![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQHe_jxNkrO4F-c-qbs3E03NFL167gqoYFbgczsHRJ7Dln7WCqZLhyphenhyphenYO2g5lshmHBjAx5z45cOgLNGdx3_RElrv7G8NrM-9fenDkM5WnRZwdgJNe9m0BgLo-w4C2iA8xhTmsD2_jXlgY/s400/Canberra+019.jpg)
When I
broke my wrist four years ago, I was just about to go to Australia to drive from Sydney to
Canberra. As I thought the hire car company would take a dim view of my driving in a cast, I took along with me the sister who'd given me first aid when I fell off the stairs, to be chauffeur. It was fun, even though we had to share a double bed a couple of times - that was a trip back in time, for sure - and once we'd sorted out the bossy-older-sister thing that had her telling me, "That's interesting, write that down!"
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3NgzyNFwj_Vlrg9hoBcXisk7yQdo6uKYzn1dJ_1C-WchxRVdls_Ubgd3C-VxY2u2BujdDcPsPo00mQcGo1AYtHVNJVpkei_Ec8ZzQ6ozbgyeUKEI28ldT2Koo7UnUNXqyVzMmYysyRHc/s400/Canberra+055.jpg)
The highlight of the visit was going to the Australian War Memorial, which is a fabulous museum-cum-memorial with a huge range of really well displayed exhibits, and dioramas to die for (I'm a sucker from way back for a good diorama, and have the series of forehead bruises to prove it). It's fascinating, and solemn, and moving, and must be wither-wringing on Anzac Day.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAn6bANVL6M7i0FSncsooG5TcoqcwgsOyoScC5ObzwUBpK0CTQY7aSgHo-fMlGwwjLdAP4N30Zja5FoU4xqicSJSpFeDpqxtGm7faOZyAY0_vke-kGM4xWsnhdX4VEhMqRzQgGE1ForLk/s400/Canberra+046.jpg)
But it was also pretty special to take the behind-the-scenes tour at the zoo, where we were delighted to find ourselves feeding (with comfortingly long-handled tongs) lions, tigers, cougars, and bears. I'd never got this close to a bear before and it was a thrill to have one standing up licking creamed corn off my hand, its alarmingly long claws poking through the wire.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCL8IDw1FbF4ShQp6ZJ8cOGJzpv7rqwrRJXBi8YQn3VCPH0tz16rQpSu5HsIAIyet5T7iweKmDKPDC-Jm8u0JQlrgHl4ASfb5Cnf6cxDrvI48aYYVf3xwAYNQ9pPdH0AQq_n3-IEnUI74/s400/IMG_5580.JPG)
They also had a liger - a cross between a lion and tiger, which was a beautiful animal, in a bizarre and disturbing way.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG3E_5oZPGDccB8zC_exDafK8VNNurQY3OE-HrKkcyWCXyKcrTdIJWdk_oMvMWgDFhCR6dkZIARhGnLXkasqChWMt56iLpSlElhK78CxA7maWz3_mBUfYMip3PRqUZe53X1gZ6BhTv3vw/s400/Canberra+039.jpg)
I'm not entirely a fan of zoos, and can remember all too well the horrific bare concrete enclosures that used to be the norm. But I do love to see the animals, and when they're living in the sort of natural, stimulating environment that enlightened zoos aspire to these days, I can allow myself - temporarily, anyway - to be won over by the consciousness-raising and preservation arguments. Not for the big, far-roaming animals, though, especially in climates that are patently unsuitable. They have polar bears at Sea World on the Gold Coast, you know. That's just wrong.
No comments:
Post a Comment