Fisho's Frolics

[redandblack]

Thanks Fisho, enjoying it immensely

[Media Park]

Like your novel excerpts, I am hanging out for the next installment!

[the wonder elephant]

whats going on fisho writers block ??

[fisho mcspaz]

whats going on fisho writers block ??

hehe nah, conjunctivitis. I'll be posting the rest as soon as I'm feeling better.

[fisho mcspaz]

Fisho's Queensland Adventure - Part Three

Some places I love the minute I set foot in them. To explain this in a single sentence, I'd say 'There's just something that clicks.' To elaborate... I'd never visited Yungaburra before. It was nothing like Atherton; there were no familiar-looking buildings or landmarks, and as for the scenery, we might have been in Vietnam, it was so foreign to my eyes. A small village, nestled in the hills beside Lake Tinaroo, it somehow reminded me of a brightly-plumed tropical bird, with weatherboard buildings in every colour and shape. The houses almost seemed to have sprung up from their own gardens, instead of being built by prosaic human hands. Orchids lined the footpaths and the playground on the corner was carpeted in purple jacaranda flowers. The place was just full of magic - and that, I reckon, is why I felt such an affinity with it. I am an avid seeker of all things magical. Yungaburra would be my port of call only for two days, but it would be home. I hope that this makes sense to some of you.

I soon found the On the Wallaby Backpackers' Lodge, where I'd arranged to stay, but I drove past it and took the turn-off to the south shores of Lake Tinaroo. I was only there for a couple of minutes; I was knackered and besides, there was a family barbecue taking place nearby so I felt like a bit of a gatecrasher. I did get some photos of the lake and the surrounding foothills in the hour where the sun blanches into twilight, which was all I'd wanted to do anyway.

On the Wallaby looked remarkably attractive for a backpackers' lodge; it was pale green weatherboard with maroon trim and a tropical jungle going nuts around the verandah. It was just as nice on the inside: log walls, plenty of light, a shelf full of well-loved books and a couple of squashy couches. Two foreign girls on the couches oohed and aahed over Luke while I waited for someone to come to the front desk. That someone was Damian, an upbeat sort of bloke in a green shirt who told me that I'd be staying in the Possum room - all the rooms had a different animal painting on the door - and that it was one of the nicest. I thought that I'd done pretty bloody well for fifty-five bucks a night and fairly bounced up the stairway to my room. Damian let me in and left me to appreciate my surrounds.

My first thought was, Oh, s***.

The Possum room had a double bed, a nightstand, a harsh white fluoro light overhead and a mosquito net. Nothing else. There was no powerpoint - how was I going to charge my phone so that Mr McSpaz and Angus could call me? When I go to sleep at night, I like to read by lamplight for half an hour or so first, and I didn't care for doing it under that fluoro. The mosquito net was obviously there for a reason - how was I going to be able to sleep? One mosquito can keep me awaker than an entire roadworks crew working outside my window.

This is an adventure, I told myself bracingly. I shall just have to harden the f*** up. But when I went to lock the door and realised that the bolt wouldn't slide into the whatsit, I decided to take action. Gathering up Luke, I marched downstairs and informed Damian that the lock on my door did not work. 'None of them work,' he replied cheerfully. I resisted asking the obvious question - 'So why do you have them on all the doors, then?' and simply looked at him. 'Does it concern you?' he asked. I said that yes, it did concern me, I had a six-month-old baby to consider. 'Well, we've never had a problem before,' Damian said, 'but I'll see if I can find a latch or something to nail on there for you.' In the end, though, he installed me in the front downstairs room, which was the only one that had a lock (and a powerpoint and reading lamp - hallelujah!). The room belonged to another bloke but Damian said he would move him upstairs. 'He only needs that room for the powerpoint, a lock's not important to him' - I could almost see the italics in that last bit - 'but I can run an extension cord up to his room.' Jolly good. In the meantime, I'd be able to charge my phone.

I'd messaged Threasa, my friend whose wedding it was, earlier and she'd invited me to dinner at Nick's Swiss Italian Restaurant. I got changed into something a bit nicer, changed Luke's nappy, ran a brush through my hair and stepped out of my room into bloody Schutzenfest. Where there had been two girls earlier, there were now about thirty blokes, all with some sort of alcoholic beverage in hand. Prepared to be friendly, I smiled at the nearest ones but they just looked me up and down in a dour sort of way. Their accents were South African so dour was probably their natural state of being, but that didn't stop me from being intimidated. I couldn't help wondering how they were going to act after three or four hours of being on the piss, and I began to think that coming to a backpackers' lodge on my own, with a baby, had been a dreadful error of judgment on my part.

But the night outside was fragrant and warm, with cicadas ringing in the trees. I like the noise cicadas make; they're particularly loud in the summer at Halls Gap, which is another place I love with all my heart. I pushed Luke's pram slowly down the main street, taking in all the scents of the different flowers. Nick's was at the opposite end of town, so I was able to have a good look at all the places on the way and find my bearings.

If you're ever in the Atherton Tablelands region, I strongly recommend that you partake of a meal at Nick's. It is one of the best restaurants I've ever been to; not just because of the food, but the whole experience. My first impression was of a great, lighted room with solid timber walls and rustic decor. There was an extensive collection of musical instruments hanging around the room - including a trombone - and a rather large number of bells. Nick, who owns the restaurant with his wife Gina, collects bells from all around the world. The restaurant was full of people, talking and laughing. Everyone seemed to be having a terrific time.

I didn't know anyone at the table except for Threasa and Cristian, her husband-to-be, but I was soon introduced to several of their friends. Everyone was lovely to me and of course little Luke was a big hit, grinning and chattering as he does. I was starting to feel fatigued from all the vomiting and aeroplaning and carrying of heavy overstuffed baggage, so I probably wasn't the most scintillating of dinner companions, but I was enjoying myself nonetheless and happy to listen to the others talking. Then they asked me where I was staying and I voiced my fears about returning to the backpackers' lodge in the middle of a drunken shindig with hordes of grim-faced Afrikaners. 'You should ask at the pub for a room instead, it's lovely!' I'd noticed the pub - the Lake Eacham Hotel, to be exact - when I first arrived in Yungaburra. Well, you could hardly miss it, the thing was huge. Gargantuan. Think of an Adelaide pub and multiply it by three and stick them all together - and then you might have some idea of its size. It was a mammoth among mere yaks, or whatever similar-sized hairy beasts were around when mammoths walked the earth.

We were in the middle of dinner - mine being grilled scallops in lemon butter, absolutely sublime - when the clanging of a bell sounded and out marched a line of people from behind the bar, to surround a bloke grinning sheepishly down at his plate. It turned out that it was his birthday and the staff were serenading him as a consequence. I've seen this before in restaurants but usually it involves line-dancing, not bells, accordions and yodellers. Which was what was happening here. It was fantastic! Accordions usually make me cack myself much in the manner of a tuba, trombone or bagpipes, but I was just enthralled by the spectacle. We all started clapping in time with the music while Yodel Man did his thing, and at the end of it we were all laughing and animated and uplifted to a degree above our usual selves. This is all sounding very trite as I'm writing it, but I can't convey it any better - you had to be there.

Lukey started to grizzle and I put my hand in his mouth - CHOMP. The little man's first teeth had arrived! Two little ones on the bottom. I was delighted, although I did feel a pang of wistfulness that Mr McSpaz hadn't been there to witness the momentous occasion. (I remember when Angus got his first tooth - his father wasn't around either, so I rushed downstairs to tell my mother-in-law instead. 'Oh yeah, I saw that tooth yesterday,' she said, smiling at me dismissively. Bloody old wrinkly haggis.)

It was getting near nine and I didn't think I could keep my eyes open too much longer. I was dreading going back to On the Wallaby and decided that I would try and get a room at the pub if I could. One of my new acquaintances, Ben, kindly offered to walk with me to inquire at the pub, and then help me get my things out of my room at the backpackers' lodge. The office wasn't open but the front bar - a gigantic room with a ceiling about six metres high, walls covered in rugby paraphernalia - was still lively. I was in luck because there were still two rooms available. For $85 I got a room with a double bed, a single bed, a BATHROOM, for Christ's sake, a fridge, a television... I felt incredibly privileged. I immediately booked it and Ben and I went up to On the Wallaby to collect my luggage. It was quieter there than I'd expected, I suppose the Afrikaners were all out the back being dour, or off by the lake spotlighting for wild pigs or something. Jeez, I'm not a racial stereotypist at all, am I? Next time someone asks me if Aussies ride kangaroos to work, I shall answer them very patiently and politely because I know what it is to be One of Them. Anyway, Damian said he'd get my second night refunded, bless him; I packed my bags and headed back to the pub.

My room at the pub was up a steep flight of wooden stairs; rather than face lugging Luke's pram up there, I folded it up and left it near the front door. The room itself was quite basic and austere, but after On the Wallaby it was comparative luxury. I had a writing desk, cold water in the fridge, double doors that led out on to the upstairs patio, and a bathroom all to myself. I threw myself on to the single bed and bounced up and down in ecstasy. Then I tucked Luke and myself into the double bed, turned on the Commonwealth Games and settled in for a better night's sleep than I'd been anticipating four hours ago, when I first encountered the Possum room's mosquito net!

Part Four to follow - revisiting Kuranda and Atherton, cracking open my very own geode, and kicking up my heels at one totally awesome wedding.

[A Mum]

Great stuff - great reading Fisho

[fisho mcspaz]

Random observation: A true mate is someone who will, after you collapse in the toilets of the Emu hotel and vomit so hard that your earring falls into the toilet bowl, reach in and fish around in the spew until they find it.

[Media Park]

Random observation: A true mate is someone who will, after you collapse in the toilets of the Emu hotel and vomit so hard that your earring falls into the toilet bowl, reach in and fish around in the spew until they find it.

And then buy you a beer...

[fisho mcspaz]

It's been a while since I posted on here - been having a tough time with illness, but I promise to be back firing on all cylinders in the new year. Anyway, I just wanted to wish everyone a merry Christmas and I hope you all have a terrific day.

[A Mum]

Same to you Fisho

Look forward to hearing about Christmas day adventures in the fisho household perhaps

[valleys07]

Random observation: A true mate is someone who will, after you collapse in the toilets of the Emu hotel and vomit so hard that your earring falls into the toilet bowl, reach in and fish around in the spew until they find it.

that is dedication!

[Media Park]

So what's new in McSpaz land?

[RustyCage]

Hope you are starting to feel better fisho

[fisho mcspaz]

Greetings, SAFooty comrades! Haven't been on here in a little while - I've been on holiday in beautiful K. I. Got back just today and will be writing up my trip in great detail shortly.

Not feeling heaps better, to be honest, but I've been referred to a neurologist so I'm hoping for a positive outcome from that. In the mean time it's chin up and try and not get addicted to narcotics.

[GWW]

Welcome back Fisho and Happy Birthday.

[A Mum]

Yes indeed - welcome back Fisho - we certainly did miss you

[fisho mcspaz]

Been meaning tow rite on here for a while now. Haven't seem to finded tbhe time yet. Too much work. And today, ,my work ratio was halved by thre fact that I had a whole spaz fainting weird episode. And that was the last damn straw. SO I'm trying to forget it. The best way I can. which is to say i'm rather festivelyt tipsy. I don't mean I'm all, ahhhhhhhhh i just cut myself ahhhhhhh i'm gonna post it on facebook and see how many peopele pity me, but to be perfectly honemst, I don't know what I mean. I just want to write. And talk. And I feel most comfortable doing it here. SAFooty is like my worn-out, poo-brown beanbag of the HTML world. And I mean that in a good way. To me a worn-out poo-brown beanbag is worth a few thousand dollars (im not gonna say a million because I am trying to be realistic here). To put it in perspective I only earn about $800 a fortnight on my scholarship.

The main reason I have found it so hqrd to write lately is becauser I am waiting to see a neurologist about my head. So at the moment i have no answers. I am in limbo. Like, waht is wrong with my head? We don't know, let's send you to this dude, he works a really long way away and he charges up the bum. Fair enougjh. I don't really mind what the outcome is. I mean, if there's something rteally awfully wrong with me, the neurologist, or a brain surgeon, will fix it, right? And if it canj't be fixed, I'll just have to deal with it. I'll have to work out how to make the best out of what I've got left and how to make sure my family enjoys it too and to give them as much of myself as I can, because I think they'll value it the most and once I'm six feet under I'm not going to be worth too much, am I now? But it's the waiting that kills me. I just want to know!!! Is that too hard to ask? Evidently so, because Dr. Awesome is booked out until June, whereupon I shall pay my $320 consulting fee and hopefully get an MRI out of him. And some goddamn ANSWERS.

I want very much to talk about my holiday to K. I. and all of that but I'm finding I can't right now. All I can talk about is depressing s*** and that's the last thing i want to talk about so i'll fdinish this off now ey.

I hope to be back on here soon, in my right mind, preferably sober, tlaking about whatever trivial rubbuish that is going on in my life. I don't think i could ask fro much more than tthat right now to be perfectly honest.

[Media Park]

It took until the last paragraph for me to work out if it was the mystery illness that was responsible for the spelling mistakes...

The you mentioned "sober!"

Good work Fisho! Pissed posting!


ps get well soon

[fisho mcspaz]

haha, s***. The person who invents a device to stop people from using the internet when drunk will make a fortune.

Anyway, I'm off the piss again. It just isn't worth it.

Slowly pulling myself up out of the oubliette in general - things will be much easier in a couple of weeks' time when bubs goes into childcare. The past six months, I've been a full-time mum with a full-time job as well, and it's just getting too much. It'll be good to have a bit of breathing space and some quiet time to get on with writing my book.

Speaking of which, I have managed to write some more of it, and I'll be posting up a few excerpts over the next week or so. Any feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated.

[fisho mcspaz]

Shall be writing of this in more detail tomorrow (still working on it)... but we had a Pirate Party for the eldest Fisho Jr (Angus) last weekend. It was a great day, although I shall never, ever, attempt Pass-the-Parcel again, and I have also realised that it is useless to try and be calm and polite while cutting the cake up.