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The Lost Boys
Welcome to our blog! We will be writing about our adventures throughout Europe over the next half year (or longer). In case you read our title and thought "Lost Boys, wtf?" The Lost Boys are Peter Pan's followers who do not want to grow up. In order to stop the process of growing up and avoid responsibilities the Lost Boys escaped to Never Never Land. In our case Europe is our Never Never Land, a place to escape from growing up, from getting jobs, from becoming real people and having a shit ton of fun along the way!

Mark is the bobble head of the infamous Mark Bradford, father of the Bradford family. The Bradford family took me in under their wing while I lived in Indiana and so I thought I would take a piece of the along with me on this trip.

So if you find yourself being a grown up with responsibilities and are bored at work or at home, your escape is only a click away!

Thanks for reading!

-Jamie and Michael


Tuesday, July 17, 2012

What has my life come to...?

After a little over a month of living in Port Douglas, I have finally kind of settled into the good life.  The place that I work, which I shall not name, has been going through some "changes," therefore I haven't been getting very many hours.  This has been an excellent and horrible thing for me.  Horrible because I am now down to $00.90 in my bank account! (Please feel free to send charitable donations, address will be provided upon inquiring).  On the plus side I have been doing this everyday...

Wake up, walk down to the beach watch the sunrise with my line in the water.

Sometimes my buddy Freddy the Croc is on shore watching me fish.
 Of course catch some fish, but my POM (Property of her Majesty...or English) buddy has been out fishing me lately.
Pretty sure this is small Tarpon.

 Thankfully catching dinner so I can eat every night.

Nothing like eating fresh fish for Breakfast and Dinner.

 


And that my friends is my daily routine in a nutshell....I guess things could be worse??

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Weekend of Reggae and Hitchhiking


This was a weekend of firsts for me.  As many of you know I really don’t do that many “out there” kind of things to begin with.  Moving up here to Pt. Douglas is one of those things I really wanted to work on.  After some convincing, my friend and I decided to hitchhike to Reggae Festival in the mountainous rainforest town of Kurunda (Reggae capital of Australia), armed for 3 days with nothing but flip-flops and a sweatshirt.  From the place I am staying in Port Douglas, to the festival grounds in Kurunda it is about a 1 hr and 30 min drive.  Feeling apprehensive about it all, I let me friend stick out the first thumb to see the hitchhiking way.  Surprisingly, it only took about 5 cars to pass before a local girl picked us up in her convertible.

After about 15 min down the road we departed ways, and I was told I was very lucky to have been picked up in a convertible for my first successful hitchhike.  The second lift took about 5-10 minutes until a delivery driver from Cairns picked us up.  Dillon was an interesting character, really nice guy and like most Queenslander stereotypes really racist.  His story was quite interesting, he was a Mui Thai fighter (Thai Boxing), who represented Australia in several fights all over Australasia.  Mui Thai provided him the opportunity to travel outside of Oz and enjoy some experiences he wouldn’t have had otherwise.  He was forced to retire when he was knocked unconscious at a fight in Paupa New Guinea and settled in Cairns.   

The next guy to give us a lift was a local tradie, who put me on edge a bit when I noticed he had about three police reports scattered in the back seat.  Alas we made it to the festival in around two hours and one piece and not like another Australian hitch hiker story.

When we got to the festival it was set up on a beautiful billabong in the rainforest.  It was a pretty cool place to go to a reggae festival.   Who knew hippie chicks with dreads and hairy armpits could be attractive, I was taken back a bit when I saw a couple attractive hippies.  After a full day of hitch hiking and dancing we made heaps of friends and crashed in some tents where I shivered the night away.  

On the way back from the festival our first ride was from three young aboriginal girls who informed us we were there first hitchhikers they had ever picked up.  After a couple of other short rides, an aboriginal tree surgeon named TC picked us up.  TC was a great guy, from the moment we stepped into his Land Rover, he reached into the back pulled out three cold beers to share and told us some crazy stories about his days as a Pearl Diver off the west coast of Australia in Broome.  We had a couple beers along the way with TC before he dropped us off about 10 min away fom Port Douglas. TC was really nice and even invited us to a race derby at his house.  

 Our final ride was a real weirdo in a Mercedes, he was a vegan with leather seats, rings on every finger and lectured us about his the universes energy and his days as a Chinese takeaway delivery driver.  Our trip back took just a bit over 2 hours as well.
All in all it was a really cool experience, and I think I am officially addicted to hitching now.  Who knew there was such an art to it?