What trumps a carpet python in the ladies room, you ask?
We flew to Lady Elliot Island yesterday~a small island that sits at the southernmost tip of the Great Barrier Reef~one of the Seven Wonders of the World and a must-see for Michael before we leave Australia.
Yesterday we were happy and hopeful and excited to be flying in this.
That's our pilot next to Mike. I know. I know. He looks about fourteen. But he did a great job getting us there. And Mike got to sit in the co-pilot's seat. We headed to this:
Thirty minutes after leaving Hervey Bay Airport, we landed on this green grassy landing strip. Mike took these pictures from the co-pilot's seat. 
We had a couple of hours of orientation at the eco resort on the island, which included a fascinating reef walk with the locals. We waded up to our knees in reef shoes and picked up live creatures I thought only existed in Stephen Spielberg movies.
This island is made up entirely of coral~under your feet, under the water~all hard, broken and unbroken, blindingly white coral shells. Giant turtles nest on the beach at night.
We were able to watch the fish feed, which sounds like nothing special, BUT thousands of fish come to shore from the wide expanse of ocean at 3:00 pm sharp EVERY DAY because they have been fed there every day at that time for 50 years. We stood in the reef waters and the fish nibbled our toes as they searched for the food from the employee. How do they know when it is 3:00 pm? Does one of them carry a Timex and signal the others?
The accommodations were minimal: ticky-tacky "eco cabins," and many with no bathrooms, although we had one, thank goodness. The food was communal and edible, but nothing to rave about. The company was fun. We met a couple from Davis, California, who were just off a 5-week stint in India studying elephants. We had dinner with them that evening.
But...shortly after our guided reef walk, it started raining. And raining. And raining.
It poured all night and the cabin was not much more than a tent and so we were up most of the night with the noise of the rain. The next morning we ate breakfast and worried. It hadn't stopped raining. The glass-bottom boat tour, included in our package, had been canceled. So had all the snorkeling and diving ~ the main reasons to visit the remote island. There is nothing else on it.
We were to leave on a plane at 4pm that day, but with everything canceled and minimal shelter, what would we do for the next eight hours? We went to the office to see if we could catch an earlier flight and the reception area was a mob scene. Apparently, everyone else was worried too. We snagged two seats on the 9:20 am flight out, looked at our watch which said 9:00 and the employee said, "RUN." We threw our wet clothes in our bags and ran back to the runway. Everyone on the island was gathered to see if the planes could even take off. Now the green grassy runway looked like a swimming pool with muck at the bottom. The small planes would sit on the "runway" and wait for a break in the torrential downpour, gun it, and slam down the runway as fast as they could to lift off before hitting the ocean. Here is our pilot, soaking wet.
As they said it could rain for days, we weighed our options, and decided if the first plane did well, we'd hop on the second one~our designated flight. We lucked out as the owner of the airlines happened to be on our flight, and so he took over the helm and gunned it with all his might. We lifted off, and everyone (all six of us) whooped with delight as we crossed the choppy sea. It was a Wonder all right.
"Stay to the left. Stay to the left. Stay to the left. Stay to the left." = The mantra heard over and over inside our car these days. We chant it as we drive, much like singing Old McDonald to children. Oh, you think it is so simple, my friends? If you haven't already experienced this pleasure, try driving in a country where you don't know where you are going, the wheel is on the RIGHT, the car must stay on the LEFT, and wait...there is more: There is a roundabout every couple of hundred yards and it spits cars out in all directions at once. Add in a couple of right turns into busy traffic~staying on the left the entire time~but watching out for traffic coming at you from the right, and the fun never ends!
Speaking of fun, we had a fun-filled day yesterday on Fraser Island. If you know us well, you know we are NOT tour people, but to see Fraser Island you really must be on some sort of tour~hard to explain why...just take my word for it. Unable to handle even the thought of a bus filled to capacity with 48 folks~schlepping us around, we hired a Hummer complete with an adorable Aussie named Neil for the day.
Here I am with "our" Hummer and Neil:
But I am ahead of myself...We caught the 8:00 a.m. BARGE across Hervey Bay to Fraser Island with Neil and two other people~an adorable young couple, Jenn~a Brit, and Stewart~an Irishman, from England on their honeymoon. Their TEN-month-long honeymoon. You read it right! Sounds dreamy, doesn't it?
The barge was just that. A basic barge filled with dozens of extremely excited schoolchildren on a field trip. We crouched in a corner and wondered what we had gotten ourselves into. Neil (notice the first name basis?) drove us off the barge and into the rainforest where he instructed us to take the path by foot through the rainforest and he would meet us at the other end (a 40-minute walk) with a surprise. It was glorious. Both the walk and the surprise. We were met at the other end by a beautifully set picnic table with coffee, tea, a generous slice of divine chocolate cake, and cookies. We took off again and to our surprise, Neil drove right off the "tracks" (for that's what they were~no real roads on the island) and kept going onto the wide expanse of beach where we rocketed down the sand for many miles~all the while being entertained by Neil and his storytelling: The history of the island is fascinating, as is the ride down the beach; seaplanes landing in front of us, posted mileage-per-hour signs, and dingo warnings.
We stopped and saw the sights along the way~a freshwater creek, Lake McKenzie where the sand is rumored to cure-all, and colored sand dunes. Lunchtime found us in another camp-type setting, where we drove right past a passive dingo sitting under a tree near some folks. He didn't look anything like the picture at left. More like a mild-mannered golden retriever. But apparently, you are not to be lulled into complacency with these wild creatures. There are warnings everywhere on the island.
We poured out of the Hummer and Jenn took off first to use the restroom. SCREAM. COMING FROM JENN. She came running, doing the dance of the terrified, unable to speak. Finally...snake...snake...snake...was all she could manage. Earlier in the day, Jenn and I had bonded over our shared phobia of snakes and although I felt so bad for her now, I secretly felt validated/vindicated when I saw this sophisticated English woman hopping up and down in terror. Apparently, a rather LARGE python was sunning itself at the entrance to the ladies room. I said a little prayer that I had decided to eat first and then use the facilities later. And I shared all these feelings with Jenn later. Because. Well, just because. That is me.
Neil went to investigate and came back to report that it was "just" a carpet python. Oh, that made us feel SO much better. They aren't poisonous, they just SQUEEZE you to death. Lovely.
On that note, Neil cracked open the Australian wine and we all agreed that Jenn needed to be served first. She downed two glasses and by the end of our lovely lunch in individual wicker baskets filled with sandwiches, fruits, more sweets, and beer, red and white wine, we were laughing and exchanging stories about drinking games. Okay. Mike and I were just listening. Apparently, this is a shared Aussie/British/Irish thing. Proper behavior be damned when one of you has almost stepped on a python the size of a Buick.
We made our way back to the barge at the end of the day, and as it was lightly raining and we couldn't face the raucous students all the way back on the barge trip, Neil served us Champagne with strawberries and chocolate in the Hummer on the barge trip, and we toasted and laughed our way back to the mainland. Jenn confessed that their families thought they were "mad" to be on this long around-the-world trip right after their wedding with no jobs on the horizon. I told them I thought it was the perfect thing to be doing. I hope Jenn and Stewart have a wonderful life!
A few observations after a couple of weeks Down Under:
1. I am a flat white convert. It puts any other coffee drink to shame.
2. Fish and chips for lunch are scrumptious AND expensive: $25 - $30 a plate!
3. Anything tastes better with a scoop of ice cream added (just ask the Aussies).
4. Australians are so friendly, helpful, open, and caring ~ I finally asked one of them, "What's up with that?" She (a 78-year-old woman who has never stepped foot outside of the Brisbane area) told me that they "just tend to be relaxed and laid-back, and they grow up helping their friends and neighbors." Um. We could learn something here?
5. Kerb = curb
6. Nappies = diapers
7. My daughter, our designated driver, can negotiate the traffic roundabouts like she was born here.
8. Turkeys are plentiful and run wild here in Noosa, but if you ask the butcher for one for your Thanksgiving table, he looks at you like you are nuts.
9. I am so incredibly thankful to be with my family here in this tropical paradise. Or anywhere.
We went to sleep on a nine-hour overnight British Airways flight from Bangkok and woke up in Sydney, Australia. Culture shock. We stumbled into the Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel at 7 a.m. Saturday local time. Oldest hotel in Sydney.
The young woman, Courtney, running the place was lovely~she took pity on us and set us up in our room right away, even though check-in is not officially until the afternoon. To enter the hotel, you enter the pub first. It was eerily quiet in the morning.
We fell into a deep sleep~ jet-lagged, getting-over-Bangkok~type sleep. When we woke up and stumbled downstairs in the early afternoon we were in shock. By the time we hit the landing on our third floor room it sounded like a raging party. It was just the pub gearing up for Saturday night~packed to the rafters with people drinking homemade brew with names like Nelson's Blood and Three Sheets. Nary a floor board could be seen. The crowd spilled out onto the sidewalk outside the hotel. Everyone was unfailingly polite though. Someone stopped Michael to ask him if he had ever been told he looks like Anthony Quinn. (Yes, he has.)
We could barely wind our way through the bodies to escape out the pub door, which explained why Courtney had showed us a side door exit early that morning, "just in case."We've had a great couple of days exploring our neighborhood, The Rocks, and learning Aussie terms such as Flat White (coffee with milk prepared by pouring microfoam~steamed milk from the bottom of a pitcher~over espresso.) First morning I just stared at the waitress with my blurry-eyes when she asked, "Youwantaflatwhite?" Uh? Not only that they apparently put ice cream in and on just about everything: iced coffee has a big dollop of vanilla added along with the whipped cream, and pancakes come with a scoop on top. What, is everyone twelve? It sure does taste good though.
But seriously, I don't think I've ever been to a country where the people are so obviously friendly, open, and helpful.
Maybe it has something to do with the consumption of all the Nelson's Blood? We were determined to find out. So this evening where could you find us? That's right. "Our pub." Mike had an Admiral and I tasted Victory. To heck with the side door...
