Chapter 1
Getting Ready


Growing up, I was always shy and quiet. My grades in school were good, but I didn't have too many friends and I never talk to girls. After being accepted to a major university, I was excited at the prospect of starting from scratch. I thought that college would be a place where I could make some true friends, meet a special girl, and really enjoy life for the first time.

I was wrong. For the most part, I kept to myself, depressed and frustrated with the people around me. I wondered if I would ever be able to find genuine friends, and I wondered if real life would ever get better than high school or college. Surrounded by film geeks and frat jocks, I had a hard time finding normal people to socialize with, so I spent most of my time cooped up in my dorm room and on my computer, chatting to people from around the world who I would never meet. The Internet was still kind of a new thing, and I was an Internet junkie.

Every once in a while, I'd be chatting with someone who claimed to be a celebrity. Some of them were easy to spot as fakes. A few pointed questions, and you'd know you weren't talking to Brad Pitt or Heather Graham. But I think I did have a few conversations that were genuine. With Mindy Cohn, former star of "The Facts of Life" who had become a phone sex operator in the Los Angeles area, Cheri Oteri, star of "Saturday Night Live" who was testing out new jokes with me and being pretty obnoxious, and movie star Claire Danes. When I talked to Claire, I was so convinced that it was her that when she offered to call me, I accepted. We talked briefly and I was pretty confident that it was really her. But I wasn't 100% sure.

At a college graduation party, I stood in the middle of a group of graduates, each of them talking about their best college experiences. So many of them had spent a semester abroad, each one saying it was an amazing experience. And so many of them had gone to Australia.

Australia. I had always wondered about Australia. I stood there silently, wondering to myself, ‘Shit, what have I missed out on?' I really regretted not taking the chance to study abroad for a semester or two. Was it too late? Would I ever get the chance to travel again?

After graduation, I returned home to Houston and found work at a local camera store. It wasn't the most fulfilling job, but the money was OK and it was a way to pass the time until something better came along. New Year's 2000 was creeping closer, and it seemed like everyone had something nutty planned for the millennium celebration. I continued to wonder about Australia.

The first real inklings of a trip came in October 1999. I had no obligations to anyone or anything at home, and I figured that it might be a good time to do it. Who knows when a dream job or dream girl might tie me down forever. I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity that solitude had given me. Why not?

When I mentioned my idea to friends and family, they didn't seem to care much, either because they didn't think I would actually do it or they simply didn't care. I even invited a few of them to come along with me, but they said they were too busy or that they would "think about it."

So I would go to Australia alone. I had never done any real traveling, and I wasn't sure what I was getting into. I was thrilled and scared at the same time.

Tthe first step was getting a plane ticket. I decided to go to Sydney for two months, just enough time to celebrate New Year's and do some sightseeing. I scoured the Internet for affordable airfares, but the cheapest ticket for a two-month stay was about $2000. I needed some quick cash, so I decided to sell my Transformers.

These were the toys of my childhood. I had hundreds of them, and I had saved them all because they had meant so much to me growing up. They were packed away neatly in boxes and in great condition (except for Megatron, which my friend Mike had broken into five pieces when I was ten years old).

But now there was a greater purpose. I unpacked them all and sold them, one by one, to collectors on eBay. I got my cash, and I bought my ticket.

Next, I had to get a visa. They won't admit you into Australia without one. I went to the Australian Consulate in Houston where I applied for a Working Holiday visa, which would allow me to stay and work in Australia for up to a year. The application required me to write places I intended to visit, so I wrote down "Bondi Beach," having seen the name on a brochure somewhere. The beefy officer behind the bullet-proof glass laughed and said I didn't have a clue before placing a visa sticker in my passport and handing it back to me.

Then I got an in-depth "Let's Go" travel guide. I didn't want too much information about Australia because I had a desire to discover everything on my own. New places should be fresh and exciting. But since I would only be down there for two months, I wanted to make sure that I hit all of the important attractions. And it was also for insurance. I wanted something to refer to if I really got into trouble.

I knew that I was going to take a million pictures down there, so I carefully packed my trusty Nikon N6006 and a slew of lenses. By that time, I was getting pretty good at photography, and I knew that taking personal and unique pictures would be the best way to remember my trip forever.

I quit my job on Christmas Eve and spent Christmas Day packing my stuff. I decided to use one of my brother's enormous hockey bags for all of my clothes, a smaller bag for my travel stuff, and a new black backpack for my laptop and photography equipment.

When the day came, my mom and stepfather drove me to the airport. I sat in the back seat, shaking with excitement. I knew I was doing something really cool. After a hug and a handshake, I picked up my bags, turned to the boarding ramp, and started walking. And smiling.

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