Wildlife in the Road

Traffic jam

There is no animal more invincible than a woman, nor fire either, nor any wildcat so ruthless.

-- Aristophanes

Aftermath

We took a drive around Cairns (pronounced “Cans”) today, downtown, which looks pretty much the same as five years ago, and up into the Tablelands, which looks very different.

This region was hit by Cyclone Larry about two months ago, and Jorge and I are having a hard time comprehending it. For a Category 5 storm, there is minimal structural damage even though many of the houses are nothing more than fiberboard and corrugated tin. If you didn’t know there had been a storm, you would probably assume the areas with the damage were just run down neighborhoods. Anyone who has been to Punta Gorda or Port Charlotte lately knows that over one year later, there are still places completely wrecked. And what about New Orleans and the rest of the Gulf Coast? Think you could miss the mess there? I don’t know how these people did it. Business as usual. They couldn’t possibly have fixed everything that quickly.

The biggest and saddest destruction was to the rainforested mountains surrounding the city. The hilltops are dramatically thinned and brown. You can see the forest for the trees. Sure, it’ll come back, but it’s still tragic.



Cassowaries, the big, prehistoric looking, flightless birds have been having a difficult time too after the storm blew all their food supplies away. Recent news reports have them holding kids up for their lunches on the way to school. These birds are dangerous, disemboweling victims with their enormous, razor sharp toes. You are supposed to remain still and avoid eye contact if you encounter one in the wild; not roll down your car window and talk to it. This one strolled right up to our vehicle, causing Jorge to panic and roll up his window at the last moment when it appeared he might actually stick his head inside the car and hold us up for our Tim Tams.






It is far from easy to determine whether she [Nature] has proved to man a kind parent or a merciless stepmother.

-- Pliny the Elder

Food

We have been incredibly lucky finding beautiful accommodations, -- except for the backpackers hotel in Auckland, which was clean and neat enough, but germaphobia kept me from taking a shower until we got to a real hotel -- and the food has been good too.

Good but strange.

Whatever possessed us to eat in a place named Montezuma’s Revenge?!

I’m pretty sure I only consumed liquids the last time I was in Mexico, so it’s possible the food that passes for Mexican in the United States is really some Gringo aberration, though we are at least on the same continent, but I’m pretty sure a chicken burrito containing mashed potatoes and almonds is not terribly authentic.


What is food to one, is to others bitter poison.

-- Lucretius

Lessons

So far homeschooling has not required me to open up The Trunk. I’ve been carrying Bulfinch’s Mythology along in my bag and pulled it out the other day reading aloud a few chapters when we hit one especially featureless stretch of road. Sarabelle and Grice know the stories better than I do and Elle has been requesting I read some more stories from The Book.

That’s history and literature.

On Mackay Beach, at extreme low tide, just before sunset when the beach stretches out for miles, we observed billions of little crabs making their homes by rolling sand balls out of their holes, scattering them around the entrance.

There were also worms and snails.

That’s science.

www.flickr.com

I grow old ever learning many things.

-- Solon

North

GRANDPARENTS, PLEASE, REFRAIN FROM READING THIS FIRST PARAGRAPH...

We hiked two kilometers up a mountain to Finch Hatton Gorge, and Elle, whose middle name should have been "Danger," had her first near miss when crossing a small outcrop of rocks in the river. She let go of my hand after landing on the other side, but lost her footing and slipped, landing on her belly in shallow water, and then proceeded to slide feet first over the edge of a waterfall. In an instant I was able to grab her by the forearm averting tragedy, but I'm pretty sure I'll be having nightmares about it for a long time. Then I had to pick some kind of parasitic worm off her leg.

...AND BEGIN READING HERE:

Jorge, Sarabelle and Gracie, hereinafter to be known as "Grice" after that flew out of my mouth yesterday, spoken like a true Aussie, to many shocked expressions (mine included), took a dip in a spectacular swimming hole at the top of the mountain trail. After much convincing Sarabelle and Grice took off their shirts and cooled off with their Dad. Sarabelle kept her bra on while Grice was completely topless. I promised that on the remote chance someone did show up, we would call her Greg and no one would be the wiser. Elle and I, already having enough of the water, sat on the banks and waited for them to finish.

We have been in Australia six nights. What is boggling is that we have only visited Queensland ("The Sunshine State.") The state of Queensland is about four times the size of California, and a drive from Brisbane to Cairns ("Where the Rainforest Meets the Reef") is nearly the equivalent of driving from Fort Lauderdale to New York City. The entire highway so far on the main north-south corridor has been two-lane traffic. It's a big country.


Fortune favors the brave.

-- Pliny the Elder

Quick History Lesson

We kicked off this trip with a QANTAS flight from Los Angeles to Auckland piloted by Captain Cook and then today spotted this marker in a neighborhood of the tiny town of Seventeen-Seventy commemorating the visit of another Captain Cook.

The plaque reads: Under the lee of this point Lieutenant James Cook, R.N. landed on 24th May ______.

Pop Quiz:

Fill in the blank. A packet of Vegemite to the first person with the correct answer.

Here is the view from the Banks memorial lookout, in that same neighborhood, honoring Cook’s shipmate, botanist Joseph Banks, whose name is attached to at least 75 species of plants.

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.

-- Thomas Stearns Eliot

Blight

Unfortunately, Ronald, that’s too true.

One disappointment so far has been the proliferation and omnipresence of corporate entities from the States: McDonalds, Burger King, KFC, Target, K-Mart, Dunkin’ Donuts, Baskin Robbins, etc. We didn’t notice them much four years ago, then again we stayed out of the bigger cities, but the sign above appeared in the very small, picturesque beach village of Bargara, just outside the town of Bundaberg.

I prefer to support local businesses, except for maybe this shopping center which hosts a surgery center, butcher, and food bank, side by side.



In the news, the big talk is of government privatization, outsourcing, obesity, and the development of nuclear power facilities, so it appears Australia is following the same path as the United States.


Whatever crushes individuality is despotism, by whatever name it may be called.
--John Stuart Mill

DAY ONE, AGAIN, BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA

We’ve all somewhat recovered from the exhaustion of jet lag, and at 3:00 AM sharp, we are all up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready for the day’s activities. Today was a day for catching up on all our online business, emails, swapping rental cars, and setting up phone service. Boring, in other words.

But it’s done, and tomorrow we’ll head north, to the Tablelands of Far North Queensland, an area we are fairly familiar with, where Jorge can have his tropical flora and I can have my cooler climate at the same time. And casinos nearby! And elevation! Because you know I have to be above that high water mark when the polar ice caps finally melt.

From what the Australian Immigration authorities told us yesterday, once we establish some sort of residence, renting being an acceptable alternative, we can apply for a Returning Resident Visa from several months to five years in length depending on how sad a story we can tell. Prepare yourselves for a real tearjerker.

We’re still planning on a visit to New Zealand, but it will have to be at the end of our trip (sorry, Michele.)

I can proudly say that after less than 48 hours, we can tell the difference between a New Zealand accent and an Australian accent, something of a credit to us if you ask a Kiwi. New Zealanders are more British and proper sounding and swap the vowels “i” and “e”; “sex” and “tin” are numbers. Australians are more nasal and swap even more vowels; “bait rice” is a speed competition between sailing vessels. If you clench your teeth and hardly open your mouth, you’d pretty much sound like an Aussie. Speaking of accents, I thought it would be me, the one who begins saying things like, “How ah yah sistahs?” the minute I get on the phone with Boston family, but, no, it turned out that Jorge is the Madonna of our group, already turning his sentences up at the end as if everything he says is a question.

Today’s quote, courtesy of Becky:


It is a bad plan that admits of no modification.

-- Publilius Syrus

DAY ONE, AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND

The weather seemed to mirror our mood. A glorious dawn greeted us as we picked up our rental car and headed out from the airport. Clouds gathered as we ventured from our backpacker hotel to the offices of New Zealand Immigration Services. By the time we left the office it was a downpour.

We got the boot.

All three officials we spoke with gave us slightly different information, but all agreed that we had better get into Australia before our residency expired and we had nothing at all.


For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.

-- Robert Louis Stevenson

Here We Go

Thanks to the recommendation of one of my co-workers, Ford, we spent our layover on Venice Beach, California. Young Circle in Hollywood, Florida, and Mallory Square in Key West have got nothing on Venice. This was the premier freak show. After wandering around enjoying the sights, sounds, pipe shops, tarot card readers, and a terrific lunch, we flopped down in the sand and took naps with our four bags of carry-on luggage and cool-weather clothing, adding to the ambiance of the place.

Maybe you can't tell in the photo, but this guy was on Rollerblades (and his cell phone.) You can tell by the photo that Sarabelle and Gracie do not want to get too close.

Iacta alea est.

-- Julius Caesar