Camfield Station, Katherine NT.

 

 

(the last of the back ordered blog posts).

The first thing that is hilarious about the title of this post is that although the station is technically in 'Katherine' NT, it is actually 380kms away from Katherine. That's just how BIG and REMOTE the Northern Territory of Australia is. The second hilarious thing about is that I am now working on such a farm, some 380kms away from 'civilisation'. By civilisation I mean Katherine, which is a town of 9000.

Even through the remoteness means I can't just go somewhere and be back in an hour (or in a day), the cattle station is like a whole little world. Not the mention the fact that its like a million hectors so there's plenty of places to wonder about (including a lake with fresh water crocs in it!). I went to check it out the first day we were here but didn't see any. This may have been because I was exercising an extreme degree of caution as I don't want and still want to avoid all 'dumb canadianism' that seems to occur to travels whilst travelling. Plus the closest hospital is well.....it would require airlifting.....which sounds expensive. Near the front entrance is where all the cattle pens are (which is for loading cattle to be sold, or moved, and unloading cattle newly arrived, etc). There are also some horse stables, then further along is the staff accommodations, the kitchen, outdoor dining area, the 'social club' (which is every day from 6 until 7), a couple of offices, guest houses (for truck drivers, pilots, etc).

When we arrived we met Marty. He saw us and came over to say hello when we first arrived. He gave us a little tour, and took us over to our house (that we are sharing with two young jackaroos), and then introduced me to the kiwi cook on her way home for Christmas. The cook then gave me a quick once around the kitchen, gave me a binder, told me everyone eats four meals a day and that I should try and not waste any food (move it along is the game here too!). The room we are living in is nice, is the oldest and probably most run down on the property. The toilets and showers are disgusting, but luckily the cook showed me her 'secret shed' which had a clean shower, toilet, washing machine and bathmat (I keep it my little secret).  As casual 'backpackers' I don't even think we make any sort of 'pecking order' in terms of where we get to stay, although I am the cook and I can make their culinary lives as I wish so they have to be nice to me. In actuality, the people here are great, really nice, friendly and well, cowboys who like to talk about cattle, horses, beef and cars. There is one other female on the farm, who is the managers wife (but her, the manger, and their 8 month old kid live in the house on the top of the hill looking over the property and so there isn't much informal chatty-ness between the two of us). Other than her, I am surrounded by cowboys ranging from 18 to 65. As they get older they get harder to understand though (I think it's the combination of Aussie accent and mumbling). Most call me Jessie, which I find amusing as well.

My job at the cattle station is the cook. I work when the boys work. This means I have to have breakfast, smoko (morning snack/tea), lunch and dinner made for them. This also means that I have to get up 45 minutes before them to make breakfast.....which has to be ready by 5 30....AM.  Smoko is at 9 30, lunch at 12 30 and dinner at 7, then i clean up my dishes (the boys clean their own), then I am off for the night. I can take a break in the afternoon.  Because we are in remote country, the stock room is stocked with the basics in terms of canned goods, meat, cheese, flour, etc. Not much is ready made (except for bread).....which is why they employ a cook full time. Up until this morning, I can safely say that I have never baked anything at 6 30 am before....nor have I ever baked Muffins, Scones, Potatoes (for lunch) and a Chocolate cake before 8 30. By 9 30 I had smoko of the table, and lunch half made. (for those interested, smoko was banana muffins, brownies (that I found in the freezer from the previous cook), scones with left over breakfast sausages and cheese melted on top, and some oranges, lunch was potatoes skins with left over corned beef (that I boiled myself!), veggies and cheese, and coleslaw, and dinner was bolognaise). I have eaten more beef in the last few days than i have my whole life.  But luckily because I am the cook, I can make my own meals (so I do), i can't handle the beef!!!

 

Things a city girl finds amusing about living on a remote farm.

 1) Mail arrives by plane once a week.

 2) Food arrives by transport truck one a fortnight (bi-weekly) for fresh stuff and monthly for dry goods

 3) The closest gas station charges over 2 dollars a litre for diesel.

4) There are frogs in the toilet.

5) A Frogs poo is half the size of my pinky finger (a fact I found out a couple of days after I got here...until then I thought we had rats....)

 

Things a city girl has learnt about people who live on remote cattle farms.

1) They are very resourceful.

2) They never stop working, and there's no end to the work that has to be done (including my job(s)).

3) They like beef. And lots of it.

4) Dirt is a way of life.

5) People must plan. Especially when the closest thing resembling a town is 300kms away.

6) "just around the corner" could mean 600 kms away, but, you will make three turns in that 600km, so I guess 'around the corner' is correct.

7) any farm smaller than 2000 Hectars is considered a "hobbie farm"

Coober Pedy, S.A. a.k.a White man in a hole

 

Coober pedy is translated from the local aborigine peoples translate as 'white man in a whole'. It is where 90% of Australian opal is mined. Australia is the largest exporter of Opal in the world, so if you're wearing opals chances are they came from a mine around here (or there, i guess). For anyone interested, currently the largest markets for bulk opal sales are (in order), China, India, Germany, and Russia. Opals are sold in three different ways, solids, doubles and triplets. The solids are exactly as they sound. They are solid opal and cost the most to buy, doubles have two layers (see? Very simple), the top layer is the opal and the second layer is dark backing (brings the price of jewellery down). The last type is called a triplet, and has three layers. The first layer is the black backing, followed by the opal (this time a sliver), and topped with a layer of clear quartz. You can tell a triplet is a triplet if there is a clear bubble on top of the jewellery. This is the cheapest way to make opal jewellery essentially because you are buying only 1mm of opal (compared to a solid opal which can be much much bigger!). As our Vietnam tour guide, Phat, would say "You get what you Pay for". To mine opal, miners first go prospecting.

The first thing a prospector does is look for a fault line. (The fault lines were created by a series of earth quakes a ba-zillion years ago). To find a fault line they essentially walk through the desert with two metal rods held in parallel lines. When the rods open that signals the beginning of the fault line. Once they've found the beginning, they continue walking (ideally through the fault line until the medal rods criss cross. This marks the end of the fault line. (Nota Bena: I can't remember if the crisscross is the beginning or the end of the faultline, so what I just said could be backwards). Once they've found the area where the fault line is they drill a 20cm by 10-15m whole to bring up the rock, sediment, and sandstone. The opal will be in the sandstone, if there is opal, and enough of it, the prospector turns into a minor and digs a bigger whole (this time 1 m wide) and goes down to inspect their potential opal score. They take a black light with them because opals glow under a black light. (Apparently this is the allure of opals in the Indian market, they glow in the nightclub, and also a way of telling whether an opal is real or fake). Oh yah, and the opal will be in the sandstone. If the miner decides that he (or she) wants to get at the opal they have two options. One, they use tunnelling machine to make a bigger whole (to become a mine). A very strong electric vacuum cleaner helps get rid of the earth (which makes those mounds of soil all over Coober Pedy). The second option (for those who can't afford the tunnelling machines), use homemade bombs and up to 1000 per day. Traditionally the miners wives would make the bombs at night, for the miners to take with them the next day (along with their lunch, it also explains the love divorce rate in CP, a short fuses are easy to make.....). The bombs used to cost 9 cents per bomb, but now due to new rules and regulations post 9-11, the materials needed for the sticks cost 9 dollars and require seven different licenses, meaning that the price of opals with increase and the 'little' opal guys are out of business. All the bombs are lit by hand. The bomb lighters follow three basic rules, 1)once lit, either leave, or turn on the vacuum cleaner (and walk about 7m away from the bomb), if you stay 2) open your mouth and put your hands over your ears (to be protected from the shock waves), 3) count the explosions. If they plant 10 bombs, they have to make sure they all go off. If they don't they have to go find them....... Once the mine is made the miner takes their black light and hand chisels every single opal out of the sandstone, then they are cleaned, sorted and sold. In Coober Pedy, there are 2.5 million prospector wholes of varying sizes. Tourist apparently fall into them while walking backwards taking pictures. There are tourist caution signs all over town advising everyone to watch out.

From the information provided above, one can probably guess that we went on an Opal mine tour while visiting Coober Pedy, a pretty desolate town 680 km south of Alice Springs. Coober Pedy is also known for their unique style of living. Underground. Why you say? Because underground the temperature stays at 23 degrees all year round (where as outside, in summer the mercury rises to 50 degrees C, and winter nights can go below freezing!). So underground is the best option (not to mention the savings on air conditioning). The first underground homes where old mining shafts, but now they are specifically dug to the specifications of the home owner. It's a pretty cool idea, but the only problem with underground homes is that the curb appeal is lacking. As my trust Lonely Plant book describes it, " with swarms of flies, no trees, ...   cave dwelling locals and rusty car wrecks in every second front yard, you might think you've arrived in a post-apocalyptic  hell hole" But the locals are friendly, from all over the world (literally, Germany, Scotland, Sri Lanka, Croatia, Italy,etc). Thereare also a Serbian Orthodox Underground Church, and underground Catholic Church and I think a protestant church (but I am not sure if it was underground).  It also drives home the aborigine translation of the town's name. They really are white men in holes (whether working, or living in them).

When we arrived in Coober Pedy (and after taking the MUST picture of the town sign), we went to find a place to stay the night. We ended up at  a place called Redeka's underground hostal were we got a room 6.5m below ground. It was really like a cave / bunker style and slightly creepy. I had to remind myself that this was just like sleeping in a basement sans windows or natural light, but it was still kind of creepy. In the morning we actually woke up with some of the ceiling minerals on top of the covers.....and it was  cold and damp night. I am assuming the proper homes of the locals have a bit better ventilation, the church we visited did . But it was an experience, right? The toilets were alright, although 6 toilets for more than 40 people meant that there were lots of traffic jams. The guy at the reception reminded me of an old country hill billy complete with proper outback rimmed hat and a long straggly salt and pepper beard and white tank top (called a singlet here). There was also a giant winch, which was really pretty at sunset. Also, the giant wench sits atop one of the highest points in CP  where you can see the whole town, plus the vast-ness of living in the middle of the outback. CP is also home to the Outback drive in, which coincidently was playing a film the night we were there. It was the facebook movie "The Social Network". Best outback big screen in the outback.

We left Coober Pedy bright and early Sunday morning (along with all out food in the Hostel fridge). Woops.

Woomera, South Australia

 

This morning we woke up in Woomera, South Australia. We were headed to Coober Pedy, but decided to first explore the tiny town of woomera. Like I said before, it's an old space science town. I am not sure if there is a standard definition to describe what exactly a 'space town' is, but still it's the best thing I can offer.

 

 Seeing Woomera in the day light made it clear that it was a town built in the 60s, even the bus stops had a night 60's art deco flare to them. It was also evident that the town was once much bigger, and perhaps more important, than it is today having its own swimming pool, three churches, a movie theatre (which shows movies every other Saturday these days), a couple of large playgrounds and the huge hotel (once the housing for the scientists). Not all the scientists moved out, just the foreigners left, the Australian National Defence department still have offices there (and I think they must still be testing things here, I guess the best place to test rockets is in the desert, right?).

 

 The city's past is documented in the heritage centre (which is also a cafeteria, bowling ally and souvenir shop), the lions club of Woomera supports the Woomera Missile Park, which is a park with left over rockets, bombs, planes and anti-aircraft machines in the town centre. It was really neat to see them all just there in the middle of the city centre assembled like a little park. It also drove the point home about the history of the town itself.

 

Along the way to Coober Pedy we drove 350 km through the outback passed huge dried up salt water lakes, which are massive and have a layer of salt on top of the sand. It actually looks a bit like snow. There was one where we actually got to park the car and walk around the lake. The salt crystal was impressively big and perfectly square. The middle of the lake also had remnants of the old Ghan railway that was moved to higher ground in the 1980s because lakes like the one we stopped at kept washing out the tracks. Walking to the lake (which was about 200m, there was also a old rusty car shell which has definitely seen better days).

That’s Serious Road Kill

Port Augusta to Pimba and Woomera, South Australia.

We weren't too too impressed by Port Augusta, i think primarily because it was bigger than the standard towns we'd visited over the last two days and we didn't feel like figuring out where everything was. We've grown accustomed to towns where everything you need is within a 5 block square radius, we're spoiled by simplicity I guess.   We decided to hit welcome centre for maps and a quick chat with one of the people there about the highway conditions and things we should know (like where petrol is, and where the last water stop is etc).We  then  ventured another 170 km north along the Stewart Highway to a small town called Woomera.

The Stewart Highway is long and flat. And is the only sealed road up the middle of Australia. When we turned onto the highway, our GPS told us to drive 1250km then turn left. 1250 KMs to Alice Springs! Take a 8 km detour through the town and continue another 600km to our final destination. Along the way we saw several road trains (that have now doubled in size and have fixed roo bars on them). In Port Augusta we were told to be careful of animals on the highway (and the highway has caution signs in five different languages),  and i noticed an increase in cars with roo (also called bull) bars.....used for night driving in the outback. It was here that I saw my first road kill of the trip. A cow. Yes, a 300kg specimen of road kill........most likely hit by a transport truck.......serious road kill my friends.....

Woomera is a pretty neat place, established in 1947 as a joint project venture between Australia and the UK to test rockets and missiles. It was here that Australia's first satellite was developed, and sent into orbit called the 'Red Stone'. The town later became the home to the European Launcher Development Organisation and then NASA moved in 25 km from Woomera to get some action in the space development going on in the area. Acutually, the Americans were here operating a deep space tracking station.....The whole town was actually closed to the public until 1982. While still administered by the Australian military today (and it looks like it too! Very military style), there is one hotel.

The Eldo Hotel. It once was the residence for all the European and American scientists living and working in the area.  Its organised into blocks and is huge! Very clean, very nice and very interesting, cinderblocks included. It actually looks like a 1970s university dorm. I was glad that there was vacancy in the hotel as the next closest hotel was 175 km away......

Tomorrow we're slated to explore the rockets on display at the Woomera town centre, and then head to Coober Petty, translated as 'white man in a whole' in the local aborigine language.

Broken Hill, Silverton and Mannahill. The Road to Katherine Continues....

 

 

Day two of driving in the outback left us 750 kilometers from Broken Hill, through an additional quarantine station (and impromptu pig out on apples, cucumbers, and a carrot all banned from entering South Australia), past Port Augusta to the small outback town of Woomera. We left the hostel bright and early Friday morning, did a quick twirl around the city, checked out the mines, streets off the highway,  and headed to a petrol station to fill up the tank for the long drive ahead. We also stopped in an outback store and I got a hat (yes, one of those cowboy hats that we were told to bring to the farm), some mozzie repellant for the bruuuuutal mozzies and a head net (for the blasted flies that seem to love smashing into one's head).  The hat is very comfortable and leather and well you know what they say about being in Rome, right? We also supported a small local supplies store and not a k-mart, which I think is a good thing.

After the impromptu shop, we took a 25 km detour to a small, ghost town called Silverton. The town made famous by the Mad Max movie and currently has a population of 8 across the hotel, cafe, mad max museum and a coin carver. Yes, a coin carver a chatty old man named Andy Jenkins who carves the back sides of Australian pennies (not in circulation, everything here is rounded up or down) and sells them as pennants. We stopped in to see the action and had a lovely chat with him. He told us that he'd grown up in Broken Hill and is planning on moving south once his wife retires. We stopped to have a look at the Mad Max Museum, and had a snack at the cafe. I had a spider, which turned out to be a coke float. I'm not sure why they call them spiders though...i should have asked, even if it meant i'd have to play the stupid tourist card.. the town itself was neat to see, although due to a lack of building materials in the area, most of the homes that once were in Silverton are actually in Broken Hill (which were moved after the boom-town of Silverton lost it's boom at the end of the 19^th century). They had a couple of other things to do and see including the Silverton Gaol (and old jail built in 1888, Australia was a convicts island after all), the Silverton hotel, and two very tiny churches. By tiny i mean enough to hold about 10 people.

After Silverton, we got in the car and headed west, stopping at a roadhouse for a stretch and a toilet. The town was called Mannahill and had a population of 7.  Outside the toilets, there was a sign for a roadhouse, selling goods, coffee, etc. It also said that the owners were having trouble keeping the place going, and that every dollar helps. We decided to check it out. Inside the Roadhouse there were three large tables, a little Christmas display (by the fireplace), and a small women behind the bar. We ordered some coffees and while she was preparing them, went into a tiny history museum of relics the women had collected from around the town. We later found out that the town used to be bustling when it was a train stop on the Ghan railroad, the famous and only rail line running from Adelaide to Darwin. The train stopped coming in the 60s and the town went from 200+ to 7. We were also told that recently someone moved into town and opened a refreshment shop 50 m from the road house and had stolen her business. From there we drove anther 150 kms through the outback, a road that is so straight that you can't see the end of it, and very very flat. At some points you could even see how the earth curves. The occasional transport truck livened things up...and towns were few and far far between.

After the coffee break, we got back on the road to South Australia, stopping only to have lunch, consisting of eating all the fruit and vegetables we were carrying that were banned from the state. It's funny because we had an impromptu fruit binge the day before when we entered our first quarantined area....I down two apples and a peach in 10minutes ....entering South Australia also meant that we were only 200 km from our initial final stop, Port Augusta. Port Augusta is the last stop before heading North, and the only place in Australia that connects to every point in the city.  En route we made a detour to elephant gorge, climbing a large hill overlooking the Flinders Range, and went to see a 500 year old Gum tree. Oh, and we drove through several swarms of lotuses, which in the heavy bits sounded like a mix of hail and pebbles hitting the car .After hitting a few swarms of them we could barley see through the front window due to all the guts from the lotuses. It was so bad,   It took us twenty minutes of DIY carwash scrubbing to get all the remnants of the bugs out of the car front.....

 

On the Road Again!

(this post is post-dated).....

Yup, 'tis true we're on the road again...this time via the great Australian Outback (which is unfortunately not the famous red dirt road....it's currently green because of all the rain this year). While the plans were to slowly make our way around this massive country (and continent), the tides have turned and a neat job offer on a cattle station has left us packing up the 16 year old 4WD and driving 4000 km through the desert.  Sounds like an adventure right?

Although I haven't finished (or hell, even started to talk about Vietnam and Cambodia)), I thought it best to skip through them and periodically venture into the world of Asian blogging in the future. For now, I must capture the now and with the help of a trusty laptop this can be done!

We left Sydney on Wednesday (a day early, which is why I haven't called home yet). We decided to get a jump start on the road to ease a bit of the driving allotted for the first day. It's good we did because it took us a while to get of the Blue Mountain Range west of Sydney. We brought a tent along for cheap accommodations (and a true 'outback' experience), and stayed the first night in Mudgee.

The camping ground wasn't exactly Ontario Parks style; in fact, it felt more like a trailer park to me.  We made camp in the 'grassy' open field behind all the semi to fully permanent caravans, which at first seemed nice as we were the only ones in the field. ....then I noticed the birds, then when they stopped attacking each other, the mozzies and flies showed up.  Oh man, by the time we got the tent pitched, a dinner half cooking we'd collectively received closed to a million bites, and I had more bugs flying at my head than I cared for. I think I few might have even ended up in the frying pan (We could barely see the food, and when it was done we quickly scooped it out, then inhaled it so we could get out of the flies (I guess the 'no food in the tent'  rule has stuck with me). Within 15 minutes of this occurring we were sleeping.......i guess when times dictate it, one really can get a move on....and one can suddenly become very tired at 9pm....

Going to bed so early i guess isn't so bad when one is awoke at 5 am by the very same birds that so pleasantly greeted us on the way in....this time the noise was like a symphony though, and while a 5 am wake up call is not ideal, the  Galahs waking up a sleepy camper is a much better alarm than the standard buzzzzzzz of my travel alarm clock.....we spent enough time to eat, pack up and use the 'facilities', then sped off 800 km to a small mining town called Broken Hill.

While the swarming bugs, moths and all things flying were enough to make even a bug lover nuts (is there such a thing as a bug lover?), the morning toilets were pretty interesting in terms of bugs.....there was one that looked like an ordinary house fly who ate an enlargement cookie from Alice in Wonderland. It was the size of my entire hand!  I would have taken a picture, but my approach to this sort of thing was 'do no disturb the unmoving thing, it has wings, and you don't want it flying at you". I told max about it and he told me that when those things get stuck in a mosquito electric trap, then tend to sizzle.....ewwwwwwww

Leaving the camp site at 7 am, arriving in Broken Hill at 7 pm, with a short sojourn in Dubbo meant a very long day of driving.....at one point the GPS said, "in 100 meters enter roundabout. Take third exit. Drive 547 kilometers"..... you could practically see that 547 kilometres in the distance (the road is THAT long and THAT straight). I think this is probably what the Canadian prairies look like....minus the 'watch out for kangaroos' signs posted everywhere.

In the 700 km between Dubbo and Broken Hill we drove through exactly three towns.  One, Nyngan, two, Cobar , (the first mining town on the route, copper is the name of its gain), the third town was Wilcannia.....I don't even remember going through this one....really...primarily because by 'town' they could mean anything from a small town to a gas station on the side of the road….then we hit  Broken Hill, population 18 000, home of BHP Billiton, the largest mining company in Australia. (this is where it started).  The town itself is quite large for outback standards, and we were excited to see a town after driving for 3 hours, passing exactly four transport trucks (called road trains here), and two other vans of backpackers. One neat thing about Broken Hill is that they have an art gallery with Picasso and a Dali painting (which is impressive seeing as it is about 800km from a town over 30 000 people, and all the streets in this town are named after metals. We stayed on Argent street (at a backpackers),  other streets included Silver st, Cobalt St, Bromide St, sulphide st,  and garnet street. Pretty cool I thought.

 

Tech-in-da-Bush

I (think) I've finally figured out how to work technology in the Bush....so they'll be plenty of post coming your way!

Right now, I'm thinking about everyone, especially those remembering Garnie, a lovely man with a kind heart and even funnier sense of humour. Mac-a-momo anyone?

 

So many people have contacted me asking where I was, why I was there and how did I get there. Easy questions with long adventurous answers, and so I shall retell them over the course of the next few days.....as I wrote them on the long drive up here (to where I am, which is the Northern Territory of Australia). 360 km from anywhere bigger than a roadhouse.

 

As an update from my end, in the middle of no where, things here have gone slightly mental. We had something like 15 people here for a couple of days (which meant waaaay to much cooking....having to make 30 and35 eggs every morning for four days was splendid ;)). really at 4 45 am... a greasy breaky is the last thing I want to see, touch, or smell.....I also have made some Canadian/North American things and had to laugh when I watched the aussie eat them. For example, Tacos. We had to explain to one of the guys what to do because he was dumbfounded by all the bowls of toppings sitting on the table in the kitchen. I think he looked slightly scared. Second, baked potatoes in foil (400 degrees, 1 hr Thanks Dad and Kelly!). Everyone looked at me and asked what to do with them. Then when I told them they were potatoes they looked at me like I hadn't finished making dinner, then took them out of the foil before putting them on their plates. I later found out that this was not a typical aussie thing . Then I made that famous 5-layer Mexican dip (you know the one with beans, and sour cream and cheese and salsa?). hehe. they ate it like soup, in a bowl with a spoon.

 

In terms of weather. We have been lucky that the flooding hasn't hit us. It's been raining and the yards are really muddy, but the heat of the searing sun in the afternoon usually wipes away all traces of rain anyway.

 

In terms of bugs. they are still here.  We was an infestation of flying ants/termites (that come with the rain) for a couple of days, it was annoying, but interesting all these ants arrived by flight, then shed their wings and roamed around. (of course, they didn't clean up after themselves, so we have ant wings all over the place). Apparently they are a sign of rain. It did rain for three days after that (including one massive thunder storm). The lightening storms occur almost every night, and they are really neat to watch because the farm is silent, but the sky just lights up like fire works. The storm is too far away to hear the thunder (or bring rain), so you can just stand outside watching it fairly comfortably…..last night was particularly cool because there were four of them happening at the same time (in different parts of the sky).

 

There are still lots of toads hopping around, but we have a bit of a toad cemetery on the main road of the station when Des, the truck driver came through with his transport truck. He managed to smooosh 6 rolling into his parking spot in the back of the 'camp'.

 

Lastly, I still think early mornings are evil.

 

So the next few posts will be out of order, recounting the 4000 kms to Camfield. Enjoy!

 

p.s. I would and should and wish I could post some pictures but the internet speed will not allow it. You'll have to endure more detailed accounts I suppose. Sorry J

Family of Animals living in my room

Farm animals are funny. Tropical farm animals are even funnier. Frank, the Gheko is currently living in my room on the ceiling. I am not really fussed about it because:

1) I am bigger than Frank.
2) Frank is afraid of me, so he won't come near me, or attack me in my sleep.
3) He likes to eat the other bugs in my room, including Mosquitos.
4) He can't get past my mozzie net.
5) He's cute and has cool hands and feet and very large eyes
6) He's quiet.


This morning I woke up with Frank on the ceiling (as always), but then max said the words 'Jess, don't freak out'.....not something I really want to hear first thing in the morning, especially living in the Bush.....

Turns out Frank had a friend join him in our room last night.....a green frog....hopping for dear life. Max got a broom and tried to get the damn frog out of the room but he wasn't a very smart frog and hopped around the room, tried to climb the wall (and failed, watching him slowly slide down the wall was kind of pathetic). Maybe the frog was actually the smart one because he managed to get two grown humans to chase it around a room, and was still alive to tell the tale.

My room is slowly being infiltrated my animals...and I don't like this at all.....

The sound of 4000 cows

This morning I woke up to a cacophony of cow calls. well, actually cow MOOOOOs.

the funny thing is that leaving my house to make a 5 am breaky, a feat that could only be achieved by getting up at precisely 4 :16 am, meant that I couldn't actually SEE the 4000 cows in the yards in front of me because it was still dark....but I could sure hear them!

For me, a city girl, my face to face interaction with cows never surpassed one, maybe two at a time, and only country road drive by's (where you wouldn't hear'em any way), this means that I never actually realized just how loud their moos really are. or at least the collective volume of 4000, 300kg pieces of meat are....the on the theme of animal noises, the toads don't make a sound, they just hobble around, afraid of all humans....the frogs could deafen a small child with their deep burping-sound calls. The ghekops are just cute. We had a whole mama, papa and baby gheko family living in our bathroom a couple of night ago! oh, and the chickens are just funny. they run around in pairs squawking at one another, looking like they are playing tag (or better yet, because of the arc of their necks, it looks more like one is peppy la pew trying to give the other one a big kiss, while the other one extends their neck so far the mr. la pew cannot get his kiss...).

Back to the cows. Normally there are not 4000 cows in my front yard. Normally (well according to the baseline normalcy from the 2 weeks I've been here), only the baby calf's (called Potty's or Potties), and the cows who need a little extra TLC live in the paddocks and yards in front of me. But because our station has a too many cows at the moment, they've decided to muster a few thousand to sell before the rain comes. We are technically in the rain season now, but it (the rain) hasn't started yet. The spent the first day mustering using two helicopters and 6 cowboys on motorbikes, yesterday they went old school and used horses. I walked by the lot of them as they were leaving after breakfast. It was such a sight to see six wide-brimmed hatted cowboys ride off into the sunrise on their horses.......if I'd had my camera with me I would have taken a picture, it was THAT cool.

On the menu yesterday was meatballs and pasta. Of course, as there were 12 of them, I made enough to feed 500 and am now drowning in left overs......I also made a swirly white and chocolate cake which was divine. Most of the cowboys seem to live savory things though (which is a problem because I don't, and don't know how to bake 'savory' things). But, experimentation is the key to success, right? Move it along is a mantra here so for smoko I made sausage rolls with left overs from breaky and puff pastry (the only thing that comes ready made here). I also made muffins (which were not savory so were not gobbled up).

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Sooooo... as most know, I am currently in the middle of the Australian Outback, about 900 km away from any sort of town bigger than 10 000. (the closest town is 360km away and it has a population of 9000).

I have been writing about my epic 4000km adventure to my currently outback abode, but slow internet and lack of technical expertise means that it's taking longer to get the posts here. on this blog.

BUT rest assured, the adventure from Sydney to Camfield will be told!

Anyway, so Christmas in the Outback. right. First of all, it didn't really feel like Christmas because it was 37 degrees. Secondly, 'Christmas' morning everyone gathered in the outside covered veranda and drank ice cold juice, sparkling wine and beer (yes, beer) for breaky. Third, everyone was wearing shorts and t-shirts, and were too hot for a hot meal. Fourth, because we are no where near commercial anything, there were limited decorations, carols and well the typical commercialized holiday cheer that I soak up every December.

But, there was still a little christmas magic here, Santa arrived with prezzies for everyone (I got some nice european soap (which my poor cooky hands appreciate very much), a bright pink tooth brush (with a timer!), and a present addressed to 'cooky' containing yummy Christmas delights. A pretty low key Christmas, but nice just the same! Boxing day was a sleep and movie day, followed by a driving lesson. then more napping, making up for the 10 day work weeks ahead.

Boxing day night 7 visitors arrived, meaning 7 extra mouths to feed. They're here mustering cattle to be sold in the next few weeks. This morning I saw them ride off into the sunrise on horses. It was pretty picturesque for a city girl tickled pink to be living it up on a 6-week cooking stint.

Hope everyone enjoyed Christmas wherever they are!


Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Jess (m.A).

Arabian Days and Nights

The last night that we spent in the UAE we decided to take a desert safari. Dune bashing at 50km/h with a driver named Rashid, One Canadian, One German and Two Danes was priceless.......especially since we were in a Hummer H2 (driving through Dubai in the hummer was actually more comical as the car took up two lanes!).

The famous peach coloured Arabian desert sands are located west of the Hat

ta mountain range, a large range of mountains to the south east of the UAE and it shared with parts of Oman (I say parts because the country of Oman is in three parts (look at a map to see)).

At any rate, Rashid came to pick us up at 3 pm, and we headed towards the mountains. We drove for about 20minutes on the desert highway before we finally slowed towards the meeting spot for all the other desert tour running that day. You see, while there are only four people in a car, plus the driver, several other cars take other tourists and we all meet at a bedoin camp for dinner and a show.

After emptying some of the air from the tires, and snapping some photos we got our first taste of dune bashing.....it was like a rollercoaster ride only with limited seat belts. While driving I found the accident log, the last entry said something like ‘accident, wheel balancing’. There were no other entries after that. As I was in the car already on the dunes, I thought it best to suppress the anxiousness that came over me and enjoy the ride.......so that is what I did.....of course, I would find the stupid accident log.....lol...

After driving up and over several sand dunes, bashing into the sand, watching Rashid the driver man the wheel we stopped on the top of a larger dune and brought out a snow board. That’s right we went sand boarding!!!! This was actually the only thing that I wanted to do, and why we ended up in the VIP Hummer Tour and not on the land cruiser tour. Rashid let the first two Danes go, and as they were going, I was carefully watching what the heck they were doing. The board was an old snowboard complete with the sockets for your feet, but we were all instructed to put the our bare feet beside the sockets. The first guy went, and wiped out near the bottom. Ditto for the second. Then I was up....I was slightly nervous.....got on the board, and looked at Rashid for confirmation that I had the position right...he looked at me then mentioned what I understood as ‘go, lean forward, look like a beach boy surfing’. From the pictures, you can see that I exactly what I did. I was surfing the UAE and it was fantastic.... for the 50 meters that I managed to stay on the board for..... When we booked the tour, max warned me that although sand boarding is fun, the hard part actually comes when you have to get back to the top of the sand dune. ..... in 40 degree direct sunlight, up an incline of 60 degrees, without friction is fun....carrying a sand/snow board is fun....er...the most intense workout on the planet. Really, this stage of the boarding is what decides how many runs one wishes to do....I ended up doing three....before another van showed up.

My last one was monumental though. Really. By this point I had the technique down to my version of a desert science. I got on the board, shifted my weight from the front tothe back, and a gliding i went.....then I hit a bump right at the bottom of the dune.....and flew into the sand. Head first. My mouth was apparently open too, which meant I not only got a face full of sand, but also a mouth full of sand. You can see on the picture of me at the top of the ‘sand run’ all the sand that was stuck to me (and my teeth!). The wipe out also commemorated a glorious rippage of my pants..apparently taking a face plant also calls for serious strain on the bums of not so travel friendly plants......the rip was right down the middle.....and I didn’t actually realise that they were ripped until we reached the camp (20 minutes later), had walked around a bit then realised that slight breeze on my rear end was a little too breesy.....I got max to take a picture so I could inspect the extent of the rippage...and it literally went from the top of my pants (where the belt loops are), to the middle of my thigh.... my pink and purple underwear was not exactly discreet.... luckily i had a second long sleeved shirt with me....for the cold 27 degree Arabian desert nights (to be fair, this is at least a 10 degree drop from the day time heat). I quickly wrapped it around my waste and the ripe was half covered.....it was THAT big.....

When we finally arrived at the Bedouin camp, outfitted with flushing toilets for us tourists, we were greeted with traditional Arabic coffee, dates and sweets. The coffee is very ‘thin’ but they add cardamom it, so while it looks like brown water, the taste is out of this world. The dates came from one of the several date farms in the UAE. Dates are grown in the Oasis’s, in palm trees. These were just roasted, without any additional sugars....yum....finally the sweets are deep fried dumplings that look and taste like a fluffy timbit, but they had a dark sweet viscous honey drizzled on them. It looked and tasted like a mix of honey and molasses...and those fresh out of the fryer were divine!

After our welcome coffee and treats we went for a came ride. I grew very fond of camels on our ride to Oman,when I met that camel on the highway (driving at 140 km/h). Camels are pretty cool. They are the perfect desert animal because they can actually smell water up to 20 kms away, only need water once every two or three weeks in the summer, and two months in the winter AND are very comfortable to ride. BUT they make the funniest grunting sounds....

To use the words of my sister....I was accosted by a camel.... and was the last one to ride this particular camel because he was getting too loud. Haha.

The night ended with a wonderful “traditional” Bedouin dinner (which had a slight lenabese flare to it), and a show by a ‘traditional’ Bedouin dancer (who was actually Russian....we shared our hummer with her on the way back to the hotel)......

The next morning we got up, said goodbye to Dubai and headed to the airport.....

The next morning we got up, said goodbye to Dubai and headed to the airport.....

Dubai Souq's.....get your bartering on my beautiful lady

After venturing to the Jumeriah Mosque and the Ocean seaside, we headed towards Diera, home to the 14 kilometer long Dubai Creek, and the hustle and bustle of old Dubai (the part of the city that hasn’t fallen victim to the building boom and hyper luxury). Dubai creek is a creek about twi

ce the width of the Rideau canal and runs through the north a

nd south side of Dubai. The north side is called Diera and the south side is called Bur Dubai. The creek itself is filled with lots of different types of boats from multimillion dollar yachts to Iranian, Indian and Omani traders boats called Dhows, and tiny open sided ‘boat tax

is’ called Abras (see the photo?). The best way to get across the creek is to take the 1 durum ride on an Abras, which carry as many a

s 40 000 passengers everyday! The boats themselves

are wooden motor powered and can carry about 20 people on each trip. It was pretty

cool riding them as they look and drive like normal boats, only they don’t have any sides. It was pretty interesting to watch the driver navigate the thing with all the people on it....but besides the rather large run in with the docking station, it was a pretty smooth ride.

Crossing from Bur Dubai over to Diera led us to the traditional

Dubai Souqs. A souq is a merchant market selling everything from electronics, to clothes, to spices, food, and gold. The Diera souqs

are organised by type of goods. There is a spice souq, a gold souq, a perfume souq and a covered souq (which sells clothes, primarily imported from India). We started at the spice souq, which was pretty small but fantastic! I have never seen such a large volume to spices in my life. There were dozens of coffee bag sized bags of Iranian Limes, Saffron, dried roses, cumin, red, white and black pepper, menthol crystals, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, frankincense and myrrh (which one guy kept repeating ‘like the three wise men’). The gold was in the other souq.

It is imposs

ible to walk through any of the souqs without being bombarded by all shops

owners asking if I wanted to buy something, while I was taking some pictures max started talking to one of the shop keepers...when I showed up I realised they were talking in German, really because it’s pretty hard to travel anywhere without running into some who speaks German---especially if you are traveling with one with a radar. Then we switched t

o English and gave us some samples of camel chocolates and chocolate covered dates, and smells of vanilla pods, Iranian saffron, and menthol. We found out that he was a spice trader from an Iranian father and a Turkish Mother who has spent time in Germany and can also speak English......well sort off.

...at one point he asked max ‘where he found this cheese’. Both max and I looked incredibly confused because there was no cheese in sight.....we looked at him again...when he repeated the word ‘cheese’, it sounded more like ‘she’. So he was asking ‘how did you find she’.....we inferred that what he meant was how did you guys meet......lol..

.it was pretty funny... in total, the man spent about 20 minutes showing us around his tiny shop(which was probably the size for a garage of a golf cart), we didn’t buy any spices as well, we aren’t headed home just yet....BUT, he gave us his card, and I will for sure head back there on the way back......

The gold souq was slightly overwhelming as by this point I was getting annoyed at the constant badgering for me to ‘come and buy beautiful things’....

gone are the days of being completely ignored while shopping in Hungary..... I did stop in one shop to look at a sea pearl....it was a beauty....a greeny-grey coloured pearl on a bed of diamonds.....for the price of 1800 Durums it would have been mine (sans bartering)....but....it left it in the safe hands of the shop keeper as I did not have the money, nor the necessity for a sea pearl necklace....it

was still nice though....very nice....

At the end of the Gold Souq there was a couple of cloths shops, which we stopped at to look at. Again, it was actually pretty hard just to ‘browse’ around or touch anything without a pestering shop keeper coming up to you and pushing goods on you....it was 33 degrees outside and I was hot...so when we walked by a shop selling long skirts we stopped I found two different skirts that I liked.....and the shop keeper said they cost 310 dirhams.....which is about 85 bucks....they were nice skirts but not that nice... This was my first experience in bartering and it was quite interesting.... back and forth and back and forth..... a lot of ‘but my friends this is high quality’ from the merchant and a ‘but that is way too much for me, and it’s not worth that price you can buy it somewhere else cheaper’ we ended up getting the price down to 180 dirhams.....which is about 50 bucks....still a little high but taking the advice of a friend....I paid what I thought it was worth to me. On a complete side note, one of the skirts was so long that I wore it the next day as a dress! Success!!!

We stopped for a Turkish Coffee and a melon

Sheeshaa on the creek, then called it a day!

(the picture below is an Iranian spice trader's boat)

I came to the land down under....

Silence.

I guess this is the best way to describe this month's action on the blog-o-sphere. But I'm back (on the blog, not home), and have tons and tons of stories to tell.......A good old room-mate once told me that she couldn't post her facebook photos out of chronological order, and once she told me that, I too developed the compulsion for order of the chronological sort, and so (with t

he exception of this post), I will recou

nt my adventures from the beginning.....or at least from where I left off...

But first.

Australia. Yup, I arrived here about a week ago, drank an ice coffee, said hello to the people I'm staying with and collapsed. literally slept for days. Now, almost a week of venturing not further than a 10 kms from the small Sydney burb, I feel rejuvenated and ready to roll!

First impressions of Australia are as follows:

great. nice. warm

(although they are still in winter). friendly.

at least that was the first day. and today. the rest of the days it has been raining. I guess there is something comforting about exploring a new place whilst in the rain. actually, the rain may have been one reason why my exploring has been limited to a 10km range.

But today we got out and about----to a animal refuge called Koala Park in West Pennant Hills, NSW (New South Wales). The park itself started in the 1920s to help safe the Koala from extinction. During that time Koala's were being killed for their furs and this park and safe haven was created for Koala's to live....the park eventually expanded to care for all of aussie-land creatures.... In addition to Koala's, there were Kangaroos, Wallabies, Penguins, aussie birds, dingos, flying squirrels, pretty much everything aussie. The Koala's were the cutest things ever!

All the hens, roosters, peacocks could not be caged...and at one point we spent 5

minutes watching a peacock chase, but never catch, a turkey. They were running in and out of cages, squawking (the peacock,not the turkey). it was hilarious. I couldn't decided if the turkey was outsmarting the peacock as the peacock always seemed to miss the turkey, but the peacock seemed super iritated by the turkey...kind of like the peacock was the older sister (or brother) chasing the younger smaller turkey.... i was cheering for the turkey (wonder why?) ......

Tomorrow we are headed to a surf festival on Manly beach. should be fun (and I'll take loads of pictures). I must also say that besides today, my brain seems to always forget to grab the camera when we leave the house. Maybe it's my subconscious reminding me that i have 1900 photos that i have yet to go through.........

But before I begin the adventures in Aussie-land......back to the Middle East....

A special birthday post

For all the folks reading my travelling/living/ranting/talking to myself blog, I have been out of internet for a couple of days now....have no worries, I have kept writing, and will post shortly!!!

Before I do, however, I would like to send my finest birthday wishes to a friend in Ottawa. HAPPY BIRTHDAY my dear!!! Have a splendid day

and sorry I couldn’t be there to give you a birthday hug and birthday cake (with the use of your eggs and milk of course!).

I got you some Doritos, nacho cheese UAE style. I checked, they were made in Saudi Arabia J

See?

I did get you a cake for your birthday (as I have every year since I met you); it’s just here in Dubai. It’s even Canadian. A McCain Deep and Delicious made in Canada!

See? no sprinkles, sorry but you can imagine...right?

Happy Birthday to you Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Catherine, Happy Birthday to you!!!!!

And a new adventure begins....part I

And another adventure begins

True to the name of this blog, another adventure has begun. I’ve handed in my

final paper requirements for my Masters (pending approval), transferred my savings to my checking account and got on a plane to Australia. Well actually, its going to take 5 weeks to get there. And the first stop is the Middle East.

I arrived in the DBX at precisely 6 31 pm Saturday. It’s now 1 47 am on Monday morning and I am writing this blog entry. Ahhh jetlag, it’s a wonderful thing.

With the exception of mistaking a ladies prayer room with a bathroom at the airport and pretending that 40 degree heat is nice, Dubai has been pretty cool. But is not at all what I expected. It’s a city with 80% expats predominately hailing from India and Pakistan, but there are plenty of ‘white westerners’ walking around. Some areas is like walking through little India in Toronto, only with Arabic. In fact, there is a second cup here that has both English and Arabic signs everywhere!

Our hotel is in the middle of a thousand other apartment hotels in the city centre. When we arrive last night we decided to discover the city centre and it was pretty amazing.

From the colourful tailor shops filled with Indian Saris, to the smells of pita bread baking in stone ovens, to the thousands of people, honking SUVs and constructions sites, the city is definitely a bustling metropolis.

Its interesting because the building and actually city was no where to be found in the 1950, with the surge of Dubai happening in the late 1990s. Before it was just a small port town that relied on the pearl trade, and now its quite the site to see.

Today we ventured to the Jumeriah Mosque, the only mosque in town that is open to non-Muslims. I had to wear a scarf over my head, which at first I felt a little bit weird about, but soon got used to it. The Mosque was built in the late 1970s and was styled like a typical Egyptian mosque. It was so bright and aerie and large and open it was really neat.

Part of the tour is actually a introduction to Islam as well so the two leaders also talked about the five pillars of Islam as well as some of the other aspects of being Muslim (like how the prayer schedule works, Mecca, the head dress, etc).

They also told us a little bit about the gulf styles of Islam (regarding the traditional black dresses for women and white for men), and some of the traditional head pieces warn by some women in the dessert (that serves both as a measure of modesty and a shield from the blistering heat and sand storms).

After the Mosque we went for a stroll on the Indian Ocean and the water was crystal clear and the sand was sooo white. There were tons of little rocks and stone with some of them covered in dried up oil! I couldn’t take any pictures because it’s forbidden on the beach. The sign also said ‘punishable’ by law. I didn’t really want to risk it!

After the beach we headed into the Dubai Creek and the old souqs....HUGE market places filled with spices, clothes,pots and pans, and...hmmm...gold!!

Back in Canada, with a two week detour .

It guess it's been a while since my last post.

Actually, there is no need for guessing. It has been weeks!

I left Budapest at the end of August, and flew to Berlin for the last of my travel adventures before returning to Canada. These adventures took me through four countries and one principality, ending in Budapest for my final trek to Ferihegy Airport.

We began in Berlin, and drove south to a small German town named Rottenburg. Rottenburg is the quintessential German town, complete with a clock in the town square that chimed every hour, greeting visitors with two marionettes that drank fake wine while the bells chimed. Apparently, way back when (European timelines, so the 16th century), the mayor of Rottenburg was given an ultimatum during the sieging of the city. Drink a gallon of wine or the city would remain under siege. He drank of wine, saved the city and remains immortalized in the city's clock, and in Rottenburg's top 10 must sees.

Rottenburg

is also home to the Kathe Wohlfarht store, a year round Christmas store, filled with all the yule tide treasure you can imagine. and then some more. You were allowed to take pictures in the store, but I snapped this one just before we went in. The store is three floors, and has a large Christmas tree in the centre of it. There was a section of standard Christmas things, like ornaments, garland, and nut crackers, and then there was a large section devoted to these small (and large) wood, sculpture things, with wind mills arms like things on the top. When you put a candle in it, the heat from the candle moves the arms and causes a whole scene to start. Some had Santa Clause, some had the wise men, and others had carousel like horses. Super duper neat-o. Especially since they were all hand crafted, wood carved. the details were fantastic. It was like FAO Swartz, Christmas style. It must see tons of tourists, because all the major 'rules' of the store (like DO NOT TOUCH, or NO PICTURES), were written in four different languages. The staff also spoke English, which was a plus!

After the clock, the Christmas store, a short coffee break and some aimless wondering, we headed to the town's history museum. This town was founded somewhere in year 100 (back when t

he Roman's were in charge), and so, it has of history---and some pretty cool weapons to show for it. Here is what most of the museum looks like (with the exception of the creepy dungeon, complete with torture chamber). I obviously did not take good enough notes for this one, but the flag in the photo is so old that it

is being held together by a second piece of cloth sewn into it. The mannequins were slightly creepy.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wondering around the city and the city wall itself (you could

walk all across it). From the tiny windows you could see for miles outside the city, including small vineyards, forests and, er...the motor way...but still, a nice sight. After we were finished scaling the walls, taken ample photos, and bought two bottles of local wines, we got back in the car and continued driving south. Destination: St. Gallen, Switzerland.

Last days in Budapest.....

• I can't believe it, I really can't....but alas, my time in Budapest is coming to an end. I can't tell you how much I have learned about myself, the world around me, and most importantly, about the people who populate it. It's exciting!

I came here with no expectations....I wanted to see what was here before I made any decisions about the people of the country that hosted me, the region and the whole 'living the expat life'. I am glad I took this approach. But I won't lie, there were times when I caught myself judging; judging about 'their way of life', 'their country', and 'their beliefs'. Eventually when the frustration subsided, I got to know the city, the locals, the expats, the customs and also 'got over' what ever the issue was, I knew those judgments were only half true. The other half of the truth was manageable. I guess if we were all the same, the world would be kind of boring anyway.

When I arrived in Hungary back in May I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Having never lived abroad, nor spent extensive amounts of time in a place where I was the second language learner, I guess I was slightly nervous.......the nervousness turned into slight panic when I arrived to, was jet-legged, lost, knew know one and realized that I couldn't just 'ask'.... but, it didn't last long. When they both subsided soon came the 'oh man, what I have gotten myself into, I'm lost, it's raining, it's cold, it's loud, I want my bed'. But then I began to meet some people here, both at work and the fellow 'interns'. Meeting and getting to know these people, their stories and beliefs, caused my perceptions to morph my thinking to, 'okay, so, it's not so bad, maybe this actually could be fun'.

When the old interns left, and replaced by new interns, when friends came to visit and I was suddenly the tour guide and cultural translator, and when a new roommate arrived, exhibiting the same nervous confused behaviors I remember having when I arrived...I knew that I'd finally reached the ' wow, Budapest does have charms beyond Castle Hill'......I think this is a good thing to leave with.

I had my final exit interview with my supervisor and the ambassador yesterday. Besides discussing the standard 'so how was your time here, what was your job, what did you learn, how was your team etc', the Ambassador asked me about the expectations that I brought with me. Both to the job and to the internship. I had to be truthful, and told her I didn't know enough to come with expectations.... but I am leaving with a whole new perspective on things....like poverty, racism, nationalism, minority rights, and history. I also am leaving with a new appreciation for communication, well timed public transportation, Balkan Beats, a stable government and public service and Kraft Peanut Butter (never will I leave the country without a stash). According to the ambassador, my desire for Peanut Butter is what 'typical' Canadians ask for when abroad....I smiled at the fact that my neurotic behavior was a 'typical Canadian thing'. We also talked about the wonderful people that work at the office, their approach to life and their jobs, and the general positive outlook that most bring everyday. This was one of the first places I'd ever worked where people were more worried about their own jobs than what other people were doing, they worked together like nothing I've seen before, and gossip was always that afterthought of a conversation, not the purpose of it. I was amazed at how this impacted my work, and the whole environment of the office. Something I will take with me to where ever I end up.

She also thanked me for the Canadian cupcakes we'd made her upon her arrival (and mentioned that she knew it must have been a 'Canadian' who would have suggested it). (The entire office was thankful for the treat mum).


Hungary is a beautiful country, and like many countries in this region and the world, still struggles with its past, and is unsure of its future. But this uncertainty needn't be a pejorative thing... if properly managed, uncertainly breeds creativity and innovation. Both of which can help move any struggling country, region, or person forward....