Yesterday was a picture-perfect Australian day. Mark and I went bushwalking (read: hiking) up Mount Coot-tha, a mound slightly larger than a hill, but certainly not a mountain, in one of the suburbs of Brisbane. Because the path was well-traveled and wide, I decided to face my fears of Death by Creepy-Crawly and plunge forth into the Australian bush.
Winter here is also the dry season, so the river and water falls along the trail had been reduced to a few wading pools and a trickle, but the scenery was pretty, and, luckily, the wildlife sightings were confined to a harmless bushturkey. The view at the top was the perfect way to orient myself and my to-do list. From the summit I could see (real) mountains to climb, buildings to explore, and the world's largest sand dune, for tobogganing down (yes, sand tobogganing really does exist here).
In the course of the afternoon (Mt. Coot-tha, driving around, and a walk around a near-by lake), I managed to see a cockatoo searching for his lunch in the park, a lizard sunning by the lake, two parrots, a pelican, and a flying fox (albeit, a dead one). Zoos here must show boring things like squirrels (which don't live here) to stay in business, because a walk through town in Brisbane is just as exciting as a trip to Franklin Park.
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