Things I've learned..

This is how Melbourne recognizes Australia's most famous band. ACDC Lane is near Swanston St. where the rock legends performed on the back of a truck in the video for "Long Way to the Top." There's probably a street named after Olivia Newton John somehwere in the country, too. Australia honours those who bring it fame, I've learned.

Other knowledge I've picked up here is a little more practical, like how to identify poisonous spiders. Whitetails, which seem to be common in my brother's house, don't kill but their bite leaves scar tissue. There are even spiders here that feed on birds. Fortunately, they live in holes in the backyard and don't come inside.

I've also learned Australia is expensive. The Australian dollar is worth roughly the same as the Canadian loonie but restaurant meals cost about double what they do at home. Doughnuts here start at $2.50. The last time I visited Tim Hortons, you could get an apple fritter and a small coffee for less than that.

What other things have I learned in Australia? I've discovered that Rotary Club members sing when they say grace before their dinner meetings (or at least the ones at my brother's club do, which was pretty neat). I've also learned -- and I'm still working on this one -- that the Australian $2 coin is smaller than the $1 one.

But the best thing I've learned about Australia is that everything, aside from sports, seems casual. Aussies have mastered getting work done efficiently while still looking relaxed. The casual attitude has the additional benefit that shorts and sleeveless shirts are accepable almost everywhere here, although I admit this might have something to do with the oven-like heat.

And last but not least I've learned in Australia that -- as ACDC put it -- it's a long way to the top if you wanna rock 'n roll.

Safe in Aus..

My brother welcomed me at his house in Bathurst, Australia this week. It's peaceful here -- drivers never honk their horns. And for the first time in three months I don't have to lie on immigration forms about what I do for a living. (I'm a journalist, for any of you who don't know.) In the Middle East, I always wrote "bicycle repair" when asked about my occupation.

During the trip from Lebanon to Australia, I worried something would stop me. I woke up in Beirut on the morning of my flight to the sound of a jet fighter tearing accross the sky. I looked out the window to see if it was Israeli, knowing that if it was, I wouldn't be going anywhere that day.

Later at Beirut airport, takeoff was delayed due to a fight in the rear of the cabin which didn't end until an old woman was escorted off. This meant the airline had to hold our connecting flight in Abu Dhabi, and when that plane was late touching down in Sydney, passengers refused to stay seated while the interior was sprayed for foreign insects. Immigation wouldn't let us off until the spraying was finished, and it couldn't start until everyone sat. The standoff lasted nearly half an hour. One indignant passenger even phoned the Sydney Telegraph's newsroom on her mobile and claimed we were all "being held hostage."

So here I am in small-town Australia. I've got a bike to noodle around on and soon my brother and I will board a train to see the country together. There's not much to worry about here except for sunburn.

Oh, and poisonous spiders.

Beirut..

Amid all the Radisson hotels, Ferrari dealerships and Dunkin Donuts springing up in Beirut, there are still bullet and artillery-pocked buildings that were abandoned during past conflicts. There are so many there's even a coffee-table book about them for sale at the Virgin Megastore.

The granddaddy of them all is the former Holiday Inn. It wasn't open long before the civil war began in 1975 and it hasn't been open since. It's still solid, but at almost 30 storeys, I'm guessing it's too big for most investors to risk restoring. At least, not until the political and financial future of Lebanon looks more secure.

Will that day come? I met a restaurant owner in southern Lebanon who confidently told me he believes the next war with Israel will be the last. He said the two sides can never live together, and that his side will "finish Israel."

"Won't another war ruin your business?" I asked. "What about your children?"

"It will be better after," he replied.

The conversation was a downer, but I remain optimistic about peace. There's a lot of building going on here. Others must be optimistic, too.

The Dance Bus...

This is the second time in the Middle East that I've seen a mode of transport become a dance venue. The latest incident was while I was catching a bus ride from the Roman ampitheatre ruins at Bosra to Damascus with some Syrian university students. (See an earlier post titled "Istanbul" for the story of dancing on a train with Iranians.)

Dancing on the Syrian bus began in the aisle almost immediately and I and a group of fellow travellers were urged to participate. Not only was it a blast, it allowed us to observe some of the rules for interaction between men and women in Syria. For instance, the Syrian men on our bus could dance with female foreigners and Syrian women could dance with me and other male travellers, but Syrian men and women couldn't dance with each other. The reason, it was explained, was that dancing with foreigners was considered innocent fun while dancing between Syrians could potentially lead to something more serious. News of such behavior could get back to the dancers' families and cause problems.

At one point while I was dancing, I landed in an empty seat next to a young Syrian woman who was wearing a hejab. Men and women in Syria who aren't related don't sit next to each other, and the woman was visibly uncomfortable until the aisle cleared of dancers and I could move. A Kiwi in our group who was asked to have his picture taken with some of the Syrian women made the mistake of putting his arm around one of them. She stood rigid, not knowing what to do, and you should have seen the look on her face!

It all sounds frustrating to me, but that's just the way it's done here.

This is my last post from Syria. I'm on my way to Lebanon and will be flying from Beirut to Australia to visit my brother on Nov. 11. I've been promised homemade shepherd's pie upon my arrival Down Under!