LLWorldTour

Once again, my fabulous friends back home have hooked me up with some locals…or at least ‘temporary locals’ here in Hong Kong. Marc & Jenny moved here just 6 months ago to run Marc’s family’s toy company, Jaru. It was nice to be in a non-tourist setting even if it was in a big office building. I hadn’t really met anyone here in Hong Kong yet, so it was nice to just relax and chat awhile. We went out for a big traditional Chinese Dim Sum lunch at the East China Seafood Restaurant in Tsim Saa Tsui East.

Dim Sum literally translates to “touch the heart.” But with all this food I think it hit a little lower—and is more like “fill the stomach.” Dim sum are mostly small appetizer-sized portions of various different dumplings and other tasty morsels steamed in bamboo baskets. It’s definitely a communal meal in which everyone gets to try. One of Marc’s Chinese co-workers came along and did all the ordering for us–so we knew it would be good. This was so much fun. In the middle of the table was a lazy susan where the waiters continued to make room for more and more savory dishes:

• Fried Rice
• Noodles with Shrimp
• Barbecued Pork
• Duck
• Chinese Green Leafy Veg
• Pork Buns
• Vegetables with Garlic and Beef
• and many more I can’t remember!

According to my Lonely Planet Guide, the people here consume more protein per capita than any other group in the world. It was really fun to find out how expats liked Hong Kong. There are apparently a ton of Americans and others foreigners here mostly living in the area called the Mid-levels (just at the top of that crazy outdoor escalator). Their kids even attend Jewish day schools. Oh, and just so you know…there are never fortune cookies given out at the end of the meal—that is strictly a Western invention.

After the high prices in Australia where it was hard to find a sandwich under $10 (I’m not including McD’s, which is everywhere—like a bad infection), I love Hong Kong. Although, many said it was expensive, I’m finding it very affordable and for many things down right cheap! Hungry? Besides the ubiquitous Chinese eateries, there’s a pastry shop on every corner serving up mini croissants filled with all kinds of good things like ham and cheese, or mushrooms, or tuna, or chocolate. Each one is about HK$3 the equivalent of thirty-five US cents. And the regular size ones are still under a dollar. So, you can get a breakfast or a snack for mere change.

The public transportation here is also extremely cheap. The efficient work horse, the Star Ferry, takes passengers across the harbor every ten minutes or so and only costs about 20 cents. Underground I frequently used the MTR—Hong Kong’s super clean and super fast mass transit subway system. Each ride here was about a dollar.

For dinner I recently had sushi. I ordered some salmon nigiri (on rice), Samna nigiri (a type of mackerel), yellowtail sashimi, and one soft shell crab roll. Each dish only had 2-3 pieces, but this was just perfect for me since I was dining alone. My tasty dinner came to just under $10. This town is totally affordable!

Of course to offset this savings, I decided to decompress one afternoon in the lobby bar of the strategically located Intercontinental Hotel with an Iced Mocha. The views of the harbor and Hong Kong Island are amazingly stunning from here and the staff was lovely. I even used the concierge for some info. It was nice to feel part of the ‘upper echelon’ of society for a change. But, of course, this came at a cost. My coffee cost me $8—just about as much as my entire dinner from the night before.

There are also tailors everywhere and their annoying aforementioned hawkers stationed on every corner just waiting to spring onto the fair eyed tourist (that’s me). But these prices are also amazing. I had unfortunately spent too much money on a new pair of jeans (the ONE pair I’d brought with me on the trip were getting slightly threadbare) in Australia. But they were too long for my short frame. So I brought them into one of the tailors here on Nathan Road inside the Mirador Mansion. The infamous Mirador and Chunking Mansions (have any of you see the flick Chungking Express? Much of it was shot in these concrete blocks) are a couple tremendous ramshackle concrete block buildings filled with random hostels, guest houses, restaurants, tailors, and other jumbled businesses. They are not attractive in any way, shape or form. From the outside, they look like old communist crumbling towers with window air conditioning units adorning every other window and peeling, chipping paint. On the inside, they are not much better. It felt a bit like a housing project. I took the creaky elevator up to the fifth floor where I was told someone had a strong enough sewing machine to hem jeans. When the slow, tiny elevator opened on the fifth floor I walked out into the cold dim corridor. Hmmm, where to go now? The halls are open to the outdoors on what is kind of an inner courtyard formed in the middle of the building. But instead of a nice garden or sitting area, this courtyard had some chain link fencing and big dumpsters where tenants were supposed to throw their trash. I walked in a circle around the perimeter of the fifth floor passing a few stray cats looking for fish scraps from today’s Chinese lunch and some random tailor workshops, but none that looked inviting enough to enter. Back at the elevator I asked a little old wrinkly Chinese man who stepped out of one of the workshops about hemming jeans. He sent me to the fourth floor. Instead of waiting for the world’s slowest elevator, I took the stairs down and found a mannequin outside of one tiny shop and she was adorned in a jean jacket with embroidery—this must be the place. A man was just arriving and unlocking the gate to the shop. I asked if he could shorten my jeans. We stepped inside his tiny, messy shop which was lit by a single fluorescent light and had some shelves with random fabric scraps and magazine pictures tacked to the walls with people smiling in suits and wedding gowns. I had turned up cuffs on my jeans because I’d already worn them once and he was going to just use that as a guide. But I wanted it done right so I asked if he had a changing room so we could just be sure of the length. Looking around I could see the answer was no. So he walked into the hall closing the metal door behind him and left me in this tiny shop to try on my jeans. Okay, I thought, ‘this isn’t too weird, I guess.’

With one leg in one pant leg and the other balancing on my sandals so as not to touch the grubby floor, he started to come back in.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” I exclaimed. I really didn’t need him to see my white American ass now did I?

When I was all zipped up, I called for him to come back in. He measured, pinned, and stepped back out into the hall. I changed back into my other pants and a new man appeared and scurried down the hall with my jeans. They would be done while I waited. I took the time to chat with George Kwok, the owner. He said this tailor business had made him rich (you’d never know looking around the place) because he was the “first to take tailoring” to other cities in China like Shenzhen and Shanghai. I’m not sure I understood him exactly or if he was really the “Chinese Father of Tailoring” since the Ming Dynasty, but he was nice. Two of his children lived in the US, one in San Diego and one in San Francisco.

It was interesting to think about how many things we buy in the US that have the “Made in China” label on them. After all the importing and random US price jacking—things aren’t cheap. But here in China (well, close to mainland China) at the source, things seemed to be priced much closer to their actual cost.

Just ten minutes later, the little man returned with my jeans all shortened and sewn. The tailor job only cost me roughly US $3.50, less than most Starbucks coffees. And they are perfect.

One of the many things I like about Hong Kong is its organized chaos. You need some herbal remedies or new fish for your home aquarium? There are specific themed streets around town that are a one-stop shop for many specific, if not odd, items.

On Hong Kong Island, I did a walking tour that brought me to a street lined with nothing but dried fish snacks. I know you are salivating now! For those in the know, these are a very popular treat for most Asians. In fact, I’d done a story on a sweets & fish snacks place (yes, they go together) called Aji Ichiban in Chicago’s Chinatown. Well, lo and behold I found the same chain store in one of the malls here. On the island’s Des Voeux street you can satisfy your hunger for dried mussels, flattened squid, oysters, scallops, abalone, sea slugs, fish bladders, starfish, shrimp, and many other kinds of seafood that have been dried and preserved. Just one block over on Ko Shing Street is the strip known for ancient herbal Chinese medicine. Anything that ails you can be fixed with some of these natural remedies and life preserving tonics. Based on the Asian concept of maintaining a healthy balance between the yin and yang forces in the body, the range of medicinal herbs is startling, including roots, twigs, bark, dried leaves, seeds, pods, flowers, grasses, insects (like discarded cicada shells), deer antlers, dried sea horses, dried fish bladders, snake gall bladders, and rhinoceros horns. The herbalist, after learning about your symptoms (most will not likely speak English) and checking your pulse, will prescribe an appropriate remedy, using perhaps a bit of bark here and a seed there, based on wisdom passed down over thousands of years. A typical prescription might include up to 20 ingredients, which are often boiled to produce a medicinal tea. Many shops around here also specialize in ginseng and bird’s nest, both valued for their aid in longevity, energy, and a fair complexion. The bird’s nests are used in soups and are A classic Chinese specialty made from the nest of an Asian bird similar to the swift. These birds attach their nests to cavern walls in Southeast Asia by using their gelatinous spit. Mmmm.

Back on the peninsula of Kowloon, I discovered some more pretty unique markets. First was the Yuen Po Street Bird garden set inside a tree lined courtyard. Hundreds of chirping and squawking birds (if one could translate, I would guess they are saying, “buy me, please buy me!) are crammed in cages here just waiting to be brought into someone’s loving home…or to be set free. The noise of birds all around me was deafening. I’d never seen (or heard) anything like this. Not only were birds for sale, but many bird owners, all men, come to the market toting their cage for a sort of social visit. They sat facing their bird in its cage perhaps trying to strengthen their bond. The Chinese apparently have a soft spot for pet songbirds—and no where is this more apparent then here. These bird owners hang their cages up by the trees so their chirpy pets can kind of socialize and sing with their “free” bird brothers in the braches. Some set their cage facing other cages as if to see which bird their pet may have a connection with so they could buy a companion. It is either very sweet or quite torturous—I’m not quite sure which. But at least it seems the Chinese really care for their fine feathered friends.

Just around the corner from the sounds of the Bird Garden is the amazing smell of the Flower Market. Shop after open-fronted shop here sells orchids, roses, and other wonderfully aromatic flowers, at prices so inexpensive I wished I could take some home. Hong Kong is definitely a city that tickles all of the senses.

My next stop was the Goldfish Market, also just a few blocks away. Lining Tung Choi Street are dozens of aquarium shops with bags o’ fish just waiting to be put into a hopefully somewhat larger wet living space.

Just a five minute walk south brought me to what is known as the “Ladies Market.” Stall after stall of watches, purses, accessories, and clothing from Chinese jackets to cheap T-shirts to even bras.

Lastly, I came upon the Temple Street night market. This market sells items similar to the Ladies Market and is open every night from 4pm to Midnight. Also did I mention the amazing prices at these markets? I bought a ‘Kalvin Clein’ watch for just three bucks! Who cares if it’s a fake? For $3, I can buy a backup!

Just days before I arrived in Hong Kong, the locals were celebrating the Chinese New Year. It is the most important holiday of the Chinese year and pretty, colorful decorations cover the city—from peach and plum blossoms symbolizing the return of spring and “immortality” to small orange fruited kumquat trees in doorways which bring “good fortune.” It’s a fun and colorful time to visit Hong Kong, but I’m guessing by the little I’ve seen here, really anytime of year you won’t be disappointed.

This very vibrant and dynamic city was just a collection of small fishing villages when it was claimed by the British in 1842 after the Opium War. Hong Kong was returned to the Chinese just 10 years ago in 1997 and is now what’s called a “Special Administrative Region” of the People’s Republic of China.

Today, this former fishing colony is a huge international metropolis with nearly 7 million people and growing. I’ve seen a lot of small children in tow too—it seems every couple has got one of those cute Asian ‘dolls.’ They’re adorable—I’ve always had a soft spot for Asian babies—sorry, not all babies, really just the Asian variety. Ninety-five percent of Hong Kongers (doubt that’s a word) are Ethnic Chinese. But there is also a large community of foreigners with Filipinos, Indonesians, and Americans being the largest immigrant groups. In fact, I managed to unexpectedly see literally thousands of these immigrants in person. On a Sunday, I decided to check out the area on Hong Kong Island known as Causeway Bay. Little did I know, this was the weekly day off and a sort of “reunion day” for masses of these islanders. I later learned that a large number of households here in Hong Kong employ an ‘amah’ or live-in maid and most of these are from the Philippines and Indonesia. They come here on a two-year renewable FDH (foreign domestic helper) work visa to escape the dust and poverty of their homelands and make more money than they ever would back home. Unfortunately, I’ve also read that life isn’t all ‘smiles’ for them as it’s reported as much as 25% of these foreign domestic helpers suffer physical and/or sexual abuse from their employers. They work six days a week and collectively get Sundays off. It is quite a sight to behold—thousands descend upon Hong Kong’s parks and squares with their picnic blankets, snacks and catch up on each others’ lives and stories. I wanted to walk around Victoria Park, but it just became virtually impossible. At first, I thought it was some special festival going on…but apparently this is just the normal weekly routine.

Hong Kong has long the site of confrontation between East and West. This dynamic coastal city now faces the challenges of a split Chinese identity. Expatriates have flocked here, to the “Wall Street of Asia,” where steely skyscrapers hover over ancient temples and a few remaining rickshaws. The city offers a full-on assault of sounds, sights, and smells. This manic energy is exactly what makes Hong Kong so special.

When I stood on the tip of Kowloon Peninsula and looked out across the harbor to the full expanse of the Hong Kong island skyline – I couldn’t help but think this has got to be one of the prettiest skylines I’ve ever seen…even competing with Manhattan and the Chicago skyline which still gets me every time I return home. While other great cities like Paris and London took 10 to 20 generations to build, and New York about 500 years, Hong Kong built almost everything in the time since today’s young investment bankers were born.

Kowloon’s main thoroughfare is Nathan Road. It’s full of noise, color, lights, and crowds. It’s a bit of a sensory overload and not the spot to come for peace and quiet. There are a myriad of shops and malls full of more shops. And, just as in Tokyo, it seems there is no shortage of shoppers. Asians follow trends like the flies in Australia flocked to my face. And here in the East, they are drawn to all things cute—from the latest Japanese animated heroes to cuddly little animal phone charms. Even the most buttoned-up businessman has a little hello kitty or other little friend hanging off his Nokia wireless.

Just a seven minute and thirty cent jaunt across Victoria Harbor is Hong Kong Island. This 78 square kilometer (30 square mile) island is the Financial Center and heart of Hong Kong. It’s here that this amazing fusion of past and present collides. I walked around this canyon of modern skyscapers trying to constantly peer upwards at architectural masterpieces like the iconic Bank of China Building. This tower rises like a glass finger pointing into the sky. Designed by I. M. Pei, this 70-story futuristic building, with its crisscross pattern reminiscent of bamboo, also observes the principles of feng shui (Chinese geomancy), as do all modern structures in Hong Kong in an effort to maintain harmony with their natural environment. (Otherwise, disaster would surely strike — something no builder in Hong Kong wants to risk.) Close by is the hard-to-miss, colorfully lit HSBC Tower. It’s said to be one of the most expensive buildings in the world (almost US$1 billion) and attracts visiting architects the world over for its innovative external structure, rather than a central core. It was constructed from prefabricated components manufactured all over the world; the glass, aluminum cladding, and flooring came from the United States. Internal walls are removable, allowing for office reconfiguration. The interior is mostly an atrium and some either love it or hate it. Can my fellow Chicagoans say “James R. Thompson Center?”

As I headed up the hillside, I caught a ride on the Mid-Levels escalator—at 800meters long, it is the world’s longest covered escalator. I got off in Soho. This is the second city of my trip to have a neighborhood named Soho. Here it denotes being south of Hollywood Avenue. But surprise, surprise, it is a hip and cosmopolitan area full of international eateries and bars. Because this area is all on the side of a steep hill, leave it to those crafty Chinese to build these smart “people movers” or escalators all along the side of this mountain. No one has to over exert themselves climbing up to the bars for an after work drink.

During my nine hour flight to Hong Kong on Qantas Airlines I started to feel excited again and actually just a bit nervous. The old buzz of travel was back. Looking back on my trip thus far, the first part in Central & South America was great and somewhat different, but I am quite confident in my Spanish so it never felt that “foreign” and at different times over there, I had two friends meet up with me so I was never really alone all that long. Then, I had been in Australia awhile and although I liked it, I think I yearned for something a bit more foreign. I could’ve been in any city, USA.

One of the things I love about traveling somewhere new and far is it can be so different and completely unknown. I feel I can learn and be exposed to so much. I almost always get a window seat on planes and love the excitement when we dip down through the clouds and I can see a new city from high above for the very first time. Unfortunately, it was foggy and getting dark when we flew in here, but I was still getting butterflies and had a renewed desire for adventure. Part of me was nervous too—you never know exactly how hard it might be to ‘figure things out’ and if you will just get a good overall feeling. But once I hit the airport, I went into my ‘independent traveler’ mode: figuring things out, finding the right bus to town, getting cash at an ATM, and navigating my way to the city. They say ‘two heads are better than one,’ but I’ve definitely noticed a big difference when I’m alone. I’m less distracted and don’t have to listen to anyone or discuss anything with anyone—I can just look around and find what I need to find and go where I need to go. I therefore seem to use more of my brain which makes me focus better and faster. Because of this, perhaps one head uses 50% of its power, whereas two heads together probably each only use 25% each because of the other ‘distractions.’ So, in essence—I think I’m just better alone. I guess I’m not really traveling alone because I brought my “better half” with me—my brain.

I’m already in love with Hong Kong. After a long nine hour flight from Sydney, I was tired to say the least. Although, I did watch four movies back to back (to back to back!) on the flight which certainly helped the time, er, “fly.” I’ve never really been able to sleep in cars or planes (the sitting up thing just doesn’t work for me) so having movies to watch is always a bonus.

I dropped off my bags and checked into the Sealand House a small eight room hotel on the cheap end for Hong Kong at just $38 a night. I have my own room and with my first private bath in a couple months. But once I got into my room, I could see why it was inexpensive—the room is literally the size of my master bathroom back home. The double bed just about takes up all the floor space except where the door swings into the room. But I am NOT complaining—it’s clean, bright, and although the smell reminds me of my grandmother’s closets (mothballs), I like it.

Even after a long day, I normally would just crash and start fresh in the morning. But after riding the double decker bus from the airport down bright and busy Nathan Road, I was excited to just take a little walk around my famous neighborhood—Tsim Sha Tsui (pronounced Jim Sa Jui) in Kowloon.

As I walked up the street amidst the masses, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. It was 9pm on a Wednesday night and all the stores were still open and people were out and about enjoying the mild night air—shopping, eating, and just general cruising. It was great. I liked this so much better than Sydney and Melbourne where all the stores literally shut their doors at 5pm every day. Here, the shops don’t close until 10:30pm every night, some are even open ‘til midnight. There are tons of sparkly jewelry stores, clothing stores, and literally every other store is a cosmetics & perfumery. I already got stopped by a couple guys trying to hawk their tailor’s custom made suits.

“We can make you a very nice suit. You like?” The hawker asked as he shoved a card of suit pictures in my face.

For some reason, I decided to only speak Spanish to them. This was a fun way to avoid the inevitable nuisance.

I love my new anonymity. It’s not like I was a celebrity in Australia, but for some reason, my American accent made me stand out in an odd way. Of course here, the way I look makes me stand out even more. But I could be from anywhere…just not Asia, well or Africa. Plus Hong Kong is a very worldly city. People are from everywhere, and thanks to the long time it was under British rule—English is everywhere. From my short little stroll I can see the city is clean, feels safe, and is so bright and lively…I can’t wait to see more.

My last stop on the ‘Aussie Tour’ was in Cairns, Queensland up in the northeast corner of the country. And there was only one reason I was there—the reef. The Great Barrier Reef has almost one fifth of the world’s reef area making it the largest coral reef in the world. Actually, the GBR is a chain of 2,900 separate reefs stretching some 1,200 miles along Australia’s east coast. To give you a perspective, the Great Barrier Reef is larger than the Great Wall of China and is the only living thing visible from space.Reefs form where temperatures don’t fall below 18 degrees Celsius (64 degrees Fahrenheit) for long periods, so are usually found between 30 degrees north and south of the equator. Most require very saline water; also the water must be very clear so light penetrates. Washed by the warm waters of the South-West Pacific Ocean, the world’s largest system of coral reefs has the perfect environment. The Great Barrier Reef is listed by the World Heritage Trust as a protected site and is therefore managed by the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park Authority to ensure that its beauty is maintained for many generations to come.

I booked a boat tour for a day to discover the reef myself. I chose Tusa Dive tours because there would only be about thirty folks on the boat…better than some of the larger trips where you are bumping into more snorkelers under the sea than fish.

It was the rainy season so there was some sediment churned up, but luckily at our spot on the reef, the visibility was pretty good. We did a morning dive and then after a tasty lunch buffet we went down for a second time. The sun was shining and the water was wonderfully warm at about 85 degrees Fahrenheit. I wasn’t going to use a wet suit as I hadn’t in the Galapagos. Then the guides started scaring me with talk of jellyfish and other ‘sea lice’ that sting and bite. I went bare on my first dive and did feel some sharp random stinging here and there and saw a scary looking jellyfish float by. This was enough to scare me into wearing a ‘shorty’ on my next dive. Much better. The sea life was pretty amazing—lots of colorful tropical fish, clown fish, clams, sea anemones, and even a sea cucumber.

Sadly, I didn’t see the coral colors I expected. Global warming is also affecting this precious and magical place. The concern: As global warming heats the ocean surface, the coral can get bleached-out more often, giving reefs less time to recover. Coral bleaching occurs when the animal organisms that make up the coral die, leaving behind a white limestone skeleton. The biggest way we can help prevent further destruction of coral reefs is to help curb global warming by educating people and making them aware that global warming exists and the consequences of it. Unfortunately, awareness isn’t enough. People have to do something. The governments of many nations have met and passed bills and mandates to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. These include the Berlin Mandate and Kyoto Protocol. The Kyoto Protocol is the first international agreement to fight global warming. It was signed by 141 nations, including all European and all other developed industrial nations…except the US and Australia.

The pact went into effect on February 16, 2005, and expires in 2012. The Kyoto Protocol has been celebrated by its backers as a lifeline to save our planet from disastrous human-caused effects of a warming global climate. It sets legally-binding targets for developed countries to reduce greenhouse emissions within 7 years, to about 5% below 1990 levels. To reach this goal, countries must put greenhouse emissions controls on its largest polluters, which are corporations and militaries. Productivity will only be maintained if the polluters seek cleaner, renewable alternative energies to replace fossil fuel (gas) energy. Solar, wind and geothermal energy are examples of renewable sources.

Vice President Al Gore was a main participant in putting the Kyoto Protocol together in 1997. President Bill Clinton signed the agreement in 1997, but the US Senate refused to ratify it, citing potential damage to the US economy required by compliance. The Senate also balked at the agreement because it excluded certain developing countries, including India and China, from having to comply with new emissions standards.

George Bush made campaign promises in 2000 to regulate carbon dioxide as a pollutant. However, in 2001, he pulled the US out of the Kyoto accords as one of the first acts of his presidency. Bush dismissed the Kyoto Protocol as too costly and lately, the White House has even questioned the validity of the science behind global warming, and claims that millions of jobs will be lost if the US joins in this world pact.

After six weeks, my short-lived career as a sandwich engineer and coffee chemist is over. For the most part I really enjoyed learning some new things–like the correct way to slice capsicum or dealing with a currency that has six coins–and meeting the real (and hungry) people of Melbourne.

At the Licata’s café, I had the unique honor of being the only American they had ever hired. But, coincidentally, about 9 out of 10 customers asked me if I was from Canada. This has been happening to me during my entire trip and isn’t surprising because of the fact that Canadians simply travel the world much more than Americans. And in turn, I’ve already met more Canadians than Americans in my few months on the road. When I answered this common asked question of ‘if I was Canadian’, most askers would always apologize because, apparently, when it’s the other way around most Canadians find it rather insulting to be called an American. Sadly, I can sometimes understand why. Of course, the few Americans I have met are very interesting and not an embarrassment at all to our country. But, of course, I haven’t met any Mississippians or West Virginians (there are about ten to fifteen other states I could throw in here) traveling the world just yet. Now, I certainly don’t mind being mistaken for a Canadian—I mean seriously, we do sound and look very much alike…well, unless you’re from the ‘country’ of Quebec, oui monsieur.

The best part of working at a café (besides the fun and free sandwiches or yummy salads for lunch everyday—I’m a lunch junkie!), was getting to know my co-workers and meeting all the different people and quirky characters that came in everyday. There was the ‘never-smiling’ Eastern European guy who ordered his lunch like it was always his last meal on earth. “Give me the Rye Cobb Loaf. No, not sliced! In a bag. Goodbye.”

Or Margaret who was a regular—she always ordered the same two sandwiches everyday, and wanted them exactly the same each time. “No, it’s tom-mah-to, then the cucumber and then capsicum, then pepper and just a dash of salt on top of the pepper.”

There was the Australian Football hottie whom all the counter girls drooled over as he ordered his ‘manly’ tuna sandwich on white bread. Just as I was finally remembering that John came in every day and ordered a ‘regular capp., two sugars’ or Greg, a tall, dark in the goth way, guy that lived around the corner wanted his latte with ‘one and a half sugars,’ it was time for me to leave.

But, I also was quite ready to leave because it was also at this time that the Italian owner, Charlie, was really starting to get on my nerves. It didn’t matter if he was an Italian with a ‘funny’ Australian accent—he was still Italian through and through and innocently ‘hit on’ me and all the café girls in his charming yet skeevy way. This fifty-year-old Sicilian also kept things interesting by being the biggest micromanager I’ve ever had in my entire working career.

“Is that a piece of lettuce in the to-mah-toes??”

“Someone just walked in this second—have you asked them what they want yet???”

“Did you ask this customer if he wanted salt and pepper on his take away sandwich??”

“It doesn’t matter that there are tons of customers waiting, you must write take away orders on this color paper.”

“You just scratched your ass wrong. Up and down, not left to right.” (okay, he really didn’t say that, nor did I scratch my ass at work, but you get the picture)!

He was unquestionably condescending to all his employees and even though they were all much younger than me, no one deserves to be talked to that way. You could have just finished serving a dozen customers, he would walk in from the kitchen and see dirty dishes on a table and remind you to always check the tables. Or you could be cleaning off the dirty tables when customers would walk in and he would come in and ask you why you aren’t behind the counter helping these starving customers. Believe me, the customer service here was great compared to anywhere else I went in Melbourne and no one here ever waiting longer than a minute to be served and were always told ‘hello, we’ll be right with you’ as soon as they walked in the door. In fact, I really appreciated this since one of my pet peeves today is some of the poor customer service out there where cashiers don’t even look up at you when they ring you up or never even utter ‘hello’ or ‘thank you’ (I’m distinctly thinking of Walgreens back in the states). But now being on the other end—the constant barrage of reminders could be maddening. He would tell us ad nauseum how to ‘build’ a sandwich or how to write up an order ticket (because he just didn’t read it correctly when it got to the kitchen) or how to freaking mop the damn floor. Now, don’t get me wrong, I totally respect the amount of work that goes into owning and operating a food establishment. I realize now how non-stop the work really is and learned it first hand (and foot)—especially since we were dealing with perishable and bug-attracting food—a restaurant is inherently susceptible to so many more problems or challenges than, say, a gift shop where at closing time you can literally switch off the lights and lock the door at 5:01pm. At closing time in the café, we knew we’d be around for at least another hour wrapping foods, cleaning out toasters and pizza warmers, cleaning and wrapping up each individual dish in the sandwich bar, and every cake tray, washing dishes, taking apart and cleaning the entire espresso machine, sweeping, cleaning tables, mopping, taking out the trash, tossing old breads, and pre-made sandwiches, and on and on.

But, besides all the hard work all the guys and gals who work there seem to put in, Charlie rarely would simply say ‘good job’ or ‘thanks for the hard work today’ or God forbid actually just notice something good someone did. He continued to find fault with everything and anything and this got me frustrated yet happy I was only working there for a few weeks. He wanted his people to be perfect, but he never got the schedule right (when I told him the two days I couldn’t work one week, those inevitably were the days he put me on and I had to remind him several times to change it. But when I asked for more hours my last two weeks, he actually took me off the schedule). In the end, after going back and forth with him several pointless times on this issue, I had had it. So being the “typical” independent, strong minded American woman that I am, I let him certainly know how I felt. He expected us to listen to him and be perfect, but I felt he wasn’t really listening to us. I mean I literally spent about $100 to change my next two flights in order to work there for a few more weeks. When I was first hired I felt very guilty that they were going to put in the time to train me and then I would leave in three weeks.

I didn’t care if I was just a casual visa-less worker, I still deserved just a sliver of respect. Luckily, it wasn’t just me who felt this way and after a run-in with the boss, I happened to bump into Mark, the thirty-two year old chef from Manchester, England who actually lasted less time than me there—he quit after just two weeks. We commiserated about the minutiae-meddling ways of Charlie. Mark recounted some of his frustrating yet hilarious times in the kitchen with Charlie telling him how he had it all wrong.

“Oh no, Mark. It’s lettuce, than chicken, then mayonnaise–that’s the correct order—not mayo, chicken, lettuce—that’s so wrong. My repeat customers want consistency.” I wasn’t the only bitter and sarcastic one.

Mark jokingly said, “Oh, yes, because I know some of their amazingly loyal customers bit into my Chicken burgers and in mid-mastication stopped and said, ‘something is wrong here. It just has the wrong mouth-feel. I must send this back. The lettuce is on top and it should be underneath. It’s just not right’” In laughing about Charlie’s crazy ways, I realized why he had such a high turnover rate.

But, then my last day came. Charlie and I had mended our fences and he and his wife Rose completely caught me off guard with a lovely ‘goodbye’ gift. I mean it was truly unexpected and unnecessary. I had only worked there for 6 weeks, after all. They had taken the time to write me a sweet card and gave me a tiny gift wrapped box. Maybe Charlie was going to propose to me? Luckily, no, it was a very cute pair of stud earrings.

All in all, it was a fun and educational experience that has me wondering if I really want to run my own café one day. But, at least for now, I know I can work in one. So when I return to the states, Starbucks, here I come!

After living in Melbourne (pronounced ‘Mel-bun’ by the locals) for a month and a half, I feel as if I’ve just about moved here. I’ve become quite familiar with this lovely city on the Yarra river and some of its finer offerings over the last few weeks. In so many ways Melbourne has been competing with its older brother, Sydney, since the 19^th Century. Just as in the U.S., Chicago will always be second banana to New York City, hence its oft-used nickname: The Second City. Here, it seems Melbourne could be called the same thing.

Currently, Melbourne has about 3.7 million inhabitants, but was once Australia’s largest city thanks to a gold rush in the mid 1800s. Sydney was first claimed for the British by Captain James Cook in 1770 (of course the Aborigines were here first—for, oh about 50,000 years) and, it’s no rumor, many of its first inhabitants were British convicts. This Island nation was first seen as a harsh and horrible place—and in many ways it still is very tough for folks to live here—case in point—the horrible drought they’ve been suffering for several years now. Unlike the U.S., Australia has NO water running through the middle of it. More than 168,000 convicts had been ‘shipped’ to Australia by the time the practice was abolished in the mid 1800s. Sydney now has a little over 4 million, mostly law-abiding people who get to admire the Opera House and stunning Harbour on a regular basis.

Melbourne hosted the first Olympic Games in the Southern Hemisphere in 1956 and became the country’s sporting capital. Of course, Sydney ‘one-upped’ Melbourne with the 2000 Games. Since the Australian people are very proud of their hometowns, you can imagine the on-going debate over which is a better city. Just through personal experience alone, I happen to prefer Melbourne. I am the first to admit this is all based on simple personal experiences and if I’d gotten a job in Sydney and had met more people there, I may feel the reverse.

It’s summertime in Melbourne and this city comes alive with moonlight movies in the park , outdoor concerts put on by the symphony, cricket matches, the Australian Open, and Melbournians just getting outdoors for the sake of getting outdoors.

I mentioned in an earlier entry how ethnically diverse this city is. Like most big cities, it’s a veritable melting pot of the world. And there is no day better to celebrate this than on Australia Day. Multiculturalism is the theme here and the live concert on Australia Day was a random mish-mash of local performers—Asian, Maori, Aboriginal, Spaniards, right down to the “robot man” known as—get this—the Sonic Manipulator, who literally is a well known street performer here. Sounds like the next Arnold Schwarzenegger flick—today the California Governator, tomorrow the Sonic Manipulator.

Just like everywhere else I’ve lived, the weather here is the butt of many jokes and is known for its changeable conditions. Here, they always say, “four seasons in one day.” One morning it can soar into the 100s and then later that afternoon it’s 60 degrees and rainy. This January’s 43.9ºC (111ºF) day broke a record and was Melbourne’s hottest since 1939. I think Maria Sharapova was sweating her pants off because she was playing that day (wouldn’t all the guys like to see that?)!

Melbourne’s famous tramway system is the largest outside of Europe and the fourth largest in the world. It stretches along 244 kilometers (152 miles) of track, and has 450 trams. A free city circle tour tram circles the central business district forming a ‘loop’ around it.

The mostly flat city has been named one of the best cycling cities in the world and is criss-crossed with hundreds of bike lanes and paths. Bike lanes here are marked in bright green and when I say bike lane—I really mean it—a solid line separates you from the cars and in some cases there are even traffic lights for bikes! They will soon be trying out some European style bike lanes (commonly used in Copenhagen) where the traffic lanes and bike lanes are separated by parked cars. I took advantage of this Chicago-like cycle friendly city by renting a bike for a few weeks and using it to tour around and as my main transport method to and from work. I also was lucky enough to score an excellent deal on the rental ($50 for 2 weeks instead of $25/day) thanks to the fact that all the Brunswick Street Cycle Shop guys and gals come in to the café where I work to get their lunches and coffees. Apparently TV jobs aren’t the only ones with perks!

Melbourne is often referred to as Australia’s garden city, and the state of Victoria is known as “the garden state” just like my home state of New Jersey. Melbourne is chock full of lush green spaces—The Botanic Gardens, Carlton Gardens, Fitzroy Gardens. These are all huge parks with towering trees and bricked curving paths where locals can laze the day away with a picnic of vegemite sandwiches or just play some fetch with their pooches. Sounds nice, but in actuality many are just hanging out smoking. Lots of smokers here. Cough.

Also, like many cities, there is a huge revitalization going on. The Docklands, Southgate and Crown Complexes are all new areas to eat, shop, and stroll around in what was once old industrial port and shipping yards. There is also some pretty amazing public art sprinkled throughout the city—in parks, on bridges, and on sidewalks.

One day I also swapped roles here and took a Melbourne Greeter Tour. I was a Chicago Greeter Volunteer back in Chicago for a couple years. Many cities in the world now offer this great service where a local will take around tourists for a few hours and show them their city from a real local’s perspective. On the tour we discovered one of the best and most defining characteristics of Melbourne–its “little laneways:” Degraves Lane, Hardware Lane, the Block Arcade, the Royal Arcade—these are all virtually glorified alleys that have been closed to traffic, filled with charming European-like cafes and outdoor table seating. They offer the illusion of being secret and hidden even though they are quite famous. Some are darker and narrower than others and some barely feel like much more than an alley except the fact that they lead to an inconspicuous bar—like the Croft institute that is literally at the end of a combo trash/urine-smelling, dingy, dumpster filled alley. What a challenge to get past that and know a cold drink is waiting for you at the end, even if it is in a beaker.

So, Melbourne will no doubt continue to struggle to come out from the shadow of big brother Sydney’s striking yet obvious beauty. But I like to think Melbourne’s beauty is just more ‘hidden’ and more than just skin deep. And, I think one of the reasons I like Melbourne so much is its ‘down to earth’ similarity to my adopted home and my ‘second city’…that I think is number one.

The Great Ocean Road is one of the most spectacular drives, view-wise, in Australia and is up there with the best in the world. It stretches for hundreds of kilometers along the southern edge of the state of Victoria’s rugged coastline. This curvy drive is reminiscent of the Pacific Coast Highway of California—except for one thing, here, your are driving on the left side of the road…so you may want to take care when gazing off into the ocean that you don’t ‘end up’ in the ocean. My friend Kay and I rented a car for two days and took to the open highway to experience it all for ourselves.

On one side we drove past the lush Otway Ranges and National Park filled with rainforests which contrasted much of the nation’s parched outback. We spotted wild koalas sleeping lazily up in the eucalyptus trees. They weren’t too hard to spot—just look for a big round ‘lifeless’ ball. I’m not being facetious when I call them lazy—these marsupials sleep around twenty hours a day. For the rest of their busy day, they will be munching on gum leaves, which are so toxic, the koala expends most of its body’s energy on detoxifying his lunch once it’s inside his system. They also don’t actually drink water, but get their hydration from these same leaves. This sloth-like ball of fur has an unusually small brain for its skull which is said to look like a pair of shriveled walnut halves leaving about 40% of the cranial cavity filled with fluid. It is the only animal on Earth with such a strangely reduced brain. Perhaps it is why they move so slow and seem so polite? They simply have “nothing” on their minds. The Koala needs large areas of healthy, connected forest and will travel long distances along tree corridors in search of new territory and mates. The ever-increasing human population on the coastal parts of the Australia continues to reduce these corridors due to increasing agricultural and residential the Koala here. development, forestry and road-building, marooning Koala colonies in decreasing areas of bush. Save the koala here.

On the other side of them Great Ocean Road was exactly what it was named for—the Ocean. The sight of stunning limestone cliffs, gorges, and arches carved out by crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean was awe-inspiring. The most famous and photographed of these scenic spots is the “Twelve Apostles.” These yellowish-orange rock stacks ominously sit tall in the ocean and were once part of the mainland, but thanks to natural erosion they are now each their own sea skyscraper. Only seven or eight of the twelve are actually visible from the viewing points and no one seems to know for sure if there ever really were twelve—maybe it just sounded good.

We figured once we got out of the city, the ‘funny’ driving would be quite easy since we would just be going straight for several hours and certainly tried avoiding making right turns. Driving is usually second nature to most, but not when you are, not only driving on the wrong side of the road, but also sitting on the wrong side of the car!

There were some definite things that just felt plain odd. For example, as I normally sit on the left side of the car to drive, many normal habits were backwards now and it took actual concentration just to look up and to the left into the rear-view mirror (I ended up using the side mirror a lot more than usual) and also reaching up and to the right to put on my safety belt. This one was funny because even though sitting on the right side of the car in the states means the seat belt is also behind you to the right, since I was driving, my instant reaction was to reach back and to the left where I ended up playing “air seatbelt.” Also, when in a quicker type situation like parallel parking, I tended to immediately reach down with my right hand to throw the car in reverse, but, alas, the gear shift was to my left.

The biggest, and funniest, difference of all was the fact that every time either of us went to make a turn we would instantly put on the windshield wipers by mistake because the lever for them was where our turn signal usually is! This was quite hilarious and I have to say that by the end of our journey—we had the cleanest windshield around.

The one constant in my life this year as I travel around the world is my big backpack. And like all other close companions, I’ve already established a love/hate relationship with it. It’s very hard to pack for one year. In fact, obviously, you really can’t technically pack for a year. I had to get it out of my head that I was packing for 365 days of travel. You really just have to pack for one week and remember there is a lot of laundry in my future and, of course, I can always buy something if I need it.

I’d only been on the road a few weeks and already sent one care package home of extra clothes that I just didn’t need and now, four months in, I’ve bought a few new shirts (re-wearing the same 6 over and over gets old real quick) and plan to give away some others and a pair of sandals in exchange. One thing you always have is a limit—there is just so much I can stuff into my backpack with out the seams starting to burst.

It’s nice to not have TOO many clothes, but I do miss having a bit more variety. But for the first time I really feel like I’m certainly getting the most out of my clothes and shoes.

Packing and unpacking my bag has become one of my new tasks in life. It’s not exactly fun, but I just need to remember it’s replacing things like working 8+ hour days, riding the train for an hour to and from work, vacuuming, unloading the dishwasher (okay, sorry, that’s a bad example since I was super lucky to even have a dishwasher in the first place), etc. The part that makes my obsessively neat side happy is the separate Ziploc-type air-releasing clothes bags I brought. Not only do they help to keep all my clothes compressed, my favorite part is how they keep my garments organized—pants in one bag, shirts in another, and the under-things in a third. This makes life a whole lot easier when you have to crash at one place for just one night. Love these.

My backpack is what they call a convertible. Oooh yeah, put the top down! No, it has wheels and an extendable handle so you can roll it, but also has a flap in back that unzips to reveal some straps and a waist belt so you can hoist it onto your back when necessary. So far, I’ve been wondering if I should’ve just bought the regulation huge backpack I see on nearly every traveler I meet. With mine it seemed more like I was strapping a huge suitcase to my back. Fortunately there have been only a few times I actually have had to wear “big red” like a backpack. Boarding a boat taxi in Costa Rica in knee deep water was one of them. Another was in Chile hobbling over a rocky road which became a rocky sidewalk which just turned into a grassy steep hill that led to my hostel with the great view, but the very sweat-inducing and nearly impossible access. Normally I have to actually sit down to strap my pack to my back. Here some old leathery Chilean woman had to help me hoist the forty pound monstrosity on to my tired disoriented body.

But, fortunately, I have already received the always welcomed approval from some fellow backpackers. A girl from Switzerland was admiring my pack in Costa Rica and loved how it opened like a suitcase instead of a rucksack like hers where she had to put everything in through the top and therefore had to dump out the contents anytime she needed to get at something and, inevitably, that ‘something’ was bound to be all the way at the bottom. Plus it is made by Victorinox—the famous Swiss Army Knife Company. It’s not exactly ‘razor-sharp,’ but the name brand also helped woo her Swiss praise.

The big red pack comes with a separate but attachable smaller day pack. This I use just as it says—on day trips to carry my camera, rain jacket and other possibly important daily necessities like ‘womanly items’ or my cool compass/flashlight/thermometer/magnifying glass tool. You never know when you will suddenly be lost in the dark and need to know the temperature and have to read some fine print!

Things I Brought that I Love:

• Packable Rain Jacket
• Laptop
• Camera
• Big hair clip
• Nylon shorts and pants with zip pockets
• Sleep Sack (only used it once so far, but it saved me from some pretty rank sheets)
• Micro Fiber Mini Towel
• Duct Tape (patched up holey screen to keep out pesky Costa Rican mosquitoes—but as most of you remember it did not help with the ant situation)
• Umbrella (this is, of course, already broken, but my next one will be just as cherished)
• Chapstick with SPF protection
• Hiking Boots & Walking Sandals

Things I don’t need:

• A full set of Encyclopedias
• My car
• My U.S. State Quarter Collection
• A beach ball
• A little, cuddly wallaby (oh, but I’d sure love to have one!)

See the “How LL” page for more details on what I brought and how a world tour is planned.

Sadly, since writing this, I lost my cool thermometer-slash-compass. Or it was stolen? I think the latter. I mean who wants a laptop when you can have a cool gizmo like that?