Nightly Journeys

I get a call last night, or more accurately early this morning, at 12:10. It was Semi-Naked Guy and he's standing at the back door with no keys. He did wake me but I didn't really mind.

"Where do we go when we sleep?" he asked after I had walked the length of the house and let him in, I assume inspired by the groggy nature in which I had answered the phone. He's full of big questions like that, big questions that cannot be contained by his lack of shirt.

I left the conversation for bed, without an answer. Shortly after I could hear soft snoring from the lounge, indicating that where ever we go, he's beaten me there.

I lay awake for a while pondering my destination. The Land of Nod as it were, and the journey we take there each night. We show an innate knowledge of it in the words we choose, all suggesting some form of movement, sometimes "drifting off" like a leaf tumbling in a summer breeze. At other times, the violence of "falling" asleep, of dropping sharply between worlds, as our bodies plummet from our control and our consciousness goes... where?

Before I had tottered off back to bed he said "Thank you for being part of my journey", "You're welcome, I guess" I answered uncertainly.

All I did was open the door.

The Tale of the Random Rickshaw

So at the moment I'm living with this dude, not "living with" just living with, and he likes to walk around sometimes in different levels of semi-undress, so I call him Semi-Naked Guy (not to his face, just, you know, in my head).

Anyway, the other day, Semi-Naked Guy walks into the house and says "Hey, wanna come look at my rickshaw?". I'm thinking euphemism, but no, as I walk outside, there it is, a bright red rickshaw.

He'd hired it for his friends' wedding they were using it as the bridal vehicle and it was parked outside the house for a week.

The day of the wedding arrives, and he has the bright spark idea of getting the rickshaw to the wedding on the train, he gets to the station all right. He's set with his 2 tickets, one for him, one for the rickshaw, and gets all the way up the 40 odd stairs to the platform only to find that when the train arrives, his bright red rickshaw doesn't fit through the doors.

So S-NG and his mates end up hiring a trailer or something and manage to get the Bride to the alter on time, or at least only the usual amount of late for a Bride.

After the ceremony he's driving the bridal pair around for their photos and he turns the rickshaw, as he turns, he moves, the rickshaw moves, and the couple moves with it but one of those massive cartwheels on the side doesn't. The guests are all watching the situation in slow-motion, yelling out with one voice that real slow drawn out "NO!" that only ever happens in movies and bad sit-coms. Semi-Naked Guy realises just in time to not ruin the Brides day completely.

He spends the remainder of the day, riding around offering all the cute girls a ride on his rickshaw. Now how's that for a line?

"Ladies, want a ride on my rickshaw?"

Happy Wandering Woman-niversary!

Exactly one year to the day, after I set foot in Japan, I set foot in my new office into my new role. I'm still wandering, just in a more centralised location for now. Centralised specifically around the Central Business District in Sydney. It's my city and I love being back here, I have rediscovered the strong sense of home that I have here. I have come full circle, ready to start saving for the next adventure.

Now, two weeks in, I'm really loving my new job too, successfully being incognito as the mild-mannered insurance something something.

Thanks for following.

House-Sitting in Summer Hill

This is Buffy.

She is a cat, not a vampire-slayer. That is to say, she does not appear to have the necessary physique to be very effective in the capacity of vampire-slayer. Having said that though, I have not seen any vampires in the immediate vicinity, so she may indeed be very effective in this capacity. Conversely, the lack of vampires may just be a coincidence.

Regardless, of her ability (or lack there of) to battle the vamps, she requires looking after, as her owners are travelling around the world in 80 days, and they, rather misguidedly, have left her and their house, in my somewhat trustworthy and responsible hands.

Buffy is a bit noisy at times, but she' s a bit cute and very affectionate, and she comes with a superb house in the Sydney suburb of Summer Hill, and a semi-naked guy.

Mild-Mannered Insurance Something-Something

I've decided to take the whole Daydream Island fiasco and the Winton Rejection as a sign. One great, glaring, garish in the fashion of neon 'Girls Girls Girls' signs all around the world. A sign that's stating starkly 'stay in Sydney'.

This time I'm following the signs, so as such, I have been seeking employment back in the good ol' CBD. I intend to return to my previous industry, Insurance, which is, I promise more interesting than it sounds.

So far, the job-hunt seems to be going well, with quite a few interviews, and with many more pre-interview interviews with recruitment agencies, but no one has hired me yet. Fingers crossed, I'll find something soon. I can then become the mild-mannered insurance something-something (insert job title here) by day, wild-eyed Turtlepacker, able to explore entire areas in a single bound, by night.

And on weekends.

Letters to Anne

I am a firm believer in credit where credit is due, so today, I sent this;

To the owners & staff at Anne Hostel,

I was very fortunate to stay in your hostel earlier this year, and just wished to convey to you what a great hostel you have and what a great experience I had there.

Recently, I participated in a youth forum for a large hostel organisation in Australia, where I was part of a focus group being used to determine what areas were the most important for young travellers when looking for a hostel. They asked about some of our good experiences and what we thought makes a great hostel. I found myself telling them all about yours, about the warm, welcoming nature of your common room and the cleanliness of your other facilities. I explained that what made your hostel so great that was whilst, it was in a good location for sight-seeing, it was also a relaxing place to unwind and spend a day doing nothing, except catching up on emails, as long term travellers such as myself sometimes need to do.

During my stay, I also blogged about your hostel.

Mostly, I just wished to impress on you what a wonderful time I had in your hostel, and to encourage you to keep up the good work.

Thank you

Little Girl Lost

Wistful about Winton

"Once a jolly Turtlepack camped by a billabong, under the shade of a coolabah tree..." are the appropriated lyrics of a dream that will not be.

A couple of weeks ago, I applied for a job. At that point in time I was still hopeful that I might be able to save faster for my next big trip if I secured myself another remote position, this time in outback Queensland, in the little rural town of Winton. While I was waiting to hear back about the role, I did a lot of research on Winton.

It turns out Winton is pretty exciting. Well, pretty exciting to an über geek like me at least, because Winton, you see, has dinosaurs. It has an enormous fossil site of a dinosaur stampede, which was studied to create the gallimimus stampede in Jurassic Park. Like I said, it's pretty exciting.

It also used to be one of Banjo Paterson's haunts, and it is said that the billabong under the shade of the coolabah tree is just outside Winton, where the ill-fated swaggie met his demise. See, it's really exciting.

If that wasn't already enough, on top of dinosaurs and suicidal swagman, there is also an opal quarry.

I could hardly contain my excitement, you probably think I'm being sarcastic. I'm not. I'm just a really big geek.

The job was at the cutest little old style pub too, and as you may have surmised I didn't get it, so I'm not going to Winton, at least not until I can go there on super über über geekie holiday.