Reasons Why I Shouldn't Go to Longreach

Firstly, do you see what I did there?

1. There is nothing in Longreach. It is a ghost rural outback town. All I would do there would be go to the motel, have a shower and sleep. There is more to do in Brisbane, it being an actual place with actual people.

2. I got about two hours sleep in very cramped train conditions last night, next to an old man who sang in his sleep and in front of a woman who called her young teenage daughter a 'bitch.'

3. There is absolutely no guarantee that I would get a window seat.

4. In 24 hours there and 24 hours back, I could pop to St. Albans by plane, have dinner with my parents (for free!), probably see a lot of my friends, sleep in my own bed and get back to Australia in time for my tour from Sydney to Cairns. This thought makes me sad.

5. I get to see the outback on the Indian Pacific train from Sydney to Perth, which is three days and actually has proper reclining seats, unlike the train to Longreach which is basically exactly like a plane only with no films or television.

6. All the stuff I would have done on the train to Longreach (reading, daydreaming, writing an epic novel, god knows) I can do in Brisbane only with more leg room.

7. The Brisbane hostel is really nice, the weather is lovely, the food is expensive but yummy and I actually get to sleep in a bed, which is a nice bonus.

Also, I shouldn't go to the BAFTAs, because I have nothing to wear, I've got out of the habit of wearing make-up, and the camera would cut to me and I'd be asleep, headfirst, in the bangers and mash. I was so tired this morning that I accidentally left my passport at reception (they returned it to me safely) and then had a shower without a towel and had to dry myself on my new t-shirt.

More Books and Stuff

I met young adult author Cassandra Clare today, although I feel that we did not form the in-depth, close personal relationship I definitely had with Morris Gleitzman and Garth Nix. This is because my shift was over, and I was no longer wearing my bright orange t-shirt with the word 'volunteer' on the back. I was just an ordinary member of the public getting my book signed and lining up for her talk, which meant I got to overhear some great things in the queue. For example:

"I went to the Melbourne festival last year, and Joss Whedon was there but I missed it. I missed Joss Whedon."

"Some people queue up for book signings for thirteen hours. Would you queue for thirteen hours to get your book signed by J. K. Rowling? I'd just follow her round the supermarket and steal her receipts."

(This is because in Australia when you buy things they give you the choice between putting in your pin number or signing. I reckon J. K. Rowling would choose pin, personally.)

And then, my personal favourite:

"She's so weird. She had to leave university early to go and paint her TARDIS."

Anyway, Cassandra Clare was funny and interesting and at the book signing me, her and an Australian girl had a very brief conversation about the fact that the world is supposed to end today and whether we're safe as it's already evening in Australia.

On Monday I have a twelve hour train journey to Brisbane, arriving at six o'clock in the morning, then twelve hours in Brisbane before a twenty-four hour train journey to Longreach, a night in Longreach and then a twenty-four hour journey back. Then one night in Brisbane and a twelve-hour train journey back to Sydney. This is completely mental, but luckily I have my iPod (which will inevitably run out of battery), a blank notebook, four pens, and five books that I have not yet read. Hopefully I won't be sitting next to someone weird, because the other day on the train I was next to a woman reading the Bible who tried to convert me to Christianity, and that would not be fun for twenty-four hours.

Backstage at a Rock Concert

No, of course I didn't go backstage at a rock concert. I went backstage at the Sydney Writers' Festival Primary School event in Penrith while volunteering. More or less the same thing. The second I arrived at the Performance Centre where the event was being held I had a conversation with Morris Gleitzman the children's author without realising he was Morris Gleitzman the children's author until he mentioned that he would be signing his books.

My job was to usher primary schools into the venue along with another volunteer, and then write children's names on post-it notes so that the authors (Morris Gleitzman and Deborah Abela) would be able to spell their names correctly when signing autographs. This was mostly easy (Sophie, Sam) but then other times confusing (Mikhayla, Kyprian, the fact that nearly every Australian boy is called Lachlan.)

I was then officially allowed to leave, but I found out that Garth Nix was on next with another author called Sean Williams with whom he co-wrote a book. I hung around outside the stage door like a groupie until they came out, then said 'Garth Nix?' at both of them, not sure which was which. Then I got Garth Nix's autograph for April (I seem to remember her being a big fan of his books, it would be a bit awkward now if I was confusing her with someone else.) He gave me a couple of free signed bookmarks, then we had a conversation about the St. Albans Waterstones and the fact that nearly every Australian boy is called Lachlan.

Tragically, my stalkerdom meant that rather than leaving I was asked to do post-its for all the kids wanting their copies of Sabriel signed, but I didn't really mind, even when I had to run to the mall to buy extra post-it notes and even though I spent the entire day wearing a bright orange t-shirt. I hope whatever shift I am doing tomorrow involves being backstage with authors, although I hope I don't make an idiot of myself in front of Markus Zusak.

Nightclubs

I have been spending a lot of time in the bookshop. I have also been spending a lot of time in the bar, which every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night transforms into a nightclub.

Now, don't get me wrong, I like socialising. I love getting a little bit dressed up to go out in St Albans with some people who I've known forever, where we have a few drinks and sit on the sofas in Lloyds. Clubbing, however, is not really my favourite thing in the world.

I couldn't really make less effort here short of going out in my pyjamas. Whenever I go out I'm wearing a t-shirt, jeans and flip flops with no make-up. Occasionally I might really go to town and actually brush my hair, but not very often. Due to budget, I only buy the five dollar cocktails, and the most I've had in one night is three. I have been out a lot over the past three weeks, because the bar is next door and it's a good way to meet people. It was fun at first after a couple of months of conservation work, but I'm beginning to get a little bit tired of it.

For example, I have heard that song 'Price Tag' by Jessie J so much that I think I know all the words. And that song where Rihanna talks about how much chains and whips excite her, and 'Firework' by Katy Perry, which is actually alright, and 'On the Floor' by Beyonce, and that really annoying one that's just a beat and some words which make no sense. Normally I have absolutely no idea about any music unless it is either on my iPod or played in the background of a film I just watched.

Not only have I listened to a lot of music which I don't really like, I've also met a lot of weirdoes. Or, possibly not even weirdoes, just the kind of people that really, really enjoy nightclubs. Yesterday, with some trepidation, I went to the bar by myself for the first time in the hope that I would make friends there. I did, but then a guy put his hand on my thigh before introducing himself. I don't know about anyone else, but I prefer to say 'Hi, I'm Anne, who are you?" before I grope people. (That makes it sound like I frequently grope people. I really, really don't.)

It is impossible to cross the dance floor to go to the bathroom without being felt up a little bit and having beer spilled all over my shoes. Last night I refused to let someone buy me a drink in case he spiked it with anything (I did let a nineteen year old geography student from Birmingham buy me a drink last week when he bought everyone a round, but that was a little different.) While he was off buying a drink for himself, I was sitting alone, and a guy who was probably in his mid-twenties came up, pointed at me, pointed at himself, and then made dancing gestures followed by kissing gestures. Devastatingly romantic though this undoubtedly was, I mimed 'sorry but no.' And that's another thing, no-one can hear you say no, you just have to mouth it while making pushing-away gestures like you're a traffic controller.

Now I hate to sound like a boring person, but recently I have had beer force poured down my throat, watched a guy swallow a tampon whole (yes, really), been offered sex in the lift, and had two people making out against me while I try and maintain a straight-faced conversation with someone about the Sydney Powerhouse Museum of Science and Design.

I think I might just go to the bookshop.

Australian Dictionary

Here are some new words I have learnt:

Tim Tams: A bit like Penguin biscuits, only not packaged individually.

Lamingtons: Coconut and chocolate sponge cakes.

Pashing: Snogging

Pash Rash: Rash around mouth from too much pashing. I don't know if this is a widely used term or just said by one girl from Perth who someone was telling me about.

Thongs: Flip-flops. This results in a lot of confusing and awkward conversations. I also learnt that in New Zealand flip-flops are called 'Jandals', or 'Japanese Sandals.'

Lift: Fizzy lemonade soft drink.

Solo: Other fizzy lemonade soft drink. I can't really taste the difference.

Monotreme: Mammals which lay eggs. There are only two, the platypus and the echidna.

Diprotodon: Giant extinct Australian marsupial. Basically a wombat the size of a hippopotamus. I want one as a pet.

Singlet: Vest top

Capsicum: Pepper, as in red pepper or green pepper. This is, for some reason, a really fun word to use. "Would you like some capsicum on your pizza?"

Tomato Sauce: I asked for ketchup yesterday and the guy was like "You mean tomato sauce?"

Latte: Does not in any way resemble a latte. Basically a regular coffee with a tiny amount of milk.

Esky: Cool box for storing food. I prefer this word to 'cool box.'

Ute: Utility vehicle or pick-up truck.

According to my Lonely Planet guide and Wikipedia, 'Bludger' is slang for a lazy person. However I've not heard anyone use this and probably if I called someone a bludger they'd think I was talking about Quidditch.

And you thought Catie was doing all the language learning in Austria.

CVA

So, I have just finished six weeks of Conservation Volunteers Australia. I will begin with...

Week 1: Upon my arrival in North Geelong, one of the most zombie-apocalypse type places on Earth, I made friends with a nineteen year old girl from Liverpool who did the same A-Levels as me, and likes the same TV shows. This was unbelievably lucky. A group of us went with our team leader, Mr. Darcy (his actual name, he insisted we call him Michael but whatever) to Bimbi Park Caravan site down the Great Ocean Road, which is full of koalas. We dug a trail through the rainforest, which was amazing; dressed like a combination of Indiana Jones and Bob the Builder. I spent a lot of time being bitten by mosquitoes and pulling leeches from my socks.

Week 2: Just me and Ellie from Liverpool in the CVA house that week, which meant a lot of eating food and watching television. We went to the Serendip wildlife sanctuary to rabbit-proof a fence with a load of old men. That was the week when I encountered a wolf spider and learnt that I have absolutely no upper-body strength.

Week 3: A group of us went to Camperdown, to stay in another caravan site in little cabins. After weeding various gardens in the area, we went sightseeing and saw the Twelve Apostles. My favourite day that week was when we went to do some planting at a local secondary school, and got a tour of the school by an apparently legendary retired teacher, who had a garden planted in the school in his honour.

Week 4: Possibly the best week of CVA. Went to Hamilton, a small town in the middle of nowhere, to work on the farm of what were probably the world's richest Australian farmers. They had an amazing farmhouse, and let us stay one night in their incredible holiday home in the Grampians, which had two enormous 'cottages' and their own private lake. We broke all CVA rules by going fishing on the lake and drinking alcohol. We had Andrew as our team leader this time, and he was a bit like Stephen Fry in the sense that he knew lots about lots of different things.

Week 5: Stayed in Hamilton, saying goodbye to Ellie-from-Liverpool who finished CVA. Spent the week with a twenty-nine year old Spanish vet called Yolanda who seemed to eat only fruit and vegetables. We went with our new team leader to rake various playgrounds around Hamilton and spread mulch. I spent most of the time in Hamilton library, to the point where two days before I was due to leave they actually offered me library membership.

Week 6: Yolanda left, and two nineteen-year-old guys came to the Hamilton house, one from Wales and the other from Belgium. This was possibly the most fun I had in the CVA house because they were completely insane and managed to break the clock and the fridge by playing sport indoors. One night we played Murder in the Dark. Pierre from Belgium ate more than I have ever seen a human being eat. The work was weeding around the wetlands in the rain, which was a bit cold and miserable. I was pretty happy to leave Hamilton because there wasn't much to do as everything seemed to close on the weekends.

Phew. Now I'm in Sydney, staying in a youth hostel, which is turning out to be very, very cool even though the only friends I've made so far are some guys from LA who left this morning. I won a free t-shirt hermit crab racing, a sentence I never thought I'd be able to say. I've realised that until the 7th May when I start volunteering at the Sydney Writer's Festival I have absolutely no responsibilities other than not to spend all of my money. Little scary but good.

Teaser Trailer

I have 9 minutes remaining on this library computer, so I sadly don't have time to do an in-depth blog post right now.

However, COMING SOON: the weekend after next, I will be writing a lengthy blog post about CVA (Conservation Volunteers Australia) and everything I have been up to. Stay tuned.