Well I love you more than anything in the world, love your baby girl.

Those of you who are fellow country music fanatics should recognize this lyric instantly, the classic line from the dynamic duo Sugarland’s famous “Baby Girl.” It is one of my favorite lyrics, from one of my favorite songs, from one of my favorite bands. Now, whether or not you like country music, I’m sure you can at least appreciate the sweet sentiment that these lyrics pass along. Perhaps I empathize with it a little more closely because I am my parents’ baby girl, so to speak.

It is prevalent that I’ve entitled this blog with a Sugarland lyric because, upon my parents’ arrival in Melbourne on April 16^th, I was delighted to receive surprise VIP Sugarland tickets for Country Jam as a birthday gift. Other segments of this song's lyrics relate well to my parents’ visit to the land of Oz. Let’s unpack these lyrics and see what we find.

“Well it’s a long way from here to the place where the home fires burn. Well it’s two thousand miles and one left turn.” Duh. Let’s be honest, this one’s easy. I really do not think it’s possible to be more grateful for how far my parents have traveled to see me. Exchange the 2,000 for 10,000-then equate my level of gratefulness with the corresponding growth of the true distance. It has long been a dream of mine to be able to travel with my parents-I’m not talking about our drives to northern Michigan, our weekend trips to Chicago, our mostly rare beach getaways to places like Mexico and the Dominican Republic. I mean really travel. Their trip to Australia is significant because it is the first time the three of us have experienced an entirely new continent together. They are the best piece of home I could have asked for, and I am so lucky for this opportunity to show them around and share my new international digs.

“Dear Mom and Dad, please send money, I’m so broke that it ain’t funny.” Anyone who’s been to Australia, or been somewhere abroad where the currency exchange rate and the cost of living hurt you a little bit on the inside, can surely identify with this lyric. Traveling extensively in an expensive country costs a pretty penny, and each purchase requires serious, serious consideration. Pulling the trigger on these weekend trips to the Outback (coming up May 6^th!), Sydney, and Cairns is a terrifying prospect and it often requires a little handholding after the credit card number has been punched in and the dwindling numbers make themselves known on your online bank statement. The point here is that money is a very sensitive matter while traveling and no one, no matter what you have, how you were raised, or what you’ve been given, is above smart finances while abroad. Let’s just say it’s nice to go out to dinner and not worry about how much cash is in your wallet and whether or not you can afford a soda with your meal, because the bill’s on Scuba Steve and Mother Mary tonight-so let’s get another bottle of wine!

The final full verse of the song brings us back to where we began, although there are other worthy, relatable lyrics in this song. Nonetheless, this is the most important lyric to me as I write this. To my parents: thank you for...exploring the Great Ocean Road (an adventure of epic proportions with Stevo driving on the left of a cliff-side road), Phillip Island, myriad dinners at fabulous restaurants from Lygon Street to Cairns’ Esplanade, movie tickets to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, bandaids, bottles of wine, trips to the Kundara rainforest and the Great Barrier Reef, and much more. It’s been a treat having you down under. So although you wear socks with sandals more than you ought, and although your sunscreen is never fully rubbed in, and although you still don’t understand the strategy of crossing Australian roads properly, I still love you more than anything in the world. Love, your baby girl.

Devilish Days.

I spent the latter half of my Easter Break (not known as “spring break” here-making quite the assumption about religious affiliation, aren’t we, Australia?) traveling around Tasmania with my study abroad group. Not Tanzania, the country nestled on Africa’s eastern coast. People often hilariously confuse these two locations based on the simple assonant similarity of their names-in fact, I truly had a few people reminding me to bring my passport on this trip, my “trip to Africa.” I’m sure that Australia’s small island state is quite, quite different from the east African seaboard.

We left at the unforgiving time of 6:00am on April 7^th and landed in Launceston, the home of Cataract Gorge...and pretty much nothing else. After this quick scenic stop, we were on the road with our notoriously monotonous bus-driver, good old Glen. Upon stopping in Iluka for the night, the majority of our group embarked on a quick run on the beach and polar bear (literally, frigid. Who knew Australia was a cold place? You had no idea, did you?) swim in the Tasman Sea. The next day brought us to Freycinet National Park, the home of Wineglass Bay and Coles Bay. An unexpectedly difficult and entirely dangerous hike brought us down a jagged ladder of rock steps to the treasure that is Wineglass Bay. Only accessible by foot, it is a spectacular sight, untouched and perfectly picturesque. We quickly made up for the 1,000 calories we expended on the treacherous hike with a visit to Kate’s Berry Farm (who, as it turns out, used to be Kevin). We noshed on warm scones, handmade cream, and fresh jam-it doesn’t get much better, or more British (which is appropriate, based on the obvious elements of Australian history), than that.

Following some spooky historical jaunts in Port Arthur, we made our way to a Tassie Devil Park, which afforded us up close and personal views of the crazy devils themselves. They’re endangered and confined to tiny Tasmania (and no, they look nothing like the cartoon characters of old). I’m quite sure Mocha would find it fun to romp around with those guys for awhile, but unfortunately for her, her general good-naturedness would not bode well nor protect her from their temperamental attitudes and gnarly fangs. Our trip to the Meadow Bank Winery proved fattening and delightful-there were beautiful views from the outskirts of the vineyards and we certainly enjoyed ourselves in a gluttonous manner. Our final foray into Tasmanian life was a biking descent of Mount Wellington, the highest point in the state, nestled in the background of Hobart. There were unrivaled views of 75% of the state from this 1270-meter sandstone paradise. As it was a descent and not a climb, the majority of the trip was spent clenching our brakes for dear life, hurdling down the mountain at high speeds and hoping not to crash into whatever IES amigo was sailing down in front of you.

All in all, Tasmania was a true gem. It sure gets a lot of crap, for lack of a better term, for being Aussie’s small, insignificant island state. Take it from me, if you’re the trusting type, and give this place, and those tyrannical Tassie Devils, a try sometime.

Noo Zealand.

No, do not fear. I have not fallen prey to the unfortunate misspellings of the obvious that so plague my Australia Now T.A. I've merely chosen to alter the spelling of New Zealand in this title to give due precedence, consideration, and thanks to one of my dearest and most revered best friends, Susanna Beien. She is affectionately known amongst inner circles as Noonie, and her long-standing moniker has myriad variations, similar to my Flo and its offspring-hence, the reason for which I could not resist the necessary 'Noo' play on words in entitling this blog.

Nevermind that I willingly added two days to my truancy record at uni and nevermind that I got to cross country #18 off of my list-to be reunited with a first familiar face in two months...to be reunited with my other half for the first time since December 17, 2009-these were reasons enough to get on a 6am flight for Dunedin, New Zealand on March 30th. The thrills and the beauty of the commencing seven days were just the cherries on top to the already perfect delight of being with Noonie again.

I cannot possibly contain the splendor of New Zealand's South Island in this blog entry; no more can I reach through the air waves to physically goad you toward the airline counter to purchase your own ticket right this moment. I only hope that through this post you will please take my fervent advice to visit the world's well-kept secrets that are patiently awaiting you in the south pacific. New Zealand is the yin to Australia's yang. Aussie's arid, brown, rugged landscape is beautiful in its own shocking, disruptive way. After two months in Melbourne' s metropolitan jungle, New Zealand's kelly green forests, soft hills, and sparkling turquoise waters sure alter your schema a little bit. As a country, she is so delicately beautiful-I truly spent my too short seven days challenging my eyes, my memory, to absorb every minutia of her magic.

Throughout our first four days together, we sated ourselves with all that her college town of Dunedin had to offer: a trip to the remarkable Tunnel Beach, attendance to a few of her classes at the University of Otago, the Cadbury Chocolate Factory Tour, Baldwin Street (truly, the world's steepest recorded street!), and much more. On Friday April 2nd, we commenced on our road trip, much to my parents' deep chagrin and apprehension (their feelings I understood-not many people would trust and encourage two twenty-something girls to manage their own car...in a foreign country...on the left side of the road...for four days...). We picked our car up from JACKIE'S (the irony was not lost on me!! If you are confused and would appreciate an explanation, please promptly YouTube 'Jackie and Debra') and, after responsibly agreeing to pay for the extra insurance plan, we headed for Queenstown at a cool 100 km/h pace. Our car was a hideous "bluebird" Nissan and our navigation system was directly named Bertha. Although we were often scolded by Bertha's ability to gauge the speed at which we were going against the true speed limit, her adept navigation abilities did bring us safely and soundly around the south island to Queenstown, Wanaka, and Milford Sound.

It would be truly tedious to recount all of the adventures, the laughs, the incredible sights that we experienced over our four days of driving. Don't shake your head at your screen and tell me that that is the point of a blog, to fully detail all events and all anomalies while abroad. This I know, but I'm lacking in both sleep and patience at the moment-and as I've noted above, I cannot sincerely share these memories and sights with you-you may only see these incredible things for yourselves. Let me just say this: if you ever do find yourself appropriately situated at Jackie's in Dunedin, ready to embark on your very own Kiwi road trip, do not miss walking around Lake Wanaka, visiting the Ice Bar and Sky Gondola in Queenstown, Fiordland National Park, a three hour hike up Key Summit, and The Chasm and a boat ride through the fjords of Milford Sound.

More and most importantly, only do said things with a best friend and enjoy the blessing and privilege of seeing such a special part of the world :)