Some are silly sexual ones and others are life experiences that I feel like a guy should have.
But all of them, I hope, are within my reach. Maybe not right away and maybe not cheaply, but they’re all things I can someday hope to check off the list.
And even if I don’t get through all of them – I can imagine it will be one hell of a ride trying.
The Bucket List
The list appears in its entirety on my Bucket List page, but below you’ll find it broken up into rough groups based on themes. They are:
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