Lire l’original en français
Flash back to the summer of 2006. We are standing on the curb of the road on one of the coldest and windiest Scottish islands, a huge pack sack at the shoulder, and thumb in the air. We’re waiting. Steph is all smiles, because she is sending the request to the Universe for my first hitchhiking experience to be an unforgettable one. Well, she hits the bull’s-eye: a few minutes later, a 1972 convertible Triumph suddenly appears on the horizon. Leon, a wealthy New Zealander tourist stops and picks us up. Finding us friendly, he cancels his golf game and spends the day visiting the dramatic coast of the Isle of Skye with us.
Flash forward to our last week in Australia. As always, so it seems, we are sharing an excellent dinner at Julie and Martin’s. We talk about travels, and random meetings. We’re leaving for New Zealand in three days and suddenly, a flash goes through our minds. LEON! We should contact him and ask him to come have a beer with us during our stay there. Arriving late at Andy and Laurren’s, another random meeting that provided us with excellent friends, I turn on my computer and send a message into the night, not even knowing if I have a valid email address.
The next morning, two days from our departure, I receive an expeditious email from Leon. “I would have loved to see you again, but I am presently in Hong Kong. However, I have a cabin in the North of the island. You can use it as long as you want... A 4x4 vehicle is also waiting for you there. Oh, and don’t hesitate to use my boat if you feel like it. But, since it’s far from Auckland, I arranged for you to use my small car to drive around town. Have fun!”
So here we are, driving an Alfa Romeo, travelling up and down the sinuous roads of New Zealand countryside, picking up the trail of Leon. That car allowed us to reach isolated places, to get to a faraway vineyard and give them a hand, to learn how to pick mandarin oranges, to prune grape vines, where we met a local horticulturist who graciously brought us on a 6 h deep sea fishing trip, where I managed to catch an 8 lb Snapper. That same night, we ate the Snapper the horticulturist’s friendly mate cooked for us at their place. Transported by that small car, we visited affluent falls and found an abandoned gold mine, where glow worms and giant Weta reside. All that, in only 10 days. A chain of events starting more than 4 years ago allowed us to really enjoy a country where people are extremely friendly and the hills remind us every day of the hills of Scotland, where it all began.
See HER View
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
…On a jet plane
Lire la traduction française
So this is it, our last post in Australia. As I write this, we are leaving the country in exactly 24 hours. It’s pretty exciting. We’ve spent all afternoon yesterday trying to figure out what we should bring with us in New Zealand. As we will only be there for three months, combined with the fact that the nights’ temperature drops down to close to zero in winter, we figured out that it’s just not worth it to buy a car over there. Without Shocker’s kiwi equivalent, backpack weight management becomes a priority.
We haven’t gotten to the point where we start drilling holes in our toothbrush handles to shave a couple of grams off, but we did do something I was not expecting initially. A couple of months ago, we found this old paperback copy of The Lord of the Rings, all six books put into one plus annexes edition that we thought would be appropriate on our journey through the real life Middle Earth. It’s all very cool and all, but it’s also very big and heavy. NOTE TO LIBRARIANS READING THIS: you might want to skip to the next paragraph. In a last ditch attempt to resolve the weight issue and save our backs from utter destruction, we have taken the resolve to cut off the first book from its binding, having both read it already. I know, I know, it’s horrible, but we’re at the other end of the world and there’s nothing you can do about it.
One other thing that weighs a ton is our trusty laptop. During this leg of the trip, I had taken the resolution that my backpack would not in any way exceed 25lb. We always end up carrying way too many things and this time, I was adamant on not repeating that mistake. So it was only after much debate, even at some point considering not bringing extra batteries for my camera that I decided that it was just best to leave my workstation behind. What will that mean? Less frequent, more sporadic blog updates and videos that are more crude and rough or not present at all. To some it will be a dark and sad time, to others a sigh of relief to have us peppered throughout the next months instead of constantly badgering you with our news every week. But at least, you’ll all know that my back will be saved from early age scoliosis.
So with this I bid you farewell and we will send you news of a new and strange land, full of birds that are also people that are also fruit. A land of ice and cold awaits us, but I am sure we will find many safe havens in which opportunities to communicate with you will present themselves. Until then, be safe and ponder on where the bloody hell OLD Zealand might be…
See HER View
See His and Hers Pictures
So this is it, our last post in Australia. As I write this, we are leaving the country in exactly 24 hours. It’s pretty exciting. We’ve spent all afternoon yesterday trying to figure out what we should bring with us in New Zealand. As we will only be there for three months, combined with the fact that the nights’ temperature drops down to close to zero in winter, we figured out that it’s just not worth it to buy a car over there. Without Shocker’s kiwi equivalent, backpack weight management becomes a priority.
We haven’t gotten to the point where we start drilling holes in our toothbrush handles to shave a couple of grams off, but we did do something I was not expecting initially. A couple of months ago, we found this old paperback copy of The Lord of the Rings, all six books put into one plus annexes edition that we thought would be appropriate on our journey through the real life Middle Earth. It’s all very cool and all, but it’s also very big and heavy. NOTE TO LIBRARIANS READING THIS: you might want to skip to the next paragraph. In a last ditch attempt to resolve the weight issue and save our backs from utter destruction, we have taken the resolve to cut off the first book from its binding, having both read it already. I know, I know, it’s horrible, but we’re at the other end of the world and there’s nothing you can do about it.
One other thing that weighs a ton is our trusty laptop. During this leg of the trip, I had taken the resolution that my backpack would not in any way exceed 25lb. We always end up carrying way too many things and this time, I was adamant on not repeating that mistake. So it was only after much debate, even at some point considering not bringing extra batteries for my camera that I decided that it was just best to leave my workstation behind. What will that mean? Less frequent, more sporadic blog updates and videos that are more crude and rough or not present at all. To some it will be a dark and sad time, to others a sigh of relief to have us peppered throughout the next months instead of constantly badgering you with our news every week. But at least, you’ll all know that my back will be saved from early age scoliosis.
So with this I bid you farewell and we will send you news of a new and strange land, full of birds that are also people that are also fruit. A land of ice and cold awaits us, but I am sure we will find many safe havens in which opportunities to communicate with you will present themselves. Until then, be safe and ponder on where the bloody hell OLD Zealand might be…
See HER View
See His and Hers Pictures
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Winds of change
Lire l’original en français
So, a few days ago, we arrived in Sydney in order to sell Shocker. Our trip ends here. It’s with mixed emotions that we stroll down the streets of the metropolis for the last time. When we left Sydney, more than 7 months ago, it was at the wheel of a brand new car (for us), driving anxiously on the wrong side of the road (for us). So we come back to town, carried away by our mobile home (which doesn’t have any more secrets for us), with a driving ease we would never have thought possible back in November. Right side parallel parking doesn’t scare us anymore and downtown rush hour either (but we still hate toll bridges).
After seven months on the road and a 20,000 km journey, Sydney appears stuck in time. As if we had left only last week and the feeling is totally daunting. It’s like as if this familiarity had just erased our tour on Australian soil, as if we never lived all these adventures. Only when, with a bottle of wine, we talk about our expedition and show photos and videos, our souvenirs emerge from the fog. What a strange feeling.
But, here we are, having to admit we only have two weeks left on the continent. Initially, we thought we would have to spend all of that time trying to find a prospective buyer for our car, but since the sale was settled in less than two days, we finally have lots of time on our hands. This is an excellent thing. It allowed us to do all sorts of groovy things we missed the first time we were here. Among other things, replacing our diving bag, which was damaged on the inbound flight, courtesy of a billionaire adventurer, eating many excellent meals at ridiculous prices in Chinatown and visiting an operational replica of the HMS Endeavour, loyal ship of Captain Cook, my favourite historic character.
Since we were able to sell Shocker for a good $ 1,000 more than what we had paid for initially, we find ourselves with sufficient funds to continue our journey in New Zealand without too many worries. It’s really when we let go of the idea of settling that things started to fall into place. A voyage implies motion and going back to our nomadic lifestyle gave this adventure the air of freshness it needed. But, at the same time, all this freshness reminds us we must get better gear if we want to survive the maritime winter of our next destination. So it is with great excitement that, for the last few days, we have browsed outdoor equipment stores in order to find the best deals on Merino wool! If this is what sheep wear over there, it should be adequate for us too.
Oh, and if you didn't believe us last week, here is visual proof of our moment of glory.
See HER View
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Videos
So, a few days ago, we arrived in Sydney in order to sell Shocker. Our trip ends here. It’s with mixed emotions that we stroll down the streets of the metropolis for the last time. When we left Sydney, more than 7 months ago, it was at the wheel of a brand new car (for us), driving anxiously on the wrong side of the road (for us). So we come back to town, carried away by our mobile home (which doesn’t have any more secrets for us), with a driving ease we would never have thought possible back in November. Right side parallel parking doesn’t scare us anymore and downtown rush hour either (but we still hate toll bridges).
After seven months on the road and a 20,000 km journey, Sydney appears stuck in time. As if we had left only last week and the feeling is totally daunting. It’s like as if this familiarity had just erased our tour on Australian soil, as if we never lived all these adventures. Only when, with a bottle of wine, we talk about our expedition and show photos and videos, our souvenirs emerge from the fog. What a strange feeling.
But, here we are, having to admit we only have two weeks left on the continent. Initially, we thought we would have to spend all of that time trying to find a prospective buyer for our car, but since the sale was settled in less than two days, we finally have lots of time on our hands. This is an excellent thing. It allowed us to do all sorts of groovy things we missed the first time we were here. Among other things, replacing our diving bag, which was damaged on the inbound flight, courtesy of a billionaire adventurer, eating many excellent meals at ridiculous prices in Chinatown and visiting an operational replica of the HMS Endeavour, loyal ship of Captain Cook, my favourite historic character.
Since we were able to sell Shocker for a good $ 1,000 more than what we had paid for initially, we find ourselves with sufficient funds to continue our journey in New Zealand without too many worries. It’s really when we let go of the idea of settling that things started to fall into place. A voyage implies motion and going back to our nomadic lifestyle gave this adventure the air of freshness it needed. But, at the same time, all this freshness reminds us we must get better gear if we want to survive the maritime winter of our next destination. So it is with great excitement that, for the last few days, we have browsed outdoor equipment stores in order to find the best deals on Merino wool! If this is what sheep wear over there, it should be adequate for us too.
Oh, and if you didn't believe us last week, here is visual proof of our moment of glory.
See HER View
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Videos
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
My Fair Melbourne
Seriously, you guys MUST be getting very annoyed at us always talking about Melbourne. But it’s oh so cool! But I promise it’ll be the last time. We’re only spending one more week here and then it’s off to Sydney again to try to sell our car! I must admit that I’ll be a little sad to see Shocker go. I’ve never spent so much time with a car. Every time we see her parked on the side of the street, we get a sigh of relief and feel like we’re home. It’s only a car mate! Yeah, but it’s MY car.
But we must sell her now, and Sydney seems like the best place to do so, being the main port of entry of Australia. We officially have until the 24th of June to get rid of her. Because of Quebec’s national holiday you might presume? No! Because we have already booked tickets to go to New Zealand on that date! Enough of this Island/Country/Continent! It’s time to see new horizons. Actually, with all the mountains over there, we hope to not see ANY horizons at all. Winter is definitely not the best time of year to go there, but what are you gonna do? Such is our plight this year, to boldly go where all the cool things are, at all the wrong times to do so.
But before skipping town, we’re trying to get the most out of the city we’ve grown to love. Why, it’s not even been 3 days since we’ve got back and already Melbourne has provided us with the opportunity to fulfil a lifelong dream. We can say with pride that we can check “Beat a Guinness World Record” off of our to-do list. Last Saturday, we joined 1243 other superhero-clad citizens in Federation Square to be the biggest crowd in the world EVER, united in one spot disguised as their favourite alter-ego do-gooders. Ok, most of those present were aged between 5 and 8, but that doesn’t make this achievement less impressive. Take that London! We beat your feeble attempt to make history and outdid you by more than 150 mask-wearing souls. That being said, wearing tights in the last weeks of autumn in the city is NOT the best of ideas… While you wait for the short film documenting it all, read what the papers have to say about that faithful day. And once you’re done with that, you can also have a look at our BRAND NEW VIDEO about our Outback journey. We’ve heard you guys enjoy those.
See HER View
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Videos
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Uluru, Ayers Rock, the huge red rock over there
Lire l’original en français
After driving for more than 1500 km in the Outback, we finally arrived at the Rock. Three days of driving where the immensity can’t be described and even less be photographed. There are some places you simply have to go to in order to understand their vastness and immensity. Apart from the Great Canadian North and Siberia, I don’t believe there are many other places on the planet so deprived of human beings and their buildings, which they cherish so much. I can understand how this kind of place can seem far from inviting for many (one of the rare places where cellular connection can’t reach! Oh no!), but for us, it’s exactly what we were looking for in Oceania.
Driving for 1500 km in the desert, gives you lots of time to think. To ponder about where you are in the World, where you are in your life, where you fit on this wheel in perpetual motion. So we arrived at Uluru, our hearts filled with the Aboriginal Romance. The one where only native occupants of the Sacred Land can understand the delicate fibre binding every rock together, every bush with the repeated rhythm of Ancestral songs. We knew all about this culture and the importance of forbidding anyone to climb the sacred monument.
When we arrived at the National park, we saw a notice: Park Open; Climbing Open. Hum, are they talking about another mountain? Surely, they must forbid climbing the knoll to all park visitors? We continue towards the native interpretation centre. Over there, we meet two elders, well defrocked. One of them reminds us, slouched on his plastic chair, with a monotone voice and in a slurred speech, how important it is for his People that no one climbs Uluru. The giant snake, which created this place in the beginning of times, has forbidden it. When came time for his companion to enlighten us with her Aboriginal wisdom, she was nowhere to be found. “She’s gone walkabout!” says the park warden, a nervous smile on his face.
So we spent the day on a 10 km hike around the base of Ayers Rock. We can observe it from all angles, but at some places, we see notices forbidding photographs for cultural sensibility reasons. For example, two huge rocks where the magical snake of yesteryears left its eggs a million trillion years ago. I can understand the physical impact of 10,000 visitors walking on a sacred land, but here, it’s censorship, pure and simple.
Hiking for 10 km in the desert, gives you lots of time to think. To ponder about your principles, your own vision of the World. This first real contact with Aborigines was one of censorship and restrictions. But why? Good question, because they too don’t seem to know better than “It’s always been that way, so why change it?”
So I came back from hiking with the firm intention of climbing the Rock on the next day. I believe that mountains are there to be climbed. And if it’s done with respect, it just enhances the spiritual value of the site. Anyway, I seriously doubt that we’ll face the ancient Aboriginal spirits wrath.
We arrive the next morning, eager and ready to climb the Beast. The notice greats us at the front desk: Park Open; Climbing Closed due to high winds at the summit. Damned stubborn Aboriginal spirits…
See HER View
See His and Hers Pictures
After driving for more than 1500 km in the Outback, we finally arrived at the Rock. Three days of driving where the immensity can’t be described and even less be photographed. There are some places you simply have to go to in order to understand their vastness and immensity. Apart from the Great Canadian North and Siberia, I don’t believe there are many other places on the planet so deprived of human beings and their buildings, which they cherish so much. I can understand how this kind of place can seem far from inviting for many (one of the rare places where cellular connection can’t reach! Oh no!), but for us, it’s exactly what we were looking for in Oceania.
Driving for 1500 km in the desert, gives you lots of time to think. To ponder about where you are in the World, where you are in your life, where you fit on this wheel in perpetual motion. So we arrived at Uluru, our hearts filled with the Aboriginal Romance. The one where only native occupants of the Sacred Land can understand the delicate fibre binding every rock together, every bush with the repeated rhythm of Ancestral songs. We knew all about this culture and the importance of forbidding anyone to climb the sacred monument.
When we arrived at the National park, we saw a notice: Park Open; Climbing Open. Hum, are they talking about another mountain? Surely, they must forbid climbing the knoll to all park visitors? We continue towards the native interpretation centre. Over there, we meet two elders, well defrocked. One of them reminds us, slouched on his plastic chair, with a monotone voice and in a slurred speech, how important it is for his People that no one climbs Uluru. The giant snake, which created this place in the beginning of times, has forbidden it. When came time for his companion to enlighten us with her Aboriginal wisdom, she was nowhere to be found. “She’s gone walkabout!” says the park warden, a nervous smile on his face.
So we spent the day on a 10 km hike around the base of Ayers Rock. We can observe it from all angles, but at some places, we see notices forbidding photographs for cultural sensibility reasons. For example, two huge rocks where the magical snake of yesteryears left its eggs a million trillion years ago. I can understand the physical impact of 10,000 visitors walking on a sacred land, but here, it’s censorship, pure and simple.
Hiking for 10 km in the desert, gives you lots of time to think. To ponder about your principles, your own vision of the World. This first real contact with Aborigines was one of censorship and restrictions. But why? Good question, because they too don’t seem to know better than “It’s always been that way, so why change it?”
So I came back from hiking with the firm intention of climbing the Rock on the next day. I believe that mountains are there to be climbed. And if it’s done with respect, it just enhances the spiritual value of the site. Anyway, I seriously doubt that we’ll face the ancient Aboriginal spirits wrath.
We arrive the next morning, eager and ready to climb the Beast. The notice greats us at the front desk: Park Open; Climbing Closed due to high winds at the summit. Damned stubborn Aboriginal spirits…
See HER View
See His and Hers Pictures
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Communist!
Lire la traduction française
We live in a society that values material possession and individualism, forcing anyone wishing to build or repair anything to go out and purchase his very own hammer, screwdriver, reciprocating saw... I have often talked with friends about the need for a workshop Co-op. A place where there would be all the tools that anyone would ever need for any kind of projects, there to be used by anyone. Seriously, if you are not a fulltime handyman, how many times a month do you REALLY need to use that wood planer? Was it worth that 300$ price tag if you only use it once or twice a year?
I had to travel halfway around the world, but I have finally found what I have been searching for a LONG time. CERES, a landfill turned organic playground has one of those coop tool sheds for bicycles! If you’re only aiming on fixing brakes and gears, you can manage to get along with only a screw driver and a couple of Allen keys, but go anywhere deeper, and bikes are notorious for needing highly specialized tools that are used for only one specific part and nowhere else.
At CERES, they have recognized the need for such a workplace. You pay a ridiculously low yearly membership of 10$ and you get unlimited access to all the tools, as long as they remain onsite. Not only that, but you also gain access to a wealth of knowledge in the form of volunteers who are present at the workshop every weekend and are particularly keen on sharing their passion. To a point where the main rule over there is that volunteers will never fix anything. They will teach anyone willing how to do it themselves though. It is an incredible place to learn.
They also have a HUGE yard full of spare parts coming from bikes donated in various states of disarray. Need a new shifter? Just dive into that pile over there. Your wheel rim is bent beyond repair? Look up! The room is a giant dome made out of bike wheels! Just reach up and grab one! If you want, you can event start up from scratch and construct your very own bicycle for the ridiculous price of about 50$. You just need the patience to build it up yourself, but with such incredible help around, you’d be crazy to pass up the chance to learn how.
We are in dire need for more places like this, in all the fields of repairs. Every city should have a coop mechanic shop for car repair needs; every neighbourhood needs a local tool shed with 2 or 3 lawnmowers, hedge trimmers and ladders. If we centralized the equipment, we wouldn’t need to double, triple all those tools and we wouldn’t need to rely on overpaid specialists who charge you 100$ for an oil change, just because they have access to tools and you don’t. You would get more involved in the community, share knowledge and get more proactive when it comes to maintaining and repairing the few things you do own as a group.
See HER view
See His and Hers Videos
We live in a society that values material possession and individualism, forcing anyone wishing to build or repair anything to go out and purchase his very own hammer, screwdriver, reciprocating saw... I have often talked with friends about the need for a workshop Co-op. A place where there would be all the tools that anyone would ever need for any kind of projects, there to be used by anyone. Seriously, if you are not a fulltime handyman, how many times a month do you REALLY need to use that wood planer? Was it worth that 300$ price tag if you only use it once or twice a year?
I had to travel halfway around the world, but I have finally found what I have been searching for a LONG time. CERES, a landfill turned organic playground has one of those coop tool sheds for bicycles! If you’re only aiming on fixing brakes and gears, you can manage to get along with only a screw driver and a couple of Allen keys, but go anywhere deeper, and bikes are notorious for needing highly specialized tools that are used for only one specific part and nowhere else.
At CERES, they have recognized the need for such a workplace. You pay a ridiculously low yearly membership of 10$ and you get unlimited access to all the tools, as long as they remain onsite. Not only that, but you also gain access to a wealth of knowledge in the form of volunteers who are present at the workshop every weekend and are particularly keen on sharing their passion. To a point where the main rule over there is that volunteers will never fix anything. They will teach anyone willing how to do it themselves though. It is an incredible place to learn.
They also have a HUGE yard full of spare parts coming from bikes donated in various states of disarray. Need a new shifter? Just dive into that pile over there. Your wheel rim is bent beyond repair? Look up! The room is a giant dome made out of bike wheels! Just reach up and grab one! If you want, you can event start up from scratch and construct your very own bicycle for the ridiculous price of about 50$. You just need the patience to build it up yourself, but with such incredible help around, you’d be crazy to pass up the chance to learn how.
We are in dire need for more places like this, in all the fields of repairs. Every city should have a coop mechanic shop for car repair needs; every neighbourhood needs a local tool shed with 2 or 3 lawnmowers, hedge trimmers and ladders. If we centralized the equipment, we wouldn’t need to double, triple all those tools and we wouldn’t need to rely on overpaid specialists who charge you 100$ for an oil change, just because they have access to tools and you don’t. You would get more involved in the community, share knowledge and get more proactive when it comes to maintaining and repairing the few things you do own as a group.
See HER view
See His and Hers Videos
Monday, May 10, 2010
Legoland , Australia
Lire l’original en français
Melbourne, Melbourne, Melbourne… Such a harsh mistress. We maintain with this town the type of toxic relationship a pop starlet has with her obsessive fans. We want to see her, touch her, and spend most of our time with her but every letter sent, signed with a touch of perfume, stays unanswered. It’s one thing to be publically rejected, but it’s quite different to be totally ignored. There comes a time when even the most ardent fan must realize this relationship is going nowhere fast, no matter how many letters written with newspaper clippings he sends.
What I don’t understand, is that we are far from being incompetent, I would even go so far as saying we are downright resourceful … Just this week, I repaired three different doors, a necklace, an electric hedge cutter and a washing machine. Having more than one string to one's bow, one would think it easy to find a job. But we have been here for six weeks now, and no paying job has found its way to us. We even went to the length of retaining the services of a head hunter. A person whose first duty is to call potential employers, praising our achievements in exchange of 12 % of our future wages, if there is a positive outcome. The results? Zip, Nada. It seems the market is saturated with travellers looking for a job.
With no money, we can’t stay in a town where the average rent for a single room is around $ 200 per week. So we decided to leave Melbourne for new places, new horizons. But until we leave, we take in fully the generosity of a small friendly family to live properly in Melbourne.
Allow me to describe this family in a few words: Rob likes board games. Especially the ones in which he can crush you. He adores building all sorts of things and is especially fond of LEGO blocks, which can be found in every nook and cranny of the house. He also shapes his own Warhammer figurines with such craftsmanship, putting to shame the pathetic plaster figurines I made during my fifth year in high-school.
Colleen is a wonderful mom: she prepares fantastic organic meals, rides with her offspring on a quirky bike imported straight from Denmark and likes to support local merchants. She beams with attention for others, so much so, she gets up in the middle of the night to make sure pure strangers are Ok when they suddenly cough abnormally.
The kids are, well, kids. Calm for a minute, tornados the next. Rarely boring when they’re present. Lizzie would be a born mime, if only she could stop talking for a few seconds. Charlie is an adventurer confronting zombies one day and building blanket fortresses the next.
With 3.8 million inhabitants in Melbourne, the odds of finding a couple with which we would get along so well are astronomical. We feel so much at home with them. It’s really hard to believe: two weeks ago, we didn’t even know they existed.
See HER view
See His and Hers Videos
See His and Hers Photos
Melbourne, Melbourne, Melbourne… Such a harsh mistress. We maintain with this town the type of toxic relationship a pop starlet has with her obsessive fans. We want to see her, touch her, and spend most of our time with her but every letter sent, signed with a touch of perfume, stays unanswered. It’s one thing to be publically rejected, but it’s quite different to be totally ignored. There comes a time when even the most ardent fan must realize this relationship is going nowhere fast, no matter how many letters written with newspaper clippings he sends.
What I don’t understand, is that we are far from being incompetent, I would even go so far as saying we are downright resourceful … Just this week, I repaired three different doors, a necklace, an electric hedge cutter and a washing machine. Having more than one string to one's bow, one would think it easy to find a job. But we have been here for six weeks now, and no paying job has found its way to us. We even went to the length of retaining the services of a head hunter. A person whose first duty is to call potential employers, praising our achievements in exchange of 12 % of our future wages, if there is a positive outcome. The results? Zip, Nada. It seems the market is saturated with travellers looking for a job.
With no money, we can’t stay in a town where the average rent for a single room is around $ 200 per week. So we decided to leave Melbourne for new places, new horizons. But until we leave, we take in fully the generosity of a small friendly family to live properly in Melbourne.
Allow me to describe this family in a few words: Rob likes board games. Especially the ones in which he can crush you. He adores building all sorts of things and is especially fond of LEGO blocks, which can be found in every nook and cranny of the house. He also shapes his own Warhammer figurines with such craftsmanship, putting to shame the pathetic plaster figurines I made during my fifth year in high-school.
Colleen is a wonderful mom: she prepares fantastic organic meals, rides with her offspring on a quirky bike imported straight from Denmark and likes to support local merchants. She beams with attention for others, so much so, she gets up in the middle of the night to make sure pure strangers are Ok when they suddenly cough abnormally.
The kids are, well, kids. Calm for a minute, tornados the next. Rarely boring when they’re present. Lizzie would be a born mime, if only she could stop talking for a few seconds. Charlie is an adventurer confronting zombies one day and building blanket fortresses the next.
With 3.8 million inhabitants in Melbourne, the odds of finding a couple with which we would get along so well are astronomical. We feel so much at home with them. It’s really hard to believe: two weeks ago, we didn’t even know they existed.
See HER view
See His and Hers Videos
See His and Hers Photos
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