G'day from Down Under!

Well, y'all, I'm happy to report I'm HERE -- North Lakes in the Moreton Bay region just outside Brisbane, Australia, my home for a total of seven weeks.

First impressions: It's so ordinary in its familiarity that I have had a hard time remembering I'm in a foreign country. OK, the majority of the folks talk like the luscious Hugh Jackman, an Aussie native, and cars drive on the left-hand side of the road. But the 15-year-old suburb where my exchange house is located could be mistaken for Florida -- palm trees, hibiscus, birds-of-paradise and other vegetation under clear blue skies.

I haven't spotted a kangaroo or koala yet, but my back yard is a haven for native Australian birds. My hands-down favorite is the flock of rainbow lorikeets -- with blue heads, red beaks and bright plumage of green and every other color of the rainbow. They're like parakeets on steroids and are truly brilliant.

Further to set the stage: The house in which I'm staying has all the comforts one dreams of in a home exchange arrangement, but which one seldom gets, as we've discovered over the years. As a result, I'm afraid my blogs from Oz may be rather on the dull side, given the fact that I have already figured out how to use the microwave...and that the washing machine has a cycle that's less than three hours...and there's a fully operational desktop computer with Internet service...and there are actual, by-god utensils and cookware in the kitchen, as well as a well-stocked linen closet!!!

On top of these marvellous attributes are the facts that the place is a spacious ranch-style home (no stairs!) and a car with automatic transmission. And a clothes dryer. A clothes dryer!! And it WORKS! The owner still prefers the Medieval method of drying her washing on the line outdoors, but hey, this diva can go native only so far, especially when she's on holiday. I hung a load out this morning just to play nice, but when dark hit at 5 p.m. -- yes, 5 p.m. -- and those clothes were still damp, into the dryer they went.

Weather-wise, Queensland is considered semi-tropical, so even though it's smack-dab in winter here, the temps have been very mild so far -- about 70 to 74 in mid-afternoon, but as soon as the sun goes down, the thermometer goes into a nosedive. It's doing a number on my psyche to know that it's June and yet have to accept that these are the shortest days of the year in the Southern Hemisphere. Fortunately, my first four days here the sun was shining brightly, if only for a few hours at a time.

Before she left, my hostess graciously showed me how to turn on the "air conditioner" -- which is the contraption I fervently hope is really a "furnace." I kept asking about turning on the heat if it gets cold enough to warrant it. (Remember my swap in Lancashire, where it was so damp and cold I had to burn a fire every night?) And my Aussie exchanger kept saying, "Oh, you won't need the air conditioner." Well, heck,l no, I'm thinking, I shouldn't need the "air conditioner" in the wintertime! But then came my "Aha" moment when I finally understood her definition of terms: In Aussie-speak, an air conditioner provides both cold AND HOT air.

However -- and here is where I knew I wasn't going to spared at least some domestic drama this go-around -- I am supposed to use this heat-producing unit very sparingly because of the cost of energy and the threat of committing gecko homicide. Yes, you read this correctly: Gecko homicide. It seems that the local gecko population seeks out air conditioners for warmth at this time of year, and as soon as these mechanisms are cranked up, the little lizards are pulvarized -- leaving the air conditioners as dead as they are. 

I have no reason for doubting this unfortunate possibility, since my hostess pointed out a pile of gecko poop in the fuse box as proof. On the other hand, if it gets cold in this house as winter wears on, I may have to sacrifice a lizard or two. I'll do so with deep regret, but don't say I didn't warn them.

Regarding the décor in the house, it's perfectly sophisticated and acceptable -- not necessarily my taste, but then who shares my passion for purple? At least it doesn't look like Early Goodwill, or something that the cat rejected for breakfast. (Remember the house in London?!) The TV has a great picture and receives more than three channels, most of them in English, and all the furniture is fabulously comfortable. No chiropractors will be required!

So domestically, gecko threats aside, my cup runneth over. Those of you who have followed Our Intrepid Traveler might remember the various challenges she has had with her various domestic arrangements over her years of house-swapping can appreciate how I'm sighing with relief. True, I don't expect a replication of American conveniences when I'm abroad, but it's a wonderful thing when so many of the mod-cons materialize at one time. In fact, it's the best place all-around that I've ever drawn in the lottery known as house-swapping.

And did I mention that I'm only six miles from Moreton Bay, which opens into the Pacific Ocean? I've already sussed out the public park that extends along the shore in nearby Redcliffe on the bay.
So even though I haven't yet delved into the many tourist treasures Austray-a has to offer, I'm happy here in my home base -- and after a 29-hour trip, that constitutes Living Large!