Australia

It is soooooooo nice to be in Australia, where I can settle in and be a normal human being. This morning I did a little yoga, walked to the store, harvested some tomatoes and peppers-- called capsicum (?!) here--from the great garden, and made some lunch. (Sorely missing the NYTimes Sunday puzzle, but that's okay, because the last time I had one it was really, really hard. Much harder than normal for someone of my great intellect. Obviously I am out of shape mentally as well as physically.) All of the Aussies that I have met (mostly related to Cate and John, or close friends of theirs) have been really great. But there are a few quirks to life Down Under.

I mentioned that I was at the beach last week. Going to the beach at home is a lovely, relaxing experience. Here it is a near-death experience in many, many ways. First of all there's the water. My ocean is welcoming (if a wee bit on the cold side), with gentle waves rolling in. This ocean pretty much wants to eat you. The waves pound into the shore and grab all the sand from under your feet, trying to take it-- and you-- back out with it. I'm somewhat wise in the ways of undertows and currents, so I was prepared for that. I was also not terribly surprised when, inching my way out into the hungry waters, the sand suddenly dropped away. (I figured there was a reason that huge waves were crashing only about ten feet from shore.) Okay, so now I'm in the water. No one has mentioned anything about jellyfish, so I'm not concerned about that. But the news the previous week was completely filled with the story of a 50 year old man who was 'taken' by a shark not too many kilometers north of where I was standing. Hmmm.... sharks. I don't see many big nets floating out between me and the ocean. But there were lots of other people between me and the vast expanse, and they look pretty tasty, so I think I'm safe. (But I'm keeping my feet on the sand-- as long as the waves don't suck it away.)

The second death threat that you need to overcome at the beach is skin cancer. I wrote earlier that all sunscreen here (NOT suntan lotion, thank you very much) is 30+. These people are serious about not tanning and not getting skin cancer. Having not used any sun screen for probably the first 14 years of my life (and then moving onto nice oil, SPF 4), I am a bit wary all of a sudden. I look at the various freckles and moles I have on my body and wonder if they've always been there, and if they have gotten any bigger since I've been hovering around the equator. (One day in Thailand I walked around without ANY sunscreen on. I'm definitely a goner now!) So it was with a sudden panic the other night that I did see a small brown spot on my arm that definitely had NOT been there before. It was pale brown, slightly raised, and a bit smaller than a lentil. Before running to the phonebook to find the number for a dermatologist, I thought I would see if perhaps it wasn't really part of me. No big surprise, it came right off. Chocolate, of course. (Not sure how I let any get past my mouth, but that is a different issue.)

The last part of the beach experience which makes it slightly less than a day at the beach would be the flies (which, alas, are not restricted to just at the beach). These lovely little creatures are apparently quite starved of water in this desert country, so seek to get it wherever they can. Unfortunately that means that they like to dive bomb my mouth, nose, and eyes. Ick, is all I have to say about that. Guess I'll have to bring out the DEET again, alas. (Speaking of which, the mozzies in this country, while unseen by me, are something fierce! I haven't had a mosquito bite which itched in about 15 years, but MAN, am I itchy now! I look like my poor British cousins who come over and get accused of having chicken pox because they are covered in red welts. Luckily my welts are located just on my feet... right underneath my sandal straps, of course. Can't wait to meet the sand flies in New Zealand.)

As to other Down Under oddities, I'm afraid I can't say anything about the water flushing down the toilet being different here, because I can't actually remember which way it goes at home. Guess I don't spend enough time staring into the toilet bowl. I can tell you, though, that I spent about a month south of the equator (in Kenya and now here) staring at the stars at night, trying to get my bearing. There's Orion, but he's upside down. There's that W thing that I don't know the name of. No sign of any dippers, big or little, and where the hell is the North Star? Yes, it took me a MONTH to figure out that there ISN'T a North Star because I am in the Southern Hemisphere.

Like I said, I'm out of shape mentally. Or it could just be the heat. The other day it was 42 C. I was asked by someone at home if it is a "dry heat". Who cares? It is flippin' HOT is what it is! (But yes, it is a dry heat. 42 C equals 107 F, but I could still breathe. Unlike home, I didn't feel I needed gills.)

I'll tell you about the language later. Now I need to go find a bogan boyfriend whom I can go hooning with. (Totally G rated, but illegal.....)