Creature comforts

After the humidity of Darwin, it came as blessed relief to step off the plane into a cool Auckland afternoon as a gentle northerly breeze soothed our skin and swept the red dust of the outback from our clothes....we some of the dust anyway. I swear I'll be finding the red pigment for years to come.

Where once if felt as if the whole environment was out to get us, we felt instantly calmed and, well, safe. That is not to say that we didn't have a great time in Australia, it was a fantastic experience and thoroughly recommended, but we never felt truly relaxed. Admittedly our cosseted UK upbringing has a lot to do with that -  you were more likely die of thirst from the once archaic pub opening hours than you were from exposure and  "a nasty nip" was to do with inclement weather and not part of the fauna.

So it is only now, with the guards down as it were, that I feel safe enough to entertain you with a story of our brush with Australian wildlife. Read on......

We had been in the Outback for nearly a week and considered ourselves to be seasoned bush travellers. Well providing someone else was doing the driving and there was an ample supply of hot towels obviously. To this point I'd seen a whole raft of animals, some more deadly the others, but none short of fascinating; crocodiles, both freshwater and salt, parrots, Rock wallabies, kangaroos, muddy munters (or something like that - it was a fish so I wasn't paying much notice), turtles, Reef sharks and several spiders. But despite all that, I still hadn't seen a snake and so, despite feeling slightly relieved, felt short changed.

It wouldn't have been a problem except I was warned to always walk at night with a torch, especially when visiting the toilet, for fear of accidentally standing on a wandering belly crawler. Although I hadn't been advised of the implications of standing on a snake, it didn't take much imagination to see that it would not end well. And I don't mean for the snake.

To rectify the situation, our guide was on high alert to seek out, with a fair margin of safety of course, a local snake for us to photograph, again from a safe-ish distance. In fact I wasn't really fussy, if a local reptile wasn't available then a travelling snake would do just fine. Maybe one on his holidays. Happy either way.

Despite this, we had been travelling for several hundred kms without so much of a sniff, or hiss, of a snake. I was told, I suspect to manage my expectations, that as this was technically winter the snakes were hibernating and therefore unlikely to be out and about. This wouldn't stand. Hadn't they seen the brochure? Now at this point, it's fair to say, that Sarah was less than thrilled at the thought of seeing a live snake. This was nothing new and I only have myself to blame and admit that I shouldn't made her watch that documentary 'Snakes on a Plane'. Ah well, you live and learn.

Anyway, we ...sorry I... was starting to lose hope. We'd been travelling down a dirt track for over an hour and whilst termite cathedrals were awe inspiring, they weren't snakes. Then, just as I'd resigned myself to the fact that we wouldn't see any elusive reptiles today, the bus sudden lurch to the side of the road, leaving a dust plume as it did, and our guide suddenly jumped out of the cabin.

"He says he thinks he's seen a snake hid for cover in the bushes over there," said Steve who was sat in the passenger seat. 

Sure enough, our guide was scrambling in a bush just out of full view of the rest of the passengers. This was it. At last a chance to photograph a wild snake. It didn't matter how big it was, although I really wanted it to be huge, this was the opportunity we were waiting for.

He approached the side door and sure enough, wriggling in his grip, was a red-bellied black snake, so called because it was black with a red belly. An accurate name I'm sure you'll agree. Thankfully he seemed to have a good grip with the tail of the snake in one hand and the 'neck' in the other, gripping just behind the head so it couldn't inflict a fatal bite...

Actually I've got no idea whether red-bellied black snakes are poisonous but in a country where sea shells can inflict paralysis it's a safe bet that they are.

He opened the side door, very carefully so as not to lose his grip on the deadly creature, and stepped into the bus.....

....and tripped, accidentally flinging the reptile onto Sarah's lap. 

Well, you can imagine the reaction. I've never seen Sarah move so fast. With a thoroughly understandable shriek, she jumped up and almost knocked herself out on the roof of the vehicle. I'm still sure that, had there been no impediment to her trajectory, that she would e given Jess Enis a run for her money. And the snake? Well it lay motionless on the floor. Odd. 

A grin broke out on the guide's face. Even odder. Surely he should've been a little more concerned about his passengers' health. It was only through a second look at the snake that the truth began to dawn. It was plastic. And not alive. And therefore not at all poisonous.

"You bastard!" 

There may have been a response but I didn't hear it for the laughter. Mine and the rest of the passengers'.

As japes go, it was pretty good. Damn fine even and really well executed. So good in fact, it overcame the fact that we hadn't seen a real snake, and still haven't as it turns out. 

And that's ok. There are plenty of opportunities to do so in zoos behind the safety of safety glass. Better for me, better for the snakes and certainly better for Sarah!