Dande-who?

Well I’ve been storming through my days. Saturday I got to burn my mouth on dumplings at some back alley place that only the locals know about followed by shifting over to local dive bar that was made out of a storage container. On Sunday, I went out and met up with some Aussie friends for a “Sunday session” aka sitting by the river on Sunday having “pots” or “jugs” of beer (Pot = ½ pint and jug = pitcher) while listening to live music.

Monday I went to Phillip Island which is a beautiful island that is well known for aussie’s native penguin and motorsports. While I didn’t get to see the penguins, I did get to hang around aussie men in leather all day racing motorbikes. The racetrack was surrounded by ocean and green fields. The weather was a bit windy and chilly, but I still had a good time. Check out my mean snarl. Scary.

Yesterday I went out to the Dandenong Ranges. It’s a huge national park made up of a forests of Mountain Ash, mountainside, and winding blazed trails. Words can’t describe how beautiful it is, and the pictures just don’t do it justice. There really is nothing better than walking through tunnels of green. Look up, look down, backwards, forwards, side to side. GREEN. I love it. It’s so refreshing after 2 weeks in the city to get out and spend some time surrounded by nature.

I went to Sassafras for lunch. Sassafras. It just sounds small and southern, like it should be in the movie Steel Magnolias or something. Cute rural town. Unlike the small towns of TX, rural towns here seem to be full of dreadheaded hippies.

Spectacular day trip. I had a very bad experience on the train on my way out of Melbourne though. While I was minding my own business reading with one foot folded under me in my seat, a security man approached me and very sternly ordered me to remove my foot from the seat. I was startled as I abruptly went from my comedic book to a large scary man standing just in front of me. When I apologized he picked up on the accent and immediately asked for my train ticket and multiple forms of identification. He drilled me for a bit regarding my reason for being in the country and my date of arrival. He scared the ever living daylights out of me to be honest. Apparently, the fine for having your feet on the seat of the train is 175 dollars, and according to the security man there is a sign at the exit of the train that warns you of this. I looked for this alleged sign. It’s like reading the fine print on the back of a medicine bottle. Luckily, I only received that very stern warning, and luckily my bus driver immediately following the train was very friendly. Otherwise, I would have written the public transportation company a very angry email…..and probably never sent it.

I’ve been thinking about the difference between a tourist and a traveler. A tourist observes, appreciates, and then moves on. A traveler embraces and partakes in the culture, breathes it in and soaks it up. The traveler wants the good and the bad, wants to do it all, wants the whole experience. The tourist goes on guided tours, has a schedule with a time frame, and asks other tourist for travel advice. The traveler gets in and hangs with the locals, eats what they eat, and does as they do. I want to be a traveler not a tourist. I want to walk down the road less traveled and then cruise back up main street (in a car not a bus. Refer to my last entry).

I’m reading a book that Jimmy Buffett wrote. Just a few chapters in right now, but it‘s pretty good. He’s a man after my own heart. Not in every way of course, but in that he’s a rambler, a fisher, and a fun loving, traveling, music loving dreamer. He claims to have a gypsy soul. I like it. I can relate. Now I just have to figure out how to make as much money as he has. I don’t supposed I can lobby my travels into a large paycheck. Thanks to Bob for loaning it to me.

Oh and almost forgot, I ate kangaroo meat. Doesn’t taste like chicken.