One of the consequences of having to meet everyone you talk to is that I search for conversation topics as soon as I see them. This sometimes causes me to find connections in things that just aren't there. For instance, last week when I was in the airport I saw someone wearing a Pittsburgh Pirates hat and all I could think was-- ("we both have some sort of connection to Pennsylvania.") I also got overly sentimental about the woman a few in front of me who removed her shoes to go through security ("I also remove my shoes! Are we the same nationality?") Luckily I didn't have to use any of those simulating conversation starters- but I did meet a lot of new people while having a very eventful day.
My day played out as if I was in some indie film I'm not nearly cool enough to understand. I got an early ride to the airport and had a rather uneventful flight to Tasmania. I talked a bit to the teacher sitting next to me but my main focus was on her 5 month old baby-- Daniel. Harkening back to my successful walk to the airport in New Zealand I decided to not pay the $30 to take the shuttle and just walk.
However things didn't go nearly as smoothly. There wasn't a trace of a sidewalk and I was walking down a 4 lane highway with about 4 feet of shoulder. One of the consequences of this was that I would frequently run across flattened (or in the case of a gigantic kangaroo-- not so flattened) roadkill. I'm sure I looked ridiculous walking on a highway with a little bag rolling behind me, and many people were not so shy in telling me that I did. It was okay for the first two hours but then my shoulder disappeared and was replaced with a cliff. Luckily there was about 2 feet of concrete running down the middle of the road so I was able to walk down that-- unfortunately that started to slope and soon I was walking on a few feet of very steep median. I was just over 3 or 3.5 hours in when I heard someone shouting. Being focused on not slipping and tumbling into traffic I didn't realize they were calling out to me. It was a taxi who asked if I needed a ride. I said that I would be fine (as taxis here are so expensive) but he insisted, telling me he wouldn't charge me and he was headed into the city anyway.
Danny, the taxi driver, was from Liverpool. On the short journey into Hobart (I was so close!) he pointed out all the sites, and even offered to drive me up to Doug's house. I didn't want him going to any more trouble so was dropped off at the docks. I had barely sat down to rest for just a bit when an older man came off one of the big old sailing ships and came and sat next to me (note: how does this always happen?)
He asked me if I would help him win a bet. He told me all the boys working on the ship had bet going on who could get the most girls to wave and say hello to them. Supposedly a man named Dan was losing quite badly, so I played along and shouted hello to him. Leon (the older man) chatted to me for a bit afterwards and then went back on. A bit later another sailor came over and asked me if I'd like a cup of coffee (an offer I cannot refuse.) So that's how within 10 minutes of arriving to Hobart after walking for 3 hours down a highway and getting a lift I ended up sipping coffee on a old sailing vessel. I stayed for a few cups chatting with everyone before saying goodbye and starting my walk to Doug's. I stopped by a succulent shop to get a small gift and then made my journey up a path-- it got pretty steep. After another two hours of that my feet were killing me and it was dark so I was quite happy when I heard a car beep and saw Doug had come out looking for me (I felt a bit like a lost dog.)
I got into the house, met his chickens (who he refers to as "his girls") and then walked into the room where I was to be staying where there were about 100 balloons. I guess when he was in Melbourne a group of his friends got together and blew up hundreds of balloons. It was as if I was in an adult sized ball pit-- so much fun. Unfortunately they did have a dangerous side as the night before Doug gave his roommate a black eye while playing in them.
We went into town and ate at a Vietnamese restaurant with one of his friends who plays saxophone. He was a really nice guy who was really interested in what words we say differently. (For instance the word "fire" when said with an American accent we both agreed sounded much more like a call to action.) We went to a sort of get together and from there went with a small group to go eat gluten free ice cream sundaes while we discussed cultural differences among other things. I found out something there that honestly blew my mind-- in Australia there's compulsory voting. You get a fine and can be given a prison sentence if you don't vote. That's crazy to me, but really interesting. Sort of like my day and this tree's bark.
(I realize that wasn't a very good transition, but look at this bark!)
