Snowboarding and the Art of Perseverance II: LYNCHMOB

Fall down seven times, get up eight.  

Enough said.

Me and my cousins on Coronet Peak, Queenstown:

QUEENSTOWN ROCKS!!

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Couchwarming Party!

Theme Song for the Day:

1. "Wonky Donkey", by Craig Smith

THE ARTS CENTER ARTS & CRAFTS MARKET

The mist in the streets of Christchurch today was a superfine drizzle that you could barely see swirling gently down from the grey skies above.  It sits on my hair and clothes like dew drops in the morning. 

We tour the Arts Center Market early in the afternoon and wander through stalls of hand-made merino wool clothing, carved greenstone jewellery, and beautiful photography of wild Kiwi landscapes.  Lunch is a spicy Lebanese Lamb Wrap from a street vendor, while my hosts and tourguides munch on a Czech Potato Pancake with Beef and Sauerkraut [I’ve never seen a Czech Food street vendor before!].

NOTICE THE DR SEUSS TUFTS GROWING ALONG THE RIVER BANKS

Hagley Park is 400+ acres of lush greenery that we walk through to go home.  A crowd is cheering on a rugby match as joggers bounce past us along the river, which is lined with willow trees and other Seussian water plants.  Ducks paddle and dive and waddle their way along the fast-flowing water, which is crystal clear and looks no more than thigh-deep.

It's a laid-back Saturday afternoon in misty Christchurch, and we spend it preparing for the party tonight; Marina is making chocolate truffles! Turns out last night that we missed the CouchSurfMeet by a day - it was on Thursday, not Friday - so Matt and I commiserated by sampling a couple rounds of the bubbly drink specials before Marina joined up with us an hour later after her work event.  When life gives you lemons, make ...sparkling wine!

After-drinking food is good here: the souvlaki joint was unexpectedly closed so we found a good Chinese take-out place right across the City Square.  This one even sold fish & chips ...apparently, not uncommon in these parts!

The festivities tonight are over at award-winning local musician Craig Smith's new diggs.  His new song, Wonky Donkey, won the 2009 APRA NZ Children's Song of the Year Award, and I am lucky enough to sneak a peek at the children's book version which is released in October.  

Craig is an easy conversationalist with a warm smile and a welcoming aura.  We swap stories about our respective journeys and find that we have walked similar paths: a few years ago, he closed up shop - after running his own business in sales and marketing for ten years or so - to feed his soul and pursue his music, and hasn't been happier ever since.

Craig also happens to be the Couchsurfing Ambassador for Christchurch which means that tonight I meet more locals, as well as fellow Couchsurfers from France, Germany, Canada, and LA... and, believe it or not, met someone whose Mum may have worked with my Mum in the Dole Pineapple Cannery in Hawaii... !  

I *HEART* Couchsurfing.

The world lies in the hands of those who have the courage to dream and to take the risk of living out their dreams - each according to his or her own talent."

-Paulo Coellho-

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In Search of the Great Aussie/Russian Monkeyman...

There is a local myth of an Apeman roaming the Noosa hinterlands.

I went in search of this mythical creature, and narrowly escaped with my life...

World Thong Throwing Championships!

Theme Song of the Day:

1. "King of the Mountain", by Midnight Oil

STAY TUNED FOR THE COMPLETE EPISODE...

On Sunday I was lucky enough to be included in the field of international competitors for the 30th Annual World Thong Throwing Championships as part of the King of the Mountain Race at Pomona in the Noosa Hinterlands.

The competition was fierce, with the former Junior Champion making an impressive return after a twenty-year absence.  The American Champ even flew 22 hours non-stop to be Pomona in time for the event, and late in the day controversy erupted as rumors of performance-ehancement usage led to random drug-testing...

My training and technique was clearly lacking, leading to an early elimination at the hands of an intimidating curly-haired-eight-year-old [you can catch a glimpse of him in the  trailer].  Luckily, my uncle was on hand to put on a good showing for the Lynches, beating out the eight-year-old's throw by a few inches.

Stay tuned for the complete webisode to be posted soon!

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Tasmania: Day 2 - The Tasman Penninsula

Theme Songs for the Day:

1. Oompa Loopma Remix, by G-Penguin
2. O Fortuna, composed by Carl Orff

THE TASMAN PENNINSULA
1 1/2 - 2 HOURS' DRIVE EAST FROM HOBART

I love the smell of coffee and chocolate in the morning.

It is the Breakfast of Champions, and for my money, certainly beats that other breakfast of champions and artistic types all over the world: coffee and a cigarette.

Ahhhh chocolate.... food for the soul...

O, chocolate, how do I love thee, let me count the ways...


THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY:

As we drove around the neighborhood last night looking for someplace to park the campervan, I kept spotting purple roadsigns reading "CADBURY" in that delicious cursive font that graces their chocolate bars. It was only because of the better judgement of my navigator that we did not camp out in the parking lot of the Cadbury Chocolate Factory, just 4km up the road from the caravan park.

THE MORNING VIEW FROM

"TREASURE ISLAND" CARAVAN PARK

I walk along the dark waters in the cold morning to stretch sleep-twisted muscles, backlit clouds roll in overhead, while a wispy white cloudbank sweeps over a craggy rock face looming in the distance behind me.

This morning's mission is simple: get to the Chocolate Factory for a chocolatey morning meal with the fabled Oompa-Loompas, excuse me, "Little People" as they preferred to be called in this part of the world. There are no Little People to be seen anywhere on the premises and I use my Sherlock Holmes skills to deduce that they must be nocturnal, like so many other species of unique Aussie fauna.

The "tour" turns out to be a 30-minute audio/video presentation about the history and processes of the factory [who knew that chocolate is not fattening when consumed on a Thursday!?], Willy Wonka was not there [in fact I was nearly thrown out at the mention of his name; he owns the other chocolate company that begins with "N" and ends in "E"], and apparently rivers of chocolate dow not run through fields of candy at this chocolate factory. I thought it best not to ask if we could see the Great Glass Elevator.

Insiders' tip: the coffee in the cafe is forgettable, but the hot chocolate is amazing!! Check out the vintage posterboard advertisement that reads CHOCOLATE SAVES LIVES ...and stop by the gift shop to buy $50 worth of non-fattening-on-thursdays chocolate for like twenty bucks...


THE ROAD TO PORT ARTHUR:

Next stop: Port Arthur. Once the most feared penal colony in Australia, in high school I read a novel titled "Come Danger, Come Darkness" about a teen who is sent there from England for stealing a loaf of bread and escapes. The novel captured the harsh conditions endured by the convicts, and the stark contrast of this brutal human place set in the swirling mists of the Tasman Wilderness. I've been curious to visit ever since.

LOOK CLOSELY: YOU CAN SEE
GHOSTS OF TALL-MASTED PIRATE SHIPS
MOORED IN THE SHELTER OF THE BAY

It takes about an hour to get to the first distraction - a turnoff to Pirate Bay, Devil's Kitchen, and the Blowhole. The photo on the roadsign sells me in 3 seconds to take the next turnoff, and shortly thereafter we crest a turn and hear angel choirs singing as the view reveals itself. Unlike fast food menu pics, roadsign photos and postcards never capture the majesty of being enveloped by a sweeping vista in nature.

The road winds down to the water's edge, and we are greeted with a different roadsign: "WELCOME TO DOO-TOWN". Twenty or so endearingly quaint cottages in various stages of ramshackle are clustered around the small harbor at the end of the Bay, with names like "MUCH ADOO ABOUT NOTHING", "DOO ANYTHING", and "DOO F#&K ALL" [sic]. Sheer awesomeness. There are absolutely no people in and around the town.

The Blowhole is suitably impressive, a tunnel about 80 feet long, with an almost perfectly flat roof carved out of the sandstone leading from the ocean to a small pool which surges with the waves rolling through the tunnel. From the right angle, it looks like a very miniature ocean that has simply appeared in a rocky outcrop in the bushlands behind the beach, complete with tidal wave action and all. The oceans are calm today, so now and then the Blowhole half-heartedly spits up a lazy tendril of oceanspray.

Five minutes up the road from Doo-Town is the Devil's Kitchen, which is what I am excited aboot [sorry, The Canadian's accent is rubbing off on me...]. Lucifer is out today, or sleeping deep in the narrow cave we can see far below, while the ocean feature he has sculpted through his kitchen sends a wave or two at a time rolling through the massive canyon sounding like a giant sheet of paper slowly tearing.

The tallest trees you see at the top of the photo at right are 2-3 stories high...a natural sink and kitchen bench can be made out from our vantage point, and there is a rock shelf that makes up the floor which extends out 60-80 feet past the base of the cliffs, where Peter later tells us that they drop straight down as deep as they are high.

We hit the road and cross the narrow isthmus [seriously, how often do you get to use the word "isthmus" in a sentence??] of Eaglehawk Nest, where a pack of monster bulldogs on shackles just long enough to touch each other once guarded the crossing so that escaped convicts could not get through. That's what the statue of a massively rabid bulldog said, and that's the story I am sticking with. It is said to be true.

As I coax the campervan through the twisting roads towards Port Arthur, I can't help but think that were I an escaped convict, I would like nothing more than to carve out a patch of bushland here and live off the land... The waterways touch both sides of the road in places, the eucalyptus grows thickly to the water's edge, and the afternoon sunlight streams through the gathering mists.

When the roadsigns finally announce Port Arthur, we drive past 3 empty parking lots before pulling up in front of the vistor center entrance. The tours range from half-day walks to 3-day experiences, complete with breakfast & dinner packages. It costs $2 for a brochure and there are pricetags on everything else in the place. This is not the experience I came to Tassie for, so I quickly decide to leave before they charge us for breathing in the historic air.

Besides which, there was a Tasmanian Devil Reserve that we passed on the way in that looked like a whole lot of fun.


TASMANIAN DEVILS:

Three words to capture the essence of the infamous Tassie Devils.

Ferocious. Precocious. Capricocious. ...nope. Let's try again...

Lost. Dazed. Confused. ...yeah, that's it:

I am told that they are indeed quite feral and ferocious when feeding, but the Tassie Devils we meet this afternoon may have gotten into the Koalas' stash of the good green stuff that makes them so rasta-mellow... These guys lope around their enclosure amicably with silly gaping grins and vapid eyes, pausing often to remember what they were doing again, then doing little circles before loping away, thrilled to be coming around the corner to meet us again. Hours of entertainment for the whole family!

We meet three Locals at the Dunnaly Pub that evening, which I again cleverly deduce to be the original watering hole for convicts who managed to escape and avoid the rabid hounds of Eaglehawk Nest.

"Have a beer mate, you deserve it..." and again I imagine myself as that escaped convict, this time sitting at the bar top relishing my newfound freedom and wondering, Tasmanian-Devil-like, what my next move is going to be.

Anyways, I ask these three guys where we can go to get a good feed around here before 6 o'clock, and I don't miss the glint in their eyes as they glance at each other before answering: "Awwww yearh, nuh ...the foodssh roooly good he-yahh....youse should staaay it'd be well worth itt.... we come he-yah ev'ry Thursdeee noight!!". They are pissed as farts [American translation = "quite drunk"], enamored with The Canadian's blonde hair and blue eyes, and very entertaining, so we decide to stay and have a couple beers with them.

The Locals promptly decide to celebrate by stoking the fire to keep us warm, and proceed to fall over each other stuffing the fireplace so full of oversized logs that it may qualify for a bushfire instead of a glowing hearth of embers. In Tasmania, they don't use a fire poker to move the logs, they simply kick the fire around with their boots. And plumbers' crack is never attractive, but quite hilarious in the right context.

Oh, and they make a really great drop of port in this part of the world:

A RATHER NICE GLASS OF PORT

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Chloe

YOUNG & JACKSON'S PUB,
HOME OF GRANDPA'S FAMOUS GIRLFRIEND:
CHLOE

The first time I ever saw a naked woman was at a bar with my Grandpa.

My Grandpa, Keith Lynch, owned the McKinnon pub [about 1/2 mile away from where Mum & Dad live today], and brought up Dad and his 3 brothers here; as a result the Lynch men are a very colorful bunch...our family get-togethers are always fascinating affairs!

The misadventures of the Lynch boys growing up in and around the pub would make for a great novel: pet snakes escaping into the neighborhood, unexpected overnight stays in the walk-in fridge, fast cars, and the girls next-door to name a few...but these are other stories that will be told another time...

This is a Grandpa Keith story [of which there are also a great many tales of misadventure], and I digress.

In 1985, the year before we moved to Oz, Dad took me on a scouting trip to Melbourne to prepare for the family's move the following year.

Grandpa was, of course, tickled to see his eldest son's eldest son come to Melbourne for the first time and took it upon himself to show me around. He booked us an all-day bus tour [highly recommended!] which included, among other things, a visit to Healsville Sanctuary to see a real live kangaroo, and a stop at Ferguson's Winery for lunch and a tour. breakfast that day was my first Aussie four'n'twenty meatpie [no the ketchup did not look like that on my pie]...

Long story short, after the tour was over and Grandpa had charmed all the ladies on the tour bus over lunch at the winery, he says, "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend", and takes me to the famous Young & Jackson's Hotel, across from Flinders Street station at the entrance to Melbourne central business district.

Grandpa sits me down at the bar, my 8-year old legs dangling off the barstool as I peer over the countertop, and orders himself a pint of beer, and me a shirley temple.

We sip our drinks and then raise our glasses to toast his girlfriend, "To Chloe!".... who is the 12 foot high nude oil painting hanging on the wall next to the bar!

"Sweet things do not go well
with a bitter Aussie lager -
Chloe is an exception"
-Rafal Zakrzewski, Beer Historian (2001)-

Today, the bar is different that I remember. My feet no longer dangle from the barstools, and I can lean over the countertop to order my own beer. Chloe now lives upstairs, overlooking the busy intersection that is home to Federation Square, St Paul's Cathedral, and Flinders Street Station.

I take a moment to myself today and climb the upstairs to visit her; she hasn't aged a day. As I hoist my glass to toast her, an old digger and his wife wink at me and comment about the gleam in my eye.

Here's to Chloe!

TO CHLOE!
AND TO YOU, GRANDPA...



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barber shop chair wars!

Defending Champ: Matthew Lynch, World Famous Adventurer and Travel Writer
Challenger: Lucie Voelcker, Germany's Travelling Poet
Score: Champ - 2, Challenger - 0

Round 1

Challenger gets off to a [very] slow start...


Round 2

In which the Champ demonstrates that he has spent way too much time honing this skill...

The Equipment: vintage cast iron / red leather barber shop chairs circa 1940s...reclaimed from barber shop on Maunakea Streeet in Chinatown Honolulu...

....I'm gonna miss these chairs!!!

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**Denied**

"DO NOT PASS GO. DO NOT COLLECT $200.
YOU SUCK. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Ummmm, so yeah. *Ouch.*

Access = Denied. Sigh.

I quote:

Sorry Matthew,

Your video application for Island Caretaker has been rejected.

Your application was rejected your video exceeded the maximum length of 60 seconds. [You Dummy.] (1 min 11 seconds).

Unfortunately applications have closed, but you can still be involved. Visit islandreefjob.com from March 2 to see the short-listed candidates and vote for your favourite.

Kind Regards [You Idiot],
The Tourism Queensland Team

So in all honesty, this email came to me within 48 hours of submitting the video...2 hours before the closing deadline.....after 2 months of "yeah I'm gonna go for this"....and I have only brought myself to write about it just now....

To quote another friend from the blogosphere who has inspired me:

"I procrastinate. More on this later."
-she-who-shall-remain-anonymous [you know who you are!]-

After putting my stomach back in its place and picking my bottom lip up off the ground and staring blankly at the wall for, oh, six hours or so [I jest...tho not really]...I pluck up the, ahem ?courage?, to watch the Short-Listed applicants that have made it for the wild-card voting...

Here's my shortlist of personal favorites:

Anjaan
because I love Bollywood accents...
Mieko
....gotta love Japanese Anime props.....did i mention I *heart* accents??
Yi
Austin Powers soundtrack + kungfu movie dub chinglish = WINNER.
George
...coz how fun would it be to watch a pale, beer-drinking, cigarette-smokin' Irishman livin' it up on the white sandy beaches of Queensland?!?
Manon
Once upon a time, we had a roomate who lived on our couch. He didn't move from the couch very much. At all. He became known as "Man-on-Couch"....his nickname when he was around became "Manon"....so my vote is Manon for Island Caretaker.
Kat
....hey, her video was over 1 minute too, how come she got on the short-list....oh yeah, she's HOT....shoulda busted out my bikini....
Felippe
this guy would rock!! seriously....vote for Change, vote for Felippe...not your average video application; pleasantly quirky!
Clarke
holy cow, this is talent...i want this guy's job....he really has been doing this stuff his whole life....


...which plants a seed in my newly fertilized creative mind....I had so much fun doing this....I am allergic to "jobs which entail working for others" anyways....so why not make up my own "job doing what I want to do when I want to do it" ...

...traveling and writing and blogging and making crazy videos and living and exploring and learning and meeting new people and having new adventures ....this blog was created to supplement my application for Queensland Tourism's brilliant "Greatest Job In The World" publicity stunt.....though that job it is not meant to be for me......

Which doesn't need to stop me from writing about my travels and adventures...

...I've always dreamt about being a freelance travel writer, sipping a latte in the kewlest cafes around the world as I tap out my latest story for Travel & Leisure or Esquire or Playboy...

....so here goes!

Prepare to be enthralled, amused, dumbfounded even by the shenanigans that shall ensue...[wow, spellcheck picked up "shenanigans"?!?]...flabbergasted, fixated, and frustrated....disgusted, demented, and debaucherous....ok maybe I am getting a little carried away....

Prepare to read about my upcoming journey and misadventures that will unwind along the way... and just come along to enjoy the ride...wherever it takes us....

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Later....I write to Supermom and tell her the news of my decision to create my very own Bestest Job In The World ....she promptly responds with an introduction to a family friend, who has been doing this stuff, quite successfully, for years.

And so the hunt is on for a cheap airfare that will get me back to Melbourne in time to grab a cup of coffee with her and pick her brains about what it takes to become a successful freelance travel adventure writer....before she heads up North for her next adventure on April 22nd!!

I am
...no longer
......here.

Matthew Lynch.
Freelance Travel Correspondent.
Wanderer.
Adventurer.
Photojournalist.
Explorer.
Filmaker.
Blogger.
Livin' Life...

LOVIN' LIFE!

Coming Soon to a blog near you:
"TheBestestJobInTheWorld".

Stay tuned.