Days 32 & 33 Mackay

Days 32 & 33 Mackay

Well we did say our plans are fluid! Instead of the leisurely exploration of Airlie Beach and perhaps a side trip to Finch Hatton Gorge and maybe even an opportunity to look for platypus at Eungella, we hurtled down the Bruce Highway, John at the wheel and Barb moaning and clutching her arm like a stroke victim towards ..... the Mackay Base Hospital Emergency.

Mackay Base Hospital Emergency

It's as though Barb has suddenly become a secret shopper at emergency rooms around Queensland's public hospitals. Ugh! NOT how we really want to spend our holidays. Miserable doesn't even begin to describe how she was feeling and no doubt looked, not to mention dishevelled as she hadn't been able to lift her arm up to shower properly and John couldn't go into the ladies showers to help her. Life is full of  silly rules. Hah! She was whisked into the triage room and sent off for Xrays fairly promptly. The doctor felt that it was probably tendonitis of the rotator cuff tendon. No tear evident and he said the best thing for it was to keep the joint mobile. Not so easy to do when the slightest movement caused great pain. Analgaesia! Endone! That should do the trick.

Off we went to find a pharmacy. We ventured into a large shopping centre and into a Malouf Pharmacy where we were greeted by an elderly man who insisted on shaking your hand. "Hello, I'm Richard Malouf and I own this pharmacy. What do you think of the service here?"

Well we'd be there all of two seconds. Okay so far I guess. Then he proceeded to tap Barb on her painful shoulder to offer her a smell of some perfume and ask again what we thought of the service.
Don't touch me is all I ask. Especially on my sore arm. Agony and charm dispensed he then toddled off to accost another unsuspecting customer. "Hello I'm Richard Malouf ......" The staff cringed apologetically. I got the drugs.

Well that was it for Barb. She was bombed out on Endone, but blessedly pain-free at last. At least it was a good night's sleep that night. Barb spaced out was quite wonderful.  My driving was critique free!

We had checked in to a random caravan park we'd found in our RACQ book. It turned out to be rather nice, being situated on what once had been wetlands but was now reclaimed. Nobody had told the birdlife that it was no longer wetlands, however, and they continued to make it their home. The grounds were immaculately manicured by the very elderly caretaker (?owner) of the park. He spent all day pottering around in the grounds ensuring that everything was watered, trimmed and tidied. His favourite job of the day was feeding the birds. We noticed a long line of ducks marching in the same direction past our campsite, and then saw where they were headed. The bird whisperer cum gardener had a wheelbarrow full of bird food which he took to an open paddock and started throwing to these eager birds who had gathered to enjoy this evening ritual. There were all manner of birds, even some magpie geese .... it really was a lovely spectacle and all for free.

Feed the birds

The bird whisperer