Expectations

I was not too jet-lagged to pay $20 to hold a koala, soft and solid like a stunted baby. We arrived on the Queen's birthday, and most attractions, businesses, and restaurants were closed. But not the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary. Koalas don't rest for the Queen of England. Koalas rest because that's what they do, bunched up in the crook of a tree. They're just as adorable as you'd imagine. They look unreal even in person, but perhaps that's because I've only ever had a stuffed koala. They're not bears. They're only safe in eucalyptus trees.

A kookaburra stole fresh meat from a Tasmanian Devil. A sheepdog herded sheep down the hill. A platypus, full grown the size of my forearm, swam laps in a tank. Dingos--just Scooters with pointy ears and mean appetites--lounged on cots. Kangaroos spread out their tails and let you pet them and prod them and photograph them but not sit down next to them to chill. One large male pulled a female in, his hulking upper body gripping her belly, and mated for minutes until she wiggled away. He hopped after her, through the amused tourists, for more.