Hired

Larry and I got a solid job offer Wednesday last week. We will be working for a cattle company about 550 miles north of Brisbane, near a town called Emerald. They need some help gathering, branding, and fencing for a few weeks. After that, they might find other stuff for us to do, ask around the neighborhood if anybody needs any help, or we can head back south. Should it turn out to not be a good deal, we aren't obligated to them for too long, and either way, we should collect a couple stories up there.

We've done some painting and mechanicing for the Ihles during the week. The five doors finished up nicely, even with my poor painting skills, especially when compared to Larry's, who was a house painter for four years. Jeff, Larry, and I replaced the timing belt in Jeff's Hilux on Sunday. It was an all-day job, but we managed it without any flying hammers, tantrums, or broken knuckles.

My friend Mike Natoli studied at Bond University on the Gold Coast in the middle of 2009. When he found out I was headed to Oz, he eagerly volunteered his advice, his old phone and converter plug, and some contacts he still has down here. Larry and I headed that way on Friday the 18th. Mike's friend Rosie met us at the train station and very graciously showed us around and gave us a place to stay for the night. We got our feet wet for the first time in the South Pacific at Broadbeach. The surf was really very intense, and I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have had the heart to try surfing on that particular day. The beach, sand, and sun were great though. Later we went to Surfers' Paradise, more to people watch than anything else, as neither Larry nor I are hip enough for the club scene.

Saturday morning Rosie took us to the Burleigh Heads, where Tallabudgera Creek comes into the ocean. This spot couldn't have been more amazing. The rather large creek flowed blue green, with sand and rocks along it, a rock spit extended out about a quarter mile. There was a beach at the mouth of the creek. The Surfers' skyline could be seen from the end of the spit, around the end of the very jungle-like hill. From a pile of rocks underneath a tree, we watched the surfers enjoying the sun and waves, kayakers riding the waves back up the river as they came in, and families soaking up the fierce sun all around. There was even a pleasant breeze.

Austin Ihle, the middle Ihle kid, had a baseball game nearby on Saturday afternoon, so Rosie kindly dropped us off there so we could watch. Jeff coaches the team, and after the game, he lined up a ride for us with one of the player's parents to save us a train ride. We rode back with another Jeff, who happens to work for Bechtel. We chatted at length about the possibilities for a new-grad engineer there. Apparently, they can't get enough engineers, and Jeff sent my resume into a recruiter. Coincidentally, I emailed another Bechtel engineer whose info I had gotten through a friend of my dad, and he responded yesterday. As could be expected, a Working Holiday visa befuddles them a bit, so I have yet to find out what their HR department would want to do.

Sunday, the day we spent in the Ihle garage, was one of the hottest days of the year at just under 100. After the job was done, Jeff suggested we find somewhere to cool off after the heat of the day. We drove about twelve miles west of Ferny Grove, their suburb, to Cedar Creek, and swam in a water hole. The creek was extremely cool and welcoming. It was even deep enough to jump off of the rocks along it, which were eight to twelve feet high. And there was a rope swing, which was like the cherry on top. My getting nipped twice by an eel notwithstanding, there could have been no finer end to the day.

Larry and I are truly thankful to Jeff, Leanne, Ryan, Austin, and Morgan Ihle for letting us stay at their place. Having had their house to use as our base for the while it took to get situated was invaluable, and we are in their debt. I really wonder how we would have done anything if we had started out in hostels.

Uncertainty

As can be expected, Larry and I have been stumbling around, constantly asking and worrying what we're going to be doing now that we're here. We are at the moment still staying at the Ihles', and have struck up a deal to help them out with a few things while we are here. Their house is a work in progress, though very comfortable. We put the first coat of paint of two on five doors this morning, and will help Jeff pull the radiator out of his Toyota Hilux later today, so it will be ready to put in after we replace the timing chain on Sunday. These few things and the bags of sunflower seeds and Hershey Kisses we brought for them are not even wildly close to repayment for letting us be bums at their house while we sort ourselves out, but we will certainly help them out with other work on the house as it arises.

There have been a few prerequisite things to deal with upon arrival. We got cell phones to make ourselves easier to reach by potential employers and those we meet. We went with prepaid phones as opposed to plans due to flexibility and the fact we won't be here forever. Tax file numbers, which are exactly what they sound like, are a boring but important detail to have a handle on when talking to both banks and employers. We applied for them early in the week, but oddly even in this day and age they are still received by the lucky tax-payer via snail mail.

Transportation is also a big question. Getting around the city is possible with public transportation, but is much simpler if a car is available. Getting around outside the cities is just short of impossible without a vehicle. We are considering getting something, preferably a Toyota Hilux "ute", which is essentially a Tacoma. Here, much like everywhere but America, they are diesel as often as not. There are many obvious question marks with this issue, and whether we pursue it or not will depend on what we settle on for employment.

We've job searched quite hard the last couple days. The fact that we are here temporarily and are looking mainly for casual employment is reason enough for many types of employers to wish us good day. I applied for a place at a hydraulic cylinder manufacturer in Brisbane and was promptly told they needed someone permanent. I have yet to hear from Bechtel, which has an office in Brisbane, but I am pretty sure they will tell me something similar. Casual employers are fairly common though. We got an offer to live on an island north of here a ways, cleaning or fixing stuff a couple hours a day in exchange for a couple weeks in a cottage with access to kayaks and fishing gear. We won't make any money but it still sounds like a slick deal. Ag jobs of various kinds are also proving to be a very real option, though this will no doubt dismay my mom a bit.

We did some exploring around the city on Monday. It is a big, crazy, impressive, and really very clean tropical city. It was a hot, sweaty day, pretty much like every other day. We wandered around various areas, and made our way to the river and botanical gardens. From either the lazily winding river or questionable city planning, the roads and streets in and around Brisbane can be considered bewildering at best, and preposterous at worst. I was blown away by the twists and turns we took just getting from the airport to the Ihles' house on Saturday. Google Maps shows the layout of the city well, but the hilliness of the greater Brisbane area obviously cannot be seen from above, and only complicates things. I've found my way around Manhattan by myself, painfully sleep-deprived with less hassle than Larry and I had just figuring out where we were. I'm sure Brisbane is a wild place to live, but it's probably too much city for this kid, and we agreed not long after we got there that staying in the very heart of the city would be less than ideal.

Pictures will come eventually. I've taken a few here and there, but I will have to wait until later to upload them.

Many, Many Miles

Larry and I flew out of Bozeman mid-day Thursday the 10th and arrived in San Francisco without incident. We had a 6-hour layover there so we went downtown, as I had never been to San Fran before, nor even California for that matter, and neither of us wanted to sit in the airport for that long. We had some Mexican food on Powell St because we likely wouldn't have any for awhile, and just wandered around. As it turned out, Larry and I were behind a girl from Gardiner, Montana in the security line. She was also flying to Auckland, then had a connecting flight to somewhere else in New Zealand. We chatted and had a beer with her before the flight. This situation was oddly familiar (see post "Finding My Way To School" from Sept 2008).

The flight across the Pacific was exactly as expected. We left San Francisco at 7:45 pm, 2/10 and arrived at 5:10 am 2/12. It took 13 hours. I'm still troubled by the idea of an entire day just not happening, for me anyway. I watched three movies in this time, and slept roughly 2.5 hours, mostly tossing and turning. We arrived in Auckland and promptly went through immigration and customs because we again had a long layover. We spent the morning downtown, which we found to be asleep. A guy in his mid-20s from Cali wandered around with us, with a chief goal of finding a decent breakfast. By mid-morning we had done plenty of walking and decided to rest in a park by the University of Auckland. I passed out on a bench for about half an hour.

Please forgive me, any Kiwis that happen to read this. Auckland was a lovely, clean city. However, when I am traveling, time doesn't really exist after awhile, and everything is sort of hazy, like I'm in limbo. Also, some of its features struck me as a bit odd, such as the fact that NOTHING is going on before 11:30am. Thus, I will likely have a skewed opinion of the city. For now anyway.

We got back to the airport and flew to Brisbane on a seemingly instant four-hour flight. Again in typical Nate fashion, besides scheduling a trip with weird long layovers, leaving all the airports for wandering also meant that we had to go through security three times and immigration twice. Jeff Ihle, the brother of my family friend Beth Ihle of Townsend, had arranged to meet us at the airport, and got there with his son Austin about 15 minutes after we landed. So far, we've just been relaxing and getting adjusted to Oz at his house, which has a great view of some wooded hills. We were woken up Sunday morning by screeching Kookaburras.

I'll also note that the previous post "Delirium" was written in the Auckland airport after many, many hours and many, many miles. I wrote it after lying down on a bench underneath a large tree with constantly changing colors and projected images of birds and fish. It also apparently played the soundtrack from Jurassic Park, or at least the sound effects. When I finally went to bed Saturday night, I had been up for 46 hours save for the lousy sleep on the plane and the park bench nap.

Delirium

Wait, what time is it? 1:50? pm? What day then? The 12th? But I left on the 10th? So I've been awake for how long? Not two days? It feels like I've been awake for a long time. That sunshine is bright. It must be 80 out. What month is it? What season is it then? Late summer. But I felt -20F wind chill a couple days ago. And Larry's sunburnt. We're gonna get Solar Shield tans.

Australia

For the few of you who have not heard from me or on the wind, I am more or less moving to Australia on February 10. The vast majority of the people whom I have talked to about it were not very surprised that I would once again be leaving Montana; my feet are itching and I have grown stir-crazy over the past year or so.

The idea for this little adventure started forming in the spring of 2010. Larry Lee, a very good friend, roommate of some years, and himself a seasoned traveler, was graduating from MSU and would be gainfully employed by the Forest Service, but only until the fall. I was on track to graduate in December, and have since finished school. I had had a rather discouraging year searching for internships for the summer, and only half-heartedly began the search again for a full-time entry-level engineering gig. Despite having connections within several engineering firms around the country, I still came out empty-handed, feeling I had accomplished little after frittering away countless hours emailing resumes and filling out online applications.

This was the motivation that caused the travel plans to sprout legs. After Larry got back to Bozeman in October, we settled on Australia because of the many, many great things we had heard from several sources, and because of the potential for work. South America had been considered, but after spending so many years as a virtually broke student, I was, and am, ready to be more productive than the typical backpacker.

We bought our tickets in mid-November. I had hinted to my dad that my leaving again was a possibility, but due to my mom's penchant for gossip and her tendency to skew stories between tellings, she was left in the dark about all plans until after the tickets were bought, much to her dismay. She soon realized though that I wasn't rushing into this without any thought.

On to some frequently asked questions:

1. How long will I be there?

I don't really know yet. My visa is good for a year, but I am supposed to stand with a good college friend who is marrying another good college friend in Seattle in July, and I told them that I WILL be there. Plans to come home around then, and whether I will return to Australia after the wedding, have yet to be made.

2. Where will I be living?

Larry and I fly into Brisbane. Through a stroke of luck and an excellent example of knowing the right people, we will be staying temporarily with Jeff Ihle, whose sister Beth I know quite well. After scoping out work possibilities (outlined below), and developing a game plan, we will likely find something more permanent, such as a van on a beach. Yes I know that Brisbane was flooded recently, and yes I know that Cyclone Yasi aimed itself at the state of Queensland only a few days ago, which leads me to...

3. What will I be doing?

There is a strong possibility that we will look into recovery work from the flooding and recent cyclone devastation. Besides this, job prospects are apparently quite good in Oz in just about every field, should Larry or I be so inclined.

And a couple other things that need clearing up:

1. I said it before I went to Ireland, and I'll say it again: chances are quite slim that I will develop an accent. Anybody ever thought that I might like the western US accent, (yes we have one) or at least have some disdain for fake accents?

2. If an opportunity strikes for me to bring home an Aussie bombshell, I'm probably gonna jump on it.

This adventure really is all about opportunity, and not just with women. I wasn't liking the opportunities I was looking at in the US, so I am going to Australia to find other ones. It seems sillier to me to blindly move to Seattle, Phoenix, Houston, or any other large city and dig hard for scarce, less than ideal employment when I can instead blindly move to the other end of the world, have better prospects, and quite likely develop one hell of a story.

I have no job, no wife or even a girlfriend, no kids, and no house to my name. All I've really got is a fiddle and a computer. For the moment, I'm not tied down to anyone or anything. The most reassuring thing about this whole scheme has not been what Australia has to offer, nor the good things I keep hearing about that place. It has been the countless friends and neighbors of mine who wholeheartedly understand and encourage my desire to fall off the map, explore, and gain some more perspective. Just about all of them wish they had done exactly what I'm doing.

I will try to be as regular about posting updates on my whereabouts and whatabouts as I was in Northern Ireland, but I can't make promises just yet. Stay tuned anyway!

Home

I flew to Bozeman on the night of the 16th. My layovers were all very short, and I almost didn't have enough time to call my parents to tell them when I would get into Bozeman. Finding myself alone in the Bozeman airport after 26 hours of travel would have been a rough end to a long day, but my parents and grandma were at the airport and were a very welcome sight. My checked bag, however, could not keep up with me. I found out later that it hadn't even left Newark, my first stop after Dublin, until the following morning. I picked it up on the 18th, which will hopefully be the last time I have to go into any airports for awhile.

I've spent my time at home so far relaxing, seeing friends, and skiing. Staying warm is also high on the agenda. It was -14F when I landed in Bozeman and the ground blizzards are very sobering. I'm not sure if the Irish rain is better or worse than the cold. It's a matter of going from one miserable climate to another.

I have been asked a lot if it's weird being home. It is very good to be home, but I don't think it's weird at all. The weirdness instead comes from thinking about the differences between where I've been and where I am. It would be silly not to compare the two places. I always have to think about such assessments for a long time before they're straightened out enough to be comprehensible to anyone but me, but I'll take a swing at what I understand.

It's hard to put a finger on what it is that best describes the Irish. The place certainly isn't all shamrocks and leprachauns, especially in the North. The do enjoy their drink, but there are a few teetotalers in the North. It can't be called all Catholic or all Protestant in any part of the Ireland. Maybe it's the fact that nobody can agree on anything. The Irish do have a stereotype for fighting after all.

In this big melting pot of America there is plenty of disagreement. That's why America is special: we can think and do as we please. The difference, I believe, is that once someone becomes part of anything in Ireland, be it a religion, the Gaelic Athletic Association, a trade, or either side of any conflict, they stay there. This has proven to be a problem on more than one occasion, but compared to Americans' relative fickleness, I find their devotion and grasp of solidarity quite admirable.

The Irish have, *surprise*, different priorities than we do. Different doesn't have to be good or bad, that's just the way it is. To some Americans they could look lazy, but in their eyes we may look overworked. Going to the bars is something only rowdy college students and strange middle age men do right? To them, pubs are the center of their social circles and people of all ages go to them. Having a drink or two is an important part of life. What's wrong with prioritizing having a good time?

Would I like to go back? Sure. Maybe not just yet, but someday. There's plenty there that I didn't get to see, and there are a couple people I wouldn't mind seeing again. I'm a little surprised my mom wasn't more disappointed that I didn't bring home a redhead, but I spose I could try again later. We'll see I suppose.

And with that, I am proud to say I am satisfied, for now. Like everything else, I didn't care what happened, as long as I've got a story to tell.

County Offaly

I said my goodbyes to my Norn Irish and American buddies and left Newtownabbey on the 12th. I drove to Co Offaly in the south with my flatmate David Kelly. A few weeks ago I had planned on heading to Dublin and from there to Co Cork and Co Kerry right before I flew home. I realized this wouldn't work very well as I really only had three days and just the traveling would have taken at least eight hours each way. David offered to take me home and show me around for a few days, and I took him up on it.

Co Offaly is very near the center of Ireland, in the midlands or heartland. When Americans go to Ireland, it is generally assumed that they will go to Dublin. Other places such as Cork, Kerry, and the west coast are possibilities, with Belfast and the rest of Northern Ireland being a bit less common. The midlands are not a big tourist hotspot, so I would liken an American going there to someone from southern Europe going to Iowa. It just doesn't happen much. I relish getting off the beaten path for if nothing else than to say I have.

The Kellys own about 150 acres near Tober and run about 170 beef cows and 100 ewes. I helped them feed and clean their sheds for the couple days I was there and did my best to explain the differences between our ways of farming. Being just a dumb cowhand I was genuinely stumped by a few questions, but I did impress them with my equipment expertise. Some years they can make hay but almost all of their feed is in silage, and they found it hard to believe that we could make hay the way we do. The extremes of the Montana climate were stretches of the Irish imagination, as was the idea of not having enough water. I enjoyed being out in the country and around cows and equipment again. David let me drive one of their Masseys and even drive their 'jeep' farm Land Rover on the highway.

David also showed me some of the local sights. On Saturday, we went through the Kilbeggan whiskey distillery. The main sourse of power for the equipment was the River Brosna. The water wheel and all the machinery are still intact. They also have a steam engine, which was used about three days a year when the distillery was still in operation. On Sunday we went to the Clonmacnoise monastery on the River Shannon. Many of the churches, high crosses, and shrines are still intact. Pope John Paul II visited in 1979 and the alter in one corner of the site is the only modern structure. We stopped in Athlone afterwards, one of the larger towns in Offaly. I didn't carry my camera around Athlone but I wish I had because it was one of the most picturesque towns I had seen in Ireland. Music sessions aren't as common in the midlands but David had heard of one in Athlone. It was in Sean's Pub, established circa 600, making it the oldest in Ireland. It was the exact image that one would have in their mind of an Irish pub: a little dark, with holly on the ceiling, sawdust on the crooked floor, and some very fine music coming from one corner; and it wasn't a bit touristy. On my last day in Ireland, David and I went to Tullamore, the county town. Tullamore Dew whiskey was made here. It's a cozy little town, very festively lit and decorated for Christmas. We spent my last evening reminiscing about the last few months and playing pool at the Cat and Bagpipes pub in Tober. Having a few pints in an old man pub is the way such an occasion should be spent. We woke up at 4:30 the next morning and made our way to Dublin.

My time in Ireland would have been very different had it not been for David. Taking a politics class and getting out and about seeing things are good ways to learn, but spending a great deal of time with a truly Irish Irishman was invaluable and may be the most memorable part of my time abroad. David taught me a large portion of what I know about what the Irish are really about. I am in debt to the Kellys of Tober, County Offaly, and hope I can show David my part of the world someday to repay them.