As many of you know, my family and I have recently returned from a year-long visit to Australia. It was an amazingly full year -- we traveled and explored; our children went to public school in Wollongong, the city in which we were living; my wife did research at a University there, making all sorts of professional contacts; I went to conventions and book festivals and met a great many Aussie writers and fans. I could write an entire book about all that we did and saw and experienced. And I might.

But for now, I thought that it might be interesting to write briefly about some of the places we saw and things we did. Some of what I'll include here is taken from an online journal we kept during our trip so that our family could keep up with what we were doing. Some of it will be new material. The pictures, with the obvious exception of those that show me, are all mine. So here it is: our experience in Australia. Enjoy.

Terminal Problems:

Let's start with a brief word about our journeys to and from Oz, because they really do say something about the level of service we Americans accept from our airlines. Originally, our itinerary for the trip to Australia called for us to fly out of Nashville and make a connection through Memphis, before we were to reach Los Angeles and switch from our domestic carrier (Northwest) to Air New Zealand. That same itinerary also called for us to have a very comfortable three hour layover in LA, so that we could change terminals, check in for our international flights, and go through security a second time at a leisurely pace.

The reality, however, turned out to be somewhat different. Northwest couldn't get a plane to Nashville to take us to Memphis, nor could they find any other way to get us to LA on one of their planes. After much back and forth, which was too convoluted to describe, we wound up flying to LA through Denver on two different airlines, Frontier and United. Frontier's flight was on time. United's was late. We arrived in LA at 10:45 pm, a mere 45 minutes before our flight to New Zealand was to take off. Our arrival terminal was across the airport from our departure terminal, and because the buses that run between the terminals promised to be too slow, we wound up running through several parking lots and a construction zone to get there. We had managed to check in to our New Zealand flight at a desk in Denver, but we had to clear security again, which proved to be nerve-wrackingly slow. Long and short: we arrived at our departure gate at 11:20 and were literally the last four people to get on the plane.

On our return to the States, we were supposed to arrive in LA, fly through Denver, and arrive in Nashville at eleven o'clock at night. We arrived in LA as planned, but once again the domestic carriers let us down. Our United flight out of LA was delayed by equipment problems (ie, the plane didn't work) and we finally arrived in Denver so late that we missed our connection to Nashville. United couldn't get us on any flight earlier than mid-afternoon the next day, so we wound up having to switch carriers again (to American) so that we could get a morning flight home. Now, without meaning to pick on the US airlines (at least not too much) I have to point out that our international flights on Air New Zealand (connections each way between LA, Auckland, and Sydney) went off without a hitch. And all our flights in Australia (Sydney to Alice Springs; Sydney to Hobart) were easy. We only had problems before we left the States and again after we got back to the States.

Back to the trip to Australia: The flight from LA to Auckland was quite long, but we all managed to get some sleep, and after nearly missing the flight, we would have happily spent twenty hours on that plane rather than just thirteen. The weird thing about the flight (any of you who have read Bill Bryson's IN A SUNBURNED COUNTRY, which chronicles his travels in Australia, might remember this) is that because you cross the International Date Line during the course of the trip, you actually lose an entire day. We left LA at 11:30 pm on August 1 (2005), flew for about half a day, and arrived in Auckland at 7:00 am on August 3. In other words, August 2 didn't exist for us. (How was it?) No complaints though. When we flew home on August 1 of this year, we actually arrived in LA earlier on the same day.

Behind the Wheel and Behind the Curve:

(Below: That's me in the Mitsubishi Lancer wagon we bought for the year. Notice where the driver's seat is located. Why would anyone build a car this way?)

Upon our arrival in Sydney, we rented a car (we later bought a used one for the year) and began a little science experiment. What happens, we wondered, when you take a jet-lagged, somewhat sleep-deprived man (let's call him David), put him in a car that has its steering wheel attached to the right side of the dashboard instead of the left, and make him drive through the streets of Sydney, Australia on the left hand side of the road? We're pleased to report that no fatalities, injuries, or property damage resulted from our research. But we did find that the ergonomics of a car's interior design do change a bit along with the orientation of the aforementioned steering wheel. This has led us to wonder whether Aussies, upon seeing the windshield wipers on the car directly in front of them begin to operate, despite blue skies and brilliant sunshine, know instinctively that the driver is a jet-lagged, slightly sleep-deprived Yank who intends to turn left at the next intersection. We also wonder if it is this instinct, as opposed to simple fear, that causes them to slow down accordingly. Further inquiry is warranted....

It actually didn't take my wife and me long to adjust to driving on the left hand side of the road. When everyone else does it and everything is oriented that way, you just make the adjustment. Occasionally we'd pull out and start down the wrong side of the road, but upon seeing an oncoming car, we'd immediately realize our mistake and swerve over to the right (meaning correct) side. We scared the you-know-what out of a few Aussie drivers that way, but I'm sure they got over it eventually. The hardest things about the driving were little. Both of us kept on turning on the wipers when we meant to use the turn signal. We also found ourselves walking around the car to get in on the left side, only to realize that we were supposed to sit on the right in order to drive. (We called this "Having an American Moment.") My wife often mixed up left and right when giving me directions, for the simple reason that in Australia right turns are across traffic; left turns aren't. So we'd come to an intersection and she'd want me to turn across the oncoming lanes, and she'd automatically say, "Turn left here," though she'd mean, "Turn right." It got to the point where I'd ask her, "Do you mean an Australian left or an American left?" For my part, I did fine driving forward on the wrong side of the car, but I never got comfortable driving in reverse, and so my parallel parking totally sucked. I simply could not park straight -- it became a family joke. The one time I did manage to park straight my wife asked me if I was drunk.....

Another thing about the driving, and I should preface this by saying that Australians are, for the most part, wonderful people. They're friendly, they're considerate, they're generous. That is, until they get behind the wheel. Then, suddenly, they're total jerks. Other names leap to mind as well, but we'll leave it at jerks and keep the "G" rating. They honk at you for nothing. They'd just as soon flip you the bird as look at you. They creep right up behind you at 98 kilometers per hour and flash their brights because you're not doing 100. I grew up in New York. My wife and I both lived in California's Bay Area for several years. We've spent time in Los Angeles, Boston, London, and several other big cities, and none of the drivers we've encountered in any of those places are any worse, or any more aggressive, or any more obnoxious than the drivers in Australia. In fact, in a way Oz was worse, because it was so unexpected. In New York, you expect the drivers to be jerks, because they're pretty much all jerks outside of their cars as well. But the people in Australia have this collective Jekyll-and-Hyde thing going and it's kind of disturbing. Apparently there's a reason why Aussies gave us the "Mad Max" movies.

Our Aussie Backyard:

Wollongong, located eighty kilometers (fifty miles) south of Sydney, is a friendly, clean city with a beautiful stretch of coastline along the shores of the Tasman Sea. It is not nearly as large as Sydney, nor does it claim to be anything more than it is -- an industrial town, with a fine, medium-sized University, and some very nice restaurants and shops. We spent a good deal of time exploring the waterfront, especially Wollongong's lovely North Beach, a crescent shaped strand of soft, pale sands and low, rugged rock outcroppings. During the course of our year in Australia we returned to North Beach again and again, sometimes to swim and play in the sand, sometimes to gather shells or watch albatrosses and shearwaters wheeling and gliding over the surf. We saw whales there more than once, and we even spent our Christmas at the beach, eating shrimp and fresh strawberries, using the boogie board that Santa brought our girls, and swimming in the warm waters. (Having experienced Christmas in summer, I can tell you that there is indeed something better than a white Christmas.)

For the first half of our stay, we lived in the town of Gwynneville, right near the University of Wollongong, where my wife was doing the research. The Uni grounds are both attractive and impressive, with modern buildings of brick and glass, large tracts of Eucalyptus woodland, a small duck pond, and a broad open green. We were able to walk to the Uni, as well as to the public school our children attended. During the second half of the year, we moved north of the city, to the small village of Woonona, another suburb of Wollongong. Our house here was a bit less convenient -- it was a ten kilometer drive to the Uni and the girls' school -- but it was up on the slope of the escarpment that overlooks the Illawara Basin, on a quiet, wooded street that was more scenic than our first neighborhood.

(Below: Looking back across Sydney Harbor toward Circular Quay. That's the Harbour Bridge on the right and the Opera House on the left.)

The best part of living in the Wollongong area was its relative proximity to so many great places. We were only an hour and half from Sydney by either train or car, and we made the trip several times. Most of our visits centered in the Circular Quay area near the Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge (Aussie spelling). We even managed to see a production of Mozart's "The Magic Flute" in the Opera House, which was fabulous -- and I don't even like opera. We also spent time in the city's wonderful botanical garden and in the coastal suburb of Manly.

(Below: Seven Mile Beach, on the Illawara Coast south of Wollongong.)

Living in Wollongong, we also had access to the entire Illawara Coast, which stretches from Royal National Park, just south of Sydney, all the way down to the border of New South Wales and Victoria. The coastline is dotted with national parks, spectacular beaches, scenic lighthouses, and charming coastal villages. We frequented the southern shores, spending a great deal of time in the lovely town of Kiama, tidepooling and beach combing in several national parks (Booderee, Seven Mile Beach, Murramurang, Eurobodalla), and visiting some of the areas just inland from the coast, including the wonderful Minnamurra Rainforest.

(Below: A view of the Blue Mountains near Katoomba.)

On those rare occasions when we grew tired of the coast, we ventured into the Blue Mountains and the Southern Highlands, which were also quite accessible from Wollongong. The Blue Mountains are so named because, especially in the summer, oils from the vast tracts of Eucalyptus forests there form a vapor that lends a deep blue cast to the skies and mountain vistas. We spent a good deal of time in the Blues, visiting the villages of Katoomba, Lithgow, and Black Heath and hiking in Blue Mountain National Park. We also visited Carrington Falls in Budderoo National Park, Fitzroy Falls in Morton National Park, and the areas around Berrima, Bundanoon, and Moss Vale. All were beautiful, all were easy day trips from our home.

The Aussie SF/Fantasy Scene:

As I mentioned before, Aussies are (when not driving) incredibly kind, generous, and thoughtful. We were fortunate enough to make a number of wonderful friends while we were there. My wife met many people through her work at the Uni, our daughters made lots of friends at school, and we made a good many other friends simply through the ins and outs of everyday life. But I also had the opportunity to attend several events involving Australia's vibrant speculative fiction community.

Australia's population is less than one tenth that of the United States, so naturally, its speculative fiction community is far smaller as well. As a result, everyone knows everyone else. There is a remarkable comraderie among the various writers, even across subgenre lines. And given the chance to welcome a strange (meaning "unknown" as opposed to "odd", though both apply...) American writer into their community, they did so without hesitation. At the book festival I attended in Sydney (Magic Casements) and again at the conventions -- Conjure in Brisbane and Conflux in Canberra -- I was placed on several panels, given an opportunity to read from my books, and encouraged to attend every other event, both formal and informal. Few people knew of my work -- I don't have a separate Aussie publisher, and so my books have to get to Oz from Tor's American distributors; not an easy proposition. Still, even without being familiar with my books, everyone was incredibly kind, generous, and open.

Judging from the number of authors I met, and the quality of the writing that I found there, it seems that Australia is an amazingly fertile place for science fiction and fantasy. There's a reason why so many Australian writers -- Terry Dowling, Trudi Canavan, Sean Williams, Sean McMullen, Sara Douglass, Fiona McIntosh, Kate Forsyth, Garth Nix, Scott Westerfeld just to name a few -- are enjoying such success here in the States as well as in Europe. Is there a uniquely Australian voice in speculative fiction? I'm not certain. I know that a good deal of what I've read seems to be shaped by the Aussie landscape or by the country's dark early history, so in that way, there may well be. But it's certainly true that Australian fantasists and science fiction writers are enormously talented. It's easy, living in the U.S., to ignore writers who ply their craft beyond our borders. There are many fine writers here, and even the most devoted writer might easily fill day and night only reading home-grown authors. I would urge all of you not to make that mistake. Explore with your reading, and start with some of my friends in Oz.

Conventions in Australia are a bit different from those in the States, particularly when it comes to programming and the expectations for those who will be speaking on panels. In the States, a program participant may learn prior to attending the convention which panels he or she will be on. Occasionally, most often on World Con panels, the panel moderator might send out an email giving some indication of where he or she intends to lead the discussion. Certainly, moderators come to panels armed with discussion questions to help move the conversation along. This, though, is usually the limit of expected pre-panel preparation.

In Australia, on the other hand, panel moderators make a point of contacting their fellow panelists ahead of time, and soliciting from them detailed biographies, as well as at least brief statements outlining their perspective on the topic at hand. Participants are often expected to prepare an opening statement of two or three minutes laying out their opinions. These statements, as well as the moderator's prepared questions, then form the basis for the subsequent discussion. In short, panel participants in Oz have homework, and they're expected to get it done! As one might expect, Aussie panel discussions are brisk and very interesting. I don't think any of the panels I was on ever languished or foundered. People on the panel came prepared to speak, and I sensed that people in the audience came to the discussions expecting no less from those of us on the other side of the table.

All in all, the Australian conventions I attended were tremendously fun. I came away from them feeling that I had learned from the writers I met there, that the discussions in which I took part were every bit as educational for me as they were for those in the audience. I also came away from the conventions feeling that I had a whole new set of professional friends and colleagues. Some of them I've already seen here in the States at World Fantasy Convention. I hope to see more of them at other cons, and I look forward to returning to Australia and attending their conventions again.