Why me?

Honestly, all I wanted to do was go to the supermarket in Bowen to buy some chicken for my dinner. THAT'S ALL! What I wasn't after was being attacked by a random dirty drunk woman then her husband who laid into me, then my friend, called us all sorts of names under the sun (and no, I'm not going to repeat them because they are not words I like to use) said that we was foreign and should go back to where we came from as they were true Aussies and had 7 children to feed. Somewhere in the tirade was how my friend L and I should get our men to sort this mess out. It was quite unnerving actually. First of all, the woman pushed me from behind, slammed both her hands into my shoulder blades (it's really lucky I didn't fall over given that my balance is not the best, I was wearing heels and a miniskirt so it could have been quite embarressing!) and called me several choice names. Now, I don't like confrontations so we just walked off from that one but 2 minutes later she walks round the end of an isle into my friends basket - this is a supermarket, things like that happen - and she went nuts! She launched herself at L, trying to punch her but given she was short and fat and L is tall and thin, L just held her at arms length though the woman did manage to get one or two punches landed on her. Then this bloke, equally filthy, joins in to try and separate them (or so we thought) and then starts shouting at her too! We ended up with me hiding down an isle hoping they wouldn't notice me again and L behind one of the checkouts with the woman spitting at her and attacking the staff and throwing chocolate from the displays about. When the police finally turned up they kept us for over an hour while they calmed the insane bastards down and carted them off the police station. The supermarket had to lend L a top because the woman had ripped hers practically totally off. The police were really nice to us and would like us to press charges and stuff to get a good case together and hopefully the CCTV footage will be decent. On the plus side of the whole thing, the detective was really rather cute (tall, blonde, nice smile...) and we got a ride home in the police car, unmarked unfortunately but he did flash the lights and the siren for us :)

CONGRATULATIONS!!!!

In all midst of the ongoing saga that is my life, I'm happy to report that others have it smoother. I've just received an email telling me that my best friend and her bloke are getting married. I'm grinning like a loon and trying to work out just how long I'll have to work to save up to come back for the wedding. I'll be there, don't you worry! Congratulations, the pair of you xxx

Hmmm

I may have done something not quite wise. I had fairly good reasons for coming to Bowen. 1. The tomato season is just really coming into it's own so the hours are good and the work is there whereas further South the season is finishing. 2. It's warmer here than further South. 3. Further North there's not much work as the cyclone a few months ago wiped out all the bananas (not that I wanted to work with bananas again given I buggered my wrist last time). 4. I knew that a couple of people I worked with in the shed in Murchison came up here for the season at this time of year and I thought that it would be nice to see them again. Unfortunately, my mind had conveniently wiped out the fact that the CTG is one of those people who migrate up here. Along with all his family. I ran into one friend of mine at my new job today (I'm back packing tomatoes, woohoo!) who said that it was lovely to see me but possibly it was a bit unwise to be here as she doesn't know how he'll react if he sees me which is entirely possible. I may just agree with her! On the other hand, I don't see why I should hide. I don't intend to go searching for him and I definitely don't want another confrontation but I'm not going to run scared. That way just lies badness and a complete lack of self confidence. Been there, done that, no thanks! He's run me out of one town and I'm not going to let him run me out of another one!

D'oh

I'm sitting on my top bunk bed reading my book when there's a knock at the door. It's a little awkward opening the door from up there but there was no one else in the room and I'm too lazy to get down so, hanging on for grim life, I lean over the top of the bunk and open the door. A moments pause, then in a slightly startled tone of voice 'Uh, is *insert dorm-mate's name here* about?' The questioner, a British bloke in his early 20's or so, stares at me for a second before haltingly asking his question and looking anywhere but at me. 'No, he's not, I've not seen him for a while' 'Oh...um...ok.' Another pause 'Thanks' And he scurries off. Shrugging slightly at some people's odd behaviour I let the door close and go to push myself back up onto my bunk. This involves looking down briefly. Instantly the puzzle is solved. Today's lesson, never lean completely over a top bunk to answer the door when wearing a very strappy top unless I really, really, mean to give the person answering the door and anyone in the corridor beyond an exceptional view of my cleavage. Will I never learn?

I'm a coward

Really, truly I am a coward, especially where things like experimenting with computers are concerned. I sit here every day and read other people's blogs and watch the changes they make to their websites and wish that I had the courage to do the same. Maybe a different colour background, or some pictures (I especially like Welshy's flowers at the moment) but I simply don't know how. I can do stuff like add bits to the side bar (but how to put them in a box is beyond me). I can put pictures in and although it took me a very long time, I finally got my comments sorted out. I did dare to go and have a look at different blogger templates the other day but when it told me I'd lose all my changes to my current blog I got scared. I don't have the luxury of my own computer on which to save things in case things go wrong or to spend hours sitting on it playing around with things. I'm not saying I don't like my blog, it's just that unrelenting black can get a bit wearing at times! Once again, I have to go as time is running out, grrr. Any advice would be greatly appreciated...

I should have stayed blond

I've been promising for a while to post some photos and I've finally got round to putting in a few of Sydney (and one of Brisbane) onto flickr but in doing so I've taken up 41% of my monthly upload allowance so how many more there'll be I don't know!). Today has been a day of being dumb. It took me 3 washes to get clean what should have only taken 2 because I forgot so much stuff. I lost 3 dollars because even though the big sign above the machine in the hostel across the road* said that it took 3 $1 coins I blindly believed the woman at the reception here who'd sold me a washing token for $3 promising it worked for the machines. As I found out, only the dryers take the tokens, and I only found that out after the washing machine had swallowed the damn thing. I've also fallen over several things and decided that although it was really windy, because it was a lovely sunny day it would be good to wear my pink wrap-around skirt. This was not the best idea I've ever had. Still, I got several wolf whistles from the building site I was walking past when the wind gusted so that's something I suppose! Roll on tomorrow is all I can say! *owned by the same people but with better washing machines than ours, especially for whites

Until tomorrow, I just keep movin' on

I have had enough. I've not been here a week and I'm not staying another one! At around 5pm (actually, more like 4.30pm as I was writing my post whilst trying not to listen to the boss of the hostel really have a go at someone) I made a snap decision that if I could find somewhere else to go, then somewhere else I would most definitely go! Amazingly enough I've managed to get a room in a hostel in Bowen and I leave for there on Sunday. There's nothing terribly wrong with this hostel (apart from the non-alcoholness of it) it's just that I don't feel all that comfortable here and there's no reason to stay if I don't like it. I have a great job but it's quite short days (I don't start until 7am and I've finished by 2.30pm) so the money's not that good, enough to live on but not really enough to save. All in all, it's best to move on, that's one of the best thing about being a backpacker! I did feel really guilty about telling them I was leaving as a week isn't really that long a time to stay in a working hostel. They kept on saying that my farmer was going to be really disappointed and that the season hadn't started in Bowen yet and I'd better stay here a couple of weeks more but I contacted an old work friend of mine who is up in Bowen and she said that the season had started (I'm hoping she'll put in a good word for me where she works...) so I figure that I might as well go now. I'm hoping that they do allow alcohol in this next hostel because I do like a glass of wine with my dinner, even though I'm sure a week without a drop will have done my liver the power of good!

Work and stuff

I thought that I would say that as well as pumpkins, pineapples, bananas, grapes and tomatoes I now know how to pick and pack sweet potatoes. Fun fun fun.

Ridiculous things

Have you ever been suddenly, in the midst of a completely normal activity, been struck by the absolute ridiculousness of the situation? Take me, for instance, last night. There I was, in the bathroom here at the hostel, consciensiously brushing my teeth before heading to bed. As this is a shared bathroom, there were also 2 other girls there, standing infront of the sinks, staring at themselves in the mirror performing the same act of oral hygiene. You stare at the mirror because it's there, you have to stare at yourself because to stare at other people's reflections whilst in silent (apart from the background noise of brushing) contemplation would be deemed a tad rude - it's like the embarrassment you feel when you realise that the space you have been staring blankly into whilst on the train/bus/checkout queue actually contains a person, a person aware that you have for the last 5 minutes been staring at them. We'd been there a good minute or so when suddenly, absolutely spontaneously, all 3 of us started giggling. It wasn't 1 person starting and the others following, oh no, it was all of us realising at the exact same moment that we looked bloody stupid with no two ways about it. Actually, for me, this sudden realisation is fairly commonplace, I usually manage to notice that I may look a bit stupid whilst singing a song at the top of my voice in the car, or when walking down the street (especially then because I have a nasty habit of talking to myself and when I talk I gesture, I'm amazed I've not been carted off to the nearest lunatic asylum by well meaning passers by thinking I've escaped) and even at some very inopportune moments which I'm sure were not appreciated by others present at the time. Oh, and for the record, laughing whilst trying to brush your teeth is not to be recommended.

Bundy is...

Bundy is a town famous for it's rum. Almost everything in this town revolves around either the agriculture or the rum. So it is quite beyond me how I managed to get myself booked into the only hostel in town which doesn't allow alcohol anywhere on it's premises or even outside. Ah well, detox will do me good! Apart from the alcohol thing, the hostel seems ok, the girls in my room are really nice and chatty although apparently there are some people there who've been there for months and consider new arrivals as beneath their notice. I booked in last night without much trouble (I had a terrible feeling that I'd got the wrong hostel or that they'd forgotten about me etc) and unfortunately (well, for me) Queensland is getting a much needed drenching so a lot of work has been cancelled until the weather improves. Good for those needing the break, good for the water levels, not so good for me. Still, it probably won't last! I was so glad that I'd managed to find somewhere to stay, there was one guy on the coach who hadn't organised a hostel. Seeing as it arrived at 11.30pm I thought that that was a bit daft but some people are like that, I've not quite managed that degree of 'no worries'edness (and a good thing too or I'd've been sleeping at the coach centre!). I will say one thing about this hostel though, there are no good looking sons to get me into trouble. Whatever happens, that is always a Very Good Thing.

A little distraction

I did this after seeing it on Pomgirl's website. You Belong in New Zealand Good on ya, mate You're the best looking one of the bunch Though you're often forgotten... You're quite proud of who you are What English Speaking Country Do You Belong In? I think I can live with 'best looking of the bunch' :)

Panic and relief

I have been stressing (whilst watching the 'roos, of course) about having somewhere to go for the last couple of days. I'd already had to extend my stay at Noosa because all of the hostels in Bundaberg, every single damn one, was booked up for days in advance, but wouldn't let me book several days in advance because they didn't know when they'd have vacancies. Yesterday I settled down by the payphone again (no mobile reception, grrr) for another round of pointless phone calls. 'Hi, do you have any vacancies and work from Sunday?' 'No, sorry, we're fully booked, why don't you try the ***** hostel?' 'Thanks, I will (kindly not mentioning that I'd already rung them)'. Repeat ad infinitum. At my wits end and rather fed up of having nowhere to stay I was therefore rather surprised that one had a place for me, and, not only that but I may have a job on Monday! They weren't really pleased that I don't arrive in Bundaberg until 11.10pm (not my fault, there's only 1 coach a day, surely they're used to it? At least I'm on Premier, Greyhound get there even later) as the buses to go to work leave at 5am and 5.30am every day. I'm a little unsure what possessed me to say that I would be able to work on Monday, several hours on a coach followed by trying to find a hostel in the dark, then getting up at stupid times of the day again to go out and pick tomatoes is not the best idea ever but I felt it was better than saying no. I just keep telling myself that a job is a job, I've done it before, I'll survive. I'm actually looking forward to working again, the last 2 weeks have been lovely but I really need to DO something. I'm hoping to be able to post some photos soon too. I rejoyced today that I had finally found an internet cafe that allows you to use the USB port only to remember that my cable for my camera is in my rucksack which my hostel are keeping hold of for me until my bus leaves. Bugger.

In the lap of luxury

I'm staying at a place called the Noosa North Shore resort. It's actually outside of Noosa itself and it really lovely. I'm particularly fond of it because of my accommodation. For a mere $20 a night (yes, $20 that's not a misprint) I'm staying, on my own, in a self contained unit with a choice of 4 beds (I took one of the doubles, naturally!), my own kitchen, bathroom, living area...it's fantastic! They're quite full here at the moment and have a group of Americans who've filled up the normal backpacking accommodation and I'm the overflow! I'm quite sure that tonight I'll have company, which won't be a bad thing, but last night I revelled in the fact that I could lock the door, turn off the lights and sit in my living room with a glass of wine and watch the roos on the lawn behind the unit. I'm going horseriding later on, that should be good.

Things to do in Brisbane

I'm feeling all proud and educated and sort of classy as I've spent the last couple of days (apart from the Brewery tour) going round the Botanic Gardens, the Art Gallery and the Museum. I believe that I have expanded my mind and refreshed my soul by wandering round these valued institutions and gardens, occasionally going 'hmmm' and looking intelligent. Besides, they were all free (apart from the Brewery tour).

Slightly squiffy

I've had a lovely afternoon on the Castlemaine XXXX brewery tour. Am slightly unsteady on my feet as you get 4 beers at the end as part of the entry price and I managed to get 2 of the special ones instead of the normal allowance of 1. This also means I'm slightly unsteady in my typing abilities at the present time as well. Not helping this unsteadyness is the fact that my internet is in chinese. I can't make it not. This makes surfing the net a little problematic as whereas what I'm writing is in English, all the links and stuff are in Chinese. Ah well. I'm going to go round Mt Coot-tha Botanic gardens again tomorrow (I went around them with mum back in October) but they should look at least slightly different in the winter. Then it's on up the coast. Don't know where yet, we'll just have to wait and see.

Going to the movies

I'm hurrying along George Street towards the shopping centre of Brisbane. My destination is the cinema in the Queen Street Mall where I'm meeting someone from the hostel to see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. I'm a little late as I keep forgetting how long it takes to walk to the city centre from my hostel but should get there before the trailers start. I'm alone as my friend had things to do and is meeting me at the cinema. So, having finally found the right entrance to the mall (it's evening so they've shut most of it) I'm on the escalators heading up to level 3 where the cinema is. My phone rings, it's my friend. 'Where are you?' 'I'm just heading up the escalators to the foyer, I'll be there in a sec, I had trouble finding the right entrance to the Mall' 'What do you mean? There are no escalators and I'm not in a Mall'. Ah. 'Which cinema are you in?' 'One on George Street' 'Not the one in the Mall?' Apparently not. There's no time left, I don't know where his cinema is and the movie's about to start where he is so we each go our separate ways and finally meet up later back in the hostel. Lesson learned: Always, always make sure you're talking about the same place when planning on meeting someone somewhere. Still, the film was fantastic and I got to drool over Johnny Depp in relative privacy :)

Sympathy please

I'm feeling sorry for myself. I ache, my jaw and throat are really painful and my voice is non-existant :( I was so out of it yesterday that I managed to put my washkit in a locker and then completely forget about it and spent an hour searching places in the hostel for it before remembering what I'd done.

Da da-da-da da, Da Da Da

There I was, coke bottle in the drinks holder on one side, sweets in my left hand (they havn't heard of sweet popcorn here, it's all salted, it's a disgrace I tell you!) and my right hand immobile half-way to my open mouth, all things temporarily forgotten as the words which rush towards me on the cinema screen and the music which inevitably goes with those iconic speeding letters washes over me. Finally, when it's over, and I'm sitting there trying to recover my breath I realise that I don't care what the rest of the film is like, I would have paid double the entrance fee just to see the credits of Superman Returns. Thankfully, my worries are unfounded as my forgotten sweets once again begin their journey mouthwards. The film is fantastic. I was a little worried about Lois Lane as a yummy mummy but after 5 minutes, I really didn't care! Superman was back, looking scrummy, and Clark Kent was a clumsy and geeky as ever. If ever a replacement could honourably fill Christopher Reeves' shoes then Brandon Routh was it. And I loved the bit with the piano :) Only one thing bothers me, going at that speed, doing the things he does, how on earth does he get that kiss-curl to stay in place?

Confusion

I'm wasting time. My coach to Brisbane is not until nearly 7 tonight. I'm going to go and see Superman Returns in half an hour but am currently attempting to pass the time in an internet cafe in Chinatown. It's lucky I can touch type as the keyboards are bilingual and attempting to look at it while typing results in much confusion! Had a bit of a mad moment in my hostel the other day when I heard a couple of Welsh accents and it turned out that the 2 lads had both been to my secondary school and when I said that I'd been there one of them burst out 'NOW I recognise you, you had longer hair then. You were a couple of years above me'. Unfortunately they were on their way out to a bus so I didn't have a chance to ask why they remembered me. I'm chosing to believe that it was for good and lovely reasons, why else would you recognise someone across the other side of the world who wasn't even in your year, or your group of friends, 8 years after they'd left? Hmmmmm...

Grrr

There are, of course, drawbacks to hostel living. You are lucky if you share a room with only one irritiating person. Unfortunately, here, I have not been lucky. In fact, I have been extremely unlucky. For a quiet hostel, my room is remarkably noisy as it's right next to the front door. I also have room-mates who really havn't heard that if you have to get up when others are still asleep (as some of us are at 5am) it's only polite to make as little noise as possible, rather than banging round fiddling with plastic bags, slamming doors, etc. Ditto for getting in at 4.30am after a night out. At least 2 of them have developed the highly irritating habit of turning the tv on the moment they walk into the room, no matter if there's nothing they actually want to watch on, and then they'll wander out leaving it on. At full volume. The last irritatant of the moment is that we have a heater in our room. It's a remarkably efficient heater that when switched on full belts out huge amounts of warm air. Mind you, this is Sydney and despite the fact that it's technically winter, it's not that damn cold! Our room is sweltering at the moment (I'm fighting an on-going war to keep the heater turned off as much as possible, I think I'm losing) and they STILL sleep with blankets on! I wake up sweating in the middle of the night, even just my sheet too much, feeling like I'm on fire. Not only that but because of the stale air (there is a balcony door but of course, opening it would let in the fresh, obviously freezing - it must be, there are people out there wearing t-shirts and shorts for pete's sake) the room reeks, as you'd expect an unaired, way too hot, full of travellers shoes room to smell. I had a minor victory today when I had the room to myself and spent over an hour with the heater off and the door wide open before someone came in and absentmindedly turned on the tv and the heater up to full. Tomorrow I move on. Not a moment too soon.

Falling in love again

And so it was that on a warm winter's morning whilst walking down a tree lined road past the iron railings under a crystal clear blue sky watching flocks of lorikeets explode from the gum trees in shining masses of green and gold flashing in the sunlight that I fell in love. Again. Any doubts I may have entertained about whether my 4 months at home had made me raise this country onto a pedestal that maybe it didn't quite deserve were dispelled almost instantly. The rest of my day only confirmed that this country is wonderful. I walked my feet off round the Botanic Gardens and up to a vantage point to view the Opera House and Harbour Bridge (I even climbed up one of the pylon towers, pretty good view). One thing that has struck me about this city in particular is the water. It's a fully functioning port and the water is so clear and blue and clean that it's simply unbelievable. And it's mid-winter and I'm wandering round in a t-shirt and jeans. Besides, how can you not love a city with double decker subway trains that have seats where you can change which way you're facing?

Here at last

I've made it to Sydney safe and sound (although the turbulence on the flight was a little worrying, even the cabin crew had to sit down and strap in). Yesterday was spent mainly sleeping and wandering round attempting to get over jet lag. I'm going to go and be a tourist today and gawk at the Opera House and things like that :) The hostel I'm in is really nice and friendly and thankfully not on a main street. I got the shuttle from the airport with a couple of Danish lads and a girl who were staying in the main street here in Kings Cross and were very dismayed to find that their hostel entrance was a tiny door next to a huge entrance to an sex shop. I don't think they'd quite realised the implications of living in a red light district... I'm just glad I did some research into some of the hostels before booking them!