Australia, Cairns, Scuba

Losing My Scuba Virginity

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The one where I get my PADI Open Water certification; befriend a bunch of backpackers; learn that you can vomit in a regulator; and get my first taste of backpacker accommodation.

Pretty Darn Awesome

The vastness of the Pacific Ocean rises and falls beneath me like the breast of a sleeping woman. Even in a bedroom boasting hot showers, TV, and an iPhone dock I can feel the ebb and flow as the sea churns around the Ocean Quest.

Our triple decker live aboard may be named like a mid 90s sci-fi, but it’s decorated like a 1950s pleasure cruiser. Foreign couples happily snap photos on the sun deck while Ruus and Sjos suck down ice cold cans of VB in the lounge in front of the flat screen and discuss the AFL grand final in Dutch.

Fallon’s asleep in her cot beside me after a long and exhausting day of scuba, snorkeling, and travel. Eighteen or so meters beneath me the Great Barrier Reef goes on as if completely unaware of the sixty or so people drinking, lounging, and chatting above them. Does a clown fish sometimes poke his head out from his anemone home to investigate the strange lights overhead? Do sea turtles or sharks sometimes break the surface of the churning sea to marvel at the harsh coughing of somebody on the smoker’s deck?

Will they someday find a way to pay brief visits to our world? Unlikely, but the image of a turtle family oohing and aahing silently as they observe a pair of drunks fighting is an odd one.

Seasickness and Scuba Do Not Mix

Fallon and I woke at 7am and hurriedly packed up our room so we wouldn’t miss our 7.45 am pick-up. I remember the disinterested glance the cowboy hat wearing German girl I now know as Arlette threw our way as Fallon and I crammed into our seats humming the tune of ‘I’m on a Boat’ by The Lonely Island. Funny how much change a day can make.

Cairns’s unpredictable weather treated us to a downpour as we drove to the marina, but the sun was fairly scorching as we stepped onto the deck for our briefing. I was nervous. Fallon was excited. As life or fate would have it, my role as reluctant participant and her role as gung-ho enthusiast would be reversed by the time we arrived at the reef.

The ride out was choppy. The boat crested waves and found air before crashing back down and showering anybody sunning themselves on the aft deck in a fine salty mist. Sea sicknesses tablets sold at a buck a pop were raking in the cash. While Fallon and Karin (our Swiss training buddy) alternated between rolling their eyes and vomiting, I curled up and fell asleep. Let it not be said that I would not have made a good pirate. I’ve got sea legs to rival the saltiest of swashbucklers.

After ninety minutes we arrived at our dive site and began to prepare. Despite having practiced ad nauseum the day before, we all made mistakes – but the crew were pretty good about helping us out and guiding us to the side of the boat for our giant stride entry. We might have been a lot more nervous had we not all been so concerned with the routine. Inflating and uninflated our BCDs; setting up our weight belts; clearing our regulators; and performing a buddy check make it hard to focus on the fact you’re about to put yourself in a place people weren’t really ever meant to be.

It was overcast and windy – the sky grim and the sea not as welcoming as any if us would have liked, but we gripped the mooring line and began our steady descent to a depth of twelve meters. I arrived at the bottom surprised that I’d managed it. I was kneeling in sand surrounded by coral. Angelfish and a dozen other brightly coloured ocean denizens flitted about me completely disinterested in my presence. Despite our trainers requesting we not stir up the sand, I couldn’t held but reach down and grab a handful of the soft, cool sand and let it filter through my fingers. Looking up, I could see the surface and the silhouetted forms of snorkelers braving the rough waters.

It was then that I noticed that Fallon was not with me. I searched anxiously around me before letting my gaze trail back up the rope. A stray flipper bobbed in the water. About three meters from there, Fallon was being calmed down by our mohawked and heavily tattooed Irish guide. She’d had a panic attack almost as soon as she’d uninflated her BCD for descent.

Mark, our guide, helped her down the rope and soon we were having a leisurely swim through the reef. We were supposed to practice skills, but I think he gave those a miss so Fallon could adjust. It was so serene. All of my worries about breathing correctly and being able to equalize evaporated as we swam around coral beds and posed for photos with a giant clam. I’d like to say we glided, but most of us alternated between kicking too much or not enough. Buoyancy control is, I learned, a skill that you develop over time.

Clowning around with a giant clam

Before I knew it, we were surfacing and the men were told to tow in the women. Fallon threw up as I got her to the boat, so I took off her fins for her and helped her I onto the boat. Her sea-sickness and resultant dehydration were threatening to derail the trip she’d been so excited about.

 

Ruud, Sjos, Arlette, and Karin all checked on Fallon with me in a nice sign of dive team unity. And while Fallon picked me up a plate from the buffet, I spoke with Mark about potentially letting Fallon skip the next dive and make it up later. I’ve got to commend the people at the Deep Sea Diver’s Den. They were really understanding and supportive, and their staff took time out of their own personal time to arrange alternate dives so she could get her certification.

After lunch it was time for dive #2, and I’d have to tackle it alone after Fallon pulled out looking particularly green around the gills. This time we practiced a lot of skills and did a little less sight seeing, which was good for my confidence. Things like clearing our masks after letting water into them; removing our weight belts and BCDs in the water; and performing a buddy assisted emergency ascent.

After surfacing and drying off, it was time for our transfer to the overnight boat. We were greeted in the stately dining room with apple tarts and then shown to our rooms. Then it was time for the third and final dive of the day. With Fallon needing to make a dive up and being behind, they made her sit the dive out and I was again buddyless. She apologized a lot, but it wasn’t her fault so I wasn’t bothered.

Making New Friends

The water at the new site (coral garden) was particularly rough as we trailed a line alongside the boat. My goggles were bumped loose continuously and I was battered against the side of the boat before we reached the mooring line and performed a descent without using the rope for purchase.

My buoyancy was all wrong though, and I kept bobbing to the surface until our new guide, Adam, provided me with an additional weight. We descended to twelve meters and again practiced skills such as the oral inflate pendulum, the full mask clear, and a little compass work.

Then it was a free swim through coral canyons again. We trailed an absolutely beautiful sea turtle for a while, but reef sharks continued to be elusive. I was envious of Adam’s control. He moved through seemingly tight spaces between banks of coral with apparent ease while I had to continually check my fins to make sure I wasn’t battering a little Nemo or Dory.

Fallon's giant stride is pretty damned giant

After we emerged and showered, Fallon went in for a guided dive. It felt amazing to be dry and clean after a day of being wet and salty. Our night was suitably relaxing. We shared roast dinner with Chun (Peter) from Hong Kong and had a few beers over dessert with Peter, Karin (Switzerland), Arlette (Germany), Ruud, and Sjos (both Holland). It was a lot of fun shooting the breeze with people from such varied backgrounds. Peter regaled us with tales of playing rugby as a child in Hong Kong; the Dutch boys advised us that Holland is not at all like Amsterdam, and Fallon and I shocked and amazed them with stories of various Korean oddities and quirks.

We were both in bed and fast asleep by 9pm – which has to be some kind of post high school record for me. But we’d had a full day of swimming and lugging around scuba tanks on our backs, and scuba is a lot more tiring than the serene movements might make it appear.

White Lies

Ten years ago, almost to the day, a sixteen year old Chris came out to the reef with his family. Our holiday in Queensland was coming to an end after two weeks in Mooloolaba and one in Townsville, and our last big treat was to snorkel on the reef.

One of my favorite boasts about being Australian has been to recount that day, but embellish by saying I had scuba dived instead. In truth, the offer had been there, but I had balked at the idea and contented myself with paddling gamely around on the surface and occasionally duck diving a meter or so to inspect a particularly interesting fish.

Was the reef as vibrantly colored as I now remember, or have time and youthful imagination brightened it’s red and blues to colors not known in nature? It’s hard to say, but this same reef is not the one I remember. It’s beautiful in a far more real way – in contrast to the Pixar fueled images that so many might have.

But I’ve drifted off topic. For the last ten years, I’ve told people that I scuba dived that day. Now, much older and wiser, I can say it without a word of bombast or exaggeration. Moreover, I’m a certified scuba diver – able to dive anywhere in the world. And while I’m some way off of being able to investigate wrecks or plunge the deepest depths – there’s an awful lot of the world that has suddenly become accessible to me.

Shelly Beach, where two years ago I spent my twenty fifth birthday drinking, barbecuing, and swimming – suddenly gained a previously unknown world of sting rays, sharks, and fish for me to encounter.

I love this. I love the sense of calm you get when the tumultuous surface dwindles above you and there’s only the sound of your breathing and the low hum of ocean.

And you’re flying above beautiful mountains of coral and seaweed in which thousands of species so few get to encounter are going about their daily lives. There are vast, soft beds of sand upon which you can settle and gaze about you in wonder. Solemn, silent awe.

Our last dive was hard. With breakfast still heavy in our bellies, we took our last giant stride of the weekend and practiced our CESA. That’s a controlled emergency ascent without air. We came up from six meters, careful to take the requisite thirty seconds to avoid a lung injury. It’s harder than it sounds.

Letting Fallon know how I feel about her

But after that it was more sedate stuff. We settled onto a field of sand between mountains of coral that towered up beyond our sight. We were eighteen meters before the ocean’s surface. Occasionally a curious fish would pass us by, and the sun was periodically blotted out by the hazy figures of divers higher up.

On the sea floor we removed our masks and cleared them. We practiced a hover, and then it was off to explore.

It was at a depth of perhaps ten meters that I felt most like I was airborne. The coral beneath us was eight to ten meters distant and we six glided effortlessly alongside one another above it all. Karin’s smiling blue eyes said it all, and I grabbed Fallon’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before soaring off to the right and finding my own space.

It’s a fleeting thing, though. Soon we were back on the surface and stripping down for our debriefing. We filled out our logbooks, signed our final paperwork, and were handed our temporary cards. We are certified divers, and now a whole world of reefs, wrecks, sea beds, and kelp forests are open to us.

This might just be the most elated I’ve ever felt. It’s good to be alive.

——————

Travel Tips

The above was all written over the two nights we were in Cairns to complete our Open Water Scuba certification last weekend. We stayed at the Caravella Backpackers on The Esplanade in Cairns and did all of our training and diving with the wonderful people at the Deep Sea Diver’s Den.

If you’re ever in Cairns and looking for an affordable place to stay, I can’t recommend Caravella highly enough. The staff were friendly; the rooms were Spartan but comfortable; and the Mud Flat cafe attached served up a pretty good selection of snacks and light meals.

As for Deep Sea Diver’s Den – I really would recommend taking any courses or dives you wish to do with them. Their dive shop is well stocked, their staff do a fantastic job with teaching and training, and they definitely have a good idea of whereabouts on the reef you’re going to get the best conditions. As I said earlier, they went above and beyond to help Fallon get qualified, and put together a great value package for the two of us.

Links

Deep Sea Diver’s Den

Caravella Hostel

Armidale, Australia

The Armidale Homecoming

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The one where I return to my former college town for a wedding, splash cash on fine food, and catch an unplanned train ride home after late night drunken drama derails my original plans.

Coming Home

DID YOU KNOW: Armidale’s University of New England was the first university in Australia to be set up outside of a capital city.

There’s something about returning to an old stomping ground being a little bit older, wiser, and more financially well off than you had been when you called it home. Flashing a credit card at a cafe you couldn’t afford during your Uni days or splashing out the $6 for your favourite beer at a bar seems a far cry from the days when a box of cask wine and a Hero roll from the all night service station were lavish expenditures.

It’s a reality of life that as we get older friends start to marry and have children and do other such things that those of us with the travel bug might not see the sense in. And with most of us dispersed across the ground (or even the globe) – it becomes a pricey thing to make an appearance at these special events.

I lived and studied for my Bachelor of Arts in Armidale from 2002 to 2004, but having grown up just half an hour’s drive away in the tiny hamlet of Ben Lomond (population fifty) – it had been a pretty constant presence in my life since about 1996. I’ve got fond memories of perching on the garishly coloured play equipment out the front of Hannah’s Arcade and eagerly tearing open a new booster pack of Magic the Gathering cards at the age of twelve. My first kiss was had sitting in the gutter of a cul de sac in an quiet residential street somewhere near the colleges, and I can’t even recall every drunken expedition myself and my theatre buddies embarked on during our three years together.

But when my good friend Chris announced he was getting married, I knew I had to make an appearance. Having been abroad for the last two years has meant I’ve missed a number of weddings and births – and with my immediate future further claimed by lady travel – it would probably be my last chance to see a lot of good people again before I packed my bags and hopped a plane. With our budget tight due to the recent Cairns scuba excursion (entry about that is on the way) and Fallon’s friend Adam’s imminent Australian visit – as well as my upcoming Fijian tour – it was difficult to scrape together the cash to make it happen.

Still, Friday afternoon rolled around and the two of us hopped a train from Epping up to Newcastle, where we’d meet my old mate Randy for the driving portion of the trip. The sad reality about Australia is that it’s a big country that still thinks rather small. Public transport options to Armidale include an $85 train (one way), a $90 bus that takes ten hours, and $300-$400 for a round trip flight on a budget carrier. A far cry from South Korea’s $30 cross country KTX or a short jump between states in the US of A.

I’ve mentioned before my love of a good road trip, and while Randy is good company and my iPhone provided enough Journey and Queen to rock a small town, there’s precious little to see on the five our drive into the New England at the best of times. Less still when the sun has gone down. We contented ourselves with a few rousing rounds of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon – which is definitely my travel game of choice. It requires being a bit of a cinephile, but it’s a fun challenge and gets addictive as you try to find more and more obscure links.

Rediscovering Armidale

DID YOU KNOW: Armidale was settled in the 1830s and gets its name from Armadale on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. It is a cathedral city for both the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches.

We arrived in Armidale at around 11pm and after picking up a fourth member of our party, retired to the Armidale Motel. Armidale is bypassed by the New England Highway for those traveling farther afield, but there’s a slew of respectably priced hotels and motels on the fringe of town. For $160 a night we got a two bedroom unit serviced by a small kitchenette, a surprisingly roomy bathroom, free wireless (not as common in Australia as it should be), and Austar in our room. Fallon and I shared the double bed in the living area while Deano and Randy took singles in a the second room.

If I had to list a drawback for what was a nice spot to spend a few nights, it would be that it’s not close to town. While Armidale’s not so big that you can’t just walk to anywhere you’d like to be (and it has the arbitrary taxis and bus service to assist the less active) – the town centre does sit at the bottom of a bowl, which makes any return trip a testing excursion for even the healthiest of us. Fallon’s run a half marathon recently and found the steep hills and 3000 foot altitude a real test.

Of course, all of the above is made redundant if you brought a car.

Capturing the reds at Moore Park Inn

Saturday was the day of the wedding, but with it proceedings not due to kick off until 3pm we opted to head into town and kill some time.

I’m an unabashed lover of Armidale. Rural New South Wales might not have the best of reputations, but the presence of the University of New England has made Armidale something of a cosmopolitan hub in a region where popped colours, souped up utes, and dogs named Bluey are the norm. While it’s smaller than neighbouring Tamworth (Australia’s country music capital) – it has a decent night life, art galleries, a cinema that shows art films from time to time, and a number of other amenities that make it a lot more pleasant than a visit to nearby population centres such as Inverell or the aforementioned Tamworth.

Central to Armidale’s charm is that it is a truly ‘New England’ town. The summers are hot and dry; the autumns are a beautiful mix of reds, oranges, and yellows; the winters are cold to the point of occasional snowfall; and the springs are a vibrant explosion of green and bright floral colours. Alas, the weather we encountered as we meandered through Armidale’s paved mall arcade was more in line with the love-child of winter and autumn than the warm spring day we’d hoped for.

Still, we met up with a few more friends and took a late breakfast/early lunch at the Courthouse Cafe. Aptly named, given it is across the arcade from Armidale’s courthouse. The staff were enthusiastic about having a large group of young, cashed up, and boisterous customers – and bent over backwards to ensure we were comfortable – moving tables around, bringing the specials chalkboard to us, and generally hanging over us in favour of their few regulars who seemed content to huddle over their coffees and stare listlessly out at the grey sky.

Prices were, compared to Sydney, reasonable and the portions across all five different dishes we ordered were quite healthy. My hotcakes with maple syrup and bacon were particularly good, and I had a bite of Fallon’s summer crepes and wished I’d given them a closer look before ordering. I heard similarly rousing reviews of their decadent big breakfast (a heart attack inducing mix of bacon, sausage, beans, and eggs) and the chicken fettucini. Deano declared his eggs Benedict ‘the best he’d ever had’ – which I’d consider high praise unless he’s only had them once before.

I doubt many of you will ever breeze through Armidale and if you do, might balk at the idea of having to park and walk through the very picturesque arcade to get there – but I’d recommend a visit if you’re looking for a hearty breakfast or a light lunch. It’s small and maybe a bit more expensive than McDonalds or Subway would be – but its friendly staff and good food make it a winner in my book.

A word of advice: Steer clear of the criminally overpriced Rumours cafe. I’ve not even seen a Sydney cafe attempt to justify a $20 sandwich.

After fueling for the day ahead, we splintered off into various groups. I picked up a few travel books at Dymocks (Lonely Planet’s ‘The Big Trip’ and Lonely Planet’s ‘Best in Travel 2010’ – reviews to come) and we made a stop at Sticky Fingers in Hannah’s Arcade. After having forked out close to $12 for 300 grams of candy at Sydney Airport a week earlier – it was nice to get 400 grams for $9. With candy shops becoming a bit of a rarity, it’s also just a bit of a thrill to go into a fully stocked one and look around at all of the different varieties. From memory, they do a mean milkshake there too.

The day’s only other detour of note was a visit to Civic Video where an ex girlfriend of mine (and Deano’s) still works. Coupled with the presence of another friend who had a history with her, it must have been a surreal experience to see two college sweethearts and one near miss all standing side by side with grins on our faces. There’s an entry to come about this particular ex – as she played a large part in my desire to travel.

Anyway, after the hugs were had and pleasantries were exchanged, it was time to retire to our motel room to freshen up for the impending nuptials. The one lesson I learned? I need to reconsider my definition of semi-formal after showing up to a wedding rich in suits and vests in only a button up shirt and jeans.

The ceremony and reception both took place at Armidale’s Moore Park Inn – famed in the area for Archie’s on the Park restaurant and its large, rambling grounds. We certainly got to take in a lot of the latter during the outdoor ceremony and ensuing hour and a half of general confusion while we waited for the bridal party to return from their photo opportunities.

 

It was a spring day, but the air held the cool of autumn as wysteria petals tumbled lazily down onto the thick carpet of green grass in the Inn’s courtyard. The low hum of bees melted in nicely with the low murmur of conversation, and there was a decidedly Victorian feel to it all as thirty or forty people lulled in the grass, held court by the open bar, or gathered around the tables scattered about the lawn. The serenity and cool alone would have been worth the price of a trek up from Sydney – but free beers and finger food delivered by the Inn’s young and cheerful staff were an added bonus.

I’ll save discussion of the wedding proper for my non travel related blog, but suffice to say the Inn put on a good show. The food was scrumptious, the staff were all eager to help out, and they’d done a fabulous job of turning the hall into a site befitting a celebration of a love made eternal. My miso soup with scallop dumplings and Scotch fillet on a bed of creamy mash were both of a high standard, and I heard similar praise about the other menu items. Special praise also goes out to Fallon’s new friend Brooke – whose wedding cake was an exquisite finish to the three course meal.

DID YOU KNOW: A wedding reception is named for a newly married couple first ‘receiving’ society by hosting them for a meal. It is also traditionally a way for a couple to thank guests for their presence at the wedding.

Our night inevitably led us to more familiar Armidale pursuits – drinking in an Armidale bar. And while the New England Hotel might no longer be a hot-spot and Mojos has gone out of business again – we found a good ground and surprisingly cheap libations at the White Bull. The stylish and more upmarket pub has sprung up in the years since we attended university, but it felt like times of old as we watched college kids alternate between swarming the dancefloor and abandoning it in favour of smokes and fresh drinks.

Getting artsy at the reception

After almost a year of Sydney drinking, it was a nice surprise to get a good beer for $5 and a glass of Canadian Club & Coke for $6 – and I think we all overindulged in drinks as the night wore on. A few of us struck up conversation with the random girls who insisted on usurping half of the table we’d laid claim to – and that gave us dance partners at the end of the night.

There are few things in life sadder than five men forming a loose circle on the dance floor and dancing. Far too many of my nights out in uni ended that way.

Cue the Drama

It wouldn’t have been a night out in Armidale without the curfew calling an end to our festivities and some high drama. It’s not the appropriate forum to go into details – but suffice to say we spent a long, bitterly cold hour walking Armidale’s darkened streets looking for one of our party after he and another friend had an all in argument that I still don’t quite understand the genesis of.

We’re now on the morbidly expensive Countrylink X-Plorer back to Sydney – having opted to find alternate transportation so we can get home before 9pm. I don’t know how the company justifies an $85 price tag – but when it’s the only way to get from Armidale to the big smoke, I guess there’s precious little we can do but stump up the cash and suffer through their soggy on board microwave meals. The fish and chips were not worth the $9 price tag. If you’re ever on board – bring your own food.

It’s not all bad. The ride, while a tad repettiive over seven hours, does serve up some beautiful scenery that very few Australians (and even less tourists) get the chance to appreciate. So much attention is paid to the hot spots of Sydney, Melbourne, and the Queensland coast that the green part of the interior is often completely overlooked as backpackers bypass it on their way to Uluru or Darwin.

The New England might not have much of a night life, absolutely no beaches, and very little to appeal to young jet-setters: but there’s something to be said for its rolling green hills, large tracts of dry rainforest, and the brush with true Australia you can’t get from overpriced souvenirs or Sydney streets crowded with Asian bakeries, Indian restaurants, and American retail chains.

This part of the country will always be home to me, and while I might not have any plans in the immediate future to call it that again, I do intend to someday settle down somewhere in the cool highlands and make a home for myself.

I’ll be glad to get back to the city, and my credit card isn’t happy with the $190 charge for two tickets home, but it’s always nice to see an old place through new eyes. Better still to do it with good friends at your side..

Links

Armidale Motel

Moore Park Inn

White Bull Hotel

Sticky Fingers

Lonely Planet

Portland, United States

Boise, Astoria, Portland, and Seaside – Loving Oregon

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The one where I walk all over Portland to photograph its most beautiful buildings, drive from American Falls in Idaho to Portland, visit the home of the Goonies, eat saltwater taffy in Seaside, and see the world’s scariest clown at the Portland Saturday Markets.

Boise Pitstop

We learned one thing from our ten hour trip from Portland to American Falls for the service: ten hours is a long time to be sitting in a car. I should have known this. Having made the twelve hour drive from Tibooburra across to Newcastle and the longer one from Townsville down to Armidale in the past – you’d think I’d have learned this nugget of wisdom by now.

I like a good road trip as much as the next guy, perhaps more, but there’s only so many times you can hear the same song and eat truck-stop food before it all gets a little old. That and our car smelled like farts and sagebrush. And that was probably 90% my fault. I wasn’t yet aware that I was lactose intolerant.

To break up the drive, we decided to spend the evening with some of Fallon’s cousins in Boise. The visit itself was uneventful aside from good conversation with good people, but we got up at the crack of dawn to head out to Snake River Canyon and do a little photography before hitting the road. It was cold and still and foggy and just absolutely gorgeous.

Snake River Canyon just after dawn

I’ll be forever in envy of the United States’ rivers and lakes. Australia is so dry and flat that our idea of a big river is barely a trickle in comparison to most American rivers – and Snake River isn’t even a particularly big one. I wouldn’t recommend going out of your way to see it – but if you’re ever in the Boise area and have a few hours to kill, it’s got some good photo opportunities and it’s a nice drive.

Walking Tour

DID YOU KNOW: Portland is home to the second largest hammered copper statue in the world. The first? The State of Liberty.

One thing that Fallon had been particularly excited about planning for our Portland visit was a walking tour of the city she loved so much. And while we’d covered a decent amount of it during our brewery tour, there was still a great many places she wanted me to see while I was visiting. It’s been over a year since we made the trip, so you’ll forgive me if I can’t quite recall all that we saw – but I was smart enough to snap off copious amounts of photos, so I’ll let them do my talking for me.

Fallon (of Fallon's Healthy Life) looking pretty to start the tour
We spent a good hour snapping photos of this gorgeous church
I couldn't get enough of this cafe. It's still open!
The Ira Keller Fountain
Lunch at Steamers. Delicious!
Hundreds of geese on the shores of the Colombia River
The 24 Hour International Church of Elvis. I have no idea what this is.

It was a really gorgeous day out and we had a great time just wandering around and snapping photos. The above is just a handful of the places we went. Lunch at Steamers was fantastic and I’d thoroughly recommend it if you’re downtown. Now that I think about it – there were only really one or two restaurants in Portland that I wouldn’t recommend. It’s such a fantastic city if you’re looking to eat good food.

Dinner after the long walk was at Salvador Molly’s of Man vs. Food fame. And no, none of us tried the jalapeño poppers with habanero dipping sauce. None of us was in a hurry to vomit and then have violently burning diarrhea. But another good feed. I think I put on about 7kgs in my six weeks in the United States. Not pretty.

The next day was more sight-seeing. Portland Zoo, lunch at McMeniman’s with an old friend of Fallon’s, and then off to one of the famous Beer Theaters to watch The Hangover for about the tenth time in my life. Hilarious movie and a lot of fun watching it in a theater while drinking slightly over-priced beers.

Goonie!

DID YOU KNOW: The John Jacob Astor of Titanic fame is descended from the man who Astoria is named for.

Friday was the day I’d been most excited about. I think we’ve all got that movie that we grow up with and love to bits no matter how old we get. For some it’s The Princess Bride or Willow, but for me it’s The Goonies. I could watch that movie every day and never get sick of it. So, when I realized that Astoria was only ninety minutes drive from Portland, I insisted that we make the day trip out there.

The drive through the national park was breathtaking, and the whole day was a study in beautiful places. Astoria is this quaint little town with a lot of heritage buildings and cute cafes. Even without my eagerness to see the place for its Goonie link, I think we’d still have enjoyed just visiting the place. We made the obligatory stops at the Goonie house and the County Jail (now a laundromat) and then climbed Astoria Column to get a breath-taking view of where the Colombia enters the ocean.

Totally having a nerdgasm right about now
Admit it - You can totally hear the Fratellis music right now
Astoria Column: Gorgeous on the outside and absolute torture on the inside

The whole time we were there this mysterious honking bark had been confusing us, so we also trekked down to the waterfront to investigate and found a veritable horde of sea lions! They were everywhere on the docks. Lounging around, fighting, swimming – and people just had to deal with it.

Sea Lions take over Astoria's waterfront

From Astoria it was down to another quaint seaside village – aptly named ‘Seaside’. We had some clam chowder and fries, bought salt-water taffy, left gigantic ‘I love you’ messages in the sand, and I braved the icy cold autumn weather to wade into the Pacific ocean so I could say I had been in the water on both sides.

It was a little dizzying to stand there ankle deep in chilly water and realize that I had stood in that same ocean on an entirely different continent. I love those moments of absolute clarity when you stop and realize just how lucky you are – not just to be traveling, but to be alive.

It puts all of the little things into perspective. Relationships will come and go, friends will let you down, jobs will drown your spirit – but you’ll always be alive. And all it takes to get that feeling back is to step out your door and go somewhere you haven’t been before. It doesn’t have to be a long trip. You can just go to an unfamiliar suburb and start walking. You’ll find a cafe or a bar or a park and that, right there, is your adventure.

When this relationship with Fallon comes to an end and I inevitably find myself feeling like my heart will never heal, I’ll remind myself of moments such as that one in the sleepy town of Seaside. I’ll have moments like that again. The girl at my side might be different or I might just be alone, but I’ll experience that again. My life won’t be over – just a small (but significant) chapter of it. And it’s exciting to know I’ll get to write one of my own.

But I digress. This was meant to be a flashback to Portland – and 2009 Chris had no idea that 2010 Chris would be plotting a breakup for 2011 Chris.

After Seaside it was back to Portland for one last day. We spent the morning at Portland’s all day markets shopping; eating more delicious food; and being stalked by the world’s biggest and scariest clown. It was hilarious. His antics alone were worth the trip – and there were plenty of interesting stalls to visit to add to that.

World's Coolest Clown

DID YOU KNOW: The fear of clowns is called coulrophobia. It has grown in frequency in the years since Stephen King’s It was adapted for television.

All told, I fell in love with Portland. It wasn’t just about the food and the beer, although that played a huge part in it. It was also just the artsy feel of the place. This is a city that once had a reputation to make Vegas look like Salt Lake City, but it’s transcended its darker roots of Shanghaiing and opium dens and become a truly underrated corner of the United States.

When I look back on a trip that featured Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and countless other beautiful spots – it’s still Portland that I remember with the fondest memories. Forget Seattle – Portland is where it’s at.

One for the road: Multnomah Falls

Links

As always, here are a selection of links to the places I would recommend that were mentioned in this entry.

McMeniman’s
Restaurants, breweries, and beer theaters. Oh my!

Astoria, Oregon
Home of Astoria Column, The Goonies Tour, and a thousand beautiful buildings

Seaside
Delicious salt-water taffy, lots to see, and the beach to boot.

Steamers
Not as dirty as it sounds. Really good Asian food.

Portland Saturday Market
Home of the world’s creepiest clown and lots of hand-made jewelry and art

Salvador Mollys
Good food. Good times.

Life on the Road, Musings, Portland, South Korea, Sydney

Detours

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Good times at the Harbourview Hotel in Sydney

When you hear the word ‘travel’ what is it you think of? A backpacking trip around Europe? A plane ride to some slightly more exotic locale than the one you inhabit? A visit to the beach or the mountains?

Obviously all of these answers are correct – but I think a lot of us undervalue the shorter trips. I’ve mentioned before how something as simple as going to an unfamiliar suburb and exploring it can be an adventure in and of itself, and I firmly believe that. Some of the most fun days I’ve had in Sydney this year haven’t been meticulously planned expeditions. A day spent exploring Milson’s Point proved to be far more fun than I’d anticipated. Who’d have thought such a cute little suburb existed at a train station I pass every day on the way to work?

Likewise, while I went on a great many long distance trips in my two years in South Korea to explore places such as Jejudo and Busan – some of my fondest memories involved venturing only a few hundred meters. Fallon and I once spent a morning simply exploring the streets in my dong (Korean equivalent to a suburb) that I didn’t walk every day on the way to walk. We found little parks, a Belgian waffle place that become our brunch location of choice, and discovered a pair of ratty looking trampolines upon which hordes of unsupervised children seemed content to while away their only day off of the week.

On another occasion when weather ruined a planned trip to Jindo to participate in its famed Moses Walk – a few of us decided to stick around closer to home. What started out as a short trip to pick up delicious hot pretzels lead into a whole series of random adventures. We explored an abandoned shopping mall and spotted bedding in a few of the long out of business shops. Were the previous lessees having to sleep amongst the ashes of their failed business venture as a result of their ill fated gamble?

While exploring we found that the entire centre hadn’t been abandoned. On the top floor, sandwiched in between the ghosts of two former restaurants with poorly translated names, we found a store that was full of wigs, funny hats, costumes, and the kind of cheesy photo booths you spot all over the place in Chinatowns across the world. We took a string of sickeningly cute photographs and had a fantastic time – and all in a place we’d never had known existed if we hadn’t wandered just a few metres off of the path that ran by the mall.

Nawwww

Later that day, to continue the random theme, we decided to go up onto Fallon’s roof and ‘camp’. We took a small BBQ, a tent, and a tiny iPod dock up and braved the wind and occasional rain to make the best of the food Fallon had prepared for our excursion that never was. Huddled around the tiny gas burner we cooked marinated chicken breasts, cinnamon baked pineapple, hot-dogs, and finally roasted some s’mores as the sun set over Mokpo. It still remains one of the most randomly fun days I had in my time in Korea – and the farthest we travelled was the short cab ride to a pretzel place (Tom & Toms – look it up if you’re ever in Korea) we visited every other weekend.

But by taking a few steps off of the path and a few flights of stairs up to Fallon’s roof – we turned what could have been just another lazy Saturday into a stupid little adventure.

Too often we let the logistics of travel daunt us. We decide we want a holiday and, for whatever reason, decide that this needs to be an expensive and stressful thing. And sometimes maybe it is expensive and a little stressful. But sometimes it’s as simple as taking a left where you usually take a right and seeing where it takes you.

9 times out of 10 it might only lead you to a bunch of cookie cutter houses and shops you have no interest in visiting. But sometimes you might just find yourself on a random adventure you never thought you’d be having – and those days, those spontaneous detours that make your day – are worth every time your detour ends only in being five minutes late.

At the risk of sounding like a preachy new age guru, here’s my challenge to you. Next time it’s a lazy Saturday and all you have planned is vegging on the couch and surfing the net – get up, grab a bottle of water and your camera, and head out the front door. Look in the direction your travels usually take you and then go in the opposite direction.

I can’t promise it’ll be the time of your life, but I can promise you it will be more exciting than another day of Farmville, Twitter, and hitting refresh on the football score. And those things will all still be there when the sun goes down.

Today’s question: Has there ever been a time where you’ve had a good, random time without going too far out of your way? I’d love to hear about it.

Portland, United States

Falling in Love with Portland, Oregon

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I’m treading water waiting to go on my next trip at the moment, but a year ago I was exploring the United States and spending every last cent I’d saved in South Korea on new clothes, new gadgets, and far too much fatty food. It’s no wonder the United States is the world’s most obese nation. If we had access to the decadence of 90 cent fountain soda, 24 hour breakfast diners, and a thousand fast food chains – we’d be in the same boat. It’s a junk food lovers paradise.

But I digress.

A year ago I went on a six week expedition around America’s North West – taking in sights in Idaho, Montana, Oregon, Washington State, Arizona, and Nevada. It was utterly fantastic and an experience I never really documented. So, while I wait for my next adventure to begin, here’s some of my US adventures!

A Rough Start

I remember waking up to a cool Idaho morning and knowing right away that I had not gotten enough sleep. Fallon and I had been up until the wee hours of the morning creating and burning nine different mix CDs for our six hour drive to Portland. It was 6am and we had a long day ahead of us.

As we hurriedly moved our bags out to Fallon’s parents Celica a phone call almost derailed our entire trip. Fallon’s grandfather had been rushed to hospital with heart complications and nobody was sure if he’d pull through. There was a tough moment as Fallon tried to decide whether it was best to go ahead with the trip or stay at home with the family in anticipation of the worst. It was her mother who made our decision for us – insisting that we get out and go on our ten day trip to Portland we’d been so excited about.

Portland for Fallon was a lot like Armidale for me. It was the town she did her growing up in and a town about which she had a great many fond memories. In addition to that, her best friends in the world were living there.

So it was that we found ourselves on the road from Couer D’Alene to Portland with full Bubba Kegs (massive drinking cups that are tapered to fit into a cup holder) and an arm full of snacks. True to Fallon’s warning, the terrain we passed along the way was thirteen flavours of boring.

And I say this having grown up in rural Australia – the land of brown grass, endless pastures, and tiny towns that don’t ever shut down because they’ve never really woken up.

We were about 45 miles out of Kennewick, Washington when Fallon’s Mom texted with the news that Fallon’s grandfather had passed away. On a busy freeway, I had to content myself with holding Fallon’s hand as tears rolled down her cheeks.

There’s a strange kind of powerlessness you feel when somebody you love is going through something and the only help you can offer them is your presence – but I did the best I could as we pulled off the freeway and I stepped out of the car and held her while she cried on my shoulder.

Getting it out of her system seemed to help, but before we could pull away to continue on to Portland – we realized she’d left her purse behind in Kennewick. I think this very nearly pushed her over the edge – but I managed to diffuse the situation by maintaining my cool, calling 411 to get some details, and then confirming with the staff at Carls Jr. that they still had her bag. Still, she wasn’t happy with herself as we made the 90 mile detour to pick it up.

The remainder of our journey was easier. With the news of her grandfather’s passing confirmed, it no longer hung over us and we could make plans to attend the funeral. With the knowledge that the funeral would be Monday – we resolved to do three days in Portland, make the drive down to American Falls, and then trek back up to finish the detailed Portland itinerary that Fallon had spent countless nights in Korea planning.

Portland – Food, Booze, and Shopping

DID YOU KNOW: Powell’s Books in Portland, Oregon is the largest independent bookstore in the United States. It takes up an entire city block.

Between our detour and our numerous snack related stops along the way, we didn’t reach Portland until around 6pm. We made a hurried stop at Fallon’s friend Adam’s to drop off our things and change out of our stinky travel clothes. Adam is Fallon’s oldest and closest friend – they were born just three months apart and have known one another since then. He’s the kid that – when they were both five – their parents joked about her marrying, but they’ve known one another so long now that he’s more a brother to her than a friend.

I can’t say that I’ve ever really had a friendship like that. My oldest continuous friendship only stretches back as far as my first year of high school. One of the side effects of having a father whose job moved him all around the state when I was young. I’d gone to six different schools before I even reached high school.

From there, we were back into the car not long after that to meet up with Fallon’s other best friend, Jenny. A little nervous about meeting the best female friend Fallon has, we waited outside PF Chang’s and were soon joined by her. Dinner was good, although I was basically a spectator as the two caught up on 14 months gossip. After a meal of Singapore noodles, lettuce rolls, and a few beers – we headed over to Powell’s books – which is the largest bookstore on the West Coast and the largest independent bookstore in the United States. For the princely sum of $20 I managed to pick up Black House by Stephen King & Peter Straub; the first book in Glen Cook’s Instrumentalities of Night series; and the complete first book of the Gunslinger Born graphic novel by Stephen King with Marvel Comics. I was very stoked about that.

I have to say, shopping in the United States is a dream. Australia’s ridiculously inflated prices on just about everything are one of the key reasons why I like to travel. I like nice things, but they’re easier to buy just about anyplace else.

After that, it was time to part ways – and we headed back to Adam’s place for some drinks with Adam, his housemate, and Cody & Dez (friends from South Korea). It was pretty low key. Fallon had three beers to my one; we all feasted on the orange cinnamon rolls Desiree had baked earlier; and it was bed by midnight for a very drunk Fallon and I.

Thursday saw us up early for our day of shopping – which was particularly important now that we knew we’d have a funeral to attend. After a breakfast of Fudd Rucker’s (amazing) we first stopped at the Croc’s Store so that Fallon could pick up a pair of heels she’d seen. We’re both staunch Crocs haters, but these were some damn nice looking shoes – and with them having a 2 for 1 sale, I also picked up a much needed pair of thongs (flip flops or jandals if you’re not Australian).

From there it was out to the Woodburn Outlet Malls. Over the next five hours I spent my full $250 clothes budget between Banana Republic, Gap, Eddie Bauer, and Colombia as I picked up a pair of cords, a pair of cargoes, a pair of khakis, a sweater, a coat, a hoodie, two pairs of shorts, two long sleeved shirts, a polo shirt, and two or three t-shirts. Fallon also got some pretty fantastic clothes, and soon we were headed back to Portland proper.

Dear Australia: Where are your Outlet Malls?

We stopped off at a mall on the way home to visit a Build-a-Bear store, where we made one another talking bears to keep us company for the two months we’ll be apart. Fallon made me a dog cheerleader named Pepper that proudly announces: “You’re my favorite, and I love you” when its paw is squeezed. In return, she got a teddy bear in a hoodie and underpants by the name of Snickelfritz that tells Fallon: “Love you lots and lots, pretty lady. Can’t wait to show you around Australia”.

In hindsight, that bear stopped making sense about three months later when she moved to Australia.

With that syrupy sweetness done, we headed to the famous Raccoon Lodge for dinner. Having had burgers for breakfast, Fallon and I decided to split the Ring Tail Burger and an order of fries while we sank a few beers.

Are you getting the central theme here? Food, beers, and shopping. I promise – we actually do stuff sometimes too!

Portland Brewery Tour

DID YOU KNOW: Portland, Oregon has more microbreweries per capita than any other city in the United States?

Friday rolled around with us ready for the brewery tour Fallon had designed for us. Adam, Cody, and Desiree joined us as it kicked off at Widmer brewery at aroud 1pm. We had lunch (I had my first reuben) and Fallon and I split a sampler of six beers to kick things off. Fallon’s favorite beer is a Widmer Hefeweizen, so she was happy with that.

Adam nursing a beer as big as his head at Widmer Brewery

Next up was Lucky Lab. The beers we tried there weren’t so hot, but we had a good slice of vegetarian pizza. The brewery itself was inside a big, German style beer hall which might have been more impressive if we hadn’t been the only ones in it. The massive engine block suspended immediately over my head as I drink didn’t exactly fill me with confidence either. Visions of Final Destination danced in my head.

Ominous...

Then it was over to Laurelwood’s restaurant, where we had another eight beer sampler that was quite good. We also split the nachos plate and all five of us shared a slice of their famous carrot cake. It really was borderline orgasm inducing.

The prettiest beer menu on earth

It was at Laurelwood we parted ways with Cody & Dez, who had a family thing to attend – but Adam, Fallon, and I pressed on to the Rogue Brewery. Well, the brewery is actually in Astoria – but we still managed an eight beer sampler that probably produced the most likable beers of the day. Their Pumpkin Frog; Sesquicentenial, Pale Ale, and Kel’s Irish were amazing. Our last stop was too busy, so we instead headed straight to dinner at E-San, which is Fallon’s favorite Thai restaurant in Portland. I was not disappointed. We shared the Pad Thai and a chicken dish on coconut rice that I can’t remember the name of for the life of me. But damned if they weren’t both amazing.

The tour was over, but the night was not – so we headed to Ground Kontrol, which is an arcade that serves alcohol and still only charges in quarters. Adam, Cody, and I teamed up on Sunset Riders and managed to finish it – with me getting the second highest score of all time for the low, low price of $3.75. That was a lot of continues, given you get three lives for a quarter.

After that I played some pinball and watched Dez & Fallon failing epically on Dance Dance Revolution. With everyone’s quarters exhausted, we went by the famous Voodoo Donuts for a snack. Voodoo do a lot of more ‘adult’ donuts, and actually had Pepto and Nyquil filled donuts until about a year ago. We decided to get a selection. Fallon and Adam both got the Memphis Mafia (a donut covered in chocolate, peanut butter, and banana); I got one with fruit loops; Desiree got the eponymous Voodoo (shaped like a man, filled with raspberry sauce, and with a chocolate coated pretzel stick to stab him); and Cody got the Maple & Bacon (which is exactly what it sounds like). We ate our fill and then it was off to the Boiler Room – Fallon’s favorite karaoke joint from her college years.

It bleeds jam!
Fruit Loops and donuts - together at last!

Life has an annoying way of changing things we loved, and it was that way for the Boiler Room. What had once been a chill place to sing had become a meat market, so our stay was brief before we decided to make the 10.30pm showing of the very, very, very awesome Zombieland.

By the time the movie finished it was almost 1am, so we retired to bed knowing we had a full day of parties for the Saturday.

Saturday rolled around with us due at Cody & Dez’s second wedding reception (the first having been in South Korea) at 11am. The reception was pretty fun. I mostly sat around chatting to Adam, Jacob, Jen, David (Fallon’s ex, who is now engaged), Johanna, and Bobby (the latter two being former classmates from PSU) – but Fallon and I also stole a good half hour nap on the love-seat as we soaked in the last of the summer sun.

After the reception it was naps, Baja Fresh for dinner, and then it was time for what was supposed to be my first American kegger. But with no keg and only about a dozen people, it ended up being a far more mellow affair. While Fallon caught up with old friends – I alternated between explaining the rules of rugby league to curious Americans; watching European Vacation in the living room; and being a little bored. I had no complaints when it was time to unroll the air mattress and go to bed at midnight.

That brings us to the sad part of the trip which, while significant to Fallon, doesn’t really have any place in a travel blog. More Portland adventures to follow at some later date.

Links!

In case you are curious about any of the places visited in this post, I’ve tracked down links for you. Aren’t I generous?

Powell’s Books – http://www.powells.com/
An entire city block of books, stationary, and gift ideas. I could have spent an entire day wandering around this place and still wanted more time. If you’re ever in Portland, pay it a visit. You won’t be disappointed.

Voodoo Donuts – http://www.voodoodoughnut.com/
Fantastic, devilishly adult donuts. It’s only open after 10pm – so it’s a perfect place for drunken revelers to stumble when they have a hankering for something unhealthy.

Widmer Brewery – http://www.widmer.com/
Makers of the fantastic Widmer Hefeweizen.

The Lucky Lab – http://www.luckylab.com/
Not the best brewery I visited in Portland, but it has a fantastic beer hall design and affordable pizza slices. Worth a look.

Laurelwood – http://www.laurelwoodbrewpub.com/
Visit for the carrot cake alone. I cannot stress how amazingly, toe-curlingly good the carrot cake was. The beer ‘aint half bad either. A tad pricey though.

Rogue Brewery – http://www.rogue.com/
Astoria’s best export since The Goonies. See the entry body for my beer recommendations.

Ground Kontrol – http://www.groundkontrol.com/
All the fun of classic arcade games at classic arcade game prices and it’s licensed. Play the original Donkey Kong while throwing back dirt cheap PBR.

E-San – http://www.e-santhai.com/
Hands down – the best Thai food I have ever eaten. Granted I’ve not been to Thailand (yet) but it beats anything I’ve had in Australia.