Lire la traduction française
The gnome with the very big nose is leading the girl in this filthy, muddy bog. The thick murky brown waters fart to release a foul stench, which makes the journey to save the baby really difficult…
Do you follow me?
The Bog of Eternal Stench is not a product of my imagination; it exists in Labyrinth, the Jim Henson’s movie starring David Bowie in creepy pastel tights. Well, now you’ll wonder where I am going with this.
In the rainforest, the waters are crystal-clear and often travel in grand cascades down the cliffs of the mountains. The latter are like sparkling fields of emeralds, their faraway heads crowned by thin, milky clouds. There is definitely no farting bog and I haven’t caught a glimpse of the gnomes, even though I met a lot of their beautiful fellow magical creatures such as metallic blue butterflies and shiny purple and orange kingfishers. But after 4 days of living outside in Paradise, in the almighty rainy season, I felt a bit like someone must have felt trying to survive the Bog of Eternal Stench.
Every one of the few belongings I kept outside, the plants, the dog, my hair, my shoes, Marc’s hat and my entire being started to grow moldy. You see, it pours down every day, all day. Moreover, you surely smell the mold but it’s only when you leave the dense canopy that you actually see the nice velvety blue covering your cooler, shorts, socks and underwear. The rainforest is so thick that you spend much of your time in a light that mimics the shades of colors dusk paints on the sky. I could hardly believe it, but even my Patagonia state-of-the-art raincoat was moldy, and I had to soak it in vinegar.
Nevertheless, the RAINforest takes on a glowing, breathtaking magnificence under the thousands of shiny raindrops that nourish the soil a couple months of the year. Every leaf, from small like a birch’s up to the giant palm tree “fans”, sparkles like fireworks on a misty lake.
When you live and WWOOF at the Platypus Bush Camp, you come to envy your duck billed friends in the river for they have a very good protection against humidity… And it makes you appreciate the simplest of comfort: something called “indoors”. Since we began our Australian journey, Marc and I have lived in the car for about one month, and then in a small tent for 2 months. With this jungle adventure just ending, I realize once more how beautiful it is to CHOOSE willfully to reduce our level of comfort. It really does make you appreciate the smallest of details so much more. I become ecstatic at the smell of clean clothes, at the feeling of clean sheets on my skin, at the idea of a bed, and at the scent of a good tea. I cannot even describe how good I feel when I find a cozy couch to lay on…
I always believed happiness was weaved of the little things in life. Of course I would add on the grandeur of the loved ones, who would be the pearls embedded in the fabric, making it eternal, as pearls never vanish with time. Plus, they bring a range of changing colours to support our changing moods and hopes…
Thanks for being there!
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Armpit Tattoos
Lire l'original en Français
We have invented almost everything to “embellish” ourselves. We modify our hair, tan our skin; unfortunately, we add or take away parts of our bodies and pierce or draw art galleries on the walls of our skin. We choose fabrics, coloured, veiled, embroidered and sometimes as bright as a star filled sky. And I find us beautiful in our endless variety. I have to admit, sometimes, I can only fill myself with the greatest humility facing Mother Nature’s creation.
Oh well, I know some of us were lucky enough to have their armpits “ectrolysized” or “laserized” (it almost sounds like torture…!). So it makes sense that we want to make the most forgotten alcoves of our bodies more attractive. But I believe some inhabitants of Gaia’ depths steal the show. Who has ever thought of tattooing their armpits? I’m sure someone has already done it, but I wouldn’t say it’s a norm. However, it’s surely a norm for parrot fishes, my favourite fishes. Many times I have meditated facing these unbelievable beauties, and still every time I’m with them, I feel so small, even though I’m much bigger than they are with my diving suit, my gigantic mask and my oxygen bottle, which looks like a bomb! They are “celestially” beautiful. I’m sure all the Gods of all the world’s religions must have entered a partnership in which they had to try and use the entire terrestrial colour palette on one living creature. And not only did they succeed, but they also managed to combine a great part of already existing patterns!
From the Celtic labyrinth on top of the tiny cranium, to the colourful triangles on the fins, to the lunar rainbow on the tail, and to the scales reminiscing of the Flower of life, the parrotfish is a millennial archive containing a global list of arts. I believe if they could read, they would be touched! And they even look different when the Sun is shining; they glitter like an opal and we can see a cascade of shooting stars on their head.
I couldn’t cry because I hate to have water in my mask, but I believe I could have added a little water to the Pacific Ocean as I was so pleased to join the old friends I hadn’t seen since Hawai’i. It was so good to be back in the land of bubbles, with ever changing landscapes! I floated from the land of gigantic scoops of ice cream to the district of violet and metallic turquoise mouths opening and shutting as if they wanted to share, in an instant, all the might of their country with me. And through all of it, I held your hand so you could travel with me and witness submarine flowers oscillating in the currents with grace.
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
We have invented almost everything to “embellish” ourselves. We modify our hair, tan our skin; unfortunately, we add or take away parts of our bodies and pierce or draw art galleries on the walls of our skin. We choose fabrics, coloured, veiled, embroidered and sometimes as bright as a star filled sky. And I find us beautiful in our endless variety. I have to admit, sometimes, I can only fill myself with the greatest humility facing Mother Nature’s creation.
Oh well, I know some of us were lucky enough to have their armpits “ectrolysized” or “laserized” (it almost sounds like torture…!). So it makes sense that we want to make the most forgotten alcoves of our bodies more attractive. But I believe some inhabitants of Gaia’ depths steal the show. Who has ever thought of tattooing their armpits? I’m sure someone has already done it, but I wouldn’t say it’s a norm. However, it’s surely a norm for parrot fishes, my favourite fishes. Many times I have meditated facing these unbelievable beauties, and still every time I’m with them, I feel so small, even though I’m much bigger than they are with my diving suit, my gigantic mask and my oxygen bottle, which looks like a bomb! They are “celestially” beautiful. I’m sure all the Gods of all the world’s religions must have entered a partnership in which they had to try and use the entire terrestrial colour palette on one living creature. And not only did they succeed, but they also managed to combine a great part of already existing patterns!
From the Celtic labyrinth on top of the tiny cranium, to the colourful triangles on the fins, to the lunar rainbow on the tail, and to the scales reminiscing of the Flower of life, the parrotfish is a millennial archive containing a global list of arts. I believe if they could read, they would be touched! And they even look different when the Sun is shining; they glitter like an opal and we can see a cascade of shooting stars on their head.
I couldn’t cry because I hate to have water in my mask, but I believe I could have added a little water to the Pacific Ocean as I was so pleased to join the old friends I hadn’t seen since Hawai’i. It was so good to be back in the land of bubbles, with ever changing landscapes! I floated from the land of gigantic scoops of ice cream to the district of violet and metallic turquoise mouths opening and shutting as if they wanted to share, in an instant, all the might of their country with me. And through all of it, I held your hand so you could travel with me and witness submarine flowers oscillating in the currents with grace.
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
Monday, February 8, 2010
I am Eddy Murphy…not anymore
Read the French translation
Do you remember the Nutty Professor? That movie in which a fat teacher becomes skinny and “good looking” to get a girl, and then becomes fat again? Well…that was me…or more precisely my foot, and just the “becoming fat” part. He (Eddy Murphy) was looking as his feet that were swelling instantly, like if someone was blowing them up like balloons. Well, Wednesday, January 13, some invisible force decided that would be the fate of my right foot. Something called blood rushed to my ankle like it`d called 911 and established a state of emergency. While my eyes were shiny with tears, the agile staff of my body`s disaster crew had blown my foot up so big, it did not even look like a foot anymore.
A very heavy metal frame had fallen on my ankle, at precisely 5 o`clock, when I was closing the doors of the bakery. And to my great disappointment, there was the end of my bakery career. I got the crutches, two sets of X-Rays (you have to drive 1.5 hours both ways to get them), physio and a very good service from Work Cover, the Bakery and the 4 doctors I saw. Nothing is broken. Just heavily hurt. In about 3 weeks I will be able to walk normally!
You can imagine what it was like walking with my crutches in the hostel every day. I could not go anywhere so I was always in the common area, where tons of new backpacker faces would ask me repeatedly “How did you hurt your foot?”. And that would be immediately followed by the corners of their mouths going down; “What a shame, hurting yourself when travelling!”. And then I would tell them there are way worst things in life and that my existence was still magical every day. They seemed surprised by my positive thinking. One day I got to give them a very good example of “worst things”. There was a new guest at the hostel, an Israeli speaking perfect English and having a great sense of sharing. Unfortunately, his face and body were not as great as his intellect though. He was heavily handicapped, with his limbs and facial features twisted like the eucalyptus avoiding the storm. He was moving around, almost dancing, with two crutches that looked like they had grown to be part of him. He played ping-pong with his good hand and took his t-shirt off to swim laps in the pool and chat with fellow travellers. And he asked me what happened to my foot, genuinely caring about me. Wow!
After two and a half weeks, my foot got a little better; enough to stand up to watch the toad race for Australia Day. Standing proud in green and gold (Oz`s colours), I also gave water to save the life of a food contest participant (Marc participated as well) and played with the dogs and their Australian flags.
Finally, we thought my nutty foot was good looking enough to leave Agnes after two months. We left after 2 days of flood, crossing rivers with our epic Shocker. It was time to go: only ten minutes after packing our camp in the heavy rain, a river created itself and started rushing down the field exactly where our heads used to dream every night. It is just wonderful how the landscape modifies itself to reinvent the world. Just like a pregnant woman. I wish I could view global warming just like that…
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Video
Do you remember the Nutty Professor? That movie in which a fat teacher becomes skinny and “good looking” to get a girl, and then becomes fat again? Well…that was me…or more precisely my foot, and just the “becoming fat” part. He (Eddy Murphy) was looking as his feet that were swelling instantly, like if someone was blowing them up like balloons. Well, Wednesday, January 13, some invisible force decided that would be the fate of my right foot. Something called blood rushed to my ankle like it`d called 911 and established a state of emergency. While my eyes were shiny with tears, the agile staff of my body`s disaster crew had blown my foot up so big, it did not even look like a foot anymore.
A very heavy metal frame had fallen on my ankle, at precisely 5 o`clock, when I was closing the doors of the bakery. And to my great disappointment, there was the end of my bakery career. I got the crutches, two sets of X-Rays (you have to drive 1.5 hours both ways to get them), physio and a very good service from Work Cover, the Bakery and the 4 doctors I saw. Nothing is broken. Just heavily hurt. In about 3 weeks I will be able to walk normally!
You can imagine what it was like walking with my crutches in the hostel every day. I could not go anywhere so I was always in the common area, where tons of new backpacker faces would ask me repeatedly “How did you hurt your foot?”. And that would be immediately followed by the corners of their mouths going down; “What a shame, hurting yourself when travelling!”. And then I would tell them there are way worst things in life and that my existence was still magical every day. They seemed surprised by my positive thinking. One day I got to give them a very good example of “worst things”. There was a new guest at the hostel, an Israeli speaking perfect English and having a great sense of sharing. Unfortunately, his face and body were not as great as his intellect though. He was heavily handicapped, with his limbs and facial features twisted like the eucalyptus avoiding the storm. He was moving around, almost dancing, with two crutches that looked like they had grown to be part of him. He played ping-pong with his good hand and took his t-shirt off to swim laps in the pool and chat with fellow travellers. And he asked me what happened to my foot, genuinely caring about me. Wow!
After two and a half weeks, my foot got a little better; enough to stand up to watch the toad race for Australia Day. Standing proud in green and gold (Oz`s colours), I also gave water to save the life of a food contest participant (Marc participated as well) and played with the dogs and their Australian flags.
Finally, we thought my nutty foot was good looking enough to leave Agnes after two months. We left after 2 days of flood, crossing rivers with our epic Shocker. It was time to go: only ten minutes after packing our camp in the heavy rain, a river created itself and started rushing down the field exactly where our heads used to dream every night. It is just wonderful how the landscape modifies itself to reinvent the world. Just like a pregnant woman. I wish I could view global warming just like that…
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Video
Thursday, January 21, 2010
The Southern Cross in the eyes
Lire l'original en Français
Dunes moving in front of our eyes, covered by strange green tussocks hiding under melaleucas’ contorted branches. Year after year, these huge medicinal trees survive big storms by twisting their crown toward the ground, creating a canopy with ever changing forms. My eyes waltz from the green filtering in the window, to the road ahead, crossed by an emu or a wallaby, and then, they stick to the rear view mirror. In it, I look at the crow’s feet wonderfully adorning the driver’s sea-blue eyes. Witnesses of the Australian Sun, of the smiles given to his five children and of many perfect waves lifting up his surf board, the crow’s feet bring me reassurance for the second time. I relax, even if I have to hang on for dear life to avoid crashing on my neighbours during this off road rambling.
Mick is a real Australian, like you would imagine after having watched Crocodile Dundee. His flaxen hair enhancing the permanent sun tan hiding his huge constellation of freckles. In the sunlight, it looks like he’s beaming, with his casual smile and passionate eyes. I cross his path almost every day and it always seem to me I’m in front of a 10-years old elder kid. He pinches my belly or tells me a joke I understand every other time, since I’m still in the process of learning the Australian accent. I believe he owns the key to happiness and maybe, the secret for eternal youth.
Every day, Mick brings young backpacker groups to discover the beauties of Deepwater National Park. He must repeat the same old stories every week, but still, both times I accompanied him, his interest and physical alertness seemed renewed. Since I’m passionate about Mother Nature and its wonders, I drilled him with questions…
My new best friends are none other than… sea cucumbers! They emit a substance to blanket their small water plan protecting them from UV rays. Natural sunscreen! When assaulted, they squirt a whitish substance, which glues their predators’ mouths. This substance becomes a very hard thread resembling sinew. As a matter of fact, Mick has used it to repair his harpoon, probably like the First People of Australia did. If you stab a sea cucumber numerous times (?!?), it renews itself after only a few hours. Personally, I think it’s completely magic!
After our visits to the sea cucumbers, it’s time to regenerate. We swim in a river without anybody else, except, once again, the grandiose presence of the melaleucas. Here, they are in the water, making it antiseptic and really good for your skin. This water also tastes like eucalyptus tea. I look at Mick, he splashes me in the face with red water, we laugh and I’m just content to be in Australia.
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Video
Dunes moving in front of our eyes, covered by strange green tussocks hiding under melaleucas’ contorted branches. Year after year, these huge medicinal trees survive big storms by twisting their crown toward the ground, creating a canopy with ever changing forms. My eyes waltz from the green filtering in the window, to the road ahead, crossed by an emu or a wallaby, and then, they stick to the rear view mirror. In it, I look at the crow’s feet wonderfully adorning the driver’s sea-blue eyes. Witnesses of the Australian Sun, of the smiles given to his five children and of many perfect waves lifting up his surf board, the crow’s feet bring me reassurance for the second time. I relax, even if I have to hang on for dear life to avoid crashing on my neighbours during this off road rambling.
Mick is a real Australian, like you would imagine after having watched Crocodile Dundee. His flaxen hair enhancing the permanent sun tan hiding his huge constellation of freckles. In the sunlight, it looks like he’s beaming, with his casual smile and passionate eyes. I cross his path almost every day and it always seem to me I’m in front of a 10-years old elder kid. He pinches my belly or tells me a joke I understand every other time, since I’m still in the process of learning the Australian accent. I believe he owns the key to happiness and maybe, the secret for eternal youth.
Every day, Mick brings young backpacker groups to discover the beauties of Deepwater National Park. He must repeat the same old stories every week, but still, both times I accompanied him, his interest and physical alertness seemed renewed. Since I’m passionate about Mother Nature and its wonders, I drilled him with questions…
My new best friends are none other than… sea cucumbers! They emit a substance to blanket their small water plan protecting them from UV rays. Natural sunscreen! When assaulted, they squirt a whitish substance, which glues their predators’ mouths. This substance becomes a very hard thread resembling sinew. As a matter of fact, Mick has used it to repair his harpoon, probably like the First People of Australia did. If you stab a sea cucumber numerous times (?!?), it renews itself after only a few hours. Personally, I think it’s completely magic!
After our visits to the sea cucumbers, it’s time to regenerate. We swim in a river without anybody else, except, once again, the grandiose presence of the melaleucas. Here, they are in the water, making it antiseptic and really good for your skin. This water also tastes like eucalyptus tea. I look at Mick, he splashes me in the face with red water, we laugh and I’m just content to be in Australia.
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Video
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Akin!
Lire la traduction française
It is such a challenge to write about our lives in less than 500 words once a week. Many people we meet could have pages and pages dedicated to their marvelous beings and many incidents could be the source of inspiring stories. Anyway, here I am, a little sunburned after my first day out surfing, trying to share with you bits and pieces of my recent reality. By the way here, at the hostel, there is always a very loud movie playing, which makes my task even more difficult…Tonight is Tropic Thunder, and judging by Marc’s absorbed gaze and loud laughter, it looks like a good enough movie to celebrate the relaxing power of the screen after a day in the Aussie sun.
Let me introduce you more intimately to The Flat Screen. Our days and nights are lulled by its omnipresence, its sounds and images hypnotizing us for seconds when, drawn by its power, we walk by it on our way to our exciting everyday business. The Flat Screen sees lazy travelers’ faces everyday that, after many hours in uncomfortable buses, are seeking the well deserved mushy cushions of a couch. What makes this Flat Screen really special are the Masters of Ceremony that seem to inhabit its electronic space. Indeed, almost every time a movie is introduced in the DVD player, the audience has the joy of seeing two familiar faces: two men, both dressed in beige suits, wearing infomercial smiles. They occupy both ends of the screen, proudly announcing that the movie that will soon be showing is happily pirated somewhere in an overpopulated city of Thailand. All the movies also come with lovely looking Thai subtitles and all look like they were shot in the middle of an English foggy night. Or, even better, like if they would have been filmed by your aunt with her crappy camera last Christmas. We are so used to movie images having a certain cinema texture that we don’t even realized they look so different than real life. I never thought I would find it disturbing to look at Clint Eastwood in a “home video” type of filming. He just looked naked.
The best part is when these two Thai gentlemen, never leaving their legendary smiles behind, help you find “English subtitles” in the brightly colored Asian DVD menu. Have you guys seen the movie Stardust? It is quite a good movie, but for our Dutch friend, it just seemed completely absurd. Subtitles would come and go and, even more interesting, would tell a complete different story, seemingly taken right from a very bad imitation of a Samuel Becket play. I laughed so much. During the whole movie I dreamed of having a notepad to write down all the atrocities committed by the translator. But I could not leave the couch, too addicted at this stage to the next horrible line the bottom of the screen would dictate. There was this part where beautiful Claire Danes confesses her love and says it is so powerful that it is unbearable. For unbearable, we read “bury vessels”. And this other part where a prince was finally getting what he wanted and shouting: I’m King! The little white writings then said “Akin”. Can you imagine a whole movie like that? My story might not seem as profound as the others, but scientists say that for 5 minutes of great laughter, you get about 45 minutes of deep relaxation that will help you rejuvenate and live longer. I must have gained a whole year just watching that movie. Thanks pirated movie for this free quality entertainment!
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Video
It is such a challenge to write about our lives in less than 500 words once a week. Many people we meet could have pages and pages dedicated to their marvelous beings and many incidents could be the source of inspiring stories. Anyway, here I am, a little sunburned after my first day out surfing, trying to share with you bits and pieces of my recent reality. By the way here, at the hostel, there is always a very loud movie playing, which makes my task even more difficult…Tonight is Tropic Thunder, and judging by Marc’s absorbed gaze and loud laughter, it looks like a good enough movie to celebrate the relaxing power of the screen after a day in the Aussie sun.
Let me introduce you more intimately to The Flat Screen. Our days and nights are lulled by its omnipresence, its sounds and images hypnotizing us for seconds when, drawn by its power, we walk by it on our way to our exciting everyday business. The Flat Screen sees lazy travelers’ faces everyday that, after many hours in uncomfortable buses, are seeking the well deserved mushy cushions of a couch. What makes this Flat Screen really special are the Masters of Ceremony that seem to inhabit its electronic space. Indeed, almost every time a movie is introduced in the DVD player, the audience has the joy of seeing two familiar faces: two men, both dressed in beige suits, wearing infomercial smiles. They occupy both ends of the screen, proudly announcing that the movie that will soon be showing is happily pirated somewhere in an overpopulated city of Thailand. All the movies also come with lovely looking Thai subtitles and all look like they were shot in the middle of an English foggy night. Or, even better, like if they would have been filmed by your aunt with her crappy camera last Christmas. We are so used to movie images having a certain cinema texture that we don’t even realized they look so different than real life. I never thought I would find it disturbing to look at Clint Eastwood in a “home video” type of filming. He just looked naked.
The best part is when these two Thai gentlemen, never leaving their legendary smiles behind, help you find “English subtitles” in the brightly colored Asian DVD menu. Have you guys seen the movie Stardust? It is quite a good movie, but for our Dutch friend, it just seemed completely absurd. Subtitles would come and go and, even more interesting, would tell a complete different story, seemingly taken right from a very bad imitation of a Samuel Becket play. I laughed so much. During the whole movie I dreamed of having a notepad to write down all the atrocities committed by the translator. But I could not leave the couch, too addicted at this stage to the next horrible line the bottom of the screen would dictate. There was this part where beautiful Claire Danes confesses her love and says it is so powerful that it is unbearable. For unbearable, we read “bury vessels”. And this other part where a prince was finally getting what he wanted and shouting: I’m King! The little white writings then said “Akin”. Can you imagine a whole movie like that? My story might not seem as profound as the others, but scientists say that for 5 minutes of great laughter, you get about 45 minutes of deep relaxation that will help you rejuvenate and live longer. I must have gained a whole year just watching that movie. Thanks pirated movie for this free quality entertainment!
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
See His and Hers Video
Monday, December 28, 2009
Beauty
Lire l’original en français
Beauty
Beauty everywhere
Beauty, and you, who are in the midst of it.
For sure, sometimes a cloud passes over and for a moment, I lose the magnificence. But, it comes back with a vengeance, perfuming my entire life, reminding me of my luck and duty to be filled with wonder! I just love it when our eyes are bewitched by new beauties. Sometimes, we meet people whose eyes light up more and more every day. We learn to know them, their uniqueness is revealed to us and they suddenly are a source of inspiration.
When we first started our journey on the “Bruce Highway”, I didn’t have enough eyes to record every meander of the eucalyptus branches and every warm nuance of the melaleucas’ bark… Then, I lacked water in this almost completely dry continent. The grizzly and squirrel in me were yearning for the coolness of a fern edged stream. Suddenly, Magic... Just like the larva metamorphoses into a dragonfly, the landscape mutates into this food for soul, fascinating and bringing me a smile every day. When I go to work or come back from it, huge gum trees, with scattered foliage seem to take advantage of the little wind there is to choreograph the most beautiful dance of the moment. Their tall silhouettes emerge from the thin tall grass, so much liked by kangaroos and shatter on a shiny blue sky sprinkled with immaculate white mounds. I’m sweating beads of happiness from being addicted to this feeling of discovery, adaptation and fascination. From always being more than satisfied with my surroundings of the moment.
This feeling of constant happiness however, requires constant efforts, which I just love doing, of course! For example, to me, the expression “Our daily bread” is one with all the loaves I have to throw away every day. I was feeling so good in my bubble, far from the painful realities of the food industry … For sure, I bring some to selected close friends, but this town is so small, if I start giving even a small part of what we throw away, there won’t be any more clients! Every time, it breaks my heart. And there is the paper, which, for hygiene reasons, we must use to clean and dry everything, and the stinking smell of chlorine on my hands, even at night, and the non-existing recycling... Just like at the hostel, by the way. Being the good citizen that I am, I called on the council to enquire about the operation of waste collection. Reassured, I now ask my colleagues for their empty bottles and bring them to the bins on the beach. Seeing their reactions, I hope, one day, they’ll recycle by themselves… But, as mentioned before, it’s not enough to lose my enthusiasm for every new day life brings me!
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
Beauty
Beauty everywhere
Beauty, and you, who are in the midst of it.
For sure, sometimes a cloud passes over and for a moment, I lose the magnificence. But, it comes back with a vengeance, perfuming my entire life, reminding me of my luck and duty to be filled with wonder! I just love it when our eyes are bewitched by new beauties. Sometimes, we meet people whose eyes light up more and more every day. We learn to know them, their uniqueness is revealed to us and they suddenly are a source of inspiration.
When we first started our journey on the “Bruce Highway”, I didn’t have enough eyes to record every meander of the eucalyptus branches and every warm nuance of the melaleucas’ bark… Then, I lacked water in this almost completely dry continent. The grizzly and squirrel in me were yearning for the coolness of a fern edged stream. Suddenly, Magic... Just like the larva metamorphoses into a dragonfly, the landscape mutates into this food for soul, fascinating and bringing me a smile every day. When I go to work or come back from it, huge gum trees, with scattered foliage seem to take advantage of the little wind there is to choreograph the most beautiful dance of the moment. Their tall silhouettes emerge from the thin tall grass, so much liked by kangaroos and shatter on a shiny blue sky sprinkled with immaculate white mounds. I’m sweating beads of happiness from being addicted to this feeling of discovery, adaptation and fascination. From always being more than satisfied with my surroundings of the moment.
This feeling of constant happiness however, requires constant efforts, which I just love doing, of course! For example, to me, the expression “Our daily bread” is one with all the loaves I have to throw away every day. I was feeling so good in my bubble, far from the painful realities of the food industry … For sure, I bring some to selected close friends, but this town is so small, if I start giving even a small part of what we throw away, there won’t be any more clients! Every time, it breaks my heart. And there is the paper, which, for hygiene reasons, we must use to clean and dry everything, and the stinking smell of chlorine on my hands, even at night, and the non-existing recycling... Just like at the hostel, by the way. Being the good citizen that I am, I called on the council to enquire about the operation of waste collection. Reassured, I now ask my colleagues for their empty bottles and bring them to the bins on the beach. Seeing their reactions, I hope, one day, they’ll recycle by themselves… But, as mentioned before, it’s not enough to lose my enthusiasm for every new day life brings me!
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Stars and frogs
Read the French translation
Have you ever wondered about the bounty of secrets a cleaning lady knows about her clients? What intimate moments she witnesses when she works in hotels, what little treasures she finds and what bizarre objects she has to throw away? How she perceives the human race according to how messy the customers leave a room? For a couple of days, I was part of a jolly group: the “Swedish Girls and Stef’s Cleaning Service”. We knocked on backpacker’s dorm doors at 9 am…right on time to see and smell the joy of hangover and/or to feel that we did not necessarily belong in the vicinity…
There is a blissful breeze caressing my skin; I can hear the TV playing a movie and from here I catch a glimpse of the many foreigners all bundled up on a couch eyes riveted to the screen. Marc plays ping pong with our friend from the Netherlands, Marjan, and the Swedish girls, Anna, Louise and Johanna, are petting the dogs (who are fond of eating ping pong balls…). Birds, frogs, crickets and cicadas compete to be the loudest as night falls down on the bush. Soon I will go back to my home, 17 steps away from the buzzing of the little international village of cabins, and from the screen of my tent I will maybe see an owl on a Eucalyptus’ branch, with behind it a tapestry of bright stars.
We finally “settled down”. We fell in love with Agnes Water and Town of 1770 about 2 weeks ago. It happened when we saw how beautiful and friendly these villages were. And maybe I should add the welcoming of the dolphins, which swam two meters away from our picnic table on our first day. Then we met Rodney, Marcy and Breck, we kayaked with rays in a mangrove tunnel and we found a small restaurant where they serve…well, believe it or not, they serve poutine! I looked everywhere to find a job related to the community and through that I met other amazing people, like Phil the principal of the unique small school of the area. They would have had some work for me except that, we are summer… and like back home in summer, kids are off!
Sooo, 4 days a week I serve local favourites at a bakery, one day a week I work at the reception of Southern Cross Backpackers (where we camp) and I will teach Spanish to 2 friends 2 days a week! I will take my first surf and stand up paddle lessons and I will try to accompany Marc on the reef as often as possible! To compensate for not finding a job where I can better the world at every moment, I give all the smiles I have to the nice locals that come and buy bread! It is really fulfilling, and witnessing my accent changing is quite pleasant! I also make the French customers quite happy when I teach them how things are called around here…
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
Have you ever wondered about the bounty of secrets a cleaning lady knows about her clients? What intimate moments she witnesses when she works in hotels, what little treasures she finds and what bizarre objects she has to throw away? How she perceives the human race according to how messy the customers leave a room? For a couple of days, I was part of a jolly group: the “Swedish Girls and Stef’s Cleaning Service”. We knocked on backpacker’s dorm doors at 9 am…right on time to see and smell the joy of hangover and/or to feel that we did not necessarily belong in the vicinity…
There is a blissful breeze caressing my skin; I can hear the TV playing a movie and from here I catch a glimpse of the many foreigners all bundled up on a couch eyes riveted to the screen. Marc plays ping pong with our friend from the Netherlands, Marjan, and the Swedish girls, Anna, Louise and Johanna, are petting the dogs (who are fond of eating ping pong balls…). Birds, frogs, crickets and cicadas compete to be the loudest as night falls down on the bush. Soon I will go back to my home, 17 steps away from the buzzing of the little international village of cabins, and from the screen of my tent I will maybe see an owl on a Eucalyptus’ branch, with behind it a tapestry of bright stars.
We finally “settled down”. We fell in love with Agnes Water and Town of 1770 about 2 weeks ago. It happened when we saw how beautiful and friendly these villages were. And maybe I should add the welcoming of the dolphins, which swam two meters away from our picnic table on our first day. Then we met Rodney, Marcy and Breck, we kayaked with rays in a mangrove tunnel and we found a small restaurant where they serve…well, believe it or not, they serve poutine! I looked everywhere to find a job related to the community and through that I met other amazing people, like Phil the principal of the unique small school of the area. They would have had some work for me except that, we are summer… and like back home in summer, kids are off!
Sooo, 4 days a week I serve local favourites at a bakery, one day a week I work at the reception of Southern Cross Backpackers (where we camp) and I will teach Spanish to 2 friends 2 days a week! I will take my first surf and stand up paddle lessons and I will try to accompany Marc on the reef as often as possible! To compensate for not finding a job where I can better the world at every moment, I give all the smiles I have to the nice locals that come and buy bread! It is really fulfilling, and witnessing my accent changing is quite pleasant! I also make the French customers quite happy when I teach them how things are called around here…
See HIS view
See His and Hers Pictures
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