Getting my boots past security
I just spent 2 hours scrubbing mud out of the soles of my hiking boots. My hard-earned mud.I leave for New Zealand in the morning and they are scary-serious about quarantine and not tracking (foreign) muddy footprints across their shiny linoleum. So serious are they that there is a show here, Border Patrol, that is not about illegal immigration. No, it's about getting past customs in New Zealand. Yeah.
I gave up after two hours of scrubbing. There're still little bits of mud in the soles, but I give up. It's just Aussie soil. Hopefully, they won't mind.
The reason my boots were mud-covered is that last Sunday Eric, Sarah, and I went hiking in the Dandenong Mountains. How awesome is this: a Sunday special lets us take all the way out to the farthest zone for $2.50. That's all I spent all day. And we had a great big day. Up and down mountains. Muddymuddymuddy in parts. Lots of uphill. Lots of steepness. And one dead thing. Or rather half of a dead thing. So nasty was it that I ran 10 feet up a ridiculously steep hill at the very end of the day. "What is that sme...!? (sees curled bird-like legs and claws, though Eric says is was something furrier) Ohmigodohmigod EW!" Earlier, Eric had walked up ahead of us on the hill and Sarah and I saw him bend over and move some branches from one side of the path to the other. Couldn't figure out what he was doing. Then we figured it out.
Other than that: lots of fun mud, waterfalls, exotic birds, trees, ferns, spiderwebs, barking dogs on the properties at the edges of the park, paperbag lunches, random pub and art gallery, marked paths, unmarked paths, Puffing Billy, peeling bark, peeing in bushes, lyre birds, altitude changes, and stinking up the train on the way back to the city.
posted by Halley @ 10:58 AM
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