Buggies and Beer.
Our first day of rain. Not all honeymoons can be full of sunshine and lollipops.
So we read. Then with cabin fever, headed out. First stop, the wildlife spot, so that Nikki could make sure “the Koala’s didn’t drown”…the main zoo dude said “back again, eh?” and then looked around to confirm that Nikki hadn’t made good on her word and smuggled out Waldo the Koala.
We hired (rented) a buggy (golfcart) for the night, ($55 USD) stopped off at the local “pub takeaway” (beer carryout), picked up a six pack of Pure Gold ($17, yes that is right gents, a six pack is seventeen bones on the island of “we have your nuts in a vice, and we also know you love the suds”) and proceeded to drive “up”.
As always with fun, small vacation vehicles, Nikki was quick to get behind the wheel. And I knew from past motorized rentals that go zoom, this is where she would be staying for the evening. So, I settled into the passenger (purse holding) side, paid attention to the Captains orders of “buckle up Goose!”, and held on as Nascar Nikki lead footed it up the mountain road.
The tip of the island is called Coral Sea. At the top you can see George Harrison’s (Beatles) old house. I knew this was my kind of island, because when the weather is nice, they transport a bar up to the top for sunset get togethers. I very much enjoy portable bars and sunsets. The rain held off this particular sunset party however, so we cracked our own beers and took it all in. Nikki found a flowering plant, removes the flower, and puts it in her hair. She looks lovely as always and the views of the island cannot compete with my beautiful wife.
Across one tree hill, past the mass planted palm trees, and thru the rich neighborhoods with granite driveways for their supped up buggies. Three story homes with their own pools carved into the mountainside. This place is gorgeous, and like a supermodel, it knows.
So let’s now go to the other side of the island, shall we? Towards the airport, the golf buggy repair shop, and then up into the staffs living quarters. Whoa. Wait a minute. Is there a seedy side to this island oasis? Some of the staffs living quarters were 4 feet wide and 10 feet long little rooms with a front door and back door attached to a communal deck, and to take it all in…it was across from the trash dump. Allright. Now we know… Not all can be perfect on the island of smoke and mirrors. We were getting some hard stares, like “get the hell out of here you rainsoaked twats” so we moved on.
Back up to the guest shorelines, where it was getting darker. And then THEY came. Bats. Big ones. Not twenty, not hundreds, THOUSANDS…OF BATS! With ears that you could see flopping in the wind, huge wing spans with thick capes. Easily 8x the size of non-steroid Buckeye Bats back home. And when they landed in the trees, they were upside down and representin’…suck on that Twilight Vamp Lovers. They were flying in mass packs towards the top of the island, and we were in hot buggy pursuit. My camera caught some of the bats against the dusk sky.
Later, we were talking to a local and his family. He proceeded to learn me on the bats. They are actually called flying foxes. They fly in every evening from the mainland. They are considered very, very dirty with many diseases that can pass on to humans. Good to know now that I just chased them all over the mountain with my mouth wide open toward the sky screaming “lookie at all dem black Edward Cullens woman!” (I like to talk hillbilly when consuming can beer and traveling at a high rate of speed, it is my own little Dukes of Hazard). My wifey is very accommodating in this fascination and with my beer spilling out the side of the buggy we gave bat chase until it was too dark and ended up at Popeye’s for some treats to carry the buggy evening on. (some things about a man you just can’t change, and that is Island Popeye Fever)
The beer had run its course. So how about a nice bottle of white Aussie wine, Nikki? Off we go again, with a White Oaks Sauvignon Blanc from Western Australia to the corner of Catseye Bay, where we saw the one and only area of development on this island. Four lots available people. Only $1 million dollars each, land only. Get your arm and leg ready, cuz we are cashing in with all of your fine C-bus folks, in what will be called the first and only walmart tent columbine on a million dollar lot with 30 midwestern blokes living in them.
Nikki then felt nature calling, popped a squat next to the buggy, I took a pic, she demanded the camera, I relinquished said camera, she deleted pictures then drove off, I was then stuck in the million dollar abandoned field in the pitch dark…just waiting for the bats to come and find an artery.
Quotes of the Day:
As the rain fell all day and the dark clouds took over the island, I stopped at the local pub to get a bag of ice for our buggy beer. I commented on the rainy weather like any cheeseball tourist. And the bartender said with a grin “you know, according to the official website of Hamilton Island, it is high 80’s and completely sunny”.
-what an easy job, marketing department for Hamilton Island, sunny and warm folks, let the tourists come in droves to the monsoon
-Once again, Happy New Year everyone, GO BUCKS… I am glad you are reading! (kind of surprised some of my mates can read)