From the Antipodean Files: Signs, signs, everywhere are signs

As some of you noted in yesterday’s post, there is some very, very interesting signage Down Under. In fact, as I noticed this curious and entertaining phenomenon, I made it a point to take pictures of some of the fabulous signs we saw during out travels.

So today I am going to do a bit of boring you with pictures from my Antipodean Adventures. However, just to keep you on your toes, I’m going to bury some industry information in with the pictures. though mostly, just for fun. After all, this is Diana’s Diversions.

Okay, first up, we have this little beauty. Now, as you all know, a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, the synopsis of those thousand words adds up to me saying “my sore ass that trail was 7.6 km! It was 15 if it was an inch, and I have the GPS tracking coordinates to prove it!”

Ahem, we later figured out that we’d done all of the trails listed on the sign without realizing it.

This was really early in our trip. By the end of the journey, we were thinking that 15 kilometeres was a bit of a wander, and didn’t even break a sweat ’til we hit thirty.

Which of course, ought to remind us all of those times when we think we understand what an editorial letter is saying, but can’t see the signposts because they’re hidden under all that bramble and head off on some completely overwrought rejection, when all they meant was “no, just a little less subtle on this page.” But then we learn our lesson. If we’re ever unclear about what we’re supposed to be revising, a question in time saves nine pages of rewrites.

There are a lot of “danger” signs in Australia. Man, that’s a dangerous country. But don’t take my word for it. Ask Bill Bryson. He wrote a whole book about how deadly Australia is.

I wish I could show you how brilliant this whole picture is. The part I cut out showed Sailor Boy making a “shocked” face, but what the really fascinating thing about this shot is, almost directly beyond the trees are kids diving into the water exactly the same was the sign tells you not to. Come on, guys! It was using the international symbol for NO and everything!

And there have been drownings here, too. I can’t believe people would still be risking it.

This image reminds me of people who know better who still sign up with scam agents. People who act in ignorance I can understand. But it seems like everyday I hear another story of a person who you think is very savvy about this industry ignoring all advice, all warnings, all big freaking red signs in four languages as well as symbology telling you NOT to do something… because… why exactly? Because it looks like fun? Because you think that submerged rock and that strong current can’t hurt you? Or that maybe it can, but you just want to swim so badly, you’ll do anything, even this. Hmmm…

(For the record, we kept hiking until we got to the approved swimming hole.)

Moving on. Here I am at the Christchurch Anarctic Research Center, where they have a blizzard room to test your mettle against the elements of the harsh South Pole.

Have I mentioned recently what a Floridian, warm-weather wimp I am? Cold is so not my thing. I could never spend a season in Antarctica, like Liz Maverick did.

I can’t believe i managed to smile so widely for this photo. If you look closely, you can see that it’s a little over one degree Farenheit in there, and the wind is blowing! This is why my hood is up. If you could see Sailor Boy, you’d see that his hood is down. He’s standing on the Celsius side.

This picture reminds me that it’s never possible to achieve great undertakings without taking enormous risks and putting yourself through, yes, some pain. The pain of cold nights, cold rejections, cold, penguin-slaying blizzards roaring across the plain… if you want it, you gotta fight the terror of the most desolate place on earth and emerge victorious in the Antarctic dawn.

At least, I’m sure that’s what I would have thought if I’d actually been in Antarctica, rather than just in a simulation at a museum.

But there was one sign that beat all others. One sign that proved the epitome of all signs, everywhere. One sign that, thereafter, Sailor Boy and I took as our own, personal mottos: