The Jungle Blog

So, this one has been a long time coming, but I was trying to get some photos/videos off my phone, who was refusing to co-operate. However, thanks to the magic of Andrew Victoria, we're back in business. So, without further ado, my trip to the rainforest.

NB: For the vast majority of the time, I couldn't actually see my phone screen due to the glare of the sun, so there's a very real possibility that these pictures are awful.

So, I had to get up really early to go into the rainforest- I was picked up by the tour bus from N Joy and we sped along toward adventure. My tour guide was kinda weird- he kept acknowledging that no one really wanted to listen to him, but this didn't seem to deter him from speaking. He was also morbidly obsessed with Steve Irwin and kept touting how we would be able to see the actual spot where Irwin died (Neato!). We stopped off at a look out point where one could see some of the reef and the jungle.

We then sped along toward a wildlife sanctuary, where there were cassowaries, which can split a man in half, and ducks, which can't but had a go anyway- while I was feeding an adorable little kangaroo, a horrid bird flew up at me to try and get the food for itself, after I specifically refused it anyway for not being cute enough. Yes, I said boo to a goose and in response was viciously attacked. (This would actually be a theme of that day- being attacked by animals.)
But not before I held a koala, a python, and a motherfucking crocodile. Yeah, that's right. An actual, living crocodile. And I held it, with my unprotected human hands. How badass am I right now?
However, the croc wasn't half as problematic as the drop-bear, oh, I'm sorry, I mean 'koala'.
A koala which tried to eat me. As in, sniffed out its meal, leant back and opened its maw- at which point, the keeper stepped in and pulled him out of my grasp. The Koala was named 'grizzly' (I wonder why), so I can say I've faced being eaten by bears both drop and grizzly. I'm pretty sure I'm the most bad ass person in my social circle now. And I'm not even finished yet.
So, in the sanctuary, I saw pelicans, cassowaries and a lungfish (which is fucking horrific, btw), crossing three other animals off my Ozzie bucket list (how do I only have four months left?!). I also fed kangaroos for the second time, as well as some weird birds, and, inadvertently, one overly-eager duck. 
Then, it was on to the river and this is where things get really bad ass.
Anyone who read the last post and clicked on the link at the end will have read how crocodiles on the Daintree river have been becoming more aggressive, and that one croc actually attacked a river ferry a couple of years ago. This is the croc that I encountered on my trip along the river. We were chugging along, and I'll admit I was kinda bored, having only really seen mangroves at this point. Then I spotted two eyes popping out of the river, staring, I thought, right at me. I pointed them out and we all marvelled at this pair of eyes, which belonged to a croc named 'Scarface', as our guide informed us. After a while, the eyes submerged and we all thought that was that. I'll show you my picture versus one I found on google:

So, that's what I saw; pretty cool, but not all that threatening, right?

Found here

That was what I was actually up against. And I say 'up against' because guess what? Scarface resurfaced, and our guide informed us he was stalking the boat. 'Don't worry, though' he added, 'they hardly ever attack boats'. This was not as comforting as he thought. Had I read the article before I went, I might well have abandoned ship then and there, even though this would have simply put me even more in Scarface's domain. So, I can now say I've been stalked by a monocular bull croc named 'Scarface'. Jari, step down as the badass-king of our friendship group. We have a new monarch of badassery.

This guy.

After the river cruise, we stopped off at the point where you could see EXACTLY WHERE STEVE IRWIN DIED! ERMAGERD! After telling us how he died for the third time, TJ, our tour guide, let us off the bus and made us wait at this point for what felt like an inordinately long amount of time. I think he wanted us to fully appreciate that THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE STEVE MOTHERFUCKIN' IRWIN CEASED TO LIVE!!1!

Taste the death.

Then, we had lunch at an ice cream factory. Sadly, this is not what it sounds like- lunch was provided by the tour group and we sat and ate outside the ice cream factory. Still, I did sample some of the ice cream and it was delicious- chilli and chocolate, which I always think of as mine and Freya's flavour. There was maybe a touch too much chilli in there, so rather than cooling my pallet (Cairns is tropical, you know), it just made me reach for the water jug.
Also, while eating I walked into a spider's web. My natural reaction was to shake myself free and then to move on as though nothing had happened. This is the spider into whose web I had walked:

It's known as the Golden Orb spider and can kill people. And I shook its web whilst entangled in it. This is my life now.
Oh, also, the ice cream factory's toilets had a confusing use policy:

"Strictly" *nudge**nudge**wink**wink*. This reminds me of Rik's story about a friend who became a "Taxi driver".

After this, it was onto the rainforest, and I fulfilled another childhood wish by trekking into the jungle, even going barefoot at one point.

Sadly, this was a rather uneventful trek, even though we saw some more venomous spiders and I ate a live ant (I was told I could- it tasted of lemon). We were told to look out for cassowaries, which, as previously stated, can split one in half, but sadly none approached. Oh well, I'm still more badass than you, Dr. Fowkes and all (y)our little friends.

The next and final stop was at the beach, where I encountered this lovely sign:

I love the way the tentacles are artfully missing his lack-of-crotch.
I also want to point out that the beach looked like this:

Ok, the photo doesn't do it justice. Just understand that it was fucking beautiful- the water was pristine and inviting and full of killer jellyfish. *Sigh* Nice one, God, you got us. Also, I totally wrote 'Moi Smells' in the sand but it didn't come out in the picture- but it was definitely there, so, yeah. It's been written on both hemispheres. It's official now.

Anyway, after this we pretty much just headed back to the hostel, but I wanna share one final anecdote with y'all. On the way back, I struck up a conversation with one of my fellow tourees (I don't like how much that sounds like 'Tory', oh well), whose name was Peter. Peter was having a mid-life crisis. You could tell because he kept saying 'this is my trip around the world and then after this, it's settling down and having kids' and then laughing hysterically. Peter lived in San Francisco, but had been all over and was basically filling in the blanks on his travel check-sheet before he reproduced and his life ended. I can only hope I've done as much when my mid-life crisis comes around.
God bless you, Pete, wherever you are, and God help your children.

More photographs to be found here.

That funny reefer man

So...I went to the reef.
That's one to tick off the bucket list.
I also saw Nemo, Dory and a giant clam ('lives under the sea, lots of legs!').
That's another.
And I faced up to one of my greatest ever fears, being stung by a jellyfish.
That was...underwhelming.

Let's start at the beginning, shall we? So, the day after I posted about how glorious N Joy was, I went to the reef. I'm gonna throw in some Travel Writer-y stuff here and say I went with 'Reef Experience', who were extrememly competent and provide breakfast, lunch, sun cream and ginger tablets for the faint of stomach. I also hired an underwater camera through N Joy, and the camera worked very well, but I found the price of replacing one of the parts, which fell to the bottom of the sea bed, to be kinda extortionate.

The boat ride took a lot longer, and was a lot bumpier (though I resisted the ginger*), than I expected; I was one of the only people there on their own, and was thus encouraged to 'follow other divers like a creeper'.

Got your feet.

It made the ride there kinda dull, but they did provide a marine biology lecture, which I attended and remember exactly nothing about. Time well spent.
Finally, we arrived. I'd signed up for introductory diving, and so was given a class in how to breathe, see and avoid touching stuff. I was in group 13 for diving, and so had to wait a while before I took my turn and was informed I could go snorkelling if I so desired.
Good Lord, but snorkelling is awkward. In fact, one could say it was 'snorkward'. But one wouldn't, because one is not a clown. I'd nominally been snorkelling once in Corsica, but all I remember is freaking out because of this big red fish and instead opting to playing gorillas in the shallows. Time well spent.
For one thing, my mask didn't fit- surprise, surprise, my head was too big. I asked for a replacement from a nice American lass named Amanda, who, it transpired, was the boat's resident Marine Biologist (I had honestly forgotten it was she who gave the lecture- snorkward!). She told me I was the politest person they'd ever had aboard, which made me feel good, and then she gave me a new mask which worked a little better, but I still had to get a replacement for the actual scubaing. It turned out this final mask was 'prescription' and is meant to be saved for people with actual medical conditions.
And it still didn't fit correctly.
Anyway, back to snorkelling. I also found it extremely awkward to breathe at first, simply because the natural rhythm involves using one's nose, and this is a big no no for snorkelling. I swallowed huge amounts of sea water, and had to get out of the water several times to soothe my aching throat.
But it was fucking beautiful- in fact, one of the times I swallowed the most water was because I simply couldn't stop myself from gasping at the beauty.
Here are just a few photos:

 

 

and the entire bunch can be found here.

I'd never been open water swimming before, and I'd be lying if I said the experience wasn't slightly disconcerting. But I didn't have a heart attack, which I was a little worried about. However, I was stung by a jellyfish, which I was a LOT worried about.
Now, those who know me very, very well will know that jellyfish are possibly the creature I'm scared of the most. Had I seen the one that stung me, I may not have been able to get into the water, having turned down the opportunity to hire a wetsuit (Amanda assuring me that I wouldn't be stung- nice going, yank!). But it was a drive by stinging- it got me on the back of the leg, then floated off to injure other people. And honestly, I didn't think anything of it- I just thought it was a random sensation caused by the change in pressure. It was only when I got back to N Joy and was showering that I noticed the huge red welt on the back of my leg.
And, honestly, I'm glad it happened that way: it meant I got to see the reef and realise that maybe not all stingers are the devil's minions. Interestingly, though, the day after I went to the reef at least one company stopped going out to the reef cos there were just too many box jellyfish. So, I lucked out there.
Now, to scuba diving. My instructor was named Becky, and she was a scouser. Apart from that, I can't fault her, though, as she was extremely good at pointing out everything I might miss, and had a love of clownfish bordering on the obsessive (I found Nemo. Several times.) She had to hold my hand the entire time because I am what we in the business call a 'bad diver' (also, they'd misjudged the weights I'd need, and I floated away if I wasn't anchored down). I can spout a bunch of cliches about how the reef is like another planet (lack of oxygen, strange plant life, aforementioned floating away due to lack of gravity), and how it's like an underwater forest, but I honestly couldn't do it justice, so I'll just say wait until I post the videos (photos were tricky with Becky holding my hand).
I actually went on two dives, paying for the second aboard the boat, simply because it was too good an experience to turn down a second go. It really was incredible, and if at all possible, I'm gonna return before I leave; my only regret was that I didn't see any turtles, despite visiting a turtle breeding ground. But that's a minor complaint. Everything else was perfect.

Coming soon: Drop bears, spiders and Scarface the crocodile.

*Be Dorothy.

Njoy yourself

I currently sit in the lushest youth hostel in which I have ever stayed; and, yes, that includes Brodie’s in Edinburgh (as that one shopkeep put it ‘Brodies? Brodies is a dah-ump!’).

It has a pool, people.

And pool people.

They give you free meal cards for a local restaurant- and, on Tuesdays, free pizza! So, yes, last night I went out with a group of the hostelers to a local bar and got free pizza- I spent the night conversing with a GerMAN named Matteo, and tonight we're gonna go to the beach (apparently one can't swim there because of crocodiles. We shall see.)

I also got a free upgrade to my room because, and I quote, I was a ‘fellow Englishman’ to the guy at the counter- I was meant to be sharing with eight other people, instead I share with only one! And I don’t have to sleep on a bunk bed! Calloo, callay!

‘But, Rory!’, you cry, your voice awash with wonderment, ‘why on earth are you in a Youth Hostel?’ Why, because I’m in Cairns, of course! And what’s in Cairns?

The Motherfuckin’ Great Barrier Reef. That’s what. I glimpsed it from the plane window (also quite a pleasant flight- there was no one sitting next to me), and it was beautiful. There's also a rainforest nearby, so I'm going to that as well! Squee!

Let’s hope I didn’t use up all my good karma on the flight and the hostel, and that the actual experience ends up being good as well.

P.S. The title comes from the fact that I’m staying at the ‘N Joy Traveller’s residency’. In case y’all were wondering. 

Demonstra-babble

So, I haven't updated y'all in a while, and quite a lot has happened in that time.
No, really. Some of it would have merited blog posts of its own.

So, we had a punch party.
Everyone dressed up (Martin went for a Sound of Music feel- Lord knows why). And the punch was non-alcoholic so I definitely did not get tipsy and fall asleep in the midday sun, only to be woken by the nudging of a passing stranger's foot. There was also a bocce tournament, and I am assured that I was amazing, as I threw the ball the furthest, which is surely the point of bocce.

I also met with Charlotte for coffee, who pointed out that I overuse the word 'demonstrable', causing me to move on to the word 'emphatically'. Who knows what my buzzword will be when I kick the 'emphatically' habit- previous addictions include 'ostensibly' (brought to my attention by Chaz), 'obtuse' (Aspen) and 'appreciative' (Esmond).

I've also been to two plays with Andrew recently: Gaybies- verbatim interviews with the children of gay parents staged with panache, flair and pizazz, and with Geoffrey Rush in attendance (yeah, I was standing a foot away from Lionel Logue)- and Act A Lady, which was akin to an Almodovar film being staged as a pantomime (yes, it was that bizarre). Act A Lady really warmed my heart because it reminded me so much of the old boards I used to tread in Broseley, Wenlock and Horsehay; it was the first play I've seen in at least a year that wasn't a polished, big-budget, unsinkable whizzo affair. And that was good for me- the tech was minimal, the acting unaffected and the sets simple. I should see more theatre like that and remind myself what's possible even without money. 

In other news, I was nearly hit by a car (and I mean, really nearly- it was two inches away) whilst driving about with Victoria and Finny (who's a Doctor Who fangirl- yay!). This guy came out of nowhere and nearly smashed right into the side of the car I was sitting on. Luckily, Victoria swerved, because if she hadn't I would have been hit head on by a car because this guy was not stopping. I remember muttering 'Oh, God' and Finny screamed.
And then the guy had the nerve to beep at us. Asshole.

It was also Australia day on Saturday, and I drove with Aspen, Martin and Victoria to Aspen's hometown, (in the car on the way, ABBA's 'The name of the game' got stuck on repeat- I miss you, group 4 (except Joseph)), where her Dad was named 'Citizen of the Year', which was pretty cool. She got her picture in the paper, which was kinda cool. And there was free face painting, which was super awesome amazing.

Don't worry, it's gone now. By which I mean the beard, not the face paint.

We then went for a party at a friend of Victoria's, which was, quelle surprise!, a barbecue. It was very fun and I got to meet many colorful new characters, including a descendant of bigfoot.

The next day we went back to Victoria's, and there this happened:

 

Eat your heart out, Mary Poppins.

Cup-lettes

I really like the Rowden White,

The chairs are plush, the staff polite

It's the place to go, with time to burn

There's just one rule: don't try to learn

They let you be, they don't take names

If you watch TV or play some games

They play you films, if you've a gap

They've even got a place to nap

Need a break before your final?

They'll lend you both CDs and vinyl

Special sections for every fetish-

And Fifty Shades, if you're coquettish 

Comic books (if you're a layman),

The collected works of Neil Gaiman!

All you could want, in one little cuddy,

So come inside, but, for the love of God, please don't study

Guess which library re-opened today? Also, apropos of nothing, rhymezone.com has had a redesign and I don't like it. 

Soapbox

Yesterday, I visited the immigration museum. This in itself could merit a fine, if somewhat trite, blog post, because the museum is well put together, pleasingly designed and just plain interesting. It also had stuffed blackbirds in dickie bows:

You can't see it, but the sign pronounces that they're singing 'bye bye, blackbird', which is just the kind of inane detail I love in a museum. This was part of an exhibit about all the animals which were exported to Australia and also included artful arrangements of cockroaches:

The first one to say the guy in the reflection is a cockroach is a dead man,

 And rats:

It just needs Rik as a judge.

All of which is very charming and makes for a nice, if somewhat trite, anecdote. However, the main reason I wanted to talk about the immigration museum was because of the context in which I saw it: I had just read in The Age that Julia Gillard was going to continue to allow employers to discriminate against people because of their sexuality and that she had previously declared that she wouldn't be implementing marriage equality.
And then I came across this display:

Which is about one of Australia's first mixed marriages in Australia between a greek immigrant and an aboriginal woman. The sign talked about the difficulties they faced as a mixed-ethnicity couple but then concluded that this was no longer an issue, and that the term 'mixed marriage' isn't even used anymore because Australia's just so damn progressive when it comes to love.

Ahem.

And then there was this display: 

Which touches on Jewish immigrants, and says how they weren't really accepted until the holocaust made people realise that anti-semitism isn't cool. There were other minority groups exterminated in the concentration camps, you know.
And then the entire second floor was dedicated to diversity and how great it is. In the interest of fairness, there was one instance of the word 'queer', thrown in amongst a bunch of other slurs which we were told can cause offence.

As I said, the museum was engaging and well-designed; I just wasn't feeling it. I don't know if I'll come back to Australia in my later life, but I certainly wouldn't consider moving here until some serious progress is made vis-a-vis equality. However, if that progress is ever made, I should have no problem coming back, because the museum included a replica of the Australian citizenry test, and I passed with flying colours.

Also of note: this is the only museum to have ever made me feel sea sick.