We stopped to walk out to a pretty little Cathedral. As we walked, a very huge, very black, lizard crossed our path. Not being quick enough to get a good picture, we figured, well, that's OK, we will see lots more of them. We never saw another.
We stopped for the night at Port McQuarie. Telling a lady we had not seen a kangaroo yet, she sent us to a golf course. At least 75 were hopping about and grazing!
Driving on up the coast the next day, we passed a fancy club with dozens of old men, dressed to the teeth with broad white hats on, rolling balls around on a lawn. Well, we had never seen anything like this. Barb said, “Park, and I'll go see what's going on.” I stayed in the car. Well, she almost caused a riot! They all stopped what they were doing, and quickly gathered around her, all wanting to explain the game to her, many wanting to hold her hand to make sure she rolled the ball correctly. They apparently were not accustomed to having a bold foreign lady, and pretty too, interrupt their play. She quickly learned a lot about Lawn Bowling, and a few things about old men.
We visited a Koala hospital - - Barb has a thing about Koalas, and could never pass one without stopping.
We stopped at a Rain Forest, then ate at Hungry Jack's-- their version of Burger King.
Going on up, we were attracted to the sight of dozens of hang glider's filling the coastal air. When we investigated, we found many were taking tourists up for a ride. They leaped off a cliff, with a tourist hanging below in a bag, soared over the ocean for ten minutes or so, then they soared around and landed back exactly where they took off from. We noticed all the tourists going up were young Japanese, no one else. I asked about this. An Aussie told me, “Well, the Japanese traditionally let their young people go wild for a year after they complete their education. They try to pack a lifetime of adrenalin rushes into that year, Then return home to work out their life in an 8x10 cubicle.” I don't know this to be factual, but I did notice, throughout the trip, that the bravest of the risk takers were always young Japanese.
We moved on up to Brisbane, stopping at the Airport Motel outside of town. We had noticed that most all large airports had at least one reasonably priced motel near by. The next day, we parked the car on the outskirts of town, and took the Jet Cat in. I was not anxious to repeat my Sydney driving experience.
I called Tim Hoyle, a former student of mine and a friend of our son Corey's, and arranged to meet him later that day. Many years ago, his family lived in Arkadelphia. They reduced everything they owned to a pickup full of bags, and moved to Australia. He had called us a number of times later, usually in the middle of the night. A girl answered at first, then quickly got another girl on too, and they just kept me talking as long as possible. I began to realize, they just loved to hear my American/hillbilly accent, so I poured it on. I began to realize that my accent was a true chick magnet in Australia, but I already had a chick.
A major calamity struck us, especially Barbara, that day in mid city. When she took her new, digital camera into a photo shop to get some pictures printed, the girl in charge forced the card back in, and bent something. It was dead, never to live again. We searched for a place to repair it, but to no avail. Barbara could not tell any of the camera repairmen our problem easily. “We are in the first week of our trip of a lifetime and-” the tears began to flow. We got loads of sympathy, but no help, so we finally bought a film camera. Our budget did not include another digital camera. They were still pricey in those days.
After seeing Brisbane, and meeting Tim for a visit, we retraced our steps back to our still-pretty (but for how long?) car. We moved on up to the north side of Brisbane, and called Father Anthony and Philomena. They soon came to guide us to their home.
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