Port Douglas

We're nearing the end of our Australian idyll, and are now in swanky Port Douglas enjoying some classic southern hemisphere contrasts, along with a mixture of rain and sunshine.

To those of us raised in mild, predictable Northern Europe, this can be a bit of a shock...

We've enjoyed blistering sunshine followed by pelting rain, and back again - all within a period of around 10 minutes. A taxi-driver this evening told us that on one day in February this year they had 11 inches of rain. ELEVEN INCHES! This should give some idea of how northern Queensland can be a land of some extremes. It's hot and damp, but dry. It's sophisticated, but not. It's 5 star, but it isn't. We landed in a downpour, but all the rivers seem to be drying out. Apparantly they've not had rain for 2 months - before our arrival, obviously - but I've seldom seen a greener landscape, more verdant hillsides, or lusher forests. On a crocodile-sighting trip up the river this afternoon, which had Boy #1 giggling with delight whilst viewing a 4 1/2 metre example sunning himself itself on a river bank, the tour guide announced that they did have sharks in the Daintree river - but only little ones. Bull sharks. The ones that measure around 1.5 metres.

A 1.5 metre shark is a little one? I'll not be donning a cossie right now, thanks very much - and that's leaving aside the jellyfish lacing the water with their tentacles of death, meaning all but a swimming pool is off limits for a cooling dip. These jellyfish are known locally, and misguidingly, as 'stingers'. To those of us raised in cooler climates to whom 'stingers' suggests something akin to nettles that can lead to a nasty rash, be warned. These things can literally kill you. Whilst looking very pretty in a north Australia styley, of course.

So, in short, North Queensland. Look, admire, but don't touch...


And here's something of a conundrum for you. You're travelling through an airport, let's say, in Brisbane, Australia. You have the following in your hand-luggage; A bottle of milk (for your 2 year old, to help combat any pain in his ears whilst coming down from altitude when your plane lands). A set of nail-clippers with a potentially 'lethal '2 inch file attached. A 500ml bottle of water - or is it? A tube of mascara. A toy plastic snake.

Which of the above do you reckon will be confiscated by the numpties on the x-ray machine at airport security?

I'll give you a clue.

It's the one that results in your 4 year old bursting into inconsolable fits of tears as you have to tell him that the toy he was bought at Australia Zoo was deemed too dangerous (by the numpties) to take on board an airplane in case it frightens the other passengers.

What is this world coming to?


Note: For the tender hearted amongst you, the snake is long-gone in Boy #1's memory. It has been replaced as the object of his affections by a cuddly shark which he has been waving around at every opportunity, most noticeably in the restaurants where we've had dinner the last couple of nights. As a flirting accessory with women on average 24 years older than him it's been an unmitigated success. With the exception of course of the waitress who he ambushed with a cuddly shark nip as she walked past, who responded:

"Don't be riduculous, it's just a stuffed toy!"


I wonder if that's the first time she's said that?