1,473 Words on Vegas

You know that mostly-excited somewhat anxious feeling you get when something important is on the horizon? For some people it’s Christmas or a Birthday. For others maybe it’s a new job, or (for the truly unlucky) their wedding day. Regardless of the reason, I think that feeling pops up for most people only a day or two before this event.

My annual “important something” is the March Madness Vegas Trip. This year we’re “celebrating” the 5th anniversary (I say “celebrating” because it’s Vegas…how much extra could we actually put into the typical festivities?).

Unlike those other events I mentioned, that excited/anxious feeling begins every year for me at least two weeks before the trip. Inevitably I show up to Vegas tired and worn out because I literally go crazy for a bunch of days leading up to it. The typical symptoms are sleeplessness, lots of nervous energy and obsessive thoughts (lots of Vegas daydreaming). By the way, Neil & I couldn’t be more different in our approaches leading up to the event. He actually crawls into a hyperbaric chamber inside a cold, dark cave for 10 days to “rest up” and “charge his body.” I want the time to fly by so I’m probably guilty of doing too much over these days.

This year’s no different. I’m happy to announce I had my first Vegas dream on Sunday night, March 7 (10 days before the trip). Right on track, brain.

Actually, this year is a bit different for me. You see, I’m still unemployed, and while I would never let that affect my status for this trip, it is causing these final weeks to go even slower than normal. Think about it…what do I have to take my mind off Vegas? It’s not like some of the other guys where I can be assigned a project at work that will take up my time and distract me until next week. This week is the hardest since there are college basketball games on from 9am - 8pm, and the more I watch, the more I get the gambling itch. I’ll probably vomit one of these random afternoons from over stimulation.

My favorite Pre-Vegas tradition is for those of us going on the trip to annoy the shit out of our friends, families and loved ones who aren’t joining us. This usually begins at the three weeks to go mark. It’s unavoidable: whenever three or more of us are together, every conversation ties back to college basketball, poker, funny/ridiculous incidents that happened in years past, and random predictions for this year’s trip. We essentially alienate anyone not coming. I justify this self-absorption by remembering all the times I’ve been stuck around a group of women who just had to dissect hairstyles, clothes, celebrity relationships, and all that other B.S. I think we’re even.

We get so fixated on the trip that sometimes I’ll receive an email that simply says, “9 days.”

I’m almost embarrassed to admit this part, but sometimes in December or January, we’ll actually discuss, “when is it OK to start saying Vegas is around the corner?”

Well here we are…as I write this, I’m exactly one week from sitting at San Francisco Airport, restlessly twitching while waiting to board the plane. Or as we’ve been calling that day for years, “Arrival Wednesday.” In year one, we didn’t fly in until Thursday morning. We quickly realized it was a big mistake to risk missing the opening set of basketball games that morning (and also missing out on 14 hours of gambling from Wednesday night through Thursday morning).

To answer your question, yes, we have given names to other days around this time of year. Of course, this Sunday is Selection Sunday….not our name, but really kicks off “Vegas Week” since we find out on this day what the 1st round match ups are for the tourney (and I can start filling out far too many brackets). The Tuesday before Arrival Wednesday is known as “Transaction Tuesday.” This is the day where I go to my bank and withdraw an unthinkable amount of money, all in hundreds. The last thing you want to do is make multiple ATM transactions at a casino in Vegas. They’re already likely taking hundreds from you; do you really want to give them that extra $4-5 in transaction fees?

Suicide Sunday is the name we’ve used for the day we return to the Bay Area every year. Aptly named because many years suicide seems like a better option than the inevitable 2-3 days of hangover & withdrawal.

Without the permission of my co-conspirators, I am officially naming one more day: “Sit Out Saturday.” Without naming names, some people have had to “sit out” the gambling and/or the fancy dinner this day based on very rough betting performances over the 1st three nights. I’m pretty sure some participants have even contemplated changing their flight home to Saturday afternoon if things are really bad. In fact, if there’s a day where one of us might say something like, “you know what, I’m not feeling the games today, I’m gonna go lay by the pool,” this would be the day. And if I ever forgo a day of gambling to instead ride the rollercoaster at New York New York, I’m positive it would be a “Sit Out Saturday.” I think the veterans of our group have gotten very good at pacing themselves over the first few days…not peaking too early is the key to the entire weekend.

After five years of doing this, I feel like we’ve ironed out all of the kinks…almost. There’s still an ongoing debate over the correct way to handle Sunday. What’s the right time to schedule our flight home? A few of us decided years ago that it’s best to take the earliest possible flight out on Sunday morning (sometimes as early as 7:30). Assuming we have to work the following Monday, the thinking is that we get home on Sunday and have a full day to recuperate. We also won’t miss any games on TV if we get home early enough. Most importantly is that we probably despise ourselves and Vegas by Sunday morning so we’re getting out quickly. This sparks a completely separate debate: to sleep or not to sleep on Saturday night? If we have to be at the airport at 6 a.m., or even 8 a.m., and we’d normally be awake in Vegas until at least 4 a.m., do we try to get one hour of sleep? For most of us the answer is no. Saturday turns into an all-nighter. This has led to some of the funniest Vegas moments that don’t even happen in Vegas. Like a certain person passing out in the airplane bathroom at 35,000 feet one time. Needless to say, we probably still haven’t nailed the final 12 hours of the Vegas weekend. Luckily we have another 30-40 years of doing this to figure it out.

While I obviously can’t get too specific about some of the shenanigans that go on with our group in Vegas (since I wouldn’t be invited back ever again), here are some of my favorite things in a general sense:

-Extreme alteration of sleeping patterns - Some of us quickly adjust to only sleeping 3-5 hours each night; others don’t sleep at night, but instead take long naps in the afternoon; and a select few will stay awake for 30-35 hour stretches.

-Extreme alteration of drinking patterns - It’s the only time of the year where I justify drinking upwards of 12 vodka/redbulls a day (usually in between drinking many other things). It’s also the only time I can order a jack & coke at 9 a.m. and not get looks of disappointment from my friends.

-Extreme alteration of diet - How much McDonald’s, Sbarro’s and Subway can a group of adults collectively eat in four days? Come to Vegas and find out.

-The yearly blow-up between our group and the management/pit bosses of some casino (OK, that only happened last year, but really hoping it becomes a tradition).

-Purposely rooting against the team who has the most obnoxious fans in Vegas - Since I’m not loyal to any school that ever makes the tournament, I typically like to pick out the group of most obnoxious fans and directly root against their team as loud as possible. The three fan bases who seem to be the worst each year are Texas, Wisconsin, and Ohio State. Not sure why this is, but it is. Maybe it says something about the Midwest in general?

It took me a little while to write all of this so now it’s exactly one week until the pilot says, “Ladies & gentlemen, we’re making our final descent into Las Vegas.” So yeah, this will be the longest week ever.

The Final Blog? (No, you're not that lucky)

It's Christmas Eve Day in Melbourne. It has never felt so un-Christmasy in my life. At midnight last night it was a toasty 82 degrees, and extremely humid. That is NOT Christmas.

I'll tell you what does make me feel like Christmas time though... this completely sane person in his airplane:

Caught this guy (or girl) doing this when I walked out of my sauna & spa treatment

yesterday. He never wrote anything more than, "Jesus Alone." I was at least hoping for a 3rd

word that would tie everything up.

So I'm in Melbourne...

And it's not that this city is boring. Really, it's not. But how can I put it gently? Well, remember how I thought Barcelona was the greatest city in the world? Everything in Spain (and Europe) after that just couldn't measure up. I feel like Melbourne is getting a similar treatment right now. I've enjoyed Australia so much, and each destination has been so amazing, that Melbourne is playing from behind and there's no way it's gonna catch up. If I had started my trip in Melbourne?? Yeah, maybe that would affect my opinion. But after Sydney, a 5-day surf adventure, enjoying Byron Bay (the coolest small beach town in the world), Fraser Island, sailing on the WhitSundays, and getting scuba certified...how can you live up to all that? Also the fact that I am so close to being out of money & can't justify taking day trips to the cool places outside of Melbourne is affecting this final destination.

Speaking of Diving, I did indeed get my open-water certification...so watch out Paul McCullough, Navy SEAL, I'm coming for you:

So I've walked into 2 casinos in the last 4 days and I am extremely proud to say that I haven't made a single bet. Sure, it's mostly because of the aforementioned money situation, but still, that's progress. I actually played in a no-money poker tournament at my hostel's bar in Melbourne on Tuesday and I will spare you all the details, but I found myself wanting to sneak into the girl's room who did the most damage to my stack and just stand over her with my Dingo Knife in my hand. Just saying, it was a bad beat.

Speaking of my birthday (Oh, we weren't speaking about that?), my very nice, new friends on the diving boat had the chef make a cake for my birthday, and then back on the mainland that night, a few of us went out to an authentic Greek dinner. I'm thankful there are no pictures because a Polish guy (who's name I barely knew) convinced the professional Greek dancer to drag me out of my seat and make me belly dance with her in front of the whole restaurant. Again, grateful for no photographic evidence.

Let's see...what else...really emptying out the notebook as I don't have much to say about Melbourne or my last couple days.

Oh, there was a Christmas-related trivia night in the hostel bar yesterday. I decided to be on a team by myself for a couple reasons. Mostly because I convinced myself that I know Christmas so well I would enjoy the $50 bar tab (winning prize) alone. Wow that sounds incredibly sad.

Here are some sample questions:

-How many elves does Santa have working for him?

-Can you eat an actual Christmas tree without getting sick?

-Santa Claus was not originally red. What color was he?

-Does Scotland celebrate Christmas?

-During Christmas shopping, how many times per minute is a Visa card swiped? (multiple choice)

-What is the most popular Christmas song?

-When was the first Christmas card sent? (multiple choice)

Is it me or are these the vaguest, sketchiest trivia questions in history? How many elves does Santa have according to whom? Anyway, I think I came in 9th place out of 13 teams, not a great showing.

I will admit that I haven't met as many people to hang out with at this hostel as most of the others. I think it's for 2 reasons. First, this hostel has an unusually large number of "regulars," meaning people who have been here 1 month, 6 weeks, or maybe 3 months. And they are all quite cliquey with each other. And second, I got here with only a few days left on my journey. It's safe to say my effort on making friends has dwindled to an all-time low. It really is hard work. Try it yourself. Over the next 2 months, try to make 100 new friends. See how hard it is. Unless you're Mat Loving (and willing to wear awkward spandex 1-piece suits to get people to like you), I don't see it happening.

I have a question. Why are people always fascinated with Chinatowns? Aren't they all the same? Is there really anything to do or see unless you want to eat at a restaurant there? I've never understood why each city's "Chinatown" is a focal point for tourists. Anyway I think I'm rambling now because it's raining and I don't want to leave the hostel.

I think the coolest thing I'll be doing tonight is throwing away a shit load of stuff I no longer need. It's gonna be so fun to empty out as much of my backpack as possible. Crappy backup sandals that keep giving me blisters....see ya later!

I do believe there will be 1 final travel blog, though it won't be posted until I get back to SF... mostly because I don't intend to write it until I'm flying home tomorrow.

Finally, I just want to say that I fly at 1pm Melbourne time from here to Sydney tomorrow, and then I fly directly from Sydney to SF. If anything should happen to my plane on that flight to SF, do not bother with typical search & rescue procedures. Simply pop in Season 4 of "Lost" and watch carefully on how to get to the island. That's where I'll be.

The Lone American?

(Editor's Note: This would have been posted last Tuesday if I could have found a halfway

decent internet connection. Better late than never I suppose.)

I’d like to start this post off like so many others…with a bitching session. Target #1 today is the Greyhound Bus Company. I’m currently on my final bus ride in Australia: 11 hours from Airlie Beach to Cairns. The other 2 long Greyhound rides have been 11 hours & 12 ½ hours. That’s over 34 hours of bus time up the East Coast of Australia, which would be fine if most of that time was dedicated to, you know, driving. Unfortunately it feels like almost 10 hours of that time have been wasted on bathroom breaks & meal stops. The worst part is that at most of these 45-minute stops the majority of the passengers stay on the bus. So my request is simple (and has been echoed by other travelers I’ve talked to). Please sacrifice as much of the non-driving time for more driving time, thus getting everyone to their destinations quicker. Buses are not comfortable over long periods of time; I don’t think anyone would have a problem with shorter rides. Someone made the case to me that maybe the scheduled breaks are for older people, who may have to go to the bathroom more often and eat on schedule. Well I haven’t been on one bus with a person over the age of 35 yet. So there.

Also, Greyhound, if you could possibly update your movie selection so I don’t have to watch Renee Zelwegger as a corporate bigwig try to ruin a small Minnesota town while also falling in love with a character played by John Mellencamp…that would be great. (Side note: I wrote the above 5 days ago on the bus, which promptly broke down after I wrote it, getting us to Cairns 1 hour, 40 minutes late. I rest my case.)

On to complaint #2. Even the shittiest hostels I stayed in in Europe were never enough to ruin my time or keep me angry. But since I just left a hostel in Airlie Beach (Koala’s Beach Resort) that nearly achieved both of those goals, I thought I’d finally unleash “Ross’s Official Hostel Rating Formula” (ROHRF). With the ROHRF, the higher a hostel scores, the worse it is. Here we go.

Starting at 0:

-Check-in/Reception hospitality: add a point for each minute (after the first 5) that you have to wait in line to check in while the receptionist is obviously ignoring the customers to gossip with her fellow employee instead. Also, 5 more points for each time an employee is inexplicably rude or snooty with you. (In Koala’s case, that would be 17 + 15, and I would have used a much more offensive word than snooty if certain people weren’t reading this)

-Random hostel rules: add 10 points for every random hostel rule that serves no purpose other than their own laziness. (For Koala that’s a +10 for the “we only open up luggage storage once per hour on the hour“ rule)

-Room cleanliness: 3 points for each ominous stain on the bed sheets/pillowcase (12 more for Koala), + 0.01 for each grain of sand found on supposedly “clean” bed sheet (+20 for Koala), and finally add 15 points for each lizard you see running around inside the room. (30 more points for Koala)

-Kitchen: This is a subjective portion of the ROHRF where 0 points = large, clean kitchen with working appliances and ample dishware. Based on that, Koala would get a +50 for their disgusting excuse for a kitchen (just wish I had known that before I bought a bunch of food to cook).

-Theft: Speaking of kitchen, tack on 30 points for each item of your food that is stolen out of the kitchen by most likely drunk idiots. (Koala= +60 because of my missing Doritos & grapes)

-Internet availability: Take the percentage of non-working computers at the hostel and add that number in points. (Koala had 7 computers in their lobby, all with “out of order” signs on them. So that’s 100% non-working, +100 points) And just because I’m in a foul mood, add 40 points for lack of wireless internet availability .(40 more for Koala)

I’m sure I’m forgetting some components, but I think you get the point. The Koala Beach Resort would score an astounding 354 on the ROHRF. No hostel I’ve stayed in scored above a 162. So yeah, won’t be going back there. Luckily out of my 4 days in the Airlie Beach/WhitSundays area, I was on a boat for 2 nights, so only had 2 nights in this atrocity.

Ahh, and now to ANOTHER complaint (I promise I’m enjoying Australia more than you can imagine). Am I the only gosh darn American in this country? That’s a serious question, no exaggerating. Out of 60 passengers aboard the Atlantic Clipper sailing for 3 days/2 nights around the WhitSundays, I was the ONLY AMERICAN. I’ve already had to say that about the 5-day surf adventure & the Fraser Island Safari. I’m not upset because I really want to interact with Americans. I’m upset because you people are missing out on greatness.

So here’s my quick public service announcement for all Americans. Come to Australia. Specifically come to Airlie Beach, where you can’t swim in this:

Because of these:

So they invite you to swim here instead:

Or, if lying around a refreshing lagoon all day isn’t your cup of tea, get on a boat. There are hundreds of them:

And hang out with other cool Americans, like this guy:

If you happen to land on the Atlantic Clipper…

…With the above cool guy, here are some of the fun things in store:

One of the most breath-taking views & beach probably in the entire world. No, the entire universe:

And the on-beach view:

From the beach, climb around the rocks & cliffs:

Just be careful…no matter what part of the ocean you want to swim in around the WhitSundays, you’re gonna be wearing a stinger suit:

Over the 3 days, you’ll have several chances to scuba dive and/or snorkel. I snorkeled, didn’t dive because that comes later in the trip. For obvious reasons I don’t have pictures of the snorkeling adventure. I will say that I was beyond impressed with my first time snorkeling. It’s like putting your face in the water and getting a sneak peek into a different world.

And when you get back to the boat, surprise! They have a water slide dropping you into the ocean set up:

Did I mention you get stuffed into very tight living quarters with 2 other people?

No worries. You probably aren’t spending more than 5 hours a night in that tiny room.

If you’re really lucky, 2 more cool things will happen on this trip. First, the boat will drive directly west during a sunset:

And you’ll see something in the water that will blow your mind. For me, it was the dolphin that showed off for us for 40 minutes on the 2nd night:

I apologize for the crap picture, but it’s the best I could do (I swear you should be able to see a grayish blur in the water). If I had left Australia without seeing either a dolphin or a kangaroo, I would have called the trip a failure. Luckily I don’t have to do that. But seeing a kangaroo really would seal the deal on my love of Australia. Kangaroos, you have exactly 1 week to show yourselves.

One final thing regarding the WhitSunday experience. Your boating adventure is not complete until you go to the after party back on Airlie Beach the night your trip ends. Here and only here will you get to see the skipper (this guy):

…Get so incredibly bombed that he has conversations like this with you:

-Johno (his real name): Hey…HEY, you were on my boat right?

-Ross: Yeah, the Clipper. Had a great time, thanks.

-Johno: No, thank you…it was…it was (staring at his drink, forgetting he’s talking to someone)…it was a great trip because of all you.

-Ross: Well, I thought you & the rest of the crew showed us a great time.

-Johno: Ahh my crew. They are great, aren’t they?

-Ross: And a great boat too.

-Johno: She’s an old boat, a good boat….ahh, we’ve been through some times together. You know, I think she might be the best damned boat in Airlie Beach. She does all the work, really makes me look good…just like an older, experienced woman in bed.

-Ross: (now scanning the bar trying to figure out a quick out from this conversation) Well, either way, good times.

-Johno: Hey, can I buy you a rum & coke?

-Ross: I’d never object to that.

-Johno: Bartender, can you make it 4 instead of 3?

-Ross: That’s too nice of you, thanks again.

-Johno: Yeah, well, I’m only buying you a drink because I’m pretty drunk & they only cost me $1 instead of $6.

-Ross: (grabs drink) Wow, Johno, you sure know how to make a guy feel special.

(Luckily Johno sees a hot girl near him…I’m officially excused from his presence)

I swear I’m ending this post soon. I’m currently in Cairns, and just finished my Scuba diving certification course. Diving was easily the best thing I did in Australia, assuming my still-plugged up ear turns out not to be a busted eardrum. I will leave the detailed diving stories for when I get back.

Final 2 bonus pictures… 1). I’m glad I have enough money not to be these guys:

And 2). This picture was on the ground at the Airlie Beach bus stop. Confusing at best, but I guess, uh, go Norway?

A final question for my readers. How sad are you that my traveling, and therefore my travel blog, is coming to an end in just a few days? Be honest...

Survivor: Fraser Island

I'm happy to report I survived the 3-day excursion on Fraser Island. I won't be able to do the adventure justice through this post. It was simply incredible, like nothing I've ever done before. In a broad sense, it was like a combination of the major themes from "Survivor," "The Amazing Race," "Lost," and Lord of the Flies. I'm not exaggerating. It was 8 strangers in a suped up Land Rover, left to fend for ourselves with minimal supplies (Survivor). We were given an itinerary telling us where we had to go on the island and at what time we should arrive (The Amazing Race). And within our group, there was drama, power struggles, arguing over certain decisions, and constant changes in leadership (Lost, Lord of the Flies). Let's take it from the top...

On Sunday night when we had our meeting to discuss the 3-day trip, I quickly realized I was the only native English-speaker in our group of 8. Usually not a big deal, but when they are going over very specific details on the itinerary, places not to go on the island, how to drive the car & car maintenance, and the logistics of setting up camp, it would be nice to have even 1 other person in my group understand what's going on. It looked like I was getting forced into the "Aaron Role," where I'd be the most knowledgeable about all the logistics, especially with the car. It is NEVER a good thing when I'm the most knowledgeable car person in a group.

On Monday morning at 7:30 we finally got our vehicles:

Beautiful color all around. After a quick stop at the grocery store & bottle shop for all of our food/drink needs, we were off to catch our boat over to the island, with me attempting to drive on the left side of the road for the first time ever.

But then in a nearly trip-altering twist, the transport authority inspectors grounded our pink vehicle due to a non-working emergency brake.

I say nearly trip-altering because had we missed the 10:15 ferry a huge chunk of our 1st day would have been lost. Luckily the company we signed up with was able to get a working pink truck to us just in time.

After a 40-minute ferry ride over to the island...

we were off to our first 2 destinations. I was driving first on the island since I might have been the only one to understand instructions such as "make sure the wheels and transmission are in 4WD mode before you get to the island," and "take the tire pressure down to 25psi before you start driving on the sand." First stop was just to fill up our 22-liter jug of water, and then 10km of extremely tough sand driving later, we were at Lake McKenzie for some hours of relaxation.

During lunch at the lake, I realized there were only 2 words I could understand from the Italian guys: "spaghetti" and "dingoes." They were obsessed with finding dingoes on this island. The rest of day 1 was a bit uneventful as we just had to make our way through the island, up a small stretch of beach to our camp site for the night.

This next picture is a bit hard to see, but I think it's worth showing.

It is indeed a package of toilet paper on top of a shovel. This is because if we ever needed to go to the bathroom we had to dig a 50cm deep hole, do our business, and then cover the hole with sand. Apparently there aren't many bathrooms on the island and everything needs to be buried so the dingoes don't get after it.

The next morning we were up at 6am for 2 reasons: 1) Our itinerary suggested we be driving by 7am, and 2) As soon as the sun rises the temperature in our tent hits about 150 degrees...impossible to sleep through. Day 2 was all beach driving, no inland tracks. The beach driving was much easier...

...except for the occasional plane that would land right where we were driving.

Against our better judgment we finally let the girls do some driving on Day 2. This one almost hit a tree within 4 seconds of starting the car:

We checked out 3 very cool areas of the island on day 2. First was Eli Creek, a small body of water running through a natural rain forest area into the ocean.

Next was the Maheno shipwreck. I know nothing about the history of this ship or how it got on Fraser Island, but it was fun to look at and walk around near it. It is apparently deteriorating more & more each year.

Did I mention the size of the jellyfish that were washing up on shore yet? Friggen huge.

Speaking of jellyfish, the reason you can't go swimming in the ocean on Fraser Island is because of some deadly jellyfish and thousands of tiger sharks that hang out near the coast.

Our final destination for the day was the Champagne Pools. This is the only saltwater swimming area on the island, where waves from the ocean slam against rocks and spray water into these pools.

It was during this time near the Champagne Pools that we had the mini-crisis of running out of water. It was extremely hot and there was no place to get fresh water anywhere near us. Some members of the group nearly started to panic. There would have been more heated arguments on what to do if anyone actually spoke the same language. Instead everyone just stood around in silence waiting for someone to come up with a brilliant plan. Our brilliant plan was to drink water from a tap that specifically said not to drink the water.

There is so much more to share about the rest of this adventure but time is running short and I'm sure your attention span is too. We did see dingoes throughout our trip, but they never seemed interested in us. Not once did we feel threatened. As a matter of fact, on night 2 you could make the case that I was the aggressor in humans vs. dingoes. I was walking back to my tent alone and saw 2 dingoes in the woods. One was limping badly, so I started chasing after him with my flashlight & knife. I'm not sure why I thought this was a good idea, but needless to say I didn't get very far in my pursuit.

Back on the main land last night, everyone was pretty beat so we just had a low key night of beers, playing pool, and exchanging contact info. So I will leave you with some pictures of me & my teammates:

And for those of you who were able to make it to the end of this post, 1 bonus picture for you. This was from a "freaks & geeks" party at my hostel in Sydney, 2 weeks ago. I don't think I shared this with anyone yet. Enjoy.