Sept 25-26 Airlie Beach and the Whitsunday Islands

Today was scheduled to be our longest day of driving yet so we tried to get up and on the road “earlyish”. The only advice that the girl back at the Apollo Van HQ had given us when asked about tips for driving was” Don’t drive at dawn or dusk”. We presume that’s because of the animals, and judging by the number of crosses we have seen dotting the highway ( I would say I have seen at least 50 impromptu memorials) there are definitely some dangers to be heeded. The other thing they seem to have an obsession with is sleepy drivers. You can’t go 5kms without being reminded to “Break the drive and survive” and “Rest or R.I.P.” It is unbelievable! Frankly, I’ve been white-knuckling the steering wheel so badly I can’t possibly imagine falling asleep. Anyway, the signs and the memorials are enough to freak this Young Driver of Canada right out.

Our route was to continue to down the Bruce Highway and if all went according to plan we would be pulling into the Adventure Whitsunday Big 4 Caravan Park in Airlie Beach around 4:30. We broke the drive up into three 2 hour sections with our first stop being a picnic ground and information kiosk outside the village of Ayr. There was a humongous snake sculpture here that the boys climbed all over marking the graves of some aboriginal remains. It was an odd spot for a grave and a huge snake, but then I am sure it made complete sense to those in the know. After the ubiquitous ham sandwich and a pee, we packed up and headed on down the highway for a few more hours of beautiful mountains, rolling pastures, sugar cane fields, and road trains bearing down my backside with complete contempt for my desperate but useless attempts at driving the speed limit. After knocking off 200 more of the best kms the road could offer, we pulled over for gas (the second fill up of the day but a relative bargain at $96.00) and Skittles and then we were off again keen to see the ocean which for a road that seems to hug the coastline is a rare sight. An hour and half later I was needing a jolt of caffeine so we detoured into Bowen (thought of Tim) and looked for anything but a latte. Little did we know there would be a Toy World!!! Well, we loaded up with a boogie board and a beach soccer ball and a couple of small toys, a little ice cream and a long black – adding our own 2 cents to the Bowen economy. Then finally we were toodling back down A1 and into Airlie Beach after more than 6 hours of driving and almost exactly 500 kms.

Upon arriving in the town we did a quick tour to get our bearings and so that Linton could show me where she and the girls had partied hard 20 years ago – Magnums she thinks! Airlie looks like a fun place and definitely seems to have a beachy attitude and we hoped to come back in town to stroll the strip at some point. But for now it was time to get off the road and head back to the Big 4! Though not on the beach, this was a fantastic site for kids. A huge jumping pillow, great pool with water slides, 18 hole mini-putt, pedal go karts, outside movies – this place had it all and the boys had done most of it within an hour of our arrival. The system that we have started to develop is to have one parent take the boys off to swim while the other arranges dinner or whatever. It is a system born of necessity as there is just not enough room for the four of us to all manoeuvre in the camper at the same time. The beauty of this place was that it also allowed for both boys to have a little freedom and autonomy. Colin rented golf clubs from the front desk by himself and both of them ran off to play golf (mini-putt) all by themselves! Better yet they retuned happy and unscathed with no one having wrapped a golf club around the neck of the other. It’s incredible what your kids can do when you trust them to do the right thing! Our plan for Airlie Beach was to go for a full cruise through the Whitsunday Islands so after a full dinner and a movie under the stars – Ratatouille for the umpteenth time – we headed to bed quite happy with the play and the pavement we had put behind us.

On any sunny day, this day might have taken me to some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen anywhere – but unfortunately our Whitsunday cruise day was overcast , rainy, and perhaps worst of all – windy! We took a shuttle bus down to Abel Point where the tour boats depart on a number of different island and reef-hopper tours where people can snorkel, scuba dive, and generally explore the Great Barrier Reef. The trip we had booked was a full day 3 island tour which included snorkelling, an underwater observatory, glass bottom boat, Whitehaven beach (world famous), lunch, and time on the resort at Daydream island. Our boat was a sleek twin hull 65 footer that could do 23 knots opened up and even with both engines roaring it took us about 50 minutes to get to our first island called Hook Island. Despite the weather, we were all very keen to get out on the water and see the reef!

But first a word about sea sickness. Even before we had left the dock the crew had mentioned the fact there would some rough seas ``out there`` and we were advised to take drugs if we had them. Well, we had them and we took them and I am very glad we did because it was rough! There was a point between our first and second stops as we came around a point and into the open ocean where the boat must have dropped 20 feet. I would love to exaggerate and say they were 4 storey waves or something like that – suffice to say they were the biggest darn waves I have ever fallen down the other side of and never before with both throttles stuck on full. The happy end of the story was that none of us were ill, though many were including the petite Japanese woman who was green before we cast off and spent the entire cruise with a bag under her chin.

Hook Island was really cool with an underwater marine observatory, glass bottom boat, fish feeding and snorkelling to be had. We did it all with the exception of Al, though he walked right up to the water’s edge intending to try, taking a pass on the snorkelling. Thanks to Linton’s kind offer to stay with Alex, Colin and I had a glorious 30 minutes of snorkelling over the Great Barrier Reef hand in hand. I must say if it hadn’t fogged up my mask I would have shed a tear – most certainly one of the highlights of the trip for me. Soon we were drying off and hopping back on board our boat heading out to the next stop – Whitehaven beach – renowned for being one of the most beautiful in the world.

This is the part of the journey where we weathered the really stormy seas and we were all quite happy to see the white sand of the beach come into view. Unfortunately, due to the weather the beach was not quite in its glory. The combination of clouds, wind, and a few conservationists asking people to fill out a survey (seriously!) put a small damper on the beautiful surroundings. Still, we all disembarked the boat, somewhat like an Allied invasion and had over an hour of time to explore, swim, play cricket, and just hang out on the nicest sand I have ever felt squish between my toes.

Soon we were wading out to the boat in waist deep water negotiating the perilous re-boarding of the bucking bronco that had recently been our boat. Thanks to a very wet and skilled crewman we were soon all safely back onboard and steaming toward our third and last port of call – Daydream Island. On our way there we passed the uber-luxurious Hamilton Island where Jackie Stewart and George Harrison have kept houses and where at one particular seaside villa they charge you $6000 per night!!! We rounded a point and dropped some guests off at another secluded and very cool looking beachside resort and then pulled into Daydream Island which is a sort of mini-Fantasy Island catering to wealthy couples who want to do something different for their wedding or holiday. We dropped a few dollars in the gift and ice cream shops, had a play on some cool climbers and then did a neat hike, surprisingly at Allie’s suggestion, that got us back just in time for departure. Another 25 minutes speeding back across the now siginificantly calmer Whitsunday channel and we were back in Abel Point.

Unfortunately, the rough travels did not quite end for me there. Needing food and dinner and maybe a few frosty cold beverages I jumped off our shuttle bus at the local mall and went directly to foraging for food like a good parent should. I was making record time and all the right moves until I decided to hail a cab at the taxi stand. Almost 1 hour later!!!! I managed to convince an elderly local woman to share her cab with me and so I arrived back at the Caravan Park – ever more tired with cold pizza, warm beer, and a slow burn on for the Airlie Beach taxi fleet. Of course, when the nice woman accosted the driver for the lack of service his response was more or less the mumbled equivalent of “No worries, mate” or Sheila or whatever the female equivalent to mate is. There is certainly an element of “Island time” to be found in pockets of this great country and continent. Yet all of our adventures and experiences in Airlie Beach – the wind, the waves, the taxis - only made us more eager for what would unfold for us the next day – after we closed our eyes, keeping one foot on the floor to stop the camper from spinning - shortly after 9 o’clock!

Sept 21-24 From Cairns to Mission Beach to RollingStone

I think I have discovered the real reason why we’re here. In Australia that is. It’s 8:10 pm. I have a glass of red wine in my hand, the iPod on, and there’s a cool breeze rolling in off the Coral Sea – which is a mere 40 metres away. The kids and Linton are curled up in our Apollo Camper van watching a video. Full bellies, tons of surf, sand, sun...Unbelievably we are somewhere along the coast of Queensland, Australia at the front end of 13 days of camping and driving over 2000 kms from Cairns to Brisbane. As bizarre as it seems and as out of our element as it seems, life could simply not be better.

I am sitting here trying to recall the last few days having had a little bit too much sun and red wine – indeed it’s all been a bit of a blur. We left Melbourne around 4:00 pm on the 21st flying Jet Star, Qantas’ discount airline to Cairns. There were the usual economy airline issues, including holding the entire plane up while they found seats for us, but we arrived safely in Cairns three and a bit hours later having flown 2300kms to Northern Queensland and the home of the Great Barrier Reef.

We weren’t picking up our van, or as they say in Oz - our caravan, until Monday morning so we stayed in the Queenslander Motor Inn for the night. A decent little 3 star place in the middle of Cairns – all we really needed and with a great little pool that the kids just loved...Sorry, Dave Matthews Crash into Me just came on the ipod – I will be right back... Okay, I’m back. Anyway, we dined at an amazing Malaysian restaurant 2 blocks from the motel – The Bay Leaf I think it was called. They kept the kitchen open for us and we had beautiful sates, nasi goring and Linton and I toasted the start of the trip with two of the best tasting Coronas ever.

The night was uneventful other than a busload of partying scuba divers coming back from the bars at 1:00pm coinciding with the kids’ need to pee and have a glass of water. When morning broke, far too early, the kids were back in the pool and we were paying extortion-like prices for a coffee and some toast. We packed up early, which was clearly not to Alex’s liking – he figured we had got our hotel, our pool – we were good-to-go for the balance of the 2 weeks! Ooops! How we continually forget to think like the mind of a very quick and stubborn six-year old! As the taxi pulled up to take us to the rental depot he was inconsolable – why did we need to leave a perfectly good room, pool, ??! He had no concept of the beautiful mind-blowing scenery we were planning to see. Why would he? He could not have cared less. Note to self. When planning trips that you think will alter your child’s entire world view and stand as a cornerstone to their whole sense of self for the rest of their lives – be ready for a 3 star motel swimming pool in the middle of Cairns fully trump your ace.

Still doing that sort of sobbing-sniffling thing, we pulled into the Apollo rental place and signed on about 10 dotted lines for the right to become trailer trash. Well, not really but if I said that we knew what we were getting ourselves into that would be a complete lie. What we did get was a four berth diesel five speed camper complete with toilet, shower, stove, fridge, a/c, dvd player and tv. A sweet ride really. Now all I needed to do was drive the damn thing.

Now this was going to be a bit of a turning point in our whole year for me – the driving. I had had many thoughts about how I would fare and here was about to be my moment to shine or fail miserably – on the left side of the road, the left side of the vehicle with the added bonus of a manual transmission with the left hand in something the size of a budget cube van. On top of that as I soon found out – the main highway south from Cairns, in fact the national highway(!) – the Bruce Highway – is little more than a decent cottage road in rural Ontario. There are often no shoulders and a 10 foot drop on either side and many, many rigs or road trains as they call them which made me grip the wheel at 3 and 9 just like Young Drivers of Canada had taught me, a little tighter. But more about the driving later.

After a thorough walk and talk through, learning how to dispose of our grey water and black water and how not to drain the battery or blow the whole thing sky high, we were off. Well, off for all of about 2 minutes to the local IGA actually. In that brief commute, I managed to negotiate one roundabout without killing us all or grinding the gears or stalling the thing outright. My mother would be so proud as memories of learning how to drive stick in the K-mart parking lot – stalling out that fancy Ford Probe – came flooding back with every lurching gear change. We loaded up on the essentials, including Tim Tams, Doritos, and all of the ingredients necessary for some killer vodka tonics and then gingerly headed out down the road, out of Cairns, and south bound to amazing places yet discovered.

Having been in these parts almost 20 years ago, Linton had booked us into Big 4 Caravan Parks in places and on beaches that weren’t too far to drive to and would be fun for the kids. So our first destination was a place called Mission Beach. Well, South Mission Beach actually and a Caravan Park called the Coconut Beachcomber – altogether about 160 kms of driving. A short distance made longer by the amount of road work, the general state of repair of the roads, the several and very long sugar cane trains (“Hauling cane!)” that cut across the highways, and the frequent oohing and awing at the amazing scenery going by. The boys were great - and sequestered to their little car seats in the back of the camper with no control over time, destiny, or anything else – they did well to keep their “Are we there yets?” to a minimum.

About 1.5 hours later and desperate for a picturesque moment around every corner, we “negotiated” getting off the beaten track and headed toward the ocean and a place called Bramston Beach for lunch. I was fully not into the diversion until we rounded the bend and saw the ocean...wow...though I think a stronger word came to mind. Crashing surf, islands on the horizon, beach as far as the eye could see...this was a good diversion. The boys went for an improvised swim as did I as I became increasingly concerned about the strength of the surf and after hauling everybody out – we had a Spartan but tasty lunch of salami sandwiches on the beach. After a quick change we were back on the road and again headed for South Mission Beach.

Speeding past miles and miles of sugar cane fields and banana plantations was eye-opening enough but we added to that - mountains, rainforest, the ocean, many many dried out river beds and some seriously challenging roads and there was no shortage of things to consider. As we got closer to our destination, we began to see signs for Cassowary crossings and Cassowary reserves as well as signs to keep our speed down because “Speed kills Cassowaries”. I’m pretty sure speed kills most things. In this case, the creature in question is a sort of prehistoric emu that clearly proves the link between birds and dinosaurs. This thing is butt ugly and truly a freak of nature, but also quite endangered so we were asked to take it easy and try not to bump one off. Frankly, every single car and truck we saw on the road had a “’Roo Catcher” attached to its grill and I figured if anything like a kangaroo or cassowary jumped in front our rental caravan, given the option of ditch or road train or cassowary – the bird would be buying the farm. Incidentally, we saw many grisly road kills in the form of former kanagaroos, about as frequently as you would see raccoons flattened on the side of a Canadian road. The problem with kangaroos is they can be about 10 times the size of a raccoon and would do some serious damage to our cute little camper van if we were to meet head on! Thankfully, there were no cassowaries or ‘roos to be hit or seen and we were soon turning into the first trailer park this guy has ever stayed in. I was looking forward to sporting a “wife-beater” and a perpetual rum and coke. (For the fans of The Trailer Park Boys)

Situated mere metres from the ocean the Coconut Beachcomber Caravan Park caters to families and retirees alike and it would seem the caravan using public comes in all shapes and sizes and with all manner of agendas. From fishing to cycling to swimming to relaxing people are all geared to living life at a relaxed pace and enjoying time with family and friends...oh, and having a few/many pints as well. It is hard to walk by any site without hearing the familiar clink of ice in a cooler or the snap of a cold beer tab being pulled. These Aussies like their drinks! The rigs are incredibly impressive with many people running tv antennas and flat screen tvs out of these tiny trailers that unfold into a hundred different rooms and compartments like some sort of origami tonka toy. People come fully prepared as if the game plan for going camping is to see how much you can make camp feel just like home. There are central laundry facilities and washrooms and hydro and water for all sites and if you can handle living within spitting distance of your neighbour with everyone having paper thin walls then it can be downright comfy.

The kids were swimming in the ocean within minutes of our arrival on what we thought to be one of the nicest beaches we had ever seen. Soft light brown sand stretching for miles in both directions. The tide was high but the break was gentle and they played and played until pruny. I should mention that this part of the country during the months of October to May are bad for jellyfish – particularly nasty jellyfish (the box jellyfish and one other I can’t pronounce) who can kill you if you are unlucky enough to be stung. That is part of the reason we are here now – to avoid the jelly season. They also string nets along some of the more popular beaches making them relatively safe to swim in. There are also vinegar supplies and first aid instructions on most beaches.

After swimming we settled in to a steak dinner and a movie – The Rescuers Down Under, of course and then proceeded to figure out how we turned a kitchen table into a double bed. Linton and I had toasted our success with a few glorious vodka tonics and by the time the movie was done and teeth were brushed, we were all quite ready to hit the hay – entirely pleased that we had moved ourselves down the Queensland coast line without incident, thus beginning the 10 day odyssey of kids, kms, and our kozy little kamper van!


Well, as Macbeth once uttered, “Twas a Rough Night”. New beds (actually a bed that is normally a table), strange sounds - very close, kids up in the middle of the night for water and peeing...actually felt just like home. Eager to get to the very cool pool, complete with slide and life-size crocodile, the kids wolfed down some Froot Loops (ahh yes, the breakfast of champions and caravans apparently!) and we were off to rip the seal off that pool the minute it opened. 45 minutes later and we were off to the beach to run and frolic (there is no better word) in the waves of low tide. With virtually no one on the beach this was a morning that was hovering very close to paradise. Needless to say it was quite difficult to pull them off the beach and get them ready for the next leg of our journey. Just watching the boys run, splash, and play aimlessly in the warm safe water was mesmerizing. So rare is the time we have to truly play without agenda. But this was it.

After getting the van squared away with all of the water drained, plugs unplugged, and hatches battened down we soon headed back down the road to our next Big 4 Caravan site – believe it or not the Rolling Stone Caravan Park about 3 hours down the road. Once again the scenery was gorgeous, the roads somewhat treacherous, and the driving getting more and more comfortable with every klick that zipped by.

Though we were a rolling lunch stop, we needed some gas and a few extra supplies that we hadn’t picked up in Cairns and so we stopped in Ingham to shop at the local Woolworths – which in Australia is akin to an IGA or Dominion. The gas was a shocker as we filled up for a mere $110.00 -diesel was a bargain at $1.65/litre! Stop complaining Canada! A Subway lunch, which is a mirror to any Subway at home was a welcome and familiar respite and we were then off down the road to try to find our next camp site.

It’s quite an experience as you roll into each place – tired of the road and eager to see what this resort offers in terms of amenities, sites, pool, and beach. Though the first few klics off the highway seemed a bit dodgy, this spot will forever be memorable for the beach – because we were almost parked on it! Mere metres from the roar of the wind and surf, this was an exceptional spot, with a huge pool complete with cave and waterfall, as well as some huge fish in a pond that the kids could feed with food supplied in the office. The beach wasn’t perfect for swimming but Colin loved looking for shells and we had to work hard to get Allie out of the pool that came complete with cave and waterfall. We also met a friendly retired couple who gave some sage advice about things to see and offered to show us their recent pictures of travels in the Outback. Perhaps the video show went on a few minutes too long, but I would say this was our first of many friendly encounters with fellow travellers who are interested in our trip and larger journey from Canada. They even loaned us a spare hose fitting which turned out to be an essential piece of equipment.

A good pasta dinner accompanied by that red wine I mentioned at the beginning of this lengthy blog and we were all off to bed content in the knowledge that the first few days had not been a fluke and that we were starting to get kinda good at this caravan thing.

The Winnebago has Landed!

We have just returned from 13 great days touring the east coast of Queensland - a journey that saw us drive 2300kms from Cairns to Byron Bay. I will chronicle our travels in a series of blogs posted over the next few days. We are tired and already thinking about school and school and work but not only was this the longest trip/vacation we have taken as a family it was also the best! Blog to you soon.

Spiders and Campers and Queensland, Oh My!

At one of my early orientation sessions, the presenter decribed the experience of moving to Melbourne as an international student as having four stages: 1) The honeymoon - everything is new, different, and better. 2) Grieving - nothing is new, everything is different, and worse 3) Acceptance - you accept the good with the bad 4) Integration - you begin to change the way you live to fit in to the surroundings. Well, if that is accurate, then I am officially declaring the honeymoon over!

I don't know if it's all in our heads as we eagerly anticipate our 2 week vacation, but the last couple of days have felt like we all needed a good vacation. The walls of our home have gotten a little tighter, the boys have seemed a little bored, mom and dad have become a little grumpy and things have just been a little...bizarre.

I think it all might have started with the visitor we had on our screen door the other night (as pictured) - biggest spider I have ever seen that wasn't sitting on a dock in cottage country. Some sort of omen of the arachnid type? Since then the boys have finished a very good term at school, (ten whole weeks!) and they have also finished their futsal, tennis, and gymnastics programs. I have completed half a semester of my courses and continue to work and read my way toward completing two rather lengthy essays. Though it currently feels like I am running in sand. And Linton, has officially and very sucessfully completed the bit of consulting work she was doing. Things have therefore come to a very natural and welcome end...

So now what? Well, that's what seems to have been going on in our heads the last few days. While everything continues to be great, the little things have started to rear their ugly heads in a way we had not noticed before. For example: I think I am officially tired of taking the tram. After giving it a charitable two months we have officially decided that the television in this country is truly abysmal. The weather continues to stymy any sort of planning with rain, sun, cloud, rain, wind all possible within 20 minutes of each other. I don't need another latte, ever. The fashion in Australia continues to boggle the mind, with young guys seemingly quite keen on reincarnating the Bay City Rollers look, and...well, you get the picture. You know you need a holiday when someone's jumper bugs you! Now I know that all of this is petty and dumb, but I also think, according to my orientation session, it is a natural part of the process one goes through when trying to "unlearn" one culture and adopt a new one. You get to a point where you just get a little tired of trying to make sense of it all.

In the mean time we continue to have fun: Thursday night we were at a Wall E movie fundraiser for the kids school; Linton met another expat the other day for coffee to share and compare their experiences with the Melbourne way of life; we've had a few more playdates, we met a very nice neighbour who volunteered her daughter as a babysitter (whoohooo!), AND biggest and best of all we are packing tonight for a 2 week holiday in Queensland - over 1800kms and 24 hours of driving in a Winnebago with many, many great beaches along the way!

As much I am a little bit curious, okay nervous, as to how we will all manage in a 3m x 6m camper for 12 days, I think we all need this. We need to get out and explore this great country and to start to realize the pay off for all of our recent hard work. Having completed almost a quarter of our great Oz odyssey we are now going to take the adventure to the next level, moving (quite thankfully) out from behind the screen door and the little things that are bugging us and into the world where the real, big, and exciting adventures (and spiders) await!

Against a Google Earth World View

In an article I am currently reading for my course on Organisational Learning, the comparison is made between looking at a map in order to appreciate a certain place versus actually finding your way, footstep after faltering footstep, over the same piece of real estate. The author’s contention is that reading a map is no substitute for an actual journey over the same ground. A map inevitably smooths over “the myriad decisions made with regard to changing conditions: diversions, parades...personal fatigue, conflicting opinions...inaccuracies on the map, and the like.” He goes on to argue that it is in the doing, the act of making knowledge real by our direct experience with it, that humans are best able to learn. It is similar to the “show don’t tell” philosophy of writing and I couldn’t agree more. However, the problem is, as with any real journey, that it takes time.

Admittedly this is not a revelation I may have come to, at least with the same depth of understanding and conviction, unless I also had the time do so. By shuffling off to the land down under, Linton and I have not only built an experience of immediate returns – such as suntans and surf lessons. We have also plunked the family down into a place far enough away from our “real” lives that we (quite unwittingly) have also made a glorious investment in the precious commodity of time. We continually find ourselves (often over a bottle of cheap Aussie plonk) thrust into highly revealing dialogues about the fresh possibilities that life has begun to offer us – conversational places we may never have discovered hunkered down at work and without the freedom of a few more ticks of time.

However, in these troubled times and with the markets spiralling into the abyss, there can be a periodic spark of self-conscious guilt that flashes to the surface, suggesting we should perhaps stop spending money and time and get back to the serious business of making money, investing sensibly, hedging our funds, buying low – selling high, and whatever else it is the self-proclaimed “experts” would have us do. However, recent events make the hypocrisy of that industry stink so much that it might be very hard to take the more "economical" approach to life seriously ever again. But I'm wasting time with that - so I'll move on.

It's amazing that even with the mere suggestion of work– and Linton has been living it with her overseas consulting work – the old evils of stress, time, money, and management – creep back into the frame, clouding what was previously so clear and cloudless. Where once there was time to wander Melbourne, now we must juggle the journeying against the reality of conference calls and report writing. It’s no wonder then that we all live such digitally dictated lives. We’re convinced, in large part due to an apparent lack of time, that it’s the only way we can remotely experience such a technically advanced world and still live the lifestyle to which we have become accustomed. Indeed, Google Earth tells us that the world is there to be mapped - but what good is that knowledge without the humanizing context of physical experience to show us how hard or great it is to actually clamber over it?

I am now rolling my eyes at the righteous and self-serving sanctimony wrapped up in my own reflections. As if we don’t all know this at some point even in the busiest times of life and of course, one need not uproot one’s entire family in order to appreciate this fact. It’s just that, for me, these things have only been allowed to surface and smack the sweeter – because today, right now, in Melbourne, I have time. The time to wander - to pitch the map, turn off the computer, walk out the door, and consider what today is capable of teaching me. It’s like the smoker who is finally able to quit for good because his heart has convinced his mind that it’s the right thing to do – it’s only when we live our convictions and pry ourselves out of our routines – that we are truly capable of real learning, real discovery, out on the open road of life. I can only hope the good people at Google will never try to sell me that.

Spring has Sprung!

The best day yet in terms of weather greeted us on Saturday - warm enough for James to air his pasty white legs in shorts and hit the jogging oval once again. We were up to all of the usual stuff - tennis, gymnastics, jogging, playdates, and birthday parties with some footy playoff games thrown in for good measure. At tennis, Colin has advanced to the next level - needing as his instructor said, "A little more of a challenge". In gymnastics, Alex earned a certificate for his good work on rings and things. In jogging, James earned a few more blisters and some sore knees. Linton took the morning "off" having done her good deed for the year on Thursday volunteering at a district track meet - which the kids weren't even at!!!

Alex had a great playdate with his friend James who seems to be able to talk the language of Pokemon better than his parents could ever hope to. While Al was jumping on James' trampoline and bragging about his level 46 Palkia, Colin, Linton, and the other James walked up Royal Parade to Sydney Road to check out some shops and a section of the city we hadn't seen. There are literally miles and miles of shops and restaurants stretching in every direction in this city- with a hotel/bar and betting booth on almost every corner. I would be in deep, deep doo doo if I were a betting man here in Oz! Apparently, as the name suggests, one could get on Sydney Road and keep driving north until you hit Sydney 12 hours later. Reminds me of Yonge Street...at least in terms of its lengthy claim to fame.

We picked Allie up, and had a quick visit and latte with James's parents, and then waved goodbye to Colin who drove off into the night with a friend to go to another birthday party at the Melbourne Aquatic Centre. I could be wrong about this but it seems like Aussie's are a little more low key about kids birthdays - which is not a bad thing at all! Low key events, modest loot bags, and a lot of physical activity.

Sunday was a day of sightseeing, but after last week's marathon bus extravaganza we thought we might give the kids and our wallets a break as we trammed down to the Royal Botanical Gardens to walk among the spring flowers. Lovely day and we had a nice tea by the Ornamental lake with black swans and the eels! Then we were off to a really cool childrens' garden that Toronto could do very well to copy. Big, clean, full of indigenous plants and a natural play area - where kids can safely explore and have fun in a wide variety of environments. No teeter totters, slides, or climbers. Just grasses, trees, boardwalks, trails, and water. The Brick works or the new waterfront development would be ideal for something like this.

After several good sprints around the trails of the kids garden and a spirited visit to the Garden gift shop (of course!), we headed out of the park walking past many impressive war memorials and statues, the National Gallery, and an outdoor local artisans market. We strolled along Southbank and the Yarra river, past places we have now seen a few times but are nonetheless pretty or spectacular or pretty spectacular. An almost guilt-free gnosh at Mickey D's got us ready for another stop at the Aquarium to re-acquaint oursleves with the leafy sea dragons, 7-gill sharks, and all the other cool stuff we hadn't seen the first time. A bonus of today's visit was watching divers feed the sharks and rays in the tank! We trammed home on a new route, all the way up Elizabeth to Princes Park and then the short walk home.

The flowers have started to bloom in Melbourne and with a high of 25 Celsius on Saturday it is not hard to imagine our beach holiday looming in the distance. We are already packing, laying out the thongs (flip-flops, honest!) and shorts and trying to imagine driving a 20 foot, manual 6-speed winnebago down the wrong side of the road beach hopping from trailer park to trailer park for two whole weeks. In many ways it feels like a stretch for us but then I close my eyes and say as I have said many times throughout this entire experience - 'Why wouldn't we?!"

And so, with the sights and sounds of Melbourne comfortably viewed, photgraphed, logged, blogged, and brochured, (and twice on Sundays!) we will soon begin to "go walkabout", pushing past the parks and the beer parlours, making our way out to a part of the country that will prove to us, once and for all, that we're not in Kansas anymore.

Seeing beauty On the Road for the first time

The white whale is dead. Or is he? Well, he is for me at least in that I finally finished Moby Dick the other day. Thoroughly enjoyed it despite the fact one needs to read the first 530 pages before you actually meet the whale and then a mere 25 more before the book is over and all but one is dead. Ain’t that always the way? They suck you in, tease and taunt you endlessly, and then reveal all as the credits begin to roll. Not that I was disappointed with it. In fact, it was another subtle reminder that the really good stuff can only come with a little sacrifice.

I’m now re-visiting another classic I batted around at university but never really got my paws into – Jack Kerouac’s iconic road trippin’ classic – On the Road. I figured I needed something a little more modern and a little less “heavy” and in that regard this is answering the call. And yet, in many ways, what was so good about Melville, is not so good about Kerouac. While Ahab, Starbuck, and Ishmael had experience, adventure, and courage (along with Melville’s remarkable diction and wondrous description) with which to compel and teach the reader – Sal and Dean have travel, booze, and a less than admirable lifestyle from which we are supposedly meant to see the light and learn. I’m not compelled or convinced of anything yet except that perhaps there was something close to real freedom in the early post war era in America. There are moments where the stream of consciousness writing begins to take off and I feel like he is about to be profound or inspired, only to finish abruptly and fall flat with another reference to booze or “getting some girls”. I am actually thinking that I am, God forbid, too old for the book or perhaps (only slightly worse) of the wrong generation. And this has got me thinking.

It’s hugely clichéd but invariably true how age is the one constant ingredient found in wisdom. There is no substitute. We simply see life better with each passing day. A slightly random example of this occurred the other night when Linton and I were giggling our way through National Lampoon’s Vacation for the 48th time and she commented that she was noticing the great scenery in the movie for the first time. We laughed. In the past we would be focused on Clark Griswold and his ridiculous family and yet now it was the scenery that was really drawing our attention. Sad? Perhaps. Wiser? Maybe not. But most definitely a new and different perspective derived from our age and stage.

I want to use an idea from my classroom to make the connection. In my grade 12 English class I teach the concepts of Figure and Ground to my students as a way of discussing narrative structure and to get them to think about how effective plots and characters are built and wound through stories. Painters use this theory all the time. The figure is that thing (character or storyline) in the foreground, immediate and important, that draws our attention. The ground is made up of everything else in the story - or those things in the distance we are not immediately concerned with. The two are constantly changing as a new element emerges from the ground to become the figure and vice versa. In this way stories tell their tales naturally, seamlessly connecting lives in an effective ebb and flow of detail.

Applied to my life today in Melbourne, Kerouac’s On the Road has become my figure and Melville’s Moby Dick slips into the distance becoming the ground. Both inform each other and are connected. My experience with one has an undeniable effect on my connection to the next. The way I reconcile or consider these differences can teach me more about the two works but also about myself – hence, an accumulation of wisdom. Quite comically, and yet in a similar sense, the humour of the movie briefly became the ground as the scenery became the figure. Obviously a more minor example and yet still another recent and noted shift in perspective that built an ounce wisdom.

The additional complication that comes with the theory of figure and ground is that each viewer sees something different based upon their own background, age, or experience. In the case of the novels or the movie, it was age which allowed us see to beyond things as they once were and to accept them for what they now appeared to be. Magically, it seems, you awake one day and you are suddenly old enough and thus able to see the beauty of a scene in a movie for the first time even though it had been there all along.

In this same way, Melbourne has become our figure and Toronto our ground. We are now clearly, but in our own individual ways, focused on the character of Melbourne - always with the experience and storyline of Toronto in our back pocket influencing what we see and what wisdom we may gain. It is an experience that seems to be coming at all of us at a good time - armed with enough age and wisdom to enjoy, see, and appreciate all of the wisdom that it offers us now and on into our futures. And best of all, as is the case with truly transformational moments of wisdom or change, we knew none of this before it actually occurred to us – just now, just then, and hopefully twice tomorrow!