[Hanging around Noosa, Sunshine Coast, Australia; 29 September 2004]
It’s like any beach resort town, really, although I’m told it seldom lets up. Most guests are native Queenslanders, but I saw some foreigners, too. Linda wants me to use the word ‘alien’, which is how foreigners are labeled by the US authorities upon entry to the US. The main attraction is the beach, but of course there is the usual collection of shops and eateries that every resort town needs. Temperature was, as always so far, absolutely perfect. High seemed in the 80s, but because there’s no humidity (yet), it could have been even hotter. I never raised a sweat. After walking through town, we ambled along the cliffside walkway that shows this gorgeous beach to its finest. Waves have not been particularly high, so I asked my hosts and others along the way where are the famous Australian surfer waves we see in movies. Evidently, the wind conditions have served to tame these mightily. It’s pretty—don’t get me wrong, but in a less dramatic way. In general, people swim (just play, actually) in the ocean only in protected areas. For more serious water activity, there seem to be man-made facilities nearly everywhere. I’m told that riptides and animals are the problems here, and when you can circumvent both, why not.
I looked at real estate listings in an office we passed, and they were no less outrageous than in any similar area of the US. You could get something for less than a million, but you could pay a lot more, too.