Day 17 - November 22nd

If I recall correctly, I last left you on Saturday (local time). So my update shall begin with Sunday, where, after moving rooms (we were losing some people and consolidating for the last night) we set out to check out this Red Bull Air Race you've (we've) heard so much about. Now, if you think that Old Strathcona is busy during the Fringe, you're mistaken. If you think that Times Square is busy at midnight on New Years you are mistaken. There were (by unofficial count, a count not done by me, but by someone with more experience in counting) 600,000 people there watching. The entire lake/bay thing was surrounded. We managed to use our powers of pushing-forward-while-not-pissing-anyone-off to get decent seats, but, as we were on the far side of the lake/bay, all we got to see were the airplanes and not see the times. Which was cool, don't get me wrong, but lacked the pizzazz of a sporting event. So we watched a handful and left for Fremantle, which is on the outskirts of Perth, and is famous for their markets. We had pizza and checked out the markets. They were cool, but, as I am already packed to the point of bursting, I only bought frozen chocolate covered strawberries on a stick. The coolest thing was the food market, which, as we arrived at the end of the day, was full of Asian and Baltic people shouting 'ONE DOLLAR! ONLY ONE DOLLAR! HURRY! HURRY! HURRY!'. So that was cool. Afterward we headed home and crashed and watched Phone Booth and finished yet another book. I took one last shot at the laptop and failed and sent it home with Brandon to lighten the load. Internet prices aren't too insane here.

Monday morning I set out on my own in downtown Perth. At the backpacker's lodge I found the nearest hostel, the number of someone that was road-tripping to Melbourne at the end of the month, and the number for that surfing place. I got my accomodations, and, with my passport duct-taped to my chest (kidding) I set out for a phone. I called 3 people: Shannon, who was prepping for karaoke :'(, Silke, the older German woman who was driving to Melbourne, and, as it turns out, was also nuts and asked way too many questions about things like my marital status and passort number, so I hung up. Finally I called the surfing place, who I booked for the next morning (6 45 pickup) and then I went shopping in downtown Perth, which was cool. I picked up a mini alarm clock, which is great, because with no phone, no watch (never have worn one) and an iPod that thinks it's four a.m. in April of 2000, I have no sense of time. I also bought a pair of sunglasses, as I wrecked my old ones. Snapped them, actually, as I was stressing out over being all alone. So I headed back to the hostel and crashed, so I could wake up in time for the surf people. I woke up before my alarm, which, frustratingly, I always do unless I forget to set it. Two hours later, I was with a young British couple and an older Swiss man and pulling into the tiny, isolated hippie town of Lancelin (like sheep's wool?).

Ah, surfing. It's an amazing process, and, according to the video we watched on the car ride, was the main weapon the Greeks used to defeat the Italians in some war sometime. It sounded like someone was clutching to some driftwood a la Leo in Titanic and caught a wave. Cool. Surf cavalry.

It's a lot different once you're out there though. I was on a big blue surfboard, which I affectionately nicknamed 'Get the F&%# off me!!'. I was wearing a big wetsuit, and I was all saltwatery.

Now, the thing you have to understand about waves is that there are four stages of waves. There is the ocean stage where they wobble back and forth and sometimes get big, but die soon enough. If you try to surf on those you look foolish. There is the broken stage, where they get all rolly and white, and by then it's really too late to surf them. The other two stages are the difficult part. They occur within seconds of each other, and, if you misinterpret one for the other, the consequences are dire. They are called the swell and the break. You can catch either in terms of surfing, but you must catch them quite differently. If you catch it on the swell, you want to be forward on your board, so you have momentum when it does break. If you are too far back, the break will come and you will be going too slow, and your surfboard will shoot out from under you, like some sort of tablecloth trick. If you want to catch the wave at the break, you have to be back on your board so the steepness of the wave doesn't throw you forward, headfirst into the ocean, usually with the sharpest part of your surfboard following close behind. Now both of these terrible things have happened to me quite often, but the percentage, after two days, is getting smaller, and I have gotten up on the board at a higher rate. I'm at 60-70% ish so far, but I started at about 20%. Well, I started at 0% if you want to get technical, but, really, who does?

It's a hell of a lot of fun once that percentage is up there, so day 2 was loads better than day one. Afterwards, you get back to the hostel (where it's essentially the surfers, a couple reception people, and the surfer trainees) at like 2pm and have way too much time to kill with nothing in the town to do and no energy to do it. Last night we played a myriad of sports, none of which everyone was good at. This cocky Dutch guy had been telling us all what a great athlete he is, so I busted out a frisbee and fired laser forehands at his 'area'. It felt good, especially after he criticized my soccer header technique, and proceeded into a full-on workshop demonstration. He can't catch a frisbee, and I kept throwing them right at them and really hard, so he didn't have any excuse that wouldn't make him look weak. Ah, vengeance. Then we played cards. Tonight, we went to the market and made a feast, and then played table tennis and then, some of the newbies (incl. a Canadian! from Toronto) played a little poker. Not for money, so it got a little reckless at the end, with a lot of 'what the hell's.

In Perth I am going to scavenge for someone else heading to Adelaide/Melbourne for a few days, and, if not, I'm going to fly to Melbourne for an ultimate tournament (hat touranment, see last post) on the second and third. The money is going fast, so I might have enough for one more adventure after that, but I think I'll settle in Melbourne for a while. I need a cooler place to rest my burned skin. I zinc-ed up hard today and my arms still feel like they are on fire. I feel sorry for the pasty-skinned Brits.

You all should write me more. I get lonely from time to time.

Miss y'all.

-P