Sydney - Sept. 15, 2018

This was it - our last day in Australia. Mark's was a very short last day - he headed out at 6am for his flight. My luggage was back at the WeWork to make it easier for me to tour around today, so, after two hours of seeing if I’d fall back asleep, then finding Dick van Dyke’s Diagnosis Murder, then a quick shower, I was back on my way. 

I rode the train (I was getting good at navigating the stations with my Opal card) up to St. James, hopped out and walked to the WeWork, then ate breakfast (thanks APT), charged my phone, and figured out my plan.

Decided first to walk north to The Rocks on my way to the Harbor Bridge and the Pylon Lookout. 

The narrow streets of The Rocks, an area just outside of the main ferry terminal at Circular Quay, are cute as long as you are going downhill on all the staircases. I wove toward the center, found a market, and realized this was the one place that I actually needed that Australian cash. I got some things, but the ornaments were cash-only, and the nearest ATM was out of service, so I considered it a sign and kept walking. 

I ended up underneath the Harbour Bridge, thinking the Pylon Lookout would start at wharf level. Instead, you had to walk out on the pedestrian walkway on the bridge to get to it. Not too hard, but quite a steep walk back up to where the bridge started. 

The Lookout was actually a museum as well. The 1920s and 1930s, when the bridge had been built, were impressive for their ability to make huge things with the machinery and manpower they had - and with telephone lines that went up for the managers to talk back down to the workers stationed at the edges!

After photos and descriptions of feats of engineering, I climbed up to the viewing deck. Looking out over the bridge, the first thing I saw were three groups of bridge walkers! For only $150 more, I too could have climbed the steel arch of the Harbour Bridge! (I made the economical $10 choice, and, looking down, I got plenty high enough.)

I gazed across the weaving of the harbour, watching ferries and, specifically, keeping an eye on a wedding ceremony site just along the harbor. I was there at 12:25 - I stayed until 12:35, hoping to catch the ceremony starting, but by then guess it wasn’t supposed to start until 1, if not later.

Instead, I learned that white cats lived in that pylon when it was a curiosity museum! Also, the pylons weren’t needed for engineering of the bridge - they were just a pretty decoration that got incorporated into the design. 

My next stop was going through the Royal Botanic Gardens to see the harbor from sea level. It was a beautiful, sunny day (and I had put my sunscreen on!) at around 80 degrees, so it was easy to meander and listen to my podcasts. I found a rock outcropping to play in, then some birds - including a kookaburra! - and some statues and some flowers, but just taking iconic pictures of the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge was keeping me happy. 

My stomach was growling, and I had happened to see a daytrip out to Watsons Bay on the ferry recommended, with a fish and chip shop right at the ferry dock. 

I spent ten of the twenty minutes before the ferry trying to figure out which of my credit cards had a PIN, or if I needed to go find an ATM or use my debit card. It got sorted (my new favorite verb), and I was aboard the ferry. 

It was a thirty minute trip, and it really showed some of the ins and outs of the bays along the harbour (since there was a stop at Rose Bay), and all the water sports people did. Kite surfing and wind sailing and sailing and yachting (is that a sport?) and kayak and stand up paddle boards - and just swimming and playing beach volleyball! I’d need to pick up at least one of those before moving here!

The tempura-fried whiting almost flew away at the first picnic bench past the lunch counter, so I moved further up the hill. I’m glad I did, not because someone awkwardly tried to make me the caretaker of a lost wallet, but instead because my plan of walking around the point went out the window when I realized the Tasmanian Sea was just over the hill. 

I walked along the cliffs, which had memorials and signs for suicide hotlines, which was sad but uplifting for those that were giving hope and ways to get help.

The ocean against the cliffs was artistic, though a sunrise there would be stunning instead of nearing sunset. I went along to the two viewpoints that were closest on the map before checking my watch - my ferry was leaving, and I had a plane to catch!

I made it onto the 4:50 boat, back to the WeWork by 5:45 to change and grab my luggage, and airport by 6:30 via the train again. (Exiting, I had $1.30 on my Opal card - nearly perfect guesstimations of train and ferry costs.)

The Hawaiian Airlines check-in was just opening, so essentially the entire flight was queued up for bag tags and passport checks. I found a restaurant that took Priority Pass, bought enough food for two meals, then continued binging on the “Up and Vanished” podcast while cross-stitching.

A layover in Honolulu (another lounge) and a flight to NYC before getting to DC. Essentially, it was two red-eyes in a row. While the long flights are a downside, they are where the majority of this blog got written - so forward-thinking of me. And that's all from the Grand Canyon + Australia 2018 30th birthday trip!

Wollongong and Bondi - Sept 11-14

I headed out mid-day on Tuesday from Manly to get down to Wollongong to see where Mark was working. While it was nice to bookend my week with working in the Sydney office, it wasn't necessary, so I figured hanging out at a hotel would be fine as well. I found Mark and his hotel, he made me dinner in his kitchenette, and I, again, slept for a bit before my meetings at midnight. 

Wednesday was all at his hotel. I met him and coworkers for lunch at a Thai place in a trendy part of Wollongong, then took an afternoon nap, worked until dinner, and walked with Mark to Clifton, 1km and one town down. We found his coworkers again (plus one of their partners, so I wasn’t the only one who didn’t work together) and sat in the back area of a bar where others didn’t find us until they’d had a drink on the other side. 

We conversed - well-traveled people, Australians who’d lived in England, took month-long vacations to America, and still knew which spiders and snakes could kill you. We got a lift back and the cycle started again - a little bit of sleep before a midnight meeting, then up by 7am to catch the tail end of their day. 

Thursday the 13th I was headed back to Sydney, and I actually timed my train so I wouldn’t have to wait half an hour to ride an additional 90 minutes, as I did on the way down. I was giving a noon session presentation on UX at APT - cobbled together a few presentation from back in DC, then did a lot of Q&A. 

For evening activities, a coworker had made a reservation at Mr. Wong’s, a well-known Asian fusion restaurant. It was down an alley, so you felt cool just for knowing how to get in. And the food was on point. The fried ice cream was a “religious experience” for some of my coworkers (maybe if I liked butterscotch more? It was certainly delicious!)

I took at taxi out to Bondi where I was staying on a coworker's couch for the evening, and we took a walk along the beach and circled the town before heading to bed. 

Friday, Mark headed in from Wollongong, but there were company-wide meetings and office sessions that I was busy attending. He came by at 5, we grabbed some beers from the WeWork taps (well, a cider for me), and I introduced him to the dozen people in the office. We rallied some troops (three coworkers and a partner) to go to The Baxter Inn - yet another entrance in an alley that made me feel special.

The bar had a speak-easy feel, and we only had to wait a bit for a table to open up and us to sit. Sadly, it was very, very loud. Still, with some vocal gymnastics, we conversed over whisky and wine. 

Mark hadn’t had dinner, so we headed off to a recommended Hunter & Barrel, a round restaurant on the water. I convinced Mark to get the lamb (which was pricey, but worth it!) while I got bread with oil and dukkah (an amazing spice blend).

We finished with a walk over to The Star, a fancy but kinda empty-looking shopping mall so we could try Messina, a recommended gelato shop. We entered by a movie theater but otherwise, the white hallways were pretty echo-y - until we got to gelato. Dulce de leche, strawberry and cream, and chocolate - great end to the evening. 

Sydney Area - Sept. 9-10

Early Sunday morning, we caught an Uber to our flight, dropped off our bags, then hustled over to the lounge to spend ten minutes eating before heading to our flight to Sydney. A detour to the bathroom, and we were among the last group to board the plane. 

Mark was heading down to Wollongong for work when he got in, and his driver was waiting for him. I had gotten an address for a coworker’s place up in Manly, so I gave the wine bottles to Mark and we parted ways for a few days. I made my way (with a large suitcase) into Circular Quay (pronounced Key) and onto a ferry! Manly is north of the CBD (central business district) of Sydney, but we had to cruise past the Harbor Bridge and the Opera House on the way - already being a successful tourist!

Leah and her husband were hanging out, and I chatted for a bit, then took a walk with Leah. We wandered though the Saturday market (didn’t have the salad fixings we wanted for dinner), then watched her husband surf on Manly Beach before stopping by the grocery to pick me up a steak and cookies (and salad) for the evening’s meal.

It wasn’t time to cook yet, so I disappeared for a nap. When I woke up, Leah’s husband was just back, and the suvee was pretty much done with the first cooking of the steaks. The “barbie” (these were Americans, so I can’t vouch if they actually say that in Australia) was started and each steak got a nice sear. Asparagus, salad, and some cookies, popped in the oven to re-warm, and  I was super satisfied. 10pm, so, bedtime, right?

Monday I followed Leah to work the next day - she commuted on the fast ferry (smaller and 10 minutes faster than the one I took yesterday) and we got to the WeWork space where we’re renting for two more weeks until a move into a centralized Mastercard tech hub in North Sydney.

I claimed a desk which had a keyboard and monitors... but the keyboard didn’t have any labels on it! I don’t touchtype numbers well, so I spent 15 minutes trying to get my RSA token to work before realizing I was entering it incorrectly. 

Monday mornings are an office-wide meeting, so I sat in as they discussed clients and sales prospects and schedules and workloads for the next week. Then it was catching up on emails from the previous eight work days of holiday, and then a very acidic salad with pumpkin for lunch. (Pumpkin not just being a fall food in Australia - I approve.)

When Leah and her husband were talking about some of the good food they had made in Australia, lamb came up. As I was spending one more evening with them, I asked if I could request it - and, by 3pm, we had confirmation that lamb lollipops were bought and ready to suvee then sear. 

Man, that was a great dinner as well! More wine, a couscous salad, and minty yogurt. 

I slept for an hour before waking up for my midnight meeting (10am east coast) to greet my team as they started their day!

 

Adelaide - Sept. 8

Saturday was our day to relive what Mark knew about Adelaide, so we started the (slightly sluggish) morning with a trip over to Flinders. Their older daughter was going to dance class afterward so she accompanied Manoj, me, and Mark in her leotard. 

The campus is built on a hill - the boys pointed at where they played soccer together (how they met), then headed into the main quad to see if Mark could orient himself to find the archeology buildings. They were past the snazzy student center, where I beat an eight-year-old at foosball. 

Next on our to-do list, after we dropped her off at dance, was shopping. Mark fell in love with black opals - a type that are a lot bluer and greener than you’d expect from the name - when he lived here eleven years ago. He tells everyone that he had decided when he was in grad school that he wouldn't buy a girl a diamond before he bought himself a black opal. Given that our engagement ring was a family heirloom given to him, he was able to squeak by that one on a technicality. 

The first shop was nice, but it was hard to connect the information we knew with what they were selling. The second shop knew how to cater to non-locals - a brochure about the types of opals, with a graphic for how opals are mounted. Larger opals can be set once they are polished. Smaller, thinner cuts can be mounted as a “doublet”, using a backing stone to help the color and the strength, or a “triplet”, with both a backing stone and a see-through layer on top to protect the stone. 

Once the few men’s rings that they had didn’t fit Mark’s style, we moved on to the loose opals. Each opal is so unique - the light plays differently, and the patterns within them have names like “graffiti” and “Chinese writing.” Mark’s favorite, the “rolling flash”, didn’t have any at the size and price point we wanted, but he also realized how unique the one he saw in person years ago was. We spent a long time looking at options, and had narrowed it down to three when the salesperson took it out into the sunlight with us. One continued to light up, and that is the one that Mark took home. It was over the baseline for getting taxes back, so we got below list price for it. And it was Australian dollars anyway (which are $.75USD to A$1)!

With our search successful, we stepped back outside and realized how hungry we were. We were meeting the rest of the family at a party at park in Adelaide Hills, so we headed that direction for food. 

Anya had created a map with six different wineries on it around the area, but we started with her lunch recommendations - Seasonal Garden Cafe. It was in a slightly German-influenced town, with cute storefronts, but mostly, it was delicious (even though I made the boys sit inside - after the dive yesterday, I didn’t need another hour of being slightly chilled). Mark and I both ate our sandwiches open-faced, but then the bread was so good we ate the second slice as well. 

Then we were off! We started at O’Leary Walker, which was my favorite of the day. It was very nice, but unpretentious. It was a “make your own” tasting from their wine list that was 20 bottles long, and each of us did a little something different. I did the whites, then found a great rose. Mark did the reds, and we actually really enjoyed the Pinot. Manoj jumped around (since he was driving), but we all tried their high-end, barrel-aged Shiraz blend, and agreed it was significantly better than the others... but not three times better like the price suggested.

Next on the list was Shaw + Smith. They had a sleek building (where you weren’t completely sure if you knew that you were going through a door, a window, or an off-limits hall as you were walking in). We eventually got greeted and seated with a placemat with their six types of wine they were serving. Mark and I shared a tasting, and we enjoyed some, but the experience was sub-par. It was $15, no personal touch (until near the end), and the wines, at at least $30 each, were more than I wanted to spend. 

We left the building, and Mark’s dreams had become reality. He said that adding kangaroos to the vineyards would be a perfect Adelaide day - and two were waiting for us when we came out! They were quite a few rows back, so hard to photograph, but it’s among the Australian clichés we were able to live out. 

The wine guy who eventually stopped by our table at S+S recommended CRFT as a new winery nearby to try. The tiny house was set back into its vineyards, with room for just a few groups. The family next to us was making a great end of the day, with their cheese and olives. Mark saw the olives and perked up - we’d had at least two glasses of wine each at this point (they make sure they tell you as they pour - it’s an Australian law to know exactly how much you’ve drank.) Out came olives and a few good tastes of wine, but just the German Guetter Vietlinger white was the only one that interested me - and we’re headed into fall in the US, so we weren't interested in bringin home whites.

Empty-handed but not disappointed, it was time to join up with the rest of the family. We got to the park, parked when we saw a field with adults and kids running around, but got the call from Anya that directed up to the large manor house where our (well, their) party was. 

Kristy was having her 40th, and all the friends and family were invited. We drank, met people, tried to determine if Mark had met them a decade ago, talked about our vacation, and munched. At six or so, so large pots of pre-bought curry were set up, with a trickling flow of rice from the rice cooker and naan. We feasted!

A cake, singing (with more “hip hip hoorays”) and a lovely speech by the birthday girl, and Mark, Anya, Manoj and another friend or two sat around and talked until our rides told us it was time to leave. Which was good, because we hadn’t packed up the laundry yet. 

We consolidated cars and made it back to south Adelaide. We said our goodbyes to the girls (who shouldn’t be up at 6am when we needed to leave) and Manoj and Anya for their hospitality, got our bags ready and, yet again, fell into bed.

Rapid Bay and Adelaide - Sept. 7

Manoj and Anya has somehow managed to work their schedules and the cars such that they could give us a ride to Adelaide Scuba - meeting before 9am for our prep for our dive.

Mark’s favorite underwater creature that he’s ever dove with was a leafy sea dragon. These large seahorse relatives have branch-like growths that hide them well, but their appearance isn’t very practical for swimming. Rapid Bay was determined as the site for the day, so we geared up. After getting our 7mm wetsuits, Mark also asked for a hood for us - which was good forethought. The dive shop acted like it was cold, but not too bad... which is all relative. 

We hopped into the dive shop’s twin cab truck for the 90 minute drive to Rapid Bay. I scouted for kangaroos (with no luck), and we learned about our guide, Darrill, and his similar story to ours - meeting his partner while he was helping with a dive class she was taking!

We stopped at a bakery (Yar-something?) on the way to the bay and grabbed a donut for now and a pie (literally a mini pie for me, but a hand pie for Mark) for later. 

It was nearly 11 when we cruised up. We set up gear, changed into our suits, and soaked up the last of the mid-70s and sunny external weather.

Rapid Bay had an old wooden pier that declined over time, rotting and becoming unsafe. The connecting section to the beach was destroyed to prevent people from walking on it, and a new metal pier was built more recently. The old pier, parallel and longer than the first, ended in a T that split out to both sides.

Walking out the 200 meters on the new pier to the steps with all the equipment (and 8kgs of weight to hold my wetsuit down once I was diving) was rough - my waistband was not tight enough to take the weight off my shoulders, which dragged the already tight neck of my wetsuit even tighter. The fisherman and their catches (specifically the cuttlefish, whose ink they were using to graffiti the slate of the dock) were a slight distraction that I was grateful for as I felt like I was choking.

The shock of the cold water couldn’t frighten me enough to not get that heavy weight off my back, so in I went, inflating my BCD and putting on my fins. Good thing we had gotten practice in the cold pool at the Deep Blue Hotel’s hot springs!

Down we went, with cold water flooding my suit and hood. I (per usual) was a little slow at going down, but releasing the pressure from the hood helped. We followed a set of spikes drilled into the sandy bottom to get across to the pier, and, at the pier, the sea life greeted us. 

The red corals and starfish, the old wood along the bottom now covered with blues and greens of plant life - it was so colorful, and in an individual way. Along a tropical coral wall, everything bleeds together. Here, the separate species made each seem more intricate and more colorful. The hermit crab walking along with its found shell. The sand crab, moving sideways along the sand between the beams. The “fancy” crab, with a long, dangly, frilly bit off its head and one claw that was bigger to snatch anything that would come to investigate. The starfish were of multiple types and colors, and every so often I’d see a sea urchin. 

The guide hasn’t seemed worried about old fishing line (instead, he had talked about blue ring octopus that have a venom that will kill you... thanks), but I saw some pretty significant lines. As I was packing for Mark for diving, I had restricted him to just a few pieces of equipment. His line cutter was not one of them, since I believed our guide would have one. 

Looking back to check on Mark about ten minutes into the dive, he motioned me over and had me look at his fin - a piece of line had gotten caught under his heel. It was easy for me (with two hands and perfect vision of his foot) to extract and didn’t require cutting, but I’m sure all that both of us were thinking about was that line cutter that he didn’t have. 

After extracting him and checking that he was doing ok, we moved along the old pier for twenty minutes before reaching the T-shape and heading right. Mark took pictures galore, swimming over to this or that thing that was tantalizing - and he’s a man, so his air tank was emptying slightly faster than mine. In this case, my hands were also starting to get numb - really, I was just cold all over. We turned back not long after getting past the T. 

You know what we didn’t see? A leafy seadragon. If we had, I’m not sure I would’ve gone in for a second dive. 

The walk back wasn’t as bad - the general numbness, the exertion adding some warmth, and, the trick I kept in mind for the next time - a very inflated BCD that gripped on my hips to better balance the weight there and not just on my shoulders. 

We got back to the car and Darrill fired up the heater. I wasn’t going to fully get out of my suit as we switched tanks, ate lunch, and took care of bodily functions, but I unwrapped my torso from the suit and used a towel instead.

An hour later, re-warmed, we started all over. The trip down the dock was easier with an inflated BCD, and now, we were going to be strategic with our air. We were going to snorkel (or just swim on our backs, as I did) mostly to the T, then find “the grid” - a I-bar grid that had turned into a good place to find sea dragons. 

In the car ride, Darrill said he had only not seen sea dragons on a day that was so turbulent and such low visibility that he couldn’t even see his face, so he had a lot of confidence in us seeing one. 

We got our with five to ten minutes of swimming, then headed down. My ears were worse than the first dive, so I swam above as we headed toward the grid. About five or ten minutes into the dive, we got there. We each took a row and swam along, looking on the leeward side (and the “windward” one too, really - not going to not look somewhere). The surge wasn’t very rough, but it was a consistent rocking motion, and sea dragons aren’t good swimmers, so they stick to the calmest water they can find - like sheltered between I-beams. 

It was twenty minutes into a 40-45 minute dive, and we hadn’t seen a dragon. The grid had been searched, and Darrill just headed out along the pier and - fist pump! - he spotted one. 

It was pretty outstanding - this frilly green thing hovering over a mix of sand with some coral polyps, but not the waving sea grass I was expecting that would complement them. The poor thing was being controlled by the water - mostly upside down and resigned to its fate. The little fins were working, and it poked at a rock or two with its beak, but mostly we just drifted along with it for ten minutes, taking pictures and enjoying the ride. 

Darrill turned us back, and we did the fastest swim I’ve ever done while diving to get back to the steps. I don’t know if it was the cold or the air that caused the speed up, but my legs churned all the way back. I was breathing very regularly - not out of breath, but definitely working. We made it to the steps, rejoiced for a second, then we launched ourselves toward the car to get out of our suits, dry, and packed up. 

I had become more accustomed to going from salt water to dry recently, but the salt residue was a big pet peeve of mine for a while. Given that the closest showers were at the shop (and we didn’t have a dry towel anyway by the time we got there), I switched into dry clothes and called it good. Well, I did the bottom half of switching when we got to the public restrooms by the bakery... and Mark got me a mini custard pie. 

We drove back, talking about wine and spotting a few kangaroos here and there. I can’t remember if I decided to nod off or not...

Back at the shop, Anya was coming to pick us up, so we chatted with the owner, who talked about wreck recoveries in the Philippines, as well as some apparently well-connected US divers that we hadn’t heard of (unsurprisingly - Mark doesn’t actually read his PADI magazines).

Anya pulled up and graciously offered to take us the 25 minutes back home to shower and change, but with a dinner reservation in an hour downtown, it would’ve been tight. Mark just continued wearing his hat, and my sunglasses became a headband. 

Anya’s parent live in a condo right near the CBD (Central Business District - a beloved acronym in Australia). We looked for street parking and, finding none, took advantage of the open garage door under the condo to park in a neighbor's spot. 

Up at her parent’s place, her dad was watching some “footie” (which is a generic term for rugby in the north, Aussie-rules football in the south - though in this case, it was Aussie-rules), and I learned more about the game that I had picked up slightly for the night before.

Manoj met us at the apartment, and we all walked over to a great Asian tapas restaurant - really, the way better version of Wah Wah Gee in Geelong. We had duck pancakes (after harassing the girls about pancakes shaped like ducks or made of ducks in the car), chicken, prawns, rice, wine, and, yet, still saved a hint of room for dessert at the family’s favorite gelato place. I had bread and butter bread pudding gelato (the raisins didn’t take away too much for the flavor). 

On the way to dessert, we had lost Anya’s father when he popped into a bar to check the score. There was fifteen minutes left in the game, so Manoj, Mark, and I joined for the ending before taking a borrowed car back to south Adelaide. As exhausted as we all were, we again started pouring some wine and talking. A small fire was made (which took much more effort this time), we started our laundry, and the first load got hung to dry as we headed to bed. 

Adelaide - Thurs., Sept. 6

We took our time getting started in Geelong for our drive to Melbourne, to get things appropriately packed up for our flight to Adelaide, Mark's old stomping grounds. My planned portion of the trip was completed, and it was time to stop by Mark's alma mater and then get ready for work on Monday.

We filled the little red car with gas, dropped it off, then went through security. We found a restaurant that worked with our Priority Passes and got eggs on buns and Bloody Mary's before our unmemorable flight.

Landing in Adelaide, we took quick a long and traffic-y Uber trip to Mark's friends' house - he was going to see Manoj and Anya for the first time in about a decade! Mark met them when he attended Flinders for his masters in the late 00s. And I was getting to meet them and their daughters for the first time.

After dropping off our stuff in the guest room, we met the girls and the dog and got a quick tour. Their backyard included a large clothes rack (dryers aren't common) and a half-built chicken shed that was mostly a cover for the girls to do "discovery" behind it.

Anya, Mark, the girls, and I then took a walk along the trails to the girls' school, complete with downed trees as play equipment and story settings. They lived by the gorge, what they called a large park that separated them from Flinders, so we did a bit of downhill into that before Manoj called with his ETA. We walked back along the neighborhood streets to get home for dinner.

The meal of pork with cracklin, mustard, slaw, and potatoes was the gas in the tank we needed for the birthday dance party. Though a day late, they celebrated by taking out half a cake (that they had made and eaten the previous day) and attractively covering it with strawberries - and at the end of the "Happy Birthday" song, they added a “hip hip hooray” at the end that’s classically Aussie.

The girls performed an impressively (and probably slightly impromptu) choreography to Shake It Off (and I showed them a Jazzercise move or two). We did a cultural exchange as well: they taught me how to “floss” before dinner and I taught them the “shopping cart.”

After the girls went to bed, Manoj built a fire and there was lots of reminiscing about Mark visiting in Nepal. When Manoj had had his eyes closed for five minutes (and I was struggling to keep my eyes open), we decided to call it a night.

Great Ocean Road - Sept. 5

We woke up at Warrnambool, ready to make the return trek to our evening accommodations in Geelong along the Great Ocean Road.

Since we got in fairly late (and focused on the hot springs), it was time to give a bit of our attention to Warrnambool - and nothing looked better than a whale nursery lookout at Logan’s Beach! An Australian was there with binoculars and gave us a bit of information on the location, but he wasn't sure (or I didn't capture) whether we were sure it was a grey whale.

Leaving the wind of the beach, we grabbed a breakfast of bacon and egg rolls at a nearby cafe, before resuming the road trip. All of the advertising had gotten me, so we only made it 20 minutes to Cheese World, where we grabbed wine, cheese, and sea salt pita chips for snacks for later.

Now, it was time for the postcard tour. The western half of the Great Ocean Road follows the Twelve Apostles Marine Preserve, and every few minutes, another named hunk of rock had a parking lot and a walk to an overlook. We started with Bay of Islands.

Bay of Islands gave us an idea of what we'd be seeing that day - worn down layers of softer sedimentary rock were on harder base layers, so each island was stacked like a crepe cake, with nearly vertical edges into the ocean.

To get closer to these rocks, we stopped at the Grotto next. Walking down to the beach, we found the arch that had been worn away to form this sunken lair. I found being next to that, and the framing of the ocean in the arch, to be one of my favorite sights of the day.

Then we stopped at London Bridge (you can likely imagine what that rock looked like), then The Arch (off the side of a cliff, instead of on an island), then, on our way to Loch Ard Gorge, we finally found them! Live kangaroos!

They were up on a hill in the distance, but we had at least seen them once in Australia, so could check that off.

Loch Ard Gorge was a hike down onto a sandy beach in between two cliffs. We weren't sure how tides worked, so we wandered for a little before making sure we wouldn't get cut off from the wooden stairs and exit when it seemed like the water was rising.

Since our next stop was the Twelve Apostles, and it was only five minutes down the road, I got the keys to the car. Mark finally got to experience how unnerving it is to be that close to the edge of the road on the passenger's side with no control! Driving wasn't hard at all, but it certainly gave him some empathy for me being on the left side of the car all the time.

The lot of cars and buses and groups had grown by the time we parked at Twelve Apostles. It was nice that we had stayed so close, because the buses coming from Melbourne were later in the day and added to the crowds. A school group asked us some questions about why we had come to see the Apostles, and we answered then after taking a look at the (not twelve) islands in the distance. It was a well-developed park post, so the bathroom line wasn't too bad.

Our last nature destination of the morning was the Gibson Steps. After going in and out of the car just that many times, we decided not to make our way down the hundreds of steps to the beach. Instead, we watched a surfer take on a wave before finding lunch.

And we had to search. Princetown was very much a locals town, and the restaurant was the only one in the town, period. The darken interior, wood tables, and fireplace made it seem eternally at dusk. The retirees meeting up for their beer and fish and chips helped the mood as well.

With all the success of waterfalls yesterday, I decided I wanted another for my birthday, so we cut inland to Triplet Falls. It was an hourlong hike, with interpretive signs to teach us that carnivorous snails and platypus were in this park! Sadly, we didn't see either - what a birthday that would have been!

We did find the falls, and I played with the DSLR's settings to see if we could get that blurry water picture. We got a lot of blurry pictures, that's for sure! There was the remains of a logging mill along the trail as well, but that was much less picturesque and special.

We'd covered as much of the Great Ocean Road as we had planned, so we used the faster inland roads to cut an hour off the drive time to get to the Gate House on Ryrie in Geelong (emphasis on the long when pronouncing).

We got there right at 6, when the proprietor had said he was going to leave, so didn't yet meet him as we found our room. The parking lot was small, and the house was configured such that we wound our way through the old house's kitchen to our room and attached kitchen and bath. The mansion's gravitas was a bit wounded by the fact that it was across the street from a “mackers” (McDonald's).

I had planned myself a nice dinner at Wah Wah Gee on the wharf - it was well-rated and had reservations for the time we wanted, and it was on the pier! We walked there with pretty high expectations, but the restaurant was much more casual than we anticipated. Because of the "small plates" nature, we ended up ordered the greasiest fried food on the menu, but treated ourselves to their nice cocktails.

As we were walking back to the mansion, we passed a lively-looking restaurant with an American theme and decided to go get shakes afterward - because my birthday was almost over!

Sugared up, we returned back to our creaky but enjoyable room for our last evening driving in Australia.

Great Ocean Road - Sept 4

On Tuesday morning, we awoke in our motel at the back of a bar. We split the date/fig bar because we had a couple long drives. I made a bit of a mistake when planning our hotels - thankfully, the Great Ocean Road is about 4.5 hours from tip to tail, and we had 3 days to explore it.

So, on Day 2 of the Great Ocean Roadtrip, we started in Apollo Bay, which is about halfway. Then we went backwards (east), and thus got to see everything we passed in the dark last night.

I was still on the righthand side of the car, so instead of cliff faces, I now got to watch the ocean! ...and cars barreling past that I perceived to be too close for comfort.

Thankfully, we pulled off into what looked like a campground to drive up and into the Kennett River park. Here, we had heard, was where to find koalas (and wallabies!)

There were quite a few roads going off in a variety of directions. Turns out, the road we wanted was Grey River Road - a gravel path that winds up into the forest. Finding the signpost directing our way, we now were going to see those koalas!

The first koala was tucked into a fork in the trees. Because the trees were so close, I was getting a neckache from staring upward - so I leaned my chair all the way back so I could look at the treetops while Mark drove slow.

The next koala ran across the road! Then a wallaby just stared at us from the green hillside that turned into trees. We ended up seeing five koalas and three wallabies - a great haul! We had passed some people hiking the trail/road, which made me a bit guilty at our laziness. However, with only a few days, sometimes the hours are precious.

Giddy from the real Australian wildlife (oh, I didn't mention the white cockatiels also majestically sitting in branches), we continued going east. We had pizza and garlic bread from the night before, so that satisfied us for a bit as we went to hike to Sheoak Falls.

With the parking lot at an inward bend in the road, we hiked up a river bed. It started as boardwalk and stairs - we were against a hill, so I suppose it makes sense that the trail went up, then down, then up again. Inset in the rock were single-person caves - seemed like an ancient place (except for the easy wooden trail.)

At the end of the trail was water falling over a dark, slate-like rock. I don't remember the water temperature clearly, but I think it wasn't gasping cold when we dipped our hands in. We poked around a couple of the trails to see a few different angles of Sheoak Falls before heading back.

We stopped at Lorne, and at that point I learned that the white cockatiels that impressed me so much at Kennett River were a dime a dozen. We stopped in a wine shop briefly to taste, had some burgers at Bottle of Milk (and had to have a shake!), then walked into the park by Lorne Beach to see some locals with their dogs.

After an hour or two enjoying Lorne, we drove along to Erskine Falls. It was steps down to the lookout, and I got to "bag" my second waterfall of the day.

With that, it was time to drive. Again, because I had essentially booked us hotels a little farther along the road than we actually got each day, we started the nearly three-hour drive along the Great Ocean Road. We pulled off a few times to capture the views (and let Mark soak it in, since he was driving.) Though we saved time tomorrow for the Twelve Apostles, we also got there at sunset, so couldn't help taking a few pictures.

We got to Warrnambool early enough to walk around the park as the sun was setting (a park that included quite a few water features, as well as some geese). We both tried the terrifying zipline that seemed a bit too much for a children's park - even though I was turning 30 the next day, still young enough for fun!

Speaking of, it was time to check in to my birthday treat - Deep Blue Hotel & Spa in Warrnambool.

We had just enough time at check-in to spend time at the spring. The highly mineral water was captured in a pool. It was opaque, so we felt our way around the 4 ft pool to find chairs and benches that were under water. After soaking for a bit and getting too warm, we jumped into the "chill pool" - cold fresh water - then back to the mineral bath.

An hour or so of that (also, because we got in about an hour before they closed), and we went back upstairs to order from room service. I had a sweet potato gnocchi that was so good, especially with the bottle of Tatalia Australian wine! I (re)introduced Mark to "Jukebox the Ghost", a band I've enjoyed for a few years, then we went to bed, cozy and nourished.

Sydney and Melbourne - Sept 3

We stayed in the cheap airport hotel, because the morning of Sept. 3, it was a flight to Melbourne. We rented our car, and, boy, was it unnerving to sit on the left without a steering wheel and brakes!

When Alisa and I hiked Kilimanjaro in 2013, we had been joined by three Australians - one of which I was still friends with on Facebook! So Mark got to meet Stuart, and we both met his wife Andrea for the first time, when we got to the parking lot near Queen Victoria Market. I can't remember if it was expense or why, but we decided to have Stuart, an experienced Australian driver, move it a few blocks for two-hour street parking.

Hungry, we started with food - found a random Italian restaurant on pedestrian street, where we were sure to enjoy some wine with our pastas.

Refreshed, we walked to the Yarra River, passing the station where you can “meet under the clocks” - Flinders Street Station. After our trek, while it wasn't like climbing Kili, it was enough distance that it made sense to take the tram.

Within the city center, it's free, but take it one stop too far, and a policeman might stop you and ask to see your tram cards. I wasn't sure if having an American accent was better or worse for us, but Andrea ended up doing all the talking, and we left with nothing more than a warning.

So, we were back near Victoria Market, where we had parked... but no one could find the car! It took us all starting at the first parking lot, counting roundabouts, then frantically clicking the honk button on the car before we found it, I'm sure right where we had left it. For the second time in a day, we didn't get a ticket, despite being just outside the boundaries of the law (this time, by being 20 minutes late.)

It was disappointing to hit traffic at 2pm, but we motored through it to get to Geelong, then we found the Great Ocean Road. And, the first of the tourist traps, probably. I had looked up quite a few places we could stop, and I knew that the Great Ocean Road Chocolaterie had a 4pm tasting - we snuck in at 4:07.

Apparently, it's not as important to start at the beginning with chocolate, as it is with wine, so the host started serving us the tasters once we walked in, along with the family of six that was already there. We learned the basics of the cacao plant, white chocolate, etc., but really we just kept chatting her up in case she'd give us more chocoloate.

Well, that and we learned she had a vet degree and helped out wildlife! I had mentioned that we had seen signs with a phone number saying "if you see injured wildlife, call" - apparently, the number went to her teacher.

Just before the shop closed at 5, I got strawberry and dark chocolate gelato, which would keep us going until after sunset (and, little did we know, quite a bit past sunset.)

Now, we were really on a road that was built by veterans after WWI. There were sharp cliffs dropped right at my left side - and if it wasn't a cliff, it was a wall of rocks! Since looking around the car was anxiety-inducing, it was best to look out the front windshield, where the gorgeous ocean had carved inlets and met up with streams and rivers.

It was all new, so we took it in at a variety of pull-offs before making it to Split Point Lighthouse for sunset.

A few red bellied green parrots joined us in the lighthouse at the end of a residential street, which made it less surprising when we were walked back to our car by by a dog with a toy in his mouth.

When there was an arch over the road, naming it as the Great Ocean Road, we learned the piece I already said - the road built by WWI soldiers returning - but this was apparently the third sign to say so. It had previously been a toll road, but we sailed by.

The evening started turning into night - we were hungry and tired, but made it the extra hour thanks to Mark (at night, on the wrong side of the road, with a cliff on the other side), to get to Apollo Bay Hotel. While it was a restaurant and motel, we decided to go the next block or two over to the better rated (and more lively sounding) Great Ocean Road Brewhouse. For dinner, I couldn't resist - I had kangaroo hot pot. Mark had Chicken Parma, Mexican style. With a few local brews and a local cider for me, we didn't need any encouragement to sleep well in our Australian motel.

Hanauma Bay, HI and jetlag - Sept. 1-2

Saturday 1 to Sunday 2 - Hawaii

I landed in Hawaii at 5:15am Hawaiian time (which maybe was a few hours later in Vegas? It was hard to tell.) I rented a car for the brief morning excursion - there was a highly regarded snorkel spot just 30 minutes from the airport, and it opened at 6am!

It was just barely starting to get light as I started driving, but the highway was mostly a highway. When I got to the stoplights before Hanauma Bay - and the cyclists, runners, and surfboards on cars - it started to feel like a different place. I stopped at a lookout just before the entrance to take in the city side, and the hill I was on.

I had expected it to be packed (all the reviews said it would be), so when I didn't pay for parking (the arm was just up!) and got a spot right near the entrance, I was a bit confused. But, I got out my snorkel gear (after having my bathing suit on from the plane) and headed instead.

But wait! Wildlife! These marmot things started scrambling out of the trash cans along the lookout over the gorgeous, wildly picturesque bay. I stopped back by the car to get my phone and take some pictures of both the small mongoose and the view.

On my way in, two workers/volunteers explained that the ticket booth wasn't open until 7am - at 6:40am, I could get in for free! I also didn't get the intro video required later in the day - instead, they told me not to step on coral and to use sunscreen that doesn't kill coral. Done and (kinda) done (because I just didn't use sunscreen that morning...)

Saved myself the $1 of parking and the $7.50 entrance fee!

After getting down to the beach, I grabbed my snorkel and mask and hopped in. It was chilly with the sun low and darting between clouds. I saw some fishes, a few small coral, but mostly a lot of large rocks. Maybe I was in the wrong place? I swam back to shore.

The shore was just as cold as the water, so I hopped back in, shivering. Nope, still not much, so I decided that a nice walk along the beach would get my heartrate (and thus my temperature) up a bit.

At the far end of the bay, someone was pointing at something - and it moved! It was a large monk seal, about fifteen feet up the beach, just hanging out for a snooze. Two beachgoers went past it and paid it no mind. Two others came out from further along the water and I pointed it out to them. (Also, they were Australian, so I said I was headed there later that day.) It took quite a few points to get the guy of the pair to see it; a still seal is pretty rock-like.

Shortly thereafter, a volunteer marched over and let us know to remain a good distance away, and he asked us to tell others to stay away as well. I enjoyed being a de facto ranger, but I mostly enjoyed that I'd explain there was a seal to people, and, if it wasn't moving, it looked exactly like a rock and no one would see it.

After spending a good 30 minutes watching this seal do nothing, I felt like maybe a brisk walk down the beach, and I could steel myself for another dunk in the water. So I did. And I saw some other fishes. And a little coral, some fans, some urchins. And got a bit nervous from the waves and how close I was to the rocks we weren't supposed to touch, the lack of a partner, and the chilliness, so back I went to the beach.

With another bit of sunshine, I was finally understanding the draw of the place, just in time to get back to the airport. I had (wrongly) assumed the showers were inside the bathrooms, and thus I would be able to completely change, but instead, I got a rinse outside, then toweled off and changed (and still was shaking out sand) in the bathrooms.

One march up the steep hill, back to the car, out of the parking lot that they were already turning people away from, and a picture of the same horizon on the way in - this time, with sun!

Back at the Honolulu airport, I walked through the outdoor Japanese garden to get to one of the lounges, to hopefully steal a bite to eat and a more comfortable chair (and I had time, because this was the real international flight, and I didn't want to miss it.)

The garden space was lovely, but the lounge was crowded, so I just got to wander back the way I came. A much less picturesque walk along a concrete walkway where I ate sweet rolls and chocolate.

The flight to Melbourne had extra seats! What luxury! I zoned out and and watched The Post, Book Club, Ready Player One, and Love, Simon. Had a little chicken dinner to fill the cracks between the sweet rolls (and stolen chocolate), but didn't touch the weird lunch (?) sandwich when it came fused in its wrapper.

When the plane landed, I got on the Wi-Fi and got ahold of Mark. He told me what transport company he used, and I bought my ticket, waited with a gaggle of others, then missed my stop. I had mistook “Ibis Sydney Airport” for “Ibis Budget Sydney Airport”, so after twenty minutes of waiting, ten minutes of loading the car, ten minutes to a few different hotels, I realized it and they very kindly circled around for me. 

Mark had told me what room number, so I marched up and hopped into the shower... where I found more Hawaiian sand. Sorry customs!

Since it was my birthday, he had candles and a small nip of wine waiting for me. And, also since I hadn't slept for some amount of hours, we fell asleep exhausted by 10pm.

Vegas - Aug. 31

We started our Friday in Vegas at the Venetian as many do (apparently) - a little morning at the gym. I used some knowledge from my personal trainer to build a workout (including a whole host of equipment), but then Alisa and I just hung out and stretched in the sitting area of our room when we interrupted the cleaning staff.

It was my job, as Alisa showered, to pick where we were going to brunch. Given that it was a Friday, we had slightly fewer options, but Giada's, at the Cromwell Hotel, did a Friday brunch with mimosas. (And the menu looked good too.)

We took a taxi there - only four blocks away, but the blocks are deceptively long in Vegas, and we were hungry! (Not optimal, because we had to take two lefts to get there, but our feet didn't hurt at all!)

We waited a few minutes in their small foyer with Giada's books on display (she's a Food Network star, known for her Italian). We got a flatbread pizza (and mimosas) and a savory and a sweet dish to split... and then I saw the "build your own brownie" and got a second dessert.

While we were enjoying our meal, we happened to overhear our neighbors talking about their day(s) in Vegas, and we started engaging them to hear their stories. They were on their regular anniversary trip, taking in the food and the sights (and not a lot of gambling). Yes, they were enjoying the food as much as we were. No, they were probably not enjoying as many mimosas as we were, but they were very kind to walk with us partially back to the Venetian - unknown if it was because they were enjoying our company or betting if we could even make it back.

We got back to our 17th floor (or so) room and passed out. We slept (purposefully) through dinner reservations, but we did get up slightly before needing to get to the Bellagio for our show. I tried to put everything I needed in Australia in my checked bag, and everything I needed for Hawaii in my shoulder bag. Punchdrunk from a nap and still with champagne in my system, we headed to "O".

Alisa got us amazing seats - the folds of the curtain all the way to the expressions of the acrobats as they tumbled through the air, plunging into the watery stage. The "borks" of the clown and his love story; the ghoulish cast that followed the spindly legged emcee; the strong men and women that climbed and swung and dove and disappeared underwater and made me think about stage construction and magic while chowing down on popcorn - it was a great, great show.

And, again, we were fooled by what looked like a short walk to get back to our hotel. We flowed along with the mob, up and down escalators over the streets below. The half mile took forty-five minutes at our barely strolling pace.

Thankfully, I had packed, because we ran up to the room, I grabbed my stuff, hugged Alisa, and hopped in a cab to the airport.

With about 90 minutes before my flight, I was at the counter, ready to check my bags, when the attendant asked me about a visa. Embarassingly, I had done no research as to how to actually get into Australia's borders. Though the flight was through Hawaii (so I had another few hours to obtain a visa, in my book), they wanted one before I got my ticket.

Thankfully, they knew the web address where I could apply for one and (usually) get it nearly instantaneous. "Be careful," they cautioned, "and make sure you double-check your passport number and other details." So I meticulously used my phone to type out all my details. Seconds passed, and I got a confirmation email.

Minutes passed, and the airline workers couldn't see my visa. We waited and refreshed a couple times. On the fourth look, they finally realized they had put in my passport number incorrectly! One digit later, my bag was checked and I was able to pass right on through security.

I don't remember if I had time to get to the lounge and grab a snack, but I was on the plane and off to Hawaii and that's what mattered.

Grand Canyon brunch, Lake Powell, and Valley of Fire before Vegas - Aug. 30

We had until 11am on Thursday to check out, so we started with a bit of a walk before a planned brunch just before (or just after) check out. 

When we had seen the Bright Angel Trail from the viewpoints along the rim, we saw a tunnel drilled into a rock not too far down the trail. According to the sign when we got there, the Upper Bridge was .2 miles down the canyon. We could handle that!

We walked down, posed, posed, walked up to a bench, sat and looked out at the canyon, then headed to the photography exhibit of two brothers that put the Grand Canyon on the map. 

It had the portable boat they’d bring down, some of the footage they shot, and the camera and projector they used in the early days of the canyon. They also helped collect the toll for the trail down the canyon, before the Park Service took that over. Their house was just hanging off the edge of the canyon!

The Grand Canyon Village in general was built before the Park Service came in, by entrepreneurs trying to coax the rail in. 

We headed back to El Tovar for breakfast. I had this southwestern mix of foods on a crispy tortilla, but the cinnamon roll was definitely my favorite. 

The breakfast was creeping into our checkout time. We had already put our big suitcases in the car, but I went up to grab our smaller suitcases. When we loaded them into the car to head out, the tire pressure light was on. 

I knew there was a repair shop at the Village - Alisa hopped out and none of the tires was noticeably flat, so we decided to wait until the gas station just outside the south entrance to the park. 

The tires on the car were different from the pressures listed inside the door, so we filled it up, but not enough for the light to go off. Oh well, we were returning the car that night. Just had to get it back to Vegas. 

Our return trip had us crossing a bridge over the Hoover Dam. We stopped for a photo on one side, but the 100-degree heat stopped us from walking to the visitors center. Instead, we decided to take the walk along the bridge overlooking it. 

The heat didn’t play a factor once we got near the bridge because the crazy wind was extremely cooling - and pretty disorienting for me. I don’t like it when wind and height mix. So we got a third of the way along the long bridge, with me clinging to my phone, sunglasses, and hat, and I decided to kneel down for a peek over the edge. That was good enough for me!

We had a few hours yet before we had to drop off the car (since we had picked it up at 11pm), so we looked along the route for things to do. I remember enjoying the Valley of Fire when I was here five or so years ago, so we added that to the directions. 

It just so happened that the most direct route was through Lake Powell recreational area - which meant I got to use my National Parks Pass again!

I really wanted to see the desert foxes that were on a sign when we turned off for pictures, but we just saw a lot of patches of grass on dry, dry ground and a lot of speeding cars.

The Valley of Fire was a state park, but we didn’t have cash in the right amounts to leave it in the cash box, since we were after hours. We couldn’t find the credit card machine at the locked up visitors center, so we just risked it. As we were driving around, we found a herd of mountain sheep! They were grazing and chilling, and I was so excited. We drove past them like three times as we were trying to get the pass to the park sorted out. The final time, I nearly got us stuck in the red sand shoulder. It made sense why all of the signs said to not pull over. 

We backtracked, once we determined that we couldn’t pay, to the Seven Sisters. Alisa walked around the first one and was asked to leave by a couple that was doing a marriage ceremony. Cool, I guess, but it’s also a public park?

We took a bunch of pictures of our sweaty selves before continuing on the petroglyphs there. While we climbed up the metal staircase, Alisa spotted a hare. I scoured, but still couldn’t find a desert fox that might be stalking it. 

After a scenic drive along a gravel road, we headed out of the park and toward Vegas. The sun was setting as we entered the valley, and Air Force jets were doing maneuvers. 

The Venetian valet-parked our rental car as we got upstairs. Our bags hadn’t gotten there, but I was ready for a shower, and they had great plush robes. I got out in time to tip the busboy, change, then head to drop off the car. The mileage counter rolled over to 800 miles - 800 miles by me in three days!

It was shockingly seamless to drop it off, after grabbing gas. An Uber ride back, and I was ready for dinner. We had gotten Venetian coupon books on the plane, and one of the restaurants know for its “crazy shakes” had a free shake with purchase. Alisa had only brought down one coupon, thinking we’d share it... I went back upstairs to grab mine. We had to sign up for the Venetian rewards club, but between the shake and free $25 gambling, it was worth it. 

I got the cookie-inspired shake, which included an entire ice cream sandwich in it. Alisa got the peanut butter one, which was dripping with M&Ms. 

So, feeling gross and full, we decided to go gamble. Alisa was ready for her slots. I had chosen table games, so I spent some time reading up on craps while she turned $25 of fake money into $60 of real money by gambling $5 at a time and quitting when she was ahead. 

We got to the craps table and I was ready with my cash and my voucher. Thankfully, because I had to bet the same as my voucher, my first bet passed and I got $50 back in chips. 

We stuck around for a free drink (mine was a terrible margarita), then I took my $60 in chips and turned it in. My $40 that I had put in plus the $25 from the casino - I didn’t break even if you count the fake money, but I really got $20 more dollars. 

And with that, it was midnight in Vegas, and it was bedtime. 

Grand Canyon National Park - Aug. 29

On Wednesday, we awoke past sunrise, so no canyon in the golden light. We could handle that for a good night’s sleep (finally).

We decided to eat the snacks and produce for breakfast before going out for both lunch and dinner. Having three meals out felt expensive and unnecessary. 

I wrote out the time and subject for all of the ranger talks for the day on our map. At 9am, not far away, was a fossil talk. Not a bad way to start the day! I was also very excited for a condor talk later in the day, and I immediately tried to ID all the turkey vultures as condors. 

The fossil talk met at the Bright Angel Trailhead. Having read all of Marguerite Henry’s books, I was familiar with the trail because of “Brighty of the Grand Canyon” - another reason I was also excited to see the mule paddocks at some point. 

Our ranger told us the lightning storms were bad and to take covers, and he was the first to teach us the “rule of thumb.” If you can’t fully cover up the animal you are looking at when you line it up with your thumb, fully extended, you are too close - for ground squirrels and for elk. 

We heard about the layers of the canyon, and that we were on old sea bed. He let us loose on some rock shelves with identification guides, and Alisa and I found shells and the burrows of tunneling creatures. Success! We could be paleontologists. 

I asked the ranger how to identify condors before we left for a walk along the canyon. Condors have white along the top of their wing, then black along their flight feathers. A turkey vulture is much smaller and has black underneath along the bone of their wing and white at the edge. 

Equipped with that knowledge, we started walking along the “Trail of Time.” We were walking uphill, yet each little trail marker had a later and later time period, in millions of years. What is crazy is that the canyon documents half of the world’s history - nearly three billion years!

We stopped at the first two lookouts along the “Red” bus line by walking before taking advantage of the bus. At roughly the third lookout, we climbed down a set of stairs to be along an outcropping, inside the canyon. What comes soaring beneath us but a condor!

My regret from this day is that we were close enough to read the numbers on its tag, but we didn’t write them down! I thought, afterwards, it was 27. Alisa thought it was 70-something. I did snap a picture though!

We continued along most of the stops of the tram. One stop was just three benches, and everyone else who jumped out immediately jumped back in the bus. Alisa and I got to enjoy the canyon alone for the ten minutes before the next bus. 

We hopscotched along the south rim of the canyon like this until reaching Hermit’s Rest just after noon. While we walked past other buildings by our lodge, the name Mary Colter had stood out as an architect whose stone-driven style I enjoyed. And here was another of her creations, emerging from the rock like it grew there. 

There was just a snack counter, no cafeteria to speak of, so we popped into the gift shop, hit the head, then took the tram ride back to the Bright Angel trailhead. In looking at the description of the restaurants in the Village, we liked the sounds of the Arizona Room. When we found it, attached to the Bright Angel Lodge, it was very different than the upscale description. The kitchen was exposed, like in a cafe, and the decor was kind of old and sad. The food wasn’t great, but the people watching along the canyon rim was fun. 

Fun fact - everything “Bright Angel” was named after a stream that the explorers had seen emerging from the side of the canyon... like a Bright Angel?

We hadn’t visited the official visitors center yet, and a tram stop right outside got us on the right line to ride there. I saw the mules in their pens from the bus and was satisfied. 

The bus driver told us that a twenty minute movie showed at the top and bottom of every hour. At 4:30, there was a geology talk, so I wanted to see if we could make that as well. So we risked it and sat down for a watch. There were grand vistas and a deep narrator, and I’m sure that when I was watching it, I learned and enjoyed it...

But, on to geology. We hopped on a bus and made it to the museum, where our geologist ranger was just hanging out. She walked us 400 yards down the canyon, and we sat at an amphitheater and talked about the swampy layer and the shallow ocean layer and the creatures that have been discovered in each. We walked back to the geology museum for a quick look around. 

With that learning done, it was time to walk back to the visitor’s center. The overlooks on the canyon in the late afternoon light were stunning, so we got very distracted taking pictures. Before I realized it, we were going to be late for the condor talk back at the Village!

We got back, hopped on a bus, and it just so happened that that bus passed an elk and her calf! More great wildlife!

That made up for the fact that we were fifteen minutes late to the talk, but there was still 45 minutes of answering questions and story-telling. The ranger had a book from the library about condors and their captive breeding program and reintroduction. Passages about watching a young condor plunge from the nest and just barely recover to prevent a crash landing. About the first egg in captivity. And about seeing them back in the wild. 

Afterward, we told her that we’d seen a tagged bird, and she showed us the sheet with the numbers. There was no number 27! We guessed at another number (23? 73?) and I just took a picture of the whole sheet. Opportunity lost. 

We hung out on the rim outside El Tovar for sunset, which wasn’t as spectacular as the day before (and we missed out on multi-tasking with happy hour at the same time). Alisa went off to buy a puzzle, and I went back for a change and a phone charge before our dinner reservation. 

The dining room was old wood and antler chandeliers. It was gorgeous, and a bottle of red wine was definitely on the table - literally?

Just after we ordered, a critter started running around the beams. It was like a red panda! I forget the name of the creature, but apparently three of them live in the attic and pop out for dinner service to ask for people to share. They get shooed back up along the rafters. 

We had salads and shared a super good cheese plate, because on the way in was the table of desserts. 

I was so torn on which dessert I wanted, but settled on the flourless chocolate cake. I nearly gave up - it was so rich and delicious.

It was our final night in that one bed - again, fat and happy so, thankfully again, slept well and didn’t disturb each other.