Armidale, amirite?

It is my own traveler’s belief that you never really know a place until you see the countryside, even if it’s just for a few hours. Cities cater to tourists and they have their time and place, but real life is in the suburbs or the rural areas.

Enter Armidale. Now, considering Australia has a big, huge, massive empty center, this place wasn’t rural in the exact sense, but it was smaller than Sydney and significantly smaller than the Tokyo/Saitama hyper metropolis. In the end however, this turned out to be a wonderful side adventure.

I landed at the airport, walked off the tiny plane across the tarmac and into a terminal that was roughly the size of my house.

“Oh, so it’s that kind of place,” I thought.

As soon as my friend J walked through the door, with a big  grin plastered on his face, I knew the next few days would be fantastic regardless of how small a town I had put myself in.

My time spent with J and his lovely family (plus adorable dog) was incredible-for so many reasons. It was relaxing, rejuvenating and insightful. J himself is one of those people that I just clicked with when I first met him in Japan. We both have a love for history and share a sarcastic, dry sense of humor; we spent a lot of time nerding out or quoting film and television lines to one another (A noteworthy example: Pretty much every line from the episode of The Simpsons where Bart has to go to Australia to pay a fine. It’s hilarious. Watch it).  We did a lot of reading. We did a lot of napping. We did a lot of chatting. We did a lot of eating (Oh sweet holy Buddha, the Lamington cakes…). We drank copious amounts of tea (Dear heavenly Batman, the peppermint tea...). We did a lot of walking. Nothing clears the head and soothes the heart like walking.

We walked from here...

...to here!

Except for that moment when I thought I lost my camera and all the photos I’d taken in Australia and San Diego. I needn’t have worried though, it was hiding in the dog’s bed and was mailed to me a few weeks later.  

No, J didn’t make me sleep in the dog’s bed! I was just petting and cuddling Bundy after watching a teary film about an Australia dog (“Red Dog”, if you feel like crying) when it fell unnoticed from my pocket and was buried in the sheets.

J and the camera thief, Bundy

What was supposed to be a 3 day stay turned into a week long-hang out. Because of the camera fiasco, I put off driving to the coast for a day and J decided to come with me, which meant cancelling my rental car and saving a ton of money. So I got to stay another day in his house, enjoying his mama’s fine English/Southern hospitality all the while. I saw my first rugby match (and had no idea what was going on aside from grimacing every time someone was tackled or thrown halfway across the field), read some hilarious ANZAC comics, and generally just dossed about.

And every minute of it was beautiful.