Sydney

Another breakfast sandwich and “flat white”. Then we were off to Circular Quay and to the Rock’s Walking Tour.

We hoped to find some great ethnic stall at the Chinese market- but instead found a Chinese Chelsea.

Sydney has vitality much like an American city. The CBD was packed with attractive Aussies going about their business day. The women were quite attractive and substantially endowed. The current style appeared to be the tank top with spaghetti straps, bra optional. We coined them “Tittie tops”.

They love their coffee as well. Coffee bars were everywhere. We decided to explore the area around our hotel and headed down Victoria Street- filled with restaurants and coffee bars. But, if you wanted a beer or a glass of wine, you had to order food. Still feeling a bit slow, we opted for an early dinner at Uno’s (bad schnitzel and Greek salad- but the beer and wine were good).

Sydney

It’s a strange feeling to lose a day of your life…crossing the international dateline and January 18th never happened. Of course, you do get it back on the way back. Even more strange is to travel 20 hours to find yourself in a place that looks so familiar. No unintelligible languages, strange clothing or dark skinned people. It was like arriving in Seattle- good looking blondes with signs for products we know, people speaking English- with a charming accent.

We arrived in Sydney at 6:00 am on Wednesday feeling no worse for the wear. Our bags arrived; we got our luggage cart and headed to the shuttle area. Everything was working well. We got into a crowded shuttle and started our Sydney adventure. We were, of course, the last drop-off. Most of the other tourists were staying in the center of the city. We were staying in the Kings Cross area- known for it’s’ prostitutes and gays. Our hotel, Hotel 59, was a basic place, but the bed was large and the bathroom was clean. We felt remarkably good so we dumped our bags and got a bit of breakfast at the hotel café. It became one of our favorite breakfast places- with small tables out on the sidewalk and great breakfast sandwiches. We did have to learn about ordering coffee in Australia. You have to order color (black or white), a ‘tall’ or ‘short’ (big or small) and then an angle (flat or not). We learned quickly that the best of the options was something called a “tall flat white”, although we never did figure out what the ‘flat’ part was all about.

After a “flat white” and a sandwich, we were off to explore Sydney. We managed to find our way to the Quay and the Sydney Explorer bus (a hop on –off bus) for an introduction to the city. We hopped off at The Rocks, the site of the first European settlement. It was historically a dangerous place- for convicts, prostitutes and street gangs. In the 1970’s, it was rediscovered and made into a historic tourist district- full of cobblestone lanes, colonial buildings and tourist shops. We found a quaint little pub with an outdoor café and stopped for our first Toohey’s, Sydney’s local beer.

With our handy guidebook, we set out to find a recommended Indian restaurant. On the way, we saw a sign for Korean food and we headed in for a wonderful dinner. We managed to get on a local bus to get us back to the hotel. The bus driving style was horrendous—heavy on the acceleration and slamming on the brakes. You definitely want to have a seat on these buses or you’ll find yourself sprawled in your neighbors lap. We made it back to the hotel at 7:00 pm and were asleep by 7:15.

Australia Map and Route

Off to OZ!

The dog was with Mom and E.D, the paperwork to put the house up for sale was signed and there were no impending worldwide disasters like bird flu on the news. We had our new dual band cell phone for any emergencies. We were ready to roll. After 3 years with no international travel, we were definitely ready for an adventure outside of the U.S.
Kenny Presley (Elvis’ cousin) from TGO picked us up for our trip to Orlando airport. We were leaving just before the TGO Board of Director elections so we had an interesting discussion with Kenny about all the recent nasty politicking. He agreed that it was amazing to see grown-us acting like the “mean girls”.

Check in was uneventful and we were soon heading off on the first leg of our journey- to LAX. We got into LAX with just enough time to buy a few magazines and a NY Times, get our Australian visa and get onto the next plane for our 14 hour flight to Sydney. United’s aging fleet was matched only by its’ aging flight attendants. Our spirits sank as a group of 50 Aussie teenagers boarded the plane yelling “Party in row 38” (we were in row 36). There was nothing to do but try to close our eyes and pretend we were somewhere else.

Election Night

It was a horrible night-- I was up and down all night, couldn't sleep, I was so wired about this election. Poor John, I kept getting up and sneaking into the kitchen to turn on the TV and check the results. I was channel surfing all the major networks to see the map of "red and blue" states. When they announced Florida as an official win for Bush, I went to bed in disgust. Then, to wake up and find the election still in contention. I held on to that thread of hope that Ohio would not fall into the Bush camp, but I guess, in this case, God was not on my side. To see your fellow countrymen looking at the same issues that you are- and making their voting decisions based on "moral issues" like gay marriage rather than on a mis-managed, wrong war in Iraq, an economy in turmoil and a whopping deficit.... I can't tell you how disheartening it is! John still talks about moving to Canada- but I've told him it's far too cold and too boring. John keeps telling me that I have to stop obsessing about all this and just realize that we're watching the death of our country. Oh well, 4 more years of that Bush smirk and his horrifying cadre of advisors. It's a sad day for the US...and for the world, I fear.

For our part, we're settling back into Florida...although our "re-entry" was less than smooth. Between my sleepless sand-flea nights and the general state of things in the house and yard, it's been less than fun. We got back on Friday and had to leave the motorhome at the local repair shop for the night (another slider was giving us problems). So, we took the essentials out (makeup, food, etc) and went to the house. The hurricane damage was pretty mild (considering that this place took the brunt of 3 storms). We lost one of our bottle-brush shrubs and another one is hanging on by a few stakes. One of the screens in the Florida room is torn. But, given what we saw in other parts of Florida, we were very lucky. Having said all that, all of the plants need pruning and fertilizing, the house needed cleaning and it was a bit depressing to be "grounded". So, we spent the weekend cleaning the house, making a "Wal-mart" run to stock up again and then, once we got the motorhome back, transferring all of our stuff and cleaning it. It's been most unpleasant - and we've decided that next time, we're going to contract to have the yard and house taken care of before we arrive home.

The park is filling back up with snow-birds, so we've met with a few of our neighbors and immediately got hit with all the local TGO politics (which didn't help John's mood very much). It turns out that while we were gone, the Board of Directors got together and banned all motorscooters over 50CCs. We can be grandfathered in on our scooter (if we fill out a package of forms- including getting the forms notarized and providing proof of purchase date, mileage, etc). But, we can't sell the scooter to anyone in the park. On top of all that, they've banned motorcycles completely. We used to be able to drive the Triumph from the storage unit on site to get out of the park. Now, they've banned all motorcycles from passing the guard post. This means that you have to trailer the motorcycle to the guard post. Needless to say,John was absolutely furious!! He's never been much of a fan of this place- but to have some biddlies telling him what he can and can't do at his age has got him angry beyond belief. On top of all that, our neighbor (across the street) has spent over $50,000 of his own money in a lawsuit against the park to get the motorcycle issue resolved. He's the one neighbor that John and I really like, and he's so frustrated that we think that he and his wife may move. So, we're talking about our options- and nothing is really obvious. I guess it's time to take out the big "T-Chart" and list all the +'s and -'s of our options. So, we're looking at 1) Doing nothing and holding our nose until we get tired of motorhoming (since this place really does work with the motorhoming lifestyle) (And then, probably moving back to the Northeast at some point-- at least we would be living in a "blue" state) or 2). Looking at a place in Louisiana - either property on a bayou or a place in New Orleans (which would give us a fun place to live in the months we're not on the road and lots of people to socialize with) or 3). Looking at property in Cocoa or Merritt Island (which is probably a bit too much money).

Sand, sea and sand fleas in Sanibel

Before heading back to Titusville, we stopped at Sanibel Island to visit some dear friends of John's, Rich and Lani . After selling their spectacular house in Half Moon Bay, California- they bought an equally gorgeous house on Sanibel Island (on the gulf coast of Florida). We had a great time.

The only bad news- they took us to lunch at this cute little restaurant called the Mucky Duck. Since our table wasn't ready, they told us we could wait on the tables by the beach. What they didn't tell us was that the beach was infested with sand fleas. I woke up that night scratching my legs to bits....and that morning, woke to huge red welts all over my legs. The sand fleas had a great lunch as well.... For nights, I couldn't sleep at all- the itching was so bad.

Cajuns, Angola Prison and Sugar Cane

We had a week to make it back to Louisiana for a Cajun family get-together (we're the token Yankees). We had hoped to take a leisurely drive south, stopping in Memphis to pay homage to Elvis and drive down Highway 61 and see the blues joints....but wouldn't you know it, on Monday, the slider started acting up (making huge bangs when it extended/retracted and the motor wouldn't stop running). So, we decided that we had to make a return trip to the factory (John now calls this thing the "motor-homing pigeon"). So from NYC to Indiana- we drove non-stop for 2 days....got to the factory, they squeezed us in on Wednesday and on Thursday morning, we were back on the road- driving 1000 miles to get to Louisiana. What a ball-breaker!

We arrived exhausted, but ready for a party with the Cajuns. It still amazes us how well the Cajuns live. The generations all party together and they have such a wonderful sense of family and fun. This was a chance to meet all of Brenda's brothers and sisters, their kids, and a whole mess of other friends and family.

Once we recovered from the "Paarty", we were heading to the Angola Prison rodeo -truly something not to be missed. Angola Prison was the subject of the movie, "Dead Man Walking" and was known in the past as the prototype southern prison farm. The inmate profile is unique-- 76% black, 68% lifers (51% in for homicide), average age 38. It's Louisiana's only maximum security prison- and the largest in the US. All the physically able inmates are required to work- for 2 to 20 cents per hour- most in the prison's farming operation. They have a beef herd of 1,500 cattle and a license tag plant, silk screen shop, metal fabrication shop and a mattress and broom/mop factory. In the American tradition of living a Godly life, they have what they all "Faith Based Rehabilitation" complete with "Bible College". In addition to the prison facilities, they have a Museum and golf course.

Every year in October, the inmates have a rodeo. Before the rodeo, you get a chance to walk through the booths- manned by prisoners and their families- with food (great jambalaya and other heart clogging southern dishes) and crafts. The most difficult part of the exhibit was the craft area- where the inmates, behind barbed wire, sold their crafts to the public. The crafts were simple- mostly woodwork- plaques with Spiderman, Mickey Mouse figures on them, etc. They would talk through the barbed wire to prospective buyers and negotiate their prices. Then, family members would take the money and package the item. I only made it through one row and had to leave. It was all so sad.
(Photo from newsday.com)

But, the rodeo--what a sight! The prisoners actually built the 10,000 seat arena. They start with the Angola Rough Riders- the only prisoner precision riding team in the U.S. During the week, these "cowboys" work on the farm handling the horses and livestock. The events included the typical bull ride ("The Bust Out"), "Bareback Riding" on a bucking bronco, "Bull Dogging"- where the inmates try to wrestle a 500 pound calf to the ground.. But, unlike a typical rodeo, this one had events like the Wild Cow Milking (where inmates try to hang onto a rope tied to an angry cow long enough for one of them to milk the cow. John's favorite was "Convict Poker" - four inmates sit at a table in the middle of the arena playing poker. A bull is released and, provoked by the clowns, attacks the table, The last man seated wins. The bulls went wild, throwing tables and inmates in the air. The grand finale was the "Guts and Glory"-- where they tie a poker chip between the horns of a huge, angry Brahma bull. The arena is filled with inmates (all in striped shirts). The object is to get close enough to snatch the chip from between its' horns. You have to be truly insane to even consider getting that close to an angry bull- but the chip is worth $500 to the inmate lucky enough to get it off without getting gored. For some amazing photos of this event, check out Rene Perez Photographs

The next day, another of our Cajun friends, Huey (the charming Cajun cowboy, who is the best dancer I have ever seen!) took us for a tour of his sugar plantation and then to the sugar mill where the raw sugar is processed. I got to ride in the combine as they were cutting the sugar cane (up close and personal with Huey's adorable young son).
Then it was off to the sugar mill. It was an amazing collection of huge machinery and since we were with Huey, one of the sugar farmers, we had full access to the entire factory...from cane delivery to the final product (and got to taste the raw sugar ready to be shipped for further processing). It was absolutely fascinating.

The rally was great fun. We danced our brains out (even though we had forgotten quite a few steps over the summer). We've got the Cajun waltz down - and can hold our own with the best of the Cajun dancers. The rest of the dances are still a bit rough....and John was quite a hit when he was dancing with Brenda to the tune of "Play that Funky Music White Boy". Since it was sweet potato harvesting time (sweet potato = American yam), they had a sweet potato baking contest and I was recruited as a judge. Little did I know that these women (and men) took the contest VERY seriously and I'm not sure I made any friends with the decision (fortunately, they had an outside home economist to lead the judging). It was amazing to see what they could do with sweet potatoes. My experience eating sweet potatoes has been the traditional sweet potato casserole we have in the north at Thanksgiving (mashed sweet potatoes baked and then covered with melted marshmallows). This contest had sweet potato tarts, sweet potato stuffing/dressing, sweet potato crunch and even a sweet potato cheese ball.