When we arrived at the Gold Coast airport and walked down the staircase to the tarmac, we were feeling pretty good about things. It was a little more than an hour flight and since we were changing time zones, we arrived at the same time we departed. We walked to the baggage claim and Elizabeth picked up the suitcase, I waited in line at the car rental desk. There were a few representatives at a half circle shaped counter, where two merged rental car companies gave out the keys to cars depending on which logo you booked your car under.
When I made my way up to the desk, there was a woman who appeared to be in her late 40’s or early 50’s. We went through the usual check-in process and she was really trying to upset the insurance. Elizabeth had walked up by then and sort of shook off the upgrade, while I gave a skeptical, “I don’t think that we’ll need it.” To which the representative, regaled a story about people that didn’t think that they would need insurance a few days prior. Apparently, the customers drove their car to the outback, and there was an unexpected hail storm, with balls of hail the side of grapefruits. According to her story, there were giant grapefruit sized dents all over the car, essentially totally the vehicle. Instead of paying the upgraded $500 deductible, they were expected to pay the standard $4000 deductible. I really wasn’t sure, if this story was fabricated or not, but because I am skeptical of most people, I wasn’t convinced to pay the extra $100 per day.
The representative was pretty informed. When Elizabeth brought up that a friend told her to go to Byron Bay, the persuasive representative basically sold Elizabeth on the idea that we should cancel our plans for the day and drive 2 hours in the opposite direction. As I took the keys, I brought everyone back to their senses that we should stick to our plan of going to Surfer’s Paradise.
We walked out to the parking lot to set eyes on our brand new KIA sedan. I was fairly used to driving on the left side of the road by now, but I was still cautious. I slowly pulled out of the parking lot and directly on to the motorway, but apparently not fast enough, because a driver in a hurry honked at me as I attempted to merge over.
Surfer’s Paradise was about an hour drive up the coastline and we the divided motorway past numerous beach towns with small mom and pop type hotels and motels. About halfway through our drive saw a giant yellow golf ball with a face on it and the words “Putt-Putt”. I was instantly sold, I needed to make it back to Mermaid Beach before the night was over. Elizabeth, who didn’t understand the alure of an authentic Putt-Putt course, gave me a “Yeah, sure.”, but I wasn’t going to NOT go to this course. It had been years since I had been to the previously famous Putt-Putt branded minature golf courses and now was my chance to not only get back to Putt-Putt, but get to “PUTT-PUTT” in Australia. My 10-year old self was giddy with anticipation.
We stopped a long the way at a Cole’s to pick up some snacks and booze to take back to the hotel and munch on along the way before we would sit down for lunch. To our luck there was a parking space right out front, with the coastal highway zooming on passed. After we stopped bought some bread, nutella, vegamite, and cheese, along with some fruits, we noticed that there wasn’t any alcohol aisle in the store. The previous time that we bought alcohol at the liquor store, we didn’t realize that they didn’t sell alcohol and groceries, but to our surprise, right next to the grocery store was a similarly branded, affiliated liquor store.
They didn’t have as many American beers as you would assume and the ones that they did have were the usual suspects of Bud Light and Coors. Corona and Dos Equis were also represented, but when in Australia, wouldn’t you want an Australian beer? And no, they don’t have Fosters. The clerk at the liquor store was more than happy to share his recommendations. He listed a few different local breweries, but said that his current favorite was James Squire One Fifty Lashes Pale Ale. I went with his recommendation and picked up a six pack. Elizabeth decided to go with a bottle of wine. I looked down at my Bundaberg Ginger Beer and thought that it might pair well with some absolute vodka, so I picked up a small bottle. After we paid, we pull ourselves away from our craft beer conversation and got back on the road to Surfer’s Paradise.
Suddenly, the mom and pop beach motels were dwarfed by the towering luxury condos and hotels of Surfer’s Paradise. High rises lined the sky and the Q1 tower stood out as once the highest residential building in the world. We turned down the street into what felt like the main party central for the area, then entered the underground parking garage. We were instructed to park in specifically marked spaces and went further and further down until we reach level three. We grabbed our bags and groceries and headed for the elevators.
We pressed the up button, then wait for the elevator doors to open. A few minutes passed, then we were joined by a building maintenance working. We asked him how long the elevators usually take and he alerted us that the wait was unusually long, because it was “Schoolies Week”. Having never heard of the term, “schoolie”, we learned that it meant that there were teenagers who were out of school after their finals and were taking the week to party. From what I could gather, there were two different schoolies weeks, one for what would be juniors in high school and one for what would be seniors in high school. So while the 17-year-olds would be crowding the streets this week, while the 18-year-olds were taking exams, their older counterparts would be filling the streets the next week. Apparently, this was a big deal, because who doesn’t think that older teenagers are annoying and obnoxious. We did think that we would be in luck, because if we wanted to go out to a bar, it would be empty, because the drinking age is 18 in Australia.
Regardless, the maintenance man blamed the schoolies for misusing the elevators and causing the delay. Apparently, they had all been up the night before and were just now waking up. I wondered, if it was so hard to get an elevator when the hotel was sold out in the summer, when families typically vacation. What we also learned about the Hilton was that when they were building the structure, they decided that half of the high rise would be hotel rooms, while the other half would be residential. The maintenance man explained that most residents, some of which only live there temporarily, leave town during schoolies weeks to avoid the headaches. So maybe the influx in traffic was, because they rented their apartments out and fifty kids with $5 each went in on a place for the weekend and were all taking the elevator at the same time.
Eventually, the elevator arrived and surprisingly, it was empty and the three of us entered the elevator and took it to the lobby. When we got out of the elevator, it didn’t seem extraordinarily crowded for a weekend and while there was some schoolies about, there wasn’t a line to check in at the desk. As we approached the counter, we passed on our information and asked the receptionist, what sort of options we had for an ocean view and she said that she would check on the availability. Fortunately, we were able to get into a room that faced the ocean, but would be obscured by another hotel, either way, it would be amazing. The receptionist reminded us that, because the streets would be filled with irresponsible and possibly inebriated teenagers, the roads around the hotel would be closed at 8pm, so if we left the hotel before then, we wouldn’t be allowed back into the parking garage after that time.
We took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor, were we entered the dimly lit hallway and followed the signs to our room. As we enter the room, we were pleased to be greeted by an amazing luxury room. We immediately headed for the sliding glass door to the patio, to check out the view, which sure enough allowed us to see the ocean, if only slightly. The view below allowed us to see how truly welcoming the area was to the schoolies, as banners and LED screens announced, “Schoolies Welcome!” in a dynamic, handwritten font, with white lettering and an electric pink background.
We hung around the room for a little while, connecting to the internet and checking out the tv channels, before deciding to head for the streets to get some lunch. Diagonally, from the Hilton was a brewery/pub called House of Brews, and we thought that it might be a nice place grab a beer and some lunch. We walked over and took at look at the menu to see that while there was a large selection of meat on the menu, there were a few vegetarian and salad options that looked like they would be large enough to share. The dish that stood out was called The Buddha Bowl. It was a bunch of different beans, peas, and other vegetables, that while being vegan, it was also super healthy.
We sat down at a bar style table that faced the road, where we could see rented luxury sports cars driving by every few minutes. There were only a handful of other people in on the patio. At the table in front of us, there sat a 30-something couple, who were eating what appeared to be a mountain of different kinds of meet, and were drinking something that came out pink and flaming. The waitress came by to take our order and Elizabeth asked if there was any happy hour specials. Unfortunately, it was only 2pm and happy hour didn’t start until 4pm, so our drinks would be full price.
We ordered up a buddha bowl and a pint of House of Brews Pale Ale, which Elizabeth said that she would share. The waitress corrected us and asked if we wanted a stein of beer. With no idea what the difference was, I shrugged and said sure. A few minutes later, she came back with 64oz stein of beer that was reminiscent of the beers that you might order at Oktoberfest. The beer seemed to cost a lot less than expected and I was surprised to see on a sign that the beer was only $8 during happy hour. I didn’t expect to get drunk so early in the day, but oh well, we were on vacation.
When the buddha bowl came out, it was hard to imagine one person ever being able to eat it in one sitting. The two of us eyed it up and dug in, eating until we were satiated with beer and beans (hardly the position that people would expect to see themselves in). We took back a box of the second half of the buddha bowl, which still seemed like a lot of food.
We decided to head down to the beach, walking under the Surfer’s Paradise sign. For a good hundred yards or so, in either direction there appeared to be an area that was blocked off for a schoolies party. There was a stage to the left, on the sand, where it was assumed that dancing and debauchery would be taking place only a few hours into the future. We walked down to the water to find that there was no one swimming or surfing for that matter. The space between the lifeguard flags was smaller than we had ever seen previously, so we didn’t know what to expect of the temperature or conditions. We stuck our feet in and discovered, that while it was summer, the Pacific Ocean was still a bit chilly and that going in above our knees wasn’t as desirable any more.
In spite of the overcast sky, it was a scenic view, so we laid on the beach for a little while, before deciding that it would be fun to check out the hot tub and spa at the hotel. We went back to our room to pick up some towels, and we were finally seeing signs of schoolie activity. The lobby was becoming more full of teenagers milling around. We made our way to the pool area and started dipping our feet into the pools to test their temperature. The outdoor pool was decorated with waterfalls, but didn’t pass the toe test. We walked through to the indoor pool, which was supposedly heated, but again it didn’t pass the toe test. The final pool was a small hot tub/spa with bubble jets. Being the warmest of the pools, we decided that it would be the one for us to enter, and we joined a handful of mix company schoolies.
The longer that we stayed in the hot tub, the more we noticed that it wasn’t as hot as you’d expect. Elizabeth described explained that the hot tub was the temperature that the heated swimming pool should be and the hot tube needed to be about 10 degrees hotter. I sarcastically compared it to the multi bath system that I experienced with her at a day spa, where you get into a heated mineral bath, and then take a dip in a cool bath to shock your pores or something. She wasn’t buying the comparison and stuck with the fact that the hot tub that we were in, in spite of its presence at a luxury accommodation, didn’t meet her expectations. I got out shortly after and went into the sauna, which was nice and cosy, compared to the slightly chilly ocean breeze.
In spite of our complaining, we were more relaxed that we were prior, and we went up to the room to take a quick nap before going back out. I still had the idea of going to the Putt-Putt course on my mind, so I checked out the best way to get there. I decided that if we expected to be out past 8, that we would be best served to take the local light rail system that would take us within a few blocks of the entrance. Elizabeth had started to not feel very well, and I questioned whether or not she felt up to go out to the Putt-Putt course. I told her that I would go solo, because Putt-Putt in Australia was a bucket list item that I didn’t know that I had. Reluctantly, she agreed to go, but she didn’t seem as into it as you’d want.
The light rail train that stopped right outside our hotel, would take us 5 stops in 10 minutes to Broadbeach South. Then we would have to walk 1km, which the map indicated would take about 12 minutes. As we arrived at the stop, we fed our dollar coins into the machine until we got two tickets to Broadbeach South. Signs around the station indicated that schoolies would have to pay for their tickets, I am assuming, because some kids might think they could hop on a train without paying and not get caught. The ticket provided used a tap technology where you had to tap your ticket at the station as you left and arrived at your destination.
When the train arrived, we joined the schoolies and local workforce for 10 minutes, before getting out at a seemingly desolate spot. Although, I remember there not being much in the way of dining along the drive up, the lack of a crowd around us or adequate lighting, made the next 10-15 minutes of walking seem like an eternity to Elizabeth. She had just decided that she was hungry and that meant that her low blood sugar could possibly lead to a bit of moodiness. I was still excited to play the Putt-Putt course, but I still managed to point out some of the dining options, that I saw on the opposite side of the divided highway. Elizabeth didn’t seem thrilled with the options, so we continued on.
Based on the commentary that Elizabeth was providing, I questioned if it would be better to go back rather than carry on. She continued to stay on course, but I knew that if we didn’t find something to eat soon, it wasn’t going to be the fun-filled evening that I was expecting. As the large glowing golf ball became more visible, I assured her that they would have a snack bar and we would be able to get something to eat there. Just before the Putt-Putt, there was a KFC, a Sizzler, and the Mermaid Beach Tavern. I personally wasn’t very hungry, so I was leaving the decision up to her. Since, she chose not to decide on a food option, then proceeded to walk through the Putt-Putt parking lot with a “Let’s get this over with” attitude. Unfortunately, when we walked up to the snack bar, she saw that the options were candy bars and hot dogs, and immediately turned around and walked back out to the parking lot.
While the best dining option was probably the Mermaid Beach Tavern, Elizabeth was so hungry that KFC was going to have to suffice. Even in the US, KFC is limited in it’s vegetarian options, it’s possible that you can get corn on the cob and green beans, to go a long with your mashed potatoes, and buttermilk biscuit, but this is Australia. What could we expect? Well, the vegetarian options were even more limited. There were no biscuits, green beans, or corn. So, our meal would consist of mashed potatoes and coleslaw, two things that even in Kentucky probably wouldn’t be confused with fine dining. As the bag of food was presented, we brought it to a table and pulled out the styrofoam containers.
Elizabeth was surprised to find that the potatoes had been pre-gravy’d. Typically, in the US, you can get a side of mashed potatoes without gravy, but after going up to the counter to re-order, I soon found out that was not a possibility in Australia. Because, there might be trace amounts of meat in the gravy, Elizabeth was down to the coleslaw. Unlike the hand-shaved and mixed coleslaw found in the states, the Australian equivalent was a pre-packaged plastic cup with a foil lid. She was not impressed. It appears that the Australian standards for KFC are lower than ours in the United States. And while “the Colonel” made sure to give his blessing to all of the American franchises, the Australians were importing pre-packaged mashed potatoes and coleslaw as if it was the real thing. We probably should’ve gone to Sizzler.
Although completely disappointed with the dining experience, she decided to tough it out and appease my wishes to play through 18 holes. We made our way back to the snack bar of the Putt Putt course and received our putters and golf balls. I informed the teenager working behind the counter of my Putt-Putt experiences from 30 years prior, in which, a hole-in-one was rewarded with a free game coupon and an orange ball. He smiled at my enthusiasm, as I picked up the bright orange ball from the spectrum of colors that were represented in the bucket before us. Elizabeth’s favorite color is purple, so I picked it out special for her.
While the Putt-Putt branded courses in Ohio, which were placed on the sides of highways or on the outskirts of small towns, presented you with a minimal aesthetic of orange rails and green turf, this course had stepped it up. The turf of the course was blue and the rails were a different shade of blue. Instead of a lot with a maze of holes, there were bridges, fountains, and rivers, colorful animals, and pirates painted on the back wall. To keep up with the inconsistent theming, there was a fiberglass dragon and an iron throne from Game of Thrones made out of putters. While charming, it went a little against the purity of the Putt-Putt brand.
When you wipe away the distracting decor, what really contributes to the optimum Putt-Putt experience is the ability to make the ball in the hole in 2 or less shots on every hole. From hole to hole, I noticed that while some of the holes presented hazards that appeared to be added to increase difficulty, a lot of them followed similar designs as the were common in American courses. However, the real difficulty would be overcoming the psychological battle that Elizabeth would fight as she was feeling tired, hungry, and homesick. There were only a few other people on the course with us, so there was little danger in taking our time and really making the best shots possible, but this was becoming a battle of wits that I was not winning.
Elizabeth began playing an aggressive and intentionally sloppy game, which resulted in her hitting one ball so hard that it ended up in a lake, and another that I found in some landscaping. I apologized to the teenager at the counter as I politely asked for another ball. A few times, Elizabeth did a Happy Gilmore-esque wind up, where the ball ricochet off the back rail, roll back to the tee, and she gave it a second slap shot. Her lack of enjoyment in the activity was really throwing me off my game. It was also really making the overall experience, one that I hoped wouldn’t make me associate such an optimistically positive bucket list item, with something that I would regret even doing.
The whole experience of chasing balls and sour conversation, took an activity that could’ve been done relatively quickly with calculated strokes and hole-in-ones, and made it into something that dragged into six sloppy strokes and then moving on to the next hole as quickly as we could. The whole experience was somewhat a nightmarish blur, even though on one hole, I was able to focus enough to get a hole-in-one. At the end of the game, as I was turning in my putter, I noticed that they had Putt-Putt Gold Coast branded golf balls for sale. I picked up an orange one for good measure.
The twelve minute walk back to the train station seemed even longer, than it had been on the way in. We eventually joined other waiting passengers at the end stop of the light rail train. When we arrived back at Cavill Ave. stop, I asked Elizabeth, if she wanted to finish the night off with some ice cream. It told her that there was a Ben and Jerry’s down the street from our hotel. She thought that it was a good idea and we began walking down the street, through the crowds of schoolies. I began to notice that some of the food places had signs that read, “Schoolies Specials” followed by a discount of some sort. Instead of continuing down to the Ben and Jerry’s, we came across a Baskin Robbins/31 Flavors. We picked out a few scoops in cones and checked out. I ask the cashier, if she was having a good night, and she replied by expressing her distain for Schoolies. Oh boy.
It was still fairly early for us to be heading in, but it had been a pretty exhausting evening. We walked back through the lobby and a schoolie commented on my ice cream. “Does that taste like it’s worth $8 to you?” I sort of shrugged my shoulders and knew that Elizabeth seemed to be happier, so it was worth it.
We took the elevator full of schoolies up to our floor and managed to just lay on the bed and watch tv. So much for party central, but sometimes on vacation, you just need to chill a bit and lay on a comfy, white comforter. So far it was the most comfortable bed on our trip and we had laid in some comfortable beds.
We woke up with the sun the next morning, and used our in room coffee maker to make ourselves a few cups to drink on the patio. We wrapped ourselves up in our white, fuzzy robes, and sat looking out at the waves, and felt like the king and queen of Surfer’s Paradise, looking down at the empty streets below.
After we got most of our things together, we thought it might be a good idea to stop at the laundry mat a block over and refreshen our wardrobe. I had only packed about 3 days worth of clothes, so this fourth day was already starting off a little rough. While we put our clothes in, we headed back down to the beach and hung out for a little while.
Our next stop would be O’Reilly’s Rainforest Retreat in Lamington National Park. After we retrieved our laundry, we check out of our hotel, made one last stop at Coles, and headed up into the mountains. It was at this Coles, a little inland from Surfer’s Paradise, that we found a shopping center with what appeared to be 3 fully stocked grocery stores, like nothing I had ever seen before. Like anchor stores in a mall, there was a Coles, a Woolworths, and an Aldi. I had to take a peek into all three, just to see, if there was really a big difference between them. The Aldi seemed the most specialized and minimal, while also clean and chic, which was contrary to the American version of the store. Coles and Woolworths were practically carbon copies of one another and I question how locals would ever choose between the two brands. Which store held the market share? Maybe, they split it 3 ways.