First Day in OZ

November  2^nd 2011

(I wrote this a while ago obviously….and have since re-read and re-edited it a bit….further down there will be some minor quotations of my current opinion…as opposed to what I thought on November 2^nd 2011…it’s funny for me, may be confusing for you, so I’m sorry in advance..they’ll be this color…but hey, this is my blog, I do what I want J)

Back at the beach! Where I belong

My time in New Zealand was well spent.  I was really looking forward to leaving and starting my adventure in Gold Coast.  That may have had a lot to do with Matt’s descriptions of what I came to (which were WAY off) and the weather (another thing Matt lied about, because it was definitely NOT spring).  I think I came into NZ with a different mindset about where I was going and what I was going to do. 

However, when the time came to go, I felt a sadness that I wasn’t expecting before.  I had found my place in a way.  I was just coming into my own.   I had 3 jobs, 2 of which I enjoyed.  I had just started making real friends instead of acquaintances.  It was nice feeling.  One of which I wasn’t originally expecting because after the road trip my only motivation was to make back the money I had spent and save up for Gold Coast like an ant stores for winter.

Instead of being so closed off to the rest of New Zealand, I found when I opened myself up more I really began to enjoy it.  It wasn’t the first time I felt this way, it always happens.  I moved around a lot when I was younger and it always seemed that right as I began to find my way, we would move again and I would have to start all over.  I don’t blame anyone in particular for this, it’s just a fact and probably contributes to the wanderlust that I currently experience from time to time.   

When you first arrive at a new destination it all seems so HUGE.  Like it’s unconquerable almost, it’s overwhelming at times but I found the longer I was there, the easier it was to do things.  The more I got involved, the more I was invited to places, the more fun I had.  It’s a snowball effect. 

Tough to be intimidated with views like this

I was surprised when I first stepped off the plane at Gold Coast.  I was expecting to be more intimidated, to be more reclusive.  I was by myself traveling for the first time…ALL BY MYSELF, not just meeting someone, whole new country, didn’t know one person (except for my friend Locky who went to CCU with me, but he lives in Sydney), nowhere to live, nowhere to be. 

But I wasn’t, a little anxiety before we touched down but as soon as we did, it was like a calm came over me.  A sense of purpose, I knew my mission and I knew what I had to do. 

The checklist began like this: currency exchange, phone card so I could call the numbers I had saved and arrange meetings to check out apartments.  I put all this together probably my last week or 2 in New Zealand via the Internet.

That is NOT how that started however…forgot about a little guy named customs.  Funny because at the bag exchange, I struck up a conversation with a random female to pass the time and she had made a comment about how she was from New Zealand and didn’t have to worry about customs. 

I laughed and told her I wasn’t worried either, “I’m AMERICAN, they want me here”…she was not impressed, that’s where our conversation ended.  Maybe people really do hate us….ehhh, whatever, I’m a white American and not to be racist to any other culture in the world but in airports that’s almost like a V.I.P. pass.  They don’t think you want to blow anything up, but they know you want to spend money in their country….works out for everyone really. 

I went through the customs line.  Which if I have any advice about, do NOT under any circumstance get behind a group of Asians.  They carry around the most bags and dumbest stuff.  If they’re not taking pictures of everything in sight they’re lugging around their bags of complete crap that they just bought.  It’s inevitable. 

So of course, I get stuck behind one.  They’re putting through everything you could think of on to the conveyer belt, even some things you wouldn’t think about. 

That took way longer than necessary, I don’t know what these Asians were doing in Gold Coast but I’m pretty sure you don’t need hockey sticks for whatever it is.

Finally it was my turn and wouldn’t you know, I forgot that I had a little item that may be approved but it sure looked like it shouldn’t be.  I had to unpack my bag for a customs agent for my “Jack3d”.  Which for those who don’t know is a sort of protein powder that gives you energy before workouts, that just so happens to have a similar resemblance to cocaine.  FUN.  Forgot about that.  Here we go!

I’m trying to do my “Adam thing” and talk my way out of the situation (minus the usual alcohol influence), the American accent is a funny thing.  To some people (mainly girls) it’s very refreshing, something new, something even cute.  Maybe they just think we’re all rich or can get a green card, I don’t know.  

This gentleman was not impressed by my charm however.  So I begin explaining to him what is in my bag and the only 2 things I can think of that he has a problem with would be the electric shaver and the Jack3d.  He’s asking me if I packed my own bag and remember what’s in it….”what like item for item?”.

I think that’s the only reason he let me off the hook, was because I pretty much gave him a rundown of everything before I took it out.  I had no reason to lie.

 He looked through the whole bag, pulled out the Jack3d container and checked it out (by check out, I mean he opened and looked inside), saw that it wasn’t coke (no test or anything here), told me he would give me the benefit of the doubt and then gave me a proper scolding about how to fill out my immigration card. 

#6 Bring Any Food?

Apparently if it can be ingested it IS CONSIDERED FOOD, good to know…but if you’re scoring at home….White.  American.  Travel checkmate! 

That wasn’t even the hardest part about customs believe it or not, I went through 3 stations where none of the ladies could figure out why I didn’t have an address.  I kept getting weird looks and lots of questions from everyone trying to figure out what the hell I was doing there if I didn’t have a place to go. 

                Airport personnel: “Are you staying with a friend?”

                                Me: “No”

                Airport personnel:”Do you know anyone here with an address?”

                                Me:”No”

                Airport personnel:”Where are you going to stay?”

                                Me:”I don’t know yet”

                Airport personnel: “Why did you come to Australia?”

                                Me: “Because I was in New Zealand and it was close by”

                Airport personnel: (Series of sighs, disgruntled/horrified/confused faces) “Ok”

                                Me:”Aren’t you going to wish me luck!?”

                Airport personnel: “Good luck”

Travel CHECKMATE.  I’m telling you, it’s bulletproof.  I’ve been stopped on this trip several times because no joke, my bag looks like a bomb.  I have all of my electronics/most expensive items near me at all times.  Computer, video camera, phone, wires and plug-ins, plus batteries, the fact that I get through any airport is amazing to me.  But yet again, White.  American.  “This won’t take long” and “Move along sir”.  Thank you and goodnight!

I go through my checklist after customs, stop off to exchange my currency which by the way, New Zealand to Australia is absolute crap.  I go to the nearest computer and put a few coins in (Internet is not free in airports overseas) just to see if there are any updates/emails I need to know about. 

I strike up a conversation with a guy sitting next to me, he’s waiting to go on his shift, he tells me everything I need to know about the bus system.  How much it costs, what I need to get, where to go to get it, how long it is going to take, we chat for a bit and then I head off to do just that. 

A lot easier to navigate than I made it seem on day 1

I get a map and a “GoPass” for the bus.  I hop on said bus which lucky for me is a little early.  I meet Gary the bus driver.  My phone doesn’t work because they didn’t have a phone place in the terminal.  Gary is nice enough to let me use his phone to find my first 2 destinations.  He’s impressed with my story, Gary is more understanding than the customs people.  He likes that I’m here with no plan, he offers to help and gives me directions.   He also gives me his number and says he has an extra surf board if I ever want to come learn. 

He drops me off at 7^th street to get a sim card.  Unfortunately for me, that is NOWHERE near where I need to be and there isn’t a phone store for a few miles.  I talk to a lady at a grocery store who tells me where to go.  My rucksack weighs about 20kg or 44 lbs, no way I’m walking with that strapped to me.  I let out a mighty sigh, in the direction of…well…anyone who was in earshot. 

“You’re a stray aren’t you?”  I turn around and there’s a nice older gentleman standing next to me.  I say “Yes sir, fresh off the plane”.  He offers me a ride to “The Pines” which is a local mall area.  Nice guy, at no point did I think “Wolf Creek” was about to happen.  But then again I refuse to watch “Wolf Creek” because I think it will discourage me from the kindness of strangers. 

 I get out and get my phone situated.  Which is a pain in the balls in Australia, or at least with the Vodafone service, these Aussies are so caught up in physical addresses…I feel like I can’t get anywhere here!  I make up an address, give them some other intangible details and I’m pretty sure that I no longer am in possession of my first born child.  New Zealand was so much easier in all facets of moving. 

I have one for sure address and decide to head there.  I’m looking for Cypress Terrace, I ride the bus up to 27^th ave and walk to Cypress.  I’m looking for 9…I start seeing numbers in the 440’s.  FML.  I check the map, OF COURSE, I’m on NORTH Cypress and there’s a disconnected separate SOUTH Cypress.  Naturally, my keen detection skills have foiled me again.  Arrggh!

I see a guy loading surfboards into his car, I know where I am, I’m simply fishing for sympathy again.  I ask him which way I need to go.  He laughs out loud and tells me that I am way off. 

I realize this bro, I need a direction.  He tells me that he and his buddies are getting ready to go surfing but he’ll give me a ride before.  At this point, I’m absolutely LOVING the vibe GC has to offer.  I mean seriously, how nice are these people?

He drops me off at the first house.  Long story short,  it is absolutely awesome, huge house, huge back deck, nice people, close to the beach, the whole package.  One problem, a little too far south of the main suburbs (where I feel I can find work) and there wasn’t much there, but I keep it in mind and tell them I promised to look at a few others.

               

I walk off and grab lunch, grab a bus and start heading north.  I’m looking for Miami High School, I have no idea where this next place is.  It’s not on my map, I just have a general area.  I’m going over the directions and attempting to get things straight when I hear :

“Excuse me, any chance your name is Adam?”

WHOA.  First initial reaction was to completely ignore this person.  I don’t know a single person in Australia (except for my buddy Lockland who I went to school with at Coastal but he lives in Sydney), I’ve been here for less than 4 hours, I’m on a bus.  How does this person know my name?

So, of course I say Yes!  Damn this curiosity for the unknown I have crawling all over me. 

Turned out his name was Tony, one of the guys I have been emailing back and forth.  He recognized me from a photo, weird. 

Well, Tony was a backup of a backup of a backup.  His place was a little pricey and he already asked me to wire some money for deposit (the only person to do that, bit shady).  So I was already a little indifferent about Tony, just talking to him on the bus, I was completely indifferent.  Little creepy, but I was nice, I took his number and said I already made an appointment with someone else. 

"Magic Mountain" or "Tragic" Mountain?

Bus driver lets me know it’s my turn to get off.  I hop off and walk into a skate shop, they give me the heads up that the place I’m looking for is called “Magic Mountain” and it’s up on top of the hill behind the school.

Amazing view from the bottom, I walk up top and meet the girls. I get to know them a little bit, they’re all from different places, Australia, France, and Canada.  Really nice (fake), sweet girls (they’re succubus’), very goal oriented (heads up their own asses) and chill (if by chill, I think I meant, cold blooded ice queens of shame….by the way this is me editing my own opinion of them right before your very eyes as I’m reading this dribble of a paragraph).  I like this place (looked good on paper for sure), but I feel like I shouldn’t be too hasty in my decision (should have went with that feeling, always go with the gut).  So I decide that this is the best available but I should at least check out 1 more place.  The girls let me know I can keep my rucksack there while I look at the next place.  That’s probably when I knew that I was going to live there (stay away young Adam!...BLAST!…it’s too late, he’s so screwed).

You know it must have been bad to leave a place like this!

 They totally didn’t have to do that and they even offered me a ride in Broadbeach to my next destination.  The decision was pretty much made at that point, so I call the last girl I’m going to go see.  She says she’ll meet me in a hour or so.  I have some time to kill.  I start walking around and I go to the beach.  I see 2 very cute girls walking off and decide to ask them a silly question I already know the answer to. 

Tough to turn down

Works out well, we go have a drink, turns out they’re American as well, studying abroad.  After that I go to the last house, nothing too great here.  I showed up and people were yelling and arguing, it looked quite ghetto, it was close to the beach and the price was about right but the other place was just so much nicer.

I make up something about having more places to go see, but I know that’s not happening.  I call the girls in Miami and tell them that’s where I want to live (sigh), they’re cool with it and start cleaning out my room.

I decide to do a bit more exploring and work my way back to my new digs.  I stop off at a place called “Sushi Train”, because let’s face it, I like Sushi and I like trains.  This can’t be bad!

I get back to the apartment and find out that I just randomly chose the BEST sushi on the beach.  Which it totally was by the way (truly, it’s hit or miss, probably because of the train system…it could have been sitting there for 5 minutes or 5 hours…there’s no way to truly tell)!

               

I spent the rest of the evening chatting with the roomies and researching for jobs, that I planned on hunting for immediately.

Fantastic first day in OZ, hopefully more to come from here!

(Later on Matt would come to visit me and this should have been the first sign of trouble.  The girls didn't like that I allowed Matt to stay with us, or that we went out and partied each and every night he was there....in retrospect I should've realized then but it was too late.  You live.  You learn.  You live again.)

Only pic before Matt went back to America