South Australian Museum

Even though I arrived in Adelaide on a Tuesday, I decided not to start my volunteering until Monday. This gave me plenty of time to master the public transportation, orient myself with the area, and sightsee a little bit. Since Jess worked nights and slept during the day, I had to figure it out on my own starting from the apartment. My goal was to find my way to the city and visit any free places I could find. The train was a bit farther than I was willing to walk every morning, so I decided on the bus. I didn't actually have a clue where I was going. Before leaving the house, I tried searching online for buses that would go from the apartment to the city, but the timetables just gave big intersection names (none nearby me) and I could only look up timetables with the bus numbers, which I didn't have. So I just left the house with only a guess as to where a bus stop might be, and a hope that the sign would be well marked enough to tell where the bus was headed. I came across one lady standing by a barely marked bus stop sign. I asked her if she was waiting for a bus. Without another word from me she responded "No, I'm waiting for someone. The city bus stop is two blocks down, if you're looking for that. It's bus 157." I thanked her, feeling slightly violated by her reading my mind without permission, and continued on to the correct spot. 

The bus pulled up after a few minutes. I climbed inside and explained to the driver that it was my first time on an Adelaide bus and I had no idea what I was doing. He helped me through the process of buying a small piece of white paper with a stripe on it. He then got out of his seat to come show me how to work the ticket reading machine, and let me know that I could use the ticket for my return as well. I was amazed at how nice he was, but felt a little bad for slowing the bus down for everyone else. Later on in the week I met oppositely mean bus driver who yelled at people for not running fast enough from the bench to the bus door, so I can't give any generalization on the bus drivers in Adelaide. 

I did like the feel of Adelaide more than Melbourne. I'm honestly not sure if this is because I like Adelaide more or because I got so sick of Melbourne. There were many preformers along the street every time I went into town. It sure helps waiting for the bus when you can watch a trapeze act to pass the time. Most of the people seemed very nice, though I didn't really talk to many people. I mostly wandered the town looking at things that seemed noteworthy. Out of all of them, I think the large metal statues of a cochroach and pigs were the least expected. The main area was mostly set up like an outdoor mall, filled with food courts and shopping.

After a bit of exploring, I headed into the South Australian Museum. It was completely free! The first part I went through was the taxidermied animal display. Unlike Melbourne Museum, SA Museum displayed their animals in divided sections pertaining to where in the world they could be found. The funniest section was North America. The porcupine had no quills left on it, making it appear nearly cuddly. The Virginia opossum looked like they took the fur from a large opossum and put it on a tiny frame, giving it the look of an anorexic opossum with thick, beautiful fur. The biggest thing I noticed was that the moose was labeled as an elk! This made me go back over to the elk, where I discovered that it was labeled as a wapiti. I decided to google the issue before bringing it up to anyone. Turns out that half the world goes by these names. So if someone calls a moose an elk, it's technically still correct.

Next, I went through a very long floor of indigenous artifacts and history. While I am interested in broad topics about race relations in Australia and the lost generations, I can only look at sharpened stones, spears, bowls, and animal skins so much. Thankfully, the next floor was animals again! There was a discovery center with live animals and some preserved specimens. 

Multi-lizard species exhibit (alive)

Huntsman Spider (alive). Thank God I haven't come across a wild one... yet...

Was unable to locate this "Carnivorous Snail"

This baby ocelot is manages to still stay absolutely adorable.

Sign Says: "Growth of an echidna: A female echidna makes a temporary pouch of folded skin to protect and carry her single egg, which hatches after about ten days. Milk oozes from her mammary glands and the puggle (Please take a moment to realize how adorable it is that baby echidnas are called puggles!) sucks it from her fur. The infant is evicted from the pouch when it starts growing its spines."

Sign Says: "Growth of a kangaroo: After it is born, a joey crawls into its mother's pouch using its front paws. It takes one of her teats into its mouth. The teat provides different kinds of milk as the Joey grows. The mother keeps her pouch clean by licking out the joey's waste."

The animal displays continued outside of the discovery center. The life-like posing of taxidermied animals and skeletons was very impressive! For display purposes, lighting tended to be brightly focused on exhibits, so the picture quality isn't great.

Fruit bat skeleton in a flying position. I love the way that their fingers make up the frame of the wings.

This one was pretty fantastic! It was a combination of bones from a wide variety of animals which challenged you to figure out what part belong to what animal. 

Around the corner was a curtain with the last known footage of a live thylacine projected on it. Behind the curtain was a small room with taxidermied animals that have gone extinct in South australia. Some, like the thylacine were completely hunted out of existence, while others are species that used to occur in the state of South Australia, but no longer do.

Sign Says "Thylacine. Not tigers, not dogs. Tasmanian Tigers looked like dogs, but were marsupials and carried their young in a backward-opening pouch. After hitching a ride with mum, much like a kangaroo joey does, they left the pouch at a young age and remained in a nest until weaned. 

They once lived throughout Australia, but long before Europeans arrived they were extinct on the mainland and found only in Tasmania. Competition with Dingoes may have contributed to their extinction on the mainland.

Tasmanian Tigers had a reputation as vicious sheep killers and the Tasmanian Government paid a bounty for each one killed. In the early 1900s disease and loss of habitat added to their woes. The last wild animal was seen in 1933. Three years later, when the last captive animal died, the Tasmianian Tiger was finally protected from hunting. A reserve was created for the species 36 years later- too late!

Here at the South Australian Museum we have the best display specimens in the world. These came from the Adelaide Zoo around 1900."

Species that no longer exist within the state of South Australia, but did at one point in time.

There was a decent sized exhibit about ocean creatures, but I wasn't feeling too interested in fish, and I didn't have a ton of time, so I skipped the majority of it. The most interesting part was a life size replica of a giant squid which spanned three floors, allowing you to see from above on the fourth floor and through a glass window on the lower floors.

View from fourth floor looking down.

The underwater exhibit slowly transitioned with one about ancient sea creatures that used to live off of South Australia. The main one focused on was the plesiosaur.

A replica of what a plesiosaur might have looked like based on fossil evidence. 

"Addyman Plesiosaur: A National Treasure. The Addyman Plesiosaur is the finest known opalised skeleton on Earth. These bones are the opalised remains of a marine reptile that swam and hunted in the icy seas of inland Australia, 330 million years ago. The Addyman Plesiosaur is a priceless part of our national heritage. It provides vital evidence of the past life of an ancient extinct predator. The fossil was discovered in 1968, and excavated from the andamooka opal fields by the Addyman family."

Smaller model head on top. Cast of actual skull below.

"Tiny teeth: The fine, needle-like teeth of the plesiosaur may have acted like a sieve to trap small fish and shrimp."

"Extinction of Dinosaurs and Marine Reptiles. A mass extinction wiped out three-quarters of all animal species at the end of the Cretaceous Period, 65 million years ago. All dinosaurs, most marine reptiles, and many other groups of animals and plants disappeared forever."

Through the following doorway, I found several casts of Australian megafauna and similar animals. I already was familiar with most of them, except for the Marsupial Lion.

"Fearsome Predator: Thylacoleo was described as a marsupial lion. It was a unique marsupial carnivore with a large hooded claw on an opposable thumb. It lived in the open forest and may have hunted at night, possibly climbing trees to ambush its prey."

"Described from fossil remains by the eminent paleontologist Sir Richard Owen in 1839. Noting the cat-like proportions of its head and the huge blade-like cutting teeth he named it a marsupial lion. Thylacoleo's ancestry lies with Australia's herbivorous marsupials, the possums, the wombats, the kangaroos. Thylacoleo is really more like a giant killer possum than a lion."

Representation of the marsupial lion based on fossil evidence.

The next floor was filled with Polynesian artifacts. This wasn't very interesting to me, except for the particularly creepy masks lining the walls.

Just as I was about to leave the museum, I glanced at the map and notice an Egyption exhibit that I missed. I headed back up to the third floor. There I found a small, slightly dated looking room filled with Egyption artifacts. My favorite was their collection of mummified animals.

Mummified Hawk

Sign Says "The hawk was the sacred bird of many gods, including Ra, the sun god, Horus the son of Osiris and Sokaris, a god of darkness and decay. Herodotus, a Greek historian, wrote about the hawks that were kept by the priests in the temples of Ra, the sun god. They were fed at the public's expense and mummified when they died. Any person who harmed a hawk was severely fined. Killing a hawk was punishable by death."

Cat Mummies

Sign Says "Cats were the sacred animals of the goddess Bastet, a local deity of the Delta region of Egypt. She was usually represented as a woman with the head of a cat." "According to the Greek historian Herodotus, it was considered a crime to harm a cat. When a pet cat died, members of the household shaved their eyebrows as a sign of mourning and sent the bodies to be mummified."

There were human mummies as well, but I didn't look at them in great detail before it was time to leave the museum and head home.

Arriving in Adelaide

Over my last couple of weeks in Melbourne, I made arrangements to head to a new city... Adelaide. Adelaide is relatively close to Melbourne, just over an hour flight to the west. A month or two previously I had put out feelers for couch surfing opportunities. Even if I didn't have any animal opportunities there, it might be worth visiting if it was cheap to do so. I got a few replies. One looked really great. A lady named Jess lived on the beach, only a bus ride from the city. She had an extra bedroom and worked nights. Her profile had good references and all of the info checked out. 

So I knew free housing was available. Now was time to search for opportunities to work with wildlife in the area. Before coming to Australia, I corresponded with the curator of Zoos South Australia about such opportunities at his facilities. He was very kind and helpful, but wasn't able to offer anything short term, unpaid or paid. I attempted to contact two recommended zookeepers whom others thought might be willing to meet with me, but neither responded. Since the zoo side of things wasn't going to work, I went to my equally favorite profession, wildlife rehabilitation. In Australia, it seems most rehabilitation is done by certified people within their home. When someone from the public finds an injured/orphan wild animal they call an organization which then either picks up the animal to bring to the private rehabber or instructs the person to call the rehabber directly. As a result, a single organization may know every wildlife rehabilitation location within an area, such as Adelaide. I emailed one of these organizations explaining who I was and that I was looking to gain more experience with and knowledge of Australian animals. I was delighted to receive a response from the directior of an actual rehabilitation center. A koala hospital had just opened in Adelaide, and the director (Rae) was happy to have my help during my time in Adelaide. It couldn't have fallen into place better! 

All that was left now was to buy my ticket and leave Melbourne. Hayley, Kev, and Lorna threw me a great Aussie send off of a dinner party before I left. Thanks guys! After the party, I pulled another all nighter, only sleeping one hour before the taxi came to pick me up at 5:30am. Eventually, I will learn how to pack like a normal person... I hope. The reason it took so long was that my stuff had exponentially multiplied since October. I swear, 99% of the stuff is just clothes. I had to play the cruel game of "Do I really NEED this item?" again and again. So much stuff had to be left behind. I miss you pretty nail polish. I miss you book about the history of reptile smuggling. I miss you space heater. :( yeah, that "roughing it" stuff doesn't really work for me. 

By the time the taxi came, I had squeezed all my possessions into a purse, a duffel bag, and a hard covered suitcase that I like to call "The Refrigerator" due to its giant size and shape. The taxi driver was a funny and interesting older man. We had a wonderful conversation which I have now forgotten every word of due to sleep deprivation. I arrived at the airport and failed at attempting to look like the weight of my bags wasn't crushing me. At the counter, the airline lady informed me that my bag was over the weight limit I selected when purchasing my ticket. You see, Jetstar is a sneaky little *madlib favorite curse word here.* Their tickets are dirt cheap, but they make you pay for everything else. It costs extra to pick what seat you want; the better the seat, the more you pay. It costs extra to have a snack or drink on the plane. It costs extra to check baggage. You pay more, the more your baggage weighs. The catch is that you have to make sure your bag does not go over this number at all! I don't remember the exact ratio they charged me for a slightly heavier bag, but it was something around $30 per kg. Not cool. (Remember, I had already paid extra to check a bag in the first place.) It was either pay or miss the flight. Overall, it cost more to take my bag to Adelaide than to take me!

Jess kindly had offered to not only pick me up from the airport, but also take me sight seeing on my first day in Adelaide. Her top ideas were going to a winery or spending the day at the beach. Unfortunately, neither of those options were well suited for me. I felt bad for turning them down, but I also knew I'd be miserable at either place. 1) I hate wine. It's icky. 2) I was still recovering from my sunburn from Soundwave. It was just getting past the "eye of Sauron" phase and on to the "do you have a skin disease?" look. Not quite ready for the beach. Instead we went out for breakfast, where I had Canadian Pancakes (yes, I ordered them purely for the name), and then went off to Granite Island.

Granite Island is a boulder filled pocket of land just off of Victor Harbor. The brochure says that the island is 62 acres. Jess and I walked the entire perimeter. Most of this time was spent getting to know each other a bit better and taking pictures. The walk was beautiful. A long path leading to the island was completed in 1875, allowing visitors to walk the 2,073 feet to the island. The unique horse drawn tram began in 1894, and is still carrying paying visitors back and forth from the island today, despite a 30 year hiatus. We did not pay extra for the horse tram ride, but I made sure to grab a picture before we left.

Granite Island is also home to an ever decreasing population of Little Penguins, the same species I have seen at St. Kilda beach just outside of Melbourne. Little Penguins, also known as Blue or Fairy Penguins, are the smallest species in the world, standing at just over one foot tall. They live in burrowed nests around boulders, making Granite Island a perfect habitat. They are mostly diurnal, feeding on fish and squid in the ocean during the day, and returning to their burrows to rest over night. We didn't see any during our afternoon visit, but it wasn't a huge disappointment since I've now seen them several times. There was a penguin center near the island that allowed viewing of some of their Little Penguins, but we opted out of that. The picture below is of the same species of penguin I saw a few weeks before at St. Kilda beach.

Nearby was a Whale Center. This facility also charged for entry, but it was worth paying. Victor Harbor (the town we were in) was, at one time, a spot for whaling. Over time they have shifted from killing whales to teaching people about them for their conservation. Once again, I didn't see any whales while visiting, but I saw enough spouts of water from humpbacks in Hawaii to make me feel like I wasn't missing much. The whale center was interesting. It was filled with skeletons of various whales and other marine mammals. It talked a lot about oils used from whaling in the past. There was also a short 3D documentary movie playing in a make-shift theater on the bottom floor.

Thankfully, Since Jess worked nights she was just as sleep deprived as me. We headed back to her place, north west of Adelaide, on the beach. Her apartment has two bedrooms, meaning I had my very own room for free during my visit. She has a cat named Princess Mia who enjoys being in someone's lap at all times. It was so nice to have a pet in the house after five months! The best part of her apartment was the location; it was directly on the beach! The sand was a beautiful off-white, with the only downside being that one of the most deadly snakes in the world lived there. My first time walking down a beach pathway, I was warned to not go down the sidewalk due to a brown snake right on the edge. This warning wasn't really needed as it was obvious people were avoiding the path as if it would kill them to walk within a mile of the snake. Regardless, the couch surfing definitely worked out in my favor! 

Both of these snake warning signs were on the beach pathways just outside of the apartment. I was relieved that at least sharks and jellyfish weren't on any signs. The next day I asked Jess about the helicopters flying continuously over the beach. She said that there was a huge shark frenzy moving through that they were monitoring. I decided that I didn't really want to swim while in Adelaide anyway.

 Jess's cat- Princess Mia

Melbourne Soundwave

After making all the arrangements to return to Melbourne from Hawaii on Valentine's Day, I found out that AFI would be playing a show only blocks away from my aunts apartment days after I planned to leave. AFI is my favorite band. Well, tied with Nickel Creek for favorite, at least. I've alway loved going to concerts. It started with country concerts in Nashville, then music festivals in Chicago and Milwaukee, and later favorite bands touring near me. I've seen AFI twice before, the last time in 2009, and they are definately worth seeing again. Before leaving Minnesota, I missed an AFI concert, and I was missing another in Hawaii. I decided to bookmark the tour dates so I wouldn't miss any again. That was when I found out they were scheduled to play two concerts in Melbourne within the month! Either they or God clearly wanted me to go to a concert! Right? :) Unfortunately, I couldn't justify the price of a ticket while traveling. The first Melbourne concert came and went. I was bored in Melbourne, trying to occupy my time with free activities while waiting for my next trip. The night before the last Melbourne concert AFI would be playing, I called my aunt Bernadette. I didn't even need to ask. She said that she knew I was dying to go. Instead of buying the ticket and going, she knew I would save the money and spend all week depressed about it. Being the best auntie in the whole world, she offered to buy the ticket for me so I could finally go see them! Yes, I know I am spoiled. (I will likely have to pay this back at some point in my life.)

This specific AFI concert was part of an Australian music festival called Soundwave. (Though 95% of the bands were American.) I cannot fully explain how excited I was about this! I made a list of people I sorta kinda knew that were going to the festival. A lot of the bands were metal, which occasionally brings in large men who like to dance in form of punching and kicking. When you are a just over five foot tall lady, it does some good to surround yourself with a group of people who prefer light head banging, however stupid it may look. 

Here are some things I have learned from years of going to concerts:

1) Never wear heels. The pros of heels are that they increase the likelihood of actually seeing the stage, and they can be used as a weapon if a zombie apocalypse happens at the festival. (Too much of The Walking Dead.) The cons are that your feet will be in agony halfway through the day (if you are used to heels), and you will undoubtedly step on someone else's foot, making them angry.

2) Wear black tights or comfortable, light pants. Exposed skin burns and jeans are way too hot when you are in such a confined space for hours. 

3) Bring layers. It always gets really hot and then really cold. This is especially true in Melbourne.

4) Sunblock is essential. You will still burn.

5) Always hold the front barricade. Front row seat every time with no danger of being swept into a mosh pit. 

6) If you are being trampled, get out. No band is worth dying in a pool of man sweat and spilt beer.

7) Only sing the words if you actually know them. 

I'm sure nobody cares about this part, but I looked adorable that day! I wore a casual red and black knee length dress with pockets, and completely black tights underneath, with Toms for my shoes. My hair was in a messy braided top knot. I greatly dislike when I'm at a concert and the hair of the person next to me flies into my face. Before I left, I ate a PB&J and brought a peach and some dried fruit to snack on. That was all I ended up eating until I left the festival 14 hours later. 

The festival was close, but a bit too far to walk. The train would've taken me all the way to the city and back. I don't like taking trams because they are usually crowded and make horrible screeching noises. This left the option of a bus, which would take a straight shot from my apartment to the festival grounds. After I took a seat, I pulled out my phone GPS to make sure I would recognize my stop. A middle-aged Australian man sat next to me and inquired where I was going. I distractedly said that I was heading to the Soundwave Festival. And then he began talking... "I live close by there. I reckon there will be a lot of drunk trouble makers out tonight. Several years ago, I was out at the bars and some mate hit me right in the skull! See that?" He pointed at a scar on his head. I nodded in appropriate sympathy, while trying to not pay so much attention that he would think I was interested in hearing more. He didn't catch on. "Didn't do a thing to this man and I got a month in the hospital. You know what he had to pay for it? Nothing! Places like America you can sue for anything!" This began a longer rant about America and how we can make millions by getting fat or being offended, and how he should've made money from this bar fight. Somewhere in the middle of his speech I noted that even if I wasn't there, he would still have given this rant to an empty bus. In addition, he definately had no idea that he was sitting directly next to an American. 

When I arrived at the festival, I did not fit in. Black band t-shirt was definately the crowd approved wardrobe. I was quite confident that my outfit was perfect and everyone else's weren't as pretty, so that wasn't a problem at all. The fact that I had no sun block was a bit more serious, and there was no way I was paying festival prices for a tiny tube of it. Instead, every time I needed more sunblock, I would look for someone in the crowd with plenty to spare. Everyone was super nice and kept me in sunblock all day. Thanks strangers! Still got burnt, but at least I tried. 

The first band I saw was Amor Amarth. I had never heard of them before, but they were the best band playing at 10 in the morning. Plus, I was mesmerized by the smoothness of their long blonde hair despite the ferocity of their head banging. Someone please find out what conditioner they use. Five Finger Death Punch was on the same stage right after Amor Amarth, so I wedged closer as people lost interest or weren't paying attention. I don't push my way into the front, it's more like a respectful glide into the best spot of the concert. 

Right as FFDP was about to begin their set, I made it to the front, with only one person between me and the barricade. This person happened to be a large man, well over six feet tall. To either side of him stood equally daunting figures. You may hear this and think that I mistook security for concert goers. I didn't. The security had well marked uniforms. These guys were just jerks who wanted the best seat in the place even if it meant not letting anyone else see. Even when I'm on the barricade, I make sure I'm not blocking the view of shorter people. (This never has actually been a problem for me.) Even relatively tall men around me were complaining about the view being blocked. I kept my spot, despite only being able to clearly see the mean man's backside. When the band comes on stage, the crowd always shifts massively. When the band plays their first fast song, mosh pits and a few seriously awkward dancers open up spaces in the crowd. I stayed in the hope that I could use that to my advantage and get a decent spot. What actually happened was the crowd rushed forward, squishing me into huge guy's back sweat filled t-shirt, and then started pushing and pulling me straight toward a mosh pit. I decided this one was a lost cause and that it was time to bail right as I was about to hit the mosh pit. There were two guys behind me. One asked if I was okay and if I wanted to get out. I screamed over the music that I was fine, but couldn't see so wanted to leave this band. The other guy yelled that it was too tightly packed and the only way out was up. They offered to crowd surf me out and I accepted. Each guy grabbed a leg, hoisted me up, and pushed me over the crowd toward the front. I remember thinking "Man, I'm glad I wore black tights!" and then I was at the front being helped down by security. 

It was as I was walking off the side that I looked down and noticed my bag was open. Somehow during crowd surfing it had unsnapped, dropping my iphone. Thankfully, that was the only thing that fell. Upon looking at the crowd, I realized that it would most likely be in the center of where the mosh pit now was. I turned around and asked the security guard where lost and found would be brought. He told me they didn't have one and it was my own fault. This was not an acceptable answer to me, and I'm sure by the end of the day he got a decent talking-to about it from his supervisors. :) 

I stuck around the far edges of the barricade to see if anyone would bring up an iPhone and to listen to the remainer of that set. A girl standing next to me was texting on her iPhone, so I asked if I could post something on my Facebook using her phone, after I explained what had happened with my own phone. She had no problem with that. I figured it would be at least a few hours before I'd get my phone back, and I didn't want people (Mom) to worry if I didn't answer for a long time. 

Near the end of the FFDP concert, a tall French boy (guessing around 17) came up next to me and explained that he too had lost an iPhone in the crowd. He had asked around and found out that an iPhone had been given to security, who said they would bring it to lost and found. So it had to be one of our phones. The stupid security guy was still no help, repeatedly telling us that our phones were lost forever. We searched the area after the concert and found nothing. So, we went on to every group of security we could find. Turns out there were three different security companies working the same festival. Security Company 1 said there was no lost and found. Security Company 2 said there should be a lost and found, but they didn't know where it was. Security Company 3 said lost and found was at the Coat Check. Coat Check said that they were not lost and found. We finally tracked down the security bosses, who seemed thoroughly annoyed by their staff not reading the "clearly stated lost and found spot in the training manual" and were very understanding about our situations. They went to the Coat Check to make sure the employees there knew that it was the lost and found spot, and then sent a tough looking older lady wearing a cowboy hat to help us find our phones and straighten out the stage security. I used her phone to try and call my own. Thankfully, my number is Australian. The French guy hadn't switched over his phone yet, so he couldn't call himself. It took a while, but a mystery number called her phone back. Someone had found my phone! The identifier he gave us was that he was a tall guy in a black band t-shirt. As you can imagine, it took a bit of time playing this advanced rock concert version of Where's Waldo. Eventually, I found him and gave him a hug for returning my phone, which he obviously had no idea how to respond to. The cowboy hat wearing security lady gave him a gift card for his good dead and told me that I needed to pay it forward to someone else in my lifetime. Then she grabbed the French boy and they went off to talk to the mean security man who told us we would never find our phones. It took an hour to get my phone back, but at least everything got figured out with the lost and found. You're welcome to everyone else who lost anything after that.

AFI was just about to begin their set as my phone was returned. I ran at full speed to the far left side of the stage, on the barricade. Asking Alexandra was playing their last few songs as I took my spot. Once they finished, must of the crowd left, allowing me to get a great front row view before other AFI fans arrived. At that point I looked down at my phone to see that I had receive several missed text messages from some of the people I sorta knew who were also at the festival. I decided not to meet with them in order to keep my good spot. As AFI began, I text them explaining that I just found my phone after losing it, and was already too close to the next stage to leave. Meeting with people seemed like way more of a hassle than a benefit by that time. 

AFI was great. The lead singer's voice croaked out a few times, which I've never seen happen before, but I certainly didn't mind. Halfway through the set, he walked upright through the crowd, as he always does. Thankfully, I was in the sweet spot where I could see everything, but wasn't pushed around by the crowd. There was only one song I didn't know in their playlist. That was disappointing since I was pretty sure I would know them all. I guess that's to be expected with a band that's been playing since before I was born.

After AFI, Zebrahead played. I attempted to wedge my way closer to the center of the barricade, but the people in my way were obviously holding out for Panic! At The Disco, as I was. Zebrahead was unremarkable, but Panic was insanely better than I expected. I have also seen Panic play twice before. The first time was at Lollapalooza (Chicago, IL) in 2006. They had just released their first CD, and were touring with a circus act. The show was great due to the performers. Though it was obvious the band was unfamiliar with being on stage. The lead singers voice wavered in every single song. The entire performance hinged on the circus act, which was fantastic. The next time I saw them was at Summerfest (Milwaukee, WI) in 2007. The circus act was gone, and the voices had improved, but the band did little but play instruments and sing. Since I didn't like their second album, and the band broke up soon after, I lost track of them. While in Hawaii, I saw that they had released a new CD which was getting great reviews. It seems half of the band kept going on after the break up. I loved the new CD, so I was excited to hear those songs live. The band blew me away! The lead singers voice was perfect, hitting amazingly high, low, and screaming notes without a problem. Not only was there clear vocal training since 2007, they also picked up a few new tricks from the circus act. My favorite point was when a new song paused halfway through. The entire band froze in extravagant positions. The lead singer, standing in the middle of a flat stage, did a sudden backflip. Simultaneous to him landing, the band continued along with the song as it nothing has occurred. Very impressive.

Thankfully, most of the bands I wanted to see were at the same stage, so I could keep my good spot. Bowling for Soup did a short show between Panic and Pennywise. It was horribly obvious that the crowd was all waiting for Pennywise to begin. Whoever decided Bowling for Soup would be a good opening band for Pennywise, must not listen to either. They played a song or two that hit the charts and spent the remainer of their time playing hit songs that they have been incorrectly given credit for over the years. They finished with the Phinneus & Ferb theme song. I sang along and enjoyed their whole set with the full knowledge that the rugged looking people around me were judging me for actually liking this band. One guy made this clear with occasional negative comments about the music chosen as fillers. 

I have never heard of Pennywise before, but there was no way I was leaving that amazing spot. The crowd was massive for them. I guess that means they are popular... The music was pretty decent, though it was difficult to hear the lyrics of any songs, and it seemed like a band that focused more on lyrics than just sound. There was a group of 10-15 individuals who were running to the back of the crowd and crowd-surfing all the way to the front only to do it again throughout the entire concert. Near the end of their set, the lead singer of Pennywise invited one member of the crowd on stage while singing what I assumed to be their most popular song. This distracted the stage security. Twenty or so people from the crowd took those few seconds to jump the barricade, climb up the speakers, and join in singing on stage. Security went into a futile panic, but the band kept their cool, guiding the group backstage after the song came to a close.

The next opening band was called Finch, but I didn't know them and didn't really pay attention to their music at all. I simply concentrated on not being wedged away from my amazing spot on the barricade by Korn fans. I was pretty unsure about how safe the Korn crowd would be at first; it turned out to be one of the nicer crowds. Even more surprisingly, I fit in with that crowd more than any the whole day. I knew nearly every song Korn played. I danced along with everyone else. It was a great time. My favorite moment was glancing across from me at the guy who had criticized Bowling for Soup so harshly before. He obviously didn't know the Korn song that I was enjoying singing along to. I could tell his surprise that I, a girl singing Phinneus and Ferb songs in a pretty dress, was just a little more of a Korn fan than him. 

When Korn finished, I ran quickly over to the Green Day stage. Jimmy Eat World was just finishing their set, which I listened to as I found a spot. The crowd was already thick with Green Day fans. There were huge screens on either side of the the stage, but I wanted to see the stage for myself. If I wanted to watch a concert on a screen I would've bought a DVD. On the far left side were a few people in wheelchairs with a space behind them. I took that space, but still had to stand on my tippy-toes to see over the people to the right of me. 

I do not recommend ever going to a Green Day concert unless you would like a nice workout for your arms. They played extended versions of all their songs, often stopping in the middle to make people cheer, wave their hands, clap, and so on. They talked a lot. Also, I discovered that I really only know the choruses to most of their songs. I'm usually a very patient person, but I decided to leave a half hour early out of annoyance of them not actually playing any music. 

By the time I decided to leave, it was nearly 11pm at night. The food stands were brilliantly staged by the exit. Every single thing looked amazing after a long day with an empty stomach. I chose the cheapest item, a chicken and fries basket. My goodness, it was heaven! 

As I was waiting for the train to take me home I suddenly realized I had to pee! It had been 9am since I had last used the restroom. Years of long road trips have taught me to hold my bladder without even realizing it. Unfortunately, it was reaching its maximum time. The train was just as crowded as the festival so I had to stand, using every muscle in my body to hold out until the next bathroom. I got off at the first spot I knew that had one, and much happier, I got on a second train to continue the way home. This train was spacious allowing me to sit. It was not until my back leaned onto the seat that I remembered- my dress is an open back dress. There was a large diamond shape of exposed skin that never recieved a drop of sunblock. Ouch. The rest of me was burnt, but that single burn was more like the Eye of Sauron.

I attempted to take my hair down, but it had decided to freeze itself into an impenetrable rats nest. I ended up leaving it half undone, and feel asleep within minutes.

Hawaii: Bad Luck and Sharks

My aunt Bernadette and I have a long running inside joke about sharks. When she and my cousin Anna went to Tonga in 2003 or so, they had an opportunity to go snorkeling. My aunt refused to go in the water for fear that she would be eaten by sharks. My cousin jumped right in and loved it. Ever since then, I have taken upon myself the mission of desensitizing my aunt from sharks. The best way to do this is by exposing her to sharks every chance I get. Thankfully she is a good sport about the torture. Here are a few snippets of pictures I have text her over the years to help, out of the goodness of my heart. 

As you can see, there is always a positive message about how great sharks are! (Hehe!) Before I left for Australia I bought her the movie Sharknado. We sat on the couch and laughed so hard we nearly cried. It turns out that Bernadette is fantastic at predicting ways that sharks can attack from the sky. When I arrived in Honolulu, naturally, I began researching shark encounters. There was one that I really liked; it was called North Shore Shark Adventures. With my magical powers of persuasion, I got her to agree! It was just too perfect after all the years of work I had done to help her out of this phobia. 

The evening before we scheduled our cage dive, we went to pick up a rental car. While there isn't much daily need for a car, it really helps to have one when driving back and forth across the island. The North Shore is the north western side of the island, well know for it's surfing and food trucks. We arrived in Haleiwa at 10:30am for our 11am tour and proptly got lost. Bernadette called the company for directions. Sadly, due to 50 foot waves caused by a storm north of the island, the tour had to be canceled. I dealt with it well on the outside, but on the inside my heart was crushed. I had gotten myself excited like a kid on Christmas Eve, only to awake to a house robbed by the grinch. 

Bernadette and I decided to look around the North Shore for a bit since we were already there. It was a windy, but pleasant day. The surf didn't look anywhere near 50 feet to me. Nevertheless, there were warning signs everywhere. Watch out for currents, high waves, etc, etc. There were at least five signs. Each sign ended with the words "die" or "drown". It reminded me of my mom warning me of dangerous things with an emphasis on the possiblity of death. Despite this, people were still surfing. 

Instead of chancing the waves of death, we continued down the street. Chickens ran loose all around us. We were hungry, so began looking for a place to eat. The first place we came to was an open tent in a parking lot. Over a charcoal flame turned dozens of chickens, sliced in half and flattened. I imagined the owners of the place just grabbing the loose chickens as they walked by. There were certainly enough loose to do so! I decided against that place. The next one we came to was a small store front turned into an outdoor restaurant named Spaghettini. I chose to eat there purely because the name made me think of a little, tiny version of spaghetti. The meal was average sized, but still quite good. 

Down the street a vendor was selling items made out of shells. Bernadette bought me a beautiful lampshade/wind chime of small, spiraled shells, as well as one to give to Anna. For buying an item, I was also given a free magnet of my choosing. I chose a wooden turtle with "Hawaii" and a flower painted on it's back. Shop owners often give out free things. It's such an odd feeling to me, I have to remind myself that it's not stealing if they give it to you. 

Anna's seashell chime

My seashell chime

My free gift

Before leaving the North Shore, we decided to share a popular shaved ice. There were dozens of favors to choose from. Bernadette was being indecisive, so she let me pick all three flavors. Her only request was that we got it with beans, which she had heard was good. It was on the list of additives so I didn't object, despite the unappetizing thought of it. I chose the flavors mango, piña colada, and strawberry cream. The process was quite interesting as we watched them literally shave down ice, only to pack it back up into tight spheres. I've seen snow cones before, but not the process of making the ice in this way. The piña colada flavor did not make it onto the cone, but it wasn't worth waiting through the long line again to get it. The mango and strawberry cream flavors were surprisingly bold and rich. I let Bernadette try the part with the beans. Her expression of amused disgust affirmed by original opinion on the combination. 

We decided to get back in the car and stop at the Dole Plantation on the way to Hanauma Bay, a popular snorkeling spot. The Dole Plantation is made for tourists. The main building is a gift shop filled with sales people politely pressuring you to buy an array of items you never knew you needed. We resisted and somehow made it back outdoors with our wallets intact. On our way to the plantation, Bernadette and I had discussed how we assumed pineapple grew. Neither of us had paid much attention to it in the past. My assumption was that pineapples grew like carrots, underground. Bernadette thought that the pineapple was the base of the plant growing out from the ground. We were both wrong. Instead of struggling through a detailed description, I decided to use my artistic talent and draw a picture.

While we weren't willing to spend the time and money on an educational tour, we learned what we could from signs posted around the plantation. Pineapples can be traced back to Paraguay since the 15th century. They soon after began popping up around the world as a rare delicacy. The volcanic soil in Hawaii is red with oxidized iron, making it great for pineapple growing. Captain John Kidwell was the first to actively grow pineapples within Hawaii in the 1880s. Jim Dole, a Boston native, came to the island of O'ahu in 1899 and began fine tuning pineapple production to what it is today. There are over 28,000 pineapples per acre, though I'm not sure how many acres there are. Each one is planted and harvested by hand. 

As we walked out of the main garden area, we passed the Dole maze. While it looked fun and quite challenging, but we didn't have enough time to go through and still make it to the bay. We passed by the gift shop quickly and continued our journey.

The view down to the bay was beautiful. One side was shadowed by steep, grassy hills, while the other side went down to a sandy and bright beach. The gate to the bay was open and welcoming, but there was a closed sign next to it. I argued that there must have just been a sign mix up. The next plain closed sign had the word "jellyfish" taped across the bottom. A sign after that was an actual warning sign, showing a stick figure with legs entangled in tentacles. The parking lot entrance booth had information signs about the dangers of jellyfish. The lady inside the booth appoligized and said that the beach was completely closed off. Thirty people had been stung by box jellyfish that morning and it was just too much to control the beach safely. The two things I wanted to do the most were both canceled in the same day. We decided it was probably best that we were being spared from 50 foot waves in shark infested waters and box jellyfish stings. It was still sad.

There are two box jellyfish in this jar. This is how translucent they are in the water.

While we were there, we went ahead and looked around at the views and animals. Birds, mongooses, chickens, and one feral cat surrounded us along the pathways. The cat was very friendly so I picked her up for a quick pet and let her back down when she wanted. This made the employees there very nervous. Lesson learned: it is not okay to hold cats at the bay. Looking out toward the ocean, we saw a small puff of water letting us know the presence of a whale, though it never came out of the water more than that. 

Hanauma Bay

The next day we tried to go back to Hanauma Bay, with confirmation that the jellyfish were no longer there. It started raining. I didn't think it would matter since we were going to be in water anyway, so we headed out. After walking down a long hill in rain to the beach, we discovered that they had just closed snorkel rental. So there we were, standing in the rain, snorekel-less, and cold. We turned around and went home.

To make up for our failed weekend activities, we began plotting for the next weekend. We decided to fly over to Hawaii island to see volcanoes. I had everything researched for the trip, but the night we were to buy tickets Bernadette came home with bad news. There was no viewable lava. Bernadette decided that the trip wasn't worth making without lava.

At that point, all of our big plans had been canceled. I swear I did not walk under a ladder or break a mirror. We decided just to say home for a few days instead of pushing our bad luck any more. While reading the last couple chapters of Divergent on the balcony one afternoon, a ladybug flew by me. I'm not terribly superstitious, however, it gave me a good feeling about making more plans. I called the Shark Encounters company and was about to line up a dive the very next morning! We rented another car and set out for a repeat adventure exactly a week after the first attempt. 

I don't like mornings, especially when it is still dark as your eyes open. This morning was worth it! We easily found the correct spot on this second try. There were two tours scheduled to leave at 7:30. One was for whale watching and the other was for cage diving. For some reason, the whale tour was packed, but there were only five of us for the cage dive. We could all easily fit in the same cage with plenty of room. This was the first time I have ever been on a boat going into the sea. I've been on one slow glass bottom boat in Puerto Rico and a couple small lake boats as a child, but nothing like this. I completely expected to hate it. In fact, I loved it! The speed of the boat was exciting and the sway of the boat was relaxing, like a rocking chair which rocks in unexpected, but nevertheless calming, directions. When I stood, I bent my legs with the sways to remain upright. This gave the feeling that I was controlling the boats movement in some way. I'm sure I found much more amusement in this than most people would. 

The cage was a permanent fixture planted in the middle of a fishing area a few miles from shore. The tour before us was just leaving as we approached. Each of the five of us were fitted with a mask and snorkel, and were politely reminded that they were not responsible should we chose to pet the sharks. The boat was tied snuggly to the side of the cage for easy entry. The small crew helped all of us into the cage, threw some fishing scraps into the water, and stayed close enough to monitor us, but far enough not to disturb the sharks. I expected the water to be ice cold, but it was more like sinking into a warm bath. Above the water, it was a beautiful day! The waves were smoothly rounded, with no sign of anything below. It may seem naive, but I did always imagine to I would see a fin sticking out of the water with a shark nearby. I think the scariest part of the whole experience is realizing that there are no signs of sharks at all from above the water. Underneath, they frenzied! 

I had never worn a snorkel before. It seems pretty simple. You just breathe through your mouth. I now know that would be like putting someone in a car and expecting them to drive. As soon as I attempted my first underwater breath, my body instantly began hyperventilating. I lifted my head out of the water and was perfectly fine. Every time it went underwater, my body violently fought against the snorkel. I would have never guessed I would react that way. Later Bernadette said she experienced that same thing. After a few minutes, I figured out that if I stayed underwater long enough, the hyperventilating would morph into a more normal breathing pattern. Keep in mind that this was all before I saw the sharks. In addition to hyperventilating, I kept laughing! Snorkels look funny and feel funny. My stress response is laughter. While I felt quite safe from the sharks, it does give you quite the kick of adrenaline to realize that you are miles in sea, in a cage, surrounded by sharks bigger than yourself. Every time I so much as smiled, salt water would come rushing into my mouth.

Me wearing a snorkel and mask

Bernadette wearing a snorkel and mask

The next challenge was sinking. My body was floating like a buoy, with legs and arms flailing out in all directions. Not only did I worry about the embarrassment of possibly kicking a fellow cage member with a stray leg, I also was mindful that a limb out of the cage was fair game for sharks. My first method was diving down a bit and tucking my feet under a bar, but in front of the plexiglass window. The cage was mostly just bars in water, but there were a few pieces of plexiglass to give us a larger viewing space. Bernadette was a little more risky with her toes, but I was too fond of mine to hook them on a lower bar without plexiglass. My way seemed less comfortable, keeping me in a scrunched up position, but at least I would be guaranteed all my digits. About halfway through the experience, I learned that if I kept my legs crossed and one arm firmly pushing on the rail, I had enough weight to sink in a somewhat normal looking position. 

Bernadette's method

My method

Once I got a chance to properly look around me, I realized something I had already known in the back of my head; I was completely surrounded by real, wild sharks! Most were slightly larger than me. I would estimate that the smallest was 4 feet, while the largest was 6.5 feet. It may not sound like much, but when you are inches away from a predator that is equal to your size, looking into their eyes, and completely out of your element, it is big! There was no way to count the number of sharks. They were all swimming around us in circles, occasionally disappearing into the deep blue depths. I only know there were definately more than five because that was the largest number I got in one photograph. I often resurfaced to confirm that there were truly no sign of them from above. 

My five shark picture

The moment when you make absolutely sure every part of you is inside that cage

Why are you looking at me like that, Mr. Shark?

This one has a couple hitchhikers on those gills

No filters. It really did look like this.

Bernadette with a shark

Me with a shark. This was before I mastered sinking. My bathing suit was secure the whole time. I'm just in a super awkward position. Shark selfies are hard... 

I took a total of 224 pictures underwater, but only a handful turned out. The rest are evenly split between side rippingly bad pictures of Bernadette and me, and pictures of shark tails. Sharks are remarkably fast swimmers.  After a little over 40 minutes of shark watching, the boat came back to bring us all ashore. We got window clings stating that we swam with sharks and got to take our pictures next to the boat sign.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing on the beach of Turtle Bay Resort. Bernadette seemed to really need the recovery time, so I read and enjoyed the afternoon in the sun while she hid from it in a snooze.

The next day we gave Hanauma Bay a third try. We rented quality snorkel equipment from Snorkel Bobs, as we weren't going to chance their rentals being closed again. This time the weather was beautiful, with no jellyfish in sight. After watching a short video telling obvious things like "don't touch the coral" we headed down to the beach. With our rental came flippers. I tried to wear them... I watched other people put their flippers on in the water. It looked so easy and graceful. Let me tell you, balancing on ever moving sand, being hit with waves, while putting on awkwardly shaped flippers is not an easy task. I plummeted into the water several times and gave up after succeeding to humiliate myself in getting on a single flipper. Instead I wore some simple water shoes. The bottom of the bay was very rocky. If you had to step down, you needed to wear shoes. Thankfully my hyperventilating reflex had disappeared. Unfortunately, my desire to laugh had increased greatly. We floundered around the water, very frequently having to stop due to one problem or another. I shamefully crashed into coral more than a couple times. I'm sure all of the lifeguards pegged us as the most likely to drown that day. We only saw a few fish, but decided we would return again once we had practiced swimming and snorkeling a bit more. Maybe with lifejackets on as well.

-Bonus Pictures-

Bernadette found Spam flavored macadamia nuts. Very thankfully, she decided not to buy them.

 All of the Japanese desserts have this weird gell layer on top. It's mostly flavorless, but greatly modifies the texture.

Chinese New Year celebration in the mall. We could hear the drums from all the way inside Bernadette's apartment. Shopping while surrounded by Chinese lions and dragons was one of the most frustrating experiences of my life. I love seeing them, but getting around them was impossible.