No Worries

Alright, so I’m not one to complain about very much. Well, not entirely true, if something really grinds my gears I can easily dwell on it for weeks, just ask anyone who was around me last summer (ahem, Canadian Pension Plan). But in terms of general everyday life, I’ve admittedly had it pretty good since day 1, and I try not to take those things for granted by being a “Colin Complain-a lot”, because let’s face it, some things in life are more important. I could describe a number of examples to illustrate this point, but I feel this commercial does a more effective job, cue video. (Sorry to use one that hits so close to home, but it really does get my point across. If you want to really bum-out try this one.)

Anyways, I think you get it, I like to let things go, because they could be worse. Plus nobody likes ‘that guy’ who just whines about everything, nobody cares.

But what happened to me this week with my bank (that my sister referred me to, thank you very much) National Australian Bank, would have sent off a shorter tempered person.

It all started last Saturday when I went to use the ATM machine. At that point I was going to pick up some groceries, then pay for accommodation for that night and Sunday night. As I went to the checkout with my groceries, I reached into my wallet and realized I had forgotten my Visa debit card at the machine, oops. I ran to the machine, the card was gone, I ran to the nearest branch, it was closed until Monday. I called and cancelled the card. Then I realized I have very little money in my pocket, no accommodation and no food. But hey, it’s my own fault and could be worse. I got the hostel to allow me to stay and pay on Monday, and was able to purchase enough calories for an average sized 20-something male to survive for 48 hours.

Prologue: Keep in mind, in Canada, when you go to the teller they can issue you a temporary card and change/reset your pin on the spot while your card arrives in the mail, so there is minimal impact on your daily life.

In Australia…

I went to the teller to order a new card, and was told it had to be mailed (the actual physical mail that they used in the olden days), and takes 5 business days. Hopefully it does, because that’s about the last business day before I leave civilization for, only god knows how long. It is not possible to receive a temporary card, but I am able to withdraw money from a teller using proper id. Alright, no worries, kinda sucks, but could be way worse. So I changed my mailing address from my sister’s place in NSW to this branch in Perth.

Friday morning, card has arrived. “Do I need to call and activate it?” “No, it’s ready to go”, “Beauty, what about my pin?”, “It will be the same as your old card”, “excellent, tyvm”

Across the street, I go to the tourist office to purchase a national park pass for my upcoming trip. Attempt to use my pin, failed. Maybe I did it wrong, so I try again, failed. I don’t attempt a third, or else it will lock my card, so I sign for the pass, and head back to the branch.

“Hey, I’m back, my pin is not the same, I just tried using it twice and it didn’t work, can you tell me what it is?” -Me

“Sure thing, just swipe your card [swiped] ok now enter your pin” –Same bank teller

“ [pause] … if I get it wrong a third time it will lock my card.” -Me

“Yup, just enter it on the keypad in front of you.” –Bank idiot

[pin failed]

“Oh, it’s locked your card, we’ll have to send you a new pin.” –Mysteriously employed man

“Ok, by text?” –Me

“Nope, in the mail” –Man with the IQ of a stamp

“The actual mail?” –Me

“Ya, 5-7 business days and you won’t be able to use your card.” –One of those guys that just has one of those faces you just want to punch

“… [check for sarcasm, or some kind of Candid Camera gag, nothing] … Wow. That is so low-tech.” –Me

“Sir, it is because we order our cards from a third party an-“ –Supervisor who showed up when she must have heard my tone of voice when asking to clarify what kind of mail the teller was referring to.

“It doesn’t matter where you get it from, you’re physically sending me electronic information, it’s low-tech, you can’t just give me a pin right now? I’m right here. I won’t even have a mailing address.” –Me

“Well you can have it mailed to someone you know, who can open it, scratch it off and text the pin to you.” –Supervisor, unable to think more than one level of logic ahead

“…So can’t this third party just scratch it off and text it to me now? Whatever, fine, just mail it, I’ll need to get cash out since I can’t use my card for another 2 weeks (5-7 business days includes a couple Sundays and a holiday).” –Me

As I walk away, I’m going through everything in my head and realize I changed my mailing address to a branch that I’m never going to visit ever again, *sigh* could be worse. Back to the branch I go.

“Hi again, yes, I need to change my mailing address, and you need to make sure my pin goes to this one.” –Me

“Oh, ummm okay, Karen how do I do this” –Same brainless teller, with a confused look as he analyzes his brail computer system

“Oh, okay, Sir, you’ll have to come back tomorrow, since we mailed something today your address can’t be changed for 24 hours.” –Supervisor

“Ha! Of course it can’t, thank you for your help, I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” –Me

As I leave the bank, I go to the surplus store around the corner to get a sleeping bag for my trip. Figured I’d give my card a shot and just sign for it, it worked. Idiots.

Moral of the story, I dunno. If you read this whole thing, I hope you enjoyed my rambling banter. I had to tell someone. I just can’t believe that the most profitable, publicly traded bank in Australia is run with such operational inefficiencies. If one day I have the capital to become a corporate raider, I have my first target.

But in the end I look back and think, if I hadn’t gotten that 6-month placement at EDC after graduation, I’d be in South Korea right now … I suppose, it could be worse.

Esprintz

I spent this past weekend in Esperance, which is known for having the best beaches in Australia. I'm not sure I'll go that far, there are a lot to choose from, but they are certainly the stuff of postcards. I was fortunate enough to meet up with an English bloke and a Dutch girl who had a car. On the first day (cloudy) we did the "Great Ocean Drive" and on the second day (perfect) we drove out to the national park, Cape Le Grande. Rather than search my limited vocabulary for adjectives, I'll let some pictures do the talking.


Driving into Lucky Bay in Cape Le Grande.


Lucky Bay

Naturally, Lucky Bay was a little overcrowded (15 people or so) so we headed down to Thistle Cove.


We had this one to ourselves.

There was a pretty decent surf that day, so I figured I would put my new underwater camera to the test.


1-2m wave, maybe 5m away and closing, fast.

It passed the test.


Body surfing, or something like it.


Heading out of Thistle Cove. This picture really doesn't do any justice. In the background is Frenchman's Peak, unfortunately it's details are a little tough to make out in this picture. I had wondered that day why it was called Frenchman's Peak, then one look at it and it was clear. Note the toupayyy.


"HA! Yeah right, 40 minutes, tops" -Mike and I


Little did we know, there is only a path for the first, of 3 kms. From there you have to find the markers. Oh, and by the way, it's steep.



Fuelled with overconfidence and un-prepared-ness, I'm doing this in flip flops.



But we made it.


I don't have many pictures at the top. If you know me, I am a little girl when it comes to heights. At one point Mike looked down, and I almost got sick just from that. Anyways, we managed our way down without incident and made it back to the sign in about 1hr and 15, not bad I reckon. We passed an extended family (children-grandparents) about to begin the path, we gave them a simple, "good luck".

Coming Soon

Quote of the Day. Link at the top.

Welcome to Norseman

Well I've got one CFA book to go, which I would normally take advantage of on my day off. However, I just spilled coffee all over it. So, here it is, good ol' Norsey.


Here's the first sign of civilization heading in from the West (Perth) through the Hyden road, which is famous, for at the other end is wave rock.

Just before this sign, to the right, is one of the salt lakes.


Really the only place you can go to escape the bugs (yes, that includes indoors). The salt lakes are just ancient lakes that have since dried up, on the crust at least. As you venture further out into the middle your feet begin to sink, progressively more with each step. People are advised not to go out there after it rains as it acts as a natural sponge and can become quick-sand-like. No one told Martin (Norwegian co-worker who happens to be a mega-hippy) this, until after he decided to go running out on the salt lake, the morning following a stormy night. Here's the result.


I'm not entirely sure how this happened. But he claims he was running towards the middle when he began to sink more and more. He looked back and figured he was about half way so just decided to keep going. As he was stumbling he just managed to get back to dry land. He figures if he lost his momentum he wasn't coming back. I just told him it was evolution at work.

Enough of that, off into town.


Heading up the Hyden rd, past that Welcome sign, you come to this roundabout. You'll first notice the tin camels, commemorating the town's construction using camel trains. In the background you can see a bit of one of the gold mines. There's a large cliff that's just made up of the earth that has been removed as it's in between humans and riches of gold. Up ahead is the town centre (notice the sign in the lower left, in the picture above).


Voila, downtown Norseman. On a particularly bustling morning mind you. The pub must be open.


Picture 1 of a 4 set 360-ish degree view of the town centre. Clearly the IGA, a cafe that I think is open, and the News Agency which is also the telecommunications distributor, pharmacy etc. To the right is...


2 of 4. Hardware store that's probably the closest thing to a Canadian Tire around here. Beside it is the Doll Museum and Book Exchange. I have not been inside as it's open for maybe 2 hours a day. Although rumour has it that it's run by a gypsy who immediately analyzes your life without asking, and who also doubles as the local ebay guru. Quite the interesting combination. Again to the right...


3 of 4. The Activity Cave, actually I don't know what that is to be honest, I've never seen it open. The unmarked building to the left sells dvds and cds. The unmarked building to the right is like a perma-garage sale. The place is absolute rubbish. You know that saying, one man's trash is another's treasure, well that doesn't apply here.


4 of 4. This is it, the last of the town. Cassidy's Family Fashions-closed. Finally, la Pièce de résistance, the drive-in pub/bottle shop. Something like half a dozen tvs tuned into the races and just as many, if not more, TAB terminals to allow the poor to tax themselves day in and day out. You have to pay $2 for 3 songs otherwise there is no music. When the pub closes, which often occurs when the staff wants to go have a drink for themselves, you buy 'takeaways' which are literally beers for the road. Marking the end of the town centre...


The town clock tower, without hands. Back to the Future anybody...?


More to come...

Recent Storm

Alright, alright, I hear you. More posts, more often.

I'll write a long one up about Norseman in a couple of days. I have plenty of pictures to take you on a little "sightseeing tour".

Right now I just want to give you an idea of the extremes we get in the country out here. Just about every single day I've been out here there isn't a cloud in the sky. It rained about a month ago overnight, for 20 minutes or so, but I didn't see any of it. Other then that, I've barely seen clouds and certainly not any rain. Until, just a few days ago we had a storm roll in that couldn't be missed. There were radio alerts warning people of thunderstorms, hail, and flash floods. They advised everyone to find shelter for their vehicles, to avoid the insurance catastrophe that happened earlier in Perth. Anyways, this storm hit us around 4-5am. Now, if you know me, you know that I sleep through storms, I've slept through earthquakes and could probably be robbed in the night without so much as tossing over. I sure didn't sleep through this one. There was no hail but it sounded like the roof was getting shot at, the lightning was so bright I thought about reaching for my sunglasses, and the thunder shook the..shack I'm currently living in. Disappointingly I didn't think to get any pictures, so I failed you and you'll just have to take my word for it.

Later that day I heard there was another storm coming in at night, so I decided to climb up to the lookout to see if I could get pictures of it rolling across the plains. I also failed at that. Here's an example of all I was able to get.

It seems the storm knew I was there and waited for me to get down before crossing over the hills. So I didn't get any pictures of the actual storm but I got these, which are a little anti-climatic but still pretty amazing.
This one shows the water pouring in as the ground slopes to the right. It seems the motel wasn't designed with storm drains so it really just heads to the furthest room on the right as seen here.
Another important point is that this picture was taken at 5:30pm. It is never that dark so early in the day. The next picture was taken the next morning.

Clearly, the water is completely dried up, and the sky has returned to normal. Almost as if nothing had happened.

To refrain you from speculating; those pictures were taken from my balcony, so that's not where I am living, but that is part of the motel. Those hills in the background are pointing west (towards Perth). We get weather from that direction, also from the south which always brings "cold" and "wet" weather, or so I am told.

The Most Isolated City in the World

Defined: A city of at least 1 million people, furthest away from another city of at least 1 million people.

Perth, Western Australia, is the most isolated city in the world. It’s next closest city, Adelaide, is 2,100km away. To give that perspective, imagine the area from Ottawa, Ont to Orlando, Fla (an area containing just under 100 million people) containing nothing but bush and desert. It is closer to Jakarta than it is to Sydney. I have plenty of other stats, but I think you get it, Perth is far, far from everyone else.

As such, it certainly doesn’t seem as if the city is making any attempt to integrate with the rest of the country. Western Australia refuses to follow daylight savings rules, and as a result is 2.5 hours behind states that border it. All broadcasts are delayed three hours, this includes live events such as sports, news, and even emergency alert messages. Seriously. As tidal waves were approaching the eastern shore of Australia, they were reporting it to hit in approximately half an hour’s time, when in actual fact the tidal waves, which never quite materialized, had hit the shores 2.5 hours earlier. Sure, it didn’t directly affect Westralians but it would have been nice to know that everyone was ok, in real time, not when it seemed convenient to broadcast. Which is really quite odd, because there’s value in a news channel being “the first to…”. Seeing as how the information was available, someone should have taken advantage of it, I suppose that just goes to show how ignored WA really is.

Being the most isolated and probably most ignored city in the world, Westralians will grab onto anything to take pride in. For example, being the last city to celebrate Australia Day, whoo hoo. When the party’s already 3-4 hours old, and everyone’s long gone to sleep (as complained in previous article) Perth gets to pretend it has the country’s attention. Westralians also like to refer to Perth as “The City of Light” (which, to everyone else in the world of course refers to Paris) because residents turned their lights on, as astronaut John Glenn orbited overhead who, at that time, did acknowledge he could see the city (Well duh, refer to article title).

I don’t mean to knock on Perth so much, I’ve enjoyed my time here, it’s climate is truly unbelievable. 30+ everyday and sunny, something that’s really easy to take for granted. The beaches have nothing but fine white sand and warm green water. The sun sets over the Indian Ocean everyday, I can certainly see what has attracted 1.6 million people to the city.

Now, that’s an article I had written some time ago. I’m not quite sure where I was going with it at the end so I’ll just leave it because talking about how isolated Perth is, just seems ridiculous now that I’m in Norseman.

Australia Day

Nothing brings Ozzies together like Australia Day. It’s their day to show how proud they are of their country; it’s unique landscape, it’s unique history, it’s laid-back culture, Miranda, it’s extreme climate, AC/DC, and vegemite. Naturally one would assume (especially after my previous article, talking up their patriotism) that this would be a massive day of; festivals, barbies, public intoxication (as pictured below; you're alright to drink during school and work hours, just don't do it on your own time) and Bogan Australians, indeed quite similar to Canada Day in the Byward Market. Alas, this was not to be. Stores were open, trams not overly busy, finding a spot on the beach was easy, no one was being carted away by the police. I would have to say, this was the first time during my visit I was a little disappointed in the Australian people.

You could immediately point out the tourists, as they were the ones wearing green and gold, or had the Australian flag either tattooed on their body or worn as a cape. Talking to some Ozzies they explained that Australia Day is “really no big deal, someone will have some people over for a some backyard cricket and we'll listen to Triple J’s top 100 hits of 2009”, lame.

That being said, Australia Day is what you want to make of it. Went out for lunch with a few friends, went to the beach, met up with a group of Canadians to catch some pretty sweet fireworks, then had a rooftop party until we were told (by Ozzies) to go inside at midnight, no less, because we were making too much noise *sigh.

Oh well, off to W.A., there I’m sure you could be as loud as you want and no one will hear you.

The Tennis

For whatever reason, Ozzies refuse to call things by their proper name. The event that is happening that night will always be known as “The {insert general name}”. A test cricket match between Australia and Pakistan becomes “The Cricket”, an Aussie Rules match between Hawthorne and Essendon becomes “The Footy” in parts of Oz, a rugby match between St. George Illawarra Dragons and the Canterbury-Bankstown Bulldogs becomes “The Footy” in other parts of Oz, and a soccer match between Sydney FC and Melbourne Victory becomes “The Footy” in other parts of Oz, and some of these parts happen to overlap. So naturally, when the world class of tennis heads to Melbourne for the Australian Open, it’s “The Tennis” that captivates Ozzies all over the country. The Tennis also caught the attention of T.O. pictured above as part of Andy Roddick’s entourage twittering live, throughout the tournament.

Ozzies love tennis and they absolutely love Ozzies playing tennis. They will go all out to show this affection for their fellow Ozzies, regardless of whether or not they’ve even heard the name of the Ozzie they’ve just painted on their bodies or that he/she’s facing match point without a prayer to come back and win the match (strictly positive encouragement, not one single boo or jeer or laugh). If you’re thinking to yourself “that’s no different than Canadians” then tell me what you were thinking when the Canadian Men’s Olympic Hockey Team failed to make it out of the round robin at the Turin Olympics in 2006, or when the Raptors failed all expectations last year, or when the 2009 Grey Cup was decided by a “too many players on the field” penalty. Australians will even go all out to get behind someone who just has some sort of connection with an Ozzie. For example Ana Ivanovic just happens to be dating (and man do they love celeb gossip) Australian PGA golfer Adam Scott therefore 6,000 Ozzies packed Margaret Court Arena to give her a "2nd man" advantage in her first round matchup, which she did not need.

Of course, I’m not knocking Ozzies for this, quite the contrary. It makes for an amazing atmosphere. Some of the most entertaining matchups I attended, were between virtual nobodies. There were multiple cheering sections that; obviously had some great cheers to get everyone involved, would yell out jokes that drew laughs from the entire crowd, could make the crowd do the wave in three different speeds, and using these tools effectively could raise the heart-rate of either player during tense moments of the match.

I can’t wait to see what some true Ozzies get up to for Australia Day.

G'Day

I’ve never before been able to tell the difference between an English and an Australian accent. Perhaps, this is because I’ve never had someone from both countries in the same room. Perhaps it’s because my hearing has gradually deteriorated since grade 11 when Mark Rutherford hit me in the ear with a dodgeball, perforating my ear drum. Or, more probably, it’s just due to my own ignorance. This revelation hit me right in the grill when I was at the Rideau Centre and the girl at the cash at one store had a thick colonial accent. I thought to myself, could she be English? Maybe Australian? But what if she’s a Kiwi? Asking if she’s Australian might offend her. I decided she sounded most like she was Australian, so I asked;

“Are you Australian?”

“What? No, I’m from Wales.”

Never even crossed my mind.

I’ve been in Australia for 2 weeks now. I’ve swam in the ocean, I’ve seen kangaroos, I’ve driven on the wrong side of the road, I’ve sat through test cricket, and I can now tell the difference between an Australian and an English accent. I think.

I’m telling you this because the difference explains many discrepancies between Australia and, well, everywhere else.

Australians speak with their own laid-back slang version of English. If you just listened to them speak you would swear their version of English doesn’t contain the letter R. It’s not that they can’t pronounce R’s, it’s that they choose not to. This laid-back attitude is how they go about pretty much everything. Take this commercial for example. Canadian ING commercials, I’m sure we’ve all seen, feature that clean cut actor with a British accent, a sharp haircut, and an even sharper suit, who tells you exactly what to do with your money, and because of his image you believe him. Some marketing agency has decided that is the type of person that relates to the typical Canadian. Here’s who market research has decided, relates to the typical Aussie.

Australian ING Commercial

A comedian with a ridiculous Scottish accent and even more ridiculous haircut relates to and is trusted by the typical laid-back Aussie.

They don’t wear pants. They don’t wear socks or shoes. They can drink in the car. Their summer sport, cricket, moves at a pace slower than the growth of the grass on which they play. Imagine baseball, with less running, a lunch break, worse commentators, tea breaks and lasting all day for five days. Australians do what they want to do and nothing they don’t.

This includes working weekends, or evenings. On my travel south to visit my sister et al. I rode a train that took me as far as a little town called Nowra. I had about an hour to kill so I decided to grab something to eat. Across the street was a takeaway shop and a pizza shop. It was Saturday, so naturally, both were closed. The pharmacy next to it (reminder: Shoppers is open until midnight 7 days/week) was closed. Come to think of it, no one was even working at the train station I arrived at. The town was essentially shut down. I decided to keep walking and eventually found a Middle Eastern looking sign that pictured a shwarma and read “kebabs”. I went in, ordered a “beef kebab with the lot” and sat outside to eat, it was delicious.

Then, an SUV pulled up in front with the typical 2 parents and 2 kids family. The father jumps out and runs around the corner. He returns from the other side some time later and opens the car door to get in, then looks at me,

“Eh mate, wheah [where] ah [are] the meat pies?”

“Excuse me?”

“That meat pie you’ve got, [where’d] you get it?”

“Oh, this is a shw-, it’s a kebab” I answered, pointing to the sign.

The man squints to read the Middle Eastern looking sign, then makes the face someone would make while watching EJ Henderson (#56 White jersey, long hair) break his leg. He gets in the car and drives down a road that looks as if it goes nowhere. It seems that this man was willing to let his family go hungry before he would risk feeding them something other than a good ol’ Aussie meat pie.

If all you care about in a meal is that meat is included, Australia’s the place for you. A meal contains meat; beef, chicken, pork, fish, or just plain meat. If you want a vegetable, I guess you can get potatoes, but it will probably have gravy on it. And who would want it any other way? Certainly not Aussies, or else they would have it that other way.

That’s just how they roll in Oz. I think I’m going to like it here.