Airports

Gold Coast Airport, Coolangatta

Travelling South from Dragonfly Mansions (our home-base) down to the coastline (hope no one noticed that) border between Queensland and New South Wales, and sitting just north of the mouth of the River Tweed, lies the cheery town of Coolangatta. Home to what is known as the Gold coast’s airport, the sinking of the schooner Coolangatta there in 1846 and another quite popular holidaying destination.

And the reason I bring all this to light, is we had to go trawl down there the other evening to collect Madi (Jodie’s daughter) off of a plane coming in from Sydney where she had been visiting her Grandad Barry (remember Noah’s Ark?) with her father over the Christmas period.

Click here for lots of pics again

Anyway, with all that in mind, we donned our Dora the Explorer hats and backpacks once again and set off on our way down the King’s highway or to use its real name, the M1 Pacific Highway (We did it, we did it) to see what we could see, do what we could do and somewhere along the line, collect any spare, unsuspecting and vacant looking children found licking windows in the arrivals lounge of what is the official 2^nd airport to the city of Brisbane while still continuing to collect all forms of amateurish coloured photographs to document it all and fully bore you all to death with.

So approaching Coolangatta through neighbouring nicety, Kirra, we parked up (or did the putt-putt finally break down? One or the other) next to what is locally known as the ‘big groyne’ which separates the two beaches (oh dear, beaches again. Is there no end to them in Australia?) of Kirra and Coolangatta which sit  overlooking Surfers Paradise in the distance heading north across the water.

The Big Groyne from Kirra Beach

And just like many of the other beaches here (all of them in fact) these are also blessed with golden white sands, rocky outcrops, blue skies, crystal clear waters, photogenic scenery and everything else the Australian blueprint for beaches seems to carry (I’m not allowed to mention the bikini clads), this time with the added bonus of world renowned surfing.

Later that evening, we all checked in at the airport just in time to check out with the required extra bodies. It was quite a scary experience actually, not solely because it was Madi we were collecting (honestly), but because it was also bringing home the reality that my time here in Australia was nearly up and I too would be once more partaking of the airport facilities. Eeeek

How can that possibly be with so very much remaining to be seen and done? After all, there’s always time for another beach or twelve isn’t there? And then there are the innards of this great place to explore. Not to mention the fact it is still freezing back home in Blighty (Shivers at the mere thought of it).

I haven’t even considered the likes of Uluru (Ayres Rock), either yet. Then there’s the north, the south, what’s left of the east and then the west to still see. It’s all so very much to do, with so very, very little time. All I can say is thank heavens we got to meet with the legend that is the wombat, an unknown entity found parading on google turf for the last two years, Billy Bob Wombat (fireman extraordinaire) finally became a reality a few days earlier for us when both australian and anglophile worlds clashed head on at the Boathouse Tavern Last Friday. It was a good day and a trans-continental Buzz-up to top them all. As indeed  was the one with Cath Slater (almost forgiven now Cath :) ).

And apologies in advance for the intrusion into your privates Bob (or +Ned Kelly as we now know you thanks to the Google nym police) but both  Jodes and I came to the unanimous conclusion that both Google plus and the now recently defunct Buzz,  made you look a lot rounder in body and face than you do in real life. And it is with that and nothing but that in mind, that we felt almost compelled to post up your mug on here and see if Blogger does it too. 


Mmm, for now, the Jury remains out… Maybe you should try dreadlocks?