Wet Heat and Vitriol
July 1, 2005Happy Canada Day.
Machans Beach, Queensland, Australia
8:39am
I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.
Steph just left for a power walk. Hud is watching a spin off of Sesame Street. I am sitting in a “Sou-Wester” chair on the front porch, hoping the flimsy wooden knockoff will continue to support me until I am done writing.
I woke up last night at 2:00am and fell back asleep at 4:40am. I tried every room in the house, hoping to catch a wave of slumber. I think it was the homemade pizza that woke me up. Like a sausaugy oniony apparition, this gurgly ghost startled me to upright, and forced me to swallow back the acid making a surprise return appearance from the bubbling depths of my stomach. I picture my stomach like an acid soaked version of Hades, with little demons floating on pieces of salami or peanut butter on toast, sticking their pitchfork tines into the walls, making me suffer for what I chose to ingest.
I just made a pot of tea and when I returned to the computer, John, the next-door neighbour was sitting on his porch. He is shirtless, and man is he tanned. He makes George Hamilton look like the ghost of an albino in winter. I am pretty sure you could make a nice attaché case out of his torso. My guess is he is about 65 and been wondering Machans Beach with a smoke and some grog for the last 30 years or so. Good on ya mate.
Yesterday we all woke up at the same time and headed out to Cairns to see the actual city. It was interesting. It is the gateway to all the surrounding adventure, including the Great Barrier Reef and the rainforests further north. We were only able to walk along the esplanade, about six or seven blocks of hostels, tour operators, one-hour photo labs and cafes. It is a little obnoxious and a little cute. Its not like the operators were on the street, barking their separate adventures on a big bullhorn. We are going to do one maybe two days of adventure here. We are not going to rush into it, as we want to find out what the best part of the reef is to see, and do not want to be herded like cattle onto a giant boat and gift shopped to death.
So we gathered some brochures and I went to try to post at a café while Steph let Hud play in the Lagoon, a massive saltwater pool right on the Cairns coast. The reason for the pool is they do not have beach. They have kilometers and kilometers of low tide yuck, impossible for swimming. But the pool still attracted hoardes of people. A lot of these people being the many backpackers from all over the world that have chosen Cairns as a to do list city. Many of these backpackers, about 70 per cent, seem to be female, roughly between 20 and 25. Many of these females were clad in bikinis. Woe is me.
“I’ll play with Hud in the water Hun, why don’t you go drink your cappuccino over there, read some brochures, we’re fine.….” (insert dramatic hand gesture)
Needless to say, while the scenery was pretty spectacular, it did prevent me from taking off my shirt, feeling insecure surrounded by this fake sea of international polka dot bikinis. I shouldn’t care. But I do.
Around lunch we pried Hud’s feet from the pool and my eyes from the boobs and walked back to the car. We ate while driving, stopping at the Liquor Barn to pick up a six for me and three bottles of wine for Steph, including a six-dollar Chardonnay we have yet to open.
We drove up the coast past our turn off to Trinity Beach, one of the five beaches north of Cairns that are suitable for swimming. Swimming only between June and September that is, as Stingers (Jellyfish) invade the waters in the warmer months. That is nine months of these beautiful silky sand beaches desolate due to the plethora of Stingers, some of which are 3cm long and invisible and occasionally lethal. Nature is so fucked sometimes.
I carried sleeping Hud to a nice spot under the shade of a tree. He woke up but was very docile and remained lying beneath a towel, another towel under his head. He stared at me while I read, occasionally lifting his head to point at a plane or the buoy bobbing in the water. He eventually sat up and started playing in the giant sandbox to him, beach to us. Steph and I swam in the 70 degree water and watched him ignore us.
We dried off and read while he played, not once in an hour asking for help, or a playmate, complacent with his own active imagination. Eventually it was time to go, so I snatched Hud up and took him into the ocean, him complaining all the way. He stopped screaming once we started jumping the waves and waiting for a big one, him so long in my arms now.
We dried off and put Hud into dry warm gritty clothes and drove home. I made two pizzas, one sausage, onion and red pepper, the other tomato, basil, red pepperr and pineapple. We ate outside, waving to the many dog walkers walking past.
Hud went to sleep easy. Steph and I watched trashy television. Me feeling guilty for not writing my novel.
We went to bed at 10. You know the rest.
Love to all,
J.
June 29, 2005
Machans Beach, north of Cairns, Queensland, Australia
4:09 pm.
They say Cairns like Cannes as in the film festival location.
It was about 26 degrees Celsius when we stepped off the plane yesterday around 1:00pm. It’s wet heat, like Fiji. I welcomed the respite from the Fijian heat in Victoria, but there is something about getting off the plane and peeling off your clothes and letting the humidity sink into your pores like teeth into nougat. I am a balmy banana.
It is amazing how drastically the climate changed in traveling only 2800 miles. It feels like a tropical island here, and I guess it is literally. I guess I am just amazed at obvious things. Like palindromes and vulvas.
The baggage claiming and car rental retrieving went smooth. Hud was pretty decent on the plane, but started to hit the wall in the airport and become manic and hyper, not unlike a baboon. We crammed all our bags in the smaller and whiter car and followed the directions we were e-mailed to our new place just north of Cairns. With Steph at the wheel and me giving directions we were able to get to Birri Bana (our cottage) without her fingernails embedded in my throat and without my satanic sarcasm embedded her psyche. It was an easy 10-minute drive from the airport.
Well. Birri Bana is pretty great. We are now three for three in long distance domicile choosing. Of course this place could handle about six more people, so if anyone is considering a last minute vacation to Australia, there is definitely room here. It is a two story, 4 bedroom house directly facing the Pacific Ocean.
Way to much room for the three of us, but what are you going to do? We are literally 10 steps from the water. I am on the front porch right now listening to the surf. But we kind of figured it was going to be nice due to the amount of money we are paying. So our goal here is to see the sights yes, but spend some time hanging around the house. It is large enough to find a quiet nook and read or just revel in some alone time. Hud’s bedroom is attached to the indoor sun porch, which spans the back of the house. It is huge and all his toys are everywhere. The moment we unpacked, I held the knapsack containing his toys upside town and watched his sparkling face dance as each truck bounced off the spare futon and on to the floor.
Go nuts Hudder nudder fudder dudder butter bean, you’ve got the biggest room in the joint.
Our room and the spare room beside us face the ocean.
There is a large deck off both rooms with a small two-seat chair underneath a light. I can picture late nights reading, or out there pounding out cheesy alliteration for my novel. 20 pages in 20 days. That’s my goal.
So the place is nice, hearing the ocean is nice, but the actual beach (Machans Beach) is actually not great. It is only walkable for about two hours at low tide, all other times the water laps right up and onto the rock wall protecting the house across the small street. So we can hear it, but to just walk down to it and jump in may prove more difficult. Although I will attempt it, just cause I can, and therefore have to.
Keith, the owner of Birri Bana, was here when we arrived outlining all the dos and don’ts, the please nots, the please watch out fors, typical landlord crud. They are very organized about this rental, with all items in the house printed out on nice yellow personalized piece of paper for theirs, and I guess our protection. We have been instructed not to wear our shoes indoors as all the floors are hardwood. Maybe Keith old chum should have had a quick gander at the toe talons that were about a week away from scraping as I walked. I have since cut them, and my hands are sore from doing so.
So unpacked and comfortable we bolted to the grocery store to fill the fridge with our favourite thing in the world - food. Before we did, we met John, our tanned and old neighbour who was lit up like an Irishman on Friday night. He also smelled of smoke and I was not sure if I was disgusted or wanted to lick his skin. Needless to say, his skin remained dry and rank and we were off to the grocery store.
250 bones later we were fully stocked for at least the next twenty minutes. Hud of course fell asleep at around 5pm so we had to wake him for fries and salad twenty minutes later. He was not amused. But he calmed down after a couple of steak cut fries with tomato sauce. That’s ketchup for all you alternate hemispherians. I fell asleep putting Hud to bed and then woke up to watch CSI, wondering why I never watched this show at home. I went to bed a little bit before ten and woke up in Hud’s bed. His head on my stomach.
This morning we checked the budget and argued a little about life philosophies. We were civil this time and ended with some resolutions and mutual desires to not be home by October. As mentioned, no matter what, we will satisfy all our commitments to our scheduled itinerary. We will not be coming home early. Even if I have sell an ear or a testicle.
After lunch of cheese and crackers with apples, we walked five minutes down the road to a beach where Hud could build roads and we could read our books. I think we are afraid to start exploring the area for fear we are going to spend too much money. We are hoping we learned our lesson in Sorrento, with our one big trip costing too much, and ruining our allotted budget. It was awful though, having such a good time, and then coming back and clutching your heart adding up how much we spent on basically nothing. Alas, awareness is key, and one of us saying the word no every once and awhile might help.
Hud enjoyed the beach. Of course he did.
Occasionally I stare at him and get a hit of remorse, thinking us taking him away like we did was not a good idea. Taking him away from other kids, his extended family, stealing his house out from under him, his dog gone, his toy room surely painted over. But when he runs down the bank of the beach and trips over a wave landing headfirst into another wave, only to laugh like a high hyena and grab onto my leg for support, I think he’ll be all right.
I ferociously love him.
Him who is again asleep right now at 5:30.
Falling asleep after eating a small bowl of chips with a sip of Diet Coke to wash it down.
My boy Hud.
Love to all,
J.
June 28, 2005
In the air, 75 miles north of Melbourne Airport, 22,000 ft, Australia
10:00am
We made it. Just. Steph and I had one of those brief volcanic fights that stem from frustration and lack of sleep. We just make a bad driving/navigation team. Remind me never to enter the LeMans 24 hour drive through the desert with her. I can eat dessert with her, just no driving through deserts, or to airports for that matter. Luckily, Hud slept through all the vitriol and name calling. And now I am wedged into a Quantas domestic 727 airplane and I just might need a giant shoe horn to get me out.
The last day at the Daisy Cottage was as expected. Packing and going online to get some information. Then to the bank to get the cash for the Cairns house. And house it is. A four-bedroom house on the beach. Although the beaches in Cairns are supposed to be pretty cruddy. I know I know, poor baby.
The best part of yesterday was heading out to the back beach after running all the errands for one last look at the initial crag that I fell in love with the day we arrived. We left at around 3:30 and watched the amber sun sink quickly into the horizon. We took about 25 pictures of the sunset and of Hud buried up to his head in the soft sand.
It was a fitting end to a beautiful two weeks on the Mornington Peninsula. We spent too much money and we will have tighten up somewhere a long the way. But there is no chance we will be coming home before February, so all the home by Thanksgiving jokes can now slowly dissipate like turkey farts.
Sorrento and surrounding area had everything we loved about small towns, with the luxury of being 90 minutes away from a very cosmopolitan city. So all the gourmet foods and wines and amenities were available, with the quaintness of a salty seaside town still intact. It was lovely and if it was anywhere like this in Canada, with the corrsesponding15 degrees in the winter, it would be difficult not to take a long look at settling down for a spell.
I have nothing else. We were very organized in our packing at leaving. We were on the road at 5:15am and arrived at the airport just after 7:00. Hud slept in the car so he is nice and alert, where we could stand a little snoozer.
I still love Steph even though she punched me in the face. This time while fully awake.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 7:02 PM
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