Ciao! Hola! G'day! Bonjour! i am writing to notify you of my disappearance from the ethernet. in keeping with the spirit for adventure set forth in works such as: A Year in Province The Year of Magical Thinking The Year of Living Biblically One Hundred Years of Solitude A Year with the Queen A Year in the Merde A Year Down Yonder A Year by the Sea A Year of Adventures Seven Years in Tibet The Years of Rice and Salt My Life in Dog Years The Year of the Goat A Year in the World A Good Year and A [View Full Entry]

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After an epic night in N Zed's uni student haven--the city of Dunedin--I was ready for some R&R in a more rural town. Headed south, the township of Gore my destination... I was suitably satisfied to meet my next couchsurfing host over a cup of tea. A cheeful schoolteacher and proud grandmother, Kate declared almost immediately I hope you know how to ride a bike... I've entered you into tomorrow morning's fundraiser duathlon. Cycling wasn't a problem, and this morning's hangover would only be a mild set-back. The problem was running. Ever since my childh [View Full Entry]

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Fellow couchsurfer Guy Ryan rocked up to his pad at 10. The night before his graduation, he had plans for a quiet night in the company of Harry Potter, so I ventured out alone to survey Dunedin nightlife. In my own experience, going it alone is never a bad plan; whether abroad or at home, it is the most sure-fire way to avail yourself of randomness. Having done a precursory internet search, I thought I'd located a reasonably sound set of reggae or drum n bass at a venue on Bath Street. I sailed down the alley on my longboard into [View Full Entry]

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This blog is a tribute to RASTAWOOKIE -- undoubtedly the coolest band in Sydney. To check out some of their tunes, click: www.myspace.com/rastawookie To the heart-break of many fans and fellow members of the international gang, the band has decided to break-up. The following was written late last night as a tribute after seeing my last gig. viva la wookie the first time i met a wookie was as a kid at summer camp. never having seen a lick of star wars, i was somewhat startled by [View Full Entry]

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i quit blogging. riddled by guilt on my self-declared “study holiday,” i quit blogging. i was consumed with procrastination. i refused to open thesis.dot.doc for weeks on end. i felt so guilty about NOT WRITING MY THESIS that i quit blogging. the written record is lost— confined to contours of memory, but the adventures continue. hard to summarise all that transpired since my last blog, and i can’t be assed to render a rough sketch… so suffice it to say that an epic journey was made— hitching across turtle island from montr [View Full Entry]

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Fatigue or sun stroke, the cause of my chronic napping was unclear. All I can say is, it seems to have been induced by the West Texas Desert. My dear friend Megan went to the trouble of taking me on a scenic roadtrip-- what became a sleeping touring of gorgeous garden desert landscapes. Jet Lag or Desert Hag? Post a comment to vote [View Full Entry]

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All good adventures start with a hug, and I had heaps before departing Australia. There were hugs from the family and hugs from the stuccwits, but my last Aussie hug came from airport security. After sauntering through the metal detector, I was taken up for questioning. SECURITY MAN: so why are you smiling so much? ME: well, i'm going on an international adventure! i love adventures! SECURITY MAN: but you're leaving Australia. everyone else leaving comes through with tears in their eyes, thinking of all the lovely people they'll miss. what about you? ME: well, i'll be back! but i could [View Full Entry]

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The midnight silence was abruptly curtailed by a shock of sound. A noise indicative of an approaching stampede emanated from the tin roof above. After hours of relishing a gripping narrative by headlamp in the comfort of a cozy bed, my golden solitude was interrupted. Maureen the ‘manageress’, a bastion of meticulous preparedness for the CWA Outback Mothers Memorial Hostel, had lost all her usual composure; she charged in, nightie flying. As she burst into my room, I put down my book like a guilty teenager busted in the act. Her voice radiated with a frightful fervou [View Full Entry]

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Travelers be warned: Darwin is an international hub for drunken debauchery. At every pub and backpacker joint in town, an onslaught of beer-guzzling Germans can be observed mingling with flirtatious Finns, bootilicious Brits, and cantankerous Canucks. Despite being in the notoriously remote “Top End” of Australia, there is no shortage of fashionistas sporting midriff, bared legs, and blonde highlights. Scoping the circuit for a suitable spot to study, I inevitably feel like a misplaced calf drifting in the international meat market. How long would it be until I was sla [View Full Entry]

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I have to admit, breakfast with beaurocrats isn't my usual style. My average morning is spent basking on the sunny steps of our courtyard, amid a rubble of dirty dishes and the enjoyable banter of my housemates. Between sips of green tea, Miss Matilda emerges from our kitchen with a delectable breakfast ensemble that she has seemingly conjured out of nowhere. (Her resourceful intuition and culinary innovations have won her accolades as a dumpster diving diva) Despite our penchant for imagination, an outside observer would undoubtedly assess our morning tea as a dining experience on par wit [View Full Entry]

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