messages

It is always neat when the book that you are reading has a message that is relevant to events in your own life.
Last week, my pump, like the Toronto transit workers, walked out. It began to protest. After phone calls, emails and international collaboration a replacement pump is on its way. All is well on the diabetes front. However, a situation such as this is always a little stressful, especially when it means changing travel plans and the schedules of two others. The inevitable ‘why me?’ question raised its ugly head. “Why do I have deal with this?”

Last night, I read the last chapter of ‘Mutant Message Down Under’. The book was written by an American woman who went, unknowingly at first, on a walkabout with an Aboriginal tribe in Australia’s outback. There was a paragraph that reached out to me. Marlo Morgan was describing how this particular tribe of Aboriginal bush people interpret disease.

“There should be no suffering by any creature except what they accept for themselves. That was a thought to ponder. The elder explained that each individual soul on the highest level of our being could, and sometimes did, select to be born into an imperfect body; they often came to teach and influence the lives they touched. All diseases and disorders, they believe, have some spiritual connection and serve as stepping-stones if people would only open up and listen to their bodies to learn what is taking place”.

Hum…that would mean that all of us ‘Diabetic Souls’ have something in common, other than just daily routines of blood glucose management. It would mean that we have a greater duty then just ‘dealing’ with our own malfunctioning pancreases, that we have insight into valuable information about the human body that needs to be learned, taught and shared.

Whoa! Kind of heavy for a Monday morning! But it made me look at last week in a new light…there is much to learn from my pumping experience on the under side of the world, as well as much to share.

Now I just have to figure out the message behind loosing my medic alert bracelet in the ocean.

Waves

Speaking of ‘Big Things”…some of the waves crashing here on the East Coast of Australia are

B-I-G.

The first few times we went in the water I was a bit nervous and hesitant…and not just because of the Great White sharks and deadly jellyfish. The waves are huge! And the idea of being crumpled like a rag doll in a washing machine wasn’t the most appealing… for me at least. (Rob seemed to really enjoy the idea).
I spent the first few days in the water fighting the suction of the ocean, bracing against crashing waves and staying close to shore where most of the waves had already broken (and where there was the option of fast retreat).
I think Kath said it best the other day…when we were out in the water we were like two squirrels attempting to cross the road. Each time a big one rolled in we would got through the same process…GO! NO! NOW! YES! NO! Damn it! GO! RETREAT!!!

This tactic expended a lot of energy and more often than not ended in the less-than-favourable outcome that we had been trying so hard to avoid. My favourite piece of evidence that the tactic had not worked, was the pony tail relocation- when you came up from the frothing pile of water and found that your pony tail had moved from the back of your head to above your left ear.

After a few good pummellings, I have learned that indecision is one’s worst enemy in the water…closely followed by hesitation.

Even though every muscle and brain cell may be telling you otherwise, it is in fact much easier to swim directly towards the wall of water and dive straight into the face of it, or cruise right over the top just as it breaks. Either way, with very little effort you emerge unscathed on the other side.
A good life lesson…confronting the things that scare you head on, without hesitation. Not wasting energy on trying to skirt around them or retreat. Easier said than done. But after the first narrow miss in the water, the first time you feel the power of the wave surge over or beneath you as it thunders past, confidence starts to grow, soon those waves aren’t big enough and you start walking down the beach looking for more.

Australia...driving me bananas!

On our long drive up the coast we took the opportunity to stretch our legs at the Big Banana!

As we were heading back to Howard, I stopped to read a small plaque on the path about the history of the Big Banana. In 1964, John Landy wanted to attract more attention to his road-side banana stall, blah blah blah, engineer, blah blah blah, construction, blah blah blah, biggest banana in the world...then came this statement which just drove me bananas!

"BIG THINGS are now a form of artistic expression unique to Australia"

Huh? Excuse me?

The sign was dated 2004. Does Australia really believe that they are the inventors of Big Things? AND...do they really think that as of 2004 Big Things were still (if ever they were) unique to Australia?

Well, you can imagine my disbelief!
Canada has many many many big things dating back to before the 1960's.
My reseach has revealed that Wawa, Ontario's Big Goose was constructed in 1960.
Kenora, Ontario's Big Husky the Muskie was constructed even earlier in 1951!!
And that's just the start of it....for anyone that would like to contest, please refer to www.bigthings.ca there is also an Aussie website www.bigthings.com.au ...how original.

High Quality H2O

We left Sydney and headed north, up the East Coast in search water and waves.
We should have been more specific in what we were asking for…the aftermath of those big swells from the previous day made for lots of water, however the majority of it was coming from the sky (and through the floor of the van) from the waves on the road.

We stopped in at a visitor center for some insight and ideas of what to see along the drive.
“Oh, there is a great back road that takes you to….oh, but it will be washed out right now”
“And there is a great lookout at…yeah, but you won’t be able to see that today”
“On a sunny day this beach right here is…”
“When the weather is nice…”

So we kept driving…for two days…all the way to Byron Bay...where the weather finally started to break and we finally got the water and waves we had been searching for.

This video is from Byron Bay...our first taste of playing in some big waves.

NOTE: Just after posting this entry we realized that the opening image is somewhat 'revealing'...I couldn't figure out how to sensor Rob's behind out of this video...oops...don't look you cheeky bum lookers!!!

Sydney

We left Simon and the Aussie bush, last week and made a beeline for Sydney.
With only 5 weeks and over 3000km to cover in this country, we have had to put in a few ‘big’ driving days. Ten hours after taking our last breath of mountain air, we were navigating the freeways, toll ways, motorways, highways and byways of Sydney, the biggest city in Australia.

With only one wrong turn, we made it to Matt’s place in the heart of the urban jungle (Matt is an Aussie friend of Kathleen’s who she met while working in Banff last winter).

It is always neat to arrive somewhere in the dark and have your true whereabouts revealed in the morning light. From Matt’s front yard we could see the ocean down below through a maze of streets and real estate. Matt was a great tour guide. He took us to North Head, a spot over looking Sydney Harbour with spectacular views before taking us into the city on the Manly ferry. He was patient with us as we went snap-happy with the Harbour Bridge and Opera House, even more patient as we explored the weekend markets downtown, and provided us with a wealth of information about the history of Sydney and other cool and interesting facts. It really made me think about Toronto…I don’t think I would be able to do the same if someone came to my city. I could take them around, but it made me realize that I really don’t know much about the history of the city where I grew up.
After a day of ‘big city’, we were ready to get into the surf. We rented a few boards and wetsuits and headed down to Manly Beach. The swell was BIG as there were some weather systems moving (which resulted in almost a week of rain from this day onward) and the waves rolling in were also BIG. But Matt knew the beach well. There was a sand spit under water at one end of the beach where the waves would be smaller and more manageable. We spent the afternoon playing in the whitewash, a perfect place to start to get the hang of the being propelled by the water without the risk of being munched in a giant wave, and working on our leg muscles, resisting the constant vacuum of the outgoing waves. Exhausted, but that good exhausted-after-swim feeling of just having used every muscle in your body, we dried off and tucked into fish and chips from a place that has been serving fish to salty surfers for over 50 years.

A camper van by any other name...

Howard.
We thought long and hard.
It took about 2 weeks before a name that suited our plain camper van came to us.
The name was inspired by the over-population of miniature horses in Victoria…well, over-population according to Rob. I guess Victorians like their mini-ponies.
They were everywhere – in people’s front lawns and pastures, whole fields of them or mixed in with other animals. The amount of miniature horses roaming the state brought on a heated debate over the use of said miniature horses in a place experiencing extreme drought. Anyways….it also reminded me of the miniature goat that was at my summer camp years ago…the poor thing was always bloated as it still had real goat size organs in a mini goat body…his name was Howard.
The moment “Howard” came out of my mouth, Kath and Rob looked at each other.
Howard it was.

Bushfire Fairytales

Simon was the designated tour guide and was in charge of the topographic maps; however, I had taken a quick peek at our planned route as we were packing up. It looked as if the dotted line of the trail passed perpendicularly across numerous contour lines on the map with barely a deviation…hum, I thought, maybe the marked trail was just an approximation. We set out down the trail…or maybe ‘up’ the trail would be more accurate. That map wasn’t kidding. The trail went straight up the mountain. Straight up! In Canada, we have something called ‘switch backs’, where whoever built the trail took the time to reduce the incline by making it loop back on itself, slowly gaining elevation. Not in Australia. I could just picture the trailblazers…rough, tough, sunburnt ex-cons bushwacking straight up the mountain, none of this sissy switchback stuff. Were you going up or not? So up we went, huffing and puffing with our big packs.Because the going was slow, we had plenty of time to take in our surroundings.


The forest was much different from our forests at home. For one, the majority of the trees were eucalyptus. Eucalyptus shed their bark annually. Simon described the process…the outer bark of the tree hardens to protect the inner bark, but the tree continues to grow from the inside until it is too big for its shell. The bark then begins to crack, peel and shed, resulting in strips of bark hanging from nearly every branch and littering the forest floor. Secondly, almost every tree shows evidence of being burnt at one point for another. Charred logs peek through the grass and the dirt is a mixture of red earth and burnt coals, evidence of a fiery past. At one snack break, we stood out on a rocky clearing, overlooking the surrounding mountains. Massive arcs of land overlapping each other in various shades of green as they faded into the distance. A plume of opaque smoke rose from one of the distant mountain tops. Forest fires.

Simon explained that the accumulated bark on forest floors was the perfect tinder for a blaze. That, combined with the multi-year drought Australia had been experiencing meant the entire state of Victoria could go up in one heck of a bonfire.This made me nervous. If a fire was burning just over the hill and the entire state was virtually littered in matchsticks, wouldn’t that mean that flames would soon be licking at our heels?Simon seemed unconcerned as we made camp for the night about an hour below the summit.



As I climbed into my sleeping bag I was more concerned with the inferno in my quad and calf muscles than the one in the far-off bush.The early morning air was heavy with fog and a thick frost covered the grass. We headed off, sorry…up, towards the summit climbing on all fours this time and glad we had left our big packs down where we had camped the night before. The mist seemed to be hanging around, stubborn to being burnt off by the suns warm rays. As we neared the top of the mountain however, we realized that the haze was not entirely due to the moisture in the air. From the summit we could see the real culprit. Dense, dark ochre coloured smoke hung like a blanket over the surrounding valleys as far as we could see to the south. Bushfires were burning. It turned out that the fires were actually controlled burns in surrounding areas and we were in no danger. Forests are burnt regularly, on purpose, to decrease the amount of ‘tinder’ and therefore risk of a real uncontrolled fire starting in the bush. That night, as we nursed different sore muscles from trudging straight down a mountain, we were graced with one of the most spectacular by-products of bushfires- a brilliant sunset. As the sun went down, the sky ignited in hues of mauve, crimson and burnt orange, creating a backdrop for the silhouettes of the mountain ranges covered in eucalyptus trees.

My Backyard

Guest Blogger returns. It has been a while since I have written, and to be honest, I am not even sure where this blog will take me…and you.

It is hard to believe that we have been in Oz for nearly 3 weeks, which means we only have another 3 before we return to New Zealand. However, that being said, we have already been graced with so much of Australia’s brilliance. We have been fortunate to have been able to re-connect with local Aussie’s who have been kind enough to share their time and their knowledge with us as we make our way up the East coast. However, it is amazing how much one takes their own country for granted.

I think this blog now has a focus.

I can remember a few years ago, when we were both still at Queen’s, having this conversion with myself and then Chlo and probably other close friends. “I don’t want to be one of those people who just jumps ship on Canada and heads off to see other countries…I want to see MY own country first.” Why is there a need to out-source ones travelling when there is so much to do in our backyard? Over the last two weeks it has donned on me that this is an international phenomenon. We have come across numerous Aussie’s who have travelled around the world, but have not seen much, or any, of their own country. Why does this happen? Why don’t we see the uniqueness and travel opportunities in our own Countries?

Now that I have started to travel internationally, I want to see even more of Canada. Chlo and I stuck to our goal of exploring Canada (or large portions of Canada) before we flew off to see the world. However, hearing a few Aussie’s talk about their lack of domestic travel makes me want to get to Newfoundland, Nunavut and the Yukon before I go on another international adventure. I want to accurately answer a travelling foreigner’s query “what is Canada like?

Well…do I have an answer for you!
What part of Canada do you want to see? Do you want to go in the summer? Or Winter? Do you want to go to cities? Or remote wilderness? Do you like the hustle bustle of a city like Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver or do you want a laid back experience in Yellowknife or Halifax? Do you want to visit rural Alberta? Hike in the Rocky Mountains? Paddle in Alqonquin Park? Or Surf in British Columbia?

I don’t want to sound like a bragging blogger who has been everywhere, but for whatever reason I have placed domestic travel high on my priority list…because after all, Canada is a beautiful place with endless travel/adventure opportunities.

I guess what I am trying to say is that next time you think of flying to Mexico or Cuba…stop for a minute and think about your own country. If it’s Canada…go to Vancouver Island and check out the forests, go to Quebec City and learn about the history or get really crazy and head up to Yellowknife for an amazing outdoor experience (that is still in Canada you know). If you are a Kiwi go to a nearby vineyard, go the West Coast and learn about the history of jade or head up to Mount Cook and learn about local mountaineering and mountaineers or find a gem of a beach like Waikuku and go for a surf. If you are an Aussie...go to the Great Ocean Road and check out the amazing cliffs and rock formations, hike in Grampians National Park on the ancient rocks, or dive at the Great Barrier Reef!

Go see your own country, smell the fresh air, go barefoot to get a true feel of your local surroundings and don’t be afraid to travel locally, because too often we pass up local gems merely because they are so close and they will ‘always’ be there.

Road to Nowhere

You had to yell over the all the noise in the van. The wheels chattered over the red washboard dirt road, shaking every cupboard, pot, pan, dish, and piece of cutlery, easing every screw loose, and after 30-odd kilometers, sheering off the latches on the cabinets.
We were heading out to Alpine National Park where we would be starting our bush walk.
The van had one more challenge- crossing a little creek, which it overcame with ease. As the ignition turned off, it sounded like a huge sigh of relief...not sure if it was from the van itself or the passengers who had been battered around inside for the previous 2 hours.
Regardless, the van would get a rest for the next two days, and our hard work was just about to begin.
We packed the last few loose items into our packs, wrote "Back on the 17th" in the dust on the back of the van and headed off into the bush.

nb: Bushfire Fairytales is the blog about this hike.

Simon Says

For the past week we have been hanging out with Simon.
Robbie and I worked with Simon in Rocky Mountain House, Alberta- a few seasons of outdoor work on the river and in the mountains. Before leaving Canada to return home, he uttered those golden words ...'if you're ever in Australia, come and stay'.

Six months later, our camper van was parked in his driveway and sleeping bags rolled out in his living room...what a treat!



Simon had an itinerary for our week- Aussie Immersion.
By day, we would paddle Aussie rivers and go for an Aussie bushwalk, eat Aussie burgers (with beetroot, bacon, pinapple and egg!) and Aussie meat pies. By night, we would watch Aussie movies like 'The Castle' and 'Kenny', true Australian talent and humour.
And that we did.

Chance Encounter

Meet us at the camper van place at noon, we had told Kathleen.
Our good friend Kath had arrived in Melbourne while we had been riding with Hypoactive.
None of us knew where this camper van place was or how to get there, but that is where we had planned to rendez vous…on the other side of the world…Down Under. It was here that the Great Aussie Road Trip would commence.
According to the directions we had searched, we just had to ride a few trams and trains across to the other side of the city. How long could that take? Seeing as the route maps looked similar on paper, brightly coloured lines crossing this way and that, I had wrongly assumed that Melbourne trains would be similar to the Toronto subway, trains coming every few minutes. Note the word…wrongly.

In reality, trains came 2 or 3 times an hour, resulting in us being about an hour behind schedule to meet Kath. I was stressing. I HATE being late. And this was beyond late. This was grounds for Kath thinking that we had abandoned her in a foreign city, all alone, dingos starting to circle.

Rob and I raced from tram to train, down escalators, up stairs, out onto platforms hoping to catch just one break. To our amazement, the last train we needed to catch was scheduled to depart in 3 minutes. Phew! We ran to the platform and ushered ourselves onto a car. We stood there catching our breath as the train pulled away. Visions of the dingos began to creep into my mind…couldn’t this train go any faster? Poor Kath, all alone….I could practically see her….wait a second...my brain stumbled over itself…I could literally see her.

There was Kath!

Sitting about half a car length away, on the very same car, of the very same train, pulling out of the very same station….was Kath, with not a dingo insight.

Hey! I called out….you’re late!!

Shifting Gears

I don't think this is what the camper van company had in mind when it rented this very nice vehicle to us in Melbourne, but we thought we should send this picture to them to use as a marketing tool!
One camper van fits 3 boats and all the gear needed for 4 people on the river for a day!
The boats and soggy paddling gear have probably been the least of the abuse inflicted thus far on our poor little van.

The main offender has been....me.

I tried and tried to get out of my first driving shift...
"I can't drive standard" I pleaded.
"I've never driven on the 'wrong' side of the road" I cried.
Both arguments were met with the inevitable...if you never try it, how will you ever learn?

Reluctantly, I got in the driver's seat.
Hello Van....I greeted my new counterpart.
Do you have any idea of what you're in for?

I started out on a dirt road, off the main highway along the Great Ocean Road.
In 1st gear, I eased my foot off the clutch and rolled out onto the road like a real pro.
However it didn't take long before my luck and nerves started wearing thin.
I had that poor van bouncing away from stop signs, winsheild whipers going with every other turn (the indicator is on the other side of the steering wheel). Both Kath and Rob talked me through each and every shift....foot off gas, clutch in, shift, clutch out and..... VRRRRROOOOOOM, the van would protest....that's 5th not 3rd...clutch in....

Despite the initial stress, I began to feel okay on the road....my confidence was building, the shifts getting smoother, as all things do with practice. That was just about the time that we pulled into the first little town on my shift.
Lights, people, stop signs, yields, windshield wipers, gears, clutch, traffic, cars behind me, lane changes.....ahhhhhhhhh!

"I'M NOT DRIVING IN THE CITY" I yelled...frantically trying to find the left hand turn indicator so that I could pull over and get out of the van.
"No more! Not today!"

Robbie picked up where I left off, delivering us, and the van, safely to the grocery store.
The ride was quiet, except for Kath's one sentence.
"You did good Chlo"

Hahahahahaha. Laughable really, but it was nice to have the support.

NB: I have driven a few times since the 'city incident' and things are getting better...less bouncing and lurching, more turn signals instead of wipers

Has it been a week already?

Sincerest appologies for the lack of blogging this week. You see, we've been travelling around in this van, driving on the Great Ocean Road, camping in the bush, hiking on million year old mountains, paddling on the little water that Australia has left in it's interior, eating giant Aussie burgers and hanging out with Aussie blokes. A full Aussie immersion!

We have seen more kangaroos, koalas, kookaburras and wombats than we have pay phones and computers.
We have been dis-connected to say the least.
As per usual, we will post when possible...we have so much to update you all on!

Over Riden

This past weekend I was overrun with Type 1 diabetics. Chlo's dream really. It was a great experience for not only Chloe, but myself.

Over the past 2 months we have talked about so many different ideas for Chlo's dream group/company (whatever it ends up being) and being apart of HypoActive has stoked the fire ten fold. Chlo's eyes were lit up the entire weekend. I could see her little engine working all weekend, compiling information, asking questions, proding for answers and learning more about how other Type 1's manage diabetes. I could see her mentally laying down the ground work for ConnectedinMotion.

It was amazing to be completely surrounded by Type 1's and essentially become one myself. For the entire weekend there were many comments made surrounding my working pancreas and I was more than happy to offer insight as to how I keep my levels between the target of 4 and 7. All weekend there was a bit of a contest to see who could register a 5.5 (a perfect blood sugar of sorts) and wouldn't you know it, on my second test (yes, I tested my blood sugar before and after every ride) I posted a 5.5!

Joking aside, this weekend embodied Chlo's journey downunder...to make connections and work on the collecting information as to how to go about setting up a diabetic group back home. The weekend was a complete success. Stayed tuned, Chlo is working on a few blogs with more information on the weekend!

Cruising in the Slipstream

During the Murray to Moine, I had the oppourtunity to ride in a number of 'bunches'. There were over 1000 other riders in the event and natually, our small group of 3 riders would catch up with other groups, which would catch up with other groups...resulting in a large mass of riders cruising down the road at over 35km/h.

In any bunch or group of riders, the cyclists up front take the brunt of the wind and air resistance, creating a slipstream or reduced resistance behind them. The bigger the group, the easier it becomes for the riders in the back.
Bunch ettiquite dicates that as riders in the front tire, they ease to the outside and fresh riders from in behind, move up to take their turn as windbreakers.
In doing this, the endurance and speed of the group as a whole can be sustained for long periods of time, as riders have a chance to rest and slow down their leg cadence while still cruising along at a good clip.

Meeting the Hypoactive crew and spending 48 hours with 13 other Type 1's was like slidding into the slipstream of a 13 rider bunch.
Although I was was working hard to keep my blood sugars in check (testing my blood over 30 times, eating enough to keep fueled, dealing with highs, topping up lows) it was as though suddenly the resistance had eased. Everyone around me was doing the same thing. EVERYONE had diabetes, EVERYONE was managing their disease and EVERYONE was excelling out on the road, pushing their physical limits. Before I knew it, I had been picked up and sucked into the bunch- for 48 hours, I was cruising.

Riding alone with diabetes, like riding alone on a road bike, is a challenge (not imposible by any means) but if the wind picks up or you need to travel long distances, fatigue and exhaustion become a problem.

After riding in a bunch, I realize that I have expended a lot of extra energy riding out on my own all these years. Luckily, I have an incredible support crew of family and friends that are like a constant tail wind, but the experience of riding in a bunch and meeting other active, fit and outgoing Type 1 athletes who deal with the same things that I do every single minute of every single day was like nothing I have ever felt before.

For 48 hours, I shared the load. I had people out in front of me breaking headwind, people beside me encouraging me and people behind me, riding in my slipstream. All of us took turns out in front of the bunch and all of us took cover in behind at somepoint. The result was a group speed averaging 30km/h for 15 hours straight...a feat none of us could have accomplished on our own.

Sunday night as we returned back to Melbourne, it was time for the bunch to disperse and go their seperate ways, time to ride as individuals for a while on the energy saved from riding in the bunch and the anticipation of knowing that soon, somewhere down the road there will be an opportunity to ride in the slipstream again.

Pumped

I am pumped.

This weekend, Rob and I joined Hypoactive on their annual Murray to Moine cycle relay to raise money for Diabetes Camps for Kids here in Victoria. The team was made up of 10 riders and 5 support crew...all of whom have Type 1 diabetes...except Rob.

The ride started in Echuca (north of Melbourne) and ended 520km later in Port Fairy (on the coast). As a team, we rode for 24 hours....had 4 hours of sleep...ate 15kg of Candy...drank 12 cases of Sugar-Free Red Bull, Diet Coke and Powerade...and ate more food than I have ever seen consumed in a 24 hour period.

The event kicked off at 11am when our first team hit the road- we split up into three groups and rotated in one hour shifts. Riding hard, then resting, testing blood sugars and refueling in the van inbetween until 2am when we rolled into a rest stop for a four hour sleep. Up again at 6am for the final 90km leg which we rode all together as a team.

Having never riden a road bike before, I was a wee bit hesitant as everyone met in the parking lot in Melboune and started unloading flashy bikes...this was going to be serious. The Hypoactive crew had pulled together everything Rob and I needed to ride for the weekend...bikes, helmets, clothes, gloves, bike lights...everything. So even though we had no clue what to expect, we at least looked the part!

Luckily, everyone was extremely warm, welcoming, friendly and more than willing to help a few rookie Canadian cyclists learn the ropes. In no time, we were cruising down the road, doing exchanges and drafting in behind other riders.

During the down times in the van between shifts, the Aussies felt it their duty to expose Rob and I to as much 'Aussie Culture' as possible...so not only did we come away from the weekend with new riding skills, but with an arsenal of Aussie vocabulary, phrases, song lyrics and pop culture.

By the end of the weekend we were starting to be able to walk the walk, and I reckon that we could fool a few blokes into thinking we could talk the talk as well, and I'm fair dinkum!

AUSTRALIA by STORM

Robbie and I arrived in Melbourne, Australia yesterday morning.
New Zealand put up a bit of a fuss with our departure.
The biggest storm we had seen in two months crashed, boomed and lit up the sky before we went to bed on our last night. A plane was struck by lightening, causing some delays for the passengers, so it was a full flight the next morning, but an uneventful one. Just the way I like it.

Australia had a grand welcome planned for us. We were greeted by gale force winds blowing street signs down the roads, ripping huge signs off buildings, knocking out power, picking up old ladies (no joke) and sand blasting our faces with fragments of the Outback.

We also received a warm welcome from Ewin, the finacee of a Type 1 diabetic cyclist that runs an organization called Hypoactive here in Melbourne. http://www.hypoactive.org/
I sent an email to Monique months ago when I first found her website. I had been searching 'cycling' 'Australia' 'New Zealand' 'Type 1 diabetes'....and the Hypoactive site popped up. I inquired as to whether there would be any way of getting involved in any events while in Australia and picking her brain as to how she got her organization up and running (something I am keen on doing upon my return to Canada).
Well, she invited us to join the Type 1 group in their annual cycling fundraiser....a 500km, two-day cycle relay called the Murray to Moine (which starts Saturday). Not only that...but she offered up her home as a place for us to head when we landed in Melbourne. And she's not even a member of couch surfing!!
It's the first time I have entered another diabetics house. It's funny, but seeing someone elses insulin in the fridge and a whole cupboard in the kitchen devoted to snacks for lows is really comforting.
Could this be the inaugural stay of "Diabetic Couch Surfers"? Surfing from one diabetic safehaven to the next around the globe?

Who knows, but what I DO know is that I have once again been blown away by the hospitality, generocity and trust shown by complete stangers down under.