tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79934532284768115412024-03-08T13:38:03.866-08:00Justin JustoutBlah Blah BlahJustin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-40509217809493706372015-12-30T03:43:00.000-08:002015-12-30T03:43:36.830-08:00#Nightswim #Reunion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ga255XLMO70/VoPDEOxP3_I/AAAAAAAAK6g/GOTXqmlzv6U/s1600/SB.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ga255XLMO70/VoPDEOxP3_I/AAAAAAAAK6g/GOTXqmlzv6U/s400/SB.gif" /></a></div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-44216421393152311692013-07-28T01:27:00.000-07:002013-07-28T01:27:02.149-07:00Feelings Mutual<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="336" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/71187539" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="597"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/71187539">twenty twelve - Large</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/justincourageo">Justin Courageo</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-38732311016024071522013-04-06T18:20:00.002-07:002013-04-08T15:13:13.326-07:00Picnic Date with Brisbane<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The little grassy knoll along Brisbane's Southbank is a perfect setting for an evening picnic. Kayaks carrying lanterns pass by like a clew of glowworms, whilst the backdrop of skyscrapers reminds me of a line of schoolchildren shuffling around trying to determine who's tallest. Light sprinkles from the clouds above formed the icing on the cake on this fine autumnal evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With wine and cheese aplenty, the security staff, in fear that we would become a pack of raucous youths, kindly reminded us that only the consumption of cheese, not wine, could continue pass 8pm. Like young rebellious youths, we cheekily defied the curfew and sipped our wine late into the evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">JUI (Justin Under the Influence)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-48374105540102485942013-02-16T15:24:00.000-08:002013-04-06T19:27:11.166-07:00To Doo ListThere is a village about 45 minutes from Hobart called Doo Town and each house has its own puntastic name! Here's a small collection that A & I thought were cool/weird/don't get it.<br />
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<br />Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-5450023081260804072012-10-18T06:55:00.002-07:002013-04-06T19:28:54.534-07:00Shhhh....It's a Silent Dinner Party!Wowsers! I can't believe it's been seven months since I've last updated this blog - representin' the 'justout' part of this blog's name!<br />
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It's been an unbelievably busy year for me, which has included trips to Vietnam, NYC, Peru and Bolivia. Additionally, it's been hard to avoid getting soaked up in Melbourne's fun and games.<br />
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Just a quick one while it's fresh on my mind. Last weekend I experienced one of the most awkward nights of my life. More awkward than that time I went to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mario_Testino" target="_blank">Mario Testino</a>'s exclusive launch party and asked him who he was.<br />
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As part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival, I attended a <a href="http://silentdinnerparty.com/" target="_blank">Silent Dinner Party</a>, hosted in a cosy house in Carlton. The concept is easy, but complying with the rules is another story. A typical dinner party at a house, bring your own wine, amongst strangers. Rules below:<br />
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<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Please do not use words or your voice</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Please don't read or write</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Try to make as little noise as possible</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Don't interact with your personal technology</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Stay with it for at least 2 hours</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I first arrived, the host, Honi, welcomed me with a large grin, hand in air waving ecstatically. As we waited for all the guests to arrive, one of the waitresses accidentally smashed a glass on our table. We chuckled, as quietly as possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As I had attended the dinner by my lonesome, initially it was difficult for me to communicate with the other guests, who mostly appeared to be joined by company. However, soon enough, everyone's wine had done its job by the time we finished the entree of grilled mushroom. With an abundance of masking tape lying around (primarily used to cover any labels and text on our bottles), things got a bit out of hand.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One guest, who's name I will never know, became our masking tape victim for the evening. First, someone had taped a bottle cap to his eye. Next up was a hat made of a napkin taped together. I joined in on the fun by creating a hook for his hand. Following this, another guest moulded a bird for his shoulder. We were giggling quietly yet uncontrollably at this stage, which distracted us from our tasty main course, comprising of seasoned beans, a vegetable curry and a dahl-like soup.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">By the end of the evening, we were all playing (not so) musical chairs and even had a silent dance party. Having easily surpassed the two hour mark (we lasted over three hours), we were eventually asked to leave. I rode onwards, acknowledging I would probably never see or speak to the other guests again, despite having experienced a very memorable night together. </span></div>
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Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-69446214872876807522012-04-06T20:19:00.004-07:002012-04-06T20:31:57.994-07:00Souvenirs & AccrualsIt's been longer than an anaconda since I made a film. I finally had some time this loooong weekend to finish this baby off!<br />
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</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-12069864513116847182012-02-10T18:40:00.001-08:002012-03-30T21:36:04.614-07:00Saaaa Paaaa<div>It seems like a distant memory now, but over the Christmas break I visited Vietnam for a jam packed holiday. In two weeks, I managed to visit the cool north (Sapa, Hanoi, Ha Long Bay), the relaxing central coast (Hoi An), and also experienced the heat of the South (Ho Chi Minh / Saigon and the Mekong Delta). I'd be lying if I said the trip wasn't rushed, but I'm glad I still got to see so much of Vietnam.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I met my friend Will (from Brisbane) in Hanoi the day before we headed to Sapa. From Hanoi, we caught the overnight, rickety train to Lao Cai, then hopped onto a bus to Sapa. After very little sleep, we had arrived in Sapa, ready for two days of trekking. I was surprised how cold it was...10 degrees celcius, but this should have been expected considering how close we were to the Chinese border.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Along the main street of Sapa are countless massage parlours and traveller's goods stores - a paradise for trekkers. I immediately bought a cheap, fake North Face backpack that lasted two days before all the zips broke. However, two days was all I needed it for so I considered it money well spent! Within hours of arriving in Sapa, we headed off on a trekking tour towards Tavan, a sleepy little village where we were to spend the night. Along the way, we crossed a number of suspension bridges and saw some amazing sights including vast hillsides of rice paddies (that looked like steps created for giants) and some of the most picturesque mountain ranges in Vietnam.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>A number of local, ethnic minorities, dressed in their traditional clothing and sporting their tribe's tartan headscarves, joined us along the way. Initially they were friendly and helpful, conversing with us in their broken English and guiding us through some difficult terrains. However, their hospitality seemed a little artificial when they asked us to purchase items from them when we reached their local villages along our route. When we stopped in their villages for lunch, their kids and grandkids would swarm around us, begging us to buy bracelets from them. It was difficult not to; they were adorable, but strangely, at the same time, very aggressive.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>By the afternoon we had arrived at our destination in Tavan. We decided to explore the river nearby, the local school (all the schools are painted yellow and decorated with bunting), and sip beers on a bridge. It was a pretty perfect afternoon until I saw a restaurant advertising dog on its menu. </div><div><br />
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</div><div>Afterwards we decided to hang around our homestay. In my opinion, the homestay resembled more of a basic guesthouse as our group of five were housed in a separate building next to the main residence. For dinner that night, the lovely lady who hosted us cooked us a delicious meal from locally sourced ingredients. We also got to enjoy the delights of their local 'happy water', a fancy term for rice wine. We stayed up late shooting down happy water and playing drinking games using chopsticks and cards. </div><div><br />
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</div><div>I felt sorry for Will the next morning, who had to nurse a nasty hangover for the rest of our trek. I felt more sorry though, for a pig that was squealing outside our homestay all morning as it was inhumanely tied onto the back of a motorbike, on its way, presumably, to the markets in Sapa. We were rewarded with even more beautiful scenery on our second day. The sun had come out and the mist had cleared, as we walked along some steep hills, through farmland, bamboo paths and rice paddies to reach the Zaandtachaa waterfall. We sat on top of the waterfall, which overlooked one of the large yellow schools and a number of large houses on the mountain across from us.</div><div><br />
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</div><div>By the time we got back to Sapa later that day, we were exhausted, deciding to get a head and shoulder massage - I still don't know why we didn't go for the foot and leg massage considering all our trekking. Will and I decided to buy the ugliest shirts we could find at the local Sapa markets and we succeeded. However, we upset a few vendors with our ruthless lowballing when it came to bargaining! That night we caught the overnight train back to Hanoi to continue the next leg of our amazing adventure.</div><div><br />
</div><div>More to come next post!</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-36954594917617709352012-01-31T01:33:00.000-08:002012-01-30T05:35:02.349-08:00Chaco Kato Launch @ CHLOur second launch at <a href="http://chapterhouselane.org.au/current/" target="_blank">Chapter House Lane</a> was a couple weeks ago, introducing Chaco Kato's Liquid Neurology exhibition. <br />
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We have another exhibition opening night this Thursday night (2 Feb) at 6pm. Come ch-ch-check it out!Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-88333607748624725592012-01-30T03:10:00.000-08:002012-01-30T04:21:22.650-08:00Home Boys Home Girls Home<div style="text-align: justify;">Hello</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here is one of my favourite poems that I found in a children's picture book exhibition that perfectly describes my thoughts during my recent visit in Brisbane:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>HOME</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Home is where we make the world,</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>where we learn and grow and play.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Home is the first world we explore,</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>where we take our first steps.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Home is where we find the people</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>who love us most.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Home is where we find </i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>our special stories and traditions.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>It all begins with home.</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZhyCRZS32G4/TyZyTMvIDCI/AAAAAAAAAe4/1cKjb0Fy1kE/s1600/IMG_6869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZhyCRZS32G4/TyZyTMvIDCI/AAAAAAAAAe4/1cKjb0Fy1kE/s640/IMG_6869.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">During my four days in Brisbane, I felt mixed emotions all round. I'm a fourth generation Brisbane resident and I can't help but feel a natural, inexplicable attachment to the place. I love the waterholes, the nearby beaches, the verandah hangouts, the river, the bikepath along Corro Drive, GOMA, the West End cafes...the list could go on.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pr3SBh3xxfU/TyZyhpvvAwI/AAAAAAAAAfI/oTVJ5w8YgUs/s1600/IMG_7057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pr3SBh3xxfU/TyZyhpvvAwI/AAAAAAAAAfI/oTVJ5w8YgUs/s640/IMG_7057.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It kills me, however, that every time I go back, a sad feeling accompanies the joy I experience when I catch up with someone. The length of time between my Brisbane visits is constantly increasing. I see my Brisbane pals less and less and each time I see them so much more and more is happening...and I'm not there to see it, to share those experiences with them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aoog9VaTouA/TyZyaAtTDKI/AAAAAAAAAfA/lDHv7_RGPEY/s1600/IMG_6947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aoog9VaTouA/TyZyaAtTDKI/AAAAAAAAAfA/lDHv7_RGPEY/s640/IMG_6947.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was too much love oozing out of each one of my family and friends that I was fortunate enough to catch up with. You know who you are and I thank you this much for making the time to hang with me: <-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5bQFgv1EwU/TyZymXga3FI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/bmmiGSYe62A/s1600/IMG_7118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y5bQFgv1EwU/TyZymXga3FI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/bmmiGSYe62A/s640/IMG_7118.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some things I already miss from the weekend:</div><ul><li style="text-align: justify;">Playing one-on-one Laser Force at 1pm on a Friday with Zopper</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Driving in circles through the rain to Youth Lagoon</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Accidentally stumbling into the Jam Jar with one of my oldest friends</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Researching albinos in West End</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Bumping into old housemates from the Bamboo Banga at The End</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Late night gin & tonics and nachos by the river</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Bad T-shirt bowls</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Cyber city karaoke</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Discovering a decent cafe in Kenmore</li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SFxvA-h_zrA/TyZyrN24r9I/AAAAAAAAAfY/QCS1NqU7_P4/s1600/IMG_7207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SFxvA-h_zrA/TyZyrN24r9I/AAAAAAAAAfY/QCS1NqU7_P4/s640/IMG_7207.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-23681137509585260202012-01-28T04:48:00.000-08:002012-01-30T04:51:22.229-08:00Australia Open Australia ClosedLoving Melbourne at this time of year - there's a great buzz about with the Australian Open on. However, it's not really worth watching now that Federer's knocked out.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pIq0XzLkZu8/TyaPnKTFIcI/AAAAAAAAAfg/FZOWRZ9oLvQ/s1600/IMG_6457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pIq0XzLkZu8/TyaPnKTFIcI/AAAAAAAAAfg/FZOWRZ9oLvQ/s640/IMG_6457.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love - Nikolai (Davydenko) v Marty (Fish)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F-jURDBOxJQ/TyaPt_kx8XI/AAAAAAAAAfo/xLkUbUPepXk/s1600/IMG_6477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F-jURDBOxJQ/TyaPt_kx8XI/AAAAAAAAAfo/xLkUbUPepXk/s640/IMG_6477.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fifteen - Justine Hannah-Hardine v Ana Katinkavich</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mhd4sxJcTRM/TyaP2vuP8vI/AAAAAAAAAfw/ao5yG56tgZk/s1600/IMG_6638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mhd4sxJcTRM/TyaP2vuP8vI/AAAAAAAAAfw/ao5yG56tgZk/s640/IMG_6638.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thirty - Martina Hingis</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5vCuzlxbaZA/TyaP-22LGxI/AAAAAAAAAf4/PGSh9__soYE/s1600/IMG_6651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5vCuzlxbaZA/TyaP-22LGxI/AAAAAAAAAf4/PGSh9__soYE/s640/IMG_6651.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forty - Almagro v Berdych (booooo!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgQaVc_deIs/TyaQEXDkk2I/AAAAAAAAAgA/YczUHDArAUU/s1600/IMG_6694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tgQaVc_deIs/TyaQEXDkk2I/AAAAAAAAAgA/YczUHDArAUU/s640/IMG_6694.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Game - Federer v Tomic</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-80970059528385448132011-12-14T04:59:00.000-08:002011-12-16T18:21:28.859-08:00Introducing ... Chapter House Lane<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T75M_sFXTq4/TuichJwdaFI/AAAAAAAAAd0/xUGbSlG1N9g/s1600/IMG_4187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T75M_sFXTq4/TuichJwdaFI/AAAAAAAAAd0/xUGbSlG1N9g/s640/IMG_4187.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
In an earlier post, I alluded to an exciting project I've been involved with for the last couple months: <a href="http://chapterhouselane.org.au/" target="_blank">Chapter House Lane</a>. <br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">Tucked away in a laneway next to St Paul's Cathedral in the heart of Melbourne's CBD, is a recently launched contemporary art gallery. Originally a disused window front, Chapter House Lane has been transformed to inspire curiosity to passer bys and art critics alike. As a not-for-profit association, we've relied on donations of over $3,000 with the aid of crowd-funding website, Pozible. A number of generous sponsors and friends have also assisted us along the way, and for that, we are extremely grateful. A key objective of the space is for it to be a means for emerging and establishing artists to display their works for free.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XeRrrjvbr7M/Tuiccbx14jI/AAAAAAAAAds/NmMZ9AkvAN4/s1600/IMG_3862.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XeRrrjvbr7M/Tuiccbx14jI/AAAAAAAAAds/NmMZ9AkvAN4/s640/IMG_3862.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hnJ80RJUCyQ/Tuicmq7MpSI/AAAAAAAAAd8/RpAELmj-ER0/s1600/IMG_4202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hnJ80RJUCyQ/Tuicmq7MpSI/AAAAAAAAAd8/RpAELmj-ER0/s640/IMG_4202.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Behind the scenes, a small group of us with a mixed skill set (think freelance writer, art curator, lawyer, graphic designer, tax consultant and industrial designer) have been working hard to get this space up and running. After countless meetings, several buckets of paint, many late nights, and a large amount of elbow grease, Chapter House Lane finally launched on Thursday November 10 with a grand opening party.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qxP_sjE1OBE/Tuv8MvHhU4I/AAAAAAAAAeo/Jlmp2_fLWfc/s1600/IMG_4223+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qxP_sjE1OBE/Tuv8MvHhU4I/AAAAAAAAAeo/Jlmp2_fLWfc/s640/IMG_4223+copy.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9YYM15kwABM/TuicsMLs35I/AAAAAAAAAeE/7YAgAmFRRFY/s1600/IMG_4209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9YYM15kwABM/TuicsMLs35I/AAAAAAAAAeE/7YAgAmFRRFY/s640/IMG_4209.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">With approximately 120 guests in attendance, the night was a huge success, showcasing watercolour portraits from Justin Lee Williams' <i>Midnight Mountain Dancing </i>exhibition. The exhibition is on til 2 January 2012. Ch-ch-check it out when you get a chance!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kiv299DJhZM/Tuic5KoavOI/AAAAAAAAAeU/WodZY5ZOvio/s1600/IMG_4224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kiv299DJhZM/Tuic5KoavOI/AAAAAAAAAeU/WodZY5ZOvio/s640/IMG_4224.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PrH4vfBR20M/TuidAKJ5ojI/AAAAAAAAAec/bBbLo__Z9Wg/s1600/IMG_4232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PrH4vfBR20M/TuidAKJ5ojI/AAAAAAAAAec/bBbLo__Z9Wg/s640/IMG_4232.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-2915478174463928852011-12-06T04:31:00.000-08:002011-12-06T04:31:51.264-08:00This one's for you, Holly.Dear Holly,<br />
<br />
Please come visit already. Hope these pics are tempting you.<br />
<br />
From Justin<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a picture I took last week of Faux Pas playing a neat audio/visual/intergalactic-themed set at The Cube at ACMI</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l2RebCa9OMA/Tt4JSpERJOI/AAAAAAAAAdk/bdi7hfyurIw/s1600/IMG_4587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l2RebCa9OMA/Tt4JSpERJOI/AAAAAAAAAdk/bdi7hfyurIw/s640/IMG_4587.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one I took a few nights later. It was an intimate gig held just by this bridge in the middle of nowhere. Getting here was tricky and it was my first time riding a bike in a year. I was a bit wobbly on my bike. Now I know how you and Charlotte felt when you first rode that bike around the cemetery in Norrebro (straight after you had bought your bike). </td></tr>
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ps. hope all is wellJustin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-56801045827071880852011-09-23T18:47:00.000-07:002011-12-14T05:00:44.264-08:00New Chapter, New ProjectTrès exciting project I'm working on at the moment! Click <a href="http://chapterhouselane.pozible.com/">here </a>for more!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4BYubchjJqw/Tn_Y9aIOlFI/AAAAAAAAAcw/1D3wEe9Rsaw/s1600/IMG_3688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4BYubchjJqw/Tn_Y9aIOlFI/AAAAAAAAAcw/1D3wEe9Rsaw/s640/IMG_3688.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TrNlcRKP4xU/TogxhwAxuaI/AAAAAAAAAc8/zTqPXV3x-ao/s1600/IMG_3588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TrNlcRKP4xU/TogxhwAxuaI/AAAAAAAAAc8/zTqPXV3x-ao/s640/IMG_3588.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-38975464620944063232011-08-31T04:28:00.000-07:002011-08-31T04:29:46.771-07:00Awesome People Hanging Out Together<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The title sums it up perfectly.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fCP9Acie2rA/Tl4Zz36_bXI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/N4-aQpkBfM4/s1600/IMG_3325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fCP9Acie2rA/Tl4Zz36_bXI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/N4-aQpkBfM4/s640/IMG_3325.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JIeKRKiBbD8/Tl4Z9SkgXtI/AAAAAAAAAcU/svsingSkWTI/s1600/IMG_3458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JIeKRKiBbD8/Tl4Z9SkgXtI/AAAAAAAAAcU/svsingSkWTI/s640/IMG_3458.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6pOBog6ibIM/Tl4aYy-cwQI/AAAAAAAAAcc/JQxCKHMCqRw/s1600/IMG_3495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6pOBog6ibIM/Tl4aYy-cwQI/AAAAAAAAAcc/JQxCKHMCqRw/s640/IMG_3495.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-4160741501448555312011-08-19T17:24:00.000-07:002011-08-23T04:49:14.829-07:00Video Hits<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">I've been really hooked on creating videos in the past year. I made this one a couple months ago as a result of experimenting with my new camera and lens. The tracks on the video are from my current favourite band, <a href="http://www.myspace.com/beachfossils">Beach Fossils</a>. Their music is blissful and perfect for road-trips.</div></div><br />
<iframe frameborder="0" height="337" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/25926347?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="599"></iframe><br />
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Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-70447900251099930132011-08-08T18:43:00.000-07:002011-08-12T20:26:17.708-07:00Thaipusam Festival: A colourful and painful celebrationEarlier this year, during my brief stay in Kuala Lumpur, I decided to join the masses and venture out to the Batu Caves to witness and experience one of the most confronting yet beautiful festivals of my life: the Thaipusam Festival. The Thaipusam Festival is the most significant Hindu display in Malaysia, having been held annually at the Batu Caves since the late 1800s. Before the festival day, pilgrims, mostly of Tamil Indian descent, line the streets to see a statue of Lord Murugan make its way to the Batu Caves. The procession is large and colourful, comprising of a wide variety of devotees who go to different lengths to express their devotion.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACFLXqUTxFE/TkHfBA6NApI/AAAAAAAAAb0/TD7dUNR3x2s/s1600/IMG_8125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ACFLXqUTxFE/TkHfBA6NApI/AAAAAAAAAb0/TD7dUNR3x2s/s640/IMG_8125.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pound the Ground</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGOJalV6ddE/TkHgDGCRwHI/AAAAAAAAAcM/AZX27NjuhRc/s1600/IMG_8115A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGOJalV6ddE/TkHgDGCRwHI/AAAAAAAAAcM/AZX27NjuhRc/s640/IMG_8115A.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, that's right, she's not just balancing a bunch of stuff on her head, but she's also got a skewer through her cheeks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Do not go to the Thaipusam Festival if you don't like crowded places, loud noises, or get grossed out by body piercings. It's estimated that over one million devotees and tens of thousands of tourists were in attendance of the festival this year. Numerous groups of musicians, drummers and dancers energetically expressed their faith, adding to the carnival feel of the event. Stalls were set up for devotees to shave their heads and paint their heads yellow. Women, bearing a rainbow of flowers in their hair paraded around the festival in their shimmering traditional outfits. Food stalls appeared everywhere, cooking up an assortment of delights that I had never seen before. And, to keep the kids happy, an amusement park filled with rides, games and balloons was established.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bITg_xI_uUw/TkHfOdDyUiI/AAAAAAAAAcE/-qOnXpn0Jq8/s1600/IMG_8182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bITg_xI_uUw/TkHfOdDyUiI/AAAAAAAAAcE/-qOnXpn0Jq8/s640/IMG_8182.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chair swing for the kids, and big kids like me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>At first, it's easy to get caught up in the excitement and colour of this festival. But then, you see things that remind you that this is a deeply reverential event. For instance, there were men carrying elaborate and heavy frameworks on their shoulders (called 'kavadis'), which were attached to them by hooks throughout their bodies. They had to carry these frames up 272 steps to the Batu Caves...after walking several kilometres from the city. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sm67rmwtFDE/TkHfGQYvnWI/AAAAAAAAAb8/ye0vbRq4F5I/s1600/IMG_8167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sm67rmwtFDE/TkHfGQYvnWI/AAAAAAAAAb8/ye0vbRq4F5I/s640/IMG_8167.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ouch! Apparently these devotees feel no pain when they do this, and that no blood or scars appear when they remove the skewers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Then there were the devotees who, whilst experiencing spiritual and devotional trances, deliriously carried pots of milk on their heads up to the caves. Many of these devotees had skewers pierced through their cheeks and tongues, and looked like they were on the verge of collapsing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d5rHdd3iQ5k/TkHfDOYfWTI/AAAAAAAAAb4/4fsjmLe929I/s1600/IMG_8150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d5rHdd3iQ5k/TkHfDOYfWTI/AAAAAAAAAb4/4fsjmLe929I/s640/IMG_8150.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carrying milk up to the caves</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cGRwS075p_I/TkHfKzMdw5I/AAAAAAAAAcA/NZo7GPeVd_M/s1600/IMG_8171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cGRwS075p_I/TkHfKzMdw5I/AAAAAAAAAcA/NZo7GPeVd_M/s640/IMG_8171.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The way to the Batu Caves</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I followed the large procession up the 272 steps to reach the Batu Caves. Here, after days of illustrating their faith, endurance and penance, devotees lay down to rest, recover and eat, and they were duly congratulated by their loved ones.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Np3vAjkV1PU/TkHfTSvQ3hI/AAAAAAAAAcI/kQoildB3D-E/s1600/IMG_8244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Np3vAjkV1PU/TkHfTSvQ3hI/AAAAAAAAAcI/kQoildB3D-E/s640/IMG_8244.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Batu Caves, after wriggling my way through others up 272 steps.</td></tr>
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Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-89325328075663903042011-08-07T05:05:00.000-07:002011-08-09T16:52:20.510-07:00Brickin' Sweet<div style="text-align: justify;">Nathan Sawaya's <a href="http://www.artofthebrick.com.au/">Art of the Brick</a> exhibition, currently on display at Federation Square, is a visual feast of LEGO masterpieces not to be missed. Hailing from New York, Nathan Saways is an inspirational creative genius. As a disenchanted contract lawyer, he decided to leave the legal profession and become a full-time artist. Since then, he's constructed numerous people, dinosaurs, portraits and sculptures all from little bits and pieces of LEGO. In doing so, he's broken gallery records around the world. Not a bad career change if you ask me!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iWNcpYFJZbQ/Tj5-z3YnyhI/AAAAAAAAAbk/i9d8ivO83lI/s1600/IMG_2783.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iWNcpYFJZbQ/Tj5-z3YnyhI/AAAAAAAAAbk/i9d8ivO83lI/s640/IMG_2783.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hFfrvTzJDIE/Tj5-uKNExjI/AAAAAAAAAbc/X-0dUFKfVCM/s1600/IMG_2741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hFfrvTzJDIE/Tj5-uKNExjI/AAAAAAAAAbc/X-0dUFKfVCM/s640/IMG_2741.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x1rZL_SBuss/Tj5-w3e-zOI/AAAAAAAAAbg/kd17V2J12kg/s1600/IMG_2761.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x1rZL_SBuss/Tj5-w3e-zOI/AAAAAAAAAbg/kd17V2J12kg/s640/IMG_2761.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hGCl5EAgBFc/Tj5-2zT1_-I/AAAAAAAAAbo/AubL3cnVW4k/s1600/IMG_2799.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hGCl5EAgBFc/Tj5-2zT1_-I/AAAAAAAAAbo/AubL3cnVW4k/s640/IMG_2799.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yl9bQ1ywmow/Tj5-7OJrzwI/AAAAAAAAAbs/F-A-bhx8keo/s1600/IMG_2803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yl9bQ1ywmow/Tj5-7OJrzwI/AAAAAAAAAbs/F-A-bhx8keo/s640/IMG_2803.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-841365352682100602011-07-30T16:52:00.000-07:002011-07-30T16:58:14.139-07:00Open House WKND<div style="text-align: justify;">Ahoy there!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday I had a lovely day exploring some great gems of Melbourne as part of the <a href="http://www.melbourneopenhouse.org/">Melbourne Open House</a> weekend. Basically, there are about 75 buildings (many of which are private, or generally out-of-bounds) open to the public for free this weekend. Unfortunately, this event has proven to be so popular among architecture/design/history/Melbourne enthusiasts that many of the buildings saw queues that were longer than an anaconda. For instance, one of the places I wanted to see most, the Russel Place Substation, had a 90 minute queue to get in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gCgkPgAfG5Y/TjSXsTTQtRI/AAAAAAAAAbM/pr1Y57KIWXQ/s1600/IMG_2660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gCgkPgAfG5Y/TjSXsTTQtRI/AAAAAAAAAbM/pr1Y57KIWXQ/s640/IMG_2660.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyons office space</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">We managed to squeeze in a number of visits in our afternoon of exploration. The Lyons architecture firm, housed in the former Foy & Gibson department store (think old-school David Jones) on Bourke St was a unique and memorable office space. There was a maze of large silver tubes lining the ceiling and parts of the floor and pillars were uneven and rocky. Interestingly, the firm decided not to design its office space itself, but rather, outsourced the design to another architecture firm.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4LoCxjY3N4/TjSXxRCha6I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/PYwbX-aqdYM/s1600/IMG_2669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4LoCxjY3N4/TjSXxRCha6I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/PYwbX-aqdYM/s640/IMG_2669.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lyons</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iabe1-Nare0/TjSX1Jiqk3I/AAAAAAAAAbU/TbKMsnWEpwo/s1600/IMG_2686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iabe1-Nare0/TjSX1Jiqk3I/AAAAAAAAAbU/TbKMsnWEpwo/s640/IMG_2686.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Participating Buildings</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm very jealous of Origin Energy employees. We visited their hangout space on the rooftop of their building on Flinders Lane. It's decked out in astroturf and wooden furniture. There's also an unusual cylindrical seating area that was amusing to sit in.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sJ2fSvTWgM0/TjSX5Ue0yDI/AAAAAAAAAbY/YqTWvGf0eGk/s1600/IMG_2702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sJ2fSvTWgM0/TjSX5Ue0yDI/AAAAAAAAAbY/YqTWvGf0eGk/s640/IMG_2702.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Origin Energy Rooftop Garden</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Quite a few weeks back I visited some old friends in Sydney. It was cold and rainy all weekend, but we still managed to get up to some fun things, like viewing the Archibald prize finalists at the NSW Art Gallery and frolicking about in Nadia's backyard.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7UUR4oR1YzU/TjSXmvITPLI/AAAAAAAAAbI/6zKRqLmhhC8/s1600/IMG_0798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7UUR4oR1YzU/TjSXmvITPLI/AAAAAAAAAbI/6zKRqLmhhC8/s640/IMG_0798.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nadia's backyard</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Jsz_3NcKno/TjSXhhssnVI/AAAAAAAAAbE/RrHkdtwwXSA/s1600/IMG_0757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9Jsz_3NcKno/TjSXhhssnVI/AAAAAAAAAbE/RrHkdtwwXSA/s640/IMG_0757.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walk towards the NSW Art Gallery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-65550124269136642712011-07-05T06:49:00.000-07:002011-07-06T07:05:36.292-07:00Pooped<div style="text-align: justify;">Well I'm pooped! It's been cold here in Melbrrrrne and work has been BeeZee Az. I just got back from life drawing and spent about 45 minutes helping L set up an art installation at the gallery. It involved a lot of wires and cords and trial and error. It was extremely frustrating at times but we laughed it off in the end when we realised how easy it was to solve our problem.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I had a really eventful weekend showing one of my best pals around Melbourne. We spent too much moolah and took stacks of photos.</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">It really made me miss my other best pals a lot...you know who you are, whether you're in Ann Arbor, somewhere in Germany, London, Sydney, Brisrael or wherever.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-14U5pP42OjA/ThMUTwcEVbI/AAAAAAAAAaw/Pxj78V7FKTg/s1600/IMG_1773.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-14U5pP42OjA/ThMUTwcEVbI/AAAAAAAAAaw/Pxj78V7FKTg/s640/IMG_1773.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8pWkB5ez8Lo/ThMUOjx6TgI/AAAAAAAAAas/Zvit2fBJcKg/s1600/IMG_1706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8pWkB5ez8Lo/ThMUOjx6TgI/AAAAAAAAAas/Zvit2fBJcKg/s640/IMG_1706.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fifteen</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GyXbUToogxY/ThMUYKh-dEI/AAAAAAAAAa0/Otaeoprfu8U/s1600/IMG_1852.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GyXbUToogxY/ThMUYKh-dEI/AAAAAAAAAa0/Otaeoprfu8U/s640/IMG_1852.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thirty</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zGqoZBwpBiQ/ThMUbvBtUCI/AAAAAAAAAa4/Bj11nYPmRrU/s1600/IMG_1870.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zGqoZBwpBiQ/ThMUbvBtUCI/AAAAAAAAAa4/Bj11nYPmRrU/s640/IMG_1870.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forty</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AWsRCpA4Zno/ThMUgYgO-pI/AAAAAAAAAa8/MAxu6A5Cy-k/s1600/IMG_1910.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AWsRCpA4Zno/ThMUgYgO-pI/AAAAAAAAAa8/MAxu6A5Cy-k/s640/IMG_1910.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Game</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-81047101665309494372011-06-19T07:03:00.000-07:002011-06-19T07:07:03.742-07:00(03) M3L80URN3I can't believe I haven't posted anything on Melbourne yet. I still have one last post to draft up about my world travels (the Thaipasum Festival at the Batu Caves) but I'll save it for later.<br />
<br />
I've been living and working in Melbourne for three months now. I love this place to bits. Here are some pictures and Dr Seuss quotes that sum up my experience so far:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pyTsZj93zpQ/Tf3_MJQkgKI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/qKsXZTvYQfc/s1600/IMG_1377.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pyTsZj93zpQ/Tf3_MJQkgKI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/qKsXZTvYQfc/s640/IMG_1377.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"I like nonsense. It wakes up the brain cells."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3FwBzowIYsw/Tf378JuD7bI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/AoxXZjGUbk4/s1600/IMG_0326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3FwBzowIYsw/Tf378JuD7bI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/AoxXZjGUbk4/s640/IMG_0326.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-size: small; line-height: 18px;">"From there to here, from here to there, funny things are everywhere!" </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6f37fkjFfNA/Tf38QHhU4fI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/KYn8CCXtd78/s1600/IMG_0584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6f37fkjFfNA/Tf38QHhU4fI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/KYn8CCXtd78/s640/IMG_0584.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">"Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one." </span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uJo_tIAC4iw/Tf38fmGKrgI/AAAAAAAAAaA/lOT5V8FVrYw/s1600/IMG_0616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uJo_tIAC4iw/Tf38fmGKrgI/AAAAAAAAAaA/lOT5V8FVrYw/s640/IMG_0616.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">"They say I'm old-fashioned, and live in the past, but sometimes I think progress progresses too fast!"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M-3mzMzAc-M/Tf38wa8l_NI/AAAAAAAAAaE/bb5QjwTrccI/s1600/IMG_0711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M-3mzMzAc-M/Tf38wa8l_NI/AAAAAAAAAaE/bb5QjwTrccI/s640/IMG_0711.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">"Think and wonder, wonder and think."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sSD6-pVg4u8/Tf388n7gvGI/AAAAAAAAAaI/O_bG9h9RFHQ/s1600/IMG_1312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sSD6-pVg4u8/Tf388n7gvGI/AAAAAAAAAaI/O_bG9h9RFHQ/s640/IMG_1312.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; font-size: small; line-height: 18px;">"We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-27728967241913572892011-06-17T05:59:00.000-07:002011-08-09T17:11:59.874-07:00KuLu Tu: Trekkin Happy Time<div style="text-align: justify;">The last leg of my travels (it's so long ago now it seems like a dream) was Kuala Lumpur. It was mid January and it was hot, humid and bustling with energy. Judging from KL's location near the equator, I think such weather is the norm there.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I checked into one of my favourite hostels in the world, <a href="http://www.redpalm-kl.com/">Red Palm</a>, where my pal (who I'd met six months earlier), Mac, works. I told Mac I wanted to spend a day or two out of town, in a place more congenial to my exhausted soul. The next morning, a local forty/fifty-something year old man named <a href="http://www.backpackingmalaysia.com/stories/day-trip-to-chiling-waterfall-north-of-kuala-lumpur">Happy</a> picked me up. We stopped for breakfast at Kuala Kubu Baru, a district with a large Indian population, before heading off to the Chiling Waterfall.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRDhu_uSEpM/TgCTJLNl8PI/AAAAAAAAAaU/djhcvAynm2Y/s1600/IMG_7937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZRDhu_uSEpM/TgCTJLNl8PI/AAAAAAAAAaU/djhcvAynm2Y/s640/IMG_7937.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kuala Kubu Baru</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Happy is an irrepressibly charismatic man. You would never have guessed he spent a career working in insurance. After ten near-death experiences, he decided to read the Tao Te Ching, the Koran, the Bible, and other primary religious texts from front to back. He believes there is one common underlying thread between all these texts, and that is, that God is <i>within </i>all of us. He memorises and recited a number of quotes from each of these texts that supports this assertion. Yet, he doesn't understand why there is so much conflict between religions today.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nNxOCJJyE5E/TgCTbcRHm_I/AAAAAAAAAak/CSGBZPJ-J7c/s1600/IMG_8066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nNxOCJJyE5E/TgCTbcRHm_I/AAAAAAAAAak/CSGBZPJ-J7c/s640/IMG_8066.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the back of Happy's head. He has a strange scar that resembles the number 10 which reflects the number of near-death experiences he's had. Examples of such experiences include a heart attack and night-dive where he was face to face with a shark.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-S1EE61v_4/TgCTTQrTppI/AAAAAAAAAac/DEJGuB7cZPA/s1600/IMG_7994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c-S1EE61v_4/TgCTTQrTppI/AAAAAAAAAac/DEJGuB7cZPA/s640/IMG_7994.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trekking towards the waterfall</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">After one and a half hours of discussing spirituality, chopping through thick shrubs and wading through waste-high waters, we arrived at the inspiring and secluded Chiling Waterfalls. We were truly off the beaten track - at least I thought so, until we stumbled upon some of his old friends who also knew of the waterfall. <br />
<br />
Here, I fed some fish, jumped off boulders and went for a relaxing swim. As we trekked back towards our base through the jungle, Happy taught me some interesting facts about many of Malaysia's native plants and how we, as humans, can learn from their survival techniques.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cf99t8bagGA/TgCTYL3v_JI/AAAAAAAAAag/eJ6elMZy6Yw/s1600/IMG_8049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cf99t8bagGA/TgCTYL3v_JI/AAAAAAAAAag/eJ6elMZy6Yw/s640/IMG_8049.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chiling Waterfall</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W7I7JsiEwWo/TgCTOaDIRKI/AAAAAAAAAaY/RFKYf79dOhM/s1600/IMG_7983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W7I7JsiEwWo/TgCTOaDIRKI/AAAAAAAAAaY/RFKYf79dOhM/s640/IMG_7983.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaves that resembled the pattern on a soccer ball!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">The last stop of the day was the Batang Kali Hot Springs. It was at these hot springs that I thought Happy might actually be crazy. The water in these hot springs was between 42 to 49 degrees celsius. Upon arriving, he immersed his whole body, including his head, into the hot pool of water. Then he told me it was my turn. First, I splashed some of the water onto my feet. They turned red almost instantaneously. I thought I was about to be involved in some sort of religious suicide.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">After providing me with some mental exercises, he taught me to control my mind over my body and I managed to submerge myself in the hot pool of water without feeling any pain. I felt like I had been exorcised. It was surreal. My body was red and swollen for the remainder of the day!</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-52218238294941773212011-06-03T09:11:00.000-07:002011-06-03T09:14:24.387-07:00Cairo Part II / London Part II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dPIwkyzSV1I/TekHIjZyPCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/00p3FQvSVyc/s1600/IMG_7889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dPIwkyzSV1I/TekHIjZyPCI/AAAAAAAAAZs/00p3FQvSVyc/s640/IMG_7889.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My last few days in Cairo were depressing. I was exhausted and lonely, and I was the only guest at my hostel. I flicked on the television and was shocked to see the horror that was unfolding in Brisbane. CNN covered the floods incessantly throughout the night. I saw familiar images of home completely submerged in water; from parts of my campus in St Lucia to the riverside bikeway I had ridden on every day for the past year. I logged onto facebook to find some even more unsettling images; the apartment I had lived in for the past two years was inundated with water. In the hours to follow, I was gripped on both the computer and television screens. It was amazing to see the resilience and unity of those in Brisbane, and, in a way, this made me extremely homesick. I desperately wanted to catch the next flight back to Brisbane to help out, and to make sure everyone was alright.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cQhSpxy2kqw/TekHjNqLmbI/AAAAAAAAAZw/-ugoFAzZvZA/s1600/IMG_7901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cQhSpxy2kqw/TekHjNqLmbI/AAAAAAAAAZw/-ugoFAzZvZA/s640/IMG_7901.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I spent the last couple days in Cairo wandering the streets by myself. I had never felt so isolated and paranoid in my life. I had just heard on the news that a policeman had opened fire on everyone in a train carriage before shooting himself. This occurred a couple stops away from where I was staying. Then I’d learnt that there was a bomb blast in a nearby town that killed over a dozen people. I also wasn’t sure how my friends and family were dealing with the floods back home, as many of them didn’t have power or a means to respond to my correspondences.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was then informed that London, my next destination, had raised its terror alert level up a notch. The thought of flying in a plane from Cairo to London became extremely daunting for me. The actual flight itself was even more daunting. The lax security at Cairo airport concerned me greatly. Our flight was delayed twice because of a supposed imposter on our plane. As I sat in the back row, I overheard one of the air stewardesses telling another that the headcount came up with one too many passengers. We had been seated on the plane for almost an hour and had not left the tarmac this whole time. As I prepared myself for what I thought was my impending death, I was relieved to hear that the errant headcount was a result of a mistake; a stewardess had counted a baby on board when she shouldn’t have.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was relieved when I touched down in London safely. I only spent a few days there and I was busy catching up with friends and organising the shipment of my items back to Australia. Soon after, I heard about the uprising unfolding in Egypt. I considered myself extremely lucky to be staying out of danger.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">While London was covered in snow, the Tate Museum was covered in sunflower seeds! Aurora and I visited Ai Wei Wei’s famous sunflower seed exhibit whereby one million porcelain replica sunflower seeds were scattered across the floor. Each of the one million sunflower seeds were hand-fired and hand-painted by inhabitants of Jingdezhen, the 'porcelain capital' of his native China. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rx8D2jZ9Obk/TekHurnWyEI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/wP_zVZRsJ2o/s1600/IMG_4887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rx8D2jZ9Obk/TekHurnWyEI/AAAAAAAAAZ0/wP_zVZRsJ2o/s640/IMG_4887.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My remaining time in London was quite unmemorable, primarily because it involved a lot of drinking. One night we went on a mission to Brick Lane and ended up sleeping on the floor of James’ place in Vauxhall. Another night we went to my favourite cheese and wine spot in the world, Gordon’s, just by the Embankment Tube Station.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">J</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-61151575442211594752011-05-20T21:10:00.000-07:002011-05-20T21:18:40.342-07:00In the Middle of the White: the 5 Billion Star Hotel<div style="text-align: justify;">During my trip around the desert, our berber guides decided to call me 'Ali' because 'Justin' was too hard for them to remember. As we arrived in the White Desert of Egypt early one evening, I felt like I had landed on an alien planet. It was a surreal feeling to step out of the jeep into a completely white landscape of large bizarre chalk-like structures, many of which resembled animals. I felt like a kid again as I unsuccessfully attempted to climb up and conquer these monoliths. Along the ground, I collected a number of lustrous crystal-like rocks that were scattered around the plains.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OH4aoKoj7Qo/Tdc558VrJDI/AAAAAAAAAZc/G-GiXv8tC48/s1600/IMG_7794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OH4aoKoj7Qo/Tdc558VrJDI/AAAAAAAAAZc/G-GiXv8tC48/s640/IMG_7794.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We decided to set up shop next to this monolith</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Here, we set up a rudimentary camp site. By rudimentary, I mean that it only comprised of a few intricately patterned rugs laid against our two jeeps and along the ground! Our guides prepared a delicious dinner consisting of grilled chicken and lemon juice. During the night we huddled up by the campfire and played some very inventive games in the sand using rocks and twigs. Our berbers entertained us all night with their singing, dancing, and music, playing on til the early ours of the morning.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--pQzqq4cufM/Tdc5wUmubtI/AAAAAAAAAZU/DBfqzq_DSLc/s1600/IMG_7735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--pQzqq4cufM/Tdc5wUmubtI/AAAAAAAAAZU/DBfqzq_DSLc/s640/IMG_7735.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Campfire Fun</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-040VKjcAG0U/Tdc5sObU9FI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/jxDwrBfXMAQ/s1600/IMG_7726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-040VKjcAG0U/Tdc5sObU9FI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/jxDwrBfXMAQ/s640/IMG_7726.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sand Games</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">As I lay in my sleeping bag with my hands dug into the sand, I stared up to the sky and noticed nothing but a perfect view of the stars. We joked that we weren't staying in the luxury of a 5 star hotel, but rather, a much better place; <i>The</i> <i>5 Billion Star Hotel.</i> My receptivity to the scene was intense. Like many people who have visited the desert, questions and thoughts regarding philosophy and religion whirled through my head. I had just read Alain de Botton's <i>The Art of Travel</i> where he devoted a chapter to the human attraction to sublime landscapes, and I couldn't help but think of his writings:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>'Sublime landscapes, through their grandeur and power, retain a symbolic role in bringing us to accept without bitterness or lamentation the obstacles we cannot overcome and events we cannot make sense of.'</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZQIe6jCytM/Tdc51oVyDeI/AAAAAAAAAZY/Byh1wTTVFdI/s1600/IMG_7765.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2ZQIe6jCytM/Tdc51oVyDeI/AAAAAAAAAZY/Byh1wTTVFdI/s640/IMG_7765.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rise and shine!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">We rose early next morning to one of the most visually stunning views of my life; an iridescent sunrise over a horizon obstructed by silhouettes of odd rock formations. T and I snapped away with our cameras to create some photo magic, however, I still don't believe it's possible for any photo to do justice to the immense beauty of the sunrise we witnessed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S2AMOzDMbp4/Tdc59nhda5I/AAAAAAAAAZg/ktNf8RD6YYA/s1600/IMG_7795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S2AMOzDMbp4/Tdc59nhda5I/AAAAAAAAAZg/ktNf8RD6YYA/s640/IMG_7795.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Desert Sunrise</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c4-AuY3Ql54/Tdc6AgAGrZI/AAAAAAAAAZk/dEzynphRqi8/s1600/IMG_7803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-c4-AuY3Ql54/Tdc6AgAGrZI/AAAAAAAAAZk/dEzynphRqi8/s640/IMG_7803.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pack up n Go</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">After packing up our campsite we left the White Desert to head back to Bawiti. We sped through the highway, occasionally departing from it to take detours through the desert in order to avoid certain checkpoints collecting road tolls. However, this took its toll on our jeep; as we glided through a desert terrain at 100kph, one of our front tires fell off and our jeep violently halted. We were stranded in the desert, with no sign of life in sight...we managed to replace the tire, however, 4 of the 6 bolts were missing! Our guide insisted that we had to make it to Bawiti in time for our bus back to Cairo. This could only be done if we drove on the highway at 100kph. I was reluctantly stuck in the front seat...the only seat in the car without a seatbelt! The ride back to Bawiti was tense and awkward. J and I kept ordering our guide to drive slower, at 70kph. We didn't care if we missed our bus, we just didn't want to be in a fatal collision on the highway...at any moment, the 2 bolts of our tire could've given way and resulted in our jeep rolling on the highway. Better late than never we thought.</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yqKl2BvTn8M/Tdc6DuRHv8I/AAAAAAAAAZo/iXg5W6eb_qY/s1600/IMG_7857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yqKl2BvTn8M/Tdc6DuRHv8I/AAAAAAAAAZo/iXg5W6eb_qY/s640/IMG_7857.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stranded</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">We eventually made it to Bawiti, an hour after our bus left. Our guide, furious that we didn't let him drive faster to make the bus, left us by ourselves in Bawiti. With no-one speaking English in this town, we sat at the bus stop hoping for a bus to arrive. We were told to wait an hour for the next bus. It didn't come for about 3 hours. We were exhausted and irate at the way our desert trip ended.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But it was still an adventure I'd do all over again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ali</div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-71180641457562484032011-05-06T19:23:00.000-07:002011-05-07T20:14:41.410-07:00______ is the new Black [Desert]<div style="text-align: justify;">On a cool Cairo morning before the rest of the city woke up, I hailed a cab outside my hostel. I was in a hurry to the bus station to make my way to the Western Desert of Egypt (just one part of the huge Sahara Desert). There was an amusing calmness about the young cab driver who collected me. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding a cigarette, he pushed the pedal to the metal and honked his horn as frequently as he could, disrupting the rarely tranquil streets of Cairo. Whenever we stopped at the lights, he’d turn to me and shout “smoking!” before offering me a cigarette. Then he’d offer it to other cab drivers next to us.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The bus ride towards the Sahara Desert was a long but scenic one. After five hours of seeing nothing but dry, dirt landscapes, we arrived in Bawiti, a town in the middle of nowhere. Here, I saw a general market, some motels and a bus stop. Two berbers with a 4WD picked me up, along with a Canadian girl I met on the bus journey. From here we drove a couple hours into the desert, before arriving at the Black Desert. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MNPyU1FoewQ/TcSpwLiyPPI/AAAAAAAAAY4/c5EsgFs0Yj0/s1600/IMG_7571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MNPyU1FoewQ/TcSpwLiyPPI/AAAAAAAAAY4/c5EsgFs0Yj0/s640/IMG_7571.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somewhere between Cairo and Bawiti</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7qXRCxtjVM/TcSpz4CH7FI/AAAAAAAAAY8/HVG9Ae7s1Gw/s1600/IMG_7578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F7qXRCxtjVM/TcSpz4CH7FI/AAAAAAAAAY8/HVG9Ae7s1Gw/s640/IMG_7578.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to the Black Desert</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">The Black Desert is home to what looks like a large number of orange mountains with black speckled tops. Each mountain looked like it had recently erupted with volcanic ash. At a closer glance, I noticed that the tops of the mountains were actually comprised of large quantities of small black stones. The black stones lay across the orange-brown ground but for some reason, were concentrated towards the tops of these mountains.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TNTS2cLjGNA/TcSp2EV4crI/AAAAAAAAAZA/Qwl0G-BeSsw/s1600/IMG_7593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TNTS2cLjGNA/TcSp2EV4crI/AAAAAAAAAZA/Qwl0G-BeSsw/s640/IMG_7593.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Piling up/Jenga'ing/Tumble'ing some of the Black Desert Rocks</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">From here, we moved on to another town, which actually was in the middle of nowhere. We ate lunch and made some German friends at what seemed like one of the only buildings in town. Above the entrance, there was a hand-painted sign with the words “Welcome with you in Bedween”. The place was run by one person: a plump, cheerful widow. She had two young daughters and had recently met an Australian man who proposed to her. She had only met the man once, while he stopped over on a tour to the desert, just like me. I asked her whether she would accept his proposal. She was torn. She wanted to move to Sydney, to be away from her poverty-stricken lifestyle and to provide her daughters with a better education. On the other hand, her young daughters were reluctant to move away from home to live with a man they did not know.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qesaXw_vbA8/TcSp7Z9IOXI/AAAAAAAAAZE/LphRUgdqC0I/s1600/IMG_7599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qesaXw_vbA8/TcSp7Z9IOXI/AAAAAAAAAZE/LphRUgdqC0I/s640/IMG_7599.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Restaurant in Bedween</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mrT7vAj5IwE/TcSqCZiUIlI/AAAAAAAAAZM/-qRL6kJ7j7o/s1600/IMG_7662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mrT7vAj5IwE/TcSqCZiUIlI/AAAAAAAAAZM/-qRL6kJ7j7o/s640/IMG_7662.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruff n Tuff Landscapes</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">As we left Bedween, we drove further into the desert through a variety of terrains. We experienced some extremely bumpy rides through rugged rocky landscapes as well as slippery rides where we violently swerved left and right through fine sand. All this without a seatbelt made it even more exhilarating! One thing we could notice was that the further we drove, the lighter the landscapes became - we were well on our way to the amazing White Desert, but the sun had started setting quickly.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2mlQdYeVup8/TcSp-W2rQVI/AAAAAAAAAZI/fAZfFN1AvQg/s1600/IMG_7656.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="422" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2mlQdYeVup8/TcSp-W2rQVI/AAAAAAAAAZI/fAZfFN1AvQg/s640/IMG_7656.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sahara Sunset</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">White Desert = Next Post!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7993453228476811541.post-86951029607147866382011-04-22T00:25:00.000-07:002011-05-06T17:44:04.587-07:00Giza's Need Excitement<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: justify;">A trip to Egypt isn’t complete without a visit to one of the seven wonders of the world, the pyramids of Giza. For 100 Egyptian pounds ($16) each, C and I managed to get a driver to drive us around for a day. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our driver picked us up from central Cairo and dropped us off in a quiet street in Giza. He walked us into a small room and together, with his dear friend, a camel-tour operator, tried to rip us off. They told us that after travelling all the way to Giza, we could only access the pyramids by camel, or the more expensive option, limousine. We were agitated and knew this was part of a well-rehearsed profit-making scheme. The driver had strategically driven us to an extremely tourist-unfriendly area – there were no signs of the pyramids, other tourists, or anything in English. In other words, we didn’t want to be stranded here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UosMJfi6dd8/TbEq2GHEkhI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/7FjvCRGoEAo/s1600/IMG_7351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UosMJfi6dd8/TbEq2GHEkhI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/7FjvCRGoEAo/s640/IMG_7351.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our driver dropped us off in this street. This was where our camel tour begun.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">After bartering and paying about a quarter of the original obscene camel-riding fee, we found ourselves at the back of the building surrounded by unhealthy-looking camels. It was at this point that I deeply regretted my decision to ride these camels. I had ridden camels in Morocco just weeks before this adventure, and knew that the ones in Giza were horribly neglected – they seemed weak, malnourished and heavily scarred. Nevertheless, as we reached the desert plateau overlooking the Giza pyramids, it was a breathtaking sight. As our camel guide dropped us off at the site, he unsurprisingly tried to scam us again, asking us for an extra payment.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IcVnToH03WA/TbEq5BHAiHI/AAAAAAAAAYU/Qrtid-MsX1s/s1600/IMG_7434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IcVnToH03WA/TbEq5BHAiHI/AAAAAAAAAYU/Qrtid-MsX1s/s640/IMG_7434.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the three large pyramids of Giza</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the things to be careful about in Egypt are scams. Every time you sign up for something and agree on a price, there will undoubtedly be a reason why more money needs to be paid over at a later time. In our instance, this applied to taxi rides, tours, driver’s fees and the like. The extra payments will be for reasons such as fictional road tolls, road taxes and additional service fees.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WHTBa2Nd0e8/TbErCQNTTKI/AAAAAAAAAYg/BoI5vIjRh-g/s1600/IMG_7484.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WHTBa2Nd0e8/TbErCQNTTKI/AAAAAAAAAYg/BoI5vIjRh-g/s640/IMG_7484.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sphinx</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">A large pack of tourist buses were crowded together between the pyramids. As we walked around the pyramids, security officers warned us not to get too close. At this site, there are nine pyramids altogether. Each one is worth marvelling at. How they were constructed, I still don’t know. Unfortunately, there was no information regarding the history of the pyramids at the site. The famous Sphinx was only a few hundred metres away. It was tiny compared to the Great Pyramid of Giza and was somewhat disappointing considering how well publicised it is.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rFFilNNyB5c/TbErGy0SNhI/AAAAAAAAAYk/ZZCfbRK1s9I/s1600/IMG_7520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rFFilNNyB5c/TbErGy0SNhI/AAAAAAAAAYk/ZZCfbRK1s9I/s640/IMG_7520.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Red Pyramid of Dahshur</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Later that afternoon we drove to Dahshur to see the Bent Pyramid and the Red Pyramid. As you would expect from its name, the Bent Pyramid has bent sides. It looks funny, as if it were made by some bored kids who were no good at Jenga. I managed to delve into the centre of the Red Pyramid through a small tunnel. It was dark, hot and tiny inside…and the smells were putrid. I had never felt so claustrophobic in my life. It was an anti-climax once I made it to the end of the tunnel; there was a small room with boulders scattered around.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mZ610GO5yKU/TbErJ8jLJuI/AAAAAAAAAYo/uQNAPAcP_5g/s1600/IMG_7523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mZ610GO5yKU/TbErJ8jLJuI/AAAAAAAAAYo/uQNAPAcP_5g/s640/IMG_7523.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the entrance to the tunnel leading into the Red Pyramid...it's tiny!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">We finished off the day with a quick visit to the Step Pyramid of Djoser. That's a pyramid with six giant steps on each of its walls.</div></div>Justin Courageohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01822188403582979181noreply@blogger.com0