A few new friends and a whole lotta stories – Newcastle, New South Wales, Australia

“A few new friends and a whole lotta stories”
Newcastle, Australia (Uni)

I made the decision to study abroad in Australia long before I knew the opportunity would one day be available to me. I was a freshman in college, bored with homework, aimlessly skimming the web. I found some pictures of the Sydney skyline and while my daydreaming overran my work, wished I was there, rather then writing about the “Oedipus Complex.” At that point in my life, however, traveling seemed like something I would do when I was older, had more money, and even married. It was, as I previously stated, a daydream. It took two years to figure out how to turn that feeling into something I could use, but by my junior year in college, I was on a plane taking a semester away from the University of Iowa to study in Newcastle, Australia. While I knew Australia was going to be an adventure, nothing could have prepared me for extraordinary experience that awaited me in the next five months.

After a bumpy arrival into Sydney, my best friend Emily and I found ourselves deserted by our pre-scheduled ride taking us into Newcastle, two hours north of where we currently were. Both being inexperienced travelers, we underwent a minor breakdown, resulting in a calming ritual that we Americans seem to do best. We found the nearest McDonald’s, and ate. One value meal with fries, and one bionic bus later, Emily and I managed to safely arrive into the Newcastle campus.

Dorm Room Fun

No more then a few hours after our rocky entrance, we were unloading our over-packed suitcases into the Barahineban dorm room, searching for the next bus into town. We were unpacked, full of energy, and ready to do some shopping. However, with little understanding of the culture around us, (and no bus schedule) we found ourselves on a long, unexpected bus tour of the surrounding suburbs of Newcastle. Two hours and three broken grocery bags later, we stumbled back onto the campus grounds feeling completely defeated. Jet lag had begun to set in, and the distance away from home was settling heavy on our shoulders. Little did we know, the adventures in Australia had only just begun.

Most of our traveling attempts went something like the above adventure. Whether it was jumping on the wrong train, or riding the wrong ferry around the Sydney Harbor, Emily and I, along with our two Michigan-bred mates Amy and Lindsay, always managed to prolong the average travel time. It was, however, on these trips that we collected our most amusing memories, all of which were vigilantly logged in our very own “Journal of Quotes.” Musical Ferry, anyone?

Attending “Uni” offered a life much like that of any college town, with the exception of the three beautiful beaches, Nobby’s, Wedge, and Newcastle. Of course, then there was surfing, a fast-speaking foreign dialect, and according to us, driving on the wrong side of the road. All of which resulted in attending fewer classes, sitting closer to the professor in the classes I did attend, and paying much more attention to the road when driving our neighbor Andy’s “Sweet Fiori”; a two-door manual drive car.

Partying in Sydney at Jackson’s on George

When we weren’t singing Karaoke to Sweet Home Alabama at the Crown and Anchor, or tossing back Jaeger shots at Frostbite, you could usually find Amy, Lindsey, Emmy and I grilling out at the south end of the dorm, and/or sun-bathing in the yard of our dorm’s outdoor complex. (We continued this sun-bathing ritual despite much criticism from our Aussie neighbors who thought this was a strange thing to do). Other nights we spent our time waging water-wars on our fellow dorm-mates, and taking turns cooking American/Australian dinners in our rooms, savoring the familiar taste of a Diet Coke.

While our weekdays were anything but boring (grocery cart races down the terrace sidewalks is hardly your average game) it was our weekends outside the Uni that receive most of our attention. One of the most memorable of these had 10 of us camping on a prohibited beach in Port Macquarie, near the childhood home of our Aussie friend, Rod. Without a tent, and with nothing but boxed wine, an acoustic guitar, and of course, Emily’s matches, we found ourselves in an Australian heaven. It did, however, take a few days out of the rain, under a roof, and many healed “mozzy” bites later to realize this.

Another of these trips included a very miserable, but rewarding, 8-hour bus ride to Byron Bay where we (strangely enough) learned how to swing on trapeze bars, and surf during the day, and lick whip cream off of fellow tourists by night. Of course this was only possible in a bar with a name like “The Cheeky Monkey” and many, many pints of thick Australian beer later.

In front of the 12 Apostles

And lastly, but of course, hardly the least, was our trip to Melbourne. Amidst the beauty of the Great Ocean Road, and the awe-inspiring 12 Apostles, there are the “other” memories that only my unique traveling companions can really appreciate. (When I say unique, I really mean obnoxious). You see, as memorable as all of those landmarks are, it seems it was the moments in between the sightseeing that we recall the most. Things like, watching the sleeping Chinese guy almost knock himself out on the bus window every time we turned down a windy road, peeing in the rainforest, the phrase “Because I don’t want to,” Hotel BakPak with Jake, Lee and the Swedish guy, running away from Raymond’s brother at GP (or for those not familiar with the Melbourne bar scene, “Gin Palace”), and of course watching our first Bulldogs footy game.

No words will ever be able to fully describe the value of this specific visit, as it holds some other moments that are truly magical in my eyes, and I’m pretty sure the eyes of three other people in particular. You see this same Melbourne adventure includes a special section Amy and I like to call “The Rail Express: For Mature Audiences Only.” In this portion of the trip the same memories extend a bit farther in the scope of things. For example, that homely hostel in the Grampians has a name I’m sure many of its occupants forget once they’ve left. I’ll never forget Matilda’s though. That lil’ hostel ignited two great friendships that continued on from Melbourne, to New Zealand, and Fiji. Each trip we took with these new friends outdid the last, and I know I can speak for Amy when I say they definitely brought out the best in us. Room #436 in Hotel BakPak will forever suggest capricious “high-fives”, footy games, trips to the zoo, M.I.L.K, and many other (nameless) forms of reckless behavior that only the three other people I shared them with will ever truly appreciate. Even though it really puts a limit on being able to share these experiences with the rest of the world, it is these moments that I am grateful for.

Looking back on this inimitable experience, I found myself embraced by a culture that was both amazingly unfamiliar as well as strangely comfortable. Surrounded by the laid back Aussies, (said like a true American as “Ah-ssies’s”) and many other natives of the world, I learned quickly that no matter what country you were from, everyone was in Australia for the same reasons; to travel, meet like-minded people, and create irreplaceable memories to take home. For the four of us girls, I think it is safe to say that we started this trip out as mere travel companions. However, leaving Australia we had enough of a history to know we’d be friends long enough to outlast even the memory of some of these precious moments. There is no better souvenir in my bag then the 37 rolls of film documenting the experience (thank you Emmy, you crazy bitch), and my new friends. I thank God everyday for showing me that traveling, and even living in another country, is not something you dream about, but something you can actually do.