Taking Off (Diving Down) and Landing

13.04.2015, Airplane (Gold Coast to Singapore)

Two hours ago, we took off, watching the Gold Coast shrink until only clouds were left beneath us. Mo has happily dozed off next to me, while my attempts to catch up on some sleep have failed. Nerves, I’m guessing. We’re on a flight by Scoot, a Singaporean cheapo airline I had never heard before. The plane itself is not too shabby, but after leaving over an hour too late, I’m now fretting a bit over catching our onwards flight to Manila. Changi airport is huge and we still have to make sure our luggage gets picked up and checked through onto Tiger Airways. It’s going to be a close one. I hate close calls in traveling.

The Most Overwhelming Day In Australia

On Friday we both woke up before our alarm rang. Which is quite impressive, since it was set for 6:30am. Anticipation had us buzzing, as we packed up our last minutes, brought our linen and aprons to the big housekeeping laundry up the hill (a nice little departing ritual), dropped off our room keys and name tags, went to have a last coffee and say goodbye to our closest colleagues. It was sunny and windy and promised to be a glorious day at the beach that we were leaving behind. Again, we were finishing a job, which felt great, but leaving people we have grown to like, which tainted it bittersweet.

Chloe & Trav - We will miss you! See you around somewhere somehow ;)

I said goodbye to the pelicans and swarms of little fish under the jetty, as we boarded the ferry and cruised on over to Brisbane.

Back in our car, back in the city, back to having the day to ourselves and doing as we please. Or more like, doing what our to do list dictated, before doing as we please. Our hostel, the Yellow Submarine Backpackers, was located right outside the CBD and a comfortable 15min walk to the Queen Street Mall. The building was old and creaky, not very well maintained and had an overall dingy feel to it. But the room had a double bed and a fan and that was all we were after anyways. After only working and taking short road trips, being in a hostel for the first time after 7 months in Australia was strange. Familiar, but in the way an old classroom or hangout feels when revisiting it – you are comfortable and remember the good times you used to have here, you can empathize with the people around you and know you’ve experienced it all similarly, but at the same time it is not the same and that’s okay, because you are not expecting, looking for or even wanting that same old feeling.

Into the city we wandered… Highrises, no view of the water, crowds of people, 7Elevens at every corner (with 1$ coffee!), voices, colors and smells. Every once in a while I felt like just backing against a wall and meditating to try and put this assault on my senses back into perspective. On the other hand, I jumped straight in, ready to shop and eat and be merry. And so we did… After crossing off quite a few errands that morning, we met up with Mo’s cousin and her friends and had lunch in a food court. Never in my life have I appreciated and savored a simple bowl of beef udon soup so much. Mo ate half his baguette sandwich with his eyes closed. Both of us happily munching and moaning in delight, as our tastebuds tingled and summersaulted their way through lunch.

After more walking and enjoying the “autumn” day in Brisbane, we went back to the hostel, where I was surprised with tickets to the opening night of Totem – Cirque du Soleil! I must have shrieked so loud that the passengers of the train that drove by right outside our window could have heard it. I had never been to a performance by the famous acrobats and it has always been on my bucket list. Best birthday/Christmas/Easter-gift from the best boyfriend E-V-E-R!

To fulfill a dream we had conjured up and talked about on the last days on the island, we headed to the supermarket and were once again overwhelmed by the selection. The prices we once complained about suddenly seamed cheap. And the possibilities of snacks, drinks and the preparation of our own meals were endless. Our dream included pasta, a red onion, a zucchini, tomato sauce and parmesan. Back at the hostel, we cooked the pasta al dente, threw together the sauce and once again, we enjoyed our meal tremendously, the occasional mmmhhh or slurp the only sounds occasionally breaking our silence.

We left on time, 40 minutes till show time, but little did we know that the venue could only be reached by one road and the traffic light to turn onto it was broken and just never turned green. The only reason our traffic jam moved along was thanks to many many illegal right turns made by frustrated patrons of the arts – us included. A sign pointing to the Cirque du Soleil parking was already surrounded by cars. 20 minutes till show time. We drove onwards, hastily parked in the first slot we found and started walking in the direction most people were walking in. 15 minutes till show time. People around us start jogging, women take off their high heels and run barefoot. We pick up the pace. This was Cirque du Soleil and I didn’t want to miss a single minute of it. Thinking back on it now, it was probably one of my most even paced and motivated runs in a long time, concentrating on breath and stride, not even noticing the blisters popping up on the soles of my feet. 10 minutes till show time. We could see the tent in the distance, but the roads that lead us there made a big loop. A fenced in field stood between us and our destination. Onwards we jogged. 5 minutes till show time. What started off as a cool night and a “I’m happy to be wearing jeans again”, turned into a sweaty mess. One more corner and another and somewhere along the way the realization that we could have driven all the way to the parking lot smack in front of the tent, no problem or traffic at all. That was pushed aside quickly and laughed about afterwards. Show time. We reached the gates, filed in line between ladies in evening gowns, trying to catch our breath and wipe the sweat off our brown. We made it! I’m guessing they heard about the traffic light or realized their signage to the parking lot was horrible, but the show ended up starting 15mins late and by then we were settled into our seats.

The show was everything I had expected and then some! It was a lively, colorful and brilliant display of pure talent. From the costumes and make-up, to the live music, to the comedic interludes and the amazing acrobatic acts, I loved every minute of it. It was loaded with primal energy and mesmerizing beauty. It brought a tear to my eye, left my mouth gaping wide open and literally took my breath away. During the break we ate the most delicious cake pops I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying and on the long walk back to the car (20mins of jogging is quite the distance) we talked about art and talent and the importance of being exposed to such rewarding experiences.

That night, despite the train screeching by our window every few minutes, I had one of the most restful sleeps since I’ve been on the road. It had been a long, tiring, beautifully overwhelming day.

Three, Two, One…Gone.

The next day we slept in, walked into the city and aimlessly strolled and browsed. We ended up spending quite some time in the Kathmandu store, an outdoor outfitter that had a great sale going on. I probably could have spent all my hard earned cash in there, but restrained myself to falling in love with only one jacket – which, of course, they didn’t have in my size. But another outself had it, so we walked from the CBD to Fortitude Valley, home of hipster cafés and stores, Chinatown and many many travel shops. Much to my dismay, the two jackets the computer system had shown, were no longer there and our little long journey had been for nothing. Even the 2$ ice bream brownie sundaes advertised by cute little café that I wanted to pick up on the way home were sold out by the time we went back. Not my day. Luckily, I could reserve the jacket in a shopping we would swing by the next morning. Totally worth it.

We spent the evening with Mo’s cousin, her friends and yet another familiar face from Berlin. We walked to a burger place close by a very charming market and had dinner, walked around the park by the river for a while and ended the evening in a bar.

Yesterday morning, we drove to the Gold Coast, our last ride in our car before signing the papers and handing over the keys to the girls. 

Bye bye, piece of junk.

It was hot and sunny and after a late brunch in Pancakes in Paradise, we hung out at the beach till it got too cold. A little background story to our choice of lunch venue. Pancakes in Paradise was actually the first place that Mo and I ever had a “date” in, meaning had a meal just the two of us. Four years ago, we had brunch in a branch in Surfers Paradise and ended up leaving without paying, because the service was so bad (forgetting orders, not bringing the bill half an hour after asking…). This time around, the food was just as mediocre, came just as late for some of us…but this time you had to order and pay at the counter first ;)

The Coolangatta Sands hostel was quite nice. Great kitchen and hang out areas, clean rooms and close to everything. After a little food shopping spree (realizing that we were on a very long flight without included meals), we took on the difficult task of packing. Both our bags were exploding by the time we closed the last zipper and fell into bed.

And once again, our alarm rang early this morning. 6am wake-up call. Airport by 7. And here we are, with a row of three seats to ourselves on an empty yet very delayed flight to Singapore. By tonight, we will be in Manila and by tomorrow morning we will be in Cebu and then Malapascua. And by day after tomorrow we will be underwater, hopefully chillin’ with some thresher sharks and manta rays. But first… we need to catch that flight.

21.04.2015, Berlin (my old couch)

So we ended up catching that flight. Brisk-walking through Changi Airport to the transfer desk. We ended up having a few minutes to eat some real food, which we desperately needed, after Scoot stewardesses made us throw away our instant noodle cups – the only real food we had brought along – because they preferred us to buy theirs for 5$ a pop. Uh, no.

The second flight on Tiger airways was uneventful – cramped, but short and uneventful. Getting off at NAIA Terminal 1, I was waiting for that NAIA-smell and wall of humidity to punch me in the face, those green linoleum floors and basement-feeling… but no, we were greeted by a blasting aircon, white light and carpeted floors. I had no idea they were renovating and it kind of threw me off. Once outside though, it felt like we had only just left.

Manila traffic. A quick but very enjoyable meal. Hasty unpacking and repacking. And a wonderful 250peso massage… during which I felt my masseuse desperately trying to knead out the dozens of little knots in my shoulders and back. Ahhh the blissful pain!

Two hours of deep sleep later, our alarm clock rang. This time at the ungodly hour of 3:30am. The flight to Cebu, the van ride to the port and the boat ride across to Malapascua Island is a blur of falling asleep, waking up, moving, falling asleep again and being elated to be, once again, traveling for pure pleasure. Back to turquoise blue waters, Bangka-outriggers cutting though the waves and the gleam of a white beach up ahead. And tropical heat!

Back on a bangka.

Malapascua is one of the islands that was completely flattened by typhoon Yolanda in November 2013 and the scars of this natural disaster were still visible. Very little and quite bare palm trees, a steep beach covered in broken coral and construction still ongoing all over the island. Also, since the last time I had visited (a good 13 years or so ago), the number of resorts and boats – mostly for diving – has grown remarkably.

We checked into our resort and headed to the dive shop to unpack our gear. And there, Mo and I spontaneously decided to further our diving education and get certified to dive on Nitrox (Air enriched with a higher percentage of oxygen).

The heat on the island was intense – even for a sun-loving gal like me. You could feel it beating down, scorching your skin by the minute.

After an incredible meal at Angelina’s – an Italian restaurant that beats pretty much all Italians I’ve been to (even some in Italy!) – we fell into bed and passed out instantly…

Island sunset.

…only to have our alarm ring, once again, at a time not meant for alarms to ring. To see the Thresher Sharks, dive boats head out as early as 4am. We decided to wait out the crowds of up to 10 dive groups and left at 5:30am. In the water by 6am. So basically, out of bed, into the wetsuit and into the proverbial and literal cold water. 

Sunrise, sunrise...

...looks like morning in your eyes.

Down at 30m, we sat and waited for these illusive creatures to pass by for a cleaning on the shoal. And lucky enough – one, about 3m long (including it’s very long tail fin) passed by shortly after. Despite murky water and only a short passing-by, I was completely in awe of this beautiful animal. Shiny silver, big black eyes (that do kind of remind of an animated puppy) and that elegant long tail fin… Just amazing! On our second dive we weren’t quite as lucky, but oh well, that’s diving for you – hit and miss.

Sitting and Waiting.

Still fighting a bit of a cold, I skipped the third dive of the day and enjoyed rocking back and forth on the boat till everyone else came back up.

The post-dive afternoon was spent lounging in the pool, warming up after the freezing temperatures down below. And dinner was enjoyed at our Italian of choice. And that routine was repeated for the next two days… Dive – eat – nap – dive – eat – sleep. Rinse and repeat. Only we skipped the early morning Thresher Shark dive the next day and kicked ourselves after seeing the footage of the two beauties that the others saw. Our Gato Island dive highlight was the 30m cave tunnel we swam through, in which, I must admit, my heart was ready to burst out of my chest. That dark confined space underwater definitely left my nerves tingling. And finally, our last two dives around Chocolate Island had us hunting for colorful little creatures till sunset. It was here that I had my first encounter with a Blue Ring Octopus – the cutest little thing! Crawling along the rock covered in soft coral, it changed color and shape, looking for a hideout, it’s blue rings flashing when one came too close. Crazy to imagine that such a cool looking critter is so very toxic.

Dive. Eat. Sleep. Rinse and Repeat.

Harlequins.

Blue Ring.

Experiences, logged dives and a sunburn richer, we left the island and journeyed back to Manila. By then, my sniffles had turned into a full blown sinus infection and I landed with a fever and completely deaf from being unable to equalize after the flight. Fun.

It dampened my ability to do all the running around on the one day in Manila, but I managed half a morning in the malls and at cravings satisfaction at Ukkokei Ramen House. And then it was back to unpacking and repacking, this time for spring in Germany. My suitcase still has dirt from Australia on its wheels, sand from Malapascua in its bowels and now bears sweaters and jeans and socks (all of which I haven’t touched in quite a while).

Up In The Air (Again) and Touching Down

Shortly before leaving Manila yet again, I had a blast from the past stop by and time just ticked on as we reminisced and caught up. Next thing I know, I am speed-hugging everyone bye and pushing my mom out the door – estimated time of departure overshot. Though we made it to the airport on time, Philippine Airlines decided to test my nerves again, by leaving almost an hour too late. Having booked flights with very close cutting transfer times, delays were not really an option. But even that crisis was aborted and soon enough we were sitting on our 12h flight from Hong Kong to Zurich. Usually, I fly Arabic airlines when traveling between Asia and Europe, so it was funny to be on an older plane again – everything in stylish beige and ochre, grainy tv screens (not touchscreen haha!) and stewardesses that were either 50+ with hairstyles from the 80s or 30+ and as wide as the aisles. But the food was good and the legroom ample. Only the seats were sadly not comfortable enough to sleep in. Instead I watched movies. All. Night. Long.

We flew into Zurich as the sun rose, making the lakes below look like pieces of molten glass and illuminating the snow covered alps all along the horizon. Quite the sight. I am not in Australia or the Philippines no more, Toto.

Another thing I noticed after disembarking and strolling to our next gate – serious faces, quick paced people in suits, people standing on once side of the escalator and walking on the other – I’m back! And not quite sure how to feel about it yet…

Only in Berlin, sunny and familiar, did I start warming up to the fact that I was going to be here for the next 3 weeks. Mind you, I am still very confused and haven’t really wrapped my head around this vacation at home (Berlin) after just being home (Manila) while I’m actually supposed to be somewhere travelling Asia and feeling like I never really left home (both B & M).

So here I am, sitting on my old couch in my old room in which not too much as changed, wrapped in a snuggie. The kitchen is full of goodies that I bought with my mom and dad at the market along the Maybachufer. Tonight we are watching Champions league. Home sweet home.

Time to take a nap and hopefully wake up less confused, more grounded and with the energy to let the excitement about these up coming weeks really blossom! (Speaking of blossoming… The trees along the canal are blooming, spring is in the air! :) )

Time Flies

…yes, it does. It’s been almost two months since I’ve last updated this thing I call blog. “A shame”, most professional bloggers would say. But since I am neither a professional nor do I actually call myself a blogger, I think I will let this “long” break speak for itself.

Or might this picture of a mommy dolphin nursing a baby dolphin make up for it...?

The reason for returning to these pages is that the countdown of our final week in this country has begun and that alone is inspiring.

Our era on Moreton Island and as members of the Food and Beverage Team of the Tangalooma Island Resort is ending in just a few short days. And our time here has been well spent. Not writing about it just has do to with the fact, that I believe writing (and reading, for that matter) about dirty plates, espresso shots, Chinese tourists, kegs of beer, this function and that event week after week just isn’t that interesting. Our day to day has looked and felt like the day to day of anyone working a monotonous job. Shift times change, sometimes we were busy, sometimes not, at times a big conference would keep us on our toes, at times it was just the coffee shop or bar that filled our week. And just like any job, we complain about sore feet, tiredness, being annoyed with guests, coworkers etc. or tell each other about funny mishaps or uplifting moments that graced our shift. We have gotten bored and we have looked forward to work. We have appreciated every minute spent working and every dollar we have been able to make and save. It’s just been life, only on a different continent. But to be quite honest… we are jumping for joy on the inside at the prospect of getting on a one-way ferry to the mainland on Friday.

Having a beach as a front lawn is quite amazing and having a view of turquoise waters while working is grand, but after a while, this island has slowly revealed its limitations. Living and working in the same few hundred square meters, day in day out, has taken its toll on us. Not being able to walk down a different street, see different faces and (especially) eat different food has left us craving the feeling of freedom. And sure, we could have gone off island every week on our days off, but knowing that that would result in a significant lowering of our tediously saved funds, we decided against it most of the time.

In our two and a half months here, we left the island twice. The first time after a bit over two weeks. We drove to the Gold Coast, visited Emily and parked ourselves on her couch for a night. Movies, junk food and some peace and quiet, before a major shopping spree the next day and the evening ferry back to work. Despite the driving and time constraint, it left us rejuvenated in a strange and backwards way.

The next time was three weeks after that. We had bought tickets to the Future music festival in Brisbane and rented a little flat, together with Emily, Derya (having come to pick up Emily and bring her back to Berlin) and Shannon, Emily’s flat mate. 

Reunited and loving it!

The weather was perfect, the spirits were high. The lineup was okay – quite few chart-toppers and radio-hit acts – not necessarily what I would usually pay that much money to go see live, but for a day (and half a night) of dancing with good friends, it was ay-okay! 

Addicted to bubbles.

It was colorful and loud and we made the absolute best of it! Darude welcomed us with Sandstorm, Sigma warmed us up, Martin Garrix got us jumping, Two Chainz left stage 15mins early because he got annoyed by the crowd concentrating more on the girls flashing their boobs on the big screen than his music, Avicii’s visuals were better than the music itself, Drake bounced his ego back and forth on the very large stage… but The Prodigy… They blew us away! These legends, these crazy old farts, these guys that still look and act as creepy and insane as they did 25 years ago… They made it all worth it! The last act of the evening in a foggy, sweaty tent, lights flashing, people mesmerized, energized and feeling it. That’s what live music is all about. Not taking selfies while Avicii fist-pumps behind his table of buttons and knobs, not posting how much fun you are having on Facebook during your favorite song, not trying to catch the eye of every half naked drunk person in the crowd around you… Just the people going crazy on stage and you going crazy for them :)

It was all over at 10pm. Only in Australia. Kind of pathetic. But anyways, after a long way home that included a disoriented walk through suburbia and a train ride, and a few cab rides that took the others to an after-party and us to bed, one of the must fun filled days in Australia came to an end.

The next day, we were back on that ferry.

The Prodigy.

Work work work. Days off at the beach. Sandcastles (and -turtles). A week of being sick (for some odd reason the week after the festival). Many many loads of laundry. Some sun, some rain. A few new burns and bruises. A few pizzas as a treat. My taste for good coffee returning. Some nightly encounters with opossums… 

Celebrating our 2,5-aversary.

Save the turtles.

And then the question: What next?

I have decided to take a little vacation from travelling (as indulgent as that may sound) and go to Germany for three weeks to be there for my sister’s wedding. All other plans just started growing around this rock and blossoming with time. And here they are, in all their glory…

We fly out of here in a week, land in Manila at night, leave for a few days of diving in Malapascua (you have no idea how EXCITED we are to finally get back under water), then back to Manila. I have one day in the city and then leave for Berlin with my mom. Three weeks split between Berlin and Munich, family and friends, food and feelings and probably being the only person in the country feeling cold. Meanwhile, Mo will enjoy the Philippine summer with Philipp, party in Boracay on the Labour day weekend and explore Camarines Sur and other regions that I haven’t even been to yet. When I get back, Mo leaves for Vietnam to meet his mom and start travelling. And then I will either join them for the final week or meet Mo in our probable next stop Cambodia. And from there… we dive into the final leg of this journey, exploring Asia. We dream of completing the Golden Triangle and venturing into Laos and Myanmar as well and spending some time in Nepal and India. Aside from accepting that it will be either hot and humid or wet (as it will be rainy season in most countries), we will also have to be prepared to make adjustments to time and extent of our travels. But nonetheless, after 7 months in Australia, of which we have spent 6 working, we can’t wait to spread our wings, immerse ourselves in the unknown and live.

Here’s a little anecdote that I wrote down somewhere in between:

15.03.2015

One side of the bed: full of stuff. Other side of the bed: neat and comfy. Someone starts cleaning his side of the bed, starts humming a tune, picks up and puts on his cap. It’s 10:29pm. I ask: “Why are you putting on your cap? Going anywhere?” and the answer I get is as nonchalant as it should have been obvious to me: “So it’s not on the bed anymore.”

On that note… I sign off and wish you all a belated Happy Easter!

PS: In the ONE month between getting on a plane in Australia to get back to Manila and getting on a plane in Germany to get back to Manila, I will have boarded TEN different airplanes! Bring it on!