True Story : I Wrestled A Gator!*

I'm back! After nearly a month travelling in Florida and the Galapagos Islands I'm back at home, with the dogs and the builders and the dust (I'd forgotten about the dust!). It was a pretty amazing trip - the Galapagos Islands were everything we'd hoped for and more. But before I get into the (relatively) highbrow, nature lovers paradise that was the Galapagos I wanted to tell you that I wrestled an alligator! 

Well...I sort of wrestled an alligator. Okay, I didn't actually wrestle it. At all. Our guide and the step-sons wrangled the gator, I just sat on it (which, on reflection, just sounds a bit weird really…) 

Let's back up a bit. We had to go to Orlando for a convention, and we had a day or two to spare. The accepted thing to do when you go to Orlando is visit the theme parks. But the thought of dealing with all those crowds and queues and the awful theme park food had us slightly terrified. Not to mention the fact that I hate roller coasters. So instead we booked a behind the scenes tour at the wonderfully named Gatorland. 

I'll be honest and say our expectations were lowish going in, but it turned out to be completely, utterly awesome. Our guide was hilarious and passionate and clearly loved the reptilian critters he worked with every day. He regaled us with tales of dog eating gators and croc handling slip ups and rescuing cockatoos from hungry jaws. 

We met a giant tortoise who liked having his neck scratched; a baby gator, a small scorpion and a very big spider; and a family of incredibly rare white gators. We got to do things that felt like they were right on the edge of safe. We stood on a sandy island and threw chunks of meat at a hoard of giant hungry gators; in the middle of a gator infested pond there was just us and two guys with sticks and a bucket of meat. And then we got rather hands on with one especially accommodating fellow. It's not an opportunity to say no to is it? 

Ps. If you go gator wrestling do make sure you wear a more appropriate outfit than I did. Jeans and a tee would have much more suitable than my shortish dress… 

*Sort of

True Story : I Love Election Day

The weekend made me realise I freaking love election day. I mean, I really, really love it (and not just because of the sausage sizzles). I realise I may have just lost half my audience right there, and I also realise the other half that's still with me is rolling their eyes and thinking 'ughhh...I though we'd finally stopped talking about the damn election.' But I'm writing this anyway. You can relax a little - this isn't about the results (if you want to know my feelings on those have a look at my Twitter). No, it's about the day and the process. Actually, it's kind of about politics as a whole. 

Let's back up a bit. I grew up in a very politically aware household. My folks were involved; passionate about issues. There were posters and badges and marches, and late night arguments fuelled by cheap red wine. (Clarification - the adults were drinking the wine and arguing, I was dozing in the background.)

I remember the build up to state and federal elections, the excitement on the day. I remember handing out how to vote cards at our local polling station. That's me down there, barefoot, aged about 6 or 7, and rocking some 80s fashion (I wish I still had that tee!). I remember election nights, done Don's Party style. The gathering of friends, the commiserating and ranting when 'your side' lost. The relief when they won. Politics was kind of our football. I was pretty young, so all of this was a bit in the background, but I remember it. And I think it helped to give me a lifelong interest in politics, and a lifelong love of election day. 

I love the whole ritual of election day. Strolling past the how to vote people and ignoring them all (because I've done my own research, thanks). I love the lining up (no, really!), finding my name, carefully filling out the papers (I voted below the line this year), and, best of all, putting my precious vote in the ballot box. I've always lived in a very safe not-the-person-I'd-vote-for electorate, so you could argue my vote is pointless, meaningless. But...it makes no difference to how I feel about it. I think Leunig summed it up best. (Also, speaking of putting your vote in the ballot box, did you see this? Lovely, yes?). 

And then you have election night itself, featuring the astounding Antony Green, of course. If you're a people watcher like me, then election night coverage delivers the best people watching you could ever hope for. Think about it - these candidates have poured their heart and soul into something they believe in, and now the public has passed judgement. And then - after sleepless nights, a frantic day, and probably a red wine or two too many (we're looking at you Malcolm Turnbull) - they're expected to go on live TV and not cock it all up. It's like a really real, really big, reality TV show. No scripts or 'personalities', just jubilation and brave fronts; flushed faces, fumbles, photobombs; passion and dissapointment. These are people at their most vulnerable, most proud, most heartbroken, perplexed, honest. 

And when it all starts going sour that's when the fun really begins. That's when people start pointing fingers, apportioning blame. It's not election night without a losing candidate having a rant about how their own party screwed it all up. 

And I know that some of you out there are thinking - but I hate politics! Well, firstly, thanks for reading this far, that was unexpected. And secondly, you don't hate politics, I promise. You just don't like certain politicians. 

I'm not going to tell you you should like politics because it's good for you, because it impacts you. No, you should like politics because it's life, amplified. It's Shakespeare and Game of Thrones and America's Next Top Model and that niggle with your mother in law. It also can be, should be, about belief and vision and thoughtful analysis. About good things, noble things, smart things. About making the world a slightly better place. Politics says - I have faith, I believe in this place; I believe it can be better than it is. You may not agree with the how, but surely you'd agree with the why. And how can you not get excited about that?