Scaling New Heights

All of you who have fear of heights, please raise your hands. Since you cannot see me, let me tell you that my  hand is raised. It used to be worse before. I used to feel mortified at great heights. 

As part of various life experiences, I ended up in various places where the view from atop was breathtaking. I am a sucker for "views", so much so that when booking my flights I always want a window seat on the side that the flight enters the airport so I can see what it looks like down there, from up, in the aircraft. It was impossible to refuse getting to the top of places that held such awesome views. That was the first hurdle I crossed. I did not mind heights anymore. Only as long as I was within an enclosed glass tower (e.g. Eureka Towers in Melbourne) or on top of a hill (say, Mt. Coot-tha in Brisbane), where I knew I was safe. 

When I planned a trip to Sydney, a friend of mine insisted that I do the famous Bridge Climb. At the time, I was not aware of what it entailed and I let him convince me to go for it. Once I saw the bridge & suited up, it started to hit me that I might not be able to do it. As the group started the climb upwards, I felt less and less confident of being able to do it. At one point, my heart was in my mouth and I found myself thinking, "Karl was right in not doing this. One could just die from the fear". Once the moment had passed, I started to enjoy it immensely. The view all along was stunning. Watching the sunset from where we were, watching the city lights come on one by one and feeling the wind on the face made me forget that I feared heights. Since then, I've recommended the climb to everyone I've met and even managed to convince the afore-mentioned Karl to try it.

Chris Rawlinson gave me the first taste of rock-climbing when a group of 3 boys & 2 girls went to Mt.  Beerwah one weekend. I must have done less than 10m when the rocks, slippery from the light drizzle, started to alarm me. I looked down to tell Chris that I might not make it to the top and froze when I realized what a fall could do to me, from where I was. No harness, no guides, no safety measures here. Pure nature. The mountain, the hard rocks and the naked climb. Fortunately, experienced as he was, Chris guided me down the mountain. Later, watching the guys run up & back down like mountain goats, I felt a bit sheepish... I had barely done a small percentage of the climb they covered. Someday I would try this again, I decided. 

This morning, Sarat & I arrived at the Riverlife office at Kangaroo Point at 8.10AM, for a session of rock-climbing. Having done a few metres on a real mountain and considering the fact that there was an experienced guide to watch us over, I was confident I would be alright. However, that was not to be. Firstly, this was more real than I realized! This was a cliff with real rocks, just like the mountains, but worse in that it was an almost 90 degree incline. I barely made it 5m when I simply could not do anymore and had to be let down. Having a rope around my waist and a partner belaying was absolutely no help to my confidence. I could not get enough hand-holds and my shoes kept slipping. I hated it but I knew I had to give up. Standing stuck on a narrow foothold forever was not helping.

Then it was the turn of Kendra, a tourist from California, who had done some rock-climbing at an indoor gym. She had some initial trouble at the exact location that I had been stuck at but she managed to pull it off and make it to the top. Bravo! In his turn, Sarat scaled a little higher than I had but soon gave up too. I decided to give it another shot. Scrambled up, got stuck at the exact same location. The rock that I was trying to wrap my right leg and hand around was too broad for my height and I absolutely could not hoist myself up. I yelled down to Blair, our guide, that I needed a bit of help lifting up. With a little help from the belay, I conquered it and then there was no stopping anymore. I made it all the way up, just one rock short of the peak. Too excited to have gone that far, I did not even bother to attempt to go to the top, I yelled out to be brought down. I think, just knowing how I could get down using rope if I need to, with the help of the belay, had kept me going. 

I also noticed that once I gained a little more confidence, the hand-holds and foot-holds did not matter that much. As long as I was able to grip the rock for even a few seconds with my palms and shoes, I had the courage to move the body. Getting over that inhibition was the big deal. It felt good. We had paid for 2 hours of rock-climbing, so Blair asked us if we wanted to try the same climb again or another one. Sarat was done in, thanks to all the cricket from the previous day. It was scary business too, rock climbing for first timers. Kendra & I decided to try another climb, a different one. 

I let Kendra go first so I could get a mental picture of the landscape of the rock and also watch her movements. I was still a novice, I was not going to kid myself. The initial bit was hard because the rock seemed pretty smooth but she made it to the top fairly quickly. Then, it was my turn. I slipped about 4 times before I could finally start making progress. Blair offered to help with the first bit but I refused. I was sure I could do it. I took a deep breath and told myself I should not try to hurry. Go slow, go easy, this can be done. Within seconds, I was scrambling up more comfortably. There was again, another particularly uncomfortable rock but by now my body and mind co-operated better. Fear had taken a break. I gingerly placed both feet on the best foothold I could get and put both my hands on a single rock that jutted out, right above my head. I put my head down and hoisted myself up. Once that was done, the rest just happened.

One rock after another, I kept going. It felt great. I did not even believe anymore that I could not do it. I just knew that I could. I hesitated a bit at one point where a tiny stream of water wetted the rocks. I was going to look for an alternative when Kendra called out to not let the water deter me. So, I grabbed a dry part of one of the wet rocks and went on. It was a pleasure to find a flat surface at the top, where I could walk with both feet. After sticking my feet in crevices and balancing on my toes on small foot-holds, this was a great break. I wondered if I should stop because I had come up this far, it did not make a difference whether I made it to the top or not. Kendra yelled out and said to go for it. I remembered how I had not made the peak on the previous climb. I decided I was going to do this one right. So I did. 

When I looked down, my heart skipped a beat. I did not look down for long but I allowed myself another peek. I sucked in a deep breath and turned around, in preparation to get down. I called out to the belay to loosen the rope and let me down. It was exhilarating. I was right there, balancing on small foot-holds, grabbing on to bits of hard rock and looking down... feeling excitement rather than fear. I wish I had taken a moment to enjoy the view around me but that might have been a bit much to ask of a first-timer. 

I might do it again. I might do a naked climb on a real mountain or I might not. I do not know. What I do know is that I am grateful for my inane need to try everything in life and for that streak in me that would rather face the fear headlong than give up.

A Day Trip to Bribie Island

How has the new year been so far? Well, it has been all of 3 days and nothing has considerably changed from last year. Unless you count the fact that I haven't worked at all this year and yet expect to get paid for these days.

That's just me being cheeky there. Ignore me and read on. 

The day trip I spoke of in my last post turned out well. The weatherman said there was possible rain on New Year Day and definite rain on Sunday and Monday. As normal, (s)he was lying. It rained on Saturday. Non-stop. Drizzled, increased, stopped, poured, showered and did all of that in various permutations. May I also mention that the following couple of days have been bright and sunny with no sign of showers?

Praying that the rain will not deter my companions from going ahead with the trip, I set about getting ready for the day. I think it almost did in one of them but for my insistence and her baby's excitement at going to a beach. What we would do in the rain, at a beach, we were not sure. We decided to go because the plans were in place. 

As I announced later that day, someone up there really loves me. Or maybe the li'l one. Whatever! It was a couple of hours worth of train and bus journey before we arrived at Bribie. It could have been later but, as I said, someone up there loves me. We hopped off the train and standing right there, ready to leave as soon as we hopped on, was the bus to Bribie. We got off the bus near Woorim Beach and voila, no more rain! A quick scan of the what and where of our surroundings, Kid and I changed and took off towards the water. 

The long stretch of white sand felt great under our feet. The first splash in the brown waters of the Moreton Bay assured us there was no need to acclimatize. Perfect water temperature for a play. There were too many sea-weeds closer to the beach but we wanted to play with the waves further down anyway. It must be all the summer rain, we gauged. The clouds hid the sun but restrained from dampening our beach-day out.

Splash splosh splash. Click click click click. Shower. Change. Time for the bus. Rain. Whooosh.

It poured heartily while we ordered our lunch and spent 2 hours enjoying a yummy margherita pizza from Dominos, a delicious order of pancakes with maple syrup, cream and ice-cream and some crummy French Toast. While someone up there loved me and the kid, it was not the case with the kid's mum. 

She asks a boy on the beach if he would take a picture of us and he goes, "Ummmm... ah... No". 

She orders pizza at Dominoes and we all wait outside for them to call us when it's ready. 5 minutes later, another crowd goes in, orders and leaves with their order. Another 5 minutes and the same repeats. We peep in, the girls are chatting on phone, hugging each other and having a merry time, showing no signs of getting our order ready. Ten minutes later, mum and kid go in & are back in seconds, with the pizza. The order has been ready for a while, we waited for the girls to call us while they waited for us to go in. Duh! Hot pizza, anyone?

She orders French toast while I go for pancakes. We finish the pizza. A massive serving of pancake arrives. We've finished the pancakes, the coffee, a conversation and just missed our bus, so we have to wait an hr. We tease her that they must have forgotten her order. She goes in to check. Sure enough they have! What were the chances of that? When it finally comes, it is a tiny serving, all of 2 slices of bread with a smear of omellette. 

She walks to the bus driver on our way back to confirm that we are on the right bus. The driver snaps at her, "Didn't you see the board before you got in?"

Back to our day trip. Rest assured that her day being snappy did not meddle with the spirits for any of us, her included. From then on, throughout the journey, it rained like the rain Gods were having a gala to bring in the New Year. Stepped off the train at my station and walked into the damp air but no rain. 

As a kid, I used to believe that if I did something on the first day of the year, the rest of the year would follow suit. If that is true, this year is going to be fantastic! So far, the trend seems to be in order. A day trip on the first Saturday of the year. The next two Saturdays have been booked for day events too. All of them involve taking the same train and then another means of transport from the station. Interesting.

Xmas to New Year

I've been slack on the blogging front. I think up stuff to write, I have the material and then I get lazy. After a blissfully beautiful Christmas, which I insist on calling "the traditional Aussie Christmas" even though people tell me there's nothing traditional about an Aussie Christmas, I made up my mind to blog about it. The draft page remained open on my Chrome for a week before I shut it when I had to restart my PC for updates. That was the end of it.

It has been a crazy week. Busy and free. Full and quiet. Odd and lovely at so many levels.

Christmas Eve involved attending a family mass at the Holy Cross Church at Windsor. It was my first time. I've wanted to do that for many years now. A lovely experience. It felt nice to be at a place of worship after a long time. I had not realized until then that I missed going to a temple or church. It was touching to see that many people with an unfailing faith in God. There were bits when the priest was speaking that seemed to come straight out of the movies. That could be because movies take things out of life in an attempt to make it seem real. It felt out of place but that was just me, of course. I was allowed to take pictures but alas my mobile camera is not the world's greatest. In the end, we all held hands and prayed, then when everyone whispered "Peace be with you" to each other, in reverence, it took me a while to go from 'psst psst psst' and 'Merry Christmas??' to what it really was. Managed to return some myself, eventually.

Christmas was perfect. There is no other way to describe it. Ever since the festive season started, I had begun to feel more than ever that I wanted to see what the inside of a Christmas was really like. I wanted to spend it with an Aussie family and see what they do. Everyone I spoke with merely said "lunch with family", "exchange presents", "that's about it". I wanted to be part of it anyway but no such thing was going to happen. So, I got a stack of books from the library and told myself that I could atleast lose myself in the magical world of stories. That is when I received an invite to attend a 10-day camping trip to Melbourne, Sydney and Canberra. Excited as I was, it was too short a notice to obtain time off at work and to prepare myself. I hated having to let it pass. Then an angel sent me EM, girlfriend of RVR, from my Krav classes, at our pre-Christmas BBQ. 

RVR picked me up from home at 10 on the morning of Christmas Day. The afternoon was spent volunteering at a church, helping with the community lunch for the lonely/homeless/poor. It was interesting to meet so many people, listen to some of the older ones talk about life in their younger days, the even older ones discuss their times, really young ones argue about the fascination of their generation. EM's mum KM chattered away and introduced me to everyone. Such a social and amiable person, she is. Reminded me of my mum. Went back home to EM's parents where EM and I made dessert - chocolate biscotti tart with caramel filling. Yumm. Watching the family exchange gifts in private, is a memory to lock away and cherish. Showered, changed and got lost catching up with the rest of the extended family that came in for a fabulous Christmas dinner. Meeting all those people, the chatter, the excitement, the exchange of information was so overwhelming. The Christmas dinner was a gala affair, starting with PM "saying grace", the Christmas crackers, reading the cheeky jokes aloud, the 3-course meal, the conversations... can't say enough about it. Later, the exchange of presents, reading newsletters, sharing news, more talking, the excitement in the air was simply marvellous. At the end of an enjoyable evening came the goodbyes. 

I was the first to arrive when the day had just begun and the last to leave. A quiet drive back home with RVR, talking about stuff. Bedtime. A perfect Christmas.

Boxing Day was, of course, all about sales and shopping. Even though I had a late start to my day, thanks to the fun and frolic of Jesus' birthday, I shopped till the stores closed. The next day, it was more shopping again. My day started earlier but the spending spree was on till the shops closed. Buying gifts for others can be so much fun, especially when the salary's just been credited into your account. When you toss in a few things for yourself in there, it only gets better.

Back to work after the tightly packed 4-day weekend, which also included cleaning up the mess I call home. I loved it nevertheless, needed to exercise my brains. The 3 quiet days at work went by like a fantasy. Less people, no noise, lots achieved. 

New Years Eve was somewhat like Christmas Eve. Spent the evening with BT and NT. Only, this time it was watching fireworks instead of mass at the church. Walked back to the station, noticing how crowded the city gets on such days (where do all those people come from?) and eyeing the drunks warily, enjoying the colours and how Brissie comes alive on occasions like this. Twenty minutes before the switch to 2011 I knocked off for a good night's sleep.

New Year Day has started on a warm summer morning, just cool enough to enjoy a hot cuppa. Quiet, except for the odd bird. Shooting off to a day trip with friends. Looking forward to a fun day to reign in 2011.

The Ballet

What are your first thoughts when you hear the word 'ballet'?

In my mind's eye, I see a horde of little girls in white tutus, prancing around, on their toes, in the most graceful and light-footed moves in an elegant form of dance. If I drew the curtains a bit further back, I might include a lithe dame or two, again in the pretty white and translucent ballet dresses, gliding across the floor... hands raised in the air, one high up, the other on the way, feet raised to the tip of the big toe. No matter what else may change, the picture in my head consistently has the signature 'on-the-toes' pose, light, graceful moves, short white skirts with a well-fitted bodice.

The promos of the Queensland National Ballet's Hunchback of Notre Dame at The Old Museum and the internationally acclaimed Ballet Nacional de Cuba's Don Quixote at QPAC have pictures of the female protagonist flying in the air, arms and legs raised in difficult straight lines, both clad in red frilly skirts that look incredibly inviting to watch the performance. All the pictures of both ballet have various difficult poses and lifts of the ladies (some also include men) in their red garb. The scene in my mind opened out further to include red dresses and tall, slim beautiful women. 

You can imagine my surprise when I went to watch QNB's Hunchback of Notre Dame last week and the scene started off with a man in loose black clothing, curly hair falling all over his face. It was as if the scenes being played in my head had been hit by an earthquake. He was one of the characters. Why was I so upset? I can't explain. With the entry of another man, a priest and their miming acts, it started off seeming more like a play and less of what I had imagined a ballet to be. Soon, the ladies came on the stage. Tall, slender beautiful women, no doubt. I was already crying in my mind after the appearance of the black villainous creature instead of sweet children in white. Watching the women in long, frilly frocks, nothing like that in the pictures did not help! Worse? They did not do the toes act. Their feet thumped on the floor at their lifts. As they moved about with less grace than a ballet requires and more like the other forms of dances, my heart began to sinking. Fast and furious.

Eventually, the lead lady in red came into the picture. She had her ballet shoes on (the others had been in bare feet so far) was in her red frilly dress. She flew across the stage gently, stood on her toes and performed the signature light-footed steps of the ballet. In the light of my muddled feelings of the moment, I failed to appreciate her performance and wrinkled my nose at the grey dust under her ballet shoes. "These shoes have been used long enough, they fail to seem to blend with the feet", I found myself thinking. I did not quite like the shade of red that her dress was, either.

Eventually, as the turmoil in my heart settled and there was more of Talia Fowler with her ballet performance, I began to enjoy the show. I began to understand the genearl story of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, if not the intricate details. Every now and then, students of different levels appeared on screen and performed their bits. It was clearly a performance by students, coming through like one of those shows we watch when in college or school. Like one of the shows my dance school had put up in the earlier days.

Even though it did not quite live up to my expectations, it was not unenjoyable. Talia Fowler, as Esmeralda the gypsy girl, was good and so was the guy who played the hunchback Quasimodo. While I was not unhappy about the $35 I spent on the tickets, I could not bear to part with another $25 to drive a cab back home. It was much too much to spend on a night as such. I took the public transport back home. A good night but not memorable enough. My first experience of a ballet felt like expecting Nando's fiery chicken and ending up with bland pasta. Not quite the anticipated flavour, so hard to tell how good or bad it really was.

I might have loved to watch the Cuban show too but their tickets are priced way higher than I can afford. Plus, I've decided that if I'm watching a ballet again, I'd rather it be pretty little girls in white. To satisfy my inner self. That picture is worth a thousand times more than any lady in red.

A Dragon In My Garden

I finished my book, finished my blog and was about to log off after a quick check of my emails. I heard leaves rustling in my backyard. I figured it must be a possum. It sounded a little less heavy but it was definitely the sound of a short sprint. I turned to find a giant black and white lizard. He took a quick sprint, like a little puppy and stopped, looking upwards at the sky. I grabbed my camera and hoped he would not go away. He stayed still like a rock for a few minutes. Looking through my lenses and trying to place him, I almost thought I was pointing at a dried root or a small rock. I looked away, placed him in his surroundings and went back to my lenses. The rock was him. Click!

Ring-tailed Dragon (Ctenophorus caudicinctus)

He stayed in that position for another few seconds while I turned and came back inside. Another few quick steps, like a puppy that could only be a few days old, and he stops. Looks up. Stares at something for a few seconds. I stare at him. He does not have the flat face of a lizard, it is shaped like a more developed animal, almost like a dog if you stared long enough and tried to match it. Then he takes off again, I hear the rustle of leaves and silence but I can't see him. 

Who is he? I am not even sure he is a 'he'. So, I turned to my best friend, Google. I had thought it might be easy enough to find a picture with a name to it, if I searched for a black and white striped lizard. Not so. First of all, it could be a lizard, gecko or something with an entirely different nomenclature. Second, I had forgotten about creatures that could camouflage against the colours of the garden. I had simply assumed that this fellow could not because he was black and white against the brown and green of the garden. Looking at some of the features listed, I realized that my picture was not good enough to tell me. I could not even say for sure that this one had lidless eyes. I tried to narrow down my search to Queensland garden lizards. Better but still not enough. 

I plodded on. I had to find out what roams in my garden! I found out that skinks and dragons are the most common ones that prowl the gardens in summer. Brilliant! I kept changing the criteria of my search until I finally arrived at a website called the Aussie Photo Guide. There was a picture of a lizard (at least I had that right) that was Aussie and looked like the one I had seen a few minutes ago. The tail was a definite match. The body, well, close. This was it! My guest was the ring-tailed dragon. Scientific name Ctenophorus caudicinctus.

While I was on my search, I chanced upon something that was unique to Queensland. The world's most beautiful lizard, the stunning Golden Tailed Gecko. I am pretty confident I will never see one of these in my garden but I felt it deserved a mention anyway. Pretty as it can get.

I am getting to know the friends in my garden better. It is lovely to see animals wander in your garden. Of course, only as long as the doors are kept closed so they do not decide to visit me inside the house. Like the big sticks-for-legs spider I found in my sink the other day. It is a pity I identified him as a pest and chucked him out, without as much as a picture or a mention in my blog. It took a dragon for that.

Noisy possums, the graceful turkey, bees & other insects, pretty butterflies, spiders, dragon and a whole range of unidentifiable but loud and noisy birds. Who next? There must be something else I cannot see, for I can still hear my dragon friend slinking around among the dried leaves. Good luck to him. Or her.

If you are interested, there is a lovely list of Aussie lizards and frogs, with photographs, compiled by one John Sullivan in February 2003, here. 

QBE RiverFire

Finally, the much-hyped RiverFire is over. The show was spectacular, as one would expect one of fireworks to be. From Kangaroo Point, we had a view of the fireworks from five different spots - in front of us and either side. It was a beauty to watch the fireworks in sync across all five points, and with the music on station 104.5

The first dump-and-burn was the longest and most spectacular! To watch a black jet shoot past spitting fire from it's tail... fire that grows bigger and bigger until the tail is larger than the F111 itself.... it was amazing to watch it zoom past us. When the second one was about to start, the fireworks stopped and there was silence for a while, as the music slowly changed. Everyone looked up and voila, there it was! The third one was unexpected and streaked across with a dazzling purple fire-tail that burned a bright orange as it got bigger. It was totally worth changing my mind in the last minute and head to Kangaroo Point, for the dump-and-burn was definitely the highlight of the event for me.

The fireworks themselves were spectacular. My favourite was the one where you saw a purple fire blazing on the boat and watched as it slowly grew into orange sparks and turned into huge green stars that exploded into a gigantic red ball, before crumbling to a massive ball of golden dust and finally disappearing into the dark skies. The city was a pretty view with lights, coloured smoke, sparkles and starry colours. 

The jam-packed crowds were not the kind of 'jam-pack' that one would find in India, a lot more relaxed. That reminded me that I need to take things with a pinch of salt when it comes to talking about crowds out here. I grabbed a sausage and onion roll while I was there, wish they were selling beer too. It was hard to watch families munch on steaks and take a swig of beer, while all I had was the roll and water. 

Inspite of a prediction of rain and dark clouds in the sky, no such thing happened. The weather remained lovely and perfect for the night. It was a pity that I missed the sights at the Story Bridge. From what I've heard, the best fireworks happen there. It's hard to pick the perfect vantage point, for you can only see so much from each point. Either the 5 fireworks in sync and multitude of colours or the Story Bridge or you miss the dump-and-burn. There's always a catch. Maybe next year, I'll catch to the Story Bridge sights. After all, the F111 jets were the highlight of this year, their last year before they fly off to the Americas for maintenance. 

It was a lovely night. A wonderful way to kick off the Brisbane Festival, starting tomorrow. I bet the free RiverFire event surpassed the paid Opening Night event of the festival, at King George Square. 

9K Endurance Test & QBE RiverFire

9K Endurance Test #1: Managed a non-stop 10k run in approx 75 minutes. 

The plan was to just see if I can last an hour. I was hoping the weather would help. Slathered on sufficient sunscreen for good measure, anyway, laced up and headed out around noon. The weather was rather pleasant. I stuck to the riverside, just to be sure. The sun peeped in occasionally but was rather well-behaved. 

Got a first-hand view of the preps for tonight's RiverFire. The Goodwill Bridge was closed and the entrance caged  up, with large boards redirecting walkers. People had started setting up spots by the riverfront, picnic blankets, chairs & tables, baskets and all. Some had settled on benches, under the trees. Everyone was with families and friends at the Botanic Gardens. Also noticed, thanks to kids playing, that the Botanic Gardens have a children's playground. 

On the way back, I got a good view of crowds forming at the Southbank. People have started picking spots and settling in, at their fave vantage points, 8 - 9hrs before the event. Triple MMM, docked in at Rockstar Lounge at Southbank have started their countdown, amidst playing variety music that kept me company all through the run. Next endurance test might be in slightly hotter weather.

Back home now and all set to get ready for the RiverFire. With 16000 kilos of fireworks, fabulous Blackhawk performances and the famous F111 dump-and-burn lined up, it's no wonder that most of Brisbane and surrounding suburbs will be there. I missed the Blackhawk and F111 rehearsal in the city yesterday but can't wait to watch. Thanks to Nathan and the real estate guys, I've got one of the best vantage points for fireworks - level 28 of one of the city's taller buildings! If I was worried about missing the jostling crowd and madness of the outdoor vantage points, the latest plan includes a spot on the Victoria Bridge to watch the dump-and-burn. I've heard so much about it, I can't wait!

Wondering if I ought to make my way to the RiverFire to watch PowderFinger play live or head towards the late night DJ stands in the city centre. The options are too many, not enough hours in my day. 

Triple MMM is hyping up the RiverFire official song so much, I've stuck myself on that station for the day now. Their countdown says 4.5 hours to go. I have about 2.5 before I walk over and secure myself a good vantage point. So much preparations to do and so little time! The excitements kicking in, can't sit down any more. 

After 3 days of warm weather, the bureau says there might be rain in the offing tonight. Hoping it won't rain down the show. After all, I'm about to strike off another item on Queenslands 150-must do things.

Queensland's Wildlife

I've realised that it is not so much the driving in India that is the problem but the drivers. After a 30-minute near nauseous bus drive to the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary today, we finally arrived. Indian driver. Sad.

Expensive as the entry was, one can easily spend a good half day with the animals. Our first encounter was with this little advertised pony.

Then we met Mr. Little Kangaroo. The fella was grazing all by himself and did not move when I went up to him. Excited, I asked my husband to quickly take a picture. If he had, there would have been me standing and traces of a kangaroo pentaloping. We walked around the lake with numerous ducks and a couple of raptors, before moving on to watch a show of the birds of prey.

We met Milo, the barn owl, Schnapps, the barking owl, Omega, the wedge tailed eagle, Illuka the white-bellied sea eagle and Zephyr, the brahminy kite. Such grace. Such agility. What charisma!

Kelly with Illuka

Our next show was the sheep one. It was my first time watching the sheep-dogs (Border Collies and Kelpies) get the mob in order and drive them into the yard and then the shearing area. The shearing itself was another experience. It was a little painful watching the poor animal going under the knife and hurt a little each time he protested. However, when Daniel was done shearing, he flung the rug of fleece on the counter and it was impossible not to admire his handiwork!

Once the shows were over, we moved on to meet the famous Aussie buggers.

Hungry Emu

Sleeping Koala, how cuddly

Kangaroo poses, "Will you leave me alone, now?"

The rest of the guys are all in cages, like any other zoo I've seen but all different animals. From platypus to monitors, dingoes, crocs, snakes to beautiful, coloured parrots, larakeets, turkeys and flying foxes hanging upside down, there is such a lot to watch. A big part of my 'new culture' learning experience.

Now, if only I could convince my husband to go to the Ekka with me tomorrow, it would be one hell of a farm life experience.

B&W - Playing It Safe?

When I walk to work every morning, all I can see around me is men and women in black. An occasional white or grey or maybe even navy blue but black black black everywhere it is. A rare sight of red or blue is a treat to the eye. I wonder if I ought to feel overdressed in a dash of colour but I refuse to be.

We go out in the evenings and there more black, grey, white, dark-as-the-night blue with a little more colours around but hell, what's with the black madness? Maybe, people just get out from work and walk around. Like me. Yeah?

On weekends, we go further out and walk around. More black. Blue jeans, black tees, black jackets, black boots, black, black, black. Black and black, white and white. I cannot imagine having a cupboard full of black and white clothes. How do you decide what to wear when you are going out? Maybe that is the thing. You do not need to decide. Just pick anything, it is all black or white anyway... and you will 'fit in'. Is that right?

No wonder when Aussies visited, back home, they always noticed a lot of colour. What do they have against wearing colour, I wonder. It is only with clothes. There are coloured lights, colour in stores, multi-coloured ice-creams, lots of beautiful colours but they just won't wear them. Maybe they are just playing it safe, so they won't go wrong with what they wear, so they will fit in.

Half A Day At South Bank

After 3 weeks of saying I would do it, I finally made it to South Bank yesterday. (Dean, are you listening?). We walked to QPAC and were about to head towards the man-made beach and the markets, when the husband pointed to me a building with a large butterfly on it. The Insectarium level of the Queensland Museum at South Bank. Off we went to check it out.

The Mutt, thanks to wikipedia

We started off on level 2, for that's where we were, with the usual museum-ish stuff like old coins, museum store, a large skeleton of the Muttaburrasaurus Langdoni. The name of this dinosaur comes from the place where it was first found 'Muttaburra' and the man who first found the partial skeleton Doug Langdon. I looked and it and though, "Boy, is it huge", for when I stood  near it, I barely reached up to his belly. Girl behind me is arguing with her boyfriend, "I don't think this is real, it can't be this small". Small? Alright, time to move on.

We walked further down into the world of absolutely beautiful, natural colours and combinations like we had never seen before! The Insectarium with the butterfly, moth and beetle collections of the Butterfly Man of Kuranda, Fredrick Parkhurst Dodd (popularly known as F P Dodd) and his son Alan P Dodd. The exhibition displays 28 beautifully arranged showcases of butterflies, moths and beetles, collection over a period of time from 1917 through to the 1960s. The butterflies are mounted with such perfection and in such a lovely arrangement that one must marvel not only at the patience with which Dodd and his children collected the species but the creativity and patience involved in preparing the showcases. It is no wonder that banker Dodd quit to focus fully on his love for these collections. Until I saw this exhibition (which, I later found out, was a temporary one and not always on display... lucky me), I had never known butterflies existed in so many varieties and most definitely not moths!! Moths in my head, until yesterday, conjured pictures of ugly brown butterfly-like insects. Not any more. The beetles! Jewels. That's what they looked like. There is even an exhibit with 4 beetles in a case, labelled after each of the musicians. 

One of the cases of the beetle collection, courtesy the museum's website

Then, there was the miscellaneous collection of items ranging from fire engines from various decades, bikinis, ceramics, air-planes and just about anything the Queenslanders feel proud of. Another floor up, an amazing number of animals, birds and sea creatures. I never even knew there were so many kinds of those. In Queensland alone? No joking! Then, the exhibits of artefacts created/used by the aboriginals. 

A good couple of hours later, our grumbling stomachs forced us to leave the museum and we left, having covered just level 2 and one of two wings on level 3. There is still levels 1, half of 3 and 4 to cover. Another day. Looking forward to it. 

We walked past QPAC, the Wheel and arrived at the weekend Lifestyle Market of South Bank. The walk-way is pleasant, made especially to protect us from the summer sun, it appears. Called The Arbour, it's touted as one of the attractions of South Bank. The streets were lined with stores, restaurants and fancy places - again, to visit another day. Today, we walked on the side with the food-court, watched the ibises by the flowing water. As we arrived at the man-made beach (Yes Dean, you're right, it is a joke), we hit a crowd of people waiting for a street-performer to being his show. 

The Arbour, courtesy the South Bank website

Steve from Adelaide, was one heck of a street-performer. Have not seen others, so I cannot tell whether his performance was out of the world but it was definitely engaging. He was a great speaker, simply fantastic at getting himself a reasonable sized crowd and making everyone laugh. We went there for a peek and ended up staying till the end. For once, my husband did not want to leave (his usual refrain at such events is, "I'm bored, let's get out of here"). He juggled 3 fire torches, then 4 and finally 5. My favourite was when he balanced on top of a tall ladder, without support, juggled a fire torch, a large knife and an apple, as he took bites out of the apple and talked to the crowd encouraging them to cheer. As if his cheeky comments and sarcastic sense of humour was not enough, he met his match in a little 6 yr old Tess who almost stole his show. "Shut up, it's my show", he said. 

Five dollars poorer after the show, we took a peek at the "man-made beach", and shot off to The Crepe Cafe for some beer and snacks. A beef & mushroom crepe and tomato-mushroom omelette later, we walked back home along the river. The lights reminded us of Clarke Quay in Singapore, only we liked this better. It was 11 degrees and awesome for a walk. Back to Queen Street Mall, the familiar crowd, past the painter beginning to set up his show, down the usual stores unusually open late on weekends, a pit stop at a couple of troopers... we arrived at home. A book, sandwich and cop show later, blissful sleep.

What's on for tomorrow?

Change Is Good

I was told "Even if you hate it there, you will be better for the experience."

That refrain has been the basis of my decision. I am a sucker for experience. Everything else, 'get in line'.

It is like stepping into a giant wheel (roller coaster ride, they call it?). I can live without it, I don't really need to do it, eh? A slight push. Are you sure? Are you scared? Maybe. Maybe not. Dunno. I don't want to admit anything. I wonder. Why am I not doing it? There doesn't seem to be a good reason. Might as well give it a shot. So, go...

The preparations, the wait and the leap. So exciting! Thank God for that push! Thank God for those seemingly meaningless questions with no answers! 20 seconds of stress and then whoa, what a rush. So much fun. Such a high!

Slowly, as the I settle in, the momentum seems to slow down. Eventually, the dust will settle and all the fascinating things will become BAU. That every time I head back to my old life, there will be a spike of emotions, only makes the journey more enjoyable. Having the best of both worlds. Learning from the worst of both.

I must agree, even if I hate it enough to go back to where I came from, I will be better for the experience. I don’t see the hatred coming, I'm loving it. Plus, I already feel great about everything new that is enriching my life. I’m grateful for the opportunity that Life has given me, everything that has come with it and more that awaits…

Toilet Signs

We've all seen graffiti on the walls and back of doors of public toilets. Off late, it appears to be common practice to put up notices - posters, print-outs - appealing to people to keep it clean, flush the toilets, etc. I even saw those in Singapore which is, by far, the cleanest city I've been to. That's understandable... public toilets are used by so many people, some of them think it's "unclean" to touch the flush buttons/handles, etc. Yuck but hell, it's true!

I have found it rather disgusting that this has been a necessity at many offices. It's shocking! Educated professionals, why do you need to be told? 

So, when I did not find such a note up in the 'ladies room' at my new workplace, I was pleased. Enough to notice it. There was another note, though. Rather strange. 

New airlock flushes. Please press button hard.

I nearly laughed. Until I tried to press the button and realized what they meant. Yeah, if it was not for the note, the place might stink. I mean, seriously, you need mammoth strength to get this thing working. Whoa!

I don't know if I had missed it earlier or it was only put up recently but I noticed another instruction yesterday. A printout on the door. It started with a cheery 'hello ladies' and continued to say that this was a reminder for us to keep the place clean... yada yada yada. Then, the real message. I don't have the exact words here but it is pretty much this

Please flush after using the toilets and check to ensure that it has worked

I struggled to control my laughter. Imagine a woman laughing by herself in the restroom,  my colleagues would think I'm mad and it is far too early for them to know that! Every time I walk into the restroom, I have to rush in because it is hard not to laugh and that makes me want to pee. LOL!

Welcome To Sunny Brisbane

After holidaying in Singapore for 4 days, it was time to head to the new place I was going to call home. Having been through the 'new country experience', this should have been easy. 

Plus, I was being pampered. I arrive at the airport to a warm hug & a cup of coffee, a friend I hadn't seen in ages, a bag of grocery, a sleep-in at a friend's place till I could check-in, maps and directions, not to forget dollars for my expenses from another dear friend. What more could I ask for? The weather in Brisbane is simply superb. Of course, the clean place and traffic don't surprise me anymore. Mmm, I could get used to this!

Been to the Queen Street Mall a few times now. Liked it each time. Free-for-all salsa/meringue/cha cha, German sausage, awesome awesome.

A fantastic drive in a convertible with friends, checking out furniture, watching the river, it just keeps getting better! I'm even enjoying cooking. It's different, using an electric stove with hot-plates, different kind of ingredients and oh boy, it took me all evening to cook rice & cabbage curry with scrambled eggs but hell, it felt good. 

Except that I miss driving in Bangalore, the familiarity at times, homesickness hasn't quite set in yet. I can't wait to move into a rental and start furnishing it! Starting work tomorrow and looking forward to it. More new experiences, new people, exploring the city...

PS. This was written a day before I started work, only posted now but I'm leaving it unchanged. Been at work 2 days now and by God, my favourite part of the entire Brisbane experience (ok, second favourite, cos my favourite's the riverside)