Rules and Regulations

Australians have a particular affinity to rules and regulations in order to keep the public “safe.” When swimming at a beach, one must swim between the two flags which are positioned about 100 meters apart because it is the “safest” place to swim. Keep in mind beaches in Australia, or at least the ones I have seen, stretch 40 km plus. I say “safest” because on a busy day the concentration of people looking to swim is so high that the risk of swimming into someone else easily outweighs the risk of swimming on the beach somewhere else that may be “more dangerous.” It is common, especially in the big cities to see surveillance cameras set up, even on walkways in the suburbs. I suppose this is for the safety of the individual. There are many examples of these precautions that the local, state, and federal governments take to ensure the “safety” of the public. If you have ever read George Orwell’s 1984, you will have a better idea of what I am talking about.

The best and most recent example of the safety precautions taken by Australia’s finest occurred yesterday as Kyle and I were driving to the beach. While driving on the opposite side of the road has been interesting, the transition has come along quite fine and I am comfortable driving. So, when I was pulled over by a patrol car yesterday, I was confident that I had done nothing wrong, yet still entertained the idea as the officer walked to the window. She informs us that in Australia it is law to wear seatbelts. This is curious, not only because I didn’t even have to check my seatbelt as wearing a seatbelt is generally automatic for me. I asked who was not wearing a seatbelt and she notions to me. Now, since I was actually buckled in and had been since I got in the car, I thought to ask something along the lines of “what the hell have you been smoking?” Apparently, by Australian Law, it is a requirement that seatbelts must be worn above the top of the shoulder, obviously for the “safety” of the driver. Many of you already know of a biking accident that separated my shoulder. The shoulder is feeling much better but is still tender to direct pressure. So, I often find myself pulling the seatbelt, not behind my head, but across my chest under my armpit. As informed to me by the officer, this is illegal. She says that if one needs to wear a seatbelt in a manner other than as the law states, one must need to get a doctor’s note and a special document saying that you are exempt from this highly important law. So, after three weeks of being in Australia, I should have read up on this highly important law, gotten a doctor’s note, and the document of exemption – what the hell was I thinking! I suppose ignorance is not a legitimate excuse in this case.

Regardless of my appeal to a warning based on my situation and the fact that the 3” seatbelt position alternation was only temporary and that I would never do it again, I was given a $265 fine.

Now, most who know me understand that there are very few things that really get my motor humming. Two of these things happen to irrationality and people who abuse power. So, you can imagine how I felt when this cunt of a lady decided she would pull out both of them on me all at once(I can use the word “cunt” as is because here in Australia cunt has a slightly less derogatory connotation than in the States, so don’t be offended). In her defense, it appears I was breaking the law and there was “nothing she could do.” I am very tempted to see how much effort it may be to take this one to court just so that the officer can been seen by the public as the completely irrational shithead that she is. Not to mention, the thought of paying Big Brother $265 for a crime as audacious as this, sets my soul on fire.

As she walked away, I thought to myself, “What the hell are you doing in a country like this?” This is no 3^rd world country as I am accustomed to traveling in. Kyle and I finally made it to the beach, where I sat in solitude to collect myself and regain my internal balance. To help top off my relaxation, I even paddled out on Kyle’s board and had a bit of a session – shoulder felt decent doing so as well. Its time I buy a board of my own.

Weeks 1 - 3

Now through my third week here in Australia, it may seem appropriate for me to report on some harrowing tales of adventure. Such is not the case. I could spend this blog ranting about things like super-taxed liquor prices, New Year’s Eve drinking restrictions, my distaste for larger cities, or some other culture difference that exists here,  but I will keep a positive outlook for my first blog to better reflect my true sentiments of my first few weeks here on the other side of the earth.

I landed here in Sydney on the 29^th of December. Within 2 hours of landing I was eating fish n chips on Coogee beach with my travel companion, Kyle, and a friend from the US, Jen, who was graciously letting us stay in her flat. A few hours later, I was drinking some tequila and beers with all of her Irish flat mates. It was a well spent first day, but as I alluded to before with the taxing on liquor, this type of night would become a rarity. The next day Kyle and I called Kevin, a good friend of my aunt from their days living in Los Angeles. Kevin, ever since my second day in Australia has been hosting us at his house and what a gracious host he has been. No, simply calling Kevin a gracious host would be an understatement. He has shared copious bottles of delicious wine, drove us on sightseeing tours, helped us through searches for cars, banks, phones, tax file numbers, chatted with potential car salesmen while we gallivant around town test-driving the car, let us sleep in his place for 2 weeks, and even shared meals with us about every night of the week. Any successes we have had thus far on this trip are due mostly to Kevin’s willingness to help and his unlimited knowledge of Australia.

Kevin invited us to view the early fireworks with him and his son on the expressway in view of the Opera house and the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Kyle and then met up with Jen and some of her friends across the bridge in a park for the midnight show. Even the “smaller” early fireworks show was much more extravagant than any show I have seen in my life. Even still, the early fireworks were nothing compared the midnight display. After the fireworks, there was such a massive sea of people looking to board the trains; it took us about 2 hours to get home.

I mentioned car searches above. Kyle and I decided that getting a campervan of sorts would be a good way to see Australia and to help us better find those hidden surf spots. After a roller coaster ride of let downs and excitement, we finally landed on a 1989 VW Caravelle (a bit of a later version of the classic bus, or Kombi as they call them here). It’s fitted out with a queen sized bed, plenty of storage, stove, etc. We added a few extra items to make living easier – 2, 5-foot PVC poles (still looking for a good Frisbee), coolers, table and chairs, etc.

While a jerry can was on our list of items to purchase, necessity proved to be quicker than us. About halfway through her maiden voyage home, we stopped to look at a map, and the bus suddenly died. The gas gauge is broken, so we are supposed to monitor our miles to determine when the refill the tank (370 kms is the average tank the previous owner allowed). When we stopped the trip odometer well less than 370, but regardless we had to go find a gas station, purchase a jerry can, and try to get it started again. Of course, it didn’t start up right away. When starting up an old VW after it has died/run out of gas, it is helpful to manually pour a bit of gasoline into the intake manifold (new term for me) and then start the car. However, it should be noted to make sure the manifold is reconnected properly and firmly. If it is not reconnected properly, the VW will start, but die immediately. After we learned this trick, the bus started right up, and we were back to Kevin’s within a few minutes.

After outfitting the bus, we started out north up the coast. Kevin wrote down a list of all the “must see” beaches from Sydney to Newcastle. The first night we spent in a little beach town called Terrigal overlooking a drop off to a bay. We popped a bottle of bubbly and another of wine that was left by the previous owner, cooked up a good meal on our little camping stove, and slept with the back open to the bay below. 

The next day we mucked around up the coast, Kyle bought a surfboard, and we ended up in a tiny beach town called Blacksmiths. We parked at the lifesaving club on the beach, heard live music, and of course went to check it out only to realize it was a wedding where board shorts and t-shirts were not the expected attire. So, back at the parking lot, feeling like the couple of losers we were, we cooked dinner to the hoots, hollers, and live music coming from the wedding. Later on after dinner we got a tip from a local on where we might find a pub. Feeling like bums on a Saturday night, we quickly got cleaned up, and headed out. The Orana, as we found out, is the only hang out for the fishers and boaters of Blacksmiths. We were greeted, introduced, to a good amount of people. We were invited to homes where we shared more drinks and learned about various flowers that Australians like to grow. It was a picturesque night for travelers arriving in a small town with nothing to expect. After having been in Sydney, the rumors about Australian ladies loving a US accent, seemed to be nothing farther from the truth. This night out definitely shown light on the contrary.

Now we are in Valentine, just to the south east of Newcastle, on Lake Macquarie at Kevin’s lake house with him and his son. We found out during the last few rainstorms that the windshield wipers are quite faulty. Combining our vast knowledge of the inner-workings of vehicles we were able to successfully take off the dashboard panels and maintain the dysfunctional wipers. Dysfunctional wipers may be an issue for people who might be either in a hurry or had a purpose or direction. Luckily for us, if it starts raining we have the ability to pull over and take a nap or read a book until the rain subsides. In fact, it allowed for a 2.5 hour nap two days ago. We do plan on fixing the wipers, but for the moment its back to the road.