To row or not to row?

I revel in individual sports. Mostly running. I like it because I can do it alone, and I like to do it alone. Yes, I did play team sports in high school and an adult women's soccer league. Back in South Carolina, I did join a couple running relays, but that was only 32 hours of team running (insert shout out to team Howie-licious this weekend!) 

Then my friend Mary convinced me to run with a running group every once in a while. This was a big step for me. It involved running not alone. And I didn’t mind it, though mostly I only talked and ran with Mary (and her friends because unlike me, she is a social person). It was a good way to meet people with things in common who are also obsessed with running and don’t mind talking about chaffing and the upcoming racing calendar. So upon moving to Perth, I considered (though never got to the point of actively pursuing), joining some type of running group. Leon introduced me as a “triathlete”, so I had a few offers to join triathlon clubs. But in my head, all Aussie athletes are mini-Craig Alexander Ironman champions, so needless to say I was a bit intimidated (not to mention the whole anti-social runner thing).

When I moved here, I decided this was my opportunity to try new things. Snorkel with manta rays, roast kangaroo on a campfire under the Southern Cross, and drive a ute across the outback. While I’m still working on some (or all) of these things, I have tried to say “yes” to new opportunities that present themselves and to search for new things to try.

One of these new endeavors has been rowing. Cycling and running along the Swan river in the early morning, I could see the rowers gliding across the water, and figured that if I was ever going to learn to row, this was my opportunity, living in the land of eternal summer sunshine and being in a location where I’m able to see the river (and almost the boatshed) from my bedroom window. Fortunately for me, with only a little research necessary, I found that the West Australian Rowing Club, Perth's oldest rowing club, has a Learn 2 Row program for newbies (aka me).

 

 

The deck from the balcony.

Now the most important thing that I have learned about rowing is that it starts EARLY. I guess I always knew this, but had never given it much previous thought. While I enjoyed the summer sunrises, it is now dark for the first half of our sessions, and is only going to get worse.

 The boat shed at dawn.

 

 Can't beat these sunrises on a quiet river.

For five sessions we met our fearless coach Jimmy at 5am. Several mornings we arrived only to be greeted by a white-capped swan river, and because we have no idea what to do with an oar (let alone what “stoke side” “check” “backing” or “tapping” is), we stuck to the ergos (rowing machines) indoors.  But we did get on the water. Coming from a completely individual sport (running), I must say it started out frustrating being part of the crew, where you are completely dependent on the rowers behind you and in front of you. If the person in front can’t row at a steady rhythm, too bad, you have to follow them. It the rower behind you can’t, too bad, you end up with an oar in the back. Not to mention the need all work together to balance the boat (which we still haven’t figured out).

After Learn 2 Row, we moved on to the Development Squad. 

 

John, John, and John (aka BJ: Big John, LJ: Little John, and OJ: Other John) of Dev Squad washing down the boat.

  

There were about 12 of us who came from various Learn 2 Row sessions under the wise expertise of Coach Debbie. Mondays and Thursdays we rocked up (like that Kyla?!) to the boatshed to learn which of the 13 parts of a stroke we were doing wrong today (usually all of them). She even started a chart for us to track our progress.

And the Westies rowers are great. Quite a social, thirsty bunch. Peope have their bad days, but what can you expect at 5 in the morning?

My Learn 2 Row crew NOT at 5 am.

I must say I have learned a WHOLE lot and grown to appreciate anyone who calls themselves a rower. I have calluses and blisters. We’ve seen beautiful sunrises, lightning bolts, rainbows, and dolphins (once all in the same morning!). My “last” session of summer rowing was today. The competitive season starts April 1^st, as we head into the winter of potentially dark, cold mornings. Now it’s time to decide if I want to join for the year and race. I’m not sure yet. Am I ready to call myself a rower? 

What do you think?

Because water like this is made for rowing...

Sculpture by the Sea

 

This blog entry is more show than tell. Sculpture by the Sea is an annual event that started in Sydney in 1997 and came to Cottesloe beach starting in 2005 as a way to make sculpture more accessible to the public. I stopped by on my Saturday morning bike ride for the cultural experience. Here is a taste of some of the 74 sculptures.

 

 

The one on the left, entitled Like a Flower Swaying in the Wind, took the $50,000 sculpture prize.

This giant goon bag was the talk of the town. (A goon bag is the bag that comes in a cheap boz\x of wine). If you like it ,you can purchase it for $20,000.

This was the most disturbing to me, a wave of barbie dolls. Creepy.

My favorites were probably some of the least modern.

 

When I have a house some day, maybe I'll put a cycling skeleton on my front lawn...

Erin Go Bragh

According to Wikipedia, there are 479,174 Australians in Perth and 115,384 Irish (not to mention the English winning it all with 534,555). Even if it isn't celebrated quite as big as in the US or in Ireland, I knew that if I looked hard enough, I'd be able to find a little luck o' the Irish.

 

Yes, not only did Kelly sort the Skittles for her pot of gold, but she made green ice!

 

It's no secret, that I am impartial to the wearing of the green. March 17th conjures up memories of step dancing in nursing homes, churches, schools and pubs. I can't smell corned beef and cabbage without thinking of curlers and the church dinners at St Patricks in Mystic, Norwich and New London. Gone are the days of the Dukes Reel, High Cauled Cap, and the Blackbird in my black leotard or white, green and orange pleated dress, but I still always do my best to recognize the rellies back in Wicklow. 

 

When St. Patrick's Day falls on a weekday, the only solution is to extend the holiday to the nearest weekend. Green shamrocks covered Kathryn's house in Scarborough for a St. Patty's day bbq.

We had appropriately themed competitions. First was an Ireland themed quiz, put on by our Irish host. I may or may not have won that one. To be fair, I did take a class in Irish folklore, history and music when I studied in Limerick. I was surprised at how it all came back to me. The second competition was Baby Guinness pouring. A baby Guinness is Kahlua and Baileys in a shot glass, poured in layers so that it looks just like a, you guessed it, miniature Guinness. We divided into teams for an international tournament: Australians, Europeans, Americans. It was a tough competition, with lots of impressive trash talking. Ashley represented us well in the Grand Final, but alas, the Aussies took it all. Oh well, after all they have to start redeeming themselves from the less than spectacular Olympic performance.We can let em win one :)

 Perfection.

 

Everyone was jealous of my "stubby holder". Thanks Meggy!!!

But even if we celebrated during the weekend, we couldn't let the 17th go by without a raise of the glass and a couple shamrocks. I showed up to the primary school we're doing a research project at in my shamrock knee socks and green nail polish to be surrounded by a see of 6 year olds dressed in green (The teachers had begged me to wear green for the occasion. Little did they know they didn't need to ask me twice). Green hair, green glitter eye shadow, and green tights. Well done Year 2! I continued to wear my festive socks in the office, where I received a few more giggles and much fewer people were dressed for the holiday (I think Kyla and Kagan were the only ones in green!)

But wherever you are, whether it be a pub in Dublin, a street in Five Points, or a tavern in Perth, the Guinness is smooth (yes Dad, I listened to you and had one or two) and the bad played Christy Moore.

 

And the leprechauns even found me in Australia. Even if their magical milk was in my Weetbix instead of Frosted Mini Wheats.

Slainte!

Gone Country

When I first looked at a Google Earth map of Perth, I noticed something odd. Go a few miles east of the city, and the city just stops. There appears to be a north to south line where civilization just decides to stop.

When I moved here, I realized what this mysterious line was, the Perth Hills. Technically, the hills are part of the Darling Scarp (whatever a scarp is), opposing the ocean on Perth's western side. Cyclists gong riding in the hills. Leon goes riding in the hills. I have gone riding to the hills (after getting lost of course) and have not yet ridden up into the hills, but one day soon. But when I see the sun rise over the hills form the city in the morning, and see the few lights twinkling as daylight fades, the hills hold a bit of serene mystery. On a beautiful "autumn" (aka still summer) day, I had the chance to spend a day gone country in the hills.

Perth doesn't get rain in the summer, I found where the water is kept: Mundaring Weir. Lake C.Y. O'Connor is named after the engineer who conceived of the Golden Pipeline project to get water from here to the Kalgoorlie gold mines.

 The most "touristy" part of this area is the Mundaring Weir hotel.

 

They hold concerts, and the place can get packed. On a beautiful, sunny Saturday, it was serene place to sit and have a beer in the sunshine. I may need to come back on a Sunday for the lamb spit.

Now my adventure into the hills was not just to see the sights. The reason for my venture was to experience country music, Australian style. I lived in South Carolina for five years and hearing country music and country bands every weekend became the norm. As you probably can guess, country music does not fit in with the doof doof scene of Perth. And as you can imagine I am still in search of my Tin Roof and Saloon equivalents.

I used to think that Keith Urban was an Australian who wanted to be an American country singer. Turns out Australia does have it's own country music! Troy Cassar-Daley and Adam Harvey are legit country stars. And they are on tour promoting their duo album, The Great Country Songbook. It's covers of some of the greatest classic country songs of Johnny Cash, Kenny Rogers, and Slim Dusty( the father of Australian country music).

 

Australia has it's own country music awards. The Great Country Songbook was nominated for one of them. But after criticism for not being Australian enough (after all, it is a bunch of covers of old American songs), they withdrew from the running. How's that for morals?

The concert was at a ranch hotel, El Caballo (pronounced by locals like el cabello not the proper double l spanish pronunciation). The dirt parking lot was full of utes and campers, and the average age was probably 60+.

Can you spot the wheelchair? There were a couple walkers too ;)

The opening act was Chelsea Basham, a "local" girl who won a Golden Guitar for her hit, "I make my own sunshine". She is a blonde, country pop princess who likes to yodel in her songs, but she sang a Sugarland song, so she knows what's up.

Then the boys took the stage and rocked it in their black suits like country superstars. Their fun loving Aussie humour colored their commentary and made for great entertainment. I felt right at home with Hey Good Lookin, Thank God I'm a Country Boy and Walk the Line. I must say Adam Harvey does a real good Johnny Cash.

Before I knew it, it was time to head back to the lights of the city. Slim Dusty's Lights on the Hill was still playing in my head as the headlights of the passing cars lit up the smile of a country girl at heart.

The windscreen wipers are a-beatin' in time
The song they sing is a part of my mind
And I can't believe it's a-really happenin' to me
...the lights comin' over the hill are a-blindin' me

It's all about the dancing

I wasn't quite sure what to expect of the silent disco. It's a remnant of the Fringe Festival that has been extended a few weeks. The concept is simple. You get a pair of headphones, there are 3 different channels to switch between (red, blue, green), with 3 Djs, and you DANCE. And you dance, dance, dance. Turns out it is a LOTof fun. And I have no idea why. Though I'm guessing it had something to do with the dancing.

 Kenny and Bea bustin a move

I'm not one who's afraid to dance. I'll dance anywhere, anytime, any music. I blame my work with preschoolers as taking away all my self-consciousness and giving me way too much confidence to dance "The Nordic Track" to I Like to Move It, Move It. I realize that some people are quite as "confident" with their dancing skills. Which makes the Silent Disco all the more bizarre.

The placement of this disco made it even more interesting. It was outdoors, next to the main walkway connecting Northbridge and the train station.

 Yup, those are random people walking by, having no real idea what we are doing.

While we were bopping away in what appeared to be "silence" hundreds of confused and bemused people walked by: stopping, pointing, staring, taking pictures, and yes, even laughing. One cute old lady and man stopped by and even started dancing. Notice: Apparently you get in trouble if you let a passerby wear the headphones.

My dance group was right on the fence in prime viewing for all on-lookers. And yet it didn't seem to phase us. It didn't infringe on our dancing at all. I still don't know why. Maybe it's because the headphones make you feel like you're in a cocoon, despite at least 30% of the people around you listening and dancing to the same thing. And it's just like a normal club/dance party where you're still dancing with other people, as opposed to dancing by yourself at home in front of the mirror. Or maybe just everyone who goes already has a high dance confidence (not that the majority were "good" dancers at all). And there were all types of people in age range and music tastes (as evidenced by the red, green, and blue selections of music).

 This little kid and his mom were some of my favorites :)

One of the best parts was the music they played. One of the few things I don't like about Perth is that all the bars and places to dance play doof doof music aka dance/techno. Some places start off teasing you with hiphop, pop, R&B, some good rock anthems, but come 10 o'clock, they bass is beating and the lights are flashing. While sometimes one of the stations was playing some doof doof, the others were playing tunes that almost made me feel like I was back in Red Hot Tomatoes, the Thirsty Turtle or Liberty Taproom on a Friday night. To sum it up:

With all the mining money in Perth, there are plenty of Golddiggers (Kayne West) hoping to Get Lucky (Daft Punk). Sometimes the doof doof here is too much and Y'all gonna make me lose my mind up in here (DMX-Party Up). Truth be told, I Wanna Dance with Somebody (Whitney Houston), but definitely No Scrubs (Destiny's Child). The 90's and 2000's r&b hits put me in a Empire State of Mind (Alicia Keys) like I was back at the YMCA (Village People). But if I'm on a boat (THe Lonely Island), to get home, it would be a long trip and easy to Lose Yourself (Eminem). It was like a Fantasy (Mariah Carey) on that dance floor, all lit up with Mr. Brightside (The Killers). All the Jump Around (House of Pain) sure did Wake me Up (Avicii) and make me Happy (Pharrell). We took our turns on the catwalk (Right Said Fred I'm too Sexy) with everyone watching. And really, I don't care, because I Love It (Icona Pop)! 

 PS. It's REALLY hard to remember the songs you danced to and I know I'm missing all the best ones!


But even with 3 channels to switch between, come 10 o'clock, all 3 were fading into doof doof. They started with some cool mixes to ease us into it. Fresh Prince of Belair mixed with....doof doof. Wonderwall mixed with... doof doof.

Luckily by that time, we were exhausted. Jumping around for almost 2 hours is quite the workout and we were ready to pass our headphone sets to the next people in the queue.

And one other reason it might have been awesome, we were outside, with that ever persistent Perth wind to cool us down as we danced away under the lights of the city.