Krieger and Campbell, International Kangaroo Hunters Extraordinaire / 
It was a dark and hazy Friday as the two-person expedition left the warm, safe bosom of base camp. The witching hour (of 2:15 p.m.) was upon them, and Krieger and Campbell had one goal only as they struck out into the Australian bush: To shoot (with their camera, of course, don't be silly) the elusive and extremely rare native kangaroo beast (pronounced kane-gah-ru). The team traveled heroically on foot, following ancient hieroglyphic markings left by those who came before. Their eyes were peeled and their ears to the ground.
"Stop!" cried team trail blazer Campbell, pointing into the thick bush to their left. "Something's moving in there!" Krieger stopped in her tracks, quickly reaching into her holster and extracting the camera. "Is it ... Could it be ... A kangaroo?!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Hold up," replied Campbell, raising his hand into the air. "There it is!" The two peered between the trees to spot the creature in question: the also-rare, crafty, and coveted species felinius domesticata. Alas, the cat was too fast for the pair, racing off in a flash of black and white fur and escaping the relentless lens of team historian Krieger.
The two adventurers pushed on, pausing only long enough to document a strange, mysterious wood carving shaped perfectly for the rest of a human rear end; a lone, live red flower in a sea of white death; a mass of rusted fence wire discarded centuries ago by a freedom-seeking tribe of kangaroo conquerors. They carefully noted and inspected each pile of excrement along the way, hoping it would lead them to the sacred mammal's lair...
Okay, I give, it's too much effort to keep writing like that, so suffice it to say that right before we decided to turn back on our little hike yesterday, we did indeed see
a big ol' kangaroo, one of what we're told are many, MANY like animals hopping around in the nature reserves near our rental place. I really don't have much exciting goings on to report, kangaroos aside, as we've been spending our time doing more of the same (i.e.
biking, hiking, DVD-watching and trekking to the train station to
go into the city every third day.) We went on the recommended night tour of
Melbourne's old jail on Wednesday (highly theatrical, somewhat educational, somewhat entertaining), and we're knocking sights off the tourist list like museums and the
Royal Botanic Gardens and the
Victoria War Memorial.
Also, if you have a chance to talk to the U.S. Marshal, I'm dying to know what the he thought of
the six gossip mags that Heather sent me. Oh and, a package containing four DVDs of Howard Stern on Sirius satellite radio is also en route to Australia, thanks to another of the homeland's precious patron saints of pop culture. I mean, a girl has to keep up on crucial goings on even halfway around the world, doesn't she?
Today we're in the city researching our upcoming trip to Darwin and attending one of the international comedy festival shows. We're really loving our time at the house -- but, admittedly, we get a bit stir crazy from time to time, without any means of communication with the outside world like the Internet or a phone or a car. I think, happily, that we're both actually looking forward to magically re-compressing all our belongings into a backpack-sized space and hitting the proverbial road on May 10. Though we will miss seeing the conclusion of Big Brother 6.
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VIDEO: See Russell Crowe Dis Us! /Thanks to
Andy, we've moved on to an easier way to post video online. It's via a site called
YouTube, which is sort of like Flickr for video. Running a test from the internet cafe today, I was able to pretty easily upload a smaller, converted version (thanks Bryan) of a short bit from the Russell concert -- where he talks about Americans and traveling and kinda ranks on us. I mean, not "us" as in me and Bryan, but as in the patriotic "us."
Let me know if you can see it
here or below. (Note: Includes profanity. Of course.)
The tricky part is, I can't verify that it's working because there's a lag in posting, and I'm on the clock here, people.
Anyway, if this works we'll keep using YouTube. And old-school SBC Yahoo! headline style to indicate video. Maybe. Oh and I'll add their cool little Flickr-like web page badge.
What do you think?
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Russell Crowe Said Hi to Me /
Okay -- first of all, I hereby solemly swear that I am not trying to turn this blog into a chronicle of international celebrity stalking escapades. I realize there's been a bit of a rash of them lately, and ask your forgiveness. Certainly, once we leave Australia, our star radar will be switched off, quickly becoming useless in cities such as Saigon and Phnom Penh. But, until then, can you really blame me for taking advantage of $18 tickets to see a serious A-list actor perform a 90-minute set with painful sincerity three feet from the table at which I sat? You can't! Really. Please. You can't.
So how was it? It was so, so super-fun. The tickets themselves were quite literally 1/4 the price it would've cost us to see David Gray in a huge arena, and when Bryan scouted out
the tiny venue (while I got
my hair cut, at long last, downtown), he decided we'd go in for the full
dinner-plus-show package, still available two hours before Russell himself went on. Thus, we ended up securing a spot in the very first row right next to the stage, thus allowing for some excellent
photo ops. The opening act was something I've never seen before: A one-man band of sorts who used a foot-operated recording device to create his own back-up music, layering sound over sound to amazing results. He was funny and audience-interactive and I absolutely loved him. Bryan and I both had barramundi for dinner, which we'd been told we needed to try before leaving Australia. We ordered a fine bottle of New Zealand sauvignon blanc, and we made our late train home with time to spare. We also met a great Australian couple who invited us to dinner at their place next week. An A+ night if you ask me!
Oh but how
was it, you mean? Like Russell, and the singing? That -- that was okay. I was worried in the beginning, when his opening song included a line something like, "if Jesus asks me to I'd do it all again," but I have to admit that things improved from there. Like I said, sometimes I cringed a bit at
his passion and sincerity, and he isn't the world's greatest singer by far. On the bright side, there were a few (more upbeat) songs that I honestly enjoyed; Russell himself was personable and relaxed, telling stories to the small crowd, drinking a bottomless glass of port, and only making fun of Americans once. I also appreciate that he wasn't all uptight about cameras in the venue -- our bags weren't searched at all, and in fact, our tickets weren't even checked. You sorta need to love Australia.
Oh and yeah: Before the show, Bryan and I waited outside in the rain for the doors to open, giggling at the egregious misspelling on one of the
slap-dash posters stuck to the door. As I stood to the left of the entrance, pondering our chances of getting a photo with Mr. Crowe, I looked up and there he was in the flesh, approaching the door with one or two of his bandmates. We made eye contact, he said "hi," and then they walked on through to the sound check. It all happened so fast -- there was no time to pull out my camera and try for
a Bono, but that's okay. I think maybe he likes me.
So yes, I imagine that this installment completes the
Shania-
Ashlee-Russell overseas celebrity blog triumvirate. I can't promise that I won't report on any accidental run-ins or random reality TV stars spotted by Bryan, but I will pledge to try to make future entries more focused on culture and travel and adventure and all that good stuff.
I just thought you'd want to know.
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INTERNET CRISIS ** INTERNET CRISIS ** INTERNET CRISIS /
Foiled! Our fabulous plans for a full month of carefree e-mailing, blogging, flickring, messaging, researching, and Lost-episode-downloading have been foiled. Sigh. Despite Bryan's best efforts, the couple who own the home we're renting decided *not* to take advantage of a free, professional, secure wireless Internet installation while they're away. I guess I can understand (though they are back quite soon, and wanted to set up a network anyway!) but of course, I am crushed! And forced to use excessive punctuation! I'm not saying I would've sat online for hours on end every day (honest! I swear!), but we were really looking forward to using a home connection to communicate with everyone and to accomplish travel-related tasks
without the stress of by-the-minute fees. (Oh and also whomever we were picking up a faint connection from late last week found us out and secured their network. Party-poopers!)
Thus, this month's blog and flickr updates will only be done when we train into Melbourne for the day, perhaps two or three times a week. Such a shame to have to spend "city time" online when we have this huge, comfortable house in which to lounge on the laptop! Girls, I will miss our morning IM chats.
Anyway, I wanted to let you know what happened, in case you were concerned. In the meantime, instead, we've been watching a bunch of movies, doing yoga, cooking 18 meals in a row in the house, spotting
giant prehistoric bugs on our windowsill, going to
the mall, hiking, even
biking, reading, saving money, and today, we're
visiting the city. Not all that bad, I suppose.
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You're Invited! To an Australian Housewarming Party /******
Who: Allyson and Bryan
When: Anytime between now and May 10
Where: A tiny suburb outside Melbourne, Australia
Why: Because we're so happy to empty our backpacks!
******
After living out of a bag for 98 straight days, Bryan and I are jumping for joy at having arrived at our temporary home, in Westmeadows, Australia, for the next four weeks. We came across the house online (on
craigslist, of all websites!) and it fit just about everything we were hoping for: A nice place to spread out, relax, unpack, and from which to get to know a particular area of Australia. Amazingly, it's costing us about $42/night, or almost half of what we paid to stay at
the Y in downtown Sydney. Also, it has HDTV.
The owners are a couple also traveling around the world (in the opposite direction, of course), and our paths may just happen to cross in Vietnam. What are the odds?
A mini-tour:
There are three bedrooms upstairs and an open kitchen/dining/living area downstairs.Aussie are weird: The shower is just part of the bathroom, with a drain in the floor and no curtain or door to speak of.
Outside deck, with running path behind the house.
There are a few more photos
on flickr.
We're also looking forward to getting serious about our Mt. Kilimanjaro training (Bryan bought $20 running shoes at Target -- yes, that Target -- yesterday), using our free time to cook elaborate meals in the kitchen (not shared, for once, with 30 other ramen-loving backpackers), and rejoicing in the fact that
Survivor: Exile Island is on local TV two nights a week.
The only real downside is that the house is pretty far away from the U.S., which makes it unlikely that we'll get a good turnout for our housewarming party. I so very much wish we could have everyone over to play games and make use of the extra bedrooms and the fondue set we found in the cabinet above the oven...
Since Melbourne is pretty much shut down for the next three days for the celebration of Easter, we won't be exploring the city itself until Monday. Rather we'll be here, settling in, training, watching the five movies we rented from the local shop for $7 (doesn't that defy the laws of physics or something?), and indulging in wireless Internet access.
So stop by and
say hi!
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Australia, Ashlee Simpson and My Brilliant, Gifted Husband /
Some husbands are handy around the house, good at fixing things, perhaps knowledgeable about cars or plumbing. Some husbands are aspiring chefs, willing and able to whip up gourmet dinners after work or entertain weekend guests with their culinary creativity. My husband? He has a rare, wonderful, and simple skill that I'd never trade for anything: He's a super-human genius-level celebrity spotter. Whether it's mega-star Shania Twain hiding in a dark theater with a baseball hat pulled low, or micro-star reality TV contestant Jordis Unga walking down Melrose -- Bryan's sixth sense will activate, ensuring that the famous person is viewed, identified, and passed on to me for approach.
(I know I've written about this before in passing, but I really do think Bryan deserves a special nod for spotting a second celebrity only 2.25 months into our travels.)
It happened yesterday afternoon, in the middle of two days of Australian-style fun courtesy of
our recurring travel pals Clare and Andy, with whom we were lucky enough to meet up in our third country in a row. (Clare and Andy are staying here with a great Aussie couple named
James and Annie, who happen to be
wine merchants who invite people like us to their homes for massive feasts of grilled seafood, and then the next night,
quail and chorizo and
strawberry salad and
fancy ice cream desserts -- each served, of course, with an endless array of amazing reds and whites and followed by hours of
card-play.)
It was Sunday, and the six of us had just arrived in famous
Bondi Beach after attending an
Australian-rules football game in Sydney. We were outside on the
deck of a trendy little Italian restaurant,
watching the enormous waves crash on the beach and the beautiful, glamourous things come and go. Of course, if it weren't for Bryan, none of us would have noticed none other than the younger sister of one Ms. Jessica Simpson enter the place: She came and went so quickly we could only assume she'd stopped in merely to use the facilities. She had a large bodyguard,
a few female attendees, and a disappointingly nondescript
white van. She wore a sheer, beachy white dress and a
leopard-print scarf in her hair. She was small.
I will never know if, given the time, Ashlee would've bested Shania in the picture-taking category -- but we did warm to her after
Andy yelled over the railing, "I PREFER YOUR SISTER!" and she merely looked up, smiled and shrugged.
Bryan, thank you for bringing this wonderful talent into our lives. I know others appreciate it as well, and your modesty and willingness to share the fruits of your gift are commendable. I am hoping we haven't exceeded our international celebrity sighting quota quite yet, so you'll have time to shine once (or twice) again during our travels.
Thanks also to James and Annie, gracious weekend hosts and wine merchants extraordinaire, and Clare and Andy, fellow travelers and good luck harbingers. We'll see you (with or without Ashlee) at the next stop.
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24 Reasons We Loved New Zealand / 
On the eve of our departure, we decided to compile a list of our favorite things about New Zealand. To start, it's phenomenally easy to travel in -- unlike other countries (including our own), "tourist" is not a dirty word here, and the Kiwi people sincerely seem to want to make sure you're having an amazing time at every possible juncture. For example, NZ has this magical little concept called the i-Site: traveler centers in every town, small and large, that will impart valuable tourist information -- and will book all your accommodations and activities for free and with a smile. I'm not sure if this exists in other countries (certainly none I've traveled in), but I'm sure you can appreciate the convenience of *not* fumbling with a complicated foreign calling card in a sweaty phone booth, dialing hotel after hotel in search of a room. Here, you just pop into the neigborhood i-Site with a few names jotted down for as many future destinations as you please, and they do all the work for you. It's genius. Of course, the country itself is aesthetically gorgeous and there's so much to do -- in our four weeks, we only completed 11 of The Rough Guide's (excellent guide book, BTW) top 35 New Zealand sights. Oddly, the list did not include llama training.
Here are two dozen things that made our time here so special:
1. i-Sites, glorious i-Sites!
2. The design and architecture of Kiwi homes.
3. Latte bowls!
4. The diversity in landscape, from ocean to mountains to plains.
5. A wonderful week with Heather and Eugene.
6. The willingness of New Zealanders to put strangers up in their homes in exchange for a few hours of work each day, aka WWOOFing.
7. Monteith's beer!
8. It's large enough to sport international cuisine, but small enough to run into friends from home by surprise.
9. Penguins!
10. Clean, comfortable, and cheap hostels.
11. Selfishly, an improving US exchange rate.
12. The best sauvignon blanc on the planet.
13. Driving on the left side.
14. Helpfully marked, mapped, and difficulty-level-specified hikes in every town.
15. Handy electric water kettles everywhere. (Why don't we use these!?)
16. Dickie Roberts, Former Child Star, playing on the TV at exactly the right time.
17. Unique local artwork.
18. That the Kiwis speak English, but with a charming accent.
19. Hearing the s-word on plain old terrestrial radio.
20. SF-like weather.
21. The abundance of Campbells, Drakes, and even Preb(b)les.
22. Fun adventure activities.
23. High-speed internet access, on occasion.
24. Dirty Dancing, the musical!
Naturally, there are a few we won't miss, like local radio's preoccupation with Nickelback, paper-thin pillows, and nasty biting black flies on the west coast. We leave tomorrow morning for Sydney, where we're hoping to sublet an apartment for a month to hang our hats for a little bit. We're excited for the next phase of our travels. Goodbye, New Zealand! And thanks.
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Our First International Celebrity Sighting (or, Man, I Feel Like a Loser) /
That's right, my friends -- it's finally (already?) happened. This past Saturday night, Bryan and I took the opportunity of our one night in
tiny Arrowtown, New Zealand, to see a movie (our first of the trip!) in the unique, guide-book favorite
Dorothy Brown's Theater. It's a super-cool little place, with a funky bookstore and cafe attached to a small theater sporting huge, sofa-like seats. In addition to popcorn and soda, Dorothy Brown's also provides wine, beer, and a CHEESE PLATE that you can take inside during the movie. Pretty close to heaven.
Anyway! We arrived at Dorothy's half-hour prior to our 9:00 showing of Syriana. I waited for Bryan while he went to the bathroom, sipping my sauvignon blanc and hoping I'd be able to follow the film and appreciate George despite the weight gain. Bryan returned abruptly -- looking pale and harried and anxious to tell me something. "What's wrong?" I asked, fearing gastric distress or perhaps a precipitous spike in cheese prices.
"Um," he replied, looking at me with raised eyebrows, "I think we're about to see Syriana with Shania Twain."
So exciting! Our very first overseas sighting. We were aware of Shania's purchase of land in New Zealand, so this wasn't a huge surprise, though Arrowtown is miniscule and the theater even smaller, and we just happened to make this our first theater outing, etc.) I began having visions of discussing the social issues of Syriana with Shania, her then inviting me and Bryan back to her compound for drinks, eventually asking us to stay for a few days or as long as we like...
Needless to say, it was a bit difficult to focus on the terribly complicated movie while plotting to meet up with Shania after (and hopefully score a photo for my collection.) For the record, I chose not to accost her before the movie or even at the Dorothy Brown "intermission" -- trying to respect her privacy and right to enjoy a George Clooney film in peace. But of course, me being me, I had to make a move at some point. Also, mind you, the theater held maybe 20 people and not a single one of them appeared nearly as sharp as my star-spotting husband; so I wasn't anticipating any sort of papparazzi maelstrom.
So... After the movie ended, we saw Shania go to the bathroom. I slipped into the waiting area after her. When she came out, I made my classic, nicest, sweetest, celebrity approach. "Shania? Hi! I'm a big fan from the U.S. -- my husband and I noticed you during the movie. We were really excited to see you, and were wondering -- could we possibly bother you for a quick photo before you leave?" She was looking at me oddly, with maybe the notion of a smile on her face, maybe shy, perhaps a bit afraid of me. "I mean, we were just in Fiji, where they played your CD all day [true story], and our friends and I really loved listening to it!" Nothing. "I mean, it would be really cool if we could get a picture, but is that weird?" Shania finally spoke. "Um, it would be a little weird, yeah, but thanks. Sorry." And that was it. I watched her walk back out to the cafe and head for the stairs with her husband.
It's unusual that a celebrity proves impervious to my photo request plea. This leaves me to wonder. I've heard Shania is a lovely person, very nice and genuine and all -- so I only have to try to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she's awfully shy, or perhaps really upset by Syriana. I mean, there was no one around, and we're in Arrowtown, New Zealand, and a photo would've taken like 2 seconds. Clearly she hasn't seen my shot with Bono.
Since you want to know: Cute flare jeans and orange puffer vest, light khaki Timberland baseball hat, long, glossy, brown ponytail pulled through the loop. Not a lot of makeup, but some. Teeny-tiny.
I think Sydney could be our next big coup -- especially since Russell Crowe is playing (
with some non-rock band, I'm confused) all over Australia in April. However, I do insist that celebrities only reveal themselves to Bryan if they are ready for the photographic consequences. I just hate being disappointed like that. Oh, Shania!
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