Planes Trains and Automobiles (and Gondolas)

Well that was some kinda week.

A trip to the tropics (Cairns) meant the boy had firsts galore.

First plane ride(s), first bus trip, first gondola traverse, first evening restaurant meal (twice), first river swim (yes, we checked – no crocs... though last time AB heard that was at some waterfall in Litchfield National Park (NT), which about a year afterwards was quietly closed for swimming due to... crocs) and first full week wearing shorts and no shoes; a summer habit we hope will stay with him a while.

During the daylight hours Mistress P was attending a big-wig conference, so Mike and dad went all Leyland Bros, racking up some 580km of tootling in the Hyundai Tucson "City" rent-a-car (AB's verdict– engine couldn’t pull the skin off a custard and you risked rollover if you accidentally sneezed sideways: avoid).

Hence despite the risk of automotive demise, Mike got to visit beaches, cane fields, mountains, rivers and even an aboriginal community (Yarrabah), which we must say did a pretty fine imitation of paradise; palm trees, secluded bay, laid back people and little tinnies all lined up for fishin’ trips...

Yarrabah would also apear the prime candidate for Australia's current baby boom (and we thought it was all from postcode 3188). There were little kiddies running about gleefully everywhere, though thankfully not too many on the road - that was the domain for the equally numerous (but far more car ignorant) dog pups.

The other highlight was the family trip to “The Boulders”, just-down-the-road-a-bit from Babinda, a.k.a “the umbrella town”, owing to the fact it vies for the wettest town in Australia with Tully, and sits just near Mt Bellenden Kerr, which does receive more (measured) rainfall than anywhere in Oz (but is not a town).

The Boulders is a swimming hole on the Babinda Creek, slap bang in the middle of some speccy wet tropical rainforest. The whole area, including the nearby Devils Hole, is simply, purely, spectacular. It was at the Boulders that the boy had his first river swim - actually his first swim of any sort. We couldn't work out if the look of angst was from the cool or the crocs, but we assured him that both were (theoretically) absent. Or maybe it was just cos he realised that virtually every swim he has for the rest of his life wont be in such a beautiful spot.

The other big but touristy day trip was the Skyrail gondola up and onto the tablelands, a subsequent wander through the rainforest at Kuranda, and the scenic railway back down to Cairns. Master M loved the Skyrail. He slept through the walk in the rainforest (Mum and dad kept watched for the natures-own razor wire vine; “it’ll rip yer eyes out” - thanks for the tip aboriginal guide-guy). But he took a bit of a dislike to the train ride down the mountain.

Well, maybe not so much the train ride, just the woman making the commentary over the loudspeaker, who appeared to have something of a nasal passage problem... which wasnt helped by said voice being overly amplified so you could hear it above the squeal of the train.

“We’re approaching tunnel number 15. There are 15 tunnels on the way down to...”

“BWAAAAAWAAAWAAAAAA” startled Mike.

Woman stopped talking, Mike calmed. Till 5 minutes later.

“This section of track had to be realigned as it was so steep it collapsed several times while the men were...

"BWAAAAWAAAAWAAAAAA”

This went on for several iterations till mum decided a feed was in order and then, as with many a good man, a boob shoved in his mouth shut him up for the duration.

Of course all these fun times were interspersed with 2-3 hourly dashes to the conference venue's family room for Mistress P to give him a feed between sessions. And it wasn’t just Mike's mum doing it... there in the family room were P&P, and their little baby Soraya.

Mistress P had known P&P for some time, and Soraya had come on the scene only a week or so after Master M. Hence there were the inevitable comparisons (one fed quicker, one screamed a little less, one had bigger hands, one slept more at night,...) but a clear sense of family room camaraderie. Mums were there to work and dads were there to... well... help them work. A nice little form reversal, with benefits on all sides; Dads did some great progeny bonding, and mums recharged the boffin batteries and hence will surely revolutionsise science as we know it.

Once the conference was over and everyone had arrived safely home, the first hometown nappy change revealed that the lad was taking up far more changetable realestate than previously, with his legs forced to dangle off the end. Hence it would appear he's put on a bit of a growth spurt, which may also explain why he's so hungry and no longer sleeping right through the night (oh well, 9pm to 7am was good while it lasted... we were warned).

AB's theory is two fold: all the sunshine, warmth, humidity and generally lush nature of the tropics had fertilised the boy to grow, while the low pressures in the aeroplane had also contributed by sucking him outwards.

All in all... by the end of the trip we reckon he's bigger, smilier, and (ok, we're biased) even cuter.

So many new things, many new people, many new sights and many new sounds. And that was just for mum and dad. But then, isn't that just the everyday life of a 3.5 month old?

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