Wednesday, July 28, 2010

The Beer Pong Tournament

Writing to you from “Bris-Batman Villain”,

Kudos to those who got the reference. 1 point for you.

This last week has been pretty busy. With the start of classes and all that involves, I’ve been running around quite a bit.

While talking to one of the people working for the international student services on the way back from the island trip, I was told that after this trip there weren’t a lot of activities lined up specifically for international students and that in previous years people ended up losing touch. Walking home that very same day, I thought to myself: “You mean to say my exchange is basically over?! I just got here! There’s no way I’m letting THAT happen.” A few minutes later I had come up with a few ideas of activities I could organize myself to add glue to the relationships founded that weekend; the first of which being a beer pong tournament at my apartment. For those of you not familiar with beer pong, it’s a game where two teams of two take turns throwing a ping pong ball at a group of cups filled with beer in the aim of making the other team drink those cups. For more extensive rules and details, refer to this link (Link). In any case, after having run it by the new roommates, I had a green light to throw this ambitious event. It’s important to note that none of my roommates were going to be at the apartment for the actual event. After having discovered this tidbit of information, I realised my roommates were either one of two things: 1. Trusting. Letting a quasi-stranger host a huge party in your house while you’re gone. 2. Absolutely bonkers. Letting a quasi-stranger host a huge party in your house while you’re gone. Either way, this event was ON.

I used my jovial used car salesman skills as well as my facebook whore status to get the news out about this thing and hopefully have enough players to fill 16 teams (so 32 people minimum). After two days of this, I already had my 16 teams and people were asking if they could come anyways. Hmmm... Sure. A day before the event I had 63 RSVP confirmations on the facebook event. Usually, that means 1/3 of those people would actually show up. I somehow got the feeling that in this particular case that ment that 1/3 of the people showing up had actually RSVP’ed... This was getting big.

We live 20 meters away from the City’s main stadium. There was a game on that night. There was going to be a lot of noise on the street anyways so hopefully, the police would not be an issue. I had all the material I needed to get this event off the ground without a hitch (basically 24 plastic cups... ). I opted to lock off the first level where all of our rooms were and only use the basement. This later turned out to be the best idea I had had.

The night of the party – 8 pm: I had planned to start the tournament at 8, but had told everyone to be there at 7 to accommodate for people pulling the old fashionably late... Unfortunately, there weren’t even 20 people here yet so there was no way we could start. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be a flop.

9:30 pm – Yes! 32 people! I have my tournament! I had asked everyone to write their name down on a piece of paper and put it in a sailor’s hat that was lying around. I picked the teams from there but by the time I had finished picking the teams and they had been written down, a group of people had arrived who also wanted to play. I added onto the teams, making them bigger. For the most part, these were first time players, so it was a way for them to meet new people in the context of a just-for-fun tournament.

10 pm – The first games were underway. People kept piling onto the teams till I had 16 teams of 4 people (64 people for our slow readers) and even then I had people requesting to be put on a team because they weren’t. “Next time, sacrifice being fashionable”, I basically told them. They of course did not understand what I was talking about so I had to explain further. Everything was going off beautifully! I was initiating the world to beer pong!

10:15 pm – I was gearing up to start my first game when Thomas, one of my German buddies, runs up to me in a panic and starts yelling at me in German. Understandably confused, I requested English. “Some guy has opened his head on the concrete in the backyard. There’s blood everywhere!” Well, isn’t that just great. The roommates and I were just discussing how we wanted to paint the driveway red. I rushed outside accompanied by quick thinking, first aid trained Claire. We surveyed the situation. She took care of our friend (who’s wound was not as bad as first imagined by yours truly) and we mutually decided that an ambulance wasn’t needed but that we should bring him to the hospital by cab. Thankfully, I had already made some friends in my short stay here on which I could count and leave in charge (You know who you are and I thank you once again. Silje, Kat, Maxim and Sam, you guys are the best). I went to the nearest hospital with this guy and Claire to make sure it was nothing serious. The tournament went on without me.

12:30 pm – About (Not ABOOT LAUREN!) 2:30 hours later, we were back at the apartment and everything was peachy once again; a few broken bottles, but nothing major. Thank god I had locked upstairs. I still had not played one round of beer pong! My team was unfortunately out of the tournament... CRUEL NIGHT! It was clear in my head that I was playing as soon as the tournament was over. I kept socializing in the meantime.

Get in the cab, fool.  I'm missing my party.
2 am – The finals rolled around. I was excited; partly because I knew the finalists, but more because I was going to get to play soon... In the end, the winners were all first time players: Ruby, Sven, Tucker and Ditte. Congratulations and more importantly, pass the game on!

2:30am – I got three other experienced players together (2 Americans and 1 German) and we had a clash of titans! Beautiful, the stress of the night just melted away.

You can't play THIS at a hospital! Yet...
3-4 am – People started packing up and leaving. The most frequent comment I got from people resembled:”Hey Joël, you know that movie American Pie? This is the first time I’ve been to a party like that!!!” I could now go to bed with a smile!

6 am - All problems had been taken care of, and the night had passed! The last people were leaving. I was on top of the world. “Can’t wait for the next one”, they said. “I can!” I replied. One of my roommates walked in from work: “Holy cow! Look at this mess! Joël, you’re cleaning that up tomorrow right?” CAN’T I ENJOY MY VICTORY FOR ONE SECOND!

All in all, it was a memorable night. I tested my organisational skills once again, and they passed. I easily cleared the “85-90 persons in my house at one time” level. I filled up 3 of these bad boys with beer bottles (Link). The only thing that really stung about throwing this party is that Queensland, the state Brisbane is in, doesn’t refund you for bottles. (Pat, Tom, I could easily have beaten our record... By double if not more...) A single tear rode down to the bottom of my cheek when I realised this. Now, I need to recover.

Lesson learned: Before buying a house, check if the area the house is located in refunds empty bottles. If not, that’s a deal breaker. I don’t care how nice the house is.

Australianly yours,

Joël

Monday, July 19, 2010

Straddie Island

Writing to you from a small room, in a big apartment, on a big street, in a big city!

The past three days have been unbelievable.  Being the prepared and motivated person that I am, I had absolutely no idea of where I was actually going and only learned how to correctly say the name of the island we were on 3 hours before leaving it.  This trip was the culmination of orientation week for the international students and a way for us to meet the people we had not yet met and strengthen relationships with people we had met that week.  On the menu, 3 days of activities including surfing, kayaking, a nature walk, a beach party and a night at a local bar.

Day 1 (Friday) – We left the campus on buses at around 9 am.  While waiting for the buses to show up, I taught some Germans how to play haki sack and not to brag or anything, they picked it up pretty quickly, when they dropped it that is.  I met a girl from Taiwan on the bus and she ended up DJ’ing my ipod for a good part of the trip!  (Ruby... I swear I don’t know how Backstreet Boys got on my ipod!) We ended up on a ferry and that’s when I figured we were probably going to an island... The fact that there was a big sign saying “Ferry to Stradbroke Island” had absolutely nothing to do with it.  When we got to the resort,  I was paired up with 4 guys, we got the largest suite in the resort and this was the view from my room...

I knew I was in for a treat of a weekend.  That night, everyone still strangers to each other, I decided to organize a small ice breaker activity for my German haki buddies, as well as my weekend roommates!  We got some plastic cups and set ourselves up a game of Flipcup.  2 teams, 4 cups - Race time.  Germany on one side of the table, Canada, US and France on the other; the tension was incredible.  Since our team only had 3 members, I bit the bullet and did the first and last leg.  Beads of sweat inching themselves ever so closer to the bottom of our foreheads as we waited for the race to start, we realized we had not designated anyone to start the race... The American said “Go!”  A clash of titans occurred.  All I can say about the results is that Germany ultimately found themselves repeating the performance their country had put on at the world cup.  For those of you that didn’t follow the world cup, Spain won.  Only one team wins the world cup.  I hope that’s clear enough.  Germany was promised a rematch at some point in the next 5 months.  The beach party that ensued was LEGEN... Wait for it... DARY! (Thanks Barney). Fire twirling, swimming and random Australians were all of part of this crazy camp fire.

Day 2 (Saturday) – Today, I got to ride tall blue watery things with a long paddle shaped thingy.  I think they said it was surfing...  It felt strange to paddle 20 meters out into the ocean, only to have to come back standing on this paddle thingy or have the instructors yell at me for going too far.  Plus, whenever I did come back, I always ended up wiping out and swallowing a ton of salt water.  To top that off, they made me wear a ridiculously tight suit to do it all.  I’m not entirely sure because I was underwater, but I think the instructors were laughing every time I fell too!  If I knew I was going to be ridiculed all morning I would have slept in!  But to be serious, I loved it!  So much so that I decided to go back with a friend in the afternoon during our free time and try it again!  I had fallen in love.  Sitting on a board 20 meters out with locals waiting for waves to come, you realize that the people living on this island have one of the most relaxed lifestyles on earth.  They live on an Island!  If you ever have an opportunity to surf, do it!

After this day of hard work, we headed off to the local bar to socialize a bit.  We quickly found out that the bar closed at midnight, and we had shown up at 10.  I thought since we had been given the biggest room in the resort, that it was our duty to host the after party!  My roommates were not of the same opinion (at the time the idea arose)...  After two hours of convincing, they were onboard.  The only problem was that we hadn’t told anyone that we were hosting... Everyone was walking back down to the hotel to sleep...  We scattered and scrambled to tell everyone:”PARTY IN ROOM 31!”  I ran back to the room (about 2 km away) yelling at people I passed “PARTY IN ROOM 31!” When I got there, Nico, one of my roommates, had already set up the bar (Yes, we had a bar...). Hopefully, people would show up.  Did they ever.  Snoop Dogg can take his “Party at the Holiday Inn” and keep it.  This was much better.

Day 3 (Sunday) – Suffice to say this day was very quiet on most fronts... I’ll let you guess why.  My group got a guided walk of the island with some breathtaking sight, such as this one:

We hoped on a bus back to Brisbane, no longer as international students studying at QUT, but QUT students come from everywhere in the world... I know, I know... Corny.

Lesson learned: If a weekend at a resort can’t bring people together, nothing will.  Ever.

Australianly yours,

Joël


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Thursday, July 15, 2010

(Dis)Orientation week

Writing to you for the capital of skin cancer, beautiful Australia!

Yep, it’s true.  I found out a couple days ago. Australia is also the continent with the most animals and plants that can kill you.  Lovely.  I’ve signed up to live in a death trap!  Nobody even warned me about the fact I should bring my scooter along (Link) as to evade all these hazards.  I’m not even kidding!  It seems everyone has a scooter here except me!  I saw a horizontally gifted man riding one in a suit downtown today!  The worst part is I’m not even making this up!  Brisbane is crazy for scooters!  This is probably where our old fads (Canada) come to die... I’ll keep on the lookout for Pokémon cards, yo-yo’s, crazy bones and magic cards and report any findings.  Thankfully, none of the international students I met during orientation week had scooters.  That would have been too much.

 We got to kick off our arrival in Brisbane with the mandatory speeches restating everything that had been sent to us by e-mail. I’m never reading another e-mail ever again.  Unless it’s from one of you fine readers out there that is...  Thank god I met some Scotts or that day would have been a write off!  Woot! Scotland!  I wish I had that accent!

The next day we ended up partying on a boat because QUT wanted to remind us that we were fresh off the boat, as to put us back in our place!  No but in all seriousness, the boat cruise was a riot!  After having spoken to a few people, I realized that Norway was the biggest delegation by far.  When the limbo contest started up, I told myself there was Norway I was letting their delegation win this thing!  Sadly, I lost when there were 3 people left and a Norwegian ended up taking the crown.  I will defend our honor in the long run, promise.

Today, we were greeted with open arms by the New Farms Bowls Club. We were going to rock the turf; shoeless.  Yes, they’ve added a need twist to a game we all love, or never heard of depending on the case, barefoot lawn bowling. Basically, you throw a small ball about 15 meters away.  You proceed to throw big balls at that small ball.  Whoever gets the closest gets a point.  Plus, YOU'RE NOT WEARING ANY SHOES!


I’m not going to lie, I got into it.  I was ready to make T-shirts and start a team after half an hour.  As for the rest of my team, they were not so keen.  I took a breather to get over this fact when the Fin on my team asked me if I had ever been to his hometown, Helsinki.  I told him: “No... But I have been to helfloaty!”.  Suffice to say he was not amused...  Nor was the rest of my team. I guess they just need more time to get me...

Lesson learned: Don’t joke with Fins.  They will think you’re flirting with them.

Tomorrow, I’m off on a 3 day orientation camp where I will tempt my hand at surfing; and most likely my feet; and the rest of my body too.

Tata for now,
Australianly yours,

Joël

P.S. They had this really cool idea here.  You know how some people walk into the screen door some times and break it (Not me, I never do that)?  Well, every house in this fine city has a metal grill (visible) on the screen door.  It keeps its functionality, adds a new one, and also gives the screen door a bit of personality.  Think about it!  I smell a North American business opportunity!

P.P.S. Photos in the next post, I swear!
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Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Travelling to the Brisbane Ghetto

G’day mates!

As most of you know, I practiced speed skating at a high level for a couple years and the sport and what it has taught me, whether I choose to acknowledge it or not, will stay with me till I exuberantly take my final breath, I’m sure. I did not skate last year and was planning on taking it up again this year. It just so coincides that I’m in Australia... Now, I know what you’re thinking and I have to admit it was also a serious concern of mine. I was told that there were ice rinks in Brisbane and a speed skating club so that was good enough for me to pack my equipment and bring it overseas with me! It’s important to note that once here, I found out there were two skating rinks in the whole city! So with this information in mind, I give you: my trip to the rink!

It all started with a phone call last week. I found a number on one of the rink’s websites and talked to a vibrant woman on the other end who did not hesitate to give me the information I needed. I was all set: I was going to get to meet everyone at a barbecue that same week! Great! I was to meet up with the club at the glorious Iceworld Rink in Acacia Ridge! “Seems easy enough! Iceworld! Wow! This place must be huge!”, I pondered. The only downside to this trip was that there was no actual skating session because of a figure skating competition. Those girls always ruin everything with their skin tight... colourful... shape revealing... suits... Oh sorry... Were getting off topic here...

Anyways, a couple hours before going I looked at the transit system map and it was supposed to take me around 45 minutes to get there. This was more than reasonable to practice a sport I love in what had to be one of the biggest ice rinks on the planet I’m sure! With a name like that, there must be 6-7 ice sheets in that place! I got my stuff together and was headed for acacia ridge! On my way out, my roommates Lauren and Katie asked what I was up to. “I’m off to Acacia Ridge for a barbecue”, I said. This comment prompted Katie: “Why is your barbecue in the ghetto?”. ... Let me tell you that had already made up my mind on how this night was going to go, and how everything was going to look along the way! So I most definitely went through the 7 stages of grief when Katie killed my vision of things...

Shock & Denial – After those comments, I didn’t have much time to discuss it, I was going to be late! Walking towards the bus stop, I told myself: “Pfff... There’s no way Ghetto means the same thing here as it does in Canada. We’re way more hardcore over there, no doubt! What? Am I going to stumble across Kangaroos with bandanas... Please. I take your fact based reality, Katie, and substitute it with my fictional one!”

Pain & Guilt – This started to set in when I was waiting at the cultural centre for my second and final bus. As I looked at the time table to find the pickup time, I noticed that this bus only passed by this stop every hour... I instantly clued in that I wasn’t going to the most popular part of town... As I sat on the bus, the district names were becoming weirder and longer... Woolloongabba, Coorparoo, Moorooka... Oh, Katie, you were right!!

Anger & Bargaining - WHERE AM I GOING?! I passed the industrial part of town, what looked like an abandoned airport, open fields... Where is Acacia Ridge? Why am I even going to this?! I contemplate offering everything I have in my pocket to the bus driver for him to bring me back to town. A transfer ticket, a house key, 7.34$ in change and a pen... That will not cut it. I guess i’m commited. Hopefully I can get home after this... It’s already dark out! (It’s dark by 5:30!).

Despression & Loneliness – I asked the bus driver to tell me when we were near the rink. I resigned to my fate. As I get off the bus, I realize that this is in fact a ghetto in comparison to Brisbane... The houses have no driveways; everyone is parked on the grass. Some of the houses are falling apart and in serious need of a paint job. I’m here! Wherever that is... I mope to the nearest gas station to ask for directions while practicing how to write blood with my fingers, just in case I need it (Link). “Ice world is about 1km that way!” There is hope!

The Upward Turn – I can see the iceworld sign! It’s a neon one! I could most likely win the gold medal for speed walking at this point.

Reconstruction – As I come up on the arena, I realize I’ve been fooled by the dark powers of marketing... Iceworld... This isn’t even Ice Continent, nor could it pass as Ice Country. At best, I would give it a grade of Ice City. My bearings getting back to me, I realize why I was coming to skate in the first place! Not for the glory, but simply to reconcile with the sport.

Acceptance & Hope – As I approached the rink, where the barbecue was happening, I saw a bunch of kids running around laughing, parents socializing... They gave me the warmest of welcomes' once I got there and even fed me... These people are too nice! I can’t wait to be on the ice with these guys Thursday! THIS is what sport is about. Things are looking up!

BONUS – A couple and their daughter offer me a ride back home. I LOVE YOU!

Super duper BONUS – Their daughter, Monique, talks to me about Australian politics on the way home. She’s 12. Impressive.

Until next time, I’m Australianly yours and greatly appreciate your messages.

Joël

P.S. Shout out to the QUT Student Sharehouse for picking up my blog! It is greatly appreciated. http://studentblog.qut.edu.au/

Friday, July 9, 2010

The cultural shock... or rather poke. Yeah, the cultural poke.

Short of the water whirlpool turning the other way when you flush the toilet, I haven’t had much adjust to here... For now. I would certainly make the trip again just to see that spectacle! It’s mind blowing folks! It’s only been a couple days and I already have a stiff neck from looking at it! I was convinced it was an old wives’ tale, but it’s TRUE! Okay, let’s get a hold of ourselves here... I know you must be as excited as I am. But before this post turns out to be uniquely about toilets, let’s change the subject.

Beets in burgers! What! Why didn’t I think of that?! Delicious, nutritious, colourful and just plain living on the edge; putting beets in your burger has apparently been part of Australian culture forever. Crazy. Not just any beets either, pickled beets! Yeah, let your mouths ponder that for a while... Choking on saliva yet? I was. For those beet haters out there who told me beets taste like dirt... Take it back... It hurts. I’ll send my roommates after you! As one of them valiantly stated:"I could eat beetroot out the tit"; so you know they love it for real... You don’t find devotion like that on every street corner. Even McDonald’s has joined the fun with their McOz burger, which, you guessed it, has some kind of cheap canned version of what is supposedly a beet in their burger!

In other news, I’ve been saying and writing “Oi” wrong all these years... I’ve been saying “Oy”. What a chump... It seems I’ve been parading around as a dyslexic gangster for the last couple years instead of the cool and assertive dude that I was aiming for. My image is ruined. Thank god for beer. I’ll have to drown out my sorrows! But, which one should I choose?

It seems the eternal beer conflict centered on determining which beer is the ultimate beverage rages on constantly on this side of the world as well. The only downside to this exciting discovery is that I cannot participate here yet as they have none of the beers I drink here. Also, when I do try to represent a Canadian beer at the table, I usually get ridiculed because our beers are named after people (John Labatt, John Molson, and Alexander Keith) whereas here, the beer name template is “adjective adjective”. For example, “Super Dry” or “Extra Dry”. I’m sure this only applies to a small minority of beers, but I have yet to stumble upon others! In any case, I can’t wait to stumble upon a “Super Duper Extra Ultra Uber Dry”! Hopefully, that beer will be in liquid form. Because they already have something here that tastes like solid alcohol... Vegemite.

For those of you unfamiliar with this, to say the least, original and unique product, it’s labelled as being a “concentrated yeast extract”, whatever that means... The first couple ingredients are: yeast extract, salt and malt extract. An excellent source of all types of vitamin B, it’s mainly used as a toast spread; kind of like our peanut butter! Sold at any respectable grocer near you! Now for what they don’t tell you – It tastes like an almost solid block of cooking wine to which you add additional salt, let sit for a while and then infuse with salty sea water. I’ve been told to “ease into it”... I will most likely follow that advice as I wish to be able to taste in the future... J (No but really, it’s not that bad... Okay, it's pretty bad).

These are only a few of the small things that have brought a smile to my face in the first couple days of my stay here. I’m sure there are more on the way. Why do we travel? I know one of my reasons is to realise and remind myself that there are many different ways to solve a problem (i.e. thirst with beer, vitamin B deficiencies with suicidal products, etc. ) and to go about things and that yours isn’t necessarily the best one, even if you’ve been doing it forever. I guess what I mean to say is:

Lesson learned: Think outside the box, be open to new ways of doing things or you’ll never learn anything.

Australianly yours,

Joël

P.S. Flies are the size of marbles! I’ve been using the 5 D’s here for sure! Dodge, Duck, Dip, Dive and Dodge. If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a fly!

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

On The Cusp Of An Adventure...

Writing to you from beautiful Brisbane, Australia.

I finally made it here all the while staying sane, which to me is my first major accomplishment on this trip. Twenty-four hours of flight time, and a thirty hour trip in total... It ended up taking thirty-one and a half hours; the reason being covered in due time. Ottawa - Vancouver - Sydney - Brisbane. Simple; on paper...

Ottawa - Vancouver was a breeze. By the time I got there, the sun was setting as I ate a crispy fish n' Chips in front of a bay window. I felt on top of the world, on the cusp of a memorable experience, nay an unforgettable one. I then went to my gate and played haki sack for 40 minutes, awaiting my departure to Sydney, and gearing up for my 16 hour flight. Bah! It can't be that bad. (Previous personal longest flight record: 5 hours)

Sydney flight. Hour 1. Great. The plane is freaking packed. No elbow room for me. Thank god for the aisle seat though. OOuh! An on-board entertainment center! Let's see what's on here! Awesome! Movies!

Sydney flight. Hour 5. After two movies, I've pretty much exhausted my possible entertainment sources from the entertainment system (that I would enjoy anyways). I ask the flight attendant how long we've been in the air... She replies... I cringe. Thank god I brought some books! PING! Please fasten your seat belts, we're going to go threw some turbulence. Okay... Never mind the reading... I think the last thing I want to be doing at this point is dizzying myself to a vomit. I'll listen to some music.

Sydney flight. Hour 7. Damn pacific. Thinks it's so big with it's 2 hour turbulence! I can finally get some reading done.

Sydney flight. Hour 7 + 15 mins. I have a headache and feel sick from reading. Done with that! I get up for the forth time since the beginning of the flight to stretch and go to the bathroom. Upon getting back I decide to try to get some shut eye. I spot on the map that we've just crossed the equator. "Hey! It's my first time in the south hemisphere." What a cool thought! Sleep time.

Sydney flight. Hour 9. I'm up! Still excited from my recent cross into the southern hemisphere, I ask a passing flight attendant how long we've been in the air. "I must have gotten a good 5-6 hours of sleep in!", I ponder. "9 hours, Sir" with the biggest flight attendant smile you've ever seen. Suffice to say I am no longer excited about my journey to the southern hemisphere. In fact, i'm beginning to think the southern hemisphere is a dick. I still have 7 hours on this metal tube! Why do we subject ourselves to this cruelty! I swear this stupid seat has gotten smaller and more uncomfortable since I was last awake! "Thank you! I reply, with the biggest smile I can muster up..."(which was basically a frown). I resign to watching repeat episodes of Two and A Half Men. It's not pretty.

Sydney flight. Hour 13. Why are you even going over there? What were you thinking!? They can keep their stinking Kangaroos! Get me off this thing. Okay, okay... Deep breaths. (Suffice to say that the next three hours were complete torment. I take my hat off to people who travel often.)

Arrival in Sydney. For the last 45 minutes I've been telling myself, "you're in Sydney soon! You'll get to see the city by the window as you land! Heck! You might even spot the opera house!" As the seatbelt sign turns on, I get excited! I'm going to see Sydney for the first time! All I see for now while glancing across my two row mates out the window is sea. The guy in the window seat closes the window... "No, no no... He's got to be kidding..." He's not. I despise the human kind.

"Please stay seated another 15 minutes when we arrive at the gate, as we have to spray the plane with herbicides." In the grand scheme of things, 15 minutes is nothing. This is fine news.... What am I saying... This is horrible news. As the lights turn on in the plane, I notice, looking into other people's eyes, that everyone else is in the same state of mind I am. Just to be precise, that's the "GET ME OFF THIS THING" state of mind. I scribble down the last of the plane models I rode on for Tom, and leave this tube for good! (OTT-Van: Airbus Industrie A321, Van-Syd: Boeing 777-200LR, Syd-Bri: Boeing 737-800)

As I set foot in the terminal, I can feel my saneness coming back slowly... This better have been worth it... (Note to Pat. I tried getting into the "this is shitty, let's see where it goes" State of mind... Did not work.) All I have left is an hour long flight to Brisbane and i'm there. Thank god, this flight flies by. I'm finally in Brisbane. Customs, baggage claim, etc. A breeze. Thank you baby Jesus.

I'm supposed to meet Kara, one of my roommates, who's picking me up! I was supposed to check on Facebook to see if she was there with my new ipod, but once passed baggage claim, there is no internet... I wish there would have been a sign somewhere! I break my 100$ bill and get some change to call her. 50 cents = 20 seconds of phone time. I'm not even exaggerating. She says she's right outside the door. Cool!

She is not right outside the door... I feel stupid. I call her once again from inside the terminal she gives me more detailed instructions(repeat this process 7 times!). 4$ and ninety minutes later, I feel like a complete idiot and I'm sure she figures her new roommate is a total jackass with no sense of direction. I could have taken a bus to the apartment and back by now. I go back inside to call her... In my head, I have no idea where I can go from here... I have literally walked every single inch of terrain where I won't get shot for trespassing. I'm on the verge of giving up. I feel like i'm wearing a "sweat-er". Get it? Ok... I was past an airport map. Double take. There are two terminals... One international and one domestic. *FACEPALM* I came from Sydney, she figured I was Canadian. Lack of communication. I call her with the news. I'm relieved to hear in her tone of voice that I might not be the complete idiot she had made me out to be in her mind, i'm sure. We meet up with no problems and have a fun filled drive to my new home for the next 6 months.

Everything starts to look up! Brisbane is a beautiful, small town feel, big city with palm trees and lots of greenery. All my roommates are hospitable and all seem happy to meet me (oh, btw, I definitely misunderstood as we are 6 roommates, 3 girls and 3 guys. I have workout buddies now! yay!). My room has been cleaned and set-up (unexpected and much appreciated! Thanks Kara!). This might not be so bad after all.

Sorry for the length of the post... I wanted you to get an idea of the length of the trip... I hope you'll follow me throughout my adventure. I wanted to give a positive spin on my blog, focus on the lessons learned, but it was hard to do that with this first entry... I promise to try harder next time!

Lesson learned : Get rich. That way, you can travel in first class where their seats turn into beds!

Australianly yours,

Joël

P.S. I'll try to post once a week! Stay tuned!