Murramarang Camping Weekend, Part 2

On Sunday (let's just call it The Big Day), I counted the minutes until opening time at Birdland Animal Park in the nearby town of Batemans Bay.  We had already been to a couple of other animal parks and zoos, but I knew this park would hold a very special place in my heart.

It was fun to see a koala awake and eating; the most strenuous activity I had them seen perform previously was a slow opening of the eyes and closing, much like the "exercise" classes I held during my short-lived first job out of college as an Activities Director at a nursing home.

This particularly fluffy kangaroo was the prettiest I had ever seen, and I had to restrain myself from giving him zerbits on his belly.

I bravely walked by the ostriches, an animal that has haunted me ever since my parents cruelly forced me into a van for a drive around Lion Country Safari in Florida.  I don't know if I truly remember 'the incident' or if I have recreated the image from my parents teasing me about it for 30 years, but a) they made me sit next to the window and b) a ostrich was on the loose, running alongside our van maneuvering its thin hairy neck attempting to get inside the van (read: eat me).  If anyone has ever wanted to film a horror movie about ostriches, I've got the screenplay written in my head.  According to the website, Lion Country Safari is "The Best Value Theme Park in Florida".  That's right, folks, forget about Disney World--step right up and scar your children for half the price than at other parks!

Luckily, I escaped the ostriches yet again.  One of the park staff brought out a python we could hold, and Jackson jumped at the chance; Alex declined.

I'm not a fan of snakes, a fact that was confirmed when I held one for the picture.  Kenyon didn't take his eyes of the snake's head the whole time it was near him.

I love this picture of our friends Kylie and Issy; the look on Issy's face was how I felt.

And then.

The moment had arrived.

When the park staff brought out Bubbles the Wombat to be held (to be held!!), I swear my eyes filled with tears, but I fought them back because I didn't want to be the crazy lady who cried at the animal park.  Bubbles' hefty, stout body was placed into my arms much like my own boys were the moment they were born.  And I'm only slightly exaggerating when I say that the amount of joy I felt was pretty darn close to those days as well.

The claws, the pointy-tipped ears, the whiskery nose? CUTE OVERLOAD.

I reluctantly handed her off so other people could experience the utter joy of a wombat snuggle.

I'm already planning my next visit (and snuggle) when my parents come to visit next month.

Wilsons Prom

kangaroos and koalas and wombats, oh my!

Our night in the forgettable teeny town of Foster was worth it, because we arrived at Wilsons Promontory National Park ('the Prom') by 9am on Sunday and were able to get a campsite.  On the drive in, we saw this fun road sign…the stout little creatures on the bottom of that sign are wombats.  I was SO excited at the prospect of glimpsing these little ones!  We saw a couple of kangaroos, but my eyes were peeled for wombats (I didn’t know this at the time, but they are nocturnal).

And, those wacky Australians did it again with naming things.  I’m not making this up—as we passed a creek, we saw a sign that said ‘Poop Fellon Me Creek’.  Not kidding; I can only imagine the scenario that led to the naming of this little body of water.

The campground is chock full of kids, and they all seem to have a plastic cricket set.  Three games at once were going on in the playground area, and our boys joined in, learning the rules as they played.

The Prom is beautiful—mountains, ocean, and river all blend into one at the Tidal River campground.  As you’d guess from the name, the river changes depending on the tide, so at low tide it’s virtually a dry bed with water along the edge, and at high tide it’s a completely filled in river.  

the beautiful path leading to the river

It all meets the ocean, which is also lovely to spend time at. 

The broad expanse of gentle waves washing up on the shore was the perfect place to practice skimboarding.

This whole day by the water was enjoyable, but I was basically tapping my fingers and humming and patiently waiting for dusk, when the wombats supposedly emerge.  All over the place you can see wombat nests, little hollows dug out in the brush. 

We all went on a nature walk at dusk, but alas, no wombats.  When the kids were tucked into their sleeping bags, Sam and I went back out—and were handsomely rewarded with the most fuzzy cuteness marsupial ever.

I’m in love; with a nice man’s super-strong flashlight illuminating the adorable little animal, I was able to creep closer and closer and ended up on my belly taking a nice close-up picture as it munched happily on grass.

I resisted the overwhelming urge to snuggle it.

There was a perfect stuffed animal version of a wombat at the visitor center gift shop, and it was a grim realization of full adulthood to know it would be ridiculous to purchase a stuffed animal for myself.  I settled for a wombat-themed dish towel, and I may or may not be seen snuggling it in my kitchen in the near future.