Another highly deadly animal in Australia is the Blue Ring octopus. Children are mainly the victims of the Blue Ring octopus because the octopus only lives in tide pools so a kid is usually playing there, and blam, gone without the antivenom in 15 minutes. Australia has the widest range of deadly animals than any other country in the world. From Great Whites in Perth to mainly any marine life on the Great Barrier Reef. So if you are coming to the reef don’t touch anything unless it’s OK. You should tell someone even if you get coral cuts or scrapes of any kind.
Our first priority after landing in Sydney, then, was finding a kangaroo. We were not yet desperate, but still, we didn’t want to leave Australia without a sighting. We had missed them in The Northern Territories where there should have been scads. Restaurants in Darwin sold kangaroo fillets and roasts. Bags hung in store windows made of their skins. They are a problem for ranchers. They are labelled as pests and vermin, and eradication (poisoning) campaigns are underway. We had seen their leaping images plastered all over on postcards and posters, the covers of books, tails of Qantas airplanes, and on refrigerator magnets and stickers. This is the National Animal here, more or less–isn’t it? But we saw none.
In Queensland we decided they were a tourist come-on. Now in New South Wales, with only two days to go before we were leaving for New Zealand, where the kangaroos never got, we were getting desperate. Why was this so hard? Once in Sydney, we started our search in earnest. We went downtown. This was not a place where you would normally expect to find a kangaroo, but we were willing to try. This city astonishes us. The air sparkles, the people are relaxed, the harbor with its famous Opera House and bridge is every bit as beautiful as Cape Town and San Francisco. It’s New York without the filth, the noise or rude, anxious people. We gawked at the goods in the store windows after traveling nearly six months in countries without cities of Sydney’s sophistication, size and modernity. At Grace Bros. department store we bought warm clothes. Charlie got R.M. Williams boots. We’d just come from the Great Barrier Reef in the Coral Sea, and for the first time in nearly six months, we took off our Tevas, shorts and T-shirts.
But we saw no kangaroos downtown, and that was no surprise. A zoo was our final hope. So, with the guidance of friends, the Pyper family, who live in Sydney, we entered through the gates of the Sydney Koala Sanctuary Park. In the shade of a copse of towering gum trees we were waylaid by a passel of these creatures, whose name means “drinks no water” in Aborigine. They are so darned cute they could almost be stuffed. We lined up to cuddle one plump chap that looked awfully sleepy and distractedly chewed on eucalyptus leaves.
A dingo rounded a corner of the Park. Dingoes have earned reputations as human killers and a Dingo Fence that stretches across Queensland can be seen from outer space. But this yellow dingo-her name is Milly–jumped and wagged her tail and otherwise exhibited behavior that reminded us of our dog Zeke back home. Milly lives near a garden where a number of wallabies were lounging on the grass in the afternoon sun. Wallabies are small kangaroos but definitely not kangaroos. And walking past what looked like a discarded wooden barrel another unique Australian animal that resembles a furry fireplug surprised us. It was a Wombat! What could possibly be more fun than a Wombat. Even saying its name is fun. Charlie and I asked, how did Australia get such a menagerie of truly weird creatures?
We exited through the Park’s turnstile. We’d gotten our money’s worth, that’s for sure, but definitely no kangaroos. In the souvenir shop, Molly bought a stuffed wombat and Fraser, a similar koala named Sydney, and I got one of those dopey Australian Outback hats rigged with bottle corks that hang from the brim by strings to keep the flies off your face. We were about to leave for the parking lot when the lady behind the cash register turned around to fill small paper bags with what looked like sugar coated Cheerios.
“Do people eat those?” I asked, counting my change.
“People? No, Mate. These are for the kangaroos.”
She told us about a gate we’d missed. We only had to open it and go in, and there, she guaranteed us, we’d find hundreds of ’em.
And sure enough, with our paper bags brimming with breakfast cereal, and Fraser and Molly snacking from theirs, we closed the gate behind us, closing us in with a herd of the kangaroos lying in the sun. A joey that looked too old and way too heavy for his poor mother’s pouch poked out its head at the first scent of cereal. The others hopped around. These are really wonderful creatures–smaller than I’d imagined, and nicer, with beautiful thin faces, contented, happy personalities, and great tails! With sighs of relief Charlie and I watched Molly and Fraser gambol with the kangaroos. Now, finally, we can leave. We’ve done Australia!
