You Knew This Was Coming

Because my life does not follow a linear flow of time, lets go back to Australia Zoo.

Turns out I didn’t have lab on one particular Friday. This was an opportunity I was waiting for to take a day trip, since it would be a long weekend for me but a normal working day for everyone else. So I called one of my travel friends, Martha, assuming she would have no classes too.

This was obviously a false assumption, but I pressured her into skipping her coral reefs class and coming with me, so it was sort of like we both had no class.

The 12-zone ticket cost me 16 dollars. Martha was giving me the strangest look, before only paying $8. Forgot I needed to flash my ID to get the student discount. However, I just brushed it off. 8 dollars is no big deal, right?

I resented it the rest of the day.

In the train station at 6am, we’re basically alone. Just us, and a short man of indeterminate age, faded skullcap, grotty unkept moustache, and sunglasses despite our being underground. The man struck up an unprovoked and likely undesired conversation with us on how much he had to drink last night. Explains the sunglasses.

Seems he’s going our way. We get on, and get to the next stop, before being swamped by an insane amount of people. The train goes from empty to packed in 30 seconds. Rush hour.

Despite the sudden company, the little man continues his life story. His mother used to buy him cigarettes. He fled Perth because he pissed of an asian street gang whose members wield katanas. The diarrhea he cleans as a janitor is always worse in the women’s bathroom. His girlfriend is a jealous cunt. The packed train does not seem to hamper his communication style. Martha sits away from us and pretends we don’t exist. I egg him on for my own amusement. It’s like watching a train wreck, ya know? The irony wasn’t lost on me at the time.

The little man gets off at Geebung. We take the train up to Caboolture, then hop on the Nambor bus and get off at Beerwah.

Seriously, who the fuck comes up with these names?

We finally arrive, and look for the entrance. On the way, we pass a woman walking her dog. Except, it’s actually a wombat. We haven’t even paid our ticket, and we’ve already pet a wombat. Good start.

The venomous snakes were our first target. Its helpful if I have a vague idea what I’m grabbing by the tail. But it was only a warm-up to the main course: The Crocodiles. Here on display are the crocs Steve is famous for. Aggro of course was on the top of my wish list, but he was sunk on the bottom of his lake. Graham’s enclosure was nowhere to be found. Things were starting to look disappointing.

We pass by Acco’s enclosure. This was Steve’s first big croc, and it happened to be his biggest ever. However, the crocodile I saw in there was surprisingly disappointing. We continue walking, only to notice there’s a tail next to what we thought was Acco. Two things become immediately apparent to us: The croc we saw first was a female, and this tail is longer and fatter than the entire female. Acco comes into view.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT! That’s about the only way I can put it into words. The monster is almost 20 feet long. It weighs over a ton. It’s believed to be around 70 years old, and could probably swallow me whole. Its tail could break me in half, and a headbutt could pulverize my bones. Trust me, I’ve gotten my hands on big croc skulls in lab. I stared, awestruck, for maybe 10 minutes. I would come back to Acco 3 times before the end of the day.

Meanwhile, Martha was entranced by the Galapagos Tortoise feeding. Boring.

Water Dragons parade around the zoo like it’s their home. They swim in all the croc ponds, and rest by their heads. You’d think “easy snack”, but there they are. However, some stupid little kids sauntered up to a dragon entering a fence and grabbed it by the tail. The poor thing flailed like it was on fire.

I huffed over, and told them to drop it. They actually looked somewhat scared. They dutifully obeyed, and scampered off. Suddenly, a terrible realization dawned on me: Those kids must consider me some kind of authority figure. Some kind of adult. Sonofabitch!

As fun as it would’ve been to feed an elephant by hand, the line was ridiculous, so we moved on to possibly the coolest part: The Crocoseum Show. We knew there’d be croc feeding, but we didn’t realize the coolest part would actually come earlier.

After some childish immaturity involving gorilla suits and audience plants that Martha really got into, they busted out some birds to show off. Pretty neat in its own right. We didn’t expect they’d let them fly.

Two dozen or so birds, including parrots, lorikeets, cockatoos, ducks, pigeons, hawks, and storks all took flight, whirling around the stadium and inches above our heads at dizzying speed. Again, there’s no words for it. I just know it was a sight I’m not going to forget.

Oh, right, the croc feeding. I wanted Graham, but we got Norman, a newbie known for being pretty destructive to his home enclosure. Fast strikes, big jumps, nasty jaws, and Little Richard from the tv show actually is that cute in person.

Outside the Crocoseum, a girl was walking baby goats on a leash. This seems to be a trend. Little kids were petting them. Needing to make up for my previous child encounter, I sauntered up to the lot.

“Hey, those must be the leftovers from the croc feeding show.”

The look the poor children gave me was a cross between horror and deep sadness. I had redeemed myself.

After walking around the zoo for a few hours, you learn to identify koalas from a distance by their smell. It’s rather distinctive. As per the trend, I pet one.

Finally, we arrived at Roo Heaven. Here’s the place where you get to feed and pet young kangaroos. Martha preferred the wallabies. We each took our photos with one, but it seemed unsatisfying. Everyone has a koala or a kangaroo photo. I needed something different. So with my nice clean shirt, I laid down in a pile of dirt and feces among a few resting kangaroos, knowing a bite wasn’t that implausible. As a result, I now have my favorite picture ever.

It was almost surpassed by posing with the giant wooden crocodile. Martha rode on top of it, clearly enjoying her regression here in Beerwah. I opted for oral. Wedging myself back into its mouth was way less comfortable than you might imagine. Those teeth were sharp and the gap was small. But I ended up with my second favorite photo and a nice bruise on my stomach for a souvenir.

After chilling with some rather ass-backwards birds, including the scariest emu and cassowary I’ve ever seen (I’d gladly tango with a venomous snake first), it was time to go. But not before paying our respects to the Steve Irwin Memorial. Mind you, the entire zoo is one creepy Irwin shrine, but here is where all the fan-sent memorabilia was collected.

Maybe I’m biased. Maybe I’m overly sentimental. But seeing the outpouring of love from all over the world really did kinda touch a nerve. I assume this was the intended outcome, as I promptly went and spent money at the gift shop.

The way home, I slept like a baby. Or would have, if I wasn’t way too big to curl up in these seats. God help fat people.

It wont be long now until we go back, this time with my messiah Craig Franklin. However, nothing really beats the intimacy of exploring freely. Australia Zoo is my Disneyland. It is my magic kingdom.


Oh, right, photos:
Aussie Zoo Facebook Photos