Cairns and Airlie Beach were hot, but arriving further south in Brisbane there’s no let up. The thermometer dips below 30° at night, but not far. When it rains, it turns humid. Everything is a supreme effort. Life slows down even further. Underneath my dinosaur duvet cover I’m melting. Then I remind myself it’s around freezing in the UK and I quit wanting to moan.
I’m staying with old friends here and 9 year old Lochlan has relinquished his bedroom for my stay. I have the run of the house, washing machine and daytime custody of the dog, Tyro. A rescue hound, he is wary of me for the first couple of days, but after a few ice cubes, an empty yoghurt pot and a walk round the block I am his new best friend. We bond. My days are very chilled, doing very little of note and feeling at home. The tiny pool is a welcome place to cool off, but my companion doesn’t agree. Unusually, he doesn’t like the water. He will sit and watch me though. And chase the postman down the road. I feel protected.
I venture out to the local mall one day with a list, having bribed Tyro with a frozen turkey leg. I wish I hadn’t bothered. After 3 months away from big shops this is a nightmare experience and I want to run away screaming. Mission accomplished I head home and pour a gin.
Out here on the outskirts of the city the bush is close and cicadas are a constant soundtrack day and night. In the evenings parrots, lorikeets and fruit bats shriek and call. I’m getting very used to this. There are signs about koalas being active in the area, but they are elusive. Unsurprising as they always seem to be comatose when I’ve seen them in wildlife parks. Shame, it’s one of the native animals I’ve not seen in the wild. Insects are another matter. They appear everywhere and are big. Thankfully I escape a spider encounter. Love that a huge black and turquoise butterfly flew past as I lolled in the pool one afternoon.
Weekend family activities find us at an inflatables water park (think ‘Total Wipeout’). With a recently broken toe, this is not too clever, but I have a go. We all fall in many times, as does everyone else. It’s a lot of fun and we round off the day with superb fish & chips nearby. The following weekend is a treetop challenge site, all ropes, wires, flying foxes, obstacles and zip wires in the rainforest. There is something amazing about whizzing through the gum trees with cockatoos flapping alongside you. Brilliant, but my comfort zone is tested on a couple of the wobblier ones. I should worry. The 9 year old gets stuck on the big zip wire, right in the middle, high above the ground. He dangles for 5 long minutes or so before he is freed, uncomplaining. I am humbled. Not so the kookaburra who swoops over our neighbours lunch, repeatedly stealing chips until he overturns a whole carton. Cheeky !
More my style is an afternoon’s racing on a 50ft yacht out of the Royal Queensland Yacht Squadron. WAGS (Wednesday Afternoon Gentleman’s Sailing) has turned into an opportunity for non-members to roll up and sail. It’s a superbly appointed and run club and I’m assigned to a good boat. We have a cracking afternoon racing round Green Island. One of the crew is a local guy who is usually based in the Hamble, rigging superyachts for the well-heeled. He’s home for a few weeks, so steps aboard to bring his pretty impressive experience to the boat. They give me the helm for the final leg and I do my best. We do well, but fare better in the bar sweepstake.
The guys recommend I visit another offshore island, North Stradbroke. ’Straddie’ is a sand island larger and a mile or two offshore of Green Island. My hosts concur so I book a place on the ferry and a bed for a couple of nights. More on that in another post…
My last evening is at an 82nd birthday party for the lovely Beatrice. We have a huge takeaway curry as her choice and wash it down with a few beers. Superb !
On the way to the airport for my next flight I realise I’ve not ventured in to the city at all. Nor have I wanted to.