MKNonline Blog

Note of integrity: This post was actually written while on the trip, you know…while I still had motivation to spend an hour writing. It was then edited back home when I realized my writing made no sense. Excuse the weird verb tenses that may appear.

IN THE CIRRRRRCCCLLEEE....THE CIRCLE OF....LIIIIIIFFFFEEEE

I just sat on a beach to watch the sun set in all its Lion King Circle-of-Life-like glory. I think that officially means I’m on vacation. Let’s roll it back to September 30th when my trip technically began…

The flights to Australia treated me as kindly as 24 hours in sardine class could treat one. I struggle every vacation with the amount of valuables I bring and the onset panic attacks when I realize I don’t know where my handful of valuables are at all times. Even with just one carry-on, I’m constantly fretting over where my wallet, camera, mp3 player, video camera, laptop, etc. are at all times. So it comes to no surprise (if you know me) that at the LAX stopover, I left my Zune on the plane upon debarking. Luckily, I was paged and reunited with it before re-departure. Eights hours into my trip before my first crisis is actually pretty good for me.

The 13+ hour leg to Sydney was surprisingly ok as well. It helped that I was in front of the galley, so I could lean back without feeling guilty. I always feel guilty when I lean back my seat, but not when I lean back in da’ clubs, yafeelme? No multiplayer airplane games like my Europe trip, but there was a great selection of movie and tv shows from Qantas. I started The Hangover, but lost interest (man card revoked, I know), and mostly stuck to alternately burning out the Daniel Merriweather album available for listening and watching British tv series. I found the Vietnam special of Top Gear enthralling. And I watched about a half season of The I.T. Crowd (verdict: cheesy but funny).

Somewhere early in the Sydney to Darwin leg was where I went crazy from being in the air so long. The dry eyes, lack of sleep, lack of legroom and lack of personal space finally broke me. What really did it was the fact that this flight had plenty of open seats (rare in this day and age), but I got still got stuck with a full row. Oh, and I think a woman was dying on the plane, as a doctor was paged. I went back to use the bathroom later in the flight and saw the passenger doctor administering shots to a real sickly-looking woman. Jet lag caused extreme apathy at her situation. I couldn’t help to wonder who was having a worse flight, me or her. At least if she died, she would’ve gotten some good sleep, AND she did get the whole back row to herself…jealous… (note: she was fine).

A LONG 6-7 hours laters, I was on the ground in Darwin, all 35+ celsius of it. What many maps fail to properly represent is the size of Australia. It’s actually about the width and length of the U.S. or Western Europe. So a flight to Darwin is like a flight from JFK to Seattle.

Checked into Dingo Moon Lodge and found I was rooming with Matt, a German fellow traveling on holiday after just graduating. I would later meet Pinky and David, a Taiwanese girl with only rudimentary English understanding and an older (like 30) Scottish guy, who had been staying and I think traveling together in Darwin looking for work to get their holiday visa extended. They were attempting to be fruit pickers.

Matt and I went to Mindil Beach because I wanted to see the sunset markets. This was like a farmer’s market on crack, insane amounts of Asian food stalls, a whip stall (with expert demonstrations), digeridoo concerts, and all sorts of local crafts and goods. One stall was called the Roadkill Cafe, and they pandered to all the tourists who wanted to try “exotic” Australian meats. I bit and bought a Croc kebab. Tastes like chicken, just really rubbery.

The icing on the cake was the sunset. Watching the fiery red sun set below the sea line with no clouds or anything to obstruct the view while eating greasy Asian food from a stall on a beach was a spectacularly zen experience and a great end to the day. Apparently, this happens daily in the dry season in Darwin. I’m extremely jealous.

Later that night, the Matt and I joined Pinky and David to have some beers and discuss our wanderlust, fruit picking, and my lack of vacation days. It felt like those first nights in college when everyone and everything was new and exciting. I’m happy my trip started so effortlessly, social-wise. It’s a little disappointing I leave for a tour tomorrow morning and can’t get to know them more, but they should still be around when I get back three days later.

Near Death Experiences

This is a new feature I’m introducing for Australia edition since I’m on my own and no one is around to prevent my mishaps. The amount of stories I’m sure I will accumulate on this topic probably warrants its own section.

Today’s near death experience was actually my first steps onto Australian soil. The airport shuttle bus had conveniently dropped me right across the street from Dingo Moon Lodge. Having not quite grasped that Australians drive on the other side of the road and what that meant, I looked LEFT, saw nothing, and started crossing the street. Next thing i remember was some swerving, honking, screaming, and mild embarrassment. Note to self, look RIGHT first (note from Future Mike: I never quite grasped this concept until about the last day, which now leads to problems at home).

I don’t have a crystal ball, but I’m sure this section will only get better as the days go by.

Sorry guys, it’s a little hard to blog when internet costs so much money down under. I’m just finishing up my Darwin leg and going off to Alice Springs next. Don’t worry, there will be an extensive recap of my first few days in Australia.

Before I leave you totally hanging, here is a letter I wrote while out in the Kakadu wilderness. Call it one of my patented over-exaggerations if you wish, but, trying not to sound cliche, you had to be there…

Open Letter to the Flies of Kakadu National Park,

Dear Flies of Kakadu National Park,

My name is Mike, and I have never loathed an entire genus of insects as much as I loathe you, all 1000 unique species of you flies. I don’t know how things work in Australia, but here in the States, we have something called “personal space.” You seem to have no concept of that unwritten rule us humans abide to, as you attempted many, many, many…MANY times to say hello by flying into my eardrums, mouth, and weirdly but most annoyingly, my eyelids. Now, this is barely justifiable if it happens one time. Maybe you were drunk and thought I was attractive and wanted to make out with me. Fine, I get that a lot. But you didn’t stop. Not only did you not stop, you brought an entire posse to also join and constantly ram into all parts of my body and orifices.

NO MEANS NO! Not “Yes, may I have some more, and why don’t you bring your entire extended family to have their turn raping me too…” Yeah, I went there. It might not be politically correct, but I was violated to my very soul by all of you. The lingering scars of what you have done to me will remain for a long time, if not forever. You are the reason why I have to add a disclaimer when I describe how breathtakingly beautiful your home was. And any buzzing I hear, either from your own kind or something as common as the laundry machine, now causes me to have sudden nervous emotional breakdowns. I wish it was possible to sue you.