Cairns

Something has felt a little off this trip and until now I haven’t quite been able to put my finger on it. Over the past 10 years or so, I’ve settled into a bit of routine of getting up early, catching up on work, doing a bit of writing, and then trying to pry my trusty traveling companion out of bed in time to grab the egg remnants and dried out pancakes from the buffet table before the kitchen staff wheels. In a sign that hell may indeed be freezing over, that routine has been turned on it’s head, and hardly a day goes by that we aren’t out the door at a reasonable hour. Today is no exception, even though we have no place to be or tour to catch.

Our plan is simply hang out at the public salt water lagoon a few blocks from our hotel. It’s clearly the place to be, and I’m particularly thankful that my six-pack is in such perfect condition to parade in front of the masses.

It’s a tough life, and eventually we need to refuel with a McSpider (a coke slushy with soft serve ice cream from the local McDonalds) and fruit filled waffle. The plan goes horribly wrong when, standing empty-handed and teary-eyed on the sidewalk, we realize the waffle stand is part of the night market and closed up tight until dinner.

Bent, but not broken, we decide to try our hand at the all you can stack chinese food place. Here, for a fixed price you get a plate and can pile on whatever you like. It turns out Joey is quite an accomplished stacker for one so young.

Nursing a bit of an industrial food coma, we decide to head back to the hotel for a few hours to catch up on emails and homework. Things pick up again once the temperature starts to cool off and we have bit of shopping to do. Joey wants to buy something for his teacher and I try to tell him to hang onto it until he sees what kinds of grades she has given him, but he’s having none of that plan. After seeing one up in Kulandra, I think he also has a stylish kangaroo scrotum bottle opener on his list, but scrotums aren’t cheap, so he may just have to wait until Christmas.

We’ve also started to hone in on some art, as bringing one thing back from each place we visit has become a bit of a tradition for us. Much to Joey’s chagrin, that means far more time that he is cut out for sitting in a gallery waiting for Mom to look at every single piece. He doesn’t realize just how lucky he is that she’s not looking for carpets.