Matador Network's Blog, page 2193

Going to Australia on a work visa

Photo: Scott Sanders

1. Befriend more Germans, Brits, and Canadians than Australians

One of the hazards of living and working with mostly foreigners is that you know hardly any Australians. You may celebrate Canada Day and be able to say key phrases in German, but never discussed Tony Abbott’s many embarrassing statements with an actual Aussie. Locals don’t hang out at most of the places working holidaymakers do, and tend to work more long-term jobs, not the casual hospitality jobs that attract backpackers. They’re also not out to explore their own countries like visitors are.

2. Pound goon like a boss

Nothing is more important to backpackers in Australia than goon, a questionable boxed wine. In this land of quality vineyards, goon — sometimes made with fish products — is laughably cheap. Working visa participants haven’t REALLY lived here until they’ve consumed their weight in Fruity Lexia, and used an inflated goon bag as a pillow.

3. Be broke as hell, but still gladly drop $50 on a night out

The higher minimum wage is better than many parts of the world ($16.87 at time of publishing, plus a superannuation fund and tips if applicable), but it’s still expensive to live in Australia. Most of your paycheck likely goes to food and rent, but when the weekend comes, it’s time to blow the remainder of your funds on nightclub entry fees at Cargo Bar in Darling Harbour, overpriced cocktails at Opera Bar, and a cab ride home to your sad share house in Bondi Junction.

4. Own no professional looking clothing

You’ll comb the aisles of Vinnie’s looking for solid black shoes and a white collared shirt for your banquet-serving job, or you’ll pick through the hostel’s “free” bin for something to wear to an interview.

I didn’t need nice clothes when I walked into the bar to hand them my resume, nor when I actually worked there, as we had uniforms. I only needed them for the two days of training required by the hotel. I ran around the sales racks at Cotton On and Ally in search for a basic skirt and sweater. My housemates also donated some of their old clothing to my cause.

5. Score killer backpacker deals

Backpacker deals are the best thing ever, especially when it comes to food and booze. Nearly every city has a place for broke working holidaymakers to flock to when funds are running low. At backpacker bars, you’ll find discounted Toohey’s New, buckets of jam jars, crab racing, giveaways, and jelly wrestling, plus the occasional half-priced pizza. It’s a cheap-and-easy escape from the drudgery that is an Australian work-visa placement.

6. Settle down in a 10-bed hostel room or share a flophouse in King’s Cross with roommates from all over the world

I stayed with a friend for a few months in Sydney and quickly found the city’s apartment situation depressing: it was either share a bedroom with a quiet Korean girl in Ashfield or live in a house with dirty bunk beds and an ever-rotating set of residents in Marrickville. Work-visa residents scramble to find a place to live because of the high rent costs and shortage of apartments close to the city. And most people won’t let an apartment to you unless you meet in person first, so you can’t arrange it before you go. Hostels will do for the first week or two, but many people move into cramped backpacker apartments in World Square and share rooms for a split rate of $100 per week.

7. Take on all sorts of random jobs to keep traveling

You’re not in a position to turn anything down, whether it’s handing out fliers for the newest nightclub in Fortitude Valley, or recruiting donations to Oxfam. While I ended up bartending at a Marriott hotel, I’ve known people to work at hostels (not as fun as it sounds), sell concessions at AFL games, telemarketing, and serving as a “human billboard.” The goal is to make enough money to pay your rent, feed yourself, and be able to travel around the country as much as possible; jobs that pay in cash and involve harassing people on street corners are your best bet.

8. Get an RSA certificate, even if you don’t work at a bar

Many “arrival packages” booked by travel agencies include an RSA (Responsible Service of Alcohol) course, which is a requirement of working at bars and restaurants in Australia. The boring full-day or online course is so easy an idiot could pass it, but is a rite of passage for working holidaymakers, even if you never end up working in hospitality. Don’t be surprised if your teacher tells you exactly which questions are on the test (and their answers), or lets you do it with an open book. It’s all the more embarrassing if you can’t answer the question, “What is the standard pour for liquor?”

9. Spend three months picking fruit in Woop Woop

Long gone are the days of paying off a farmer to get past the convoluted work-permit requirements, so most end up spending months working on farms to get their second-year visa, allowing them to enjoy the “no worries” culture for just a bit longer. You’ll find yourself scanning the Harvest Trail website for leads before taking Greyhound for some godforsaken stretch of earth named Bong Bong or Disappointment Hill. From there, you’ll harvest fruits and vegetables for a few months, fighting your fellow backpackers for work.

10. Spend hours Skype-ing home at an internet cafe while everyone you love is sleeping

The time difference between Australia and the rest of the world makes communicating difficult. You can set your alarm for the early hours for important convos, but otherwise rely on WhatsApp for all other conversation needs.

11. Do just about anything to obtain permanent residency

For the thousands of travelers that come to Australia every year on a working holiday, only a small fraction get sponsored to stay in the country and continue to work. Many travelers will do just about anything to stick around indefinitely, even if it means accepting a job they don’t like, spending 12 hours a day picking spider infested mangoes, going back to school, or marrying an Aussie.

10 outdoor adventures in Wyoming

EVERYTHING ABOUT OUTDOOR ADVENTURE IN WYOMING is totally hardcore, and yet somehow low-key at the same time. You can have breakfast in Jackson and never realize the wiry EMT casually sipping coffee at the booth next to yours has already summited Grand Teton that morning. Or that the barista is going that afternoon for a downriver sprint on the Snake, then running the 15-mile shuttle afterwards as a bit of extra training.

There’s simply more terrain and fewer people.

And it’s not just Jackson or Yellowstone. Wyoming is the Wind River Range, the Medicine Bow Wilderness, the Big Horns, the Red Desert. Here’s a variety of adventures across the state you might not have considered, or even heard of.

1. Llama trekking in the Wind River Range

Llama trekking in the Winds. Photo: m01229

So much of outdoor adventure in Wyoming is associated with Yellowstone, the Tetons, and Jackson that other areas and towns are often overshadowed. A great example is Lander, a town of around 7,500 with perfect access to the “Winds” (the Wind River Range), and the huge backcountry areas encompassed by the Shoshone and Bridger-Teton National Forests. While Grand Teton is the tallest peak in Wyoming, the next 40 peaks above 13,000 are all in the Winds.

Lander is the international headquarters for the National Outdoor Leadership School, and home to several notable outfitters. In particular, Lander Llama Company, which has been running unique llama-supported backcountry treks for three decades. The llamas allow for low-impact, unencumbered hiking deep into the Winds — and places that may be difficult for older adults (or younger children) to reach if they were backpacking. Lander Llama’s Bunk House is also a cool place to stay if you’re just passing through Lander.

2. Caving into the mouth of a disappearing river

Also near the town of Lander is Sinks Canyon State Park. The Sinks are a strange phenomenon, where the Middle Fork of the Popo Agie (pronounced “pa-poggia”) River drops through a beautiful (and gnarly!) Class V whitewater canyon before entering a cave where it completely disappears underground. A quarter mile downstream, the river reappears at a calm pool known as the Rise, where you’ll find some truly huge trout.

There’s a sweet campground at the Sinks where you can set up for a few days of exploring and fishing / paddling. You can also arrange a guided spelunking tour of the cave and follow the river underground with local outfitters.

3. Surfing a beautiful wave

For a place that’s landlocked by at least a thousand miles, Wyoming has one notable surf spot: Lunch Counter rapid on the Snake River. During normal summertime river flows, Lunch Counter forms a glassy standing wave that’s big and steep enough to allow plenty of cutbacks and slashes for skilled surfers. It’s just a great hangout / lunch spot overall, with a short hike in from the Big Kahuna / Lunch Counter trailhead.

4. Horse-drawn sleigh rides in the National Elk Refuge

A much quieter alternative to winter (snowmobile-based) wildlife viewing in Yellowstone, the National Elk Refuge near Jackson provides horse-drawn sleigh rides to see the herd of more than 7,000 elk. In addition to the elk are mule deer, trumpeter swans, pronghorn, and bighorn sheep, as well as the biggest federally managed herd of bison in the country.

5. Sailing on a glacial lake

Jenny Lake at dawn. Photo: Billy Gast

Jenny Lake is one of the most visually striking places in North America, a broad glacial lake of pristine water quality that sits at the base of Grand Teton, creating a huge reflection of the peaks. There’s a loop trail around Jenny Lake and various trails and approach hikes to classic climbing routes. But boating is permitted on the lake itself, and you can tack back and forth below the Grand for an all-time day of sailing.

6. Ice climbing on an artificial waterfall

Part of the difficulty of getting started ice climbing is simply access. Just reaching climbing spots typically requires rugged approach through the backcountry in winter conditions. In Jackcon, the mountain guides at Exum have overcome this problem by building an “ice park” during winter months. Located above the Grand View Lodge at Snow King, there’s pen climbing on Sundays noon to 4pm, and Wednesdays 4-8pm ($20), as well as group lessons on Sundays and private lessons by reservation. Contact Exum for more information.

7. Off-road exploring the largest dune system in the US

As with many places in Wyoming besides Yellowstone, most people have never heard of the Red Desert, even though it has some of the most spectacular wildlife and terrain anywhere in the country. At over 9,000 square miles, the Red Desert region is massive, with diverse ecosystems from boreal forests to high desert to sagebrush scrubland. It contains both the Killpecker Sand Dunes (largest living dune system in the United States) and a section of the Continental Divide.

As far as exploring the Red Desert, there are endless hoodoos, buttes, mesas, and other features for hiking. Llama-supported trips are available out of Lander. Vehicle access is permitted in certain areas as well, including off-road vehicle access within a portion of the Killpecker dunes.

8. Perfect river trip on the Encampment

While just about any whitewater trip is fun, few paddling trips exist in which the myriad factors — river access, portage trails, camping options, whitewater features, water quality, wildlife, shuttle drive — all line up to make a “perfect” trip. The Encampment River, in the Medicine Bow Wilderness of southern Wyoming, is one of these precious few runs.

Although there are some powerful (but straightforward) Class V drops in “Damnation Alley,” if you portage there you don’t have to be a hardcore boater to paddle the Encampment. Intermediate paddlers (and rafters) can make it down as long as the river level isn’t too high (above ~1,200 cfs). That said, besides Damnation Alley, the Encampment has miles-long continuous stretches of Class III+ / IV- boogie water that are super fun as long as you’re a competent Class IV boater.

Part of what makes the Encampment so special is its epic camping options at both the takeout and put-in (particularly along FR 550), as well as a beautiful riverside hiking trail along the entire run. The last several miles are really just Class II swiftwater, so another possibility for summer fun would be hiking upstream several miles from the takeout and then tubing your way back down. Access: Drive south from the town of Encampment approx. 1 mile until you see the sign: “Encampment River and Trail.” Take this road till you reach the campground / takeout. Put-in is at Hog Park on FR 550, where there’s some of the best camping anywhere in the Rockies.

9. Checking out the world’s largest outdoor rodeo

Cheyenne Frontier Days. Photo: Dina Bennett

The last two weeks of July in Cheyenne, the Cheyenne Frontier Days Rodeo — “The Daddy of ‘em All” — brings together world-class ropers and steer wrestlers for the world’s largest outdoor rodeo. Each afternoon are classic roughstock competitions of bareback, saddle bronc, and bull riding, plus timed events like steer wrestling, barrel racing, and team roping. If you’re inspired to go riding yourself, there are horseback tours available at the local Terry Bison Ranch. Lodging fills up way ahead of time, so make reservations in advance.

10. Exploring WWII-era wreckage at the top of a mountain

Deep in the Big Horn Mountains (the “Big Horns”) is a ridge now known as Bomber Mountain. There rests the wreckage of a B-17 that crashed in 1943 on its way to Nebraska (from where it would’ve eventually flown to England to join bombing missions in WWII).

The wreckage makes an interesting (if eerie) hiking objective. Perhaps most importantly, it brings you to this very overlooked range in northern Wyoming. The Big Horns are sacred lands to the Crow, Sioux, and Cheyenne Indians, and two large roadless areas have been preserved, including the Cloud Peak Wilderness.

This post is proudly produced in partnership with the Wyoming Office of Tourism.

Visit their site to find more adventures for your trip to Wyoming.

A normal friend vs. a Russian friend

Photo: Alexandre Ferreira

1.

A normal friend will bring you a can of Campbell’s condensed chicken soup when you have the flu.

A Russian friend will have their babushka make a giant batch of borscht for you and then deliver it to your house in a stockpot.

2.

A normal friend will study with you before university finals.

A Russian friend will give you all the answers to the exam questions as soon as the professor has left the room, whether you asked for them or not.

3.

A normal friend parties indoors during the wintertime.

A Russian friend takes you to drink vodka shots on a snow-covered park bench in -10 F weather.

4.

A normal friend apologizes and pays the fine when the police catch them illegally drinking alcohol on said park bench.

A Russian friend bribes the police officer, and then continues to down ice-cold shots.

5.

A normal friend will ask if you’d like a glass of water or juice or something on entering their home.

A Russian friend has already boiled a pot of tea and set out a plate of cookies and open-faced sandwiches in the kitchen.

6.

A normal friend will show you their suburban hometown and introduce you to their parents.

A Russian friend will take you to the remote, ramshackle towns where they grew up to show you the “real” Russia that exists outside of Moscow and St. Petersburg.

7.

A normal friend will take you to museums and monuments to teach you about their town’s local history.

A Russian friend will escort you to structurally unsound WWII bunkers and abandoned Soviet hospitals — remnants of the country’s tumultuous past.

8.

A normal friend will list some of their favorite poets when you express an interest in poetry.

A Russian friend will instantly recite an entire five-page Pushkin poem from memory, their voice undulating with emotion and their face smug with satisfaction. Finally, all those dreaded literature drills in elementary school have paid off…to impress foreigners.

9.

A normal friend will let you sleep on their couch for a few days, or even weeks, when you’re between apartments.

A Russian friend will lend you their entire apartment, moving back in with their parents for whatever time is necessary for you to find a permanent place to live.

10.

A normal friend will awkwardly look down and feel embarrassed when you unwittingly commit a cultural faux pas.

A Russian friend will call you out for being an uncultured American — eating your pizza with your hands, or wearing your gloves inside. And don’t forget to take your shoes off when entering someone’s home!

11.

A normal friend will go shopping with you when you find yourself in need of an extra warm winter jacket.

A Russian friend will thrust their aunt’s old fur coats and hats on you, insisting you look fabulous even though you feel like you’ve been swallowed by a Soviet bear.

12.

A normal friend will accept you if you identify as LGBT.

A Russian friend insists that you just haven’t met the right guy / girl yet.

13.

A normal friend will suggest that you visit a psychiatrist when you’re depressed.

A Russian friend will tell you shrinks and antidepressants are useless, and that the most effective recipe for happiness is vitamins and exercise.

14.

A normal friend will suggest going out to a restaurant for dinner.

A Russian friend will go grocery shopping with you for your favorite food and then make you a delicious home-cooked meal.

15.

A normal friend will greet you with the standard, “Hi, how are you?” and respond, “I’m good, thanks!”

A Russian friend wastes neither time nor smiling muscles on such meaningless niceties. The most common response to the question “How are you?” is normal’no — “normal.”

French idioms travelers should know

Photo: Georgina Cabrera

1. Saoul comme un Polonais | To be very drunk

Nobody likes to stereotype, but let’s face it, the Eastern Europeans can drink. A lot. Hence, “to be as drunk as a Pole.”

Example:

A: Why is Johnny dancing half naked, with a banana skirt around his waist, on the hostel’s front desk?

B: He just had a glass of white wine, he is “saoul comme un Polonais.”
2. Pour une bouchée de pain | For cheap

Talk about being obsessed with bread! Back when a “tartine” was not a bloody luxury (One euro for a baguette?! I still remember when it only cost 0.80 Francs, and I’m only 28) you could compare anything cheap with “a mouthful” of the stuff.

Example:

A: How much did that plane ticket to Paris cost you?

B:“Une bouchée de pain!” Seattle to Paris in a cramped coach seat: $1,700! What a deal!
3. Comme un lettre à la poste — Easy peasy

We are very fond of our postal services in France. It works well, it’s relatively cheap, and La Poste even doubles as a bank! You buy a stamp and make a deposit on your savings account: one stone, two birds.

Example:

A: I was scared that the French border agents were going to pull me aside and interview me for hours about my four-week stay in France.

B: The US Immigration Services have deeply traumatized you, haven’t they? Don’t worry, Charles de Gaulle is a joke of an airport, so everything will go just as smoothly as “Une lettre à la poste.”
4. Jeter l’argent par les fenêtres — To spend money irresponsibly

All that drinking has made a big dent into your travel budget, so if you don’t want to spend the night on the streets with your backpack as your pillow/mattress, stop “throwing your money out the window.”

5. Être sur la paille — To be broke

In the olden days when there was no money for a hostel bed and no backpack to lay on, one would “sleep in a bed of straw.” That’s a sure way to say to the world that you’re penniless.

Example:

A: We should take the train from Paris to London. It’s less than a three-hour ride!

B: I can’t, “J’suis sur la paille.” I guess I’ll go visit the beautiful Parisian suburbs while you have fun in Jolly Old England.
6. Travailler au noir — To work under the table

You need to replenish that very thin wallet of yours? Working “in the dark” is not a euphemism for prostitution, but it’s the best way to make money without a work visa and not being caught…

Example:

A: How did you make all that money?

B: “J’ai travaillé au noir” cleaning the hostel’s bathrooms for one week.

A: Yuck, I think I’d rather have opted for the whoring gig.
7. En voiture Simone — Let’s go!

Who cares who Simone is? She’s “getting in the car” and so are you! It’s time to hit the road and have some fun around the million roundabouts France is plagued with.

8. Mettre les voiles — Leaving in a hurry

Your adventure in France was a blast, but if you don’t want to be accused to overstay and be nabbed for working as an illegal maid, you’d better “sail away”.

Example:

A: Is that a cop car outside the hostel?

B: Enough of France, I think it’s time to “mettre les voiles”

Drone video of Occupy Central

Follow Matador on Vimeo


Follow Matador on YouTube

THERE WAS A TIME when I doubted the power of protest in 21st century political movements. They seemed to have more of an effect in the 1960s and 70s, but Occupy Central’s fight for universal suffrage has me thinking otherwise. The basis for the protests, led by students and others in Hong Kong wishing to distance themselves from Mainland China, is peaceful and thought-provoking.

Whereas Occupy Wall Street was a pastiche of a few hundred people milling about Zuccotti Square each day (some fighting for economic equality, others taking thinking it more of a tourist attraction), Occupy Central has already seen a sit-in protest of over 13,000 students, and aims to continue the peaceful protests through the end of this week. The drone footage, captured by Apple Daily news, provides an eye-opening look at the enormity of these protests.

You can learn more about the Occupy Central movement here.

Acknowledge these languages now

Members of the Caddo tribe. Photo: Texas A&M University-Commerce Marketing Communications Photography

Of the estimated 7,000 languages spoken in the world today, many are at risk of extinction. According to The Endangered Languages Project, 50% of them will be lost by the year 2100 because their last remaining speakers will have either died or chosen to abandon the language in an effort to speak another more widely accepted one.

A leading offender in language loss is oppression. Rather than embrace the diversity different languages bring, many societies force speakers to abandon their native tongue in order to be accepted. Speaking the lingua franca might make it easier for someone to function within a community, but what’s left behind represents a great loss of culture. When we lose a language completely, we lose the unique cultural traditions that went along with it. All of that knowledge and history simply disappear as we move forward to become a singular, giant one-size-fits-all Earth culture.

This is everyone’s problem. When I became interested in endangered languages, I ignorantly pictured their speakers oceans away from the US. I pictured the tribes I’d heard about in my college anthropology course, far removed from civilization. In reality, many of these struggling-language speakers live very close to me. And they’re engaged in a lifelong effort to preserve their linguistic knowledge in the face of more dominantly spoken languages (i.e., English).

There are actually 206 endangered languages in the US alone. Here are just five of them, five that can still be saved.

1. Central Pomo and Kashaya

Background: The Pomo languages are part of the larger Hokan family of languages — once spoken in the southwestern US and northwestern Mexico. There used to be seven different Pomo languages. However, the Gold Rush brought massacre and Native American slavery to the West Coast, causing all but two to be lost.

Remaining speakers: Kashaya is only spoken by “several dozen” people, and Central Pomo fewer than that. Both languages are primarily spoken by elders, who are trying to pass the language down to the younger members of the community.

Example of Central Pomo:

Example of Kashaya:

The National Endowment for the Humanities provides an audio clip of Kashaya speaker Essie Parrish giving an interview in the endangered language here.

2. Caddo

Background: Primarily spoken in Caddo County, Oklahoma, near Binger and Anadarko, the language used to have several different dialects. Even with their differences, each dialect was understood by every Caddo member. Today, the Hasinai and Hainai dialects are the predominant ones.

Remaining speakers: Fewer than 25 elderly community members.

Examples: A vocabulary guide with audio examples can be found on the Caddo Nation website.

3. Ahtna

Background: Originating in southern-central Alaska and Canada, Ahtna is an Athabaskan language. Its tribal population was once spread over eight different communities along the Copper River, but it’s now dwindled to 500.

Remaining speakers: 80, with a mix of both elders and young.

Example:

4. Assiniboine

Background: Also known as Nakota or Nakoda, Assiniboine is a Siouan language of the Great Plains, primarily spoken in northern Montana and southern Saskatchewan. It pairs well with two other Siouan dialects in nearby areas: Stoney of southwestern Alberta and Sioux of North and South Dakota and Minnesota. Although these dialects aren’t the same, they can be easily intersected with one another, which has allowed Siouan languages to be passed on.

Remaining speakers: Fewer than 150 with no speakers younger than 40 years old.

Examples: A vocabulary guide, including some picture dictionaries, can be found here.

5. Alabama

Background: The Alabaman people used to live primarily in the state to which they gave their name. However, a forced relocation in the early 1800s moved them to East Texas, where they share reservation land with their “traditional allies” the Coushattas. Alabama is one of the six Muskogean languages spoken in the southeastern US.

Remaining speakers: 250 to 300 members of the Alabama-Coushatta Indian Reservation. Most speakers are over the age of 50, and Alabama is the “language of choice” at the local senior citizen center. However, The Endangered Languages Project says there are younger speakers as well, probably in their teens.

Examples: Alabama vocabulary and pronunciation guides can be found here.

Colliding vessels on the Suez Canal

Follow Matador on Vimeo


Follow Matador on YouTube

WHEN I THINK OF CANALS, I envision these tiny, man-made channels of water big enough only for a single cruise ship to sail through at one time. That’s pretty much true — even at 673 feet wide, vessels can only pass through in one direction on the Suez Canal (although construction has begun to allow simultaneous passage by the summer of 2015).

So it baffles my mind that, even with as much space and regulation as there is for this passage, these two ships could possibly get close enough to actually crash into each other; at least three containers were lost to sea between Germany’s MV Colombo Express colliding with Singapore’s MV Maersk Tanjong. I thought the highlight of the video was really the chorus “Ohhhhhhhh!”s similar to the sounds of frat guys watching an episode of Tosh.0.

H/T via EuroNews

10 things I miss about Iceland

Photo: Bo Stern

1. The meats

Puffin. Mini lobsters. Whale so juicy and tender that it melted in my mouth and gave me one of the greatest foodgasms ever. Icelandic meat is particularly controversial for many travelers, but knowing how environmentally conscientious the Icelandic people are, I can’t imagine their food-production methods are as heinous and corrupt as those in the US.

2. The other-worldliness

It felt like I had landed on another planet. Between the aurora borealis swirling around every night (like it was no big deal), the crunchy, gray glaciers of Vatnajökull, the Bárðarbunga volcano system ready to spew at any minute, the black basalt beaches of Vík littered with clear, curvy ice blocks, and fields of yellow flowers sprouting out of red earth in between Gullfoss and Geysir, I had forgotten that New York City was a five-hour plane ride away.

3. The pragmatic people

I had a conversation with an 18-year-old Icelandic kid about why he would vote for Libertarian candidate Gary Johnson in the 2012 presidential election. I didn’t even know who Gary Johnson was at the time. Icelandic people are honest, helpful, incredibly intelligent, and super laid back. It was also cool to be the straight-minority, for once; everyone we partied with during the rúntur was part of the LGBTQ community.

4. The knitwear

While I’m happy I passed on a $200 Icelandic sweater, I wasn’t for want of wooly goods. I picked up some awesome hand and wrist warmers at the Kolaportið flea market, where an Icelandic granny knit them before my very eyes. After talking to them, I learned the grannies had a friend who owned a sheep farm, and spun her own wool. So obviously I had to pick up a pair of socks too, knowing that everything was completely manufactured in-country.

5. The animals

Icelandic ponies are beautiful, docile creatures that enjoy interacting with strangers stopping along the road to give them a quick pat on the nose. My friend Lindsey and I also got involved with Réttir (annual sheep round-up) when we got lost driving back to Reykjavík — they nearly knocked us on our asses trying to cross the road. And even though I ate them, seeing puffins and whales in their natural habitat was pretty exciting.

6. The nature

We had a fantastic view of Mount Esja from our window at KEX Hostel; and a 15-minute drive outside of the city brought us to natural hot springs, mossy, rounded lava fields, and mountain outcrops whose peaks were so high sometimes, we couldn’t see them on cloudy days. It was like a geologist’s wet dream, and overwhelmingly environmental, coming from a place where the biggest park is still surrounded by skyscrapers.

7. The architecture

One of my favorite things was just walking around the back streets of Reykjavík, looking into peoples’ homes. I know that sounds creepy, but I loved the tiny houses painted in bright blue, red, and yellow, filled with quirky tchotchkes (like glass elves, furry pillows, and geometric vases) and distinctly Scandinavian furnishings.

8. The humor

Icelandic people are the funniest people I’ve ever met. I never buy t-shirts abroad, but I came home with six cheeky silk-screened souvenirs with slogans like, “Eyjafjallajökull is so easy to pronounce,” and “ég tala ekki íslensku” (I don’t speak Icelandic). Scrolling through the Reykjavík Grapevine makes me pee my pants every time, with legit titles such as, “Holuhraun Growing Rapidly, Gandalf May Be Investigating,” and “Tourist Family Laughs As Teen Son Freezes” on their homepage.

9. The freshness

Never have I inhaled air that was so pure and fresh as I did in Iceland. It was about as cold as a New York winter while I was there, but I didn’t mind because of how natural the rain, wind, and snow felt in that sort of environment. Icelandic water is also no joke — it’s perfectly fine to drink from the tap or a random stream, and doesn’t taste like it came from a bottling plant.

10. The blue

I associate a lot of my trip to Iceland with the color blue. It’s the most prominent color of the Icelandic flag. Many buildings are painted in this bright, primary-color blue. The mountains and glaciers often reflect a bright blue, or slate color from a distance. Jökulsárlón (the glacier lagoon) is beyond the most blue thing I’ve ever seen, and the ponds at Þingvellir National Park were so clear, they looked like electric blue pools of a Caribbean beach.

And 3 things I don’t miss whatsoever
1. The coffee

I’m not a coffee drinker by most New York standards, but I do enjoy a nice cup or two to get me going on particularly sluggish mornings. Icelandic coffee makes Nescafé taste like a treat — it’s watery, or too burnt, or just plain nasty. Who knows, maybe I just went to the wrong places. Lindsey and I had several disappointing experiences picking up coffee at various cafes and rest stops though, even resorting to soda and energy drinks to avoid the stuff.

2. The language

I’m not trying to diss on the language here — it’s seriously cool and I wish I could speak it. But trying to say anything in Icelandic became an embarrassing jumble of consonants, guttural sounds, and finally just apologies in English. I memorized the spelling of the city names so we could get around, but hells no do I want to attempt saying Hafnarfjörður, or Sauðárkrókur, ever again.

3. The petrol situation

Pumping gas around Iceland was the most harrowing experience Lindsey and I had. Sometimes we drove for hours without seeing a sign for a petrol station. Once we found one, the process never seemed consistent; sometimes you had to pay for the amount you needed before you pumped, other times you had to keep your credit card in the slot, pump, then calculate the price. Trying to convert litres to gallons and Icelandic krona to US dollars was insane enough — then there was the time when Lindsey paid for about $50 worth of gas, when we only needed about $15.

7 signs your best friend is Australian

Photo Credit: colinlogan via Compfight cc

1. You’ve learned to speak Australian.

You first met your Australian best friend 10 years ago while teaching in a dodgy language school in South Korea. She rolled into work that first morning claiming to be ‘buggered’ and saying she was going to ‘pike’ right after classes. You thought your fellow co-teacher might be… going hiking? Who knows? She had a bloody thick accent, but an instant friendship was formed nonetheless.

Discussions regarding the subtle nuances between Aussie vs. American English quickly followed. Now you let the Aussie lingo rip without a second thought. You don’t even realize you’re doing it anymore. They just sound like normal words. That’s not to say other people don’t notice. They do, and they find your word choices rather odd. Whatever. Those yobbos can mind their own bizzo.

2. You love Vegemite.

You even order it off Amazon, and you don’t buy into the whole ‘it’s the same as Marmite’ philosophy. Vegemite is the only philosophy when it comes to strong punchy B vitamins in a dark tar-like spreadable substance. You put only a light coating on your Salada as you know not to overpower your tastebuds with that salty, yeasty, malty mess of pungent flavour. (By the way, that’s how you spell ‘flavour’ now.) You can feel the B vitamins taking effect. Basically, making you a better person. Mozzies won’t touch you now, so dengue fever and malaria are one less thing to worry about. Good onya!

3. You go on pie quests.

You frequently accompany your bestie on pie finding missions throughout LA. Not fruity sweet pies. You’re on the hunt for hearty meat pies in a very specific crust. It needs a delicate, tender, flaky crust. Much like puff pastry. It can’t be the heavy lard-ridden kind your Grandma uses for apple pies. You stand with your mate in solidarity at a local pie shop—a supposed purveyor of authentic Oz pies—as she explains to the non-Australian owner in great detail how that’s NOT a pie. You nod your head in fierce agreement and mentally do the line from Crocodile Dundee: that’s not a knife…

p.s.. While we’re on the subject of food, you can slam a Tim Tam like a champ.

4. You know what comes after Aussie Aussie Aussie…

…Oi Oi Oi!

Aussie!

Oi!

Aussie!

Oi (Repeat.)

Not only do you know this, you’re often the one starting it.

5. She has a different perspective on spiders.

While camping, you happen upon a freakishly large beast of a spider. It’s probably escaped from some laboratory where they do experiments on normal spiders to see if they can even make freakishly large beast spiders. They can. You yell across the campsite and describe this eight-legged monstrosity to your friend.

“It must’ve had babies. There’s heaps over here that look exactly like what you’re talking about only much, MUCH smaller,” she shouts back.

You investigate and quickly discover your spider is actually the runt.

6. Your name has been changed.

You’re no longer Sarah. You’re Sares. Everyone you meet through your best mate will call you Sares. This is fine because they’re mostly Aussies and they pronounce it S-airs. Americans will call you Sars and you’ll feel like a bird flu.

On the flip si

de, you have no idea how to address her family and friends. You know his name is Warren but they all call him Wazzaaaaaa! Then there’s Davo, Benno, Karza, Prustar, Smell, Morgy, Lozza! You often end up doing some kind of awkward fusion of their real name and the Australian version of their name because you feel uncomfortable committing to either. You find it best to avoid using names all together.

7. You know Chris Hemsworth was in Home and Away…

and little brother Liam was in Neighbours. Toni Collette will always be Muriel, and Eric Bana is Chopper. Or maybe you have a particular fondness for him as the passionate kickboxing son-in-law in the iconic film The Castle which you’ve seen half a dozen times because your best friend is Australian. In fact, when you show her this listicle, she beams and tells you it’s going straight to the pool room!

Story behind the shot: Lost Coast

Photo by author

In this series, we dig a little deeper into the photographic process behind some of the coolest shots we’ve seen.

Photographer: Joshua Thaisen

After a six-hour drive north of San Francisco on the 101, my partner Brianna and I arrived at the southern trailhead to attempt a double traverse of the Lost Coast Trail. This photo of Bri was taken a couple of miles south of Rattlesnake Ridge, right after sunrise on our fifth morning in the wilderness. We were on the home stretch of the trail — an eight-mile race against the incoming tide to get through a dangerous high-tide impasse notorious for washing slow hikers out to sea.