Returning to Oz
From Down Unda in Brisbane, Australia on May 28 '08
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We returned to Australia at the Brisbane airport and were welcomed by a welcome but unfamiliar feeling: Warmth. From the day we touched down in Christchurch we'd been buffeted by a chill wind and had to go to great lengths to hide from it. But once back in Australia and once at our friends Andrew and Jesika's house, the warmth seeped into every pore and I flung off my long pants and boots and chugged on my shorts and flip flops. Never, I declared, will I take these off again (and so far I haven't)(well ok I have.)
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We saw Brisbane and liked it very much. We spent much time at the state library in the west end where there was free internet and cafes overlooking the river. In the evenings we'd return to Andrew and Jesika's and take turns making dinner and drinking bottles of wine and beer and having great conversations about New York, photography, cats, Queensland and anything else that mattered. We almost certainly overstayed our welcome with them and felt horribly guilty, but couldn't bring ourselves to leave this latest safe haven. One of my clients, The Rabbi, caught up with me in Brisbane and convinced me to do some work, which turned into much work and had me hunkered over Jesika's computer in the dead of night, horrified that my mouse clicks where echoing like firecrackers in an alley.
We were met by a marching band made up of old ladies
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Jesika left half way through our stay, to New York of all places, so we kept Andrew and their two charasmatic kitties company. We took a day trip to a fantastic waterpark called Whitewater that we basically had to ourselves and repeatedly ran up and down the stairs splashing and hollering in Queensland's dwindling water supply. The best ride turned out to be a high green tube called "the green room" that dropped us through soaking darkness and then shot our inflatable into a gigantic funnel laying on its side. Spinning and yelling we shot high up the walls of the funnel, back and forth, lower and lower until being dumped down the drain into a frothy basin. Then we did it again.
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We also took two days to visit the sand island of North Stadbroke where much of Brisbane spends its summer. Being winter now though, Straddie was dead and made us feel like we'd stumbled upon the snoozing body of a huge vacation giant. The shops were closed, our little backpackers was run by a man in a ganja induced coma, and the roaring surf made the Main Beach unswimmable. The snores of the beast. We were there for the full moon though, the third remarkable place in a row where we've seen its fat white face rise over a sea cloaked in purple clouds. It was magic. On our second day we sat on the rocks of Point Lookout and watched dolphins swim and surf the breakers, gliding in unison down shear blue walls of water then arcing off to shoot out of the crest and through the air. The small crowd that was watching with us gasped with delight at the performance. We also saw a huge turtle and the shadowy shape of a Manta Ray swimming in the deep.
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With the rest of the island asleep, we decided to join it and spent the day sunning ourselves and snorkling in the warm clear water. After a spectacular sunset and the following moonrise we cleared out of town under the cover of darkness. The giant never batted an eyelash.
Just when things seemed too sleepy though, we were met, as we came off the ferry back on the mainland, by a marching band made up of old ladies. They pounded and drummed and rattled in a big circle around the ferry parking area and then, as we sat waiting for our bus to leave, quietly dispersed. The bus driver, a wicked old coot, winked and told us the song they were playing was an American military tune called "The Black Cat Piddled in the White Cats Eye" I thanked him for sharing. He honked and waved after he dropped us off.
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Trying, unsuccessfully, to pretend we weren't still occupying futonspace at Andrew's, we left Brisbane again and headed down to Byron bay on the Gold coast for two days. Byron Bay is a famous surf spot and a great place to learn how, so we signed up for a couple of classes and spent several hours of both of our days "surfing", though "surfing" looked a lot like swimming and dodging fast moving boards awkwardly strapped to our ankles. Actually thanks mainly to the instructors, and our big long foamy boards, we both managed to stand up and I think we could even do it again if we had to.
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We finally left Andrew in peace on Monday, Magda found a great deal on a relocation for a camper van, moving it from Brisbane to Cairns over five days, for a dollar a day. They are basically paying us to take a drive up one of the most beautiful coasts in the world.
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