Today, Celia gave me a ride up to Woodend, since she was headed that way anyway to help her friends Brad and Jane work on their new house. My first stop was at a local bakery, where I bought a "lemon slice" and a sandwich. Further up the street I found a fish and chips shop, and decided to sample their food.
It was pretty bad. All the items were pre-fried, and lacked that crisp quality only found in fresh frying. I think it’s true what Celia’s friends say: The farther you get from the coast, the lower the quality of the fish and chips.
Today, Celia gave me a ride up to Woodend, since she was headed that way anyway to help her friends Brad and Jane work on their new house. My first stop was at a local bakery, where I bought a "lemon slice" and a sandwich. Further up the street I found a fish and chips shop, and decided to sample their food.
It was pretty bad. All the items were pre-fried, and lacked that crisp quality only found in fresh frying. I think it’s true what Celia’s friends say: The farther you get from the coast, the lower the quality of the fish and chips.
Today, Celia gave me a ride up to Woodend, since she was headed that way anyway to help her friends Brad and Jane work on their new house. My first stop was at a local bakery, where I bought a “lemon slice” and a sandwich. Further up the street I found a fish and chips shop, and decided to sample their food.
It was pretty bad. All the items were pre-fried, and lacked that crisp quality only found in fresh frying. I think it’s true what Celia’s friends say: The farther you get from the coast, the lower the quality of the fish and chips.
Part way up, a couple of kids shouted, “Hey! Take our picture!!” I didn’t catch their names. Now their photo is online but they will never find it. Hah!
From the top of Hanging Rock, having a look ’round. I drank some water, took this photograph, then just rested, with my hands on my knees in front of me. I put on my bicycling gloves to keep the sunlight from roasting the backs of my hands. Sun protection, also, is SRS BSNS here in Australia. I’ve heard it said that the government has issued such stern warnings to citizens, against going out into the sun, that there has been a sharp rise in vitamin-D deficiency as a result. They’ve had to step up fortifying their foods.
From the top of Hanging Rock, having a look ’round. I drank some water, took this photograph, then just rested, with my hands on my knees in front of me. I put on my bicycling gloves to keep the sunlight from roasting the backs of my hands. Sun protection, also, is SRS BSNS here in Australia. I’ve heard it said that the government has issued such stern warnings to citizens, against going out into the sun, that there has been a sharp rise in vitamin-D deficiency as a result. They’ve had to step up fortifying their foods.
From the top of Hanging Rock, having a look ’round. I drank some water, took this photograph, then just rested, with my hands on my knees in front of me. I put on my bicycling gloves to keep the sunlight from roasting the backs of my hands. Sun protection, also, is SRS BSNS here in Australia. I’ve heard it said that the government has issued such stern warnings to citizens, against going out into the sun, that there has been a sharp rise in vitamin-D deficiency as a result. They’ve had to step up fortifying their foods.
House construction, temporarily suspended by the inclement weather.
This photo was taken on a bike path at the edge of a small park, and the wind picked up just then, and I had a terrible sneezing fit. Something in the air makes my sinuses go completely crazy for a short while. Don’t know what.
House construction, temporarily suspended by the inclement weather.
This photo was taken on a bike path at the edge of a small park, and the wind picked up just then, and I had a terrible sneezing fit. Something in the air makes my sinuses go completely crazy for a short while. Don’t know what.
House construction, temporarily suspended by the inclement weather.
This photo was taken on a bike path at the edge of a small park, and the wind picked up just then, and I had a terrible sneezing fit. Something in the air makes my sinuses go completely crazy for a short while. Don’t know what.
Brad and Jane, taking a break from house restoration.
Brad and Jane, taking a break from house restoration.
Brad and Jane, taking a break from house restoration.
I helped out for a little whole, scraping old paint from the walls. After an hour or so, Brad went out and fetched dinner for all of us. I ate happily, thinking it was his way of thanking us for the work. Later on Celia pointed out that the food had been expensive and it would have been polite of me to at least offer to pay for my share.
In retrospect I was a bit surprised at my own behavior. After thinking about it I realized that two things were going on:
First, my attitude towards food was very Californian. The total cost of living is very high in California, but the high price of property throws the cost of other things out of proportion. In effect, food is a small portion of the budget, so we think less about spending money on it. In Australia, food is not just relatively expensive, but expensive in absolute terms. My biggest lesson about that came when I went to a shop called Brunetti, intent on buying a treat for my hosts, and ended up spending 75 bucks on what seemed like barely enough macaroons to fill a plate.
Second, I was going through a very inward-focused, and somewhat selfish, time in my life. My usual sense of gratitude was off-kilter, and I didn’t even notice. I was too busy trying to rediscover and redefine myself.
This trip has certainly given me plenty of food for thought.
An iPad is a bulky device, relative to a phone. How well does it perform as a piece of kit on a bike tour? Well, that answer is bound to be a bit subjective. Here are my own impressions.
I used mine extensively when traveling in Australia. My local host Celia took me to a phone store where I got a month-to-month data-only SIM for the iPad. So for 25 bucks, I was able to use the 3G in the iPad all through Australia, including Tasmania.
I used it every day, multiple times a day. I used it to find motels and restaurants, read local news, chat with people on AIM, make reservations and book tickets, send email trip updates from cafes, look at my environment in satellite and street view, etc. It’s even got Skype on it, which is MUCH cheaper for international calls to the folks back home. When the battery was low I could (slowly) charge it using the same adapter I used for the phone, saving a bit of weight.
In restaurants it was a conversation starter. I used it to show people photos from back home. Played a little jazz on it when I was relaxing. I used it with Celia to co-plan my outings the day before, since it was big enough for both of us to see and easily poke at the same time.
I placed the iPad in a saddlebag on the bicycle. Whenever I wanted to know where I was, what was around me, where I needed to go, et cetera, I had to go through a short routine: I stopped, walked around to the back of the bike, fetched the iPad from the bag, and used it while standing there over the rear tire. When I was done I packed it away and got back on the bike. Not a big deal, as long as I don’t have to refer to it often, and as long as I’m in a low-crime environment.
(I had an iPhone on the handlebars but it was for the wrong kind of network, so I couldn’t buy a SIM for it in Australia. The only reason I brought it at all was to use it as a music player while riding.)
The one thing that held me back when using the iPad was that I couldn’t immediately call ahead to the hotels I found that didn’t offer digital reservations. I’m pretty sure some cleverness with Skype would have solved that problem.
So, would I travel with an iPad in the future? After all of these use cases you’d think my answer would be an instant “yes”, but here’s the thing: If I bring a laptop, and I already have a phone with a data plan to tether it, then I just don’t need the iPad. … And I am a huge nerd, so a laptop is probably a given for almost all long journeys.
It’s worth noting one more difference between an iPad and a laptop: You stand a chance of charging the iPad with a solar panel. You could conceivably go camping in the woods for a couple of weeks, and use your iPad the whole time, while the laptop would die after a day or two. But on the other hand, when you’re on a bike trip, you’re on roads – and where there are roads, there is almost always electricity nearby. You’d have to be a very particular individual on a very particular bicycle trip – say, a gadget hound meandering through Kazakhstan – for that to shift the balance.
If I had a phone but could not bring a laptop, would I want to bring the iPad?
That’s a more interesting question. Different people have different ways of navigating or documenting their travel, and personally, I’m used to having a laptop, and would still want to do all the things I usually do with it. Most of those activities are difficult or uncomfortable on a phone screen.
With the iPad along I could:
Import and store photos from my camera without filling up my phone.
Edit and organize those photos more easily than on the phone.
Type journal entries and emails, and chat using instant messaging, a lot more comfortably and quickly than on the phone.
Research my route a bit more comfortably. (Any notes and screenshots I take will sync over to the phone.)
Relax by watching movies and TV shows a lot more comfortably than on the phone.
Conduct video chats more comfortably.
In summary, it’s mostly a matter of comfort. Is that level of comfort worth the extra one pound that the latest iPad weighs? For me, the answer is yes. For others, perhaps not.
There’s a good chunk of history here.
… As well as a good chunk of creepy!
… As well as a good chunk of creepy!
One Halloween, when I was a kid, I was given a maze to color in at school. It was a graveyard in the woods, with the tombstones leaning crazily around, and ghosts and skeletons capering. I decided I would draw my own version of the maze, by tracing shapes out of it, one at a time, onto a new piece of paper. As I went I became enthralled with the idea of a graveyard maze that stretched to infinity – an endless recombination of the same few elements, and the real trick was, it was a three-dimensional place, and if you stood in any spot and took a flat photograph of what you saw, the photograph would make a two-dimensional maze, with an entrance and an exit.
Walking around here brought back that memory, and that idea.
One Halloween, when I was a kid, I was given a maze to color in at school. It was a graveyard in the woods, with the tombstones leaning crazily around, and ghosts and skeletons capering. I decided I would draw my own version of the maze, by tracing shapes out of it, one at a time, onto a new piece of paper. As I went I became enthralled with the idea of a graveyard maze that stretched to infinity – an endless recombination of the same few elements, and the real trick was, it was a three-dimensional place, and if you stood in any spot and took a flat photograph of what you saw, the photograph would make a two-dimensional maze, with an entrance and an exit.
Walking around here brought back that memory, and that idea.
One Halloween, when I was a kid, I was given a maze to color in at school. It was a graveyard in the woods, with the tombstones leaning crazily around, and ghosts and skeletons capering. I decided I would draw my own version of the maze, by tracing shapes out of it, one at a time, onto a new piece of paper. As I went I became enthralled with the idea of a graveyard maze that stretched to infinity – an endless recombination of the same few elements, and the real trick was, it was a three-dimensional place, and if you stood in any spot and took a flat photograph of what you saw, the photograph would make a two-dimensional maze, with an entrance and an exit.
Walking around here brought back that memory, and that idea.
"The Werewolf", by Angela Carter, describes graveyards as "those bleak and touching townships of the dead."
Buried here, we find three of the four people who headed the first Western expedition to cross the continent of Australia.
Buried here, we find three of the four people who headed the first Western expedition to cross the continent of Australia.
Walter Lindrum was the founder and first president of the Sportsmen’s Association of Australia. The grave is cleverly designed – the pockets in the "pool table" have tiny holes in them so the table doesn’t fill with water.
Walter Lindrum was the founder and first president of the Sportsmen’s Association of Australia. The grave is cleverly designed – the pockets in the "pool table" have tiny holes in them so the table doesn’t fill with water.
Walter Lindrum was the founder and first president of the Sportsmen’s Association of Australia. The grave is cleverly designed – the pockets in the “pool table” have tiny holes in them so the table doesn’t fill with water.
As part of my Australia adventure, I decided to eat as the Australians eat. I decided that this meant eating lots of fish and chips. Sea Salt served their fish thickly battered, and made the chips nice and crispy for me, even though soggy chips are more traditional.
As part of my Australia adventure, I decided to eat as the Australians eat. I decided that this meant eating lots of fish and chips. Sea Salt served their fish thickly battered, and made the chips nice and crispy for me, even though soggy chips are more traditional.
As part of my Australia adventure, I decided to eat as the Australians eat. I decided that this meant eating lots of fish and chips. “Sea Salt” served their fish thickly battered, and made the chips nice and crispy for me, even though soggy chips are more traditional.
(I decided I had to stop being vegan in November, when my symptoms were extremely bad. I’ve still strongly de-emphasized dairy, and I don’t like milk. My symptoms have improved in the last month. I may try for vegan again at some point, since I suspect the improvement was for unrelated reasons.)
I’m a bike nerd, and I thought this bike was nifty, so here you go!
Celia took me on an adventure to the local shops. “Hipster”, here, doesn’t seem to have the instant negative connotation that it has been accumulating in the ‘states.
No, I didn’t buy it, but I was very amused to see a freakin’ FIG PUDDING invoke internet buzzwords to describe itself. I wonder how long we’ll wait before a supermarket product like, say, hand soap, bears the acronym “OMFG”. Or, a package of bologna proclaims “WTF???” (That would be appropriate.)
Taking a post-ride break at the entrance to Celia’s apartment. I had the Secret of Mana+ album playing on a loop in my headphones the entire day, and now it’s thoroughly associated with this little warm, sunlit alcove.
Taking a post-ride break at the entrance to Celia’s apartment. I had the Secret of Mana+ album playing on a loop in my headphones the entire day, and now it’s thoroughly associated with this little warm, sunlit alcove.
Taking a post-ride break at the entrance to Celia’s apartment. I had the Secret of Mana+ album playing on a loop in my headphones the entire day, and now it’s thoroughly associated with this little warm, sunlit alcove.
One night Celia and I visited a friend’s house, and she spotted a huge spider on the wall. Spiders are Serious Business business in Australia – there are some common species that will cause necrosis from a bite, or nerve damage, or even kill you. Back in the ‘states I do everything I can do rescue spiders in the house, provided they don’t try to creep into my bed or establish themselves near it. Here, the rules are different. You don’t want critters this lethal anywhere near your living space.
The customs process was easy. Two officials asked me to open my bike box so they could inspect the bike tires for dangerous types of soil, and I complied.
Celia met me at the passenger exit zone. I used a handcart to pull the box over to her car, and had a minor brainmelt when I saw that the steering wheel was on the right-hand side. From there I was in a state of constant wonder, watching all the cars around me, driving on the left. “I’m in Australia!!” I kept exclaiming.
Celia laughed, and told some stories about her own travels abroad. She drove me through a maze of streets and highways to her apartment complex.
Then, she led the way while I hauled the bike box up to her living room, and cracked it open. Everything looked great! While reassembling the bike I discovered that the rear wheel had a broken spoke, so Celia and I walked a few blocks down to a bike shop and I dropped the wheel off for repairs. Then we walked further, to a phone store, to get a SIM for the iPad. They didn’t sell them. Bah! So, undaunted, we caught the bus across the street to downtown Melbourne, and got a one-month 4GB SIM at a different shop. They needed an Australia-local ID and credit card for it, and Celia agreed to provide it, which was extremely nice I thought!
We went walking around. Celia took me to an awesome underground comic book and collectible shop, then to a lovely chocolate shop, then we stopped and watched a nifty street musician sing a few songs with his electric blues guitar. We took the tram back uptown to the apartment, and Celia helped me get established in her spare room. Then we went walking to a thai restaurant. I was amused to discover that westernized thai food on this side of the planet tastes just the same. Celia and I had great conversation and walked home late.
All in all, it was a wonderful first day in Melbourne, thanks in huge part to Celia. She rocks!!!
The next several days were a blur, of short exploratory bike trips, visits from Celia’s friends, ("come over and meet the feral American I have trapped in my house!"), samplings of the local food and shops, and hanging out with Celia.
I had some initial disorientation from jetlag, and this was replaced by a more general disorientation at being in a totally novel environment and cut off from everyone I knew. Eventually that wore off, and interestingly, what helped the most were the times when I was out exploring the city on my bike. I became keenly aware of how the bicycle, and all the gear on it, were intimately familiar to me, like a horse to its rider. It was my oversized purse, filled with toys and supplies. And when parked, it was my anchor.
The next several days were a blur, of short exploratory bike trips, visits from Celia’s friends, ("come over and meet the feral American I have trapped in my house!"), samplings of the local food and shops, and hanging out with Celia.
I had some initial disorientation from jetlag, and this was replaced by a more general disorientation at being in a totally novel environment and cut off from everyone I knew. Eventually that wore off, and interestingly, what helped the most were the times when I was out exploring the city on my bike. I became keenly aware of how the bicycle, and all the gear on it, were intimately familiar to me, like a horse to its rider. It was my oversized purse, filled with toys and supplies. And when parked, it was my anchor.
The next several days were a blur, of short exploratory bike trips, visits from Celia’s friends, (“come over and meet the feral American I have trapped in my house!”), samplings of the local food and shops, and hanging out with Celia. I had some initial disorientation from jetlag, and this was replaced by a more general disorientation at being in a totally novel environment and cut off from everyone I knew. Eventually that wore off, and interestingly, what helped the most were the times when I was out exploring the city on my bike. I became keenly aware of how the bicycle, and all the gear on it, were intimately familiar to me, like a horse to its rider. Sometimes, after placing the kickstand and preparing to walk around, I would pat the bicycle on the seat before walking away, like saying “good job” a beloved animal.
Locals were extremely friendly, to me and to each other. Men smiled and winked and nodded and gave double-thumbs-up, even when conducting business transactions. The typical way to end a conversation was “no worries”. All this ebullience made me feel like I was behaving rudely by not grinning ear to ear. I guess I’m not as outgoing as I thought I was! My dress style is perfect though – shaved head and t-shirt is typical for men here. Maybe we’re all going for the Jason Statham look.
Everywhere I rode I saw a profusion of hearty pale-skinned women, many with red hair, and I found it difficult to avoid staring sometimes. Usually I am a subtle ogler, unlike, say, my housemate Matt, but several times when I was walking downtown I had to stop what I was doing and crane my neck as someone passed by. It’s a bit ironic having all these redheads living their lives in Australian seasons. Celia herself is a pale redhead, and on intense days she walks around with a parasol to avoid being burned to a crisp by the summer sun.
Melbourne – and the surrounding towns it has absorbed – are host to some enchanting brickwork. Check out those decorations along the upper façade. They’re very common, and a bit evocative of a mausoleum, and with my California eyes I couldn’t help thinking that in an earthquake, these brick buildings would become just that: A giant mausoleum. But Melbourne is right in the middle of a huge tectonic plate, so, no worries.
Melbourne – and the surrounding towns it has absorbed – are host to some enchanting brickwork. Check out those decorations along the upper façade. They’re very common, and a bit evocative of a mausoleum, and with my California eyes I couldn’t help thinking that in an earthquake, these brick buildings would become just that: A giant mausoleum. But Melbourne is right in the middle of a huge tectonic plate, so, no worries.
Melbourne – and the surrounding towns it has absorbed – are host to some enchanting brickwork. Check out those decorations along the upper façade. They’re very common, and a bit evocative of a mausoleum, and with my California-biased eyes I couldn’t help thinking that in an earthquake, these brick buildings would become just that: A giant mausoleum. But Melbourne is right in the middle of a huge tectonic plate, so, no worries.
A house of this build, on a piece of property this narrow, will cost you about three hundred thousand dollars here. This is more than Oakland but less than San Jose and much less than San Francisco.
The general cost of living is higher in this region as well – food and equipment are both slightly more expensive than California, which makes sense. On the other hand, wages are more balanced here. A teacher here makes between 35 and 65 thousand a year, based on experience. A teacher in the US makes between 20 and 55 thousand a year, based on region and experience (Worst: Montana. Best: California.) Source: <a href=”http://www.educationworld.net/salaries_us.html” rel=”nofollow”>www.educationworld.net/salaries_us.html</a> . So, in effect, housing prices are a smaller portion of total income here.
In all my riding around I did not pass through any region nearly as dangerous or degraded as Oakland. People will shout and rant but no one looked like they might actually try and kill me if I put a foot wrong (like I have felt multiple times in Oakland).
For some crazy reason I still enjoy living in Oakland.
A house of this build, on a piece of property this narrow, will cost you about three hundred thousand dollars here. This is more than Oakland but less than San Jose and much less than San Francisco.
The general cost of living is higher in this region as well – food and equipment are both slightly more expensive than California, which makes sense. On the other hand, wages are more balanced here. A teacher here makes between 35 and 65 thousand a year, based on experience. A teacher in the US makes between 20 and 55 thousand a year, based on region and experience (Worst: Montana. Best: California.) Source: <a href=”http://www.educationworld.net/salaries_us.html” rel=”nofollow”>www.educationworld.net/salaries_us.html</a> . So, in effect, housing prices are a smaller portion of total income here.
In all my riding around I did not pass through any region nearly as dangerous or degraded as Oakland. People will shout and rant but no one looked like they might actually try and kill me if I put a foot wrong (like I have felt multiple times in Oakland).
For some crazy reason I still enjoy living in Oakland.
A house of this build, on a piece of property this narrow, will cost you about three hundred thousand dollars here. This is more than Oakland but less than San Jose and much less than San Francisco. The general cost of living is higher in this region as well – food and equipment are both slightly more expensive than I find in California, which makes sense. On the other hand, wages are more balanced here. A teacher here makes between 35 and 65 thousand dollars a year, based on experience. A teacher in the US makes between 20 and 55 thousand a year, based on region and experience (Worst: Montana. Best: California.) (Source.) So, in effect, housing prices are a smaller portion of total income here.
In all my riding around I did not pass through any region nearly as dangerous or degraded as Oakland. People will shout and rant but no one looked like they might actually try and kill me if I put a foot wrong (like I have felt multiple times in Oakland).
For some crazy reason I still enjoy living in Oakland.
Passing the iPad around the table. We all agreed to call it the Magic Book, as a nod to Diamond Age and Neal Stephenson, because "iPad" still sounds embarrassing.
Passing the iPad around the table. We all agreed to call it the Magic Book, as a nod to Diamond Age and Neal Stephenson, because "iPad" still sounds embarrassing.
Passing the iPad around the table. We all agreed to call it the Magic Book, as a nod to Diamond Age and Neal Stephenson, because “iPad” still sounds embarrassing.
