Corey visits Calgaria

Day 6 to Day 8 (19 June to 21 June 2007): Calgary, Canada

Calgary I found is a town a lot like Texas. Or more appropriately, a town a lot like what I imagine Texas would be like, as I’ve never been to Texas. It’s a big oil town. Most employees are employed by the oil companies, and most oil companies give their employees Friday off work. There’s also a bit of a cowboy, wild west feel to Calgary. Here, it’s not only acceptable to wear cowboy hats, it’s encouraged. There’s clubs with mechanical bulls, a club called Cowboys which, like Prince Harry, I decided to pay a visit, wide open plains, and of course, Stampede. Stampede is the biggest calendar event of the year in Calgary, and the biggest Rodeo-festival in the world. Unfortunately I was in Calgary a fortnight too early, and so missed out.

In Calgary itself, I didn’t do too much. I took the time to do some study which I had been sorely neglecting, and to catch up on some sleep. I also paid a visit to a gym. I may have mentioned this previously, but the people of Canada on average are of a higher attractiveness standard than most other countries I have been to. I think it might be in part because of the hugeness of their gyms. The gym I visited was out in the suburbs, and was massive, but apparently not as big as some of the other gyms in Calgary. It had swimming pool, an ice skating rink, an indoor running track and two floors of weights and cardio machines. I only spent a short time there, because Yvonne said she was going to pick me up by 3pm, and I didn’t want to upset her again. Last time I was late meeting her somewhere, I was physically beaten. I was a little scared she might do it again. And I had tried to fight back…

Corey visits the wild outlands of Alberta (and some of British Columbia)

Tuesday greeted us with clear blue skies and perfect t-shirt weather. We decided to drive out country out towards Banff, a little ski resort town. I took control of the driving, and with only a few minor incidents while I got use to everyone driving on the wrong side of the road, we arrived relatively unharmed in Banff. After a leisurely beer and an Elk Burger (okay but not great), we set off to Radium, another small town about an hour away in search of more wild animals to eat. On the highway we were lucky enough to see a black bear, wild goats and a flock of deer, but was unlucky not to have even clipped one with the car.

Radium is more famous for its hot springs than its wild animal burgers, and I had come prepared with boardies and a towel. Yvonne was not so well prepared, and after borrowed a ridiculous blue body condom, we went for a dive with the fat people. There was not one attractive thin person (apart from ourselves of course) swimming in the springs. Quickly losing interest looking at ugly retired Camper Van folk and German tourists, we decided to head back to Banff for a delicious steak, and then head back home the Calgary.

People from New Zealand aren’t from Down Under

Prince Harry, in his role as a British Army Officer, is stationed in Calgary. The week before I arrived, Harry and a few of his army buddies decided to visit a famous Calgarian nightclub by the name of Cowboys. You can check out the full story here: http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20070614/cowboys_harry_070614/20070614?hub=Entertainment.

Deciding that what’s good enough for British royalty is good enough for me, I let Yvonne force me out to get drunk on a Wednesday night. Wednesday night at Cowboys is ladies night, and so after paying the $20 cover to get in and buying a surprising not too expensive drink for Yvonne (and for myself), Yvonne leaves to check out the male strippers in the ladies only room. Being a little lonely, I make friends with a couple of ridiculous shots, but they quickly disappear. Yvonne finally returns once the ‘Thunder from Down Under’ boys have finished their show, and we check out upstairs. Getting to the top, I’m a little surprised to be greeted by a huge pair of naked breasts bouncing on a catwalk in the middle of the room. Connected to the naked breasts was a naked woman passing out t-shirts and hats. Clubs here are certainly different to those back home. She’s apparently at the end of her show, and we head back down stairs. I head to the toilet, and am accosted by drunken girls on my way out who try violently to make out with me. I consider it, but then see Yvonne staring furiously at me, and quickly brush past. I’m never this lucky when I’m out with the boys.

A girl walks past with Tequila bottles in holsters at her waist, and offers me a shot for the bargain price of $8. Always looking for a good deal, I fork over the cash, and take a shot. Eight dollars gets you more than the shot I realise, as my face is pushed between her breasts. She giggles around a little, and then moves on, looking to spread more of her love around.

We head up to a bar, and ask the bargirl for some photos. I order another ridiculous drink, a Gladiator, which I think from memory is a Jaeger depth charge into orange juice and redbull. Delicious and healthy.


It turns out the Down Under strippers are drinking at the same bar, and I introduce myself as a fellow Aussie. One of them tells me he’s Kiwi, and I begin to get furious. New Zealanders aren't from Down Under! This is another example of the Kiwis stealing all their famous assets from Aussieland.

Yvonne grabs me by the arm, steering me aside. I grab the Kiwis beer as we go and wander out to the dance floor. I think this makes us even.

We leave after final drinks have been called, and we walk out into a quiet pre-sunrise Calgary street. As I’m ordering a hotdog I’m propositioned for a threesome. But I am very hungry…

Orange Mocha Frappuccino

Day 5 (18 June 2007): Vancouver to Calgary, Canada

The flight from Vancouver to Yvonne’s home town of Calgary was uneventful, except for one huge event. In the airport getting a coffee at Starbucks, I spied an advertisement for Orange Mochas. Now, we’ve all seen Zoolander and we remember the scene just prior to the tragic gasoline flight accident where his brothers (but we don’t mean actual brothers) and Derek go out for Orange Mocha Frappuccinos, to help Derek sort through his important issues. Since that day I have dreamed of an Orange Mocha Frappuccino, and so with trembling hands, I asked the girl behind the counter if they made them.

It was delicious.

Vancouver: The land of no Summer

Including the incredible story of when I fell 40 metres and survived

Day 1 to 4 (14 June to 17 June 2007): Vancouver, Canada

Despite all the odds, I have arrived in Canada. I was grilled by the Customs official, who requested to see proof of my onward flights out of Canada. After I said I’m not sure I had any, he started fishing around his rubber glove drawer for an unused set while I hastily found the crumpled web receipt for Calgary to New York I’d printed out as an afterthought. As I handed the bundle to him, I dropped my Canadian Working Visa, which I didn’t want yet activated as it is only valid for one year. Fortunately his eyes were busy looking over my flight details seeking an excuse to not let me in to the country and so it went unnoticed. A few more questions about my intentions in Canada with the friend I was meeting, and I was through. Once again I’d managed to deceive another Customs official.

I’d left the Taiwan adventure boys behind at baggage claim after a few manly hugs, and wandered into the Arrivals lounge. Yvonne, a friend I’d made last year in Greece, was flying in on an earlier flight from Calgary to meet me when I landed. A moment of panic went through me as I looked around the lounge without seeing her. Has she tricked me and was going to leave me to fend for myself in a strange foreign land? Or had I walked right past her and completely forgotten how she looked? I grabbed out the phone and called her number, with no response. It was official, she wasn’t going to meet me. Cursing her, and all her traitorous country folk I saw Anthony wandering over to the bar. He pissed himself when I told him I’d been betrayed, and then got me my first Canadian beer, a pint of Kokanee. It was 9am in Vancouver, we were surprisingly not the only ones in the bar, but we were on Taiwan time, which was 1am the next day. As I sipped a flattish, but pleasant tasting beer, I saw a girl checking her phone matching the vague description I had in my mind of my friend. I gave Yvonne a call on the mobile, and the girl answered. I waved and she came over. My lift had arrived. I no longer hated Canada.

I spent the day eating, drinking and walking around Vancouver. It’s a real pretty place. Nice green gardens and well kept houses, with snow capped mountains on the horizon, all with an ocean view. I later found out that the reason it’s all so green is that it never stops raining, except for a brief period when planes fly in from Taiwan. I also spent the day looking like a had a small mental problem. People didn’t understand what I was saying, I had trouble ordering food as they kept asking me questions about what dressing I wanted, how I wanted my potatoes, and other food options (this was all translated for me by Yvonne), and I kept tipping all wrong. I’d tip too much, then not enough, tip when I wasn’t suppose to (apparently you don’t tip at Starbucks) and then getting in trouble for tipping with change. I’ve decided I’ll just play up the dumb aussie routine until I work it all out.

When I fell 40 metres and lived to tell the tale

I’m a fearful man. When there is a large change of death (such as flying - I don’t really believe in it) I get scared. As well as being a fearful man, I believe in facing my fears. Because of all this, I never want to go bungee jumping, but have always wanted to do it and tick it off the list of life. There’s many things on this metaphorical list, but bungee jumping has been right at the top for some time.

Yvonne had scouted out a bungee jump on Vancouver Island, only a half hour walk, hour bus ride and then a two hour ferry ride away. From there, the bungee jump was only another half an hour away. It was going to be an all day trip if we were going to do it. Four hours later I was standing in the rain overlooking a raging river 40 metres below.

Yvonne had wanted to go first. I figured that if the rope was going to break, it was going to break for the first person, so I readily agreed. From when she walked out onto the platform, with the bungee cord around her ankles, it was another 15 minutes until she decided she wouldn’t do it. I’m not sure what happened next, she claims she jumped (more accurately let herself fall off) or whether the operator pushed her, but she was falling, eerily silent towards the water. Her eyes were squeezed tight and she was falling like how I imagine a roll of carpet would fall if it was pushed off a bridge. It was strange to watch. But then the cord snapped tight and she bounced back up. It had worked. I guess I was up next.

I had always thought there would be back-up ropes and all kinds of harnesses with bungee jumping. I was wrong. A towel was loosely wrapped around my ankles, and a strap was equally loosely wrapped around. To that was connected the bungee cord. I had waddled my way out to the edge of the platform and looked over the edge. The idea of free falling, with nothing slowing me down until the cord pulled tight scared the shit out of me. The looseness of the strap around my ankles worried me a little. It had loosened up on the walk out, and I felt like my foot could slide out of it. I was about to question the operator about it when he started the countdown.

Three! Two! One! Bungee! Not wanted to look soft I jumped, falling headfirst so I would get the extra length I was told I needed to hit the water before bouncing up. The first 30 metres were fucked. I was the most scared I’d ever been in my life. The cord began to catch. I didn’t hear a snap, and the fear was gone. I splashed down into the water up to my chest before bouncing back up. This was awesome!

After I’d finished my jump, I realized I should have taken off my shirt. I can’t believe I wasted an opportunity! Worse still, I was to be wet and cold for the four hour trip back. But I didn’t care. It was awesome, and it was a BIG tick off my list.

The weather didn’t improve while I was in Vancouver. I did some sight seeing, drunk a few drinks and a good time was had. But now, it was time to travel inland.

Michael blogs in Korean.

Blogger is in Korean. If you see this blog, you can safely assume that I am now fluent in Korean.

Seoul food; Michael visits Korea.

Well, I won't lie; it's been an adventure. I guess things started at about 3am on Monday morning. In fact, things started about 9 months before that. I won't go into detail (only because I wasn't there), but the upshot of it all is that my niece, Annabelle, was born bright and early, healthy and happy, on Monday morning.

Of course, even without this interruption, my packing schedule was far from organised. I hadn't packed. A few minutes of stuffing all my clothes into a bag later, I was packed. I detoured past the hospital on the way to the airport, met Annabelle, and caught my flight to Sydney.

I had to stay overnight in Sydney. I suppose I had a few options. When I realised that staying with Chris was probably my best free option, I booked a hotel. The Holiday Inn Sydney Airport was my new home...for the next 12 hours. Not being one to pass up a bargain, I chose the hotel package that included a $50 food and drink voucher as well as breakfast. It was tough, but one butter chicken, a side of vegetables and a few Crownies later, I had managed to spend my food voucher.

I woke up at 5am the next morning. I threw as much as I could back into my bag, forgetting only some underwear and an electric razor, and then headed down to the restaurant for 10 minutes of buffet glory. Michael 1, Buffet 0.

One shuttle ride and a very long check-in queue later, I found myself on the plane for Seoul. I was lucky enough to be seated next to a New Zealand bartender named Michael. Rather than introducing himself formally, he jumped right to one of life's big questions: have you ever had a girl, girl guy threesome? I wallowed in failure and excuses for a few minutes, but at least I knew at that point the flight wouldn't be boring. 15 minutes into the flight the hostess came by to ask if we could please quieten down, as we were disturbing some of the (softer) passengers. No problem; we ordered some authentic Korean beer; Budweiser.

10 hours in the plane seemed to fly by. Puns are hilarious. Pretty soon I landed at Incheon International Airport. Of course, at that stage I didn't realise I was still about a 7 hour bus ride into Seoul. Actually, it was only really one hour, but it felt longer. At least it gave me some time to call the Holiday Inn and check-out. Maybe I should have done that about 15 hours earlier?

I called Jenny when I got to Seoul and she came and met me at the bus stop. Jenny has beer and a great apartment; what a good start to the trip! I caught up on the old times (actually, we just talked football) with Jen and then we headed out for some Korean dinner. Delicious. Beer was also served in abnormally (but welcome) large bottles. Jen said that I might have to drink some of her beer; I figured it was the least I could do, since she was letting me stay with her and all. The food really was good, and I ate tastily.

Sightseeing tomorrow, and then I fly to NYC. I still haven't studied.

Corey desecrates the memories of the dead

Day 0 (13/14 June 2007): Taipei, China

Suffering the effects of jet lag and a few beers, I woke up feeling a little furry – but quickly hardened up with some push-ups and an ice-cold shower. It was 0700 Taipei time, about 5 hours after I went to bed. With the boys from last night, we’d decided to get an early breakfast and head into the city for some sightseeing before jumping back on the plane to Vancouver. Zane had just got out of the shower when I tried to barge into his room unannounced. Apparently being a fearful man, Zane had chained his door, and my attempts to steal his stuff were foiled. He was awake anyway so it probably wouldn’t have worked.

We met Paul, the third member of our trio from last night at breakfast. He was chatting to another Aussie travelling alone, Anthony, who was the Einstein-like genius who’d beaten us to the beers last night. He was paying for it though, feeling a little seedy and already struggling with the new day. It didn’t take much convincing for Anthony to join us on our tourist adventure into Taipei, and 10mins later we were all piling into a cab outside of the hotel.

Surprisingly, from when we left the hotel, until we checked in again at the airport, we didn’t get lost at any stage. We had caught a cab, subway, train and bus all with clockwork precision. It was like we had built this outcrop of the legitimate exiled Chinese government.

The first stop of our lightning tour of Taipei was the Longshan Temple. It only took two minutes until we had managed to offend local sensitivities, with Zane and Paul wearing their hats in the temple, and myself foolishly accepting proffered prayer sticks, lighting them, then walking inside a building where they were not meant to go. Fleeing from the old angry women, I found a shrine where I had seen others leave prayer sticks, though only one or two at a time. I quickly shoved the bundle in my hand into the sand at the bottom of the shrine, and retreated to where the other boys were waiting. I figured there was safety in numbers, surely they wouldn’t beat all of us?

The Boys from the flight

Feeling very awkward, but definitely appreciating the experience, we journeyed onwards to Taipei 101 – the world’s tallest building. Admittedly, it didn’t look that tall and I was a little disappointed. I think I expected to see the top of the building poking through the clouds, it didn’t occur to me that the sunny cloudless sky would somehow prevent this. We caught the world’s fastest elevator to the top, quickly check it out, took too many photos and then caught the world’s fastest elevator down. My dreams of somehow picking up and joining the half-mile high club going unfulfilled.

It turns out that Australia doesn’t have an embassy in Taiwan. According to the Australian Government official we met on the bus back to the airport, Australia, just like the United Nations, doesn’t recognise the independent sovereignty of Taiwan. I had always thought that Australia took the same stance as the International Olympic Committee, that the legitimate government of China had been overthrown by Communists, and that one day they would retake the mainland. Apparently this view changed way back in the ‘70’s, well before I was born. I think that primary school history books in suburban Adelaide may been a little outdated.

Waiting at the airport, we decided to sample a few of the local Taiwanese beers, as we’d been drinking only Japanese beers since we arrived. This put me in the mood for a few more drinks, and upon boarding the plane, I decided to become as drunk as possible, as quickly as possible. I’d never been drunk on a plane before, and I thought this was the chance. I wasn’t going to let the old sick woman and her pleasant and helpful older daughter sitting in my row between my window seat and the toilet stop me from my dream.

Two hours later I had passed out in seat having consumed three scotch and cokes (no matter how many times I asked for bourbon, they kept bringing me scotch without correcting me once), five or six beers and a couple of glasses of wine. This isn’t a bad effort for only two hours, with the whim of the flight attendants dictating the regularity of my drinking, but passing out was unusual – I’m sure a result of being forty thousand feet up.

Waking up after a couple hours of a peaceful nap, I realized I had a hangover. I stumbled past the old woman and her daughter and had some quiet alone time to myself in the bathroom.

Deciding wisely to refrain from alcohol for the rest of the trip, the remainder of the flight passed without major incident. I chatted to the daughter beside me about my dreams of passing the New York Bar Exam, and how I was disappointed with my confusion with Thai lady boys only being in Thailand. After what seemed like a fifteen hour flight, the captain came over the intercom, “Passengers and crew please be seated, we’re expecting extreme turbulence on our approach into Vancouver”.

Corey leaves Australia

“This is a sad day, my fellow Australians, for today we have lost a great son”.

- John Howard, Prime Minister of Australia, in his goodbye speech for Corey Hawke, Sydney Airport, Australia, 13 June 2007

Day 0 (13 June 2007): Sydney Airport, Australia

I’d checked in with China Airlines by about 0930. One bag of what had been my last 26 years in Australia, reduced down to only 18kgs, including eight text books for the New York Bar Exam. This was it. I’d left behind a few boxes of odds and ends at home, but if I were never to see them again, I wouldn’t be devastated.

In some respects it’s a little sad. I’d said goodbye to my friends, to all those sentimental pieces of memorabilia I’d held on to all these years, as well as thousands of dollars of what now look like foolish clothing decisions. Twenty six years, and all I have to show for it is a few thousand dollars of drinking money, one rucksack, and a ticket to the United States of America.

Ironically, I didn’t even actually have that. Half an hour after checking in I arrived at my gate, with not a ticket to the United States, but a ticket to the always sunny city of Vancouver, Canada.

Arriving at the gate, I quickly scanned the empty seats for a place next to any single looking attractive females, failing that, any unattached females. My cursory glance proved to be a waste of my eyes, and I quickly strolled over to sit in one of the few spare seats between a couple of guys. The guy to my left quickly glanced away, intimidated by the imposing figure I made in a t-shirt, cargoes and thongs on this cold winter day in Sydney. The guy to my right, sporting a ‘I live in a university dorm’ beard and a hat that hid his gloriously disheveled hair gave me a friendly nod G’day. We started up a conversation. It turned out Zane, as the young lad shortly became known, was also going to Vancouver to meet his girlfriend who he hadn’t seen for over six months. She was a Canadian who had been over the previous summer on exchange. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then that whilst he had been faithfully counting the days to their reunion, she had been boning as many Australians (because isn’t that what even Canadian chick wants to do?) that had made the journey to her fair country, in addition to the usual college shenanigans with the locals.

The flight to Vancouver was stopping overnight in Taipei, China (or as some separatists may refer to it: Taiwan). Zane was keen to join me for a quiet snifter of brandy in the bar upon landing in Taipei, and then check out some of the tourist sites the next day, so we agreed to meet up at the hotel China Airlines was putting us up in. It turned out such planning was unnecessary, as we ran into each other again almost instantly upon disembarking from the plane.

As a short side note, I had successfully requested an exit row seat for the flight to Taipei. Advantages: the flight attendant who sat opposite on take off and landing was very attractive with a short skirt, I got to put my feet up on part of the emergency exit door, and I could get up without disturbing the surly quiet old guy sitting next to me. Disadvantages: I was seated next to a quiet old guy who was impressively surly, I couldn’t stretch my legs out properly without resting them on the emergency exit door, and the flight attendant who sat opposite on take off and landing kept looking at me funny.

The bus ride to the hotel was interesting. It was night, so I couldn’t see much of the landscape, but I could certainly hear it as the bus clipped low lying branches and bottomed out on the sharp corners as we made out way into the mountain side. Some of the softer people on the bus fearfully exclaimed that they’d have rather stayed all night in the airport then risk the bus ride up the goat path to our hotel. I had always thought that Taipei would be more modern, but my first impressions were not quite living up to what I had imagined.

After a quick shower, I changed back into the clothes I’d been wearing on the plane for the last 12 sweaty hours. I’d foolishly checked all my luggage into Vancouver and was stuck with what I had – not taking shoes was going to potentially limit my going out options later in the evening. I met Zane in his room next door and raided his bar fridge for beer. It turned out that the beers were about US$2 each, a bargain for a hotel mini-bar. When he was finally ready, we journeyed out in search of the hotel bar. Alas, there was none to be found. Deciding to harass the reception staff, we found out that the nearest pub was a half hour taxi away, and that all but three of the spare mini-bar beers had been already snapped up by some cleverer and more beer dedicated Aussies. Running into another Aussie who was on the same grand quest as ourselves, we grabbed the last remaining beers, and got the reception staff to open up the pool room – where I gave the other guys a free lesson in how to play pool.

One small week for man...

A lot can happen in a week. Right now, I'm sitting at my desk on a drab winter's day in a bland Government office, eating muesli bars and wishing the time away. In a weeks time, muesli will give way to granola, winter will make way for summer, and I will leave this office for the shores of the USA and a life filled with adventure.

Of course, it's not all great news. I expect that a good deal of the next month will be spent studying. People from all around the world head to New York each year, and they all have a dream. Their dream is to pass the NY bar exam. My dream is no different to theirs. Only 35% of non-American educated law students will suceed in this dream. The remaining 65% will leave the USA, having traded their dignity for a tale of unrewarded hard work. Statistically, for every one international student who passes, two must fail. I hope that Corey and I can dance triumphantly in the state of NY, but we'll be dancing to the sombre beat of the shattered dreams of 4 others who were simply not good enough.

So, back to here and now. I've quit my job, sold my car, given away anything that won't fit in my backpack (goodbye computer, Plasma TV and ANU gym membership), and now, I wait. In 9 days, I'll step out of a battered, yellow cab, ignore the fact that the driver just ripped me off, and stroll into my temporary home in the leafy Brooklyn suburb of Park Slope. I will be without expectation, but filled with hope. Thus will begin the exaggerated adventures of Hawkins and Corey.