Tales of the beard 19

In the Jordan River, before I got swept 5 miles downstream. I kid!!! Its was only 3.

The river, the sea, the crazy humidity

Sunday was our full day with our friends. This being the only day we are here with them that they don’t teach all day, they decided to take us north in Israel to the Sea of Galilee. This seemed the most unreachable for us within our means and seemed the most pleasant and least exhausting for our very preggers hostess.

The day got started early and we were out of Jerusalem by 9:00. Fortunately, our friends car maintains all the important parts of operating in the desert and hilariously lacks in some other routine items. Which is to say the A/C still works like a charm (HUGE plus) while the car does not have a gas gauge, so their collective math intellect keeps them knowledgable of how much gas they have. After making our way past Jericho (sadly no trumpets resounding) and another checkpoint (a sobering reminder of the overwhelming military presence in the area), we reached our first stop along the banks of the Jordan River, where I quickly changed into my shorts. Kris and I decided against a full baptismal procession and buying our very own holy water, but did dip in the river to the delight of the many small nibbler fishes (Tina wasn’t as entertained by this as I was) After leaving there we drove into Tiberias and wandered around for a while, hastily looking for a place to eat, as the smothering humidity was swiftly driving us into the ground. (That is the one thing about Jerusalem area. It is goofy hot, to say the least, but without humidity, it’s still manageable. This has felt like my most uncomfortable weather day of the trip so far) Ate some yummy pizza and with stomachs renewed, continued up the coast of the lake.

Here we were able to see some very important and monumental moments in both Jesus’ teachings and the beginning of the Christian church. This included the sights of the Sermon on the Mount (Church of the Beatitudes), Jesus’ forgiving and renewing of Peter (Peter’s primacy with church on site) and the first Christian church as well as Peter’s hometown (Capernium). Personally, I was a little thrown off by the way they commemorated the site of the first church, as they decided to build a very space-shipesque church right on top of the ruins. You can look down on the inside into the ruins, but I feel like there was maybe a more visually appealing and less galling approach to it. Again, just my personal opinion (well also Kris’s and our friends).

Though the day was very hot and sticky, it failed to take away from the importance of what we were able to see in those sites, not to mention the Sea of Galilee itself, the witness of Jesus’ water-walking and storm-calming. I continue to be very thankful to have a chance to see these places, to help make my faith seem more real somehow.

We got back to the city by 5:30ish and were treated to yet another delicious dinner before another good evening wind down and snoozeroony.

Tales of the beard 18

On the Mount of Olives, Old City behind me

The Old City, part 1

Titled part 1, as we plan another jaunt into the Old City next week at some point.

Friday night was just the kind of night’s sleep we so desperately needed after a combined 8 hours over two nights, mixed in with a day at Petra and a long, tiresome crossing into Israel. With the ability to wake up at our own choosing, we were prepped and ready for a day of discovery. Honestly we hadn’t planned to get going until possibly even the afternoon but after receiving a facebook message from our new French friend, Greg, saying he wanted to meet us at the Wailing Wall in an hour, we hurriedly got ready and made our way to the OC (nothing like Orange County). It was nice to have an idea of our plans for the day since we weren’t really sure what we wanted from our first full day. So Greg, your sneak attack facebook message actually did us a service.

Well we never did find Greg and later found out that somehow he thought the plan had changed times and places. Nevertheless we were now in the OC, having navigated our way through the impossibly busy Damascus gate and to the Wailing Wall. We thought this day a perfect chance to follow the path of Jesus’ final days, starting with the Mount of Olives, working our way to the Garden of Gessamane and the Church of All Nations, heading through the Lions Gate and along the Via Dolorosa (his walk with the cross) and end up at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where supposedly he was crucified and buried. The whole journey for me was a combination of distraction, reverence and thankfulness. Kris had done all these things in the past before and was interested to see my reactions to it all and more than willing to be there with me.

We got started by making our way up to the Mount of Olives, a VERY hot and steep climb to the high lookout. Along the way we passed the graves of many, many people who most believed The Messiah would make his entrance to Earth through the un-opened Golden Gate and wanted to be buried outside of this gate. We also knew Schindler (from Schindler’s List) was buried here and would have loved to have found his grave. Two big issues: 1. Could not read any Hebrew 2. Felt there could be some disrespect issues wandering around a sacred graveyard. So alas, we passed on the hunt and got to the top, tired and thirsty but thoroughly enjoying the view and the importance of this place. We passed on yet another camel ride and got some great pictures.

After getting back down we got to the Garden of Gessamane and corresponding Church of All Nations. I really enjoyed this place a lot. Kris told me this was always a favorite of hers too, it bringing her to tears a second time. In her words, there was something about this moment, when Jesus was at possibly his most vulnerable, feeling very much scared and alone, and very aware of the incoming betrayal and abandonment of those closest to him that always affected her. I was very thankful for the somber atmosphere the C of AN provided for this remembrance and also fascinated to see olive trees that very possibly were the eye witnesses of Jesus’ passionate plea and prayer to God.

After that, we re-entered the OC through the Lion Gate which put us on the Via Dolorosa, the walk Jesus took with his cross. I think this is where some of the distraction of the modern situation in the city took over. Though I enjoyed seeing the various stations they marked along the path that annotated significant moments in Jesus’s journey to crucifixion, it was also hard to imagine it all with SO much hustle and bustle of the market place. One part of the path, in particular, was incredibly crowded with afternoon shoppers, tourists and stores. I tried my best to keep the right frame of mind but it was not always easy.

Having completed the walk to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, we made our way in, getting a chance to stand in line to feel what was apparently the very rock in which the cross was mounted, see where his body was laid and see where he was put in his tomb. In some ways the church seemed a little overdone in its gaudy appearance. In some ways I was floored by the reverence apparent to some of the visitors. In some ways I was skeptical that the church held both the sight of crucifixion (believe this more) and the tomb (believe this less). In some ways I wish I had a better, more appropriate surrounding to reflect on the moment. But in all ways, I was very much grateful to experience this. To know I stood in the very city that bore witness to the most important event to shape my life and beyond.

After finishing our journey, Kris got a chance to show me the store where she spent a week working on one of her earlier visits to Jerusalem. Unfortunately it was now something else and the lady Kris knew who owned the shop was nowhere to be found. After this we headed back towards the bus station and made a quick trip into the Garden Tomb, which also lays claim to the possibility they house the sight of the crucifixion and burial site. Honestly, who knows. But what was very neat about this place was getting a chance to see an actual ancient tomb, whether it was Jesus’ or not. It gave us the proper visual perspective to imagine the resurrection and what it could have been like to lay his body down. After the Garden Tomb, we easily got on a bus back to our host’s house and were ready for another low key evening after yet another full day of walking in the sweltering Middle Eastern heat. We ate super delicious falafel and pita bread before settling in to do very little, quite honestly. A perfect end to a great day.

Side note: Kris is inappropriately convinced she’s dying from three spider bites. She wants me to put that I will feel silly about this when she is dead. I don’t think silly would be the proper word for my reaction in that situation. Oh Tina Marie…

Pictures: The view of the Old City atop Mount of Olives, inside the Church of All Nations, the many flames of candles lit commemorating Jesus’s burial site, the inside of the Garden Tomb

Tales of the beard 17

Moving west in the east, Middle East that is

So after another night of depleted sleep numbers in our silly Amman hostel, we prepped ourselves for the border crossing into Israel. We knew it was going to be another early morning as a supposed Jett Bus was leaving for the border at 7am. But in the interest of playing it safe, we decided to get there at 6am, just in case. This meant another 5:30 wake up and it also meant we made sure to clear our bill the night before, so we were done with the place and could just drop off our key at reception and be gone. Well the bus did end up leaving at about 10 after 7 so we spent some extra time at the station, but the relief of knowing there was a bus going at all (which apparently wasn’t an assured thing because of Ramadan) was enough for us not to care.

There was definetly some anxiety and nerves abounding in anticipation for the crossing. The main reason being Kris’s prior trips to the area that included plenty of time in Palestinian areas and a lot of tense check points and situations, including a brief detainment once. We weren’t sure if that was going to make this time around an issue. Fortunately, everything went fairly smoothly. I did the talking when we got to immigration since I had never been and was on a “clean slate” so to speak. That was enough for the officer. She didn’t feel the need to question Kris. Other then Kris losing one of her expensive clogs in transition, we made it through unscathed. The only thing worth mentioning is the length of it all. Good grief! I’ve had surgeries go quicker than this. It really is like a 15 point process. Something like this:

1. Take Jett bus to border
2. Exit bus, enter station to clear our leaving from Jordan (Baggage check, pay border fee)
3. Get on another bus to next checkpoint
4. Exit bus, have passport checked for a second time, guard with gun clears bus of whatever
5. Get back on bus, cross 40 foot bridge, now in Israel, reach customs/immigration building
6. Exit bus for the final time, get in line for a third passport check and brief luggage check
7. Report to another line to have 2nd of 3 stickers applied to our passport. Allowed to cut all local Pastinians in line for this (Not okay with that)
8. Hand off big luggage and passport to an officer. 2 minutes later get passport back and move on to security checkpoint.
9. Send small bag and metal objects through beltway. Hand off passport to someone else (for the 5th time I think?)
10. Use the john
11. Buy more water (its hot!!!)
12. Proceed to customs and get drilled about our purposes in Israel and our proceedings in Jordan. Get officers cold approval and stamp
13. Head to line where we are told it’s not time to pick up big bags yet.
14. Wait in chairs for 10 minutes
15. Try the line again, get clearance to pickup baggage
16. Get baggage (sans one shoe) and make for exit
17. Buy a ticket for Sheirut and get gone!!!

So there you go. I know how jealous you probably are now after reading that. Let me ease your envy. NOT FUN!

After taking the Sheirut into Jerusalem and getting dropped off outside the old city, we made our way to the Arab bus station and followed our host’s excellent directions to get to their place. Eager to stop carrying our bags and generally stop moving at all, our friend’s apartment became an immediate sanctuary for us. After catching up on each other’s lives, they graciously made us breakfast for lunch and we spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking, cleaning and generally doing as little physical activity as possible. We made our way with them over to our other friends in the area, who coincidentially know each other, as they teach at the same school. (Everyone now: “It’s a small world after all…”) Dinner was great, convos were awesome, and sleep came soon after. A wonderful night’s sleep that lasted more than 5 hours in a bed for 2!! We would be ready to tackle the old city the next day.

Pictures: King Hussein bridge from Jordan to Israel, hanging laundry the old fashioned way on our friends roof

Tales of the Beard 16

In the Siq!!

Jordan, Petra and the impossible heat

Thursday began our Middle east experience in earnest, and the day was committed to Petra. Hear me please when i tell you it is not at all smart to do this on 3 hours of sleep after having crossed 8 time zones in the last 36 hours or so. This seems like common sense, I know, but we had no choice. It was Thursday or bust for us so we chose Thursday.

Quite honestly, it was very close to being bust. The night before, after our kind but pushy hotel manager had tried for 10 minutes to push private tours on us, he finally agreed to meet us 6am the next morning to help us get to the bus station and get tickets, since he insisted we should have booked seats before hand and we would be "very lucky" to get a seat at all. So the morning began with trepadation and become more frantic when 10 minutes rolled by past 6 and he was still a no show. We now had only 20 minutes before the bus was supposed to leave from the station. That's when our unknowing savior of the morning arrived. A man pulled up to the hotel and got out and was very insistent and pushy on giving us a ride to the station. For several minutes we insisted back that we had a ride already. We didn't want to blow off our hotel manager and we had no idea who this guy was or what he was up to. He walked into the hotel to try and wake up the manager's son, Odai, who was sleeping on a couch behind reception. Odai was not having any of it, so after our guy tried calling the manager from the number we had, he convinced us to go with him. It was 15 or 20 past and we no longer felt guilty for not waiting for our ride. The man was very cordial and friendly in the car, telling us he had relatives in Chicago and we should look them up. A couple minutes later at the bus station, he personally walked in with us and made sure we got two tickets on the bus and even saw us to the bus door. After vehemently refusing any kind of payment for his ride and extreme helpfulness, he left and wished us a great day. We were floored, still in a whirlwind about the whole experience and excited that Petra would indeed work out.

Note: Kris has long stated and now has my full agreement, that the hospitality of the Arab culture is both overwhelming and humbling. Examples begin with this man, who had no personal benefit to anything he did for us. He wasn't looking for anything in return but took great pleasure in making sure we were taken care of. We could list others from this trip as could Kris make a laundry list from her past experiences in the Middle East as well as our experiences in Chicago of amazing Arab/Middle Eastern hospitality. I just felt like that needed to be said.

There are definetly no shortage of superlatives that could be linked with a visit to Petra. Awe-inspiring, exhausting, HOT, enourmous, incredible, HOT, breath taking, thirst-inducing, HOT HOT HOT!! We made it to the entrance by 10:30 after grabbing snacks, extra water and hunting for and finding an ATM after we learned with suprise that Petra only takes cash (In fact, I'm not sure Jordan takes credit at all!) There was worry that Tina's knee would be a big issue for the day. It had been giving her trouble for a couple days and was really acting up today. But by the grace of God, as soon as the real hiking began, it completely subsided and did not return. Pain everywhere else in our bodies DID set in by the end of the day however. A combination of about a billion stairs and an easy propensity for dehydration, even though we both drank about a gallon each of water. It's really hard to put Petra into words. Earlier into the foray you reach the Siq, which is the famous caverned walk that you can see in the 3rd Indiana Jones movie. This area is both jaw-dropping and pleasing to walk in as it creates gobs of shade for the road. It takes you right to the Treasury (also in the IJ movie) that is the symbol of Petra. Photos insue, camel rides are refused and we moved on. The rest of the site is filled with really cool tombs, mosaics, walkways and houses but the other site worth really noting would have to be the Monsatery. (2nd picture above) Similar to the Treasury in look and feel, what made this place so awesome was the fairly grueling hour-long hike up 900 steps to get to it. It would often serve as a pilgrimmage to the residents of Petra to hike up there and reach the Monastery. It was a perfect oppotunity for me to praise God for the awesome things of this world he created or blessed His people to create. The top also included an even higher lookout of the whole surrounding desert (3rd pic)

By 3:30, a complete exhaustion that I compared to how I felt after by Chicago Marathon, had set in, complete with dry-mouth, whole body ache, and a good headache to boot. We managed to get back to the visitor center in time for our bus, feeling and looking, I'm sure, like death warmed over. But it was all completely worth it. Worth our energy, time and money. Got back to Amman by 8 with our new French friend, Greg, in tow, since he was looking for a place to stay in Amman. Hooked him up with our hostel before the three of us had super yummy and super cheap falafels and kebabs near-by. We were hoping to get to bed early to rest up for the border crossing the next day but it ended up being later do to unforseen cash withdrawals and money fretting since our hotel manager, though nice enough, still insisted we pay for the night we did not stay there that he thought we were coming for and the taxi cab he sent to the airport we weren't at. CRIPES!!! Oh well, such is life and travel sometimes. $50 later we hit the hay, not necessarily looking forward to waking up 5 1/2 hours later for the border crossing.

Tales of the beard part 15 .

Can you see the sleep deprivation in my eyes? Even my beard hairs are droopy

In transit

Wednesday has officially become, and will hopefully remain, the most forgettable day of this world trip. Think sitting, and waiting, and sitting, and waiting and maybe waiting a little more. It’s not to say it did not have its interesting moments. But it is to say we could do without another day like it.
After a decent start to the day which included a free breakfast at our hotel and “sweet as” (like our NZ friends would say) navigation of KLIA we boarded our first plane to the Kingdom of Bahrain. I got on to the plane feeling fairly out of sorts because of (here comes an “Oh Matt” moment) my idiotic decision to chug both of our bottles of water that couldn’t make it past an unexpected 2nd security checkpoint. Now I know its possible to over-hydrate and it can actually be quite dangerous. I’m not saying I was in that territory but it sure got me thinking and worrying about it a little.
The flight was decent but long. Another 6 hours to get to Bahrain (which reminds me, I need to update our airplane time accumulation) By the time we landed in Bahrain we were already approaching a reasonable dinner time and very much not looking forward to our 8 hour layover in the airport.
Bahrain airport was one of the most interesting, flummoxing, frustrating, draining airport stays we both agreed we’d ever experienced. Besides the long wait I’ll highlight a few interesting parts:
1. Being that it is currently Ramadan, about once every hour, out of nowhere, the airport loud speakers would pipe in, at a high volume, Ramadan prayer chants. The first time, I thought it was someone’s ringtone or music player blasting the airport walls. When I noticed Kris and I were one of the only people confused about it, I changed my mind.
2. My micro McDonalds experience. It was getting late in the night, closing in on our boarding time. We were feeling very famished and needed a light something to tide us over. What I figured would be a few minute jaunt into McD’s for cheeseburgers became a 20 minute ordeal where two ladies and their child formed a protective circle around me shouting about ice cream and clearly not interested in waiting their turn. This coupled with the abrasive man next to me that was doing everything he could to solicit McDonald’s help in sending out a fax for him. This included gold business cards. I’m fairly certain the employees didn’t get it.
3. The lady we tried to check in with for our second flight. First of all, the check-in desks do not sort out at all by airline or affiliation, so your left to try and form something resembling a line and wait for the next agent who may or may not know what they are doing. Unfortunately ours did not. What she WAS good at was eye-rolling. Eye-rolling to such dumb tourist questions and comments like “we need to check-in to our next flight”, “Here is the flight number”, “Can you look us up by our last name?” You know, ridiculous things like that…I told Kris I might as well have been asking to board the next dragon to Antarctica. Probably would have elicited the same response. Fortunately, the lady next to her had been trying to help me out earlier but told me it was too early to check in. I immediately tried to grab her attention: “Do you recognize me???” She did, and surprise surprise: Got us two boarding passes in a matter of minutes. I knew we weren’t being that ridiculous.
4. While we were waiting at our gate for the flight before us to board and take off we got to witness the most fanatical and perplexing boarding we’ve ever seen. When they announced the gate was open, about 250 men (all men mind you) rushed the gate like the candy shop kids in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate factory. I don’t know if the first 50 were to receive free watches on the plane or what, but the crowding into line was crazy! You could literally see just body parts squeezing their way into line, hoping to map a few extra inches of real estate for the rest of the body to join them. We have no idea what that was all about, but it sure was entertaining. Thankfully, nothing similar happened to our boarding process.
We eventually did get on our plane, another 25 minutes later then it was supposed to be (which was 4 hours later then our original flight). Got into Amman a little after midnight hoping to find our hotel waiting to pick us up. They were a no-show. So after 15 minutes of standing, debating, and nearly falling asleep, we decided to snag a cab. I made sure to negotiate fair before we left, which was good because apparently, after demanding he knew the way, our cab driver did not know the way. In all the cab ride was 75 minutes, 3 stops, a phone call and a random shout out to a passerby before we got to Sun Rise Hotel at 1:45 in the morning (which felt more like 5 or 6 in the morning) Unfortunately do to some miscommunications, they thought we had canceled and so we waited another half an hour while they set up a room and tried to get us set up. We eventually did find our room and our two single beds and managed to finally sleep by 2:45 in the morning, with only 3 hours to go before we needed to be up to head to Petra…you know, our all day excursion hiking through the desert.
So there you go. 8.5 hours on planes, another 10.5 in airports, an hour and a half in buses and taxis and finally a bed to rest our heads. Thoroughly exhausting, mildly entertaining, VERY glad It’s over. Moving on in the Middle East. First stop, Petra!

Tales of the Beard 14

Not one of my happier moments. Taking the hot bus out of the confusing LCCT terminal.

Wham, bam, thank you Malaysia

Tuesday was our Malaysia day. Well half of it was. The other half was spent on Air Asia, which we came to figure out exactly why their fares are cheaper than others. You get what you pay for. The flight was 8 hours from Brisbane to Kuala Lumpur and the plane was big enough. But there were no TVs to view anything. Not that we would have anyways because I’m sure they would have charged. They charged for almost EVERYTHING. We understood with looking for cheap fares that this might be the case and I can understand charges here and there but I wasn’t even able to get water for free. That was the one the thing that really irked us. Charge us for food if you’d like, for extra services, drinks, whatever. But at least keep your passengers hydrated. It’s only civil. They offered bottled water but I wasn’t in the mood to pay what they were charging. All I wanted was a cup of water. No go. Kris was somehow able to procure a cup of hot water without charge, thankfully, and on the bright side, I wasn’t charged to take a leak. Suffice it say we are glad to be done with the airline. I write this to you from our flight on Wednesday, Gulf Air, going to Bahrain. They have given us drinks, lunch, TV service, headphones and even a little packet that included special socks and an eye wrap. TOTALLY different story. Props to you Gulf Air! Just shows you that putting the word “Air” in your name doesn’t make you like everyone else. (Air New Zealand & Gulf Air) Fingers crossed for Air Baltic and Ryan Air…

Our irritation didn’t quite end with the flight. We, unknowingly, were brought to Kuala Lumpur International’s LCCT, or low cost carrier terminal. It was a zoo! Signs all over the place, very hot and humid and extremely confusing. We were told our flight tomorrow was out of KLIA, the airports international terminal (all though we just took an international flight) and would have to take a bus there. Didn’t really know where to go for that, so we assumed the proper tourist initiative and asked anybody we could find. Paid for the bus to the other terminal which was 30 minutes away, figured out where we needed to be for tomorrow and finally made our way to the shuttle that took us to our hotel. We were hoping to get a chance to get into downtown KL but by the time we got to where we were staying, checked in and into our room, it was already 6pm, the biggest thing we were hoping to get a chance to do downtown (Petronas towers) closed at 7 and we knew it would be far too easy to get lost at night in the city. That coupled with the expensive train that got you there and back, it just didn’t seem like we’d be able to make it worth it. So we gave ourselves a break, ate a good dinner and took it easy for the evening in our room. We were fine with that. Malaysia had not been in our plans when we dreamed of the trip. It just happened to be our best way of heading west from Australia. The irony of the whole situation is after we had debated earlier in the evening about getting downtown, including Kris wondering if we should just Carpe Diem or seize the day, we ended up watching Dead Poets Society on TV. Would Robin Williams approve? Hmmmm.
Got up the next morning, had a good, free breakfast and successfully navigated another airport. Next stop, the Middle East! (After an 8 hour layover in the Kingdom of Bahrain of course…)

Since we really didn't do anything of great interest so here are a couple pretty wildlife pictures surrounding the hotel.

More photos from Australia

Tales of the beard 12 and 13

12 was taken in the downstairs bar of our Brisbane hostel. 13 comes from a lookout in Coolangatta as that afternoon sun broke through for about 20 minutes. Gorgeous!! The beard is very much starting to fill in.

Brisbane, Coolangatta and the airport goof

Well our time in Brisbane was not quite what we were expecting. Early that morning as we were waiting to board our flight, I happened to notice on our Air Asia flight receipt going to Malaysia that the starting point said Gold Coast – Coolangatta Airport. I had not heard of any place called Coolangatta and knew that Brisbane was more or less considered part of the Gold Coast or at least very near it. But to be safe, I decided we’d ask someone at the help desk in Brisbane’s airport to be sure.

Me: “Sir is this the Coolangatta Airport?”

Worker: “Excuse me?!?”

“Is this airport called Coolangatta?”

(Increduously) “Ummm, no, this is not. (Chuckles) Coolangatta is some 100 km from here.”

“Okkkkk, so, do you know how me might best get there?”

“Well let me see. (Fumbles with maps for 5 minutes) There seems to be a train that goes that way but it doesn’t go all the way to the airport. You’ll probably have to take some buses or a taxi or something the rest of the way. Yeah, people make that mistake a lot, quite honestly.”

(Clearly not amused)” Awesome. Thank you sir.”

And so our time in Brisbane would be cut a day shorter and involve some extra leg work on making sure we got down to the right airport. Fortunately, the guy at reception at our Brisbane hostel was very gracious and very helpful and not only set us up with our own room when we should have had a 10 person mixed dorm but also helped me figure out the right train and bus to take to Coolangatta. I hopped online and found a suitable hostel in Coolangatta and we breathed a sigh of relief for catching the snafu when we did and moved on about our day.

Our day about the city did start precariously when Kris happened to lose one of our room keys which meant losing out on a 20 dollar refund for turning it back in. There was a lot of talking back from the ledge before we moved on from the fiasco. She might not still be quite over it (her words, not mine) but I continue to remind her of my similar follies (losing a credit card before road trip anyone?) which outnumber hers 5 to 1. We enjoyed the rest of the day walking like crazy along their fairly exceptional riverwalk and outdoor market. Before getting back to the hostel for cheap dinner and cards, we snagged a few groceries to make the next day cheaper on us. In the end we were grateful to get a chance to see more of Australia. That coupled with the city not offering a whole lot to do that didn’t cost lots of money, especially since Brisbane was not high on our priority list.

Getting to Coolangatta the next day was smooth as can be. Unfortunately we got the cloudy, windy day tucked between two warm, sunny days so the Gold Coast and beaches weren’t displaying their usual fervor. However, we got out anyways, took in the Pacific for the last time and WHALE watched!! We had heard there were chances for seeing whales at Point Danger, but were half expecting to see anything. I think I scared Kris a little when one popped up suddenly, much to my surprise. We spent the next half an hour taking pictures and videos that don’t really do it justice at all. Nevertheless, we were thrilled. Finished off the last of our Australian cash and tried to get sleep early since we were planning our second walk to an airport of the trip 

Pictures: Our hostel in one of the oldest buildings in Brisbane, Brisbane along the riverwalk, the beach near Point Danger where we saw the whales, the coast in Coolangatta as the sun broke through

Tales of the beard 11

At an Irish bar downtown, Shmucky McGruffersons or something like that. Kris thought I deserved a proper pint. What a wife!!! That coupled with she was pretty stinkin cold and wanted a reprieve from the wind.

Moving north

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It’s early. Really early. The good part about cheap, early flights happened when we purchased the flights and enjoyed the cheap fares we had received. The bad part? Waking up for the flights. This one that we’re currently on, from Sydney to Brisbane, was a 6:20 flight, which meant waking up at 4am to leave David’s by 4:30, walk (yes walk… have you caught on to how cheap we are?) to the airport and be checked in by 5:30ish. Barf. The sad part is, it’s not our earliest flight. We have another that is about the same time from London to Venice and a pleasant 5:15 from Tel Aviv to London. Thank goodness Kris manages to sleep ok on planes. Me? I trudge through.
Our last day in Sydney was a good day. After getting a great night sleep Friday night and saying our goodbyes to Tegan, we did a couple loads of laundry (which we felt we earned) and made our way one last time to the city. Found some good Middle East clothes options for Kris, picked up a thank you gift for David and got down to Paddy’s Market in Chinatown. Paddy’s Market is like an endless strip and maze of kiosks of just about anything you can think of. Being at lower prices than other stores and being a Saturday afternoon, it was a zoo!! But we managed to find suitable trinkets and get out before we went crazy. The rest of the afternoon was spent roaming all over the city for a tacky souvenir shop (harder to find then we figured) to grab our Sydney magnet and move on. After a proper dinner at a yummy pizza/pasta joint we hit the sack early and called it a week.
We are extremely grateful for the awesome hospitality of our good Aussie friends, David and Tegan. We told them that any time they could find their way to the states and Chicago, we’d show them an awesome time. Till then, our gratefulness and trinket gifts will have to suffice. On to Brisbane!

(Pictures: Kris at Patty's Market, a beautiful church in Hyde Park, old men playing HUGE chess)

Tales of the beard 9 and 10

The first one comes to you from the Kiama blowhole, south of Sydney. We have now visited 2 of the worlds 3 natural blowholes!! Both have been underwhelming, to say the least… The second pic comes from the Bollywood ferry set.

Hooray for Bollywood

In what has amounted to by far the most random thing we have done on this trip so far, Tina and I spent almost our entire Friday on a ferry boat tooling around Sydney Harbor as extras for a Bollywood film. Hilarity, confusion and boredom ensued all day long.

On Wednesday, our friend Tegan had received a call from her agent about a job for Friday being an extra. She was torn about doing it since Friday she was supposed to hang out with us. Kris told her to go ahead, so she decided to ask her agent if we might be able to do it too. When this suggestion came up, we jumped at the opportunity, not just to start our budding film careers but more so after learning it paid and this would be a God-send way to pay off the stupid repair on the washing machine door.

So off we headed to downtown Sydney on Friday morning, not knowing really what to expect. Safe to say whatever it was, was not in our expectations. When we first got onboard we made our way to the top outside level and took our places around little setup tables, with fork, napkin and wine glass props set up. We were expecting to start getting involved once the ship left and patiently waited as the whole Indian crew bustled around, mostly chatting as the leading man got his silly makeup job. Well anyhow we spent the next 3 or so hours sitting around on the deck as they filmed very specific and what seemed to me, very dull scenes of banter over coffee that didn’t involve us three at all. About 15 minutes before lunch, after I had played 5 rounds of cards with myself and Kris was 20 minutes into a sun-bathed nap, we got called for our scene which was a wide panned shot of the whole top deck as the leading pair entered to sit down at their table. 10 minutes later we broke for lunch, which consisted of overly processed and very spicy curry downstairs. We thought we might be done but were told by film crew to stay on board because they’d probably use us again. Well, they never did and we spent the next 4 hours as prisoners aboard the ferry, playing plenty of cards and enjoying the hilariously coordinated dance moves the two actors were pulling off. We finally got off the ship at 5:00, having worked for 10 minutes and $288 richer (140 of that going to the washing machine repair) It wasn’t as glamorous as we thought it might be but we will still keep our eyes out for Bollywood releases in the coming year or two and make sure you all hear about it when we find ours. J

Hilarious moments include:

1. Early in the morning Kris had pulled out the deck of cards to play with Tegan. 3 minutes later a gust of wind caught the cards and blew about 20 of them all over the film set. Amidst her embarrassment and our laughter, the kinder peons on the film crew gathered them all up and gave them back to us.

2. Later that morning, Kris started doing one of her Syllacrostics out of her puzzle book. It caught the attention of the dance choreographer, Raju, as well as a passing fancy from the director and other members of the crew. It was clear a handful of them would have much rather been doing one then whatever it was they were doing.

3. The lead actor was wearing those neck cuff earmuffs all day long to keep warm and it became this running joke. When they were getting ready to film a scene, he wouldn’t even take them off himself, so some poor mate had to run in from off set, take them off of him and run back to where he was standing. Wow.

4. One of the extras that showed up that day was clearly pretty high on himself, name dropping with whoever would talk to him. A few minutes before our BIG scene, I caught him pulling out a little mirror and blush set, or whatever and start powdering his face. Turns out he was totally off scene for the whole scene! Priceless.

It’s safe to say, neither Kris nor I expected this as part of our Australian itinerary, but were glad to have done it, to have made the money to pay the repair and a little extra and entrenched ourselves in the Bollywood film circuit. ;)

Above pictures: Lead actor with his ridiculous earmuffs talking to director,

Tales of the beard 7 and 8

I’ll get in two at a time here. The first coming to you from Bondi Beach (notice Tina in the background practicing Tae-bo. Priceless.) The second is at Tegan’s parent’s house. The neard is getting quite itchy. *sigh*

The city, the beach and the bush

Currently I’m checking in with you guys from a train that is taking us from Bomaderry to Wollongong. How Aussie is that?? Our last two days in this country have been spectacular and totally different from each other. After spending all of Monday at David’s apartment getting rest and doing home and life maintenance, we set out with David Tuesday into the city yet again. He took us to a local Westfields for mid morning cupcakes and coffee before we made our way down to Bondi Beach. All three of us had remnants and hints of colds and the open ocean air would probably do us some good. The ocean front was gorgeous complete with miles of rocks, cliffs and spectacular vistas that you could walk along. After getting good exercise, another 1000 pictures and enjoying the hilarity that usually ensues when we get David at full throttle we had proper fish and chips on the beach. Soon after we made our way back to the city to meet up with Tegan in the hipster part of Sydney known as Newtown. For the Chicagoans reading, it most resembled a Wicker Park, everyone trying to look like they didn’t care that much when everyone knows they care too much. We played the part, looking for cheap, trendy clothes (which is nearly impossible) and snagging coffee at a bookstore. The evening commenced with a fabulous meal cooked by D and T (mostly D) before bed.

Wednesday was a wonderfully different kind of story. David had to work so Tegan took us along with her, first to her voice lesson in Oatley, then to good lookouts on our way to Wollongong where she lives, to an animal park near her parents house in Bomaderry and finally to their place. The animal park we went to was AWESOME! My best way of describing it is it’s all the things you want to see without any of the stuff you don’t. Our Australian animal checklist was pretty much kangaroos, koalas, dingos and wombats. This place had all of those plus a hilariously friendly camel, emus, crocodiles, wallabees and huge snakes and other reptiles. We got there an hour before it closed which made for hurried visiting but we also had the whole place to ourselves. The minute we entered the park, Kris literally made a running beeline to the Koala setup. Suffice it to say, they might not have shown quite as much excitement. The park also sold us pellets to feed to animals, which came in quite handy with our camel friend who was determined to eat every pellet we had and not share any with the goats and also the kangaroos which at the start, were content to enjoy us from a 40 yard distance, but after about 10 minutes of pellet trail leading were eating right out of our hands. So cool!!!!! Tegan’s parents and sister were the benchmark of hospitality. We ate great, enjoyed wine, billiards, piano playing and stories and even got in a shower under a rain nozzle (want one!!!!) before bed. After vowing to visit again in the future, we got dropped off at the train station and boarded our train back to Wollongong to meet Tegan at her work which pretty much gets you back to now. Australia is beautiful. As I type, the train is currently hugging the ocean front on our right side while the green hills and trees rise to our left. We’ll miss it when we leave but continue to look forward and be excited for the things to come. Till then, whenever that is.

Tales of the beard, part 6

At David’s apartment. This is our “having a lay in” day. We haven’t gotten out much, save to the Laundromat. It’s given our bodies a good break from all the walking.