I made it! I'm alive! (Parachuting, Part 1.5)

Spoiler Alert: I didn't fall to my death when I went skydiving.

I did fall though. Very, very far and very, very fast. And then I flew.
It was incredible.

I'm currently working on writing about my experience; I need to write an article for my internship, a "travel tale" for one of my writing classes, and a post for this blog.

So it seems like I could just kill three magpies with one stone and write one article about skydiving for all three platforms... right? 

Well it turns out my audience, guidelines and goal for each article is vastly different. (i.e. marketing to tourists for the internship, fulfilling a minimum word requirement for my professor, and being at least a little bit entertaining to blog-readers). So I'll probably end up writing three separate ones. Bummer.

I figured for the time being though (since I imagine my own blog is the one place where the boss won't be too strict about deadlines, so it might be a while before I post anything else on here) it would be nice to provide a bit of an update.

I am alive, and skydiving was a blast.

Unfortunately none of the pictures really came out well, except about 50 crystal-clear selfies of my tandem instructor, but this one is pretty neat.

Happy Halloween! 

"The Race that Stops a Nation" (from going to work)

Everyone told me that Melbourne Cup Day was a big deal; it's sometimes known as "The Race that Stops a Nation." 

On day of the Melbourne cup, the men wear suits, the ladies wear hats, most people place a bet, and everyone watches the race. At least that's what I heard. 

"They've made it a national holiday in Victoria" I was informed every time it came up in conversation with an Australian. 

In fact, I was told this nearly as many times—and with the same tone—as I have been told that Australia is much bigger than I probably think. ("You know, it's the same size as the United States").  

Anyway, I imagine to be in Melbourne on the day of this famous horse race would be pretty intense, but in Sydney it just kinda felt like a Tuesday. 

I suppose there were a few extra people in the streets that day —and maybe they all looked a bit tipsier than they might normally look on a Tuesday morning at 11am. Perhaps they also happened to be wearing more flamboyant feathered hats than they might have worn on any other workday. Nothing too crazy though. 

What I really found out about Melbourne Cup Day though, both from my own observations and from talking to people, is that it is a brilliant excuse to skip work for the day—which my colleagues and I took full advantage of on an afternoon cruise on Sydney Harbour. 

Aside from beautiful views of the harbour, there were drinks, a fashion contest, big screens to watch the race, and a fancy seafood lunch buffet (which I of course managed to spill all over my dress). 

(Which my supervisor decided to tweet about...)

By the time the race began, it all seemed a little anti-climatic; the room fell silent and we watched the little horses and their jockeys race across the screen for a couple seconds. Then everybody immediately got back to enjoying themselves on the cruise. 

Maybe I only feel this way because I didn't place a bet; I suppose if I had just won (or lost) some large sum of money, I may have found the whole thing a little more exciting...

The way I see it though, I was lucky enough just to be treated to a nice afternoon out of the office!

I guess I'm going to go Skydiving tomorrow? (Parachuting, Part One)

Tomorrow afternoon, if all goes according to plan, I will be voluntarily jumping out of a plane and plummeting back to the earth at roughly 115 mph. Tandem, of course.

I only know I will be falling at about 115 mph, because I just googled "speed of skydiver." I actually know nothing about skydiving except that I've always thought it would be a pretty cool thing to try—and that I  imagine it being a little like this:

Perhaps more concerning than my lack of knowledge about skydiving in general though, is my lack of knowledge about the skydiving company out of whose plane I will be voluntarily jumping—and whose parachute will be (ideally) catching me as I plummet back to earth...


I do know a couple things:

1. They are called "Sydney Skydivers," and this is their logo.

I don't know. Maybe it's the color choices; maybe it's the creepily disproportionate, faceless mannequin; maybe it's the promise of the "best price guarantee"; or maybe it's the fact that there is no PARACHUTE attached to this skydiver's back. (Although I see he is equipped with flippers?)

All I know is that something about this logo is kind of unsettling... isn't it?

Anyway, I'm sure it's a reputable company with experienced instructors and top quality equipment—I just hope the graphic designer is not also the dude who packed my parachute.


2. I was recently informed that Sydney Skydivers was in-fact Kesha's skydive company of choice when she visited Sydney. I suppose it should be reassuring to know that someone with that amount of money and resources would choose this particular company among the many diving options in Sydney.

However she also allegedly chooses to brush her teeth with whiskey and is the author of a this song:

No but seriously, there's no reason to be scared. Really.
Apparently Sydney Skydivers has done over 2 million dives—which means, according to official skydiving statistics, that they only could have killed like 35 people, maximum. No worries at all! 

 ;) 

...But seriously, in all the upmost serious seriousness—I'm really excited. If you read my other post about my internship, you know that I think this is a really fantastic opportunity; I don't know if I would have the guts or the funds to go through with a lot of these activities if I wasn't working for The WORD Australia. I think I'm just being a bit cheeky about all this because I'm kind of nervous. And I don't want to admit it.

I'm sure by "Parachuting, Part Two" I'll be raving about the experience!

Until next time!
(If there is a next time)

 <3 Erin 

Episode 3: The Birds Strike Back

Before I left for Sydney, a lot of Americans warned me about all the poisonous animals in Australia that will surely try to kill me or eat me—or at least cause me so much paralyzing agony that I might just die from the shock.

I think a lot of this hype comes from what we all learned about Australia from Steve Irwin, but I suppose my friends are probably right to warn me about the notoriously deadly fauna of this continent... 

What with sharks and crocodiles that could crush a Harley in a bite, a light-up octopus that causes respiratory and heart failure if you touch it, plenty of venomous snakes and spiders, a tiny invisible jellyfish that can kill you in minutes, and a fish with a sting that puts you in so much blinding excruciating pain that you just... die, I don't think the mythology of all the gnarly critters in Australia told around world is entirely unfounded. Even the sun is deadlier here.

What none of these self-dubbed Australian wildlife experts warned me about, however, is the birds.

That's right, the birds.

It all started on my first day in the city when a menacing looking machete-beaked monster stole my macaron. Now I am certain that the birds of Sydney are conspiring against me.

Just a day after the macaron incident, I decided to go for a little jog in my new neighborhood. As I walked out the door and down the front steps to the street, the birds were singing a loud and cheerful chorus. I put in my earbuds, thinking what a pleasant morning it was, and began to run. 

I turned down an empty residential street. Not a single person was out and about that morning, but it was still a bit early. Reaching a dead end, I looped around and headed back down that street in the opposite direction. 

Then, not even three minutes into my run, a silent shadow zoomed by my head. Startled, I took out my head phones and began searching around for the source of the shadow. 

I spun around just in time to see a sleek, black and white demonbird diving straight for my face. 

It looked exactly like this. 

Horrifying, right?

The demonbird, I later learned, is actually an Australian Magpie. Males are quite territorial this time of year, and apparently are known in Australia for divebombing potential baby-bird-snatchers like myself as they enjoy pleasant morning jogs along the street... 

Anyway, the demonbird dove, and I ducked. 

Standing up, with a little extra adrenaline pumping through my body but otherwise amused, I looked around. The bird had crossed the street and was watching me from an electrical wire on the other side... 

I laughed to myself and took a breath.

 The bird dove again. 

I threw my hands over my head, ducked, and dodged my assailant once more. I began to sprint fast up the street, still not sure if this whole thing was funny or terrifying. As I ran, I turned my head over my shoulder just in time to see the red-eyed thing a foot from my face again. I dropped down and saw the bird land silently on the branch of a eucalyptus tree on the other side of the street.

It went on like that all down the road. I sprinted fast, feeling completely ridiculous as I ducked and zig-zagged back and forth across the street to dodge these repeated, increasingly frequent aerial assaults.

Eventually, I must have left the kamikaze magpie's territory, because the attacks stopped. I immediately found some steps to sit on and caught my breath. The birds taunted me with their cheerful songs in the trees as I walked, feeling a bit defeated, back into my house.  

This isn't totally a laughing matter.. Australian magpies can actually be pretty vicious (clearly) and have been known to cause cyclists and pedestrians serious injuries. I take what precautions I can to avoid getting my eyes pecked out or something. I haven't resorted to this yet though:

But the day may come.

I've never been afraid of birds, and I plan to keep it that way. Still, ever since demonbird day, I find myself glancing in the trees as I walk and flinching at shadows passing overhead...

Every once in a while, as I walk to work in the morning, I'll feel talons clip the top of my head or a winged phantom glide by my neck—and I know its the demonbird. Even on the stillest mornings I can feel his beady little eyes watching me. 

This may not be my dream job...

...but it very well may be my dream 3-month-internship in Australia!

I'm interning at a company that creates a quarterly guide for travelers, backpackers, and tourists in Sydney. The main publication includes advertisements for attractions and tours around Sydney, a number of feature articles about things to do and see, as well as practical information about traveling around the city and the rest of Australia. 

My role in the company isn't really set yet; so far I've done a lot of website maintenance, and in the near future I may be doing a market research study on the use of print media vs. digital media among travelers in Australia... 

That's all great, and I'm looking forward to the experience, but what really makes this an ideal internship? 

I have been given the opportunity to actually go do some of the activities advertised in the guide and then write feature articles or blogs about my experience—which will hopefully be published.

That means I get free vouchers to do things like surf for three days at an all-expenses-paid camp, go abseiling in the Blue Mountains, skydive in Sydney, and who knows what else. Then, I get to write about it—which I would do anyway. This is my job. What? 

I'm on a tight budget here in Australia, so I don't think that I would have been able to do any of these activities if not given the opportunity to do them for my internship. 

I feel so blessed and lucky, not to mention stoked to learn to surf, repel down a cliff or two, and jump out of a plane. Among other things. 

I'll be sure to include posts about all of these adventures on my blog as they happen. For today though, I'm going to go check out the festivities in Sydney for the International Fleet Review. 

Above is a picture of Alyssa (the other intern) and me after our first assignment—whale watching. 

That's all for now :)