A One-Way Ticket to Coconut Island Please
I've been sniffling for a couple of weeks now. I'm not sure if its the remnants of the flu I had or just a general allergic reaction my body seems to have to winter. All I want to do is sleep. Its as if my body is slowly going into hibernation mode. As I curl up underneath two doonas I mutter, "Wake me when its summer." I've tried to think of something I like about winter and I could only think of one thing. It ends. Ok, ok, its Queensland - what have I got to complain about compared to the southerly states? Well, I've met people from those more southerly latitudes and they're different. I might be stereotyping here but I swear if you put a Queenslander and a Victorian in a cold room together you would probably soon see the following:
a) the Queenslander curling up into the foetal position chanting, 'hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches'.
b) the Victorian would glance at their watch and prepare to discard three layers of clothing in the next forty-five seconds.
The point being, Queenslanders are just not suitably adapted to anything much below one's own body temperature while Victorians can adapt instantly to any sort of climatic whim that their capital city wishes to inflict upon them.
To increase my chagrin, I noted that on one channel the weather news reporter had taken it upon themselves to deliberately taunt us suffering Queenslanders by including the average daily temperature enjoyed on an obscure tropical island north of the Cape York Peninsula. While we wait for the ice to thaw off our windscreens, the people who live on this most blessed piece of paradise known as Cocconut Island appear to enjoy a 28 degree average year-round. It doesn't seem to matter that Coconut Island is mostly inhabited by American tourists, the meteorologists feel that it is important for us to know that not everyone is subject to Australia's chilliest winter in over twenty-five years, God bless 'em.
Now excuse me, while I get back to my chanting - hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches...
a) the Queenslander curling up into the foetal position chanting, 'hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches'.
b) the Victorian would glance at their watch and prepare to discard three layers of clothing in the next forty-five seconds.
The point being, Queenslanders are just not suitably adapted to anything much below one's own body temperature while Victorians can adapt instantly to any sort of climatic whim that their capital city wishes to inflict upon them.
To increase my chagrin, I noted that on one channel the weather news reporter had taken it upon themselves to deliberately taunt us suffering Queenslanders by including the average daily temperature enjoyed on an obscure tropical island north of the Cape York Peninsula. While we wait for the ice to thaw off our windscreens, the people who live on this most blessed piece of paradise known as Cocconut Island appear to enjoy a 28 degree average year-round. It doesn't seem to matter that Coconut Island is mostly inhabited by American tourists, the meteorologists feel that it is important for us to know that not everyone is subject to Australia's chilliest winter in over twenty-five years, God bless 'em.
Now excuse me, while I get back to my chanting - hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches, hot sandy beaches...
Rucks and Rolls
Rugby World Cup 2007
...maybe it's my genetic heritage to thrive in heat...but I too am definitely a 'bear'...need to hibernate.
..Coconut Island...sigh...I can smell it...oh hang on, that's my perfume oil...
I hope you're over the sniffles Rachelle. It's Spring soon...yippee!!