"So this is why they call it the bush" Continued

After returning to Brisbane from Cannondale I joined our team leader, Cameron at his friend Amanda's apartment for some beers. That's the second real living dwelling that I've been to in this country. We sat on her balcony (which they call a veranda) and she had a beautiful view of the city. Apparently both Cameron and Amanda normally don't care for Americans... ok I think they might have used the word "hate" but that's kinda harsh so I'm pretending they didn't say that.

But I passed the acceptable test and of course we had to discuss the reasons why this is the case. I think it all pretty much comes down to an ignorant self-centered cockiness that has been their past experience with Americans. Amanda was extremely well-educated about American politics. She said she thinks our candidate choices are really sucky and she doesn't think either one is a good pick. But I asked her if she could think of someone who would be a good option and she didn't have an answer for this. However, she did comment that my reason for voting for Obama is the best argument for either candidate that she has heard anywhere. (I think that was the moment I passed the American test.)

On Saturday morning I joined a tour group to go to Morton Island for 2 days and 1 night. Morton Island is another sand island, just not as large as Fraser Island. This adventure included snorkeling among ship wrecks, sand tobogganing in the desert, visiting a fresh water lake, a lighthouse and another beach with rips strong enough that it was not advisable to enter the water even just up to your knees. Unexpected adventures included: breaking down in the 4-wheel-drive truck on the inland sand track, witnessing a bird/duck creature pluck a fish out of the water that was twice the width of the bird’s neck and swallow it whole, rain, and my first Australian campfire.

Saturday night’s sunset from the western beach might have been the most beautiful sunset I have seen in this country yet... and I've seen a lot a sunsets.

On Sunday night we returned to Brisbane. Technically I was no longer supposed to be staying at the CVA house in Brisbane. But since I only took one small bag to Morton, I had to go back to the house to get the rest of my stuff. And the house sleeps 20 people and I knew there was only 1 person scheduled to be there on Sunday night. Annnd since I knew the door code, it seemed a waste to not just sleep there for one more night. So I went back to Albion and crept quietly around that creepy old house. Luckily the one other person staying there, who I hadn't met before, wasn't frightened by my presence and I got a free place to stay for the night. I packed up early on Monday and crept out without anyone from the office noticing.

I took an 8:15am train from the house to the main station in the city where to get the Greyhound bus to Byron Bay. The train was full of people going to work -- in offices! I had tuned that part of life out of my head for so long that I'd kinda forgotten that not all people in Australia are environmental team leaders or tour guides who don't wear shoes. But even so, sitting in a coffee shop in a train station in Brisbane and watching people go to work, I noticed that they looked so much more relaxed, so much less frantic, and so much less crowded than people in New York.

I spent 4 weekends in Brisbane and initially I wasn't so impressed. But by the end it had begun to grown on me. It reminds me of Denver…except with palm trees and purple trees and a beach not so far away and people who conclude every paragraph with "no worries".

See more pictures at:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=39458&l=8dc01&id=802088251