The sun was full up by six this morning. My bedroom overlooks a park, and my alarm clock this morning consisted of magpies and kookaburras. Kookaburras sound like hyenas or chimpanzees when they get excited. So much for pretty birdsong.
Mom insisted that it would be sweltering and dry here, and it was, up until the day I arrived. It hasn't stopped raining for two days.
I went trail riding with Steve today - a get-to-know-your-stepfather activity. He's worked at Pfizer for 22 years in all kinds of jobs. Now he does a lot of plant management, but he wants to get back into production management.
I went trail riding with Steve today - a get-to-know-your-stepfather activity. He's worked at Pfizer for 22 years in all kinds of jobs. Now he does a lot of plant management, but he wants to get back into production management.
Funnily enough, I almost always end up trail riding in the rain, and today was no different, except it got adventurous. We were moseying along, and our trail leader suggested we pick up the pace. We agreed, and not two minutes into trotting, I feel the right stirrup strap give way, and overboard to the left I went, stirrup and strap coming with me.
But as they like to say here, "no worries." I was wearing a helmet, fortunately, so my only injury was a truly magnificent bruise on my left thigh. I did have to endure my horse's exasperated look, which seemed to say, "Now, what did you do that for?" Before I let myself think too much about it, I got up, brushed myself off, and got back on the horse again. I've heard that you're not a real rider until you've fallen from a horse at least seven times. This marks (pun intended) my third time. We resumed moseying, and got drenched.
But as they like to say here, "no worries." I was wearing a helmet, fortunately, so my only injury was a truly magnificent bruise on my left thigh. I did have to endure my horse's exasperated look, which seemed to say, "Now, what did you do that for?" Before I let myself think too much about it, I got up, brushed myself off, and got back on the horse again. I've heard that you're not a real rider until you've fallen from a horse at least seven times. This marks (pun intended) my third time. We resumed moseying, and got drenched.
What we call the countryside, the Australians call the bush. The ride out to the resort stables reminded me of Drogheda in The Thornbirds (that book was set in New Zealand, wasn't it?) Anyway, the trees are fascinating. The branches are very angled and edgy and twisted. Some tree bark is ultra smooth and looks like bleached bone. Other tree bark looks as though it has been mauled by a beast, with some of the bark hanging on by a thread. Still other tree trunks look like muscle. The bare trees are the most striking - the branches are held up as though beseeching the sky for water. Their version of a pine tree looks like a palm tree with a buzz cut.
We also visited The Entrance, a town whose claim to fame is being the pelican capital of the world (see requisite pelican photo to the right ). I got within about ten feet of them. Was it coincidence that I had watched Finding Nemo last night?
Trivia facts to impress your friends with at a cocktail party: the Aussie version of scones (pronounced "scons") is what we think of as biscuits; their version of biscuits is what we think of as cookies, excepting chocolate chip cookies, which are universally translated. Rather than after-dinner mints, you get after-dinner chocolate. Milk chocolate unfortunately. Chocolates are "chockkies," bologna is "Devon."
Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode: Sydney Harbour Bridge climb or Cate's Temporary Insanity.
