Australia - Day 5 - The Reef

12/29/16, "The Reef"

Green Island, Queensland, Australia (Great Barrier Reef World Heritage Area)

Well, that's all seven of them.  At long last, I have arrived at the Great Barrier Reef.  Last night, I recounted the journeys that brought me to the other six.  This entry will recount the journey that brought me to the Reef, along with my impressions of all Seven.  I am now sitting out on a secluded beach in Green Island National Park, writing this entry on my phone, since, for some reason, my laptop didn't charge overnight, and I drained the charge by charging my phone from it.

This is as good of a place to experience the Reef from the surface as any, and I will be experiencing it from the water later in the day.  The interesting thing about the Reef is that, locally, it is not all that impressive.  What is impressive is its scope.  Being the largest coral reef in the world certainly earns it its status, but to look at it at any one spot is entirely underwhelming.

Victoria Falls is the same.  The Falls are most impressive for their length rather than local impressions.  Mount Everest and the Grand Canyon also earn their status for their size, but each the size of both of those can be beheld at a glance, unlike the Falls and the Reef.  The Harbor of Rio de Janeiro and the Paricutin Volcano are Wonders for more cultural reasons than natural ones, the Harbor, though impressive as a natural feature, is more impressive because of how it serves as a maritime gateway to South America.  The Volcano is most impressive due to the fact that it was born in modern times.

The only Wonder that is singularly impressively for what it is, naturally, both locally and globally, is the Northern Lights.  It spans all around the world, and it truly is a wonder to behold at any one location.  It is not "just another" something like the other, it is entirely unique.  Each Wonder is special in its own right, and I am glad (and proud) to have visited all Seven.  I will need to cut this short, as I am draining my precious battery life, and it is starting to rain.

After I closed last night, I published everything and went to bed.  I woke up around 6 AM and got ready.  I walked to the terminal, where I got my ticket.  Breakfast was a bit of an adventure, but, to cut a long story short, I opted for smoked salmon Benedict and a flat white.  After breakfast, I went to the boat, and we were soon on our way, arriving at Green Island before long.  Half the island was a National Park, the other a resort.

I walked through the rainforest of the National Park, it raining intermittently, before I got to the end.  Once the rain stopped, I walked out the beach, lit up an H. Upmann, and took my ceremonial picture.  That was that, all Seven.  I posted my collage and then sat down on the beach, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can start heading back to the boat.

Cairns, Queensland, Australia

Today should have been one of the best Days of the trip.  Instead, due to a bunch of bad decisions (at least five that I can count) and some unfortunate weather, it was completely devoid of enjoyment and instead purely one of fulfillment.  However, being able to say that I have seen all Seven Natural Wonders of the World is very fulfilling, and I can take some comfort in the fact that, even if I could replay the day and not make the bad decisions I did, the rain and heat would probably have precluded the enjoyment anyway.  It started when I got off the boat at Green Island and walked out into the rain.  It literally dampened my spirits, and everything was downhill from there, never being able to get my spirits back up.

It all started with breakfast, actually, and I chose wrong for breakfast, getting an overpriced smoked salmon Benedict at the hotel on the waterfront, instead of getting the full buffet, which did not include smoked salmon.  I chose this because it was my first Official meal in Queensland, and I did not feel breakfast food would otherwise be considered appropriate, as bacon and eggs have nothing to do with Queensland cuisine, while fish does.  If I had gone with the pork-based options for breakfast, bad decision number five of the day would not have happened, either, most likely, but I will get to that later.

Anyway, the rain stopped not long after I reached the end of the island, and I was ready to go.  It was time to take my ceremonial picture and post my epic collage of all Seven Natural Wonders of the World.  However, I messed up the post and had to delete it and repost it.  When you repost something on social media so soon after your first post, it reduces visibility, and only a handful of people saw it.  I had worked so hard on that post, not just on visiting the other six Wonders, but on assembling the pictures, on editing the lighting and shading, and on making the collage.  However, due to some rookie mistakes in posting, almost no one saw it.  That was bad decision number two, and it was later exasperated by a similar post that I never should have posted, but I will get to that later.

Okay, two bad decisions before I wrote my first entry, but I was ready to recover.  I sat on the beach to write my entry.  This would be a grand celebratory entry, but it was not to be.  I saw the low battery notification on my laptop and panicked and turned off the laptop to write on my phone.  Well, I would later learn that the low battery notification was left over from last night and that my laptop, in fact, had a full charge.  I had no other means to charge my phone, so, not only could I not write my entry in my usual way, but I also had to cut the entry I wrote on my phone shirt because battery life.  I was severely worried at this point about not having enough battery life for the rest of the adventure.  If I had just spent a few seconds looking at the notification on my laptop, I would have seen it had a full charge, and I would have written my entry on the beach with my laptop, and the other two bad decisions and adverse weather would have been forgotten.  Instead, I made bad decision number three.  That was where I closed at the beach.

After I closed, I took my ceremonial picture to claim the Great Barrier Reef as a World Heritage Site, with the same cigar, my water bottle, and a printout.  I posted that photo, almost immediately regretting it, as I realized that I would have gotten a far better picture to post when I went snorkeling.  I deleted it, but it further reduced the visibility of my collage.  I am still counting this as part of bad decision number two.  I then headed back towards the pier, stopping for souvenirs (and getting some good stuff!), but my main goal was to find an adapter for my phone cord, since, I believed, I had no other way of charging my phone.  I could not find one, but I did get a case to use my phone underwater.

When I got towards the pier, I had some extra time, and I tried draining whatever charge remained on my laptop to my phone.  It kept charging and charging.  That was when I started to realize what was happening, though I would not confirm my theory until I got back to the hotel.  I guessed correctly that the notification was left over from last night, as there was no way I could have gotten such a charge onto my phone from 6% battery life on my laptop.

It was now approaching midday, and it was hot as hell.  My reader will recall that we are not even 17 degrees below the equator.  The heat was all-encompassing and overwhelming.  There was no mistake, and I do not do well in the heat.  It completely drains whatever faculties I may have for enjoyment.  It is no coincidence that all my top trips took place in either cool or temperate climates.  I would say that each of my Top Ten trips had an average temperature during the trip of no more than 70 degrees, other than, surprisingly, numbers one and two.

Rio 2016 was during their winter, though, so the temperature was comfortable.  Also, the pictures I posted in last night’s entry attest, I was far better equipped to handle the heat during my Grand Canyon trip than during this, though, even as a skinny twig, I always hated the heat.  Dare I even say, “The cold never bothered me, anyway”?  Antarctica and Because It’s There were cool or cold the whole trip, and all my summer trips to Europe were very temperate, as was Israel in the winter.

I was practically a zombie by the time we reached the pontoon near Norman Reef.  I had secured a wetsuit rental for the snorkeling, and the guy tried to give me an L.  I knew that would not fit me.  He gave me an XL, and I was still skeptical.  I went to change into my bathing suit and put the wetsuit over, but it would not close.  I swapped it out for an XXL, and that worked.  I left all my stuff on the boat, other than my phone in its protective case, and went to get my snorkeling gear.

I seem to have forgotten how to snorkel of late, and I had the same problem I had at the Belize Barrier Reef.  After about a minute, I would no longer be able to breathe, become short of breath, and have to come up for air, the process ruining my mask setup and necessitating a return to the pontoon.  This happened three times.  At this point, I just cared about getting some pictures and returning to the pontoon.  I got a great selfie underwater, but I didn’t get any good pictures of the reef.

This brings me to bad decision number four.  They had these easy scuba contraptions, where you have this new age suit that looks more like a spacesuit than anything else, and you can walk on the ocean floor and get right up to the reef.  If I had done that, I could have gotten great selfies and great pictures of the reef.  I knew that that option was available, but, so drained by the snorkeling experience, I had no interest.  If I had just done that first, all the bad decisions of earlier would have been forgotten, and it would have been a great memory.

Instead, I retrieved my stuff from the boat and went up to the smoking deck.  Still wearing my wetsuit and snorkeling gear, I lit up a Partagas and took my ceremonial picture, with my water bottle and printout to properly claim the Great Barrier Reef WHS this time.  I posted that to Facebook, and, from the reception I got, I realized that this was certainly much better than the one at the reef, but, getting such a good reception, which I had wanted to be directed at the collage, only made me more frustrated.

After my cigar, I went down for lunch, getting just some fruit and cold cuts.  After lunch, I went back up to the smoking deck to have an Ardor, the last one I had brought for this trip.  We were soon departing back for the mainland, and I was so spent at this point that I just wanted to collapse, but the heat was unescapable.  Around 5:30 PM, we arrived back at Cairns, and I went to my hotel, stopping for souvenirs on the way.  I figured that I needed to leave the hotel at 7:30 PM for dinner, so I took a nap.

This is where bad decision number five comes in to play.  I had chosen one of the best rated restaurants on Tripadvisor, a steakhouse.  Queensland is not known for their steak, though, but I had already had fish for breakfast.  This is why it was such a bad decision.  I should have had the breakfast buffet with pork-based meats and then gotten fish for dinner tonight.  There were so many great places to get fish here.  Actually, I meant to write about the Esplanade, which is the most touristy place I have seen all trip.  It has a wide selection of international restaurants: Chinese, Turkish, Indian, German, Greek, Italian, and more.  These are all countries I have visited and eaten the local cuisine during those visits.  I was here to eat Australian food.  That was why I chose the restaurant I chose.

When I woke up from my nap, it was dark out, though I had fallen asleep right at sunset.  I had no idea what time it was.  My watch said it was slightly after 8 PM, so slightly behind schedule.  I headed out and got to my restaurant.  There was a long wait for a table, and I had a dark and stormy while I waited, which was somehow disappointing.  I love that drink, but I avoid it due to the sugar.  This was not worth the sugar, not at all.

When they finally did seat me, I knew I would want red wine and a steak for the main course, but I was unclear on my appetizer choice.  The waiter recommended the bruschetta, which sounded good as described on the menu.  It soon came, and I was disappointed, almost to the point of being angry.  This wasn’t bruschetta.  This was a sea of lettuce with some other ingredients hidden beneath it.  For the price point, it was outrageous, and it wasn’t even that good.  I deconstructed each of the four pieces, putting the lettuce to the side, fishing out the cheese from the sea of lettuce to put back on the toast, and eating the meat, cheese, and mushrooms with one bite for each piece, leaving half of each piece of bread, along with the vast majority of the sea of lettuce.  The waiter asked me how it was when I was done, and I told him that it wasn’t what I expected, that it was almost all lettuce, pointing to the sea that was left over.  He shrugged and walked away with the plate.  Seriously?!?  Why the fuck did he ask me, then, if he was going to ignore my complaint???

I almost walked out at that point, but I wanted the steak.  It soon came, along with chips and, of course, more lettuce.  I figured, if the steak was good, all would be forgiven.  The chips were soggy, so that was a bad sign, and someone came by to ask me how the steak was even before my first bite.  I said that I didn’t know yet.  No one ever came back to ask me again.  If it was, I would have told them the truth.  It, too, was disappointing, but I blamed myself for going to a steakhouse in Queensland.  There was nothing special about this steak.  The steak in Hobart was far better.

Disappointed, I paid the check and left, stopping for souvenirs and an ice cream for later on the way home.  I got back to the hotel, changed into my pajamas, and went out to the balcony, where I lit up a Camacho and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and get a little sleep before my early flight to Sydney.  Tomorrow is the Olympic Stadium, and, assuming that is a success, it will easily wipe out the disappointments of today.

Australia - Day 4 - The Dead Day

12/27/16, “The Dead Day”
Hobart International Airport, Tasmania, Australia (HBA)

I suppose this dateline and establishing shot pretty much sums up today.  Today is a very odd day of the trip, in that absolutely no activities are planned.  It is merely my transit from the southernmost city I am spending a night (Hobart) to the northernmost (Cairns).  The way the flights worked and the fact that I said “Tasmania Complete” last night and that the Great Barrier Reef (my purpose for going to Cairns) requires a full day was what necessitated the trip being structured with this dead day.

I will connect in Brisbane (pronounced BRIZZ-bin, not bris-BAYN as I would have expected, just as Melbourne is pronounced MEL-burn and not mel-BORN) before continuing to Cairns.  All in all, it promises to be an entirely uninteresting day.  To clear up any confusion, the title comes from the closing line of last night’s entry (Today was a crazy intense day, but tomorrow will be a dead day, so I guess it evens out.), and it has nothing to do with the tragic news I learned when I woke up this morning.

After I closed last night, I headed back to the hotel to publish before passing out.  I would need to stop by Budget in the morning to drop off the keys, but they didn’t open until 7:30 AM.  I woke up at 6 AM and saw that my phone was lit with notifications.  One of them was from my best friend.  All I could tell from the notification screen was that she forwarded me a picture and captioned it “Holy fuck”.  What could that possibly be?  I opened the message and saw that the picture was a screenshot of a news article.  The headline on the news article broke my heart.  “Iconic Star Wars Actress Carrie Fisher Dies at 60: ‘She Was Loved by the World and She Will Be Missed Profoundly’”.  No, this couldn’t be happening.  This couldn’t be real.  Surely I misread the headline.  A message from another friend confirmed it, as did my Facebook news feed.

I was still half-asleep, so I didn’t fully process the news, I suppose, and went back to sleep.  I woke up around 8 AM and walked over to Budget.  They were able to backdate the return to 7:30 AM so that I wouldn’t be charged, but they told me I would have to circle the block (one-way street) to return the car to the garage.  I looked at the angles and, knowing how tight of turns the car could make, I knew that I could I just drive it straight from the parking spot across the street into the garage if the street was clear of oncoming traffic.  I did just that.  Meanwhile, I had to decide on what to do for breakfast, and I opted for a place called Salamanca Wharf Café, which seemed the highest rated breakfast spot.  It was 15-minute walk from Budget, but the rain was starting to pick up, so I wouldn’t exactly be a peasant walk.

As I walked, now relieved of my obligations for the morning, the scope of the tragedy finally struck me and the grief found me.  I was completely heartbroken.  This was Princess Leia.  She was the ultimate survivor.  I just saw her in Rogue One receiving the stolen Death Star plans and saying that this gave them “Hope.”  She looked her youthful self, thanks to CGI, and that would be how I would always remember her.  General Organa will still be in Episode 8, and I suppose her character will have to meet the same fate as the actress, either at the end of Episode 8 or the start of Episode 9.  Han is dead, and I never expected Luke to survive the sequels.

The old is out, to be replaced by the new.  When the next generation of kids grows up, to them, “Star Wars” will mean “Rey, Finn, and Poe” not, “Luke, Leia, and Han” or “Anakin, Padme, and Obi-Wan”.  It will mean “Kylo Ren and Snoke” not “Darth Vader and the Emperor” or “Count Dooku and General Grievous”.  For better or worse, that is what Disney has made happen, and Carrie’s death has only reinforced that.

I soon arrived at the restaurant, thoroughly drenched.  For breakfast, I ordered the house speciality, along with a flat white.  It consisted of bacon, smoked salmon (subbed in for the chorizo), mushrooms, poached eggs, and sourdough toast.  It was heavenly.  When I was done, it was pouring, so I trudged back to the hotel, attempting to call my parents on the way to discuss the news, but they were driving and couldn’t talk,, and they couldn't quite figure the advanced technology known as the "speakerphone".

I picked up some souvenirs on the way and was soon back at my hotel.  I didn’t want to put my wet clothes in my suitcase, and I had to change into my suit to fly, so I tried to dry my casual clothes, but the washer/dryer had some weird features and wound up making the clothes even damper than they already were.  I packed and headed down to wait for a cab.  The cab took me to the airport, and I got my boarding passes for both flights.  The rain had stopped, so I sat down outside, where I lit up a Graycliff and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close (along with having to cut my cigar short) so that I can head to the gate.

Cairns, Queensland, Australia

I suppose that dateline and this establishing shot seem as insignificant as the one from today’s first entry and they are, but it is what it represents that matters and what is on the other side of this building further down the road.  Datelines of Aguanguen, Michoacan, Mexico and Yellowknife, Northwest Territories and Syangboche, Nepal are just as unassuming, but they, too, are united by this common theme, the one reason I came to Cairns.  That reason, of course, is the Great Barrier Reef, a Natural Wonder of the World.  For those playing along at home, Paricutin Volcano, the Northern Lights, and Mount Everest would be the Wonders associated with those other datelines.

However, for my purposes, perhaps the datelines of Mont Tremblant, Quebec and Vienna, Austria and the Drake Passage and Xi’an, China would be the better analogs.  Those are, of course, where I have previously smoked my 2008 Christmas Pipe during my various Christmas trips.  The sites whose visits I recounted during each of those smokes are far more interesting than anything I saw today, but this entry is not about today.  It is about tomorrow.  It is about seeing the Reef.  I killed an entire day to get from Hobart to Cairns.  I’ve been known to see countries in less time than that.  The reason for this is singular: to see the Reef tomorrow.  The reef is the last Natural Wonder of the World that remains for me, and, since today is an otherwise boring entry, I will recount the journeys that took me to the other six.  Tomorrow, I will compare and contrast the Seven Wonders, as I did with the seven continents.

First was the Grand Canyon.  For fifteen years, that trip was considered the greatest trip I had ever taken.  The extensive planning that went into, in a time before smartphones and sites like Wikitravel, set the stage for all the travel planning I continue to do to this day.  There was no Hotels.com, you had to call and book the hotels (and flights).  It was a beast of trip to plan, and it would have been no easy task to do even with today’s technology.  We did it, though.  We flew to Vegas, spent a few days there, and then drove to Arizona, where we found it, again, in a time before GPS navigation was widespread.  When I think of the “good old days”, to me, that trip will always be the epitome of it.

It would be over ten years before I saw another of the Seven.  That was when I began travelling on my own internationally.  I had arranged a three-day tour in Mexico, a detailed and intense agenda, the first time I had Enrique as a tour guide, and he picked me up at the airport early in the morning after my overnight flight.  We drove straight to Michoacan and had lunch at a café in Aguanguen before he set me up with a local guide for the Volcano.  It would be cheating to scroll up and look up these adventures, so I will only recount the details I can remember offhand.  I was still wearing my travelling suit, and the horse hands looked at me like I was crazy, until I expertly mounted the horse in one movement and their looks turned to respect.  It was a long ride to the base of the Volcano, then a bit of a hike up to the top, but, there we were.

At that point, I didn’t really think it was realistic to expect to visit the other five within the next few years.  After that came the Northern Lights, just a few months later.  The biggest challenge there was simply luck.  Unlike the other six, which are fixed and accessible, this one is in the sky and subject to luck if it’s visible.  I got lucky, very lucky.  I had to take three flights, I think, to get to Yellowknife.  Once I was there, it was easy.  I lucked out the first night and saw them from my hotel.  The second night I had a guide to take me to an even more remote location with a better view, and we were just as lucky.

It would be over two years before I would see another of the Seven.  That was my 28^th Birthday and my first trip to Africa.  Two flights, a long one from Kennedy to Johannesburg, then a short one from J-burg to Victoria Falls.  Once I was there, a short taxi ride to my hotel and a short walk from my hotel to the Falls.  That was four down, three to go, and, by that point, I had figured out the logistics of the remaining ones, so the end was in sight.

The next summer I went to Rio for the Olympics.  That was the easiest one to reach, actually.  A direct flight to Rio, a car to my hotel, and then a short walk to the Harbor.  The rest of that trip was what made it the GOAT and displace the Grand Canyon trip.

A few months later was my recent trip to Nepal to see Everest.  It should come as no surprise that the Mountain was the hardest to reach, and I didn’t even set foot on the mountain, just seeing it from the distance.  I went to England first, but the journey would have been exactly the same if I had skipped England and went straight from Kennedy.  I flew from Manchester to Kathmandu, connecting in Doha (as I did on the way back home).  After my night in Kathmandu, I took an early (and adventurous!) flight to Lukla, where the helicopter picked me and took me to the hotel in Syangboche.  From the back of the hotel I could see the Mountain.  That was that.

Only one remained: the Reef.  My readers have been following along the journey that brought me to Cairns, and, even if this was my only destination, it would have required three flights and 27 hours in the air just to get to Cairns.  Now, here I am, and, tomorrow morning, I will take a day boat tour to the Reef, and that will be that.  It promises to be an interesting day, but, first, I need to recount the rest of this boring day.

After I closed at HBA, I went through security and picked up a little snack: espresso, a “Proper” scallop pie, and a signature dessert called a Lamington.  We soon boarded, and, though I struggled getting my overstuffed bag in the overhead “locker” as they call it, the flight was entirely unadventurous.  They served “Christmas cake” (basically a mini fruitcake) and hot drinks.  I chose more coffee, of course.

When we landed in Brisbane, I had two hours to kill.  I wanted sugar, so I got a milkshake from Carl Jr’s and waffle fries.  The milkshake was like water.  I said something, and the guy seemed to think that’s how it was supposed to be.  Maybe that’s how they make them in Australia, but I was severely disappointed by it, especially since this was an indulgence for me.  He asked if I wanted him to remake it.  I took him up on that offer and told him to just use half the milk.  I underestimated the milk, and it was too thick this time, but I preferred that to too thin, as it soon melted down to the right consistency.

After I was done, we soon started boarding, and I updated my travel spreadsheets during the otherwise unadventurous flight.  This time, it was some type of lemon jam cookie and juice this time.  I hadn’t realized how far north we were going, just inside 17 degrees south of the equator.  It was in sharp contrast to the temperate climate of Tasmania.  They called this region “Tropical North Queensland”, and the weather was appropriate to that name.

The whole area reminded me more of a Caribbean island than anything else.  The taxi ride to the hotel was short, and I checked in and changed into my still-damp casual clothes.  I had chosen the top-rated seafood place on Tripadvisor, which was called Prawn Star.  I thought it was just a seafood restaurant, but, apparently, I misunderstood.  I walked through the happening Esplanade, which was the first touristy place I had seen all trip, and, with some difficulty found the restaurant.

It was a repurposed fishing boat with one large table that could seat ten.  They specialized in prawns.  It was a bit of wait, but I was soon seated and ordered my platter of prawns, along with a beer.  The prawns were cold and unpeeled, so it was a vastly different experience than I expected, but they were fresh and delicious.  Unfortunately, though, since this was technically on a boat, I could not count it as my first “Official” meal in Queensland.  After I was done, even after washing them, my hands reeked of prawns.  That smell would not be going away easily.

I made my way back to the hotel and even debated swapping my Christmas Pipe out for a cigar, since I would sooner smoke a cigar with smelly hands than my pipe.  The difference being that I have to rub out the tobacco before putting it in my pipe, while the cigar I do not have to smoke any part that my hand touches.  I used the scented body wash to kill the smell of prawns on my hand, but that wasn’t much better, since the scent of the body wash would affect the tobacco and seep through to the pipe.  I then vigorously used soap to wash off the body wash, to the point where I wound up peeling off some skin in the process, but my hands finally smelled neutral.  I then went outside, where I sat down, lit up my 2008 Christmas Pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and post some photos before going to sleep, as I need to get up early tomorrow to go see the Reef.

Australia - Day 3 - Tasmania

12/27/16, “Tasmania”

Hobart, Tasmania, Australia

Today was supposed to be just a footnote of this trip, secondary to the trip’s main purposes of setting foot on the continent, visiting the two Olympic Stadiums, seeing the Great Barrier Reef, and ringing in the New Year in Sydney.  Instead, today became an epic adventure that will likely be overshadowed only by my time in Sydney.  When the reckoning comes, surely today will be remembered as the most interesting day of the trip.

When I wrote from Melbourne the first night, I noted that that was not the urban Australia I had pictured in my mind, though most of the pictures of Australia in my mind were of the rugged outback.  Well, today, after driving 8 hours across 575 klicks through Tasmania, I have found that rugged outback.  I have experienced the natural and cultural beauty I had been expecting out of Australia.  The Great Barrier Reef and Sydney will be unique in their own ways, but this was the classic Australia I had in my mind, and it is a day that I will never forget.

I am now smoking my 2007 Christmas Pipe, and, though Hobart is an unassuming dateline, the story that will accompany it provides good companionship to those that can accompany Ottawa, Budapest, the first night aboard the Corinthian, and Beijing, the other places I have smoked the 2007 Christmas Pipes during my Christmas trips.  Hell, the story that accompanied the Liverpool is of that level, too.  Okay, I have a lot to recount, so I better get to it.

After I closed, I published and posted my photos before heading down to my seat.  I slept fitfully throughout the night.  At one point when I woke up, I, for the first time, started to question the merit of today’s plan.  When I was fully awake, I realized that I had made a major miscalculation or had failed to consider it properly.  My route, as I mentioned above, would take 8 hours and 575 klicks.  My plan was to hire a driver to take me around.  Somehow, in my head, I was expecting that to cost an order of magnitude less than it would actually cost.  This was not a viable plan at all, and I was furious with myself for making such a bad plan.  Usually when I fuck up, it’s in the execution.  Yes, sometimes I create an impossibly tight schedule for myself, but this was different.  I tried to think what I was missing now that I had thought of earlier, but I couldn’t think of anything.

A little before 6 AM, I was fully awake, and I changed into my suit before getting breakfast (various meat-filled pastries) and a flat white.  After breakfast, I went to the ship’s tourist desk.  I had in my mind an upper bound I was willing to pay, and that was a hard upper bound.  Any more than that, and I would forget my master plan and just take public transportation to Hobart.  She told me that the taxi would cost at least double or triple my upper bound.  That was not an option.  She gave me the number for some private tour guides, and we also discussed what I will now call “Plan B”, even though it should have been “Plan A”.  That was renting a car.

That should have been my plan all along, and I should have had a reservation, rather than first thinking about this at 4 AM, two hours before landing at Devonport.  She thought it was not a safe bet that the rental companies would have anything available.  I was not worried about driving on the left, as, I believe, after today, I have actually done more driving on the left than on the right this year.  Certainly, if you only count solo driving, that is the case.  Two trips to Britain, Jamaica, and now this trip.  The private drivers were only doing organized tours to Cradle Mountain, which would take way too long for my grand plan, so that was a no go. 

We soon disembarked, and I headed to the terminal.  Of the four car rental agencies, one was closed, two were booked, and the fourth, Budget, had cars.  She assured me that driving here would be rough but much easier than Jamaica.  I was satisfied.  We made my reservation, and then I learned that it was a manual.  No, I can’t drive stick.  She rearranged some stuff in her system and was able to give me a compact automatic.  That would do.  I was all set.

My first destination was the Cradle Mountain area of the Tasmanian Wilderness World Heritage Site, the inscription spot.  As I drove, listening to Moana and La La Land and smoking a Graycliff followed by a Nub, I was amazed by the scenery.  Yes, at last, this was the Australia I had been picturing.  It looked more like Africa than anywhere in Europe or the Americas.  This was the rugged outback, indeed.

I soon arrived at the VC, and, since it was so early, it was relatively empty, but I knew it would not remain that way.  I showed the ranger the inscription photo, and she told that I would probably not be able to see it due to the overcast.  She knew where the spot was, though, if I wanted to try.  I asked her how far the drive was.  No, I couldn’t drive there.  It was a 3-hour hike.  That wasn’t happening, certainly not for a maybe.  She said I could see the mountain from Crater Lake if the clouds cleared.  I could drive there, and there were hiking trails.  Okay, that would work.  I got my souvenirs and drove the 20 minutes to Crater Lake.  It, too, was pretty empty.  The view from the lake was not much to behold, but I went on my hike, nonetheless, hoping for the best.

It was still clearly the Tasmanian Wilderness, so I claimed the WHS the moment I lit up my H. Upmann.  I went on my hike, in my suit, with my cigar, as is my wont.  It was a glorious hike, and the scenery along the trail was unreal.  Yes, this was certainly the proper Tasmanian wilderness.  I ended my hike at a place called Wombat Pool (or perhaps Wombat Poo, as the signs said, if they were not vandalized to say that), which was absolutely serene.  I turned around and headed back to the car park.  When I got there, all the tour groups had just arrived, and it was packed.

I made my way back to the entrance, stopping at the interpretative center to take my picture with the Plaque, followed by the Tasmanian Devil viewing center, which was exactly what it sounds like.  It was a miniature zoo, filled with Tasmanian Devils.  Somehow, that seemed to be the most popular site with my friends who saw my videos.  I stopped at the VC again to use the Wi-Fi before hitting the road.  It was Avril Lavinge’s “Let Go” and an Aurora this time.

Hunger was starting to become a serious issue after the cigar, and I couldn’t find any place to eat on the road.  Eventually, I found a little garden villa with a café.  I sat outside and ordered a glass of local red, along with their local seafood basket (shrimp and salmon, plus imported scallops).  This would be first Official meal in Tasmania, and it was heavenly.  After lunch, I lit up a Camacho and weant back to the movie soundtracks.  I followed the Camacho with an LFD.  It was a straight shot from lunch to my next stop, Port Arthur, a 3-hour drive, stopping only for gas.

The old Penitentiary at Port Arthur was the inscription spot for the WHS called Australian Convict Sites, which to my readers who remember their history books, is, by far, Australia’s most interesting cultural WHS.  To my readers who do not, the penal colonies played a pivotal role in Britain’s development of the colony of Australia.  This WHS protects what remains of those penal colonies.  I expected Port Arthur to just be a photo op, but it was huge.  It was more like Williamsburg than the photo op I expected.  I lit up a Vegas Robaina and headed down to find the spot where the inscription photo was taken.  It was right by the VC, which was completely bustling and served as a gateway from the car park to the historic site.  I took my ceremonial picture and then explored a little.  I was completely overwhelmed by how massive it was.

I left my cigar underneath a bench and went inside the pen, which was not as well-preserved on the inside as it was on the outside.  My cigar was still it when I retrieved, so I walked around some more before calling it quits.  I now had a bit of a dilemma.  The only way to get to the car park was through the VC, and I could not bring my cigar through the VC.  I looked all around for another entrance, but I couldn’t find one.  I did, however, find a solution.  There was an opening in the fence that had a ledge.  I could leave the cigar on that ledge, and I would be able to access that ledge again from the other side.

I did exactly that.  I got my souvenirs and then went to retrieve my cigar, which had gone out by then.  I relit my cigar, and it was, again, a straight shot to Hobart, stopping only for gas.  When I rented the car at Devonport, they told me I could drop the car off after-hours at Hobart.  When I arrived at the Budget at Hobart, I saw no way to leave my key, so I will have to deal with it the morning.  I left my car across the street from Budget and took the short, 5-minute walk to my hotel.

When I got to the hotel, I learned that reception was closed and the front door locked (it was only 8 PM), but they had a procedure for that, which involved a lock box with everyone’s key.  That hardly seemed like a good idea, but I found mine and went up to my room to drop off my suitcase.  Parliament was a short walk from my hotel, and that was the last piece of the puzzle I needed to say “Tasmania Complete.”  I could get the souvenirs in the morning, but I wanted to say “Tasmania Complete.”

I took my ceremonial picture in front of Parliament and then headed back to the hotel.  I now needed to think about dinner as it was almost 8 hours since lunch.  I looked at Tripadvisor and picked a new, trendy restaurant called Rockwall.  The menu looked fantastic, and it was a 10-minute walk from my hotel, just past Parliament.  I changed into more casual clothes and grabbed whatever I need for smokes and electronics for the night.

When I got there, it was packed.  The hostess (co-owner?) told me that they could have a table for me in 5-10 minutes.  After what seemed like an eternity but was actually only 20 minutes, they sat me.  With some help from the waiter, I ordered well.  I got a local beer, rock lobster pate appetizer, and their signature coffee-rubbed eye fillet steak, along with chips (fries).  The meal was fantastic, and I deserved a good meal after this intense day.

A piece of advice for my readers.  Australia has some great restaurants.  I have eaten as well so far on this trip as I have had on any trip, and the good (as in good quality food, not as in fancy) restaurants are in the same price range as the bad ones and not significantly more expensive than takeout or cafes.  If you go to Australia, do your research, rely on sites like Tripadvisor, and you’ll eat very well.

After dinner, I headed back towards Parliament and filled up my 2007 Christmas Pipe and lit in the garden.  Sitting in the garden would not afford me a good picture for my establishing shot, though, so, instead, I sat down in the parking lot, with my back against the curb, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can get back to my hotel and publish and also post some photos.  Today was a crazy intense day, but tomorrow will be a dead day, so I guess it evens out.

Australia - Day 2 - Melbourne 1956

12/26/16, “Melbourne 1956”

Melbourne, Victoria, Australia

I know almost nothing about the Games of the XVI Olympiad, and I know even less about cricket.  However, the Melbourne Cricket Ground, where I am currently watching the first day of the famed Boxing Day Cricket Test, was the home of the Games of the XVI Olympiad.  Taking place in 1956, it serves as the midway point between the Games of the I Olympiad in 1896 (the t-shirt I am currently wearing) and the most recent Games of the XXXI Olympiad in 2016.  After this, only one remains, and I will be visiting the Stadium in Sydney four days from now, where I will finally finish this quest.

Setting foot on all seven continents was easy compared to this monstrous task of stepping inside all 27 Olympic Stadiums.  “26 Down, 1 To Go.”  Those were the words I uttered as the Australian national anthem began playing before the test.  This was the only activity I had on my agenda for today, and, even with my limited knowledge of the sport of cricket, it promises to make for an enjoyable day at the G, as they call it.

When the day is over, I will be able to walk back across the street to my hotel and have dinner there before taking the overnight ferry to Tasmania.  It will be a relatively boring day, but no day that includes a visit to an Olympic Stadium can truly be considered boring, and the ferry ride to Tasmania promises to be an adventure.  Tasmania is another one of those places that I always heard about growing up but never expected to visit.  That will be the activity tomorrow, the day after I will make my way to Cairns, then the next three days will be the Great Barrier Reef, the 2000 Olympic Stadium, and my NYE Celebrations in Sydney.  On paper, it seems like a light trip, and perhaps it is, but the epicness of what is upcoming in the week to come cannot be doubted.

After I closed last night, I published from that same bench before walking back to my hotel.  I made a cup of tea and fell asleep almost as soon as I was done with the tea.  I slept intermittently and woke up for breakfast around 8 AM.  It was completely packed, and the food was depleted.  Eventually, I found a seat, and they replenished the food.  It was a proper English fry-up, and I got bangers and rashers and taters and shrooms, along with a slice of bread and some coffee.  After breakfast, I went up to the room and started to get ready.

My hotel was right across the street from the G, and I could see people walking there.  I was wondering if I would be able to bring in my computer bag, and I saw plenty of people walking with backpacks, so that answered that question.  Once I was ready, I left my suit and suitcase at the front desk and walked to the G.  I picked up my ticket and made my way to the gate.  It was packed, and it was definitely full of people gearing to spend the whole day there.  It would be an adventure for sure, even if watching cricket would be the least exciting part of it for me.  Taking my ceremonial picture, having all sorts of food, and smoking at the G would be the adventure for me.  The test meant nothing to me, but the experience meant everything.

I went through security, which was rather perfunctory and headed to my seat, as the Australian national anthem began playing.  I took my ceremonial picture and then sat down to watch the beginning of the test.  I had no idea what was going on.  After half an hour, it now being 11 AM, I went to get lunch: fries, a burger, and two beers, all of which I brought back to my seat, well, a different seat actually.  I ate my lunch at my seat, finishing my first beer with lunch and saving the second beer for my entry.  I then proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can watch a little more cricket before I go out for my smoke.

At sea, Spirit of Tasmania I, Bass Strait, En route Melbourne-Devonport

Toronto, Sarajevo, Ushuaia, and Beijing.  Those are the iconic locations where I have smoked the 2006 Christmas Pipes on various Days 1 of my Christmas trips on either 12/26 or 12/27, along with New Delhi and Kathmandu on my Thanksgiving trips.  Since this trip has slightly different timing, I am smoking at the end of Day 2 with a far less glamourous dateline than Melbourne would have provided last night, but structuring the trip like this was the price I had to pay if I wanted to include Tasmania in this trip, and that is where I will wake up tomorrow morning.  Those trips were are incredibly epic, and this trip is on track to put them all to shame.

After I closed at the Stadium, I watched the rest of the first session before heading out during the break to have an Ardor, figuring a pipe to be more proper for a cricket test than a cigar.  By the time I got back to my seat for the second session, having stopped for ice cream and a flat white (an espresso drink invented and beloved in Australia, much like a latte), I had a better understanding of the sport of cricket, but it was still a very boring thing to watch, and I spent more time looking at my phone than at the field.  It was okay.  I had nothing better to do today, and I was in the Olympic Stadium.  I was home.  That was all that mattered.

Soon the rain came, and they suspended play not long before they were scheduled to end the second session.  There would be no third session today.  I headed outside, grabbing a meat pie on the way, and found a bench in a covered area in view of the Olympic wall that listed all the champions from the Melbourne Games.  I lit up a Por Larranga, and I was fully relaxed.  As I finished my cigar, it became clear they would not be resuming play that day, so I headed back to the hotel.  It was almost time for dinner anyway.

Seeing as it was Chanukah, I even picked up a jelly donut after my cigar, along with an espresso.  This was a bad decision, as dinner was going to be in another hour or so.  As I left the Stadium, I said something that I almost never say on my travels: “That was fun.”  I don’t travel to have fun.  I travel to see the sites.  I can have relaxing at my apartment, and I enjoy that far more than I could ever enjoy lounging on the beach.  I got back to the hotel and used my laptop in the lobby for an hour before changing into my suit and heading down for dinner.

The adorable waitress asked me what I wanted to drink.  I asked if she had club soda.  She looked at me blankly with her cute smile.  I tried again and asked if they had seltzer.  “What’s that?”  I tried once more and asked for sparkling water.  “Oh, you mean just soda water.”  Yes, that was what I meant.  For food, I ordered a fish and chips made with local fish.  It took so long, and the taxi would soon be there, that I was about to walk up and leave, but it came at the last possible minute.  The restaurant was packed with people coming from the cricket test, but to wait over half an hour for fish and chips was unacceptable, and I’m sure my reader understands that I didn’t have much of an appetite to boot.

After I was done eating, I got in the taxi and was on my way.  I asked him to stop at Carlton Gardens on the way, as I had forgotten to take my picture with the Plaque yesterday.  I got my picture, and we were on my way.  I then realized that I had completely forgotten something else: souvenirs.  Yesterday, everything was closed, so I wasn’t even looking, and today was all about the Stadium, so I didn’t think about it.  I was disappointed, but I did have my souvenirs from the Stadium, and I could get souvenirs from the ferry.  How did I make such a rookie mistake?  Completely forgetting to get Melbourne souvenirs?!?  I clearly hadn’t brought my A-game today.

We were soon at the ferry dock, and I got my ticket before boarding the ferry.  I left my pajamas at my seat and then headed up to the back smoking deck, which had benches.  I lit up an Oliva and put on the soundtrack from Moana, very fitting for a long voyage by sea.  I alternated it with La La Land for Oscar comparison purposes, and “How Far I’ll Go” is my clear choice for the Oscar.  “City of Lights” is too bland, and “Fools Who Dream” is too derivative.  Meanwhile, I messaged my friend about Dwayne Johnson’s shockingly excellent singing voice.  I expected him to be asleep, as it was 4 AM back in New York, but he messaged me back.

We messaged almost nonstop about various pop culture theories for over two hours before, I suppose, he passed out, since he stopped answering.  As soon as we set sail, I lit up my Davidoff Yamasa Toro, which I traditionally reserve for the first long surface journey (car and ship both count).  After the Davidoff, I changed into my pajamas and went back up to the deck.  That was when my friend stopped messaging, and we were soon going enter Bass Strait, but I needed to wait for that so that I wouldn’t have to change my dateline.  As we started to enter the strait, a large crowd gathered to watch the passing, and I filled up my pipe.  The crowd left as soon as we entered the strait, and I lit up my 2006 Christmas Pipe and proceeded to write this entry, which I will close so that I can publish and maybe post my photos, too, before getting some sleep.