The Battle Against Insects Continues
I think I need to start naming the bugs with which I come into contact the way meteorologists name hurricanes and tropical storms. I have a feeling that my battle of bugs is going to be an ongoing saga during this trip. This morning, while washing dishes, an inch-long kamakazi moth dove into my wet frying pan with reckless abandon. Scared me half to death. Now, to start with, I do not like bugs. Not one bit. Add to that the fact that practically every insect and arachnid in Australia is lethal and you’ve got an almost instant heart-attack. Adam, the moth, was successfully and intentionally drowned in a maniacal homicidal fashion.
Ten minutes later, as I was walking barefoot back to my room to make the bed, I almost had a stroke. Standing in the middle of the doorway in a very threatening stance was a large reddish brown insect staring me down and mouthing the words, “Go ahead …make my day!”
I wrote a clear account of its description and placement in my journal before bequeathing my most important possessions to my loved ones and photographing the possible cause of my death for the coroners to examine. I ran to the front door to put on shoes before running over to the office where the vacuum cleaner was hiding behind the door. I carefully plugged it in and prayed that this bug was not of the jumping variety. I didn’t know what I’d do with a projectile bug in the face. Billy, the big reddish brown bug, was sucked into oblivion and the vacuum now sits behind the closed door of the office. I really hope I don’t have to go in there again …just in case Billy finds his way out of that machine. Brrrr… (goosebumps.) Note to self: wear shoes at all times.
I decided to leave as soon as possible so as to avoid listening to Billy’s angry and threatening screams from behind the shut door. I hopped on the 389 bus to Circular Quay and walked down to the Opera House and photographed it (accompanied by the ever present Aussie flies which are too great in number to get alphabetical tropical storm names) as well as the Harbor Bridge, Luna Park (from a distance,) the harbor, botanical gardens and a Government House.
On the lawn outside the government house, I photographed a most majestic tree. On the ground below the tree lay a man in the grass – not on a blanket, but on the grass itself. He must either be suicidal or hasn’t got a clue about the crazy lethal Aussie bugs. Good on you, mate. Best of luck to you.
At lunch in the CBD (Central Business District,) I lucked out and got a seat in a “NO FLY ZONE!!” Amazing! Yet, just a table away sat 2 businessmen absolutely covered in fies.
This afternoon as I was patiently enduring rush hour traffic on a bus bound for St. James train station, I passed the scene of an accident. Right in the middle of Elizabeth Street was a couple of ambulances, a half a dozen medical workers and the victim of man vs. car on a stretcher in the middle of the road. It could’ve been me I tell you. People here DRIVE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD!! Do you know how hard it is to cross the street when traffic is coming from every which way?!
I kept wondering how it could be that all the motorists are in on this same rebellion of driving on the wrong side of the road and how they aren’t penalized by the police until I saw the police were in on it too! They also drive on the wrong side of the road. It’s incredible!
It’s been a few years since I was last in England, India, Hong Kong and other British “colonies/ex-colonies.” I find it interesting that all of them (except for Great Britain) can have their own currency, use the metric system and speak their own languages but that they still drive on the wrong side of the road. In CBD Sydney, the authorities have been kind enough to paint on the road at each cross walk “LOOK RIGHT” to remind those of us for whom traffic normally comes from the left (practically every first world nation and even Russia!!) that we are risking our lives every time our feet leave the sidewalk.
(click photos to enlarge)