Well, we eventually decided to leave the koala alone and continue our journey. Eventually we found ourselves in Snookums’s home town, Eungai Creek. After we dropped our stuff off, we headed up Mount Yarrahapinni so I could check out the lay of the land. “Yarrahapinni” apparently means ‘koala rolling down a hill’ in the local Aboriginal tongue. As it was threatening to rain, we only went about halfway up one side. The block of land below us belongs to Snookums’s sister and her boyfriend.

Another view from Yarrahapinni, looking towards the sea.

This is the part of the trip where dates get confusing. Because of the horrible weather, we stayed at the house most of the time and only made short trips during the dry spells. I’m pretty sure that this was taken on the next day, which would’ve been Thursday the 8th (if anybody’s keeping track). It’s the view from Scott’s Head, I think, and you can see just how icky and dismal it was. This is when we started to realize that some of the low-lying places were going to flood.

Friday the 9th of March was the date of the fateful Leech Attack. Snookums and I had been staying in his old room, which was above the family garage. That morning I had put on my sandals and walked the 15 yards to the house. We had breakfast, and I kept my shoes on for the next two or three hours. That afternoon we decided to check out his parents’ whirlpool. (No snickering – they told us we could!) When we got out, Snookums noticed that there was a tiny spot of blood on the floor. We both looked at our feet, but we didn’t see anything. That’s when Snookums said, “Don’t put your shoe back on.” He shook my sandal over the sink, and this fell out.

Isn’t that atrocious?! Apparently it’s a “land leech”, which is a creepy crawly particular to Australia and not the U.S. (thank your lucky stars). We finally found where it had bitten me on the side of my foot and Snookums bandaged me up. Then we salted the sucker and watched him shrivel in agony. Apologies to all NSPCA members, but come on. The thing was sucking my blood. I was entitled to a little retribution.

In case any of you tree huggin’ hippie types are still upset over the death of the leech, let me direct your attention to the wound that is still in the process of healing on my right foot. The suckers inject some kind of anti-coagulant, so even though he’d barely bitten me it bled and bled for hours. It was alright for about a week after that, and then it began to itch like mad. Suffice it to say that whenever I went outdoors after that, I was wearin’ my boots.

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