Sarah is making me write now – probably so she can read her comic book undisturbed.
We decided to go to a theme park after the girl from Housekeeping went on and on about Dreamworld and Sarah admitted she would love to go there. The Maid was so friendly and helpful.
We left pretty early and drove to Dreamworld, which is like Busch Gardens in size and set-up, because it has rides as well as bunches of animals. So I finally got to see koalas, wombats and dingoes. The dingoes looked so sad and feral at the same time. Sarah was startled when one trotted right up to me and looked at us through the fence. She’s afraid of dogs and wolves, and dingoes are like a combination of the two. The tour guide told us that they NEVER come down to see visitors because they are very shy and afraid of people. He was shocked that the dingo was actually wagging its tail like it wanted me to pet it! I know not to touch wild animals, even at a zoo, but a fence prevented me from doing so anyway. It just looked like it wanted someone to rub its neck and scratch its ears.
It’s so weird how animals just seem to come up to me. The other day, down in the hotel lobby, the Receptionist had a little yippy dog she said growls at everyone, yet the dog went up to me and started licking my hand, nudging me to pet it. Everyone was surprised.
So anyway, when we first got there we bought our tickets (which converted to about $14.95 in American money and covered the entire park and all the rides). While we were looking at the map trying to decide what to ride, Sarah got a temporary tattoo of a big red dragon around her belly button and it looked really cool. 
First we went on the river ride (Krakatoa’s Revenge) and we got a bit wet. In my ever continuing effort to get over my fear of heights, I went to the Skylink Chairlift, which is exactly what it sounds like: a skyride in a ski chair. It was a little bit scary because it was so open and without the seatbelt, it would have been easy to fall. From the Skylink, I saw kangaroos and excitedly informed Sarah that we needed to see them up close.
We left the Skylink and right by the exit was Koala Country, where they have hundreds of different breeds of Koala. They are so cute up close! They had an area where you could get your picture taken with a koala (which I thought meant the koala was sitting on a table or chair next to you but turned out to mean you could HOLD the koala). I decided I didn’t care how much it cost, I was going to hold a koala. It was $12.95 AU and Sarah could be in the photo too. The koala was four years old and his name was Tex. He weighed “five kilos”, which is pretty heavy. He wrapped his arms right around me and buried his head in the crook of my arm. I still can’t believe how soft he was. I petted and scratched his head and he looked right up at me with intelligent eyes. Up close, they smell like Eucalyptus, which makes sense. It’s a nice scent. Since no one else was waiting, the animal wrangler let me keep holding Tex after the picture was taken and she told me there are several koalas that pose. When they see a koala in a cage that seems particularly interested in people and is friendly and even-tempered with the Feeders and Handlers, they train that koala to be held and touched by Park Guests. Then they rotate them so they all get used. So far, none have bitten a customer. Finally, I had to give Tex back so we could get the photo from the booth. I look like a big dork in the picture, but Tex looks cute!
After the photo, we went to the Animal Feeding Area, where we found out we could PET the kangaroos and feed them by hand. Basically they were out in the open at the park – Free Range Roos – and they sold bags of Roo Food for about 50 cents. It was really cool because they came right up to us and took the food from our palms. I saw a female kangaroo lying down with a joey sticking out of her pouch. All I could see were ears and feet! One kangaroo took a liking to me (or maybe just my endless supply of Roo Pellets) and followed me all over the area. They came up to about my waist. I thought they’d be bigger and I guess some are, but not these. They were a tannish brown in color and had long, thick tails.
(From pamphlet entitled “Wildlife Information: Kangaroos”: With 49 species ranging from the tiny musky rat-kangaroo to the `big reds’, kangaroos are one of Australia’s best known and most common native wildlife groups. Collectively, kangaroos, wallabies and rat-kangaroos are known as macropods (meaning `big-foot’). The term `kangaroo’ is often used to describe any member of the macropod superfamily. Native only in Australia, New Guinea and nearby islands, macropods are the world’s most common and most varied group of marsupials. The kangaroo is the symbol of Australia, appearing on the coat-of-arms and featuring in international business, tourism and sporting campaigns. Queensland’s 32 macropod species are found in every habitat in the State from the arid inland plains to the wet tropics. The Department of Environment and Heritage, the State’s wildlife conservation authority, manages and monitors the State’s macropod population. Kangaroos are distinctive in the way they move – by `hopping’ on their large hind feet. No other large mammal uses this form of movement which is more efficient than running. Forelimbs support the body during feeding. In the Earth’s history, kangaroos have evolved in relatively recent time.
The ancestors of most modern kangaroos are unknown to science before the Pleistocene, a geological epoch – 2 million to 10,000 years ago. Kangaroo history extends back 4.5 million years when the forebears of today’s agile wallaby, swamp wallaby and common wallaroo lived. During the Pleistocene, macropods had to cope with major predators like the thylacine, marsupial lion and Aborigines. Between 35,000 and 17,000 years ago, Australia’s megafauna (large animals) became extinct but some macropods survived. With the change to a drier climate, rainforests contracted and grasslands spread. Conditions at last favoured the grass-eating kangaroos. The musky rat-kangaroo is a living fossil. Unique among modern kangaroos, it gallops instead of hops, has twins, and a fifth toe on it’s hind foot, reflecting the lifestyle and body form of the early macropods.) After the kangaroos, we looked at a bunch of other animals, especially birds. Big colorful birds. We saw one called a cassowary, which is the third largest bird in the world, behind the ostrich and emu. It came up to my shoulder and had a blue crown and red “waddle” (like a rooster) and gray “armor” on its head. I was told the pointy armor is actually bone cartilage and the cassowaries use it to stun and kill their prey and attackers. I had never seen such beautifully bright colors on a bird before. There we also a ton of lizards, including one with a bright blue tongue. Rob told me they call iguanas “goannas” here, but I think they are different. The goannas are very large and creepy looking.
I learned about cane toads from the guidebook I bought at Barnes and Noble. Apparently, they were introduced to the continent from South America as a way to control the beetle population, but the toads got out of control and spread like wildfire since they have no natural predators (and seem to spend all their free time procreating). They also found that catching the beetles was too much work, so they went after easier prey. The biggest problem is that they are deadly to the birds and snakes that eat them and they are wrecking havoc on the ecosystem as a result. From what I understand, Queenslanders derive a certain amount of pleasure from trying to squish cane toads with their cars. Sounds gross to me, but I guess it’s a form of population control that gets the job done right!
I was very impressed with the wombats, having previously assumed they were flying mammals. I had no clue they were gargantuan hamsters with major attitude problems. What’s odd about them is that they are not rodents at all, but marsupials! Their babies are carried in back-facing pouches facing upwards so they can be protected from flying dirt when the wombat mothers burrow. There were two sleeping wombats the size of my coffee table and another one just basting in the sun with drowsy eyes and a disdainful expression. Sarah said they have nasty tempers and are likely to chase you if disturbed in the wild. We had lunch (chicken and chips that tasted better than anything similar I have tried before). There were ducks in the outside area where we ate and they came up to us like little mooches and ate fries from our hands. Obviously they have been fed that way before. When we were done with the chicken and chips, we went to the Plaza café to utilize our free tea coupons. We also had caramel tarts.
Okay, after lunch we walked around a bit to settle our stomachs because we had to go on rides (of course – right after food – when else?). We got on line for a ride not knowing what it was (but thinking it was probably the Log Flume). Brave or stupid? You tell me! I should have been more worried when I read signs that said “no loose articles at the top”. Er…top of what pray tell? I soon found out.
“Top” meant WAY up the top of a huge tower a million feet in the air. It was called the Giant Drop and I found out later that it’s the world’s tallest ride reaching 38 stories high. When it was too late to back out was when I went into panic mode. First we put our bags, cameras and my glasses into mesh bags in little cubbies, then the ever-helpful ride attendants strapped us into bench-like chairs with our feet dangling, and they locked us in. At this point, I started muttering Hail Marys. We were pulled up the side of the tower, up, up, up, up – HIGH UP! At the very top, we could see all of the park and the highway outside – in fact I would swear I saw the ocean.
Joking to make myself feel better while they left us dangling up there, I turned to Sarah and said “I think I can see my house from here”. But for me it was really all fuzzy because my glasses were a million feet down on the ground where I was quite certain I belonged. When the ride jolted and I knew they were about to drop our asses, I started murmuring, “I am going to die now” repeating it like a mantra to calm my nerves.
Then we DROPPED.
It was like falling off the Empire State Building, only faster and with less probability of making a crater on the sidewalk. Halfway down, my screams grew silent as the pressure on my lungs knocked the sound right out of them. It was like my lungs collapsed and time stood still as we dropped for what felt like forever. I couldn’t breathe or think or speak. The world rushed by in a cacophony of color and wind whooshing by my ears.
Finally, we reached the bottom and air filled my lungs. My mouth felt dry and I looked up, expecting to see my stomach still at the top where I was SURE I had left it. My throat burned and my heart pounded. I was shaking in shock. We went over to the bridge near the ride exit and sat down for a few minutes. While the ride was in progress and no one was exiting, I could lie down on the cool wooden slats and look up, and I did so. I wanted to see how long the ride really took, because my estimate of “a life time” seemed too lengthy. We lingered while the next group of hapless victims climbed up and as we were waiting I thought about theme parks and tourists.
One of the most glaringly obvious differences between Busch Gardens and Dreamworld was crowds. There were a lot of people at Dreamworld, but it never seemed busy or loud. Waiting on the lines was a pleasant experience, in which strangers talked and made jokes and no one complained. The waits were not very long as a rule, even for wildly popular rides like the Giant Drop. But even when we had to wait, everyone was courteous about it. Out in the park, there was no pushing and shoving and no screaming children. In some ways, it seemed eerie. I mean, are Americans really that obnoxious in large groups? Are we so used to demanding our own way and the center of attention that we are convinced the world revolves around us? It seems so. It’s very disquieting.
I looked up at the sky and the Giant Drop. The breeze hit my face and the sun felt warm on my skin. No one chased us off the bridge or shepherded us to the next attraction. We calmly waited for the next group to descend the tower. Imagine my surprise when I realized that what had felt endless was no more than a five second drop!
Of course, Sarah wanted to go again. Sighing (and content that my stomach had rejoined my body), I decided to throw caution (and any common sense I had left) to the wind and go again. It was almost scarier the second time when I knew what to expect. I swear I have twenty new gray hairs! I’m actually glad I did it, even if just thinking about it gives me heart palpitations. I was thoroughly freaked out, but it makes me feel better that Sarah was too. She just gets off on the rush. I must admit it’s quite exhilarating.
After that, the final drop on the log flume seemed like nothing, even though we got drenched to the skin. The weather was a tad cool because it’s so late in the season and just on the edge of winter. Here they don’t determine seasons by solstice; winter starts on June 1st and summer starts on December 1st. I suppose that’s an efficient way to do it, though it seems odd. So technically, we are only a few days from winter in an area that is a lot like Georgia in climate.
The last thing we went on was the Wipeout. It was last because it did me in. The 
guidebook describes it extremely accurately as being like wind surfing in the ring cycle of the washing machine. That’s the best description, and it won’t do much to explain further because I want to puke just thinking about it. That ended up being my downfall as it made me VERY sick. After staggering off the ride, I quickly sat down on the concrete near a wooden post and put my head on the top of the wood, groaning. Sarah wanted to go on again, but when she saw my green pallor, she didn’t push me to join her.
“I’ll just sit here and look at these three kookaburras,” I told her.
“There is only one,” she replied.
“Oh,” I said.
So I sat on the cement moaning and sucking on a whole roll of frutips pastilles until my stomach stopped churning. When I felt a little better, I took a photo of Sarah on the Wipeout. I was still queasy when she rejoined me, so we went to get some ice cream to settle my tummy. I had something called Triple Tornado, which looked like rainbow sherbert but was actually very smooth and creamy ice cream. If all ice cream tasted that delicious I would love it instead of merely tolerating it.
As we ate the cones, we walked down the path towards Tiger Island. There were five Bengal tigers there and they were all playing like kittens. Actually, three of them were cubs, only seven months old. One was white and the guy who was in there playing with them (Peter) told us that it is not an albino, but a rare white tiger born there in the park to orange parents. It was fun watching them frolic and play on a large log. There were hitting each other with huge paws and knocking one another off the log then tackling. Tigers fascinate me because they are so beautiful and lethal, but so playful, like my cats. (I miss Lucy and Jadzia.) We watched them until they had to go inside for naps.
I really did not feel up to the Tower of Terror or the Roller Coaster, as I was still a particularly gruesome shade of green. I felt a little guilty that we had to leave, but it was so much fun and it was a long, full day.
Okay, I am WAY behind now. I haven’t written about meeting Sarah’s sister, Elizabeth, or going to the Botanic Gardens in Brisbane or the Daisy Hill Koala Reserve. I’m afraid of maybe forgetting details.
Let’s see – the Botanic Gardens was an interesting time. It was pretty. We walked along the Brisbane River through mangrove trees and looked at various bushes, birds and such. Sarah and Elizabeth both kept pointing out how ugly and dirty the river is, and I just felt sorry for it – meandering by a large city, disregarded by most, and dismissed by the rest. It’s a river that has existed for millennia only to come to this moment of derision.
I also found the mangroves, knee deep in mud and water, fascinating. They grow in swamps, sucking life from the ground and existing where nothing else can. We picked up several of the small, yellow fruits that had fallen onto the wooden bridge and tossed them far into the brown river, listening with satisfaction at the quiet “kerplunk” each fruit made.
In the middle of the orchard of mangrove trees on a bridge over the water, it all felt so isolated, yet a quick turn of the head revealed the Brisbane Cityscape, plain as anything in the near distance.
We walked up a footpath to the top of the hill where we decided to have ice cream. Normally, I don’t like ice cream much, but the way they make it here has changed my opinion. Elizabeth and I both wanted lemonade, but Sarah had one of the “chocolate billabongs” she once told Ruth about in an email. It looked gross but tasted like frozen pudding on a stick when Sarah offered it to me to try.
On the way to the car, we passed a statue we wanted to pose before and for some reason, the picture taking propelled Sarah into a sneezing fit causing her to declare vehemently that she is “allergic to ugly statues.” A few feet away were more statues and sculptures. One was gigantic and made of mirrors with cubbies that one could climb into and on – so Sarah and I did just that!
(From pamphlet entitled: “Brisbane’s City Botanic Gardens – The Heritage Gardens” (the spelling is as written and reflects Australia spelling): Enjoy Queensland’s leading heritage park by strolling amidst trees planted at the time Brisbane was first established. These beautiful old trees are set in tranquil surrounds of the Brisbane City Botanic Gardens, just minutes from the city centre. The site was established in 1828 and started as a fruit and vegetable garden supplying food for the Moreton Bay penal settlement (as Brisbane was first known). Seeds from the Garden were given to free settlers who planted them throughout Queensland and beyond. The Mangrove Boardwalk is 400m and is lit until midnight – it takes you right out onto the Brisbane River. The curator’s cottage, built in 1905, now houses the Gardens Café. There are also Rainforests, Formal Garden, Lily Ponds, Palm Grove and Camellia Gardens.)
We stopped a woman on the way out (no one ever seems surprised by this) to have her take a picture of the three of us together. A man with a German accent (who obviously didn’t realize I am a bloody American because he asked me to take a photo of him and three other people) stopped me. He had a really nice camera so it’s a good thing I am the honest type. It seems that it’s totally commonplace here for people to stop each other and ask them to take pictures. No one is ever put out or rude about it.
Elizabeth was being “whingey” and being the big old grump that I am, I told them I still wanted to see the Daisy Hill Forest, even if Elizabeth was being a pouty thirteen-year-old. First we went back to the hotel and ordered from Pizza Hut (half extra cheese and half pineapple). Guess what? Pizza Hut tastes exactly the same in Australia as in America. That was just WRONG! J So we finished the pizza and went on to the Daisy Hill Koala Centre and State Forest, which is right near where Sarah grew up, so she has gone there a lot. It’s a prime example of the famous “Australian Bush”.
(From information sheet obtained at the front desk in the Koala Centre: Daisy Hill State Forest is a natural bushland reserve located about 25km south-east of Brisbane’s city centre and is one of the last relatively in tact forest areas between Brisbane and the Gold Coast. The diverse eucalypt forest is dominated by spotted gum, grey gum, ironbark, tallowwood and stringybarks. Daisy Hill State Forest 
provides for many of the community’s recreation needs and is a valuable area for wildlife habitat. Visitors to the forest can enjoy a picnic or barbecue in a shaded forest setting. Toilets, barbecues (firewood supplied), tables and disabled facilities are provided. The Tree Discovery and Paperbark trails are provided for walkers and contain interpretive signage. Other longer recreation trails through the forest are shared by bushwalkers, horse riders and cyclists. Many forms of wildlife live in the forest. Alert visitors may see a long range of animals including birds, koalas, possums, wallabies and reptiles. When visiting the State Forest please remember that all plants and animals are protected and all rubbish should be placed in the bins provided.)
We went to the main building and right away met two koalas inside. They are babies who were orphaned when their mother was hit by a car. They are being hand-raised and will be reintroduced into the wild after three months. One was sleeping on the highest branches of the tree and the other was quite active. It jumped from branch to branch. I was prepared for one giant leap because it wound itself up like Lucy does before she pounces. Because I was ready for it, I was able to snap a photo when the koala was mid-flight. I think I got a cool photo there, but I won’t know until I get home and develop the film. At the rate I’m going it’s going to cost me a month’s salary to develop them all!
There was a movie being shown in an interesting little room that was made up to make you feel like you’re sitting in the forest. Even the floors were soft and squishy like a muddy ground, which was really weird. To start the movie, we had to press a button, then go in and situate ourselves on the spongy floor while a “forest fire” burned on the stage. It was there to indicate one of the biggest threats to the koala habitat.
The movie depressed me because it showed koalas losing their homes to developers, dogs, cats, cars and wildfires. But it also indicated that Australians are very good about wanting to save their wildlife and go through great lengths to protect endangered species. Koalas are not endangered, but they are considered to have “protected” status, because their numbers are declining as their habitats are shrinking.
(From pamphlet entitled: “Wildlife Information: The Koala”: The koala is probably Australia’s best known and most appealing native animal. The koala is a herbivorous marsupial. Like the wombat, the koala has a rudimentary tail, cheek pouches and a backward facing pouch with two teats. Although the koala’s teeth and opposable thumbs are similar to those of many possums, recent studies show the koala is more closely related to the wombat than other marsupials. The koala has been placed in a separate family, Phascolarctidae (Phascolarctos cinereus, meaning ash-grey pouched bear).
Well suited to its life in trees, the koala has curved claws and long arms useful for climbing. With three fingers opposing the other two, the front paw makes an efficient grasping hand. The koala has no functional tail. Granular pads on the palms and sole help the koala grip tree trunks. When climbing down, the koala goes bottom first. In Queensland, an adult male weighs about 5-9.5 kg and a female about 5-8.5 kg, about the same as a small dog. Southern koalas are much larger.
In Queensland koalas continue to live in much of their former ranges – the eastern half of the State. They are found in a range of habitats from forested coastal islands to tall eucalypt forests and low woodlands. They do not live in the rainforest. In drier inland areas, koalas live mainly along watercourses and forested ranges. The koala eats the leaves of a number of eucalypts and related species such as the broad-leafed apple and brush box. It has strong regional preferences and may feed almost entirely on one or two species. In Queensland, the blue gum (Eucalyptus tereticornis) is a very important food tree for the koala. Koalas may drink if water is available. Otherwise, the koala gets enough moisture from leaves and dew.
Koalas are nocturnal, spending a few hours each day feeding. Otherwise they sleep or sit quietly in a tree. About once a night, the koala moves to another tree. Koalas are solitary animals. After leaving the mother, the koala does not mix with other koalas except when mating or rearing young.)
After the depressing movie, we walked to the top of the Koala Lookout, but we didn’t see any wild koalas there. The Lookout is wooden and multi-tiered so one can look at wildlife from several levels. We saw a lot of birds, including kookaburras, which are very beautiful. Kookaburras are fuzzy-feathered and their wings are bright blue. I sang the Kookaburra Song for Sarah and Elizabeth because they had never heard of it, which surprised me, since I would have thought it was an Australian Folksong. Ruth would probably know.
I know two versions of the song: “Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, eating all the gumdrops he can see, laugh Kookaburra laugh Kookaburra, save some there for me” and “Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is he, laugh Kookaburra laugh Kookaburra, gay your life must be.”
Sarah and Elizabeth sang “Waltzing Matilda” and the Australian National Anthem for me. Australia just got a National Anthem in 1981, because before that, no one could agree on what it should be. Sarah said she prefers a song called “I am Australian” as a better choice and promised to mail me a copy after I get back to Florida. (note: She sent it a few months later)
We decided to go for a walk on the nature trails so we could seek out koalas and so I could see an actual billabong. On the way down the steps, we saw a wallaby that was prettier than those we had seen at Mount O’Reillys. It either couldn’t see us or knew we were no threat to it because it stayed there eating leaves and ignored us.
The walk into the woods was a bit rough and somewhat muddy. I really enjoyed walking along the paths looking at everything. Sarah pointed out what she called a “small” anthill and I almost choked. The thing was massive. It was the anthill from Hell. It was something out of a horror movie watched at a drive-in theatre. I took a picture of it, but I probably should have stood next to it to show scale or no one will believe how large it was. I swear (no exaggeration) it came up to my waist. And the ants were just average sized bugs – there were about a million of them though. Later down the path, we found more anthills and I understood why Sarah called the first one “small” when I saw the size of the others. But by then, I was out of film.
During this walk, I discovered I could possibly be allergic to some molds after all, especially the bright orange fungus growing all over all the trees here. Any time we were close to them, I started wheezing and couldn’t breathe, but when I moved away from them, I was okay. I took a picture of them so I can try to identify the species in case there are American varieties that may be troublesome to me.
We walked far into the forest to the largest billabongs. Because it has been rainy, they were filled to the rim and a couple ran together to make almost a pond instead of a huge hole. We took a bunch of pictures, including one of me by a Paperbark tree. The bark really IS like paper, but the trunk felt slimy when I leaned on it. Elizabeth had to go back on the path because she was wearing shorts and all the bushes and brambles were hurting her legs. She’s nice, but she’s a bit ornery, like most teenagers.
The billabong (this is for you, Ruth) is a big, bracken pond of murky water. The grass around it is emerald green and fresh, but the trees wrapped around it are gray and black, thin and twisted like arthritic bones on an old person’s hands. They blend together and knit into a spider-web near the water almost as if ready to leap into the ditch. It’s no stretch of the imagination to picture a ghost or bunyip leaping out of its depths and dragging the unwary to a swampy grave. I could easily write a dozen fairy tales after seeing the billabong, but the Aborigines have already beaten me to it. They feared it and honored it. I wanted to honor the billabong.
We stood there listening to the sounds of the billabong and the forest. Then there were no sounds at all the closer we got to the water and it was alarming because it seemed like there should be something making noise. I had never felt so isolated before in my life. Wherever I have lived or been in the past, there has always been the ambient noise, the distant humming buzz of civilization – traffic, voices, machinery, planes. Out in the Daisy Hill Forest, there was none of that, just silence and nature. After a few moments, I heard the leaves whispering against the bark of trees and the whistle of birds chirping merrily. Slowly, sounds seemed to return to the forest, but the peaceful quiet never totally abated. If I close my eyes right now, I can bring back those feelings of tranquillity and joy.
Maybe there is too much noise in our lives and it clutters our brains and hurts our minds. I know that when the air conditioning system shuts down after 6:00pm at the office, I feel less irritable suddenly and I get angry when it comes back on. I don’t realize the noise is there until it goes away and when it returns, it’s almost painful. Just sitting in my office I hear the ventilation system, the hum of the copier, the jangle of phones ringing, the din of voices on the phone, the radio on that horrible 70s station, the tapping of many people typing, the fax machine reading documents and receiving letters…so many sounds to try to filter out. There is constant noise and I crave silence. I did not wish to leave the billabong. I wanted the absolute silence to envelop me. But we had to go back to the noise of city life and leave it behind.
Monday, May 31, 1999 – 10:10am: LOGAN CITY, QUEENSLAND
Okay, continuing on with my week (since I was so lax in writing about it all as it was occurring – but hey, all this hiking and sensory overload is draining!).
So anyway, the day after went to Daisy Hill Forest, we were planning to go to the Australia Zoo and see the Crocodile Hunter, but it was POURING rain and we just didn’t want to drive in that and then walk around a zoo in the rain. We stayed in and vegged out instead. Actually, I think everyone on vacation should do that instead of trying to cram everything in without stopping. It gave me time to relax and take deep breaths and just enjoy being in Australia. I’ll go next time.
The next day, we drove up the Sunshine Coast to Super Bee and Big Pineapple. One really cool thing I have noticed about Australia vs. America is that so far nowhere we have gone has charged an admission price. The only exception was Dreamworld, which was $44.00 AU for both of us, making it about $15.00 cheaper than Disney World. But every place we have been so far has a gift shop! I think they are mandated by the Australian Constitution or something.
Well we set out fairly early, intending to see both tourist traps in one day. The problem was we forgot the Ref-a-dex. Every city should have one. It’s a detailed book of maps and directions how to get anywhere within a 100km radius of Brisbane. Only we forgot it because Sarah got detailed directions from the Hotel Front Desk as far as Super Bee and she decided we could figure out where Big Pineapple was from there. Boy were we wrong! But I’ll get to that later.
Super Bee was very interesting. It’s a bee farm and honey factory. (From Honey Factory pamphlet: Super Bee super fun for the whole family – Honey Factory located at Tanawha Tourist Drive, Sunshine Coast, Queensland. Easy access, coach parking and Free admission. Sample a wide variety of honey at our tasting bar – Australia’s largest range of pure Honey flavours. The Super Bee complex is set in 7 acres of Tropical Gardens, which exhibit a wide variety of Australia flora. Follow the walkways to Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs, the Three Bears Cottage and the House that Jack Built. Relax in our friendly restaurant… indoor or outdoors…you’ll be delighted with the large selection of freshly prepared food…try a delicious Honey Waffle. We pride ourselves on our pleasant atmosphere and friendly staff. The Gift Shop retails excellent souvenirs of the Sunshine Coast and Super Bee, as well as a full range of honey, honey products, such as pollen and royal jelly, beeswax products and sparkling honey nectar.) The first thing we did was taste all the honey until I felt sick. There were over twenty samples and some were very heavy and tart. The colors ranged from almost translucent amber to a dark brown like molasses. There were a couple of flavors I liked best – the honey comb and the Super Bee Special for instance – so I bought ten of the little jars to bring home as gifts.
We had lunch – fish and chips for me and a jaffel for Sarah. The jaffel was a sandwich made of two pieces of bread squashed together on the grill and filled with meat and cheese. The fish was real and the breading, when peeled away, revealed scales. It made me feel a little sick, but the breading and the fish were absolutely wonderful – the fish melted in my mouth. I couldn’t finish after I saw the scales though. They also gave us more chips than one person could possibly eat. One great thing about food here is that the portions are large and filling for the price paid.
We walked in the gardens after lunch, looking at the trees and plants. I finally got to see lorikeets in the wild (Sarah has talked about them constantly). They are beautifully colorful birds with a sweet little chirp. There were also some things that resembled the unfortunate coupling of a duck and a turkey, but I don’t know what they were called. Of course, I had to get a photo of THAT. There were swans on the lake and we found a Troll Bridge, but alas, no trolls or billy goats. Do you suppose “toll” is a play on the word “troll”? Ha ha.
We then went into the Three Bears’ House and the House that Jack built, where Sarah fulfilled a lifelong desire to sit on the swinging horse (her parents never let her when she was a child and they used to come up here). After that, we went and played in the playground. We climbed the jungle gym and slid down the slide. I got too much momentum on the slide and almost broke my butt. It occurred to me that there is a perfectly good reason why I hadn’t been on a slide in years! I pushed Sarah on the swing, but her legs were too long and scraped the ground. It’s sad that swings are made for young children only. Shouldn’t adults be allowed to play as well? Maybe what this world needs is more recess.
We left Super Bee (souvenirs in hand – they let me keep all the honey at the cash register while we played) to make the journey to Big Pineapple, which was only supposed to be about 7 kilometers away. (If you think I am bothering to translate into miles, think again…) Somehow, we got off the Bruce Highway by mistake and onto the Sunshine Motorway, which led us WAY far North on the Sunshine Coast. NOT where we wanted to be at all!
We got directions in a boondock little town like something out of Priscilla Queen of the Desert (or worse – an Australian version of Deliverance) and headed back the way we thought we came from. About half an hour later we realized we had been given incorrect directions in the wasteland town!
We found ourselves in a town called Nambour about two minutes from complete nervous breakdowns. When we passed the Nambour Chamber of Commerce, I had Sarah pull over. I jumped out and ran in, playing up the dumb tourist routine. We were informed that we were on the right road, but going the wrong way! The Chamber of Commerce Clerk handed us a detailed map, so we turned around and went the correct way, and finally arrived at Big Pineapple – just as they were closing! The only things still open were the gift shop (no surprise there) and the Big Pineapple itself.
Sarah and I climbed to the top of the Big Pineapple, which is made of fiberglass and is hollow inside with the History of the Pineapple emblazoned on its inner walls. The stairway inside goes around and around the Pineapple up through the center until it ends at a landing and outside observation area overlooking the plantation. The view was amazing from up there, especially at sunset, which is when we arrived.
I insisted on visiting the gift shop (since we were there anyway) to finish buying gifts for people back home. We were still on a mad search for the “perfect mug” for Mom, who had requested one. I finally found one I liked and bought it. I also wanted some fresh pineapple, but they had closed the fruit stand and I had to settle with the candied kind. I bought a bunch of Sarah’s favorite pineapple “lollies” and tons of other stuff as well. Then we took the long drive home, feeling a bit worn out from our adventures and finally able to laugh at the absurdity of getting lost and driving in circles all over the Sunshine Coast.
Saturday, I really wanted to go to the Queensland Museum, so we trekked back into the City. I definitely enjoyed the museum (entry cost: nothing! Gift shop located in the main lobby). It’s not very big, but it’s set up well and it’s very spacious and airy.
The first floor has the model of a very large dinosaur indigenous to Australia, but I’m bad with dinosaur types, so I don’t remember what it was called. The way the museum is set up, you can see the dinosaur from every floor.
We spent the most time in the Endangered Species Room, looking at each and every animal in the displays. In all the time white men have been in Australia, only one bird and one reptile have actually become extinct, but many are endangered or vulnerable, including some wombats, wallabies and dugongs (which look a lot like manatees and are harmed the same way our manatees are hurt in coastal waters). Australians are really big on preserving and saving their unique wildlife, which I find to be an admirable trait. I know that Americans do it too, but not to the extent that Australians willingly leave a lot of land undeveloped to keep its creatures and plants alive.
One animal we had fun playing with was a type of turtle that lives in the rivers of Queensland and is endangered. There were a bunch of them in a tank and they seemed almost sentient the way they would come up to the glass and watch us. We named a few (`Spike’, `Dopey’ and `Catfood’) and spent a long time just observing them in a reproduction of their natural habitat. We were disturbed by a bunch of noisy children who, although totally harmless and well behaved, broke the spell of the turtle watching. So we moved on.
The creepiest room by far was were they had taxidermic examples of all the animals native to Australia, past and present. It was way too gross. It was a huge room filled with dead things, both stuffed or in formaldehyde. Yuck. We abandoned that room when a pickled snake icked me out. There were tons of them lined up in jars in a glass display case and I was feeling ill looking at them. We moved on to the Aboriginal History displays, which were detailed and informative, though somewhat sad. Such horrible things have been done to these people! Their art and music fascinate me. The art is so complex and filled with emotion and meaning – each stroke there for a purpose and filled with purpose. I find the music haunting in it’s long tones and resonating notes. If I can afford it, I want a CD of Aboriginal music to take home.
I really enjoyed looking at the Roman, Greek and Egyptian artifacts, as I always do. They, more than anything else, give me a sense of age. Old age and time. I stare at them wondering who held that hand mirror and what did she think about or who carried that little statue of a god mostly forgotten by modern men. I can almost see their faces in my mind as they speak to me across time. I have such a desire to touch history and examine the past. It seems so real to me and I can’t help but think about people who lived, loved and laughed, but vanished into the wheel of time forever.
Monday, May 31, 1999 – 10:00pm: LOGAN CITY, QUEENSLAND
Sunday (yesterday), Sarah and I went to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream because Sarah hadn’t seen it and I didn’t mind seeing it again. Besides, I was curious about Australian movie theatres. There are some glaring and interesting differences, as well as similarities.
First off, there are the ever-present video game machines dotting the lobby. They are all $2.00 per game and the “adult” rated games are behind curtains, keeping young children from seeing all the blood and gore. The theatre personnel actually do regulate the ages of the players and if someone looks suspiciously underage, they are questioned. Even if parents allow it, children are not permitted to play the games in public. I must say I agree with those laws; they are not undermining parental decisions regarding what their offspring may and may not play in their own homes, but it does regulate such games in a public forum. Companies selling games are very adamant about keeping the most violent games out of the hands of the youth, and from what I have heard, children here think it’s very odd that American children even WANT to play adult games. Children here do play video games (Gameboy is the most popular system), but not as extensively. I also like how they support their rules by making it difficult (if not impossible) for children to even see the games much less play them. It does no good to put bans on games for children, then display them openly in the lobby for any eight-year-old to watch. I believe wholeheartedly that adults have the right to play the games they wish and that there should be no bans on such games for adults, but I support the regulations preventing children from accessing the same violent games. Parents have a right to allow their kids to play whatever they want, but I wish more parents would actually find out what it is they are authorizing rather than just granting permission because a child asks. I could go on about this ad nauseum, but I won’t right now!
Including the Eternal Video Games, the lobby was not much different from American theatre lobbies. The concession stand was a big, pleasant surprise. In addition to popcorn, sodas and candy, there was also a small “take away” restaurant where one could purchase salads, quiche, croissants, pies, cookies and cakes, as well as a large variety of juices and coffee. There was even an ice cream bar with prepackaged ice cream and scoop cones available. I had a quiche, along with popcorn and a drink.
After we got the food, we wandered about the lobby a little more. I saw two large leather armchairs up on a display and moved in closer to see what they were about. There was a small placard advertising that for $25.00 each, guests could get the Deluxe Ticket, which was for the leather recliners in a designated area inside the theatre, and included wine, popcorn and soda. Sounded like a pretty good deal to me, but the regular seats were comfortable enough and very roomy. The armrests were like college desks with tables that folded under after food was eaten.
We stopped off at an ATM, where I extracted some money (which immediately was converted into Australian money and my account back home was adjusted accordingly). One good thing about Automatic Deposit is that my paycheck went right in there while I am on vacation.
I wanted to go to a grocery store to pick up some tea and chocolate to bring home. The grocery store was not exactly thrilling, but the shelves were set up very differently, seeming more like a large warehouse, and nothing was labeled, so we were on our own to search for things. I found Turkish Delight cookies and bought a bunch of them, as well as industrial sized packages of Yowies (some for me and some for Sarah). Yowies are chocolates shaped like mythological creatures and inside the hollow shell are plastic capsules with tiny Australian animals inside. The animals have to be assembled and have small booklets explaining what they are and where they live. It’s consider lucky to get a Yowie in one – they don’t have to be assembled for one thing – and local children collect and trade the animals with great aplomb, each vying to obtain Yowie figures. I got one on my first try! I have a nice sized collection of Yowie capsules in my suitcase, which is now filled to the rim with food and tea to take home (all in sealed packages to get past Customs).
That evening, we had reservations at Isabella’s Restaurant. It was a pleasant, leisurely meal. There was kangaroo on the menu, but I couldn’t bring myself to try it, so I ordered a chicken dish that was excellent. It was, of course, served with the ever-present salad that Australians even serve with breakfast. It doesn’t look at all like any salad I’m used to – the greens seem like leaves from a backyard garden, combined with something purple and stringy and some sprouts, then usually a tomato on top. They do not serve salad with dressing most of the time, but when they do, it’s a light vinaigrette. The dessert was a heavenly type of mousse that seemed to melt away with each bite.
Today, we decided to just chill out, so we rented a VCR and some movies. Sarah insisted I had to learn to appreciate South Park, so I agreed (albeit reluctantly) to watch a tape with two episodes. I was appalled to find them hilarious. Oh the horror! My reputation as a Masterpiece Theatre snob has been brutally crushed with one laugh at Mecha-Streisand.
Next, we watched Sarah’s tape of the Australian version of 60 Minutes, which was a segment about Xena. We also watched the Sydney Mardi Gras Parade, which is broadcast on regular TV here. They would NEVER have shown it in the States, but here they showed the bare-chested Amazons and the 100 Marching Xenas, as well as all the flaming guys prancing in the streets. It was extremely entertaining and amusing, to say the least.I think I was surprised at how crowded and well attended the parade was, seeing as it is basically more of a Gay and Lesbian Pride Parade and less of a Mardi Gras celebration. But people were out there with children and you could tell everyone was having a grand old time. Australians are not exactly tolerant of gays, but in Sydney, there is a large, vocal population.
Television here is interesting. There are very few stations to choose from and most people here don’t care if they have only eight channels (because obviously 208 is another example of the excessiveness of Americans). Australia produces mostly children’s shows, game shows and soap operas. The most popular television show produced here is a police drama called Blue Heelers that I really enjoyed. The game shows are way beyond bizarre. What I also found interesting was how popular music videos are and that they listen to music from all over the world. A group called “Aqua” is very big here. I was unpleasantly surprised to turn on the TV here and see Seinfeld and Friends. I asked Sarah if she thought those shows were funny and she admitted she didn’t think they were funny at all. We watched an episode of Friends and I explained all the jokes until she was laughing. It’s baffling to me that so many American shows are huge hits here and no one even gets the jokes. Maybe its akin to how we watch British Comedies and laugh without ever really getting the finer details!
I am currently pretending I don’t have to go home tomorrow.
I am on an Air New Zealand flight somewhere over the Tasman Sea. Of course I was supposed to be on a Qantas flight, but since that flight had to be delayed a few hours and the Qantas people feared I’d miss my connecting flight in Auckland, they made arrangements for me to go on another airline free of extra charge. They even moved my luggage and arranged to send it to Los Angeles. It's amazing how efficient and responsive the Qantas people are. Incredibly so. I didn't have to worry or think about anything. So now I am more or less back on track. Since we are scheduled to arrive in New Zealand at 4:45pm and my next flight leaves at 5:00pm, I hope it all works out. I do know there are two other people on this flight who are also going to Los Angeles, so I guess it's okay. I won't worry yet.
One thing I did in the Brisbane Airport was pick up several Australian magazines (one has a huge article on the new Star Wars film - I may be the only one alive who has NOT seen a trailer for The Phantom Menace, but I don't want any spoilers), as well as a sales ad for pre-purchasing Olympics Tickets. That could be worth something on E-Bay in America if I don't keep it as a souvenir! The magazines are to read in Los Angeles. I am not looking forward to that particular lay over.
Tuesday, June 1, 1999 – 5:15pm: AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND
I'm in the airport in Auckland (finally in New Zealand) with plenty of time to spare, since the next flight is delayed. That's okay - it gives me less time in Los Angeles that way. It's raining, giving veracity to Kevin Sorbo's comments that it always rains in Auckland.
Coming into New Zealand was a beautiful experience - so many volcanoes and hills, with miles and miles of beaches. I saw the famous black beaches from the air and rolling hills similar to (if not the same as) those used in Xena and Hercules. Then I spotted a particularly familiar-looking span of beach close to Auckland. It was so strange seeing it for real instead of on television. I can see why Sam Raimi and Rob Tapert chose New Zealand - it's a truly gorgeous country from what I have seen.
I sat on the plane with my face glued to the cold windowpane, staring wide-eyed at the incredible sights. It seems like an rural and sprawling country, and from our cruising altitude, it seemed all but deserted until we reached Auckland. Then it was if the City just appeared out of the mist and rain like Brigadoon on a moor. We had slight turbulence from the rainstorm, for which the Kiwi Flight Attendants were extraordinarily apologetic, as if they were responsible for the weather. Deplaning, the air was very cold and damp, but I took a deep breath and thought, "I am breathing the same air as Lucy Lawless and Renee O'Connor!" So shoot me for being an overenthusiastic fan! I got my bearings straight and checked a map for where Qantas flights embark. The airport has several racks where detailed maps are available in several languages for free. I grabbed two (one for my scrapbook and one to have), but out of courtesy, I did not take one in each language - though I would have if I didn't think I'd feel guilty later!
Since I had time to spare, I walked at a leisurely pace around the terminal and went into a few shops. I bought some dried kiwifruit and a pretty glass globe with a dolphin in it. I had some Kiwi money because initially I was supposed to be in New Zealand for several hours both ways and I wanted to make sure I had money for snacks and such in case of delays. The exchange rate is almost $2.00 NZ to $1.00 American. I liked using the Kiwi money because it's almost the same as Australian currency and easy to work with - it will be using American money again that will seem odd!
The accents sound so different after spending two weeks hearing Queenslander accents. It's very easy to tell the difference between the two accents. I can't believe I once thought they were so similar!
This airport is really clean and quiet. The people here are extremely friendly and easygoing. They smile as you pass them in the walkways and some even wave and offer chipper greetings in those cool accents they have. I like how pleasant it all seems.
Well, they're boarding now. So much for spending time in New Zealand and so much for a long rest between flights. I WILL RETURN HERE. I promise myself that right now.
Because of the International Dateline, Tuesday is starting all over again for me. Literally - it's not turning into Wednesday right now. It's like turning back the clock and getting the day all over again. We have been in the air less than an hour. I am slightly queasy and I think Sarah's cold has finally caught up with me. I have 13 more hours in the air. This is going to be a long night.
There is a full moon outside my window, beautiful and bright. I have always loved the moon, and seeing it just now gives me a sense of peace and serenity, like someone is watching over me. I like the idea of the moon guiding our journey. I feel safer knowing it's there.
Too bad the peace is being marred by the women in front of me. They are loud, obnoxious and demanding pigs who make me ashamed to be an American. Why are Americans so often so loud and boisterous with cackles that ring through the noisiest areas? I don't mean to knock Americans so much - obviously I'm on and I don't act like that, nor do my friends - but it's frustrating to be summarily lumped in with such obnoxious twits as the tourists in front of me on the sole basis of nationality.
This whole trip, I have been polite and I have spoken quietly, not demanding anything. I thought as a representative of my country, I should be on my "best behavior", but I realized after a while that I was not acting in a manner contrary to my normal way. I treat all people with respect.
While staying at the hotel, Sarah and I regularly ordered Pad Thai "take away" from a nearby Thai Restaurant (it was good and inexpensive). After seeing me several times, the cashier I spoke with each time finally remarked to me, sounding surprised, "You have an American accent."
I nodded and told her I was an American. When she still looked puzzled, I added that I was visiting from Florida. She called another of the women to her side and repeated what I said to her and then said something in her native tongue. The other woman smiled at me and said, "You are too nice. But I just lost $2.00 because I thought you were Canadian."
It's just that I think when I travel I should set a good example and leave people believing Americans CAN be kind and considerate. But then people like the women in front of me prove me wrong.
The Captain just came over the loudspeaker to tell us we will be soon flying over the Cook Islands, followed by Samoa and Hawaii, then it's just Pacific Ocean the rest of the way.
I wonder what the in-flight movies will be. The screen is showing movie reviews now, talking about A Bug's Life. The movie on the flight to Auckland from Brisbane was My Favorite Martian, which was so dumb I only half-watched it while also looking out the window. The empty Tasman Sea was a lot more exciting that that movie! I mean, I tried to watch it, but I just couldn't get into it. First of all, it wasn't funny and second of all (perhaps the greatest sin) was that it was completely predictable.
The obnoxious women in front of me are encroaching on my space. One dropped a coke bottle, then spent fifteen minutes trying to retrieve it without getting up, so she kept knocking into my feet and pushing at my carryon bag in a fruitless attempt to retrieve it. When that didn't work, the whole gaggle of them started moving their seats up and down and wiggling back and forth, though I am unsure what they were hoping to accomplish. I felt like kicking their seats, but I have manners. Finally, I picked up the bottle and pushed it through the area between the seats. Someone grabbed it, but no one thanked me.
The middle seat is empty in my row and the guy on the aisle is not very talkative, which I appreciate. I hate being stuck chatting with strangers on a plane. Once you start, they never shut up! The man is very polite though, but he has only said about three words, so I am unsure if he is Australian or Kiwi. I do know he's going to Seattle because he told me as much when we were getting into our seatbelts and during that boring time between rolling out to the runway and actually taking off.
The in-flight television is now advertising items you can buy while flying. And hey look! We can win an all expenses paid vacation to Florida and a trip package to Universal Orlando by spending $60.00. Bet they'd love it if I won - it would cost me less than $60.00 to get to Orlando!
Now there's an ad for Chicago (the show, not the City). It's touring Australia, with an Aussie cast. They are interviewing the cast now and it looks like a good production - excellent voices. Too bad it wasn't playing while I was there, as I'm very curious about how it will translate, since I don't believe Australia ever had gangsters and gun molls in the 1920s and 1930s, like we did during Prohibition. And the bigger difference is that Australians actually vilify their criminals, not make them into celebrities.
I smell food. May be wishful thinking. I'm actually very hungry, but it could be boredom. I keep thinking about Ellen Degeneres' plane routine about how excited everyone is when the peanuts arrive. Face it, we are in a tin can flying miles in the air with not much to look at or do for over half a day. It makes the snacks seem exhilarative.
Oh great. There are louder, MORE obnoxious Americans standing up across the plane and chatting noisily with a bunch of other passengers, including the snits in front of me. No wonder people in other countries seem to hate us so! They are really disruptive, even with headsets on and they are disturbing the television programs.
Now there is silence at last. Nothing on the television but the flight patterns and it seems to have lulled the masses into a collective stupor. We are south of a place called Noumea that I need to look up in my atlas because I have never heard of it. We have 9 hours and 58 minutes until we arrive in California.
Ooh…here comes the movie. Please let it be good, please let it be good. I don't think I can sit through My Favorite Martianagain! Okay, it's Patch Adams. I can give that one a go.
I'm now in Los Angeles with way too much time on my hands. Too bad I didn't have an extra two hours in New Zealand, because I would have liked that. The airport was so much nicer!
Yuck. Because my back hurts, I want to sit on the floor, like I did in Sydney, but the floor here is kind of gross. I'm drinking Starbucks coffee (cappuccino -my second) and now that I'm sitting, I feel a little shaky, like I'm still on the plane.
There is a Mime circulating the airport terminal. I'm trying to ignore him because I hate Mimes, but it's like a bad accident - I can't turn away. I put a dollar in his hat because I am running low on cash but I try to give something to all buskers. I bought Nancy some See's chocolates at a stand near the Starbucks. I know she loves that brand and it's only available by catalogue orders in Florida. Now I'm staring at the chocolate willing myself not to break it open and go hogwild.
I slept a good six hours on the plane. They showed Rushmore sometime during the night, but I didn't see any of it. Then they played A Bug's Life over breakfast but skipped the best part (the bloopers at the end) to show us a travelogue of Los Angeles. On Qantas, even in the 90-minute flight from Sydney to Brisbane we had a TV to watch and music to listen to. I think that's a very nice feature.
When we landed, I finished the last of my frutips pastilles, which have kept me from suffering from extreme nausea most of this trip. I should have brought more in Brisbane. I still have two more flights.
I need another cappuccino.
The atmosphere between Australia/New Zealand and Los Angeles is completely different. And I'm not just talking about smog. I mean the people are different. The people here seem less friendly and a lot more unforgiving. I don't know how to explain it better than that, but I'll try.
The line at Customs went on forever here and in Brisbane, but there was a huge difference in how we were treated. In Brisbane, the workers were cheerful and helpful and the people waiting near me in other lines were quiet and did not push and shove or bitch about the wait. Here, I was jostled twice, had to listen to a woman scream at a customs officer and was not even greeted or smiled at when I got to the front of the line. The people waiting were snarly and impatient and the air was heavy and hot.
I miss Australia. But I also miss Florida and will be happy to be home.
I stopped writing there because I had a fourth cappuccino and started using my prepaid calling cards to phone all my friends in Florida, where it was late afternoon. The rest of the trip was uneventful, but my cats seemed happy to have me home. Jadzia showed her displeasure by leaving me an unmentionable gift on my pillow. I threw away the pillow case.
So ends another of the wonderful journeys in my life.
