Rescued Indy from Quarantine − 8 June, 2000
Eager as we were to be reunited with Indy, we were up and out of the hotel fairly early. This turned out to be a very good thing. We needed the extra time since I took a number of wrong turns and ended up driving around in the heart of Sydney during morning rush hour.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Still not anywhere near being used to driving on the other side of the road, I was a mess of nerves by the time we blundered our way out of that part of Sydney. And if Sydney has a slum, that is where we found ourselves next. I won't say that we feared for our lives or anything, but I sure as hell wasn't going to stop and ask directions.
Eventually, we made it to the highway that took us out to the suburb where the quarantine station was. It seemed like a reasonably nice facility, which made us feel a lot better about Indy being there for a month.
Once inside, we went through the paperwork shuffle of signing forms and making payments. As we were finishing up, one of the workers went to get Indy ready for us. She brought him into a little foyer area near the desk we were at. My god, he looked like a puppy!
He was happy to be out walking around -- his tail was wagging and he was sniffing around checking everything out. Then he looked over and saw us. He froze for a few seconds to process it. Then he went absolutely ape-shit; barking, tail going a mile-a-minute, and pulling at the leash so hard he nearly strangled himself.
As the happily reunited family went out to the car, we were confronted with an unforseen problem: we now have a big fucking dog crate we need to get into the car. We considered "donating" the crate to the quarantine station, but that idea was quickly nixed since we still needed it for the flight to Alice Springs.
So we completely unpacked the car and played Tetris with all our crap trying to get it all in. I have no idea how we did it, but we got it all in, and there was even room for us. The Beverly Hillbillies were amateurs compared to us. Now, where's my jug of corn squeezin's?
We were soon heading north on the Pacific Highway toward Port Macquarie. Our lodging for the next few days was near the small village of Hannam Vale. We'd be staying in a bed-and-breakfast called Penlan Cottage -- we'd have the entire house to ourselves. The reason we stayed so far outside of Sydney is that this was the closest place we could find that allowed dogs. That, and it seemed like a really nice place to stay.
You wouldn't think it was possible, but I managed to get lost on the fucking highway. Somehow, somewhere, I took a wrong turn and we ended up driving down a narrow little road that zigzagged down the face of a cliff toward the ocean. Very beautiful, scenic drive but I had no idea where the fuck we were.
We back-tracked to the highway and finally made it to the cottage... at around 11pm. From what we could tell in the dark, it seemed to be a really nice, rural area. We let the luggage explode out of the car, and headed inside. The cottage was fantastic -- there was even a fresh-baked loaf of bread waiting for us.
It being winter here (yeah, winter in June freaked me out a little), it got fairly cold at night. There was a huge down comforter on the bed, and portable space heaters in each of the rooms. It's such a good sleep when you're buried under a thick down comforter and the room is cold.
Would have been better had Indy not insisted on wedging himself between my wife and me...
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Still not anywhere near being used to driving on the other side of the road, I was a mess of nerves by the time we blundered our way out of that part of Sydney. And if Sydney has a slum, that is where we found ourselves next. I won't say that we feared for our lives or anything, but I sure as hell wasn't going to stop and ask directions.
Eventually, we made it to the highway that took us out to the suburb where the quarantine station was. It seemed like a reasonably nice facility, which made us feel a lot better about Indy being there for a month.
Once inside, we went through the paperwork shuffle of signing forms and making payments. As we were finishing up, one of the workers went to get Indy ready for us. She brought him into a little foyer area near the desk we were at. My god, he looked like a puppy!
He was happy to be out walking around -- his tail was wagging and he was sniffing around checking everything out. Then he looked over and saw us. He froze for a few seconds to process it. Then he went absolutely ape-shit; barking, tail going a mile-a-minute, and pulling at the leash so hard he nearly strangled himself.
As the happily reunited family went out to the car, we were confronted with an unforseen problem: we now have a big fucking dog crate we need to get into the car. We considered "donating" the crate to the quarantine station, but that idea was quickly nixed since we still needed it for the flight to Alice Springs.
So we completely unpacked the car and played Tetris with all our crap trying to get it all in. I have no idea how we did it, but we got it all in, and there was even room for us. The Beverly Hillbillies were amateurs compared to us. Now, where's my jug of corn squeezin's?
We were soon heading north on the Pacific Highway toward Port Macquarie. Our lodging for the next few days was near the small village of Hannam Vale. We'd be staying in a bed-and-breakfast called Penlan Cottage -- we'd have the entire house to ourselves. The reason we stayed so far outside of Sydney is that this was the closest place we could find that allowed dogs. That, and it seemed like a really nice place to stay.
You wouldn't think it was possible, but I managed to get lost on the fucking highway. Somehow, somewhere, I took a wrong turn and we ended up driving down a narrow little road that zigzagged down the face of a cliff toward the ocean. Very beautiful, scenic drive but I had no idea where the fuck we were.
We back-tracked to the highway and finally made it to the cottage... at around 11pm. From what we could tell in the dark, it seemed to be a really nice, rural area. We let the luggage explode out of the car, and headed inside. The cottage was fantastic -- there was even a fresh-baked loaf of bread waiting for us.
It being winter here (yeah, winter in June freaked me out a little), it got fairly cold at night. There was a huge down comforter on the bed, and portable space heaters in each of the rooms. It's such a good sleep when you're buried under a thick down comforter and the room is cold.
Would have been better had Indy not insisted on wedging himself between my wife and me...
