Category Archives: Travel

Circumnavigating Part 1: Paris and London Plus Board

The Inertia kindly published part one of Circumnavigating a few months ago. In case you didn’t see it, here it is. If you did (and enjoyed), look for part two tomorrow.

Against all logic and airline stipulations, my board and I traveled from New York to Paris, to Metz, back to Paris, to London, and to Sydney (via Bangkok) without paying a single baggage fee. Unless you count needing a bigger-than-standard taxi in Paris. And actually, the board got me some free first-class Chunnel seats.

Friends at home kept suggesting that I just ship the Penguin straight to Australia and forget about dragging it around with me, for the sake of expediency and cash flow. I insisted that taking it with me would be a “funny” thing to do—and would probably be cheaper. To those friends, I say… “Wait a second, I was right?” Okay, only half right, maybe.

The guy who checks me in at the Iceland Air counter gingerly presses a “Fragile” sticker onto the bag and says it is light enough to fly for free. The very image of hospitality. Nevermind that I will shiver through the entire flight, there will be no food served, and Icelandic sounds like a mash-up language.

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My Official (Ever Incomplete) Aussie Beer List

In vaguely alphabetical order, kind of. New brews are in bold.

  1. The Bimbo Blonde
  2. Blue Sky Cairns Gold
  3. Blue Sky Woody Ale
  4. Blue Tongue Lager
  5. Bootleg Brewery Toms Amber Ale
  6. Bootleg Brewery Raging Bull
  7. Burleigh Brewing Co. 28 70s Style Pale Ale
  8. Burleigh Brewing Co. Big Head
  9. Burleigh Brewing Co. FIGJAM IPA
  10. Burleigh Brewing Co. Hassle Hop (GABS)
  11. Burleigh Brewing Co. My Wife’s Bitter

    Burleigh's FIGJAM IPA

    Burleigh’s FIGJAM IPA

  12. Carlton Black
  13. Carlton Draught
  14. Carlton Midstrength
  15. Victoria Bitter
  16. Melbourne Bitter
  17. Pure Blonde
  18. Pure Blonde White
  19. Big Helga (Carlton)
  20. Cascade Draught
  21. Cascade Green
  22. Cheeky Monkey Travelling Monk
  23. Colonial Brewing Co. Kolsch Ale

    Colonial Brewing Co. in Margaret River, WA

    Colonial Brewing Co. in Margaret River, WA

  24. Colonial Brewing Co. Witbier
  25. Colonial Brewing Co. Pale Ale
  26. Colonial Brewing Co. India Pale Ale
  27. Colonial Brewing Co. Porter
  28. Colonial Brewing Co. Dampf
  29. Coopers Pale Ale
  30. Coopers Sparkling Ale
  31. Coopers Light
  32. Coopers Mild Ale
  33. Coopers Stout
  34. Coopers Clear
  35. Coopers Dark Ale
  36. Coopers 62 Pilsner
  37. Endeavor True Vintage Beer 2011 Reserve Amber Ale
  38. 4 Pines Brewing Pale Ale
  39. Gage Roads Brewing Co. Sleeping Giant IPA
  40. Great Northern Brewing Co. Super Crisp Lager
  41. XXXX Gold
  42. XXXX Summer Bright Lager
  43. Hahn Premium
  44. Hahn Super Dry
  45. Boag’s Draught
  46. James Boag’s Premium Lager
  47. James Boag’s Premium Light
  48. James Squire Brewhouse Highway Man Red Ale      Continue reading
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The Trouble with Hostels

As I sit in Melbourne’s Tullamarine Airport, refusing to pay $6 for 30 minutes of wifi, and marveling that the explosive check guy asked if I was over 18, it also occurs to me that hostel people are a curious type. By “hostel people,” I mean people who genuinely like them. And by “curious,” I do not mean inquisitive.

I spent the last week in a hostel–my longest stretch yet. As you may have deduced, the word “snob” has been thrown at me from time to time: I fancy fancy beers and I don’t particularly enjoy sharing bedrooms with strangers. Judge me as you will. Anyway, I am calling seven nights in a four-person dorm a personal accomplishment. I wouldn’t say it was ace, but I wasn’t miserable. Sharing a room with three is better than sharing a room with five or nine. The Nunnery is clean and provides a [sparse] breakfast each morning. And there are lots of opportunities for socializing. The thing is, socializing can be frustrating in this setting, which basically amounts to an itinerant frat house.

Weirdly, my aversion has nothing to do with screaming, sloppy 20-year-olds. They’re fine. It has to do with the fact that people who stay in hostels always (okay, often) try to make your trip inferior to theirs. I had a guy from Indiana tell me, “Well, I’ve got the travel bug real bad.” As if my being on the other side of the planet–alone–isn’t proof enough that I enjoy traveling. Mind you, this was after he said, “You’re from Jersey and you haven’t fallen in love with anywhere here?” Let the record show that I merely said I haven’t [yet] found a spot in Oz where I’d be willing to work any random job to pay the rent.

I told another girl I’ll have spent a little over two months in Australia and she said, “Oh, a short little trip!”

Yeah, hostel people are weird.

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When Manners Go Awry

People have been asking me if I’m Canadian.

I don’t say “aboot” or “eh” (very much). That aside, our accents are similar, so I was thinking this was a fair guess.

It’s sort of vital for us “morally indefensible” hustlers (journalists) to be able to put people at ease. I’m decent at making people think I:

a. want to hear their thoughts

b. won’t judge them.

These are mostly true. As a result, strangers ask to join me for meals. They also seem to feel they can confide in me. You’re wondering what this has to do with me being Canadian, eh?

Well, my receptive and amicable demeanor has apparently encouraged a handful of recent acquaintances to reveal that they already suspected I was American; they only asked if I was Canadian(not American) to avoid offending me, on the off-chance that I was, in fact, Canadian. Does anyone else see a discrepancy here?

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Melbourne. Rocks.

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Canberra is Way Cooler than People Say.

At the moment, I’m in Australia’s lovely capital, Canberra. There are no waves to speak of, but there is a pretty thriving bike culture. And loads of coffee. AND KANGAROOS! And I saw Limitless last night–it was pretty good. Everyone in America has probably already seen it, hey? Well if not, I recommend it.

I head to Melbourne tomorrow morning. Although I may or may not be running out of funds (please, please, give me a job!) I have decided that splurging on activities is far superior to sipping coffee in rainy dankness (ahem, Cairns). So, I’m planning to see where we lost our beloved Bodhi and take a ride on The Great Ocean Road. I’m looking for other fun stuff to do, too, so if you know Melbourne, throw some suggestions my way. Tanks!

I’ll have better updates for you soon. In the mean time, check out these chickens:

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How to Feel Like You Surf GOOD (Even When You Don’t)

Step One: Surf in Australia.

Many of Australia’s beaches are world-renowned, and I guess owing to the fact that Asia is so darn close, that continent’s tourists really enjoy this continent’s beaches. Now, Asians and I have couple of things in common–the most notable being unhealthy loves of both bubble tea and photographic equipment. And landmarks. Yes, those too. Accordingly, when you visit Bondi or Byron or Surfers Paradise, you will find lots of camera-clenching excursionists (I like that word) with a duty to obtain evidence that they were there. (I know the feeling.) Get ready for the best part: What cooler form could evidence possibly take than a snapshot of a real, live surfer? If you have a surfboard on the east coast of Oz–nevermind whether you are actually using it–you WILL be photographed by a traveling Asian, and then you will receive a grateful nod or wave. You will feel like a rock star. This foolishly unexpected, yet brilliant, bonus to surfing some of the world’s most famous beaches is, alone, worth the plane ride.

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Quik Pro Day One (And Aftereffects)

February 27th, 2011

Coolangatta

8:45 a.m. NSW

7:45 a.m. QLD

I am not a snob.

A piece of overripe fruit just fell from a tree and splattered on my leg, from which I also occasionally flick a renegade ant. I am sitting on a filthy bench at a bus stop, having a $1 cappuccino from 7-11 and feeling triumphant because a moment ago, I won a battle of wills with a seagull—over my apple walnut scroll. That fucker got pretty close, but I held my ground.

I’m wearing yesterday’s denim skirt and white tank—and bikini bottoms. I think I have been spending a lot of–possibly too much–time in the sun. At least that crater in my foot is no longer packed with sand.

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