The Jungle Blog

So, this one has been a long time coming, but I was trying to get some photos/videos off my phone, who was refusing to co-operate. However, thanks to the magic of Andrew Victoria, we're back in business. So, without further ado, my trip to the rainforest.

NB: For the vast majority of the time, I couldn't actually see my phone screen due to the glare of the sun, so there's a very real possibility that these pictures are awful.

So, I had to get up really early to go into the rainforest- I was picked up by the tour bus from N Joy and we sped along toward adventure. My tour guide was kinda weird- he kept acknowledging that no one really wanted to listen to him, but this didn't seem to deter him from speaking. He was also morbidly obsessed with Steve Irwin and kept touting how we would be able to see the actual spot where Irwin died (Neato!). We stopped off at a look out point where one could see some of the reef and the jungle.

We then sped along toward a wildlife sanctuary, where there were cassowaries, which can split a man in half, and ducks, which can't but had a go anyway- while I was feeding an adorable little kangaroo, a horrid bird flew up at me to try and get the food for itself, after I specifically refused it anyway for not being cute enough. Yes, I said boo to a goose and in response was viciously attacked. (This would actually be a theme of that day- being attacked by animals.)
But not before I held a koala, a python, and a motherfucking crocodile. Yeah, that's right. An actual, living crocodile. And I held it, with my unprotected human hands. How badass am I right now?
However, the croc wasn't half as problematic as the drop-bear, oh, I'm sorry, I mean 'koala'.
A koala which tried to eat me. As in, sniffed out its meal, leant back and opened its maw- at which point, the keeper stepped in and pulled him out of my grasp. The Koala was named 'grizzly' (I wonder why), so I can say I've faced being eaten by bears both drop and grizzly. I'm pretty sure I'm the most bad ass person in my social circle now. And I'm not even finished yet.
So, in the sanctuary, I saw pelicans, cassowaries and a lungfish (which is fucking horrific, btw), crossing three other animals off my Ozzie bucket list (how do I only have four months left?!). I also fed kangaroos for the second time, as well as some weird birds, and, inadvertently, one overly-eager duck. 
Then, it was on to the river and this is where things get really bad ass.
Anyone who read the last post and clicked on the link at the end will have read how crocodiles on the Daintree river have been becoming more aggressive, and that one croc actually attacked a river ferry a couple of years ago. This is the croc that I encountered on my trip along the river. We were chugging along, and I'll admit I was kinda bored, having only really seen mangroves at this point. Then I spotted two eyes popping out of the river, staring, I thought, right at me. I pointed them out and we all marvelled at this pair of eyes, which belonged to a croc named 'Scarface', as our guide informed us. After a while, the eyes submerged and we all thought that was that. I'll show you my picture versus one I found on google:

So, that's what I saw; pretty cool, but not all that threatening, right?

Found here

That was what I was actually up against. And I say 'up against' because guess what? Scarface resurfaced, and our guide informed us he was stalking the boat. 'Don't worry, though' he added, 'they hardly ever attack boats'. This was not as comforting as he thought. Had I read the article before I went, I might well have abandoned ship then and there, even though this would have simply put me even more in Scarface's domain. So, I can now say I've been stalked by a monocular bull croc named 'Scarface'. Jari, step down as the badass-king of our friendship group. We have a new monarch of badassery.

This guy.

After the river cruise, we stopped off at the point where you could see EXACTLY WHERE STEVE IRWIN DIED! ERMAGERD! After telling us how he died for the third time, TJ, our tour guide, let us off the bus and made us wait at this point for what felt like an inordinately long amount of time. I think he wanted us to fully appreciate that THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE STEVE MOTHERFUCKIN' IRWIN CEASED TO LIVE!!1!

Taste the death.

Then, we had lunch at an ice cream factory. Sadly, this is not what it sounds like- lunch was provided by the tour group and we sat and ate outside the ice cream factory. Still, I did sample some of the ice cream and it was delicious- chilli and chocolate, which I always think of as mine and Freya's flavour. There was maybe a touch too much chilli in there, so rather than cooling my pallet (Cairns is tropical, you know), it just made me reach for the water jug.
Also, while eating I walked into a spider's web. My natural reaction was to shake myself free and then to move on as though nothing had happened. This is the spider into whose web I had walked:

It's known as the Golden Orb spider and can kill people. And I shook its web whilst entangled in it. This is my life now.
Oh, also, the ice cream factory's toilets had a confusing use policy:

"Strictly" *nudge**nudge**wink**wink*. This reminds me of Rik's story about a friend who became a "Taxi driver".

After this, it was onto the rainforest, and I fulfilled another childhood wish by trekking into the jungle, even going barefoot at one point.

Sadly, this was a rather uneventful trek, even though we saw some more venomous spiders and I ate a live ant (I was told I could- it tasted of lemon). We were told to look out for cassowaries, which, as previously stated, can split one in half, but sadly none approached. Oh well, I'm still more badass than you, Dr. Fowkes and all (y)our little friends.

The next and final stop was at the beach, where I encountered this lovely sign:

I love the way the tentacles are artfully missing his lack-of-crotch.
I also want to point out that the beach looked like this:

Ok, the photo doesn't do it justice. Just understand that it was fucking beautiful- the water was pristine and inviting and full of killer jellyfish. *Sigh* Nice one, God, you got us. Also, I totally wrote 'Moi Smells' in the sand but it didn't come out in the picture- but it was definitely there, so, yeah. It's been written on both hemispheres. It's official now.

Anyway, after this we pretty much just headed back to the hostel, but I wanna share one final anecdote with y'all. On the way back, I struck up a conversation with one of my fellow tourees (I don't like how much that sounds like 'Tory', oh well), whose name was Peter. Peter was having a mid-life crisis. You could tell because he kept saying 'this is my trip around the world and then after this, it's settling down and having kids' and then laughing hysterically. Peter lived in San Francisco, but had been all over and was basically filling in the blanks on his travel check-sheet before he reproduced and his life ended. I can only hope I've done as much when my mid-life crisis comes around.
God bless you, Pete, wherever you are, and God help your children.

More photographs to be found here.

Demonstra-babble

So, I haven't updated y'all in a while, and quite a lot has happened in that time.
No, really. Some of it would have merited blog posts of its own.

So, we had a punch party.
Everyone dressed up (Martin went for a Sound of Music feel- Lord knows why). And the punch was non-alcoholic so I definitely did not get tipsy and fall asleep in the midday sun, only to be woken by the nudging of a passing stranger's foot. There was also a bocce tournament, and I am assured that I was amazing, as I threw the ball the furthest, which is surely the point of bocce.

I also met with Charlotte for coffee, who pointed out that I overuse the word 'demonstrable', causing me to move on to the word 'emphatically'. Who knows what my buzzword will be when I kick the 'emphatically' habit- previous addictions include 'ostensibly' (brought to my attention by Chaz), 'obtuse' (Aspen) and 'appreciative' (Esmond).

I've also been to two plays with Andrew recently: Gaybies- verbatim interviews with the children of gay parents staged with panache, flair and pizazz, and with Geoffrey Rush in attendance (yeah, I was standing a foot away from Lionel Logue)- and Act A Lady, which was akin to an Almodovar film being staged as a pantomime (yes, it was that bizarre). Act A Lady really warmed my heart because it reminded me so much of the old boards I used to tread in Broseley, Wenlock and Horsehay; it was the first play I've seen in at least a year that wasn't a polished, big-budget, unsinkable whizzo affair. And that was good for me- the tech was minimal, the acting unaffected and the sets simple. I should see more theatre like that and remind myself what's possible even without money. 

In other news, I was nearly hit by a car (and I mean, really nearly- it was two inches away) whilst driving about with Victoria and Finny (who's a Doctor Who fangirl- yay!). This guy came out of nowhere and nearly smashed right into the side of the car I was sitting on. Luckily, Victoria swerved, because if she hadn't I would have been hit head on by a car because this guy was not stopping. I remember muttering 'Oh, God' and Finny screamed.
And then the guy had the nerve to beep at us. Asshole.

It was also Australia day on Saturday, and I drove with Aspen, Martin and Victoria to Aspen's hometown, (in the car on the way, ABBA's 'The name of the game' got stuck on repeat- I miss you, group 4 (except Joseph)), where her Dad was named 'Citizen of the Year', which was pretty cool. She got her picture in the paper, which was kinda cool. And there was free face painting, which was super awesome amazing.

Don't worry, it's gone now. By which I mean the beard, not the face paint.

We then went for a party at a friend of Victoria's, which was, quelle surprise!, a barbecue. It was very fun and I got to meet many colorful new characters, including a descendant of bigfoot.

The next day we went back to Victoria's, and there this happened:

 

Eat your heart out, Mary Poppins.

They took all the condors and put em in a condor museum

My word, I haven't updated you in a long time; I'm sure you're all clamouring to find out what I've been doing during spring break (woo! Spring break!). Don't worry, I have a good excuse for this catastrophic lack of updates. I was building a house.

Travis, eat your heart out.

As you can see, construction was complex, arduous and colourful. But my god, it was worth it. Jason just built some stupid robot of which no photographic evidence exists whatsoever- it was sadly destroyed when my house collapsed. Because I pelted it with bricks until it fell apart. Good times.

These pictures were taken at the Melbourne Museum, which was a mix of nearly all the museums I've ever visited, with the exception of the museum of torture: it had art, it had skeletons, it had condors (more condors than necessary, if you ask me); there was even a space for nap time!
It was divided into two floors- on the bottom floor, there were all the animals (it was the first museum I've seen which contained live animals- it had ants, flies and (shudder) redback spiders)- this was where we spent the majority of our time, especially in a Noah's ark type room with literally hundreds of specimens judging you from their plinths (pictures below). The second was split between an exhibition on the mind, themed like a labyrinth, with chambers that simulated dreams and pods where people ranted at you about how they're special, which I found interesting but have no pictures of, because my battery ran out, and one on puberty which Jason didn't let me see because he wanted to visit the giftshop- now I'll never know what happened to Peter, Jane and their rapidly changing bodies.

It really was a lot of fun- I got to see whales

It was skinless when I found it. Honest.

and dinosaurs

and bugs

and a tonne of taxidermied critters

Look, birds! Nowhere else I can see them, nosiree. 

It really was a lot of fun, and I didn't even see it all. I got in for free too, which was the icing on the cake.

I also got to see The Dark Knight Rises in IMAX, which I guess was the marzipan figurine on the cake. It's awesome in IMAX, but it does make some glaring continuity errors more noticeable, namely who's driving the truck. But well worth the money to see it again, only this time seven storeys high. The Melbourne Museum actually has the world's 3rd largest screen- the second largest is in Sydney, where I'm going next week (squee!), but I probably won't check it out. Alack.

A series of unfortunate events

I've just completed a syntax assignment; it might not have been pretty, it might not have been clever, but I got it in and that's what counts (that's what he said).

It felt odd to be doing an assignment and not complaining to Becky about it. In fact, I had to do the entire thing without any of the regulars (yet again, totally what he said); Becky going on about how she'll fail and spectacularly failing to fail, Rosie not starting until a month after the deadline and breaking her foot, James knowing all the answers and not telling me AND seeing a point to studying syntax and not telling me.
Yes, much like the final season of house, all the regular characters and their endearingly frustrating antics were gone, leaving only one incredibly grizzled, beaten man to try and solve yet another pointless and nonsensical mystery on his own and pulling the answer out of his ass at the last moment.

I totally just compared myself to Hugh Laurie.

Above: me. Definitely.

Doing a syntax assignment usually comes with a sense of camaraderie; we were all storming the beaches of futility together and even if we weren't enjoying ourselves (except for Jimmy boy, being the rough and tumble scot that he is), we were at least together. Now, it's just me: I did speak to some others in the class about the assignment, and even tried expressing my disdain for it, but either ozzies are much more studious than Brits or I was talking to the squares because they simply didn't get me.
Alack.
The only comfort is that Becky will have to do an assignment without me...whining. That'll show her?


It was also odd to not be on facebook during an assignment- just as workplaces have coffee breaks, assignments have facebook breaks; but, having kicked the metaphorical caffeine habit, I resorted to the much more productive les mis breaks, where I would watch the trailer for the upcoming film:

and then one of the songs, chosen at random from the jauntier numbers:

and I'd pantomime along. Of course, I had to be silent, still being in the Rowden White.

In my defense, it's a really good trailer, and the soundtrack is possibly the best of any musical ever. The sad thing is, this lead to me singing 'I dreamed a dream' to myself, and several accused me of wanting to be Susan Boyle.
Shame on them. This song existed long before the scotswoman claimed it as her signature, and I've had it stuck in my head (rotating with 'Kiss me' and Invocal's back catalogue) since I was in a production of this stirring show, what, eight years ago? Damn. Let's have a moment of silence for my adolescence, shall we?

Anyway, the outcome is I'm super-excited for the new Les Mis film and everyone in the Rowden White thinks I'm a loser, which I guess is better than narc.

In other news, after finishing the ordeal, an ordeal being the collective noun for syntax questions, I treated myself to some ice cream from the student union and then went and sat in the sunshine to enjoy it. As I merrily licked away at my treat (Oreo flavoured, you know) what should descend upon me but a dire raven?

Not pictured: The dire raven. P.S. Got to watch some of TWWOO to try and screencap the raven (failed miserably), but it still makes me so very happy to watch that video. I love you all, wherever you are.

This thing was huge; the ozzie everyman who happened to be sitting opposite even felt compelled to comment on it. It landed next to me, more vulture than bird, and set its beady eye upon me and, more importantly, my ice cream. And then this happened:

I jest. It flew off. But I was kinda concerned with said ozzie said, quite cheerfully, 'he'll 'ave your eye out, no bother'. Thanks. I really wanted to know that, mate.

And then, after finishing the ice cream, I treated myself to some democracy. Yes, I voted in the student elections. I'll spare you the tedium, except for one piece of trivia which I want to share: you weren't allowed to vote for the 'Queer Officers' unless you identified as queer. I have no idea how they planned to enforce this (penile pathismograph?), but it was there, written on the paper. Also worth noting: the woman on the desk told me that I should just skip the Queer officer page, as it wouldn't apply to me.
The Aussies really aren't that good at guessing.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, mis padres have been reading and accused me of poor mathematics; I claimed I was here for eight weeks on 30th August, and they said it was six. Well, sucks to be both of us, cos it's actually seven. The difference between you and me, dad? I don't use maths for my job. Learn to count.

A splash of colour

Just now, I had genuine, spontaneous contact with two people my own age. It was glorious.
They were a young couple. I was at the train station, see, near Yarra, but I didn't know the way back, having walked an overcircuitous that morning to the next station over. I overheard them discussing what they would have for dinner- he wanted a hamburger, maybe a pizza, she, fish cakes with onions (maybe making them into a sandwich- well, it takes all sorts to make a world.)
Well, they didn't seem the mugging type, so I screwed my courage to the sticking place and asked for directions. I told them I was looking for NMIT as people don't seem to have heard of Yarra House; it turns out they were walking the same direction, so they escorted me part of the way.
The girl reminded me a little of Ramona from Scott Pilgrim- a comparison she would have cherished, judging by the steampunk goggles proudly displayed atop her head. I commented on them and she was delighted to meet someone who knew what steampunk was. The man was more reserved, but he still managed to get a laugh about my obvious Britishness. He was an engineer and physicist, studying at RMIT, she a environment scientist and international study...er at Deacon. From what I gathered, they knew each other from the rural idyll they both came from. I didn't get either of their names, not that it would have helped since I don't have facebook, but I may meet them again on the public transport to which I am now enslaved.
For the sake of thoroughrority, I should say I returned to the games room last night to find the same man there. His name is Michael. He is quite nice, from what I can gather and asked me (yet again) what I wanted to watch. I noticed Back to the Future on the tivo. We watched the entire trilogy together. The only reason this does not count as contact is that over the course of six hours, we exchanged five lines of dialogue. Of course, going by this rate of increase, by Wednesday we should be married.


This is not related to the rest of this post, but I want to record it anyway- the principle difference I have noticed between Australia and the UK so far, excepting currency and accents, is the birds: the ones outside my window sound like monkeys and look like magpies on steroids. And today, as I was walking back, I glimpsed a beautiful, Macaw-like thing just sitting in a tree. It was like a rainbow had perched on the branch and I was awe-struck. I have no idea what it was, but I hope there are more of them because there is nothing like that just flying around in Edinburgh.