Modesty And The Camera In Australia

It’s been a boring day and an eventful evening.

The Linuxworld trade show was only marginally busier today than yesterday. It didn’t have the thrill of doing a keynote speech. To top it off, the free wireless Internet we enjoyed yesterday was unavailable more of the day. Thus it was a long, boring day.

After the show, Gehan, Clinton and I walked over to a Darling Harbour pub and enjoyed a beer out on the pier. After hearing Gehan’s fascinating stories from his time in the Middle East, we parted ways. I hopped onto the tram for a ride back to the hotel.

I relaxed at the hotel until 8, at which time I was feeling pretty hungry. I wasn’t out for fancy food, but I wanted some scenery. I thought I’d head to The Rocks for the scenery and if there happened to be a fish-and-chips place I’d take care of the food part, too.

I hopped a train and was soon at The Rocks. Tempting as the sight of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House was, I kept my lens cap on and headed towards the restaurants and pubs.

I followed a couple into a bistro called Claude’s Kitchen, right inside the Observer Hotel. The huge plate of fish and chips I got for $16 AUD may well have been the best meal I’ve had in Australia. I had to order my dinner drink at the bar, so I walked up the mostly-empty bar and picked up a Killarney’s on draft. It instantly became the best beer I’ve had in Australia.

After I devoured my dinner, I heard music coming from the bar area. Wandering back I heard a guitarist playing in the corner. A crowd of voices began to sing along with whatever forgettable pop song he was playing. I turned the corner to see the bar now filled wall to wall with college-age students wearing lab coats scribbled with risque grafitti.

“Aha,” I thought. “These are the kids I saw wandering around outside when I walked in.” The flock had apparently chosen the bar I was in to roost.

“Uh, what’s the occasion?” I asked a nearby girl.

“It’s a university pub crawl,” she answered as she turned back to her friends.

I considered this a for a moment. I had pictures to take, so I thought of working my way through to the door. Then I got caught up in the revelre in the bar and settled onto a nearby bar stool.

A man was sitting across the barrel table obviously drunk out of his mind. He smiled crookedly and leaned over to my ear.

“Habarasheuhuni Amhahdigehhtal,” he slurred above the din.

I blinked. “Uh sorry, mate. Can you say that again?”

With a look of intent on his face, he slurred his words once again. The guy was falling-down drunk. After repeated attempts to decipher him, I figured out he was asking if my camera was digital. I told him yes, at which point he began to pose for a picture. Humoring the drunken fool, I snapped a picture.

He leaned over again. More slurring gibberish. The word hammered doesn’t do him justice. I shook my head until he began to gesture.

Ah! He wants a copy of the picture!

“Do you have an email address?” I shouted to him. A blitzed, blank look was the reply.

Sorry, dude. No picture for you.

I took a few more pictures of the crowd before deciding to head over to the Sydney landmarks on the water. Standing in my way was a hundred college students crowding around the bar. I was five feet from the door with no chance of getting there. I turned around and found my way out a side door.

As the crowd milled around the front of the bar, I again pulled out my camera and took a shot of the festive crowd. As I snapped the picture, I heard a voice beside me.

“Why are you taking pictures?” came the not-exactly-friendly voice. Had I known what was to follow I would’ve answered “I’m shooting pictures for Girls Gone Wild In Full-Length Lab Coats!” Alas, I did not.

“Because you just don’t see this kind of thing in the States,” I answered, looking up. Next to me were too mall-security types. One had a walkie-talkie microphone on his shoulder. I looked for badges but didn’t see any.

“Why,” I asked, sizing up the situation. “Is there something wrong?”

“Are you with them?”

“Uh, no. I’m an American tourist,” I answered. “I just wanted to capture this on film.”

“You can’t take pictures here,” one of them motioned. “Its to protect their privacy.”

I considered the privacy of a crowd of rowdy people on a public street, but gamely played along.

Then the other one leaned in. “There are females over there,” he said. I almost expected him to do the Monty Python “wink-wink-nudge-nudge” bit.

Oh my god!! He was right! There really were females over there, outnumberd by guys two-to-one in the crowd thirty feet away from me. If you squinted really hard, you could even tell!

This was ridiculous. Time to wind it up.

I feigned surrender. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know there some kind of law against taking pictures.”

“You can’t take pictures of the people,” the other one said. “But since you’re a tourist its probably okay.”

Whew. Nothing more embarassing than getting busted for a phony infraction by a pair of rent-a-cops.

They began to move on. “If a copper sees you,” said one, “he might question you. You can take pictures of the buildings, though.”

I walked away, too, my mind buzzing with the irony of it all. Here is a country that shows American movies practially uncut on network television – stuff that America doesn’t show on TV. Here’s a city with adult bookstores seemingly on every block. Nearby are beaches where women frequently sunbathe topless. If that wasn’t enough, prostitution is legal here! There are brothels right out in the open!

In spite of all the hedonism, I take one picture on a public street of college students dressed like clowns and whooping it up, and I get hassled for it? Doesn’t it follow that if you act rowdy and dress in costumes with racy writing, you’re pretty much trying to attract attention?

Just when I thought I was starting to understand this country it throws me a curve ball. Unbelievable.

I made it to the landmarks. I even took some great pictures. But I did so in a huff. Australia has a lot of things going for it, but I wouldn’t trade America’s freedom of the press for anything! Australia’s approach to modesty is schizophrenic, indeed. It looks like they’ve got some issues to work out.

Wesley’s Here!

I just got word that Wesley Swanson is now here! He arrived at 12:25 early Wednesday morning, weighed 8 pounds, one ounce and measured 20 3/4 inches long. Mom, Dad and Baby are doing fine.

As if I didn’t have enough reasons, now I’ve got one more incentive to hurry home. Welcome, Wesley!

Australian Time Zone Follies

As I blogged about earlier, the Commonwealth Games were recently held in Melbourne. Unfortunately, the Games were scheduled right when Australia was due to switch from Daylight Savings Time to Standard Time. Anticipating the trouble this would cause for athletes and spectators, some asshats in Australian government decided to delay the switch to Standard Time by a week. As you can imagine, this ill-conceived decision has caused no shortage of confusion. Sure, there was no trouble getting people to the Games, but now no one really knows what time it is.

I got bitten by this yesterday morning. My hotel phone is a combination phone/clock radio. I asked the hotel staff to fix the phone as there was a short in the line which caused static. The maintenance guy dutifully came by and fixed things, namely by completely replacing the clock/phone. The only problem is that he set the time to be an hour earlier than it was (at least, what I think it was. Who knows?). Thus, I awoke an hour later than expected and was an hour late getting to the trade show.

I updated the clock to match the time posted on an Australian government website and raced out to the show. I was grumbling about the clock thing all day until I woke this morning. Though my clock said 6 AM, the radio announcer kept saying 5 AM.

Houston, we have a problem. (Houston, by the way, is currently observing CST.)

Great! Either the announcer or the clock is wrong. My laptop’s time is still in EST, so that’s no help. I turned on the TV to see what the Australian TV networks were saying. Sure enough, they said it was 6 AM, too. The radio guy was wrong.

I decided to cut the hotel maintenance guy some slack. In this crazy environment no one can possibly agree on the time!

All this trouble doesn’t even begin to address the problems with all of our modern society’s computers, several of which were stuck in one time or another. Microsoft released a patch to tell Windows servers to follow the new delayed switch rule, but the big drawback is the need to remove the patch before next year. How much you want to bet that at least fifty percent of computer owners forget to do that?

Perhaps this is a reminder from the Universe that Time is not real. Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that I may be late for breakfast now.

Or not.

Linuxworld

Today was another working day for me: my first day at Linuxworld Australia. It’s the first time that Linuxworld has done a show in Australia, and it shows. There are about forty exhibitors here, tops. It makes the 1999 Linux Expo show in Raleigh seem huge by comparision. That’s not an easy thing.

Even so, there were more exhibitors walking around than attendees. I could probably count on one hand how many decent leads we had today. When I would see someone walking up, often it would be people who had visited before. It was really, really slow. Not the kind of thing I would’ve expected from Linuxworld.

The vendor across the aisle brought in his sixteen month old daughter for a visit. I couldn’t look at her without thinking of my wonderful family back home. Instantly I became homesick. Sure I’m having fun but boy do I miss my family!

I was a keynote speaker here, which is a first for me. The organizers fit me into the last slot for the day. I spent some time working on my presentation and was ready to go when the time rolled around. At 4:45 I took the stage. While my laptop was being set up for the projector, I took a step towards a table and stepped into space instead. The old show business saying “break a leg” almost applied to me. I wasn’t hurt, so I took it as a good omen.

The show misplaced my bio, so I didn’t get properly introduced. The regular emcee was nowhere to be found so Brian, another show organizer of about retirement age, was there instead. The guy ahead of me took longer than his time so I began early. By the time I was ready to go, I looked out on rows of empty seats. Five people were in my audience.

Bummer.

I sighed, smiled, and jumped into things anyway.

My talk was short but sweet. I made the most of my twenty minutes, putting in some observations about geeks with talk of product features. I burned through fourteen slides, most of which were just there to dress up the blank screen behind me as I initially didn’t plan for any slides. I’d initially planned to show the demo site next but the lack of audience and the late hour made me end things first.

I got some applause. Then the meager audience dispersed and I was alone with Brian.

“No worries, mate,” Brian said to me. “We’ll get you a spot tomorrow or the next day. People often cancel.”

I smiled and wandered back to the booth, pleased with my presentation but depressed at the audience. The guys in the booth told me “nice job,” but it was little comfort.

Eventually I cheered up. The size of the audience was completely out of my control. You’ve got to play the cards you’re dealt, and I did the best I could with what I had. Perhaps I’ll get a better timeslot should another chance arise.

We all went upstairs to enjoy drinks and h’or deurves while Linuxworld presented their “best of show” awards to vendors. Gehan, Clinton, and I spent most of our time on the patio, where they smoked cigarettes and I took in the skyline.

Brian saw me wandering around looking for a beer. “No worries, mate,” he said again. “I’ll take care of ya.” Later I looked up from taking pictures of the city to see Brian making his way through the crowd, looking for me. Each hand held a beer, which he shoved into my hands.

“I told ya I’d take care of ya,” he said with a wink. I thanked him and grinned all the way back to the patio. That was just what I needed.

Gehan and Clinton didn’t feel like going out, so we then went our separate ways. I took the tram back to the hotel, where I spent two hours fighting the broken Internet service there. Finally throwing in the towel, I packed up my laptop (called a “notebook” here) and headed over to an Internet cafe owned by the marketing partner of my company. Now I’ve got a comfy couch to write on and a high-speed connection from which to upload pictures. Check out the gallery for the Linuxworld pictures.

The ubiquitous Jon “Maddog” Hall was there, as he usually is for each and every Linux trade show. I got my picture taken with him, just for fun.

In another interesting coincidence, a gentleman walked up to me at the party and introduced himself. His name was Mark Turner. Remember how I kept meeting Marks and the last trade show I attended? Now its the last name, too. I took a picture of the other Mark Turner and enjoyed chatting with him. You can’t help but like Mark Turners.

Tomorrow should be better at the show. I suppose people are beginning to notice, as I’m told over 2,000 online registrations were received today to attend the show. Hopefully there will be some good leads there. Just a couple of sales can make it all worthwhile.

Now its off to bed. Check in again in the morning, mate. Good on ya. Fair dinkum. Cheers, etc…

Phillip Island Pictures

I’ve posted pictures from my weekend at Phillip Island in the gallery.

I should note that I just got the camera that took these pictures, a Nikon D50, and I love it! Snapping picture after picture is so addictive. I tended to go overboard with these shots, but you gotta admit that the scenery is so beautiful.

A Visit To Phillip Island

It’s Sunday morning. We’re out at Phillip Island, where there’s no broadband Internet so I wrote this on the back porch and posted it later. It’s a beautiful place, but I’ll get to that part soon.

Phillip Island is where Clinton’s family owns a beach house. He’d had been reluctant to add a rental car to the expenses he’s incurred so it looked as if we’d have to skip a visit. When I awoke in Melbourne it occured to me that a trip here would actually save the company money. There was no way a rental car would be more expensive than the $300AUD per night for a hotel. Thus the trip was on.

I called Clinton with the news, whereby he quickly made the arrangements for the car. While he did that, I wandered out to find breakfast and a speedy Internet connection. From a food court three blocks from the hotel I enjoyed a nice muffin and dirt-cheap VoIP calls to the States. It was around eleven when I walked back to the hotel.

Saturday was Clinton’s mother’s birthday, so we joined her and her best friend for lunch in the up-and-coming Docklands area of Melbourne. Ah, nothing like a noontime beer to make one feel part of the culture! We ate at a Mediterranean cafe on the water called Mecca Bah, where I enjoyed a garlic chicken kabob.

It was around 2 PM before we hit the road north. Clinton drove his mom’s well-worn Mercedes, his mom rode in the back, and I had the “suicide seat” up front, windows down to mitigate the 32*C autumn heat. For the first time since my visit started, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I dozed for ten minutes.

First stop was Clinton’s house, where he would pick up his laptop. He had locked his keys inside on his way out earlier that morning, so the actual first step would be getting into his house. His mom had helpfully given him a bag of keys she’d collected from her house, but none worked. To get inside, Clinton climbed through an open bathroom window. Ah, these hardy Aussies! Would the Crocodile Hunter walk through the front door? Crikey, no! He’d climb through the window, knife in his teeth, and wrestle with the window screen like it was an angry boa constrictor. Aussies don’t just walk through the door, mate. They live for the drama!

Clinton’s home was much like any single geek’s home: comfortable and full of gadgets of one sort or another. I was particularly proud of his room dedicated to geek pursuits: cables, computers, and electronics scattered from one end to another. Impressive!

We went from there to his parents’ home, five minutes away. There I met his dad, who gave me a look at the beautifully-restored, 50s-style antique car in his garage. Though I forget the name of the model, it was the first car built and sold in Australia. It even clocked distance in miles, rather than kilometers, which goes to show how old it is.

We had no time for a spin, however, so we took our rental car south to Phillip Island, arriving in a little over an hour. Along the way, I set up my newly-acquired Microsoft GPS and mapping software and was surprised to see it did cover Australia’s towns, if not the roads themselves. It was fun to see just how far south we were.

Arriving at Phillip Island, Clinton first took me to his favorite beach, which was farther than the beachhouse. We walked down thirty steps from a scenic cliff to the flat beach overlooking the Indian Ocean. The beach reminded me of one in America’s Pacific Northwest: high cliffs, rocky outcroppings, and few beachgoers out enjoying it.

The Indian Ocean! I couldn’t resist sticking my hand in it. It had been fifteen years since I’d sailed it and I thought I’d have to go to Perth to see it again. While it looked calm from the surface, I know its teeming with life. Lots of stuff unfriendly to man call the Indian Ocean home.

Getting to the beach house, we put our stuff inside and broke out the potato chips. I was getting a headache, so we ventured out to find some ibuprofen and dinner (it was 6PM or so). A visit to a convenience store got the pills I needed and directions to a good “fish and chipsery.” Off we went.

Clinton also had a headache at that point and wanted to get the fish “take-away,” but changed his mind once it was in hand. We sat at the wooden table outside while we watched a parade of tourists and locals descend on the restaurant. I marveled at our timing as we devoured two boxes of swordfish, “flake” fish, fries and vegetables. It was just what I needed.

We went back to the beachhouse and sat in front of the TV. We were killing time before Phillip Island’s “penguin parade” was to begin. On channel ten was the movie Matilda, starring Danny Devito. It was about a little girl with psychokenetic powers. Not too deep, but entertaining nonetheless. At least it seemed that way to this weary traveler!

Around 8:45 we went out to see the “penguin parade,” when dozens of penguins make their way up the beach to nest at a local wildlife park. It’s a very popular event with the tourists: there were over 2,000 people there to see the penguins make their long waddle out of the surf and into the dunes. We timed out trip to occur near the end of the parade when the penguin/people ratio was a bit more favorable. There were still throngs of people along the dimly-lit boardwalk though the dunes on either side were alive with chittering penguins.

Squinting in the dark, we could make out penguins here and there among the dunes. They would simply be standing there, backs turned to the crowd, seemingly happy to snooze among all the attention. It wasn’t like Seaworld where they’d do backflips or anything. After five minutes of watching a penguin sleep, you’ve pretty much seen it all.

We did see penguins waddling here and there. A half-dozen splashed out of the water when we went to the beach end of the boardwalk. They made their way up the dunes with surprising quickness. Others waddled next to the boardwalk as we made our way back out of the park.

No photography was permitted there so unfortunately a written description will have to suffice.

We went back to the beachhouse and straight to the backyard, where the most incredible show was taking place: the night sky. It was so dark on Phillip Island that galaxies were plainly visible with the naked eye. We sat in the darkness and took it all in. Surprisingly, in the half hour we were out there, I didn’t see one satellite pass by. Not even one manmade vehicle, in fact. It was stars and planets, as far as you could see. Absolutely beautiful. After taking that in, I bid goodnight to Clinton and retired to my room, where I read a book until about 11.

When I woke up in the night, I was astounded at how dark it was. We were out at the beach on a sparsly-populated island. The nights were dark. Of course, the awning was pulled over the window, too, which I didn’t realize until morning, but regardless it was dark. I’m not used to sleeping in such darkness and silence.

My alarm clock this morning was the unusual bird calls from the local birds. No robins or chickadees here: it was squawking seagulls and birds I couldn’t identify. Part of the fun of Australia is the sound of it. You know you’re someplace exotic even with your eyes closed.

Once Clinton was awake we went out for breakfast, heading to the Euphoria Gallery Cafe in town of Cowes. As we ate bacon and eggs, I read the travel section of the newspaper. The writer was visiting Tuscany, and described a cafe in Volterra that I visited this time last year. It was fun thinking of that fascinating, fun visit while I was enjoying this one.

We walked through the tourist shop and then went out to the pier, where I took pictures of the gorgeous coast. Then we went to see The Nobbies. No, it’s not a strip bar. It’s a group of rock outcroppings just off the shore. It was here that reconfirmed my comparison to the Pacific Northwest coast. The rocks looked similar to the ones I’ve seen on the beaches of Oregon.

We wandered along the walkway. I took pictures of everything imaginable, as there was fantastic scenery everywhere I looked. Some other tourists were looking under the boardwalk at something which turned out to be penguins. The park rangers had built little coops for them under the walkway. I took my only penguin pictures here.

We debated going to see the koalas at the koala reserve but decided to head back to the Melbourne airport. Good thing, too, as we checked in about twenty-five minutes before our scheduled departure. Fortunately for us the flight was delayed half an hour, so we spent the time in the food court.

Back in Sydney we waited for my bags, then we took the train into town. I realized after a few stops that I could have walked to my hotel from a previous stop, so I parted with Clinton and checked into my hotel. He’s off to get his car before meeting me for dinner, which will happen any time now.

I’m in Sydney for the rest of my trip. I’ll miss the Melbourne area. I didn’t see as much as I wanted to, but what I did see was spectacular. It all means I’ll have to spend more time here on a future trip.

Pictures From The Training

I’ve uploaded more pictures from my trip here. These are of the certification classes from Sydney and Melbourne, so you don’t get much view of the cities themselves. In fact, the main feature of these pictures is my oversized, Charlie Brown-style noggin.

I’m off to take more interesting pictures now. Check back in about twelve hours for more shots.

The Phones Don’t Stop Ringing

In my attempt to write some amusing observations about Australian culture, I neglected to mention the day’s activities.

I met Naomi from the corporate office here at 8:30 this morning. We drove over to a place she said served the best coffee in Melbourne, a worthy coffee indeed in light of the large Italian contingent which lives in the city. We then walked over to our first (and, it turns out, only) customer meeting of the day.

I was there to provide technical resources to this particular customer. It turns out this happy customer really didn’t need any. He figured out things himself and couldn’t have been more pleased with the product. We left him after a half hour of pleasant conversation and headed back to our office.

The customer meetings planned for this afternoon didn’t pan out, as the short notice of my arrival here didn’t allow for much certainty. Instead I spent the afternoon at the office, configuring my VoIP client and answering emails.

The office here is a small thing. Only three employees work out of it. Two of those employees were away today. You would think this would have made it a nice quiet refuge today. Of course, you would be wrong.

The telephone literally rang off the hook! Naomi took one call after another, most of them orders for our new product. Her lunch was actually cold by the time she got around to eating it! It was absolutely crazy. I couldn’t stop chuckling at the response. I’ve been doing this for three years now and this response beats all I’ve ever seen.

To say the presentations of this week were wildly successful would be an understatement. The response has far exceeded my expectations. I’m really excited at the momentum that I helped build for the product, though all the credit goes to the great team here in Australia. I’m glad to have been here and to have helped get things going.