Adventures With Patti

Before we left on this trip, Gauss asked me what I wanted to do in Australia. I didn't know what to expect, but I thought of koalas and said I had only one request: to hold a koala. Gauss conveyed my request to Rod, who called the zoo to make arrangements for a Koala Cuddle. We had an appointment with Edna, an 11-year old female named after Dame Edna Everedge, a.k.a Barry Humphries--photo below to refresh your memory. On Dame Edna's visit to the Australia Zoo, she held this very koala. Besides, no blog about Australia would be complete without her image. Like many other experiences on this trip, I wasn't prepared for my reaction to the koalas. Of course everyone thinks they're impossibly cute and cuddly, but there's something more about them...they're so vulnerable, you find yourself compelled to tread lightly and interact tenderly. The way the zoo displays the animals contributes to this perception. Visitors see primarily females and little ones

The route to today's adventure took us past The Big Pineapple (reminiscent of Brainerd, Minnesota's Paul Bunyan, Garrison's enormous walleye,  or LeSueur's Jolly Green Giant) at a pineapple plantation in nearby Nambour. Gauss and Rod posed for the requisite hero shot. Then it was back in the car for a ride to the Australia Zoo, founded by Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. The one thing I wanted to do in Australia was hold a koala, and Rod had called ahead to make arrangements for us to do just that. Once at the zoo, we found that the koala appointment wouldn't be until late in the afternoon, so we had plenty of time to see all the other exhibits. Early in the day we walked through an exhibit where the koalas napped among eucalyptus branches. It's difficult to convey how tender and appealing they are. Even curled into balls and wedged into branches, napping, the koalas are sweet, docile, and cuddly. The zoo allowed visitors to walk among th

We set out exploring on bikes borrowed from Rod and Penny. Our first order of business was to find an ATM at a small commercial area about a mile north of their place. As we paused out by the main road to consult our map, a local biker stopped to ask if we needed help. He introduced himself as Frank, and proudly announced that he was still doing triathlons at age 76. While he was speaking, I couldn't help but notice the three zip ties that projected like antennae from his helmet. "Sometimes the magpies will bomb you," Frank explained, reaching to tighten the straps on my helmet. "Yours could get knocked right off. We local bikers find that if we attach these to our helmets, the birds won't get too close." Following Frank's directions, we found a Bank of Queensland ATM at the local Cole's grocery store. It was a piece of cake compared with changing dollars at a currency exchange counter. From there we rode (on the left, good practice for me)

After a completely full—but smooth—flight on Qantas from L.A., Gauss and I arrived in Brisbane, Australia. Immigration and customs went quickly, although all U.S. passport holders were screened by contraband-sniffing dogs. I noted that unlike American K-9 units, which always seem to employ German Shepherds that could rip your leg off, the Australian drug dogs were sweet little beagles that we all wanted to cuddle. Gauss's old classmate, Rod Campbell, met us at the airport. It had been nearly 44 years since Gauss had seen him last, and it was an emotional moment. Once out in the daylight, I tried to wrap my head around the idea that the midday sun would be shining from the north, casting shadows on the south sides of trees and hills. I wondered if it would mess with my built-in sense of direction. But there have been many bush fires in the area, and the sky was hazy—I didn't really get the chance to find out. On our way back to his house, Rod wound around Brisbane and took