Melbourne continued - an amazing night is born

After a few restless hours of attempting to sleep in the noisiest dorm room ever, the club downstairs finally calmed down. Which allowed me to calm down.

Just as I was really feeling settled, these two sleazy bitches come rolling in, all noisy-like. And turn on the lights. And heat. Which was totally unnecessary. And positioned RIGHT above my bed.

I obviously wasn’t having and of that. And made sure they knew it.

I sat up, glared, and said “Turn it off. Please.”

“But we’re cold!”

“Then get under the covers.”

Total karma for the fan wars in Cairns. Seriously.

In any case, I got up at a decent hour and got myself to a café down the street for some brekkie. Met some blokes who lured me in with promises of dj friends who worked at local bars. I made the mistake of texting the one guy, who proceeded to leave 30 missed calls on my phone when I was out that night.

Ugh. Who does that? I met you at a café and said I MIGHT stop in. Get over it.

He continued to stalk me for 2 weeks, while he visited Sydney. One of my kids – the 12 y/o with the deep voice – answered it for me. Ha.

So I got breakfast, browsed the tourist materials and booked a tour on the Great Ocean Road for the following day. Finally, around noon, I headed out of my ‘hood – St. Kilda – and into Melbourne proper.

It’s a really gorgeous city, perfect for strolling, browsing and otherwise spending a lazy day. I, of course, skipped all of this at first and headed straight to the hugest open-air market ever. And got talked into buying a gorgeous leather jacket that I didn’t need at all but loved just the same. Had cake for lunch. It was all very awesome.

In the late afternoon, after some more strolling through pretty arcades and city streets, I wandered up to the ticket office for the Melbourne arts festival that was opening that very day. I asked about tickets for that night and possible student pricing.

Would you know it, they had a single seat left at student pricing for the opening of this abstract opera-dance-thing.

Awesome. I felt so artsy and cool.
As I stood at the tram stop waiting to get back to the hostel, it started sprinkling. Then pouring. And then pelting sideways. So much so that I was soaked from the waist down, even though I was standing under an awning.

It was so bad that I looked at the guy next to me, and we both just started cracking up. It was that kind of craziness.

After primping and opera time, I headed back on the same tram line. I took a seat next to a couple of girls who looked like they had been throwing them back since after work. They continued to sip out of a wine bottle – classily enclosed in a paper bag – for the entire ride.

As we rode, all of this random ass shit started to happen. The tram driver, I soon realized, was making super rude, hilarious commentary over the microphone. And the more material the riders provided, the better he got.

First, these preteen boys got on the tram and sat next to us. One of them asked the girls to hand him a ticket on the floor. A ticket that was obviously used up, as it had clearly been stamped with a big expired sign.

When you get on the tram, you are supposed to scan your ticket, and the machine stamps and returns it. If the ticket is expired, it spits out really fast and beeps loudly to get the driver’s attention.

So what does this kid do? Shove the expired ticket in the machine. Again. And again. And again. Because he thinks that beeping sound is funny.

OMG kid.

After about 20 hits, the tram driver gets on the system. “Hey kid. Why don’t you try one more time. It might work now.”

Silence. And then outbursts of laughter all around me.

Poor kid.

Next, these 3 guys get on and have to stand. Right above us. And they are all wearing jeans with red-ish tees.

They start to talk to us, go on about how they are master chefs at some restaurant and otherwise slur some compliment attempts in a thick Scottish accent. They put together that the three of us are friends from Europe or something. Which, given the fact that we just met and none of us are European, is clearly not the case. But he was very drunk and could not be convinced otherwise.

After a few more minutes of dodging his awkard, drunken, Scottish attempts at getting laid, the tram driver comes on again.

“I bet the gentlemen in red are currently figuring out that they might do better with the ladies if they dressed a bit better.”

More silence. And then the three of us girls started hyperventilating in unison.

The red dudes all of sudden were at their stop.

As we pulled up to the girls’ stop, they asked me what I was doing and if I wanted to join them for a drink. They were going to this great live music joint near my hostel that I wanted to check out anyways.

Yes, please.

We said our thanks to the tram driver, made introductions and entered The Espie. Properly known as the Esplanade Hotel.

And that was how a great night was born.

Arrival in Melbourne. The Last Hoorah.

For my last hoorah adventure in Australia before heading back to the States, I decided to take a long weekend in Melbourne. Which is the other big city in Oz.

Essentially, I will use the LA vs. SanFran example again. Or LA vs. NYC. Melbourne has shitty weather, but more awesome and attractive people.

Like NYC. Clearly.

Here's a map to help you out.



For those who don't know, Canberra is the capital of Australia. Why? Because Melbourne and Sydney both wanted to be the capital. And no one could agree. So they created a little district in the space between them and called it the capital.

Very interesting, I know.

So, yes, I went to Melbourne. Alone. Awesome.

I booked myself into a "VIP" style all-girls dorm that I found in my Lonely Planet. With the hopes of not finding any more condom wrappers in my bed.

My flight arrived pretty late in the evening - like, 11 - but I figured it wouldn't be that bad. What I didn’t realize is that my flight landed in the oldest, shittiest airport ever, super far away from the city. Not the new Melbourne airport.

So I had to take an hour bus ride to get there - then a tram to my neighborhood - and then stumble around in the dark to find my hostel. At 1am. Alone. In a city I've never scene. With luggage.

After stealing a tram ride because I can't figure out the machine on the bus and successfully avoiding arrest, I wandered around this really cute little area with a bunch of drunk people passing by me. Fun scene, so it wasn't too bad. Just effing cold.

I realize I'm getting super close to where my place should be, but I don't see it anywhere. There's a HUGE line of people waiting to get into a bar down the road a bit, so I walk up to ask for help. I know this hostel is huge – someone will know it, right?

Oop, wait. This is my hostel. I'm sleeping in the only crowded bar in the neighborhood.

I had to show my bags and irritation to the bouncer to cut the line and get through the front door.

As the clerk checked me in, I just kept screaming “WHAAAT!?!?” until he gave up, threw me the key and said goodnight.

At this point it’s 1 in the morning. Everyone in the place is a 19-year-old backpacker who’s been drunk for at least 6 hours. I tried to socialize - everyone was veeerrry friendly - but quickly went old-lady style and went to bed.

My mother would be ashamed. And so would Ufer.

I did better the next night. Stay tuned.

Oh, and there were no condom wrappers. Just nice little bottles of Aveda shampoo.

Score.

Birthdays all around

First and foremost, THANKS to everyone for the birthday wishes. Via gmail, facebook and traditional Hallmark greeting, I have enjoyed all the love.

24 is kinda a lame age, but you know. It's cool.

What's WAY cooler is a 1st birthday. On October 21, ExpatEscapades celebrated its first year of life!!! Yay. Which means, over a year ago, I landed in Bangkok.

Damn.

My mom celebrated her birthday on the 21st too. But I'm not allowed to tell you how many candles she got.

Thanks for virtually hanging out with me for the most amazing year of my life. Hope it's been entertaining.

Cause, let's be real. It's all downhill from here ... ;)

Singapore – where lashing WORKS!

As we all learned on GLEE a few weeks ago, Singapore is a very very safe, clean country. Because they lash people there. And it works.

Singapore is also the end of the line for the Asian blog chapters. I know, it only took me 6 months to finish.

So, yes. From Malaysia we caught another night train to Singapore, a gorgeous island country that is basically a little Australia in a lot of ways. Nicer, even.

The official language is English, which caught me by surprise. Traffic laws are obeyed, there’s no trash on the ground. People are courteous and have very Western-like mannerisms. But everyone is Asian … crazy. I know.

Due to a serious decrease in the value of the American dollar, Singapore was by far the most expensive country we visited. It took us a while to find a place, which ended up being a bare - but clean - room above a bar. Which, I recently learned, was a rip-off of another bar in Melbourne. But that’s beside the point.

It was a really quick trip – 2 or 3 days – that we filled with museums, culture centers, etc. One night we made the awesome decision to visit the night safari, which is basically a zoo of nighttime animals.

Awesome.

Oh, and proof that ligers DO exist!


Most of the place was meant to be explored on this little tram thingy, but we did a lot on foot first. There was this little bridge over a pond at the end of one stretch. It didn’t look like there were any animals around, except for this little deer the size of a chihuahua. Weird.

As we sat there and watched this little deer-rat, backs to the pond, we heard a loud POP. All of a sudden, 5 of THESE bitches surfaced only a few feet away from us.

Apparently, they are called gharials. And they are scary.

Creepy. Seriously. Remember, it was dark, and we were there kinda late.

Then they sank away without a sound. And then resurfaced. And went back down. In sync.

I think they wanted to eat Adam.

Either way, it was nightmare material.

Other than that, we explored Singapore in the same manner as the rest of the trip.

We drank, we walked, we drank.

Oh, and we rode this CRAZY ASS slingshot ride on the main drag, which is called Clarks Quay. Pronounced "key."

They had a video thing on you the entire time you were on the ride, including the few minutes before the launch. Then, when you got off, you got to watch the video of your ride (with the option to buy).

Of course, I was a SERIOUS potty mouth the ENTIRE time. Especially at the end, when we were dangling in the air and I figured no one could hear us. Adult rides are meant for adult language, right?

When we got down, they played our video. On the big screen, with surround sound. In front of a line of 30 people, including some young children.

I’ve never been so embarrassed in my entire life.

That might be an exaggeration, but still.

Oh, and I decided at noon one day that I wanted to pierce my nose. By 3pm, I was sporting a stud.

Unfortunately, said nose ring recently fell out during one of my drunken escapades. It closed overnight.

Bummer, dude.

After that, we headed back to BKK. Adam hitched a ride back to MI, I meditated for a few days, and eventually, landed in Oz.

You know what happened after that ;)

Some flava

I'm an awesome nanny, and I've started baking once in a while. Good for the kids, bad for my waistline. Blah blah.

I couldn't find my grandma's banana bread recipe. So I did a little searchy-searchy online.

Apparently, there is a whole website dedicated to banana bread recipes alone

Not only did the site have great recipes. It also had comments from fellow bakers - including this little gem from Barbara Louis Underwater:

"Here in the south, people are getting a little chubby so I needed a healthy banana bread recipe to serve at my get-togethers to give my guests some flava. but after hearing that my best friend paula broke her scale the other day, i knew i couldn't use my butta flavad crisco recipe nomore. thanks banana bread recipes!"

Amen, sister. Thanks banana bread recipes!

Chicken vs. fish. Cairns, part 2.

After the waterfall extravaganza, Team America took a day to relax and enjoy the beaches of Cairns. Not that Cairns really has beaches – but, you know, the neighboring town does. The actual coast of Cairns is covered in clayish mud instead of sand. Not exactly sunbathing material.

Trinity Beach, however, was sunbathing material. And looked like it could be a topless beach, judging from the girls around us. So, for a brief moment, just to make Amanda uncomfortable, I went topless as well.

But then I stopped, because I didn’t want to get arrested.

This kinda became a theme of the trip. Getting naked to make Schrama uncomfortable. I think at one point I got up on her without pants on or something.

I didn’t care, but she totally did.

I would have done it to Cait, but she didn’t care either. “Whatever, man.”

In any case, we enjoyed a beautiful afternoon, during which we ran into one of our touring English friends from the day before. She asked Caitlin how her date went, referring to the American guy with the crazy friend that she knew from Sydney, and again from the bar in Cairns.

How did this lady know that Caitlin was going to see this guy again? Oh, because Cait told the whole damn bus how great this guy was in bed. And how excited she was to see him again.

1 more point for Team America.

After a bus ride back to the hostel with the most annoying southern ladies with the grossest hackers cough voices ever, we showered up and headed out for a fancy coastal dinner. With wine and appetizers and everything.

The whole specials menu sounded great, and seemed kinda cheap. There was one dish I didn’t quite recognize.

“Umm, maam’, which is your favorite fish? And what do you think of this one on the specials menu?”

“That’s not a fish. That’s chicken.”

Priceless.

After dinner, and half a bottle of wine to myself, we walked back towards the hostel, gelato on the brain. Some Aussie dudes walk by and compliment me on my dress.

“That is gorgeous on you. Great color.”

“Thanks. I don’t suppose my tits hanging out is what caught your attention?”

“Umm, wait, lemme see?”

As I turned my head to follow up on my sassy-ass comment, my body continued on without me. Before I could throw another zing out, I ran into innocent little Caitlin. We both nearly fell over.

It was super smooth and cool.

We got awesome gelato and headed home.

End day 3.

Just an afternoon in the office

While sitting, drinking tea, watching kids eat afternoon snack. Talking with my 2 middle boys, 6 and 10 years old.

6y/o - (Getting up from table after finishing sandwich) "I don't have hiccups anymore I think I'll have one of those nut bars my penis hurts."

Me - "Drink some water anyways ... Wait, what did you just say?"

6 y/o - "I think I'll have a nut bar."

Me - "Before that."

10 y/o - "His penis hurts."

6 y/o - "Yeah, it stings a little."

Me - "Umm, that's not good."

10 y/o -"It's from playing with it too much. (pause) It happens to me sometimes too."

There are three drunk Americans on this bus … in Cairns

As I may have mentioned in a previous post, there was a serious outbreak of swine flu in Australia a few months back. As I prepped for my return to the States, it was decided that I should plan to stay away from the kids for my first week back in Oz. In case I was carrying pig sickness.

When the time came, it seemed like this was unnecessary and I could go straight back to work after 4 weeks off. Buuut, I already had a ticket to the Great Barrier Reef. Oh well.

Thanks to a delayed flight to LA from Detroit … and an even longer delay in LA to Sydney … I wasn’t even in Australia for 24 hours before getting on an early ass plane to Cairns. I met Schrama and Ufer in the airport around 5:30am or some shit. By 10am we were in Cairns, ready for trouble.

We checked into the hostel, got our keys and went to the room. And were met by a terrible drunk boy stench and some near-dead kids in a couple of dorm beds.

Three hours later, we returned to find them in the same exact state. As we quietly went about unpacking, I discovered a condom wrapper in my “clean” bed, wrapped in my “new” yet crumpled sheets.

No discussion necessary. In a blink of an eye we packed again, and were quickly moved into a girls only dorm on the other side of the building.

Ahh. Much better.

Our roommate was still weird, and woke up really early, and insisted on turning the fan off in the middle of the night and closing the door so I woke up sweating and annoyed. But at least she didn’t smell bad or have sex in my bed. That I know of.

I don’t think she thought much of us either. She told Schrama on our first day that she was staying a while. Then quietly slipped off at the crack of dawn on our second night.

Whatevs. We basically had the place to ourselves the rest of the time.

During our first day in we booked a couple of great tours. One was the obligatory snorkeling and diving on the reef. The second was a totally random tablelands trip that the girls had heard of in Sydney.

On day 2 we woke early in anticipation of our waterfall adventure. After watching many well-maintained tour buses drive by our place, we were a little worried we’d been left behind.

A few minutes later a raggedy-old hippie looking minivan pulls up, and out hops our crazy dreadlock-and-Thai-fisherman-pants-sporting Kiwi tour guide.

In case you don’t know, Kiwi means from New Zealand.

“Those are some nice teeth,” he says to Amanda. “Where you guys from?”

“Umm, thanks. The States.”

“How you guys feeling this morning?”

“We’re great, but the one with the teeth was out late last night. With an Aussie. She’s struggling.”

“Watch out everyone. We’ve got Americans.”

And that’s how the day started. And Team America was born.

We quickly made friends with our Kiwi guide. He was married the week before, to a Welsh girl who gave him a threesome for their 3-week dating anniversary. That’s when he knew she was the one.

He had everyone do a roll call as we drove to the tablelands, so we could get to know each other. Key points included country of origin, relationship status and whether you fold or scrunch your toilet paper.

I’m gonna propose that as an addition to the Facebook basic info page.

I said “depends on the job.” For the record.

We went to three sites throughout the day, for swimming/hiking/generally getting into trouble. At the first stop we had breakfast and the Kiwi taught me how to squeeze the butts off of green ants and eat them.

Tastes like lemon.

After dominating the natural waterslide and busting up both of my knees on boulders, we went to lunch. Seeing as we were so entertaining sober, our guide decided to buy us tequila shots to see what other stupid shit we would say.

I was instantly drunk. So I ordered soco and lime shots all around. And a beer.

And then I was wasted. “Whatever we do guys, do NOT let me swim.”

You guys are terrible friends.

As we boarded the bus again, our guide informed us of our next stop. “Oh, and you guys, there are 3 drunk Americans on this bus. I’m not gonna name names …”

As we pulled out, the super nice bar lady comes running out the door holding a purse. “It’s gotta belong to someone on Team America,” replies the Kiwi.

“LISA!”

“Aw, shit guys. Thanks. Seriously, I’m not allowed to swim”

Twenty minutes later I was swimming again, this time in the COLDEST effing water ever, into a fairly strong waterfall current.

I wasn’t going to go in, but, you know. It’s easy to convince me.

Sydney and I decided to swim for it. Her name wasn’t Sydney, but I bet you can guess where she was from.

Schrama went in, and Caitlin was forced in. As you’ll see in the video below. I drunkenly escaped, but went back in later.

You notice in this little clip that there’s a creepy old dude taking pictures. Before we got in the water, he tried to get us girls to pose for a bikini picture. He even offered some monies. We politely declined.

Apparently, that didn’t stop him.

No one noticed this happening at the time. It was only later, on the bus, that the evidence was discovered.

After swimming we went to the cheese and chocolate factory, where Caitlin and I drunkenly gorged ourselves on cheese and crackers. And felt immediately ill.

Last stop was a gorgeous lake that I didn’t catch on film. It was quiet, and warm, and I peed in it.

After a late drive back, we grabbed some dinner, and Schrama cashed early. Caitlin and I went out to meet some friends of hers from Sydney.

These guys had hit on the girls on a ferry in Sydney, and I hear that the whole day was a blast. Caitlin and her dude ended up having a good time, but Schrama’s man turned out to be crazy. I wasn’t sure I believed her story, and I was willing to give homeboy a second chance.

I gave it the old college try, for Caitlin’s sake. I couldn’t let her show up at the bar alone.

5 minutes in, and he was going on and on and on about how Schrama had broken his heart … after knowing her for 15 hours. 10 minutes after that, he was yelling at me – literally – for liking tequila.

I smiled knowingly at Cait, said my goodbyes, and walked home.

And that was our first full day in Cairns.

I’ll think I’ll make this a 2-parter. Or maybe 3. I think that would be fitting …

Lisa’s triumphant return. For reals this time.

Yup yup, she’s doing it again. Sadly, a month earlier than planned.

Due to unexpected (and unethical) increases in airfare during the month of December, I will be returning to the States in November. November 18, to be specific.

This time will be “for good.” Or, until I get restless again.

Want to see more of me? Find me a job and an apartment, and I’m there.

Seriously. Anywhere. Gimme.

This will also mean that Expat Escapades will have to retire. I’m considering throwing a retirement party.

People bring presents to retirement parties, right?

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Home to the world’s most memorable cab drivers.

After the successful bus rundown we boarded a night train to KL. Despite a few mishaps, this proved to be the most comfortable mode of transportation in SE Asia. Besides flying.

Following a restless night of yelling at people to close the goddamn door because they were too dumb to push the freakin’ automatic close button, I finally managed to get some shut eye. Probably around 3am.

At 4:30 we awoke to pounding on the windows and yelling in our ears.

Time to get off the train.

In the mad dash we managed to loose the stupid bag thing I had strapped to the outside of my pack. Key items included my running shoes and the underwater camera from Phi Phi.

Sadpants.

Once into town we went on a crazy search for accommodation. Things were quite pricey here, in comparison to Thailand.

After we settled in and took a nap, we started a 3 day stint in the city.

It was raining a lot, putting a damper on the trip.

Pun.

We took a stroll around Chinatown, which looked like every other Chinatown I've ever seen anywhere else in the world.

Adam tricked me into getting under a huge gutter stream with an umbrella. And then made me think he was taking a picture and not a video.

Ass.

As a result of the rain, we ate a lot. Because the cheapest (and best) food was in the tents, which also happened to be the best place to hang out in a rainstorm.

I think we had 6 meals one day. And waaaaay too much Indian food the whole time we were there.

We also got a bit daring on day one and got fish pedicures. They have them in the States too, but I’ve never seen them.

Basically, you stick your feet in a big fish tank, and the fish eat the dead skin off.

Yup, it’s as gross and uncomfortable as it sounds.

Not painful. Just ticklish and weird and wrong. But fun. I wouldn’t make it a habit, but they sure did get the job done.

Besides rain and Indian food, this city had a pretty great bird park. The world’s largest covered bird park, or something. I don’t remember what it is officially.

Unofficially, this city has the world’s most memorable cab drivers.

They had them all. Politicos spewing on about Hindu/Muslim racism, uber helpful guides, and the asshole who tried to make us think he was doing us a favor by driving us around. Like it wasn’t his job and we weren’t paying him.

But the BEST was the karaoke guy.

He had karaoke. In the car. Screen (with lyrics) was located on the inside of his passenger sun-visor-flap-thing. Microphone was plugged into the dash.

He expertly navigated traffic and carried a karaoke turn without skipping a beat.

As a pop culture blogger would say – AMAZEBALLS.

Even if he DID take us to the wrong museum. It was worth it.

We hit up the bird park, like I said. It rained, per usual. But I had fun, chased some birds, and fed a few. They scared me.

The icon of KL is (are?) the Petronas Towers, aka Petronas gasoline. Or petrol. You know.

They are the world’s largest twin towers. You can go to a little deck 30ish floors up and see a great view of the city. But you can’t go to the top, which is lame.

There’s a great little aquarium underneath though. Which is cool.

We did lots of animal things in this city, apparently.

I feel like this entry isn’t about the words. The videos are the true highlight.

So sorry if my verbal skills are impaired by the wine I've been sipping.

All in all, KL was a really, beautiful modern city with too much curry and a real Hindu/Muslim battle. Wish we had more time.

After a couple of nights we boarded ANOTHER night train – this time to Singapore. Where they speak English and lash people.

But BEFORE we got on the train to Malaysia …

I almost forgot about this part. Dammit.

So, in order to get on the train to Malaysia, one must travel very far south into the not-so-stable border states of Thailand.

I snagged a little bus van thing, packed to the brim, for the uncomfortable ride down from Krabi. We had ordered train tickets online, so we asked to be dropped right out front of the train station.

They literally drop us on the side of the road, and we hop out. Van drives away.

As I struggle to find the tickets to check the train time, I realize that they are in my wallet. In my purse. Which is NOT on my shoulder.

I had stuffed it into a shelf in front of me on the van. And failed to retrieve it upon exiting the vehicle.

EFLJH*&!@)*MKJFO(*&$@)(U#@*&*& T!!!!

This could possibly be the WORST place and time to loose a passport. And all of your money. And other forms of identification.

I look up at Adam, scream about my purse and start running down the dirt road. He yells at me to drop my backpack. I dramatically chuck it down and get a move on.

I’ve never ever put so much effort into a sprint in my whole life. I was in the middle of the road, dodging tuk-tuks, motorbikes and cabs. Drivers honked, cheered me on and stared.

I caught up to the van as it got stuck in the turn lane. Just as it entered the intersection, I pitched my water bottle into the back window.

The driver just slowed a second and kept driving. But it was enough for me to catch up and start POUNDING on all of the windows.

Everyone still in the van looks on, terrified, as I slide open the door, grab my purse, and walk away. Without saying a word.

Observing tuk-tuk drivers gave me the thumbs up on my walk back to the corner.

And THEN we had lunch and got on a night train. To Kuala Lumpur.

For those of you who don’t get it…

At this point, I’m writing 2 kinds of entries. The ones about Australia (recent) or the ones about Asia (not so recent). Since I got backed up during the backpacking, I’m having to retrace my steps.

Sorry for the confusion.

Another boyfriend ...

Here's another video of a typical day on the "job."

Koh Phi Phi – You know, where they filmed “The Beach.” Duh.

After our near-robbery in Phuket, we snagged an early tour ferry to Phi Phi. It looked like we’d be fighting for accommodation, since it looked like 1000ish people were getting off our boat alone.

As they starting labeling everyone with huge colored stickers, indicating the snorkeling time slots, we realized that almost everyone on board was part of a TERRIBLE day trip. Lucky us, we were the first stop off.

We were greeted on the island by an unbelievably calm, helpful travel agent who helped us find a place to stay and someone to carry our luggage. Since, you know, there are NO vehicles allowed on the island.

After full days and nights of honking traffic in Hanoi, it was a welcome change. The weather was a little weird, and hot, but still a complete paradise. We meant to stay for a day or two … which turned into 5 or 6. Oh well.

The schedule basically went like this:
12pm – wake up
12:45pm – get out of bed
1:30pm – get breakfast
2pm – dodge rain
3pm – lay on beach
4pm – get lunch
5pm – get snack
6pm – read
8pm – get dinner
8:30pm – get a bucket of liquor
9pm – go to fire show
12am – get drunken food
2am – stumble home, avoiding huge crabs, dogs and drunk people trying to convince you that’s it’s a great morning to get a tattoo.

After a few weeks of intense sightseeing and moving around, this place was just RELAXING and beautiful. I was in love.

I mean, we did do things. We went on a snorkeling trip, and saw the famous Maya Bay (made famous by Leonardo DiCaprio) and other great reef sights. We had some awesome coverage of this portion, but we lost the underwater camera on a train in Malaysia.

The fire shows, and buckets of liquor, were a blast. And, yes, I mean buckets. Like, for making sand castles.

You order a sand pail, filled with a pint of liquor and mixer of your choice. It’s buy one get one free. And one is enough to kill a horse.

We made the mistake of ordering a second round the first night. A centimeter in we were rolling on the beach and don’t remember the walk home.

Fire shows also included drunken fire jump rope and watching people fall on their asses. See below.

The guy in the khaki shorts, at the end of the vid, is Adam. Sadly, I have no footage of him falling on his ass.

On the 3rd or 4th night there, we met up with Damonz, who had been a friend of Kim’s while she was in PP. He introduced us to a few friends, joined us for a bucket and gave us this great idea.

He suggested that we rent kayaks and take a trip around the island, stopping on the small beaches. Since the island is really just a huge limestone cliff with a few small beaches on the far edges, it costs a lot to hire a fishing boat to take you around. This way, we’d save money and see more.

In theory.

Either we went off the wrong end or we’re just stupid. Probably both. In any case, as we headed out around 2pm, neither of us thought to look at a map first. Or a weather forecast.

After making it out of the bay, we suddenly felt the waves get much stronger and the clouds look much darker. Ah, well, a little rain never hurt anyone.

Waves get even stronger and we move further out into the wide, wide ocean. Sky turns black. Fisherman in boat points at the clouds and us. Laughs wildly.

Once the storm actually got started, we hit panic mode. Started packing up our stuff, paddling like crazy and looking for SOMEWHERE to beach this thing.

Apparently, all of the beaches are on the OTHER side of the island.

The boat was filling up with waves, and I had honestly stopped paddling. We were going nowhere, even with both of us working for our lives.

Mind you, there are tons of boats flying around us and motors turning up more and more waves, making everything THAT much easier.

Out of nowhere, the nicest man alive pulls up next to us in a fisherman boat he has clearly chartered for himself and his family. In a gorgeous South African accent, he asks us if we need help and offers to put us – and our kayak – on board the boat to get us to shore again.

Even in this situation, my pride almost gets the best of me. A quick look at Adam and we silently concede to our stupidity.

We awkwardly apologize, laugh and roll our eyes at each other as we make it back to the beach. Even with a motor and a lifetime of experience on the island, the driver still seems to have a hard time getting us back in.

It becomes very clear that, without this dude, we would have been toast.

Apologies continue, and we try to figure out how much a life-saving rescue is worth in baht. We hand it to the driver, apologize again, and drag the damn kayak back to the hut where we rented it.

Lesson learned.

On some other night, we saw this huge crab on our walk back up. Evil children that we are, we tried to convince the neighborhood dog to battle with it. He lost, but only got a small scratch on the nose.

Events all blur together for me during this portion of the trip. 6 pints of SangSom will do that to a girl.

After the islands, I was meant to head back up north to see the girls. Buuut, somewhere along the line, I was convinced to head south to Malaysia and Singapore instead. Sorry Marianne.

And as simply as that, I was crossing another border on a night train headed to Kuala Lumpur.

Trapeze School!

2 loooong flights, 3 encounters with bitchy airline employees and a van ride later, I arrived in NYC!!! YAYAYA

I arrived at my old apt and visited with my old roommate, the one and only k.hel.

Celebrations/drinking commenced.

I was hoping to meet up with my friend Dayna, but when I called to make a date, she said she was a bit busy.

"I have this TRAPEZE thing ..."

I signed up immediately.

We went to the top of Pier 40 or something, and learned how to fly with the greatest of ease. With the hottest trainers ever.

I nearly cried every time I went to the platform, since, you know, I'm a wimp. You had to lean forward, over the platform, 23ft in the air, and reach for a bar. Which doesn't look or sound nearly as scary as it is. At first.

But then you jump, and you feel like you're 5, and it's amazing.

Until the next day when every muscle you haven't used since the last time you played on monkey bars goes totally sore, and you can't even run because all the pieces around your boobs hurt.

I stole some zoom shots of the hot instructors for your viewing pleasure. One of them is a personal trainer for Hugh Jackman, my fav Aussie. Yum.

Below are vids of some of my rounds on the bar. I would show you Dayna's, but she's better than me.

Cheers mates! Stay tuned.

I'm baaaaack!!!

Sorry for the hiatus guys. For those who don't know, I was in the States for 4 weeks, and then visited Cairns for a 5th. Which means I have TONS of material to come.

Plus, you know, I never finished the Asian stories.

Sorry guys. I was too busy being really really busy.

Buhbye Vietnam, sawatdeekah Thailand

After too many days in rainy, cold, sorta mean Hanoi, we jumped on a plane and were back to relative-reality, Bangkok. It was amazing how I felt so at home when we landed – but Thailand made a lot more sense than Vietnam.

We had a few hours to kill between our landing in Bangkok and an evening flight to Phuket, so we headed into the city for some camera shopping and luggage storage.

While I’ve never actually seen it in the States, Thailand has an abundance of Swensen’s stores – as in the San Francisco ice cream chain. It was disgustingly hot out, and I was craving.

I’ve picked up this super annoying habit of pulling Adam’s hair. Mostly picking at single strands of arm and leg hair when he isn’t looking and we’re in small spaces. Like cabs.

As we were walking into the mall, I needed a fix. I needed to pull his hair. But he’d had enough.

I promised to buy him ice cream if I could do it one more time. And I did it again. Twice.

That was going to cost me.

Swensen’s is not cheap, but I had promised ice cream. And taken advantage and pulled 2 hairs instead of one. So that bitch made me PAY by ordering up everything his little heart desired in the super-Americanized Bangkok ice cream shop.

I had to pay 20 bucks. In Asia, that could get you a bed for the night, a couple of drinks and a hot call girl for at least an hour. Eff.

That night we flew to Phuket and got a hotel room in some nutty place that also housed a small Stalin museum.

Yup.

Phuket was just a short stop on the way to the islands, so there wasn’t much on the itinerary. We decided on one task – finding the Hard Rock Café so Adam could pick up a souvenir. His family collects them, blah blah.

There’s a whole freakin’ web site set up for the Phuket Hard Rock Café that led us to believe it actually existed. So we jumped on a rickety bus and make it to the other side of the province, to another beach district, more or less in search of this place.

We get there, and it’s not even open yet. Not finished.

The Hard Rock site had mentioned some grand opening date that had already passed. My money is on the fact that the Americans have no idea it’s not open, and the Thais don’t care.

Whatever.

We played on the beach for the rest of the afternoon, and I played with my new awesome camera. Beautiful sunsets.

Adam found some crabs. To go with my herp.

It turns out that this area had a pretty happening nightlife, so instead of heading back to the hotel we decide to stick around. We showered in public bathrooms, bought some new dry rip-off clothes to wear and hit the town.

After dinner and hookah, Adam decides that he wants to light up a kom loi, which is a Thai hot air lantern that is supposed to help you release worries and send them up into the sky.

Really, boys just like to play with fire.

After bargaining forever and still getting ripped off, homeboy finally gets one. I videotape.

As you’ll see, I end up giving the camera to one of the vendors to record both of us. But then I quickly run off camera. Because when I turned around, some other vendor was going through my purse!!!

He tries to pretend that he was fixing our blanket, which you can see him toss into the air as I run up with a superbitch look on my face.

PISSSSSED!

Luckily it didn’t look like he managed to find anything valuable in the dark.

And then we jumped into the back of a pickup truck-style sawatawng and went back to the hotel. The next morning we headed to paradise – Koh Phi Phi.

Free food moments

We've ALL been there. It's the weekend, you've been out for hours drinking your ass off, and the clock hits 2am, 3am, 4am? And all of a sudden you are FAMISHED.

ME NEEDS FOODSIES NOW!!!!

That piece of pizza, that gyro, whatever, it tastes amazing. No matter what.

But lemme tell you, it tastes SO much better when you get it for free!

Free food moments have been abundant in Oz. I've had 2 that I can remember. I'm sure there are more that I don't.

(Free drinks don't count)

Free Food Moment #1- leaving the crazy King's Cross club with Marianne at 3ish I think? We've been dancing our butts off. I see pizza-by-the-slice.

This dude is line turns around, looks at me, pokes me in the face and tells me I'm beautiful. I have a beautiful smile. He tells Marianne, his friend, another person in line and the pizza dude. Puts his arm around me, hangs drunkenly. I almost slap him. Annoying.

But THEN he put 20 bucks in my pocket. WTF!?!?!

I was much nicer after that.

Finally, his pizza arrived. A whole freakin' box of pizza, one of every slice flavor. I grab the super veg, smile nicely, scarf my pizza and enjoy my cab ride home, subsidized by the free pizza beautiful smile guy.

Free Food Moment #2- Last weekend, or maybe 2 weeks ago? Leaving the Ivy with the German ladies, hit up Mackers (McDonald's in America) for a Fillet-o-Fish and some fries.

No tomato sauce.

I go up to the counter to ask for some. The dude hands me a bag with tomato sauce AND 2 Macs. I open the bag, look at him confused. He smiles, nods and walks away.

I announce to the whole place (which is packed) that I just got 2 burgers for FREESIES. And then I share one and eat the other, after finishing my fish. And then order a sundae.

I don't care what ANYONE says. I love me a Mackers chocolate fudge sundae!

Representing all that is AMERICAN (to be read in a southern-hillbilly accent with a touch of GeorgeDubya)

As you might already know, I'm technically here as an AUPAIR, not just a nanny. So, technically, I'm supposed to be learning about another culture while teaching the kids about my own.

Thanks to the evil evil Disney channel, and the fact that I'm from the most egocentric country in on the planet, there's pretty much nothing I can teach these kids that they don't already know. While I struggle to learn the different little pieces of the Aussie lingo, everyone around me is able to translate.

bin = trash can
rubbish = trash
biscuit = cookie
lolli = candy
mince = ground meat
mobile = cell phone
chips = fries

blah blah blah.

But then the kids starting asking me about the REAL ins and outs of American culture.

"Lisa, what's a Twinkie? What's a Ho-ho? What's a sloppy joe?"

And I went on to explain why we're all obese.

For the past few Tuesday night dinners, I've been in charge. I know, it's scary. Annie (the old German nanny) and I tackle the 5 kids on our own, without adult supervision.

To distract the kids from how much nicer and more fun the old nanny was, I made tonight American dinner night.

Menu? Sloppy joes, fries, carrot sticks, pickles. Meat, potato, pseudo-veggies. The core of the American diet.

True American kids' cafeteria/summer camp/junk food.

They loved it. Really, they did.

Photo proof, from oldest to youngest ...

Elias

Ruben

Joel

Asher

Jasper

So don't you worry, America. Slowly but surely, I'm successfully spreading democracy and poor eating habits to all corners of the world.

The swine flu hits Oz

For those of you who think it’s over, here’s what they think in Oz.

Seriously. It's calmed down a bit, but they still take a lot of precautions.
I will probs be wearing a mask for my super long flight.