Feb 27 - Carpe Diem on a Budget

I was never much of a backpacker. In fact, I did very little true backpacking in my youth. And the little that I did do was never for long. I remember a memorable moment in Frankfurt, Germany when a friend and I booked ourselves into a hostel for the night but after a few beers and some not-so-sober second thought we booked ourselves out of the hostel and into a four star hotel on his credit card! Yup. That was me. A real adventurer. The world was my oyster – but only if the price was right – and I didn’t have to sleep eight to a room. In this regard, Linton is a much more experienced traveler. Her stories on the “high seas” of world travel reveal a “flexibility” and spirit that I have never had. Or at least, I didn’t think I did.

One of my favourite expressions has always been carpe diem. Since my high school days when I used it in a valedictory address, on through Dead Poets Society when Robin Williams etched it permanently into my psyche as the oh-so-ever-inspiring Mr. Keating. The beauty of the sentiment captured in those two words – challenging us all to make the most of our lives – is a mantra I do at times fail to live, but know I never really will forget. I’m not sure why I am so keen on it. Is it because I know that without this type of subtle verbal nudge, my somewhat docile natural state might slip into a form of permanent hibernation? Or maybe, in light of my indifferent, quasi-agnostic attitude toward religion, it supplies me with a direction that the good book fails to point out. Or, perhaps the English teacher in me, the one that likes to give life a good long hard look, is attracted to this term because so much of literature is littered with heroes and villains who were trying to do just that – seize the day. I don’t know. But I do know it’s hard to argue against it.

I also know it’s why I am so proud of this life adventure that the four of us continue to experience. We have, in effect, seized about 400 odd days and chosen to do something that I feel could have just as easily drifted by as another of life’s “wish list” items, sadly unrealized. I’m still not entirely sure why we’re here. What I mean is, why we went to all that trouble to completely turn our lives upside down, just to travel a long way from home. In retrospect and in terms of a comparable expenditure, we could have simply reno’ed the entire house or put a down payment on a piece of vacation property. But we didn’t. Instead, we packed up our lives and flew away – for a little study, a spot of rest, a lot of travel and a pinch of perspective.

Since arriving we have continued to apply this mindset to our exploration of the country and new experiences. When an opportunity has presented itself we have, I believe in every instance, jumped at the chance to see or do it. As a result we have already seen so much of the country – more than many Australians - who have told us as much. Whether in Toronto or Melbourne, we have never been all that comfortable just hanging out at home and that prospect quickly becomes even less palatable when we remind ourselves of just what home we’re hanging in and the endless opportunities lying just off the front stoop. And to date, the carpe diem spirit has worked wonderfully. Though the recent bushfires squashed our plans to camp in a gorgeous national park this weekend, we were not deterred. Not wanting to “lose” the weekend entirely, we booked ourselves into a hotel in Point Lonsdale and so we’re off to Geelong and a drive around Port Phillip Bay.

The thinking is certainly a luxury. Carpe Diem, while suggesting the pursuit of the possibilities life holds, can also seem to ignore its realities. And it is now being seriously challenged as time and money become more of a factor. They are both things we are running out of. And yet, what continues to reverberate in our heads and against our wallets is that, more than likely, we will never be back here again. So while not wanting to be foolish with our finances, we continue to plan in favour of the opportunity. Such is the reason that we are also departing on a four day tour of Tasmania next week. No, it doesn’t fit the budget. Yes, it might mean the last couple of months see fewer treats and fridge magnets. And though perceived regret might not be the best reason to do something illogical, we had to ask ourselves a question that was no less relevant today as it was last September – when will we ever be in a position to do this again? With our kids? In that context, carpe diem will continue to shine ever so brightly, helping us to bank a different kind of wealth.

Feb 22 - My growing admiration for Australian pride

I used to think I knew what it meant to be a proud Canadian. No, I mean, what it really meant. Beyond the usual platitudes to the maple leaf, hockey, peacekeeping, and the odd beaver - I really thought I knew in my heart what most frequently swelled my pride in the "true north strong and free". However, after eight plus months in Australia and with fresh insight from the Victorian bushfire tragedy, I continue to build a better appreciation for what makes this land "down under" unique and worthy of so much Australian pride. And, like all good travel does, I am now questioning my own experience. Do I really know what it means to be a proud Canadian?

It's definitely a question fraught with peril. We often seem to feel strangely comforted by the somewhat unsatisfying conclusion that to be a true Canadian, one must always worry about what it means to be true a Canadian! Indeed, my first few attempts at crafting my own distinct definition fails to offer anything remotely satisfying or more enlightening. Canadians are peace loving - yes, for the most part - though our ongoing participation in Afghanistan could call that into question for some. We are a culture or community that opens its arms to all citizens of the world - yes, that I think we do better than most, but the sad state of our own aborginal nations is a definite black mark on that reputation. We are a nation defined by our land and its vastness - yes...but that's a point where I think I begin to have a bit more trouble. True - we have incredible resources, but they are no more "mine" or appreciated by me than they are by a tourist from Germany and I would bet that many tourists from Germany have seen more of our country than the average Canadian! I think we like to think we have land, fresh water, access to oceans and a few mountains for skiing and photo ops - but I am not sure we, as a nation, define ourselves through our geography, say the way Australians do. Unfortunately, because of our apparent wealth of natural resources, a majority of Canadians do very little to conserve or protect the riches that we do have. As long as it's not in my backyard, how much do we really care?



While I could go on to further make my case, I want to bring in Australia, our chosen "home away from home" for one year, to try to explain the difference I have begun to appreciate in how Australian's see themselves and their place in the world - relative to my own sense of my "Canadianness". All of this navel-gazing, I must admit, comes after sniffling my way through a very emotional national day of mourning ceremony for the bushfire victims. If ever there is a time to see a nation at its best, one need only to watch as it tries to deal with its worst. To this end, Australians have rallied behind their fellow citizens incredibly. The tasteful and moving ceremony, though perhaps in danger of becoming maudlin or even political, struck all the right chords - and I think it did partly because there is much in this country that unites people.



If it's not a natural disaster - it's a national success story' like the Beijing Olympics. If it's not the failing economy it's the fragile environment. If it's not a venomous animal it's famous sports hero. Regardless of the cause or concern, Australians' emotions seem to ebb and flow as one. In almost mythical proportion, everyone shares a firm belief in their can-do spirit, pioneering courage and resolve, and the immutable desire to define who they are by how well they have managed to craft life out of such a challenging environment. Life in Australia can be hard wherever you go and I think, in their minds, there have been no great superpowers at their southern border helping to make this good life possible. They are, quite literally, an island unto themselves, but with aspirations and the availablity of resources to be great; on their own terms. And though they and many others would admit it hasn't been a perfect run, the sense of commonality surrounding their past and collective destiny is quite inspring.



When I think back to Canada and all that I know and love about it - this commonality seems to be missing - at least, to the same degree. Whether its the states, Quebec or even Ontario the common and unfortunate cliche is that we are often defined by what or who we are not - rather than who we are. We are a nation of such far off and divergent regions - each dealing with its own great struggles - that we seem to care little for the other guys' problems down the highway. Without any great wars or signifcant crises uniquely our own we have continued to "buy" our nationhood through our exploits on foreign shores or in other arenas. There has been no great oppressor we all had to beat back and so we fight over the easy spoils like unruly school kids, each thinking we are more entitled than the next guy. I think that's why I'm not much for Stephen Harper. His political roots are regionally motivated and it seems to me that he's taking his turn as leader more as an act of revenge than any great desire to build a great nation. The Harper/Flaherty mini-budget fiasco before Christmas is a perfect case in point. I'm sorry to again get political.



But back to the ceremony. Held in the Rod Laver arena, there were the requisite dignitaries, speeches and musical tributes - all of which were necessary and tasteful. Interestingly, one of the songs was a beautiful choral arrangement of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah". They love him down here and again, I wonder if this adoptive home has more to teach me about my homeland. And yet, in all of the pomp and protocol there also remained a strong sense of what makes Australia unique beyond its history and heritage. For example, they played the national anthem, of course, but there was also a very moving performance of a song called "I am Australian". It was perfect for the occasion - moving, but at the same time inspring everyone to rebuild and rally around each other. I couldn't help to think what song Canadians might sing in a similar circumstance - Farewell to Nova Scotia? Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald? Sudbury Saturday Night? I can only hope that in 2010 Vancouver's Olympic organizers find a way of singing our praises that stretches far beyond Avril Lavigne, David Foster, or "Canada, We Love You".

And so while I shed a tear or two as I watched this nation in mourning, I also wonder if I wasn't a little sad that we Canadians don't spend a little more time finding and celebrating the distinct stories that make us another of the truly great nations of the world. Of course, pride for one's country need not only surface in times of trouble. However, as Australians admirably rally around their flag and their nation, I am struck by the power, pride and potential captured in a moment of sharing the experience of being Australian.

Feb 18 - More on the bush fires...and some catching up

The bushfires continue to capture the nation's minds and media. The death toll is now past 200 and predicted to go higher. The fundraising appeal has already topped $100 million. An arsonist has been arrested and charged with lighting one of the fires that killed 25 people. We have been experiencing a lot of smoke in the city and the days are marked by what they call a smoke haze. All of the cars have a fine layer of ash on them and we awoke the other day with sore throats - a symptom of breathing the polluted air. The sunsets have been wild and the other day the moon was more red than white - I'm not sure the picture does it justice. To offer some perspective on the proximity of the closest fires to where we are - picture living in the Annex and having half of Caledon up in flames. That's about how far away they are, so we are feeling relatively secure with about 60 kms of concrete infrastructure between us and them. I noted there are fire crews arriving from Canada soon to aid in the fight - and that's a good thing because there are at least 8 that are still out of control.

The drama is moving in many directions at once. Currently, one of the biggest crises is the fact that several of Melbourne's freshwater reservoirs are at risk of being contaminated by the fires. Given that they are already at historical lows, 31% capacity, and this has been the driest summer on record, the authorities are suitably concerned. I'm not sure that the general citizenry as a whole is all that concerned, but the experts are saying that there are things at play with respect to Melbourne's water supply that could affect the area for the next thirty years!

Which brings me back to a conversation Linton and I were having yesterday. One of the biggest things that living in Australia has taught us is that we are "fortunate" in respect to our chosen geography back home. Though we have cold and snow and ice storms and the odd tornado or wind storm, by comparison, Toronto is a climatalogical centre of calm. Melburnians, and more specifically, people who live on the outskirts of Melbourne have just experienced horrendous bushfires, an unbearable heatwave, are in the middle of 12 years of drought, have stringent water restrictions, and the list goes on. By direct contrast, the people of Queensland and New South Wales are under water right now having received endless weeks of rain, storms and the odd cyclone. In addition, to those natural tragedies, not a week goes by without reading about shark attacks, deadly crocs, or snake bite victims. Last week, two people were attacked by sharks on Sydney beaches, a small boy was taken by a croc in Queensland, and a star athlete was in hospital with a deadly snake bite suffered his backyard. This country seems to bare its teeth every single day.

And it all seems to be happening with more frequency. That may be as a result of more people pushing into places where they didn't go before. It may also be that the world's climate is changing far more rapidly than our current lifestyle is willing to adapt. Or it just might be that even though people choose to live in challenging environments, they are not willing or don't know enough to give nature the respect it deserves. A case in point, would be the tragic story of the two brothers who climbed over a retaining rope at a glacier in New Zealand recently in order to get a better picture. They were both crushed to death when the glacier calved. Whatever is the reason or cause of all of this human tragedy, the experiences of Australians dealing with their climate and geography are teaching us about our own good fortune as well as the need to protect and conserve the resources we do have. No wonder Stephen Harper won't sign Kyoto, the nimrod has never tried to breathe in 46 degree heat! Why is it that we all fail to act until the devil is at the door?

On a happier note, a few other things have happened recently, in between the holidays and the bushfires, that missed the initial chance for a blog. Not wanting to miss the firm documentation of a single memorable Melburnian moment, herein lie a few more tasty morsels from some of our more recent adventures...

Melbourne Victory Game

A few weeks ago, Colin and I trammed our way down to the Telstra Dome - now the Docklands Stadium - to watch Melbourne's major soccer league team, the Victory, play host to the Central Coast Mariners. The dome is a fantastic and relatively new stadium with a natural turf field and retractable roof. We had great seats and watched the hosts thoroughly dominate the visitors 3-0. The whole experience had the same vibe as a Toronto FC game though perhaps a little more subdued as the 60 000 seat stadium was about one third full. The quality of soccer was excellent and Melbourne recently earned its place in the Grand Final two weeks from now. That's another distinct difference between Melbourne and Toronto is that there is always a team winning some sort of championship down here! Ouch. Anyway, a firm fourth behind Aussie rules, cricket, and rugby, soccer has a strong and loyal following and Australia is considering a serious bid for the 2018 World Cup.

Melbourne Symphony at the Sidney Meyer Bowl

Another great night out recently was the Saturday we spent at the concert bowl in Melbourne. Sponsored by one of Australia's great arts philanthropists, the free summertime concerts in the park have been a tradition for 50 years. The night's program was a series of four pieces - from Tchaikovsky to Rachmaninoff and from Mahler to Ravel. They were all chosen for their loose connection to love - it being Valentine's Day and all! We were told to arrive early and that we did getting a prime spot on the grass in the middle needing only to beat back the advances of one elderly couple to come up with it!

We were meeting up with some friends from the neighbourhood and once they arrived we settled in - serving up wine, cold steak, and other great munchies along with close to 13 000 other people! The kids did well and as long he could retreat under his sweatshirt for a little Nintendo fix from time to time, Allie was happy. It was all so civilized and free! People were allowed to bring in their own wine, as long as it could be argued that it was a "reasonable" amount, and we laughed as we watched the two "older" couples in front of us stumble through at least 4 bottles! This was a great way to expose the kids to some classical music as well as a cheap way to have a night out.

Carlton Blues Family Day

The following day we noticed a lot of cars and commotion along our street and decided to strap on our scooters and check it out. Turned out the Carlton Blues - our local AFL club - was hosting a family day at the stadium in Princes Park and 10 000 club supporters (and us) showed up for a chance to meet the players, get a few autographs and bounce in a jumping castle. Even though we would admit to being Hawthorn fans first, it was fun to soak up the vibe and enthusiasm of this oh-so-ever serious group of fanatics. Footy is a passion for most of Melbourne and big business for some of the country's richest people. We were impressed with everything about the day - except for Lint's 20 minute wait in the hot chip line!

Melbourne with mom and dad

My parents, Peter and Jane, arrived in Sydney in early January ready to tackle an amazing itinerary that would take them north into Queensland, back west to Alice Springs and Uluru, south to Adelaide and then east, with us, to Melbourne. By all accounts their first three weeks were a very satisfying and successful mix of resorts and hotels with a long list of sights in between. Highlights, we were told, included Sydney, snorkelling in and a helicopter ride over the Great Barrier Reef, a visit to a working cattle station, holding a koala, a wine tour of the Barossa valley - and of course hanging out with us for 8 days! Dunh! Between dodging the snow in Vancouver, the cyclones in Queensland and the heatwaves in Melbourne - they deserve a medal just for negotiating their way through all of the sketchy weather!

Picking up from our memorable journey along the Great Ocean Road, we had a great time together in Melbourne and despite the record breaking heat we remained quite busy. On their own, they bus-toured through the city and took a boat tour of the Yarra and Docklands. As well as a couple of busy and boiling days at the Australian Open, we had booked them into a fairly rigorous itinerary. One night we had a fun dinner with Simon and Alex Davies and their kids at our place - complete with 40 plus heat! Another day we hit our favourite Pizza joint not so much for the food but for the fact that they had AC! On a Saturday we strolled Southbank in search of bucket hats and indigenous art and then hit the aquarium to check in with the penguins. After walking the arcades, we visited the creepy but morbidly fascinating Melbourne Gaol and were `treated`to a play about the infamous Ned Kelly who was hanged there. Colin was pulled up from the audience to play a turn as Ned`s brother Dan and did a smashing job!

On the Sunday we wandered down to the MCG, recently voted as one of the seven sporting wonders of the world, to watch Victoria and South Australia battle it out on the cricket pitch for the Sheffield Shield. There are more ìmportant cricket matches and trophies over the course of an Australian summer than you can shake a cricket bat at, and I was glad mom and dad had a chance to see the MCG. They even sampled the meat pies at the `G`washing them down with a cold stubby of VB which, in my view, might be half way towards a proper Aussie christening! Kinda like kissing the cod back home. There was a grand total of about 200 people in the stadium which I believe can hold 100 000. Needless to say, we had good seats.

Another night saw the adults dining down on the beach in St Kilda at one of Melbourne`s finest - the Stokehouse restaurant - while the kids endured the joys of a babysitter. This was the best meal I have had in Australia and the sunset, as pictured, was one for all time.

On the Monday before mom and dad left, the adults again headed downtown to do a few museums that were not high on the kids`list and we were all pleasantly surprised by the State Museum of Victoria and especially the Immigration Museum of which Linton has already blogged. After a few more looks for art, I dragged us back through the endless arcades seeking the perfect lunch spot as everyone graciously indulged my need to dine with the ``in` crowd. Unfortunately, my choice and the food were forgettable. As mom and Lint headed back up town to pick up the kids from school, I took dad over to a Dan Murphy`s just in case he needed any more wine.

That night we dined chez nous which, as we all know, is always better and cheaper than anything you could ever buy. I spent some time convincing my mom why we needed to send an extra suitcase home with them full of Halloweèn decor and as we giggled about what the customs officers might have to say, we supped another great bottle of wine compliments of dad. It had been a whirlwind eight days together and so it was with quite a surreal sense of sadness we hugged goodbye, hardly able to believe what had been so long in coming, was so soon ended.

Not 48 hours later we got a call from Peterborough, Ontario, Canada saying that they and our styrofoam Halloweèn skulls were back home safe and sound in the land of snow and ice. From 43 above to 20 below and all with a smile on their face. I am so impressed they came all this way to see us and so grateful for the time we got to spend together; unbelievably, in Melbourne, Australia!

Great Ocean Road - Part III

I need to get back to our last holiday and take my mind off of the bushfires. That may be hard because one of our lunch stops on the way home from Adelaide - Waranambool - has apparently been affected. Everywhere you turn in this state, it seems they are still battling the flames and the fall out from Australia's worst peacetime disaster. The Royal Commisions are being established, arsonists are on the run, and people are becoming very angry...

Anyway, back to Adelaide. In the morning, mom and dad walked over to our very unique streetside hotel room on Franklin. Through some sort of miraculous feat of packing and people we managed to get all six of us and our bags, into the van and in relative comfort. We were destined for Robe, South Australia a mere 4 hours away and our route would take us back through Tailem Bend and then south down the coast. Climbing our way back out of Adelaide the van was full of chatter as the kids got caught up with Nana and Grampa. It was great to have mom and dad right there in the seats beside us and the sense of familiarity felt like home...which is not great when you're trying to drive on the other side of the road!

We stopped in a place called Meningie for coffee, scones and a stretch of the legs. Meningie is on the shores of a huge inland saltwater lake called Lake Albert. Shallow and murky it didn't look like a place you would want to swim but we walked a bit on the broad beach and marvelled at the view. After some great food but rather dour service, we were back in the van and heading south again speeding by endless scrub and flatlands with very little in the way to discern this hundred kms from the last. Lunch time found us in Kingston, a fairly remote seaside town nestled right on the Southern Ocean, and we all enjoyed a decent lunch beside what may have been the biggest lobster statue in the world - or at least the southern hemisphere! With all passengers seated in new positions we pushed on for Robe, rolling into the Robetown Motor Inn around 2:30. Interestingly, Robe was the jumping off point for a mass Chinese immigration during the Victorian goldrush as boats from China would land at Robe, in the state of South Australia, so that the workers would not have to pay a tax the state of Victoria demanded.

Feeling again a bit squeamish at the accommodations, or maybe it was the guy hacking butts outside our room 24/7, I was only too glad when we piled back into the van shortly after checking in and headed for Long beach to check out the boogie boarding and beach cricket potential. Happily, both were quite good though the water was churned up and felt a bit like we were swimming in spinach soup. Nonetheless, Colin caught some major waves and then retired to the cricket pitch to bowl some wicked yorkers to Nana and Grandpa. Great fun for all and despite a wonky back, Nana played wicket keeper with great aplomb. Grampa also managed to find a bit of his old school boy pace and form. Memorable stuff, indeed. Back at the motel, the kids had a dip in the pool while the adults threw a few steaks on the barbie. After a great dinner we were off to check out the local lighthouse and obelisk, catching a one-of-a-kind sunset.

With little time to explore the cafes and shops of Robe we were on the road early and before I could even get a decent cup of coffee! After stopping in Millicent for gas and cash I was still without a java by the time we rolled back through Mt. Gambier. Our first McD's wrong-sided drive thru experience in Oz quickly produced the necessary liquid gold and with my caffeine craving finally slaked we started working our way out of town and off to Waranambool - the scene of that pretty awesome park a few days earlier. Being Sunday, the park was a zoo (hardee-har), but the boys still managed to find their way onto the flying foxes for one more fling.

A very large part of the reason for this tour was to drive the Great Ocean Road with mom and dad and soon after lunch, we began to see the impressive coastline in all its glory. With the requisite stops at Martyrs Bay, the Grotto, London Bridge and the 12 Apostles, perfect weather gave our digital cameras a workout as we soaked up the unforgettable beauty. With a pit stop in Port Campbell for supplies and still buzzing with wonder at the views and the increasingly windy road we started the final leg to our Apollo Bay rental house.

Linton had found us a gorgeous place online located a few kilometres outside of Apollo Bay, set well up in the hills, and with a fantastic view looking back toward the ocean. It was a roomy but cosy spot to hang our sunhats for a day or two and came complete with an enormous projection screen, surround sound, stunning views, and a friendly pair of parrots. Though we were here for the scenery, as far as the kids were concerned, Transformers never looked or sounded so good! After a great pasta dinner and bottle of wine a la Grampa Peter, we were all in our happy place and looking forward to exploring the Apollo Bay area in the morning. As it was not perfect beach weather, we spent the next day walking in town, shopping for a few souvies, and then trekking out to the Cape Otway lighthouse where a climb to the top and a couple of roadside koalas were the highlight. Dinner was a lovely family meal at Chris's Restaurant, an area institution that hangs out high in the hills just outside Apollo Bay. Thanks, Dad!

With Melbourne now clearly in our sights, we packed up in the morning intent on making it to Lorne for another day of beach basking. Again the weather in Lorne cooperated and we lazed about the sand giving Nana and Grampa a good taste of what we had enjoyed so much just a few days prior. One more trip back to our favourite ice cream store for a taste of another kind (I think Alex had bubblegum with marshmallows and gummi bears) and then we were off winding our way back through Torquay and Geelong and finally back into Melbourne - excited and eager to share our adopted home with "the 'rents". Our third big Aussie adventure was over and our minds and mini-van were packed with the memories.

The Victorian Bushfire Tragedy

With the Victorian bushfire death toll now standing at 84 and counting, my earlier complaints about the heat suddenly feel hollow and a bit careless. All around Melbourne rural communities are burning or in some cases have been wiped out altogether. Upwards of 700 homes have been lost. Despite what seemed like reasonable time and warnings, people have been caught totally by surprise by the power, speed and intensity of these fires. Several of the communities we have driven through in our travels - Ballarat, Bendigo, Shepparton, Healesville, Warranambool and Warragul are under siege right now with fifty different fires burning in the state. Everyone is praying for rain, less wind and cooler conditions. The army has been called in to relieve the volunteer firefighters and emergency fund hotlines have been set up around the state. There are hourly updates, special reports and we are glued to it all.

Thankfully, we are comfortable in the relative calm and coolness of central Melbourne enjoying a gorgeous southerly breeze blowing in off Bass strait. But this disaster is still hitting pretty darn close to home. The proximity is certainly part of it. Some of these fires are only 50-60 kms away whereas bushfires in the past have seemingly only ever raged in far off California.They are also undoubtedly directly affecting the lives of people we have come to know, so that too is beginning to weigh. I was also thinking about an equivalent event occuring anywhere in Ontario taking 84 lives in one day and I cannot think of one in my lifetime. The power of that loss would be massive and gives one a sense of the scale of this disaster. The other thing of course is that in trying times, one likes to be surrounded by the people you love and for us, that's not quite an option. This is an unwanted and unexpected twist to our adventures abroad but it is also a real reminder that all around our little bubble life and death go on.

The heat is too much with us, late and soon

I had already documented the unbelievable Melbourne heat during the Australian Open but after today, I needed to write an addendum. The title of this entry is a borrowed and slightly altered line from one of my favourite poems by William Wordsworth. It, and the sentiment in the poem, seemed appropriate.


So we were again a part of history in Melbourne today as the mercury topped out at 46.4 Celsius. It could not have been more gross and everywhere we looked and listened Melburnians were hunkering down for the worst. Premier Brumby was on record calling it the "worst day in our history".

The day started out innocently enough with people out and about and carrying on around 8:00 am. Joggers were jogging, dogs were walking their owners, and dutiful dads were strolling their newborns down the street while mom got a few more winks. I was also up and at'tem, watering our front and back gardens in the hope that I might prevent anymore carnage. Both gardens are on their way to becoming stand-ins for the Gobi desert. Without rain "tank water" the water restrictions are such that it is virtually impossible to keep a garden green or even brown. But, like the dutiful tenant that I am, I was doing my best. The plants seemed happy to see me.


Two hours later the streets were abandoned. By 10:30 the wickedly warm northwinds had picked up and things began to get more than a little toasty. The wind is so bizarre in its strength - in terms of both velocity and warmth. At home, a hot day usually involves very little wind as you bake in the calmness and crave a nice breeze. Here the wind is very strong but the gusts seem hotter than the actual sun. It's like trying to breathe in a convection oven on broil. Soon we were turning out the lights and I was stringing up a sheet over our back doors to try to keep direct sunlight out. With power outages a real certainty we began filling water bottles and thinking about contingency plans, food, and flashlights. It was going to be a day of reading, computer games, videos and lots and lots of Lego! It would also be clothing optional.


Courageously Linton and Colin traipsed down to the local tennis courts (fully clothed!) for the start of his lessons only to be informed by a small sign and the gathering dust storms that tennis would resume on a cooler day. Once they were back in our little bunker, we cranked up the fans and watched the temperature climb. Another incredible part of this Melbourne heat is just how fast it can change, for better or worse. At noon it was 34 and by three it was 46! And the weather office had it all down to the hour. Remarkably, as a result of a mysterious 120 degree change in wind direction, the temperature had dropped again to 30 by 6:00pm and without a massive thunderstorm to clear the way. This blast was intense but thankfully brief.


If this whole year is a test of the family compact in terms of exposure, then a hot day in a tiny house only serves to increase that potentially strained dynamic. I thought we all did remarkably well. The kitchen was practically off limits due to the heat so we made do with fruit and cold cuts. We read and watched movies, played a few games, had a cold shower or two and simply tried to avoid any unnecessary movement. There were moments of frustration and restless boredom but when we did happen to poke our heads out the door, the inferno racing down our street made indoors seem like paradise. It was simply one of those moments where you knew that your fate and the weather was beyond your control and to resist or pretend otherwise was futile - and sweat inducing! Outdoors was just not an option. As Linton remarked, you know it's hot when it's too hot to go the pool.


As I write, it's a relatively pleasant 30 and going down, with a prediction of 19 overnight and 25 tomorrow. On Sunday, I am sure, it will seem like it never happened. Fortunately, living in the middle of the city, we have been spared the power outages, highway closures, brush fires etc. that much of the state has been plagued with. But record setting heat like we experienced today, just like bare ski hills might at home, suggest to me that there must be something to this global warming thing. And so, as Wordsworth wrote (and I am paraphrasing) in the same poem I quoted above, I hope that we haven't spent too much time "Getting and spending, and [laying] waste our powers" so that more of us might again be "moved" to see not "little" but all "in Nature that is ours". This kind of heat is simply unnatural!

Thoughts on living "away"... and returning home

Linton here - I realize it is time that I posted a blog entry now that we are more than half way through our year away. I have had many realizations in the past few months. Some deeper and less obvious than others...but here goes and I am warning you now, I am nowhere near the writer James is...

When my in-laws, Jane and Peter, were here we went to the Immigration Museum. It's a fascinating place that creatively tells the story of Australian immigration over the last 2 centuries. And it reminded me that immigration is not just something people did last century. It's happening all the time; in fact, similiar to Canada, one in four people living in Australia now were not born here. I loved this museum for many reasons but mostly because it struck a chord within me about living "away". The opening line in the first exhibit was something like "Deciding to leave the place where you have grown up is one of the hardest decisions of your life". Aha. This is why people kept saying to us how adventurous we were to be leaving Toronto. The exhibit went on to say "Immigrants have to essentially start their life over again, setting themselves up, initiating friendships and creating a new 'family' and framework for themselves in their new location." Now that I am living through a bit of that, I can relate and have a new appreciation for immigrants all over the world. I certainly know, and was educated by the Immigration Museum, that most people who immigrate are doing so merely to survive or to avoid or escape political differences, war or natural disasters. I know we are so lucky to be able to choose to live in another country just because we were curious or were seeking a new experience/location to study at. But despite all the privilege that we have, it isn't easy living in a place where you virtually know no one and with which you have no history. It takes proactivity and optimism to be successful no matter who you are and where you have decided to live. Don't get me wrong, it has been an amazing year so far and we have met great people and had amazing travels/adventures; but it will be nice to get home to friends, family, our own house, a car and to a city that we know. I feel privileged to be able to experience this year as a temporary citizen and to not have to worry about how much more challenging it might be if we were settling here indefinitely or had been forced to come.

This theme struck me as well when I was in Hong Kong visiting my cousin, Sheila. Sheila and her family have lived in Hong Kong for 13 years now. They only planned on living there for a few years but have stayed because it was advantageous to do so from a career and lifestyle perspective. Still they talk of returning to Canada. I met a ton of their friends (all expats) who had done the same thing. Really amazingly educated, personable and fun people from all over the world who had all decided to leave their family and friends behind in pursuit of a different (and maybe better) life experience for themselves and their spouse/kids. This got me wondering - Are there only certain types of people who will risk and choose to move away from home? Am I one of those people? Why or why not?

Those people that know my family know that my sister Sarah has lived in Johannesburg for almost 15 years now. She initially chose to leave Toronto to be able to pursue her career to the fullest and then stayed when she fell in love and has been the CBS African bureau chief for 12 years. Right now she is spending four months in Vancouver as a CanWest visiting journalism professor at UBC. She is one of two international journalists that was awarded with this fellowship - very proud of her! It will be very interesting to get her impressions of being back in Canada after so very long and discover how she feels to be back even for a short amount of time.

Technology, specifically Facebook, has been an important tool for me living "away" and I am grateful that I live in an age where this is available to me. This technology and other social networking sites unite people from all over the world who are interesting in connecting. I know, I know - it is not for everyone, but this year, it is certainly for me!! I love the fact that I can stay in touch with family/friends so easily. I love that I have two new friends in Melbourne who are ex-Torontonians who found me through Facebook and that I get travel advice from friends all over the world. I also love the fact that I can tell James that there has been a significant Canadian news story/event (parliament proroguing, snowstorms) before he reads the Globe online because someone has commented on it through their Facebook status. Technology has made this year easier for me because at any time of the day/night, I can see who is on Facebook or Skype and connect with them.

So upon reflection of the whole "going away for a year" thing, it has been totally worthwhile but a ton of work - luckily I like being busy. Just to actually execute the logistics of removing ourselves from our Canadian life and establishing oursleves in Melbourne was a feat in itself. To survive the first few months, ensure the boys were settled at school, make new friends and create a life for us here has been the next hurdle. Incredibly, we are now facing the last half of the adventure and we are conscious of maximizing the remainder of our trip but at the same time not wanting to return home with a mountain of debt. As we dare to look a little further down the road, we are even starting to think about and plan for how we will resume our "normal" lives as smoothly as possible back in Toronto. This requires us to transition back into our Toronto existence - move our belongings back into our house, find a childcare arrangement for the kids, change back all our insurance, utilities, bills, finance....get the kids back into their activities, etc, etc. In essence, a reverse immigration.

There are also many things that will be different upon our return - I will hopefully have a new job (anyone offering?), James will have a new bigger job at school, we will be very broke, some friends will have bigger families or some may have moved away, Canada will be in a recession, the list goes on. But what I can't really anticipate is how I/our family will feel when the novelty of being back is over. Will I have satisfied my need for travel and new adventures? Will I yearn to be a stay at home mom again? Will the kids be happy picking up where they left off at school and with friends? Time will tell. But in the meantime, I am going to enjoy these last few months while they last - as a lucky, grateful guest of this wonderfully welcoming country.

P.S. - I have just finished The Book of Negroes, which I highly recommend. In it, the main character, Meena, an African girl brought over to North America as a slave in the eighteenth century, spends most of her life trying to return back to Africa to her village and "her people". She eventually does end up returning to Africa but once there, realizes that her experiences abroad have shaped who she is and what is important, not where she is from. She has changed and so has her homeland.