One fish two fish

One of the major downsides of going abroad to Australia fall semester is missing out on all the autumn festivities in Richmond. I imagine the leaves around Westhampton Lake are incredible right now, I miss all the festive drinks at 8:15 and I’m really sad that I will not be home to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. However, one of the major highlights of being abroad in the southern hemisphere is getting to celebrate Spring Break twice!

Last March, I hopped into the car for a road trip down to Pompano Beach, Florida, with three of my friends. We spent the week tanning by the pool, took a day trip to South Beach, went out to eat and relaxed after our busy semester. It was warm and refreshing to get away for a few days, but it did not compare in the slightest to my spring break in Australia. A few of my flatmates and I embarked on the craziest week of our lives. We booked a trip called "One Fish Two Fish" through a company called Extreme Adventures. The website advertises the trip as “The Spring Break of a lifetime,” and they sure do deliver. Our guide started off the trip by saying, “For some of you, this will be the most fun you will ever have in your life.”

Over the course of nine days we traveled more than a thousand miles up the eastern coast of Australia from Brisbane to Cairns. On the first day we hopped onto a bus and headed to the Australia Zoo where I held a koala and watched Terri, Bindi and Robert Irwin in the crocodile show. From there we drove to Rainbow Beach where we watched a breathtaking sunset from the sandblow. The next day we rode in a few massive vehicles out to Fraser Island and drove inland to Lake Mckenzie, a crystal clear freshwater lake in the middle of the island. The water was infused with eucalyptus oil, the guide told us, so it would actually soften and moisturize your hair and skin. Needless to say, we swam for quite a bit. After a long bus ride up to Whitsunday, we took a speed boat across the blue water, snorkeled and then basked on Whitehaven Beach for the afternoon, which was hands down the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. The sand was white as sugar and only enhanced the beautiful contrast with the blue. We then spent the night at a private island resort before hopping on a private yacht to cruise around Whitsunday the next day.

After a relaxing and sunburned few days, we embarked on the most adrenaline-packed 48 hours of my life. Our bus arrived at the Tully River which is about two hours from Cairns. My group had a fantastic guide as we whitewater-rafted for the majority of the day. Our guide intentionally flipped us all out of the boat as we went down a rapid backwards. I had been whitewater rafting before, but the Tully River was absolutely phenomenal with its lengthy rapids and variety of difficulty. However, the rapids were a mere precursor to the following day. We signed up to try and leap to our deaths from a plane 14,000 feet in the air early the next morning. If I was going to skydive, I figured I might as well do it in Australia.

The plane took off, but I had not started panicking quite yet. Then the plane ascended up…and up…and up…and then my guide told me we were at 4,000 feet, the height he would deploy the parachute…and up…and up…and up…at which point I started to freak out a bit. This fear hit the roof when the door to the plane opened, and I began watching my friends move to jump out. Thank goodness there was a person strapped to me, otherwise I would not have been able to jump, or rather, roll out of the plane. I was entirely unprepared for how intense the wind was on my face, and even more so, how loud it was. We fell for 10,000 feet before my savior, Ben, pulled the parachute. From there I was able to really enjoy the scenery, the mountains, the fields and the ocean, as he let me control the parachute for a bit of our descent. I gave that man a huge hug when we landed and my legs finally stopped shaking. I have never had quite the adrenaline rush that I had after skydiving, but my fears were not truly tested until later that day.

That afternoon our tour headed off to bungee jump just outside of Cairns. There was a swing where three people lay side by side and were dropped from 45 meters to swing to and fro in addition to the traditional bungee jump. We started with the swing as a stepping stone toward leaping off a 164 foot platform. I had the unfortunate responsibility of pulling the cord which would drop the three of us once we completed our ascent. Even with this control, my stomach plummeted as we flew forward hitting 120 kph. At the opposite top of the arc, beyond the rows of trees, was a vast view of the valley below. It was terrifying and incredible all at once. But then there was still the mack-daddy, the bungee jump. I went into this trip with the mentality that I had to try everything, so I knew I had to do it.

We began climbing up to the platform on shaking steps that did little to calm our nerves. After a bit of waiting at the top, one of the guides called my name. I was hoping so badly that someone else’s name was Ellie, but, tragically, he was looking for me. He gave me a harness, wrapped my legs up and then asked me to shuffle-hop to the edge of the platform. “This is it,” I thought to myself. “I am actually going to die. Or pee my pants in front of all these people.” I began to vocalize my fears to the guide, who, bless his little heart, probably had months of training in how to convince petrified Americans to jump off the equivalent of 16 stories. I had every intention of doing some sort of dive, but I am pretty sure I just hurled myself off the ledge to the pool below. It was not my most graceful effort, but I was so proud of myself for completing it. I had befriended a woman from Germany earlier in the trip, and we had skydived together that morning. We spent the rest of the evening joking about how many thousands of feet we had fallen that day. Good ol’ One Fish Two Fish.

Despite the insanity of the days before, my favorite part of the entire excursion was our trip to the Great Barrier Reef. I struggled with motion sickness the entire trip, and the boat ride out to the reef was the worst by far. Still, scuba diving under the ocean was the most rewarding experience of my life. Our time beneath the water was brief because the guides had to be sure everyone took a turn, but it was incredible. I saw Nemo. I saw some sort of plant that appeared to be breathing. I saw the most colorful, beautiful fish. It truly is an entirely different world down there. After we took our turn scuba diving we were able to snorkel and explore other parts of the reef. Despite the sea sickness, I was sad to leave such an amazing place.

I had several friends recommend this trip to me long before I actually went abroad, and it was absolutely the greatest thing I have done since arriving in Australia. But it was not just the fun activities, the awesome new friends or the wondrous places that made the trip so memorable. It was the idea behind the trip. The bungee place’s slogan was “Everyday…do something that reminds you you’re still alive!” Now, I am not suggesting nor implying the practicality of doing something as extreme as bungee jumping on a regular basis, but I am suggesting something milder. I encourage you, abroad or not, to look for something amazing in every day. It is so easy to lose yourself in mundane routines, but it would be much more fulfilling to strive to do something profound daily. This could be getting up early to run as the sun rises, treating yourself to a local play or even trying out a new bizarre recipe for dinner. For some of you, this will be the most fun you will ever have in your life. Well, I most certainly hope that is not the case. I hope to lead a life more fulfilling than just my weekends and vacations. I know I have a limited amount of time abroad and I wish to maximize all of it. But I think the problem is not limited to one’s time away, it exists in our home lives too. Your time alive is equally as limited. I encourage you to make the most of it.

Contact reporter Elizabeth Potter at elizabeth.potter@richmond.edu