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• 30 minutes functional core weight training
• 30 minutes running
• Liang-Yi Chuan

• 20 minutes conditioning
• Liang-Yi Chuan detail
• Transitions detail
• Rolls:  grass, concrete, sand, up/down/across hill
• Stances:  closed-eye obstacle movements, up/down/across hill
• Moving uphill, downhill, sprinting
• Striking on uneven ground

We were running out of time in Sydney, although we’d heard Melbourne was less expensive, and were lookingforward to saving some money.  Up and out early on a day that promised gorgeous weather, we grabbed another transportation day pass and headed out to Manly Beach.

On the way over I noticed two policement stationed on the ferry, chatting casually.  It struck me that they were the first police I’d seen the entire trip thus far.

In the Manly ferry terminal we spotted a Subway an realized we were quite famished.  Normally, subway wouldn’t be my preferred fare, but for $8 for a foot-long (no “$5 foo-long here”), Nae and I split a relatively good meal for $4/each, which would end up being our cheapest meal of the entire trip.  As an added bonus, and you can dump on all the veggies you want, for now extra cost.  Contrast that with the breakfast bars we saw advertised in a grocery store that boasted “high in carbohydrates!, and you’ll perhaps understand why we felt a little mineral-deprived.

Manly, and the abutting Steyne Beach, is a nice little strip of land, a little higher class yet slightly less expensive than Bondi.  Or, that could be that it’s slightly less popular than Bondi, and as of yet doesn’t quite have the prices nor the dirt that tourism brings.  Of the two, I think next time I’d like to try

staying in Manly for a few nights.

After a beach walk up to Steyne under a clear blue sky, a nice change from yesterday’s drizzles, the girls plopped down for some rays while Jorden and I swam out for some body surfing.  There’s plenty of no-swim zones with the mess of powerful currents along the beach, and even on the small 3-4 footers we were catching, I could see how it’d be easy to get quickly pulled out in a rip.  The water was warm enough to not require a wetsuit, but cold enough that you’d get chilly after an hour or so.   The loss of energy due to heat diffusion and fighting the currents could drag even serious swimmers out.  Unlike in SoCal beaches, the lifeguards would actually paddle out periodically and tour around the edge of the surf checking for problems.  (And, afterward, would take a quick nap on the beach, occasionally topless.)

The mood to explore some more struck back, and we reversed our direction to start wandering south.  We passed out of Steyne, through Manly and more of the oceanside pools, through Shelly Beach, and began hiking up into the Parkhill Reserve.

The temperature climbed quicker than we did, and we were hot and sweaty within no time.  We were rewarded with some great views up and down the coastline.  Eventually, we were able to find some old WWII anti-aircraft artillery bunkers, get a little bit lost, and come out the other side somewhere near an artillery school.  Everyone else on the trail gave up and turned back, which made the “find” feel a little more special — until we realized that we could’ve reached the bunkers via three minute walk from the roadside, if we’d come from the opposite direction.  Oh well.  It was a nice hike.

After returning to Manly from the west, we quickly hopped on a ferry — most likely walking past Frenchie, as it turns out — and returned to the hostel for some food, drinks, and socializing.  It ended up being a logistical night:  taking advantage of the laundry machines, Nat and Jorden realizing that 6 pairs of jeans per person weighs a lot and isn’t necessary, and figuring out how to deal with the screaming Chinese neighbors (I gave lanaea my travel earplugs).

Oh, and the Israelia guys I was hanging with asked if I was 40.  Ouch.

Back to Basics:

• Stances:  horse, stick, cat
• Advancing, retreating, turning, rotating, asserting angles, scanning, transitions
• Strengths, weakness, other characteristics of stances
• Footwork exercises:  moving through obstacles with closed eyes, turning obstacles into allies, using tactics to achieve a strategy
• Walking and running uphill and downhill, mechanics, advantages therein, angles, anecdotes on training on cacti-filled shale hills.

Recently Readings/Re-readings:

• On Combat, Grossman, Dave, et. al.
• Meditations on Violence, Miller, Rory
• Sharpening the Warriors Edge: The Psychology & Science of Training, Siddle, Bruce
• The Way of Kata, Kane, Lawrence, et. al.
• A Professional’s Guide to Ending Violence Quickly, MacYoung, Marc
• Games Criminals Play: How You Can Profit by Knowing Them, Allen, Bud and, Bosta, Diana
• Living the Martial Way, Morgan, Forrest

Sleep came easy, unfortunately it was fleeting.  We were up before the hostel kitchen opened, but after showers and a brief walk scouting for coffee houses, we were able to grab a pot and mixing spoon and improvise a breakfast.  We hoofed it out to the main drag, and on the recommendations of others, picked up an all-day train-bus-ferry pass for a mere $17.  Well worth it if you can start early and jam a whole bunch of disparate activities together.

Our first destination was a Koala Park, which is really just a small zoo with all sorts of uniquely indigenous Australian critters.  But where else in the world are you going to be able to pet a koala or a kangaroo?  With our mega transit passes in hand, we headed off to find out exactly what wombats, echidnas, and wallaroos, and other such things actually looked like.

I must take a moment to note that Sydney’s public transportation is by and large fantastic.  We never spent more than a few minutes waiting for a train or bus and it was quite easy to figure out where we needed to go — at least for the first few legs of the journey.  After we hopped off the train in Pennant Hills, however, things changed.  According to the guide, the next bus would take us ten minutes to the koala park.  We figure it’s probably somewhat of a touristy thing, so it should be quite visible.  Twenty minutes into the ride, we still haven’t seen it, and start to realize that we’ve passed the same intersection before.  And that we’re in what be the world largest retirement community.  We decide to wait until we’ve gotten out of Florida-Down-Under, but alas, after another half hour we’re still trolling around building after building of Anglican institutional housing for the retired.  Finally, we bounce out the other side, and ask the driver.  We have to get of the bus, grab another, and take another 30 minutes ride back toward the park.  Oops.

When we do finally pass the park, we see it has a giant yellow sign out front — hard to miss — unless you’re sitting on the other side of the bus, as we were the first time.  Fortunately this has lined us up to enter the park just before the next koala feeding, were they pull one down (he really didn’t want to stop sleeping), feed him a bunch of eucalyptus, and let you pet him.  They’re actually incredibly soft, and I wondered if it was a bad thing to be petting it and thinking, “Could I get a sweater made of koala hair?”

We also sprung $1.70 for the special kangaroo food; necessary if you want to enter the kangaroo pen and make some new friends.  As it turns out kangaroos’ natural prey is Honey Nut Cheerios.  They’re quite inquisitive in this pen, although they’ve a huge center toe with a large ugly spike at the end that’d I’d hate to see used for defense.  For the most part they’d crawl all over you, digging in pockets and bags, searching for the elusive Cheerio.  One even bit a hole in the bottom of Lanaea’s bag of treats, allowing the cereal to funnel into it’s mouth.  I thought that was unfair, and challenged it to a fight.

It was a lot quicker returning to Sydney since we opted out of the retirement tour, part two.  It was still midday at the Circular Quay (pronounced “key”, which I would be informed on our last day in Sydney), but we were still a bit jet-lagged.  Two more flat whites later, we did they obligatory Opera House and Harbor Bridge viewings.

Honestly, the Opera House is cool, but it’s crowded as hell, and it’s much more impressive from a distance.  I’ve heard the opposite of the bridge climb, where you actually haul yourself up to the top, but for several hundred dollars in an already expensive town, we figured we’d save our big expenditures for things like the glacier climb in New Zealand.  We did find some other toursists that found a cheaper way to alter their perspective, however.

Frenchie had happened to be in Sydney the same time as us, somewhere in the general vicinity, and we hoped to stop by his hotel and catch him there or leave a message for him at the front desk with our whereabouts.  This would be the first time among many when we’d discover that the Australian sense of scale is completely different from anywhere else.  If an Aussie says, “a few steps away,” it means a few blocks.  ”Right around the corner” is perhaps a half-kilometer.  ”A few blocks” is several kilometers.  After ten blocks into “a few blocks away,” we found a Marriott with a map and a helpful concierge that marked Frenchie’s hotel:  30 minutes away.

Exhausted already, we decided to head back to meet Nat and Jorden, and leave an email with Frenchie.  The evening became a blur, hanging out with Nat, Jorden, Sofia, Hamilton (who had no recollection of meeting us the previous night, Maryland (her name was apparently Erin, but I could never remember that), drinking beer in the courtyard and stopping by BB’s for more drinks and the tail end of a comedy show.

I think we all went to bed somewhat drunk.

Warmup:

• Mile run
• Taiji 12 Movement
• Taiji 24 Movement
• Liang-Yi Chuan
• Bagua Yang Guas
• Bagua Yin Guas

Rolls:

• Water rolls forward, backward, lateral, wind rolls
• Alternating left/right, forward/backward, opposite shoulder rolls, changing angle and direction
• Distance control and awareness:  two partner drills maintaining maai with leaping/tight rolls

Brakefalls:

• Forward, back, side, hard ground and soft
• Transitions to other brakefalls, rolls, and stances

Motion:

• Walking:  circular scan, linear scan, creeping
• Sprinting
• Long distance running

After fifteen hours on a plane, busrides, and walking around, I’m a bit more ripe than I anticipated. Oh, that shower felt good.

Lanaea and I walked from Bondi Junction to the hostel, Bondi Beachouse, which turned out to be a couple kilometers. It felt good after so much sitting. But, try as I might to amplify my awareness: threats, exits, locale, possible joints for dinner, interesting cultural habits, etc., one of the first things I do is look left-right-left before crossing the street. And just about get clipped by a car — oh yeah, they drive on the left here. Make sure I do right-left-right in the future.

It’s the little things that’ll getcha.

The hostel is decent by hostel standards, moderately sized with a terrace overlooking Tamarama Bay to the south. As soon as we walked in we met an American from Maine who was trying to get together more pats in order to scrounge together a Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. Unfortunately, we’ll be in central Sydney come Thursday so we’ll have to make do on our own. He’s also told us that Melbourne just received a month’s worth of rain in the last day. Bridges have been washed out — as in completely destroyed. This might make our Great Ocean Road drive a bit more of an adventure.

Wandering down to Bondi Beach, we come across an oceanside pool, where the surf crashes over the separator, filling and draining the pool. Weeks later, I’d see that same pool on the news, with the Australian Olympic swim team modeling suits in front of it.

On the culinary side, bacon here is a real man’s bacon: not overcooked, in huge thick slices, with lots of fat. Normally, I’m not such a fan of the fat, but in the case: oh hell yes. The coffee, however, I haven’t adjusted to. If you don’t want something fancy, it’s either a “long black” — espresso with no milk or cream — or a “flat white,” — which looks and tastes like a latte, despite being a separate line item on the menu. The place on Hall St we had brunch at (it’s 10a local time, and we were served an unsatisfying ariline breakfast at 4:30a) served up Lanaea’s flat white with a little message in the foam, very intricate and well executed, and I wonder if they just do that for the tourists. (Aside from the accents, it’s apparent we’re first-timers when I stare, non-plussed, in response to the question, “What kind of coffee?”)

After a short while, we realized it was still near noon, and had more things we wanted to do than time to do them. Bondi to Coogee beach walk, Blue Mountains, Hunter Valley, Manly beach, Operahous and Harbor Bridge, exploring Bondi, etc. We started down the cost to Tamarama, which was distinctive thus ar for it’s encolsing rock formations, more so than anything else. There was another oceanside pool, which we’d soon find commonplace, but at this point was still a novelty. There was also the awkward formation of picnic tables — a circular concrete roofing, under which four equal sized partitions were divided, such that each group would be completely separated visually, but not aurally, from each other, yet in very close proximity. It seemed very Japanese to me.

We continued on, despite the looming thunderheads and rolling thuds of distant storms, and found ourselves descending on a stunning display of necrotic headstones and mausoleums. Waverly Cemetery. It abutts the coast, with a freshly renovated walkway just below it, yet the dichotomy is not obscene, but strikingly complementary. The cemetary covers several hillsides, with classic granite, marble, and wrought iron markers ranging back 200 years. It is profoundy beautiful, if you take the time to absorb the engravings.

A smatter of rain brought us back northbound, hostel-bound, looking for food. A word to the wise: there is no cheap food in Bondi. (Although we didn’t actually check prices and “Hungry Jack,” what appears to be the Burger King Down Under), but eventually reached such a stage of famishment that we ended up dropping AUD $45 on “gourmet” burgers, fries, and a couple beers.

Refreshed with a belly of food and a patina of defeat, we rallied to the grocery store to pick up fruit and PB&J making to cut down on food expenses. Another warning, for those with restricted diets: organics are three times as expensive as standard brands, but gluten free is extremely common. Despite not recognizing any of the brands of cereal except Special K, the names seem somehow more honest, chemical names made easy to pronounce.

Oh, a the cheapest six pack of beer was $16. Ouch.

After food, we trundled down to the central courtyard of the hostel, which is the social center of the hostel, with a few beers and the intent to make some friends. We met and chatted with Sofia, a Scot and ex-Cisco PM looking for something else, Fanny from Ireland who really missed home cooking, a few English kids fresh out of high school (or whatever the UK equivalent is) that were living in Bondi for a year or so. They informed us that the reason boxed wine wasn’t allowed in the hostel anymore is that some girl had gotten so drunk on it — and it’s apparently a wicked kind of drunk such wine instills — that she’d crapped in the hallways. As in plural. As in systematically laying cable throughout the hostel.

Fortunately, it’d been thoroughly cleaned by the time we’d arrived.

We were also introduced to a local lush, a really good natured lush, who I shall dub “Hamilton.” He was already wine bottle or two deep, as was apparently his custom. His name I can’t recall, nor the town in New Zealand he was from, but after relating the beauty of his farm, I asked were it was.

“Oh, it’s near SomePlace.”

“What large city is that near?”

“Hamilton.”

“What larger city is that near?”

“Auckland.”

“Ok, I know that one.”

So, the girl and I leave for Australia and New Zealand tomorrow, which I’m pretty damned excited about. I’ll be blogging the trip ex post facto, like the Costa Rica trip, since I’m most likely not going to want to sit and edit prose or photos while I’d rather to be out exploring. However, I may post occasional status updates here on on my Facebook page, since that’s pretty quick and easy.

Aside from the glacier hiking, Great Ocean Road, wine tour, and whatever else we decide to do, this trip is also a gear experiment for myself, since I still plan on doing the extended trip around the world at some point.

The first change made is opting out of taking my full rig + lenses + filters + misc. So, instead of the 40D I’ll be taking two smaller compact cameras: a Panasonic LX-3 and Canon G10. Both allow full manual control and RAW shooting, so the only flexibility I should lose is a little bit of speed and range on the lenses, and possible some regret when I want to shoot some water and don’t have a polarizing filter (or a ND filter for other occasions.) The downside to this is that I have to take two separate battery chargers. Oh, and an AUS/NZ outlet adapter. Oh, and a mini power splitter to be able to plug everything in to one outlet. So, basically, I have a little voltron to assemble every time I want to charge stuff. The upside is that I’ll be lugging around several less pounds than before, and can carry everything in a camera bag that doesn’t look like a camera bag. For those that are interested, I highly recommend these tactical bailout bags. They’re cheap, durable, got pockets galore, everything is adjustable (generally via velcro, which is good pickpocket defense without requiring fuss), and even has a hidden pocket that will store a handgun (not that I recommend concealed carry when travelling, but maybe good for storing some emergency money.) And it’s a “tactical” bag, so it’s probably the manliest man-bag you could possibly find.

The second change is that I’m actually taking a laptop — or, to be precise, a netbook. My normal strategy for backing up photos while travelling is to bring along two USB-powered 2.5″ hard drives. When my cards get full or the time is convenient, I stop by and internet cage dump everything to the hard drives and store one in each bag (backpack and daybag) so even if one gets stolen, I have duplicates. (I don’t want to wait for or pay to upload 10 gigs of raw photos at a time, particularly outside of first world nations where connectivity is poor but expensive.) CF and SD cards have gotten so large and so cheap now, though, it’s easier and lighter weight to just buy a few more cards and never format them. Since I picked up a netbook to play with a bit ago, which has a decent sized hard drive and a built in card reader, I figured I’d just use that for the backup — SD cards in one bag, netbook in the other. And, if the need arises, I can always open it up to actually view or convert a raw photo, make a hostel reservation, etc. That said, I’m still hesitant of adding what amounts to 2 lbs of unnecessary crap I have to look after, so we’ll see if this ends up being a long term solution. (Aside: why isn’t anyone making a reliable palm-sized SD to SD copier? All the ones out there a crap! Ideally I could replaced the hard drives or netbook with a baggy of SD cards and a mini copier!)

Finally, the third change I’m test-driving: bringing a pair of jeans. I never bring jeans when travelling when I’ll be gone longer than a couple days. Big, heavy, a pain to wash and dry, etc. But, Australia and New Zealand are pretty first-world, so coin laundry shouldn’t be hard to find. And we’ll probably be hanging out in more places where jeans are more appropriate than my uber-geeky quick dry trousers.

Regardless of whether this becomes gear-regret trip or not, I know I’m going to have a fantastic time. The gear doesn’t make the trip, the experiences do.

(Any many thanks to M– for staying at our house and taking care of the small four-legged pest we love so much.)

Oh yeah, almost forgot: Sandan on 2009/09/20. I’ve been going back to the basics with my two students; there’s just as much for me in there as there is for them. Time to keep on training….

Second on the list of martial arts gear I could make now that I have a backyard: a tameshigiri stand. About as simple as the makiwara, if not more so. I started with a 3′ 4×4 post:

The hardest part of the project is attaching the four legs such that they are level, especially when the floor of your garage isn’t. However, given that this will be resting on a non-level surface outdoors, I wasn’t too concerned about getting it perfect. Despite that, I was reasonable careful to get each of the 20″ 2×4 legs pretty even:

Repeat with the four other legs. In order to drill out the center hole for the peg, I used a forstner bit, because, well, I think just just about one of the coolest things ever. If you go this route, though, be careful — a forstner bit has a lot of surface area, so you can’t go as fast as with a flat wood bit. I went about 2.5″ deep, but probably should have gone farther.

After that, we’re nearly done. I used a miter box and a saw to cut a 1″ oak dowel into 8 inch sections, then used a draw knife to bevel out the top of the peg. I made a few spare in case I accidentally cut through them or they otherwise break or rot.

After a coating of waterproofing and some test cuts, I noticed that there was just enough leeway in the peg hole that poor upward cuts could pull the tatami omote and peg up out of the stand. Even a cut that pulled up just slightly would be enough to remove the peg, since forstner bits can be a little squirrellier than a flat wood shank bit when cutting to such depths, so the hole is slightly larger than the dowels. In order to rectify this, I drilled straight through the post and peg with a 1/4″ bit, and secure the peg with bolt and wingnut. The bolt is visible in the final product: