A Merry Christmas

[26/12/06]

Christmas celebrations start early for us this year as we go off to South Bank two nights in a row. Strolling about on the waterfront at dusk, we get to listen to christmas carols sung live by a choir, watch brilliant fireworks over the river and giggle at couples learning how to swing dance. Merriness is in the air as throngs of people crowd the place, bright lights burning, cool darkness settling down, smells of food wafting up, a buzz of enjoyment all over. In the open market, a gypsy reads cards, her stand never empty, as other merchants let passersbys curiously eye their wares. Sipping a fruit crush, hanging out on the beach, we finally decide to change and go for a swim. Christmas is summer in Brisbane, the pool is waiting for us, most people out of the water by now. A refreshing dive, a playful tease as I lift up the girlfriend into my arms. She screams of horror and delight, I laugh and do it again, foolish as only a girl in love can be.

We dine on a late pizza at Amici's and go back home to hit the sack. On Christmas Eve, last-minute shopping to find our kind hosts some presents. Afterwards, some getting lazy on Eagle Street Pier, with hot mocha and glass of wine, beer and iced strawberry - there's no point to the holidays but that of getting fat, as everybody well knows. Stomachs satiated and minds relaxed, we walk to Queen St Mall to check out the lights on the biggest of all Christmas trees, surrounded by ice blue reindeers. Later, home, the barbecue's fired up and the TV ritually plays ET. Tomorrow's the big day.

After a good night's sleep, we kick off Christmas Day with a big breakfast - pancakes, muffins, croissants, all you could ask for is right there on the table, and definitely sets the day's standards. After the traditional exchange of gifts, we soon leave for Raby Bay, on the coast, to have lunch at Deborah's sister. The house is right on the canal, including a view of the sea, Moreton and Stradbroke islands clearly visible in the distance. The meal's as fulfilling as breakfast was, and soon enough we find ourselves dumped in a car again for a 2-hour drive to Toowoomba. On the way, we stop next to a pasture full of emus - the bravest one twists his neck through the fence, wildly pecking at my camera, leaving me to bring back home a blurry shot of the inside of his mouth.

The place we go to, Adora Downs, is a huge farm sprawled out in the fields about 30 km from Toowoomba. But far from doing their business with crops and cattle, the owners of Adora Downs make a living out of tourism, buses packed with holiday-makers pouring in the multiple huts, caravans and lodges spotting the place. Don't misunderstand, though - nothing ugly or cramped here, but a true ingenuity of design to all of the miscellaneous accommodations, including a home-made movie theater: a TV screen installed in an old bus! We put down our bag in one of the caravans, sneering at how comfortable it is compared to our old dairy at Bob's, and go join Keith and Nicole for an evening of drinking, bushdancing and, of course, still more eating.

On the morrow, we make friends with the few pet kangaroos around, stroking and hugging them freely. Farther away, enclosed in a fence, is a very australian strange array of kangaroos, llamas and a fawn. It's our first time seeing a red kangaroo (the taller, stronger sort, as opposed to the usual smaller grey kangaroos). Crouched beneath a ping-pong table to take shelter from the drizziling rain, he looks at us, human-like muscles rippling on his arms and shoulders. Big fella, able to disembowel you in one hit of his claws if he so desires.

We sleep through most of the way back home. On this rainy day, there's nothing quite like heading off to a hot shower, embracing warm droplets of water as you let the heat soak through to your air-conditioned frozen bones...