Behind the dreamy foreshore with its landscaped pathways and cotton trees lies a very different, but no less real, version of Maroochydore. Not everyone can have a piece of the waterfront, after all. This afternoon, on an errand to find tourist info that would guide me over the last few days of my stay up here, I encountered some of that world. The best way to do this is on foot.
I walked down Memorial Avenue to the RACQ. Mum had telephoned in advance, so when I went to the counter they were expecting me. I got a couple of brochures that I'll look through later on tonight. I left the RACQ and crossed the road, where I bumped into a cart outside the local op-shop filled with books. My search resulted in two purchases:
The Scent of Power, Susan Mitchell (1996)
A Death in Belmont, Sebastian Junger (2006)
What this version of Maroochydore looks like is this (I presume most small towns anywhere in the new world would provide views like it).

After spending my $4, I left the shop and turned east into Aerodrome Road, which is a functional strip of two-lanes-each-way that is lined with dozens of businesses like those shown above. It's not the sort of street that would appear in tourist brochures, let's put it that way. But a town like this couldn't work without its ilk.
On the lookout for the information office, I turned north into Sixth Avenue after about 600 metres. It was, unfortunately, closed, but a little further on is the public library. Outside, what should I see but a table covered with books for sale, with more such treasure-laden furniture inside. I picked up two books for another $4:
The Volcano, Venero Armanno (2001)
The Samson Option, Seymore M. Hersh (1991)
Unlike Aerodrome Road, Sixth Avenue is lined with apartment blocks painted in a rainbow assortment of pastel shades. Here is a typical example.

Beyond these east-facing blocks of apartments lies the beach and the Pacific Ocean.
I went to the dentist today, so tomorrow I will be climbing Mount Coolum.
I walked down Memorial Avenue to the RACQ. Mum had telephoned in advance, so when I went to the counter they were expecting me. I got a couple of brochures that I'll look through later on tonight. I left the RACQ and crossed the road, where I bumped into a cart outside the local op-shop filled with books. My search resulted in two purchases:
The Scent of Power, Susan Mitchell (1996)
A Death in Belmont, Sebastian Junger (2006)
What this version of Maroochydore looks like is this (I presume most small towns anywhere in the new world would provide views like it).

After spending my $4, I left the shop and turned east into Aerodrome Road, which is a functional strip of two-lanes-each-way that is lined with dozens of businesses like those shown above. It's not the sort of street that would appear in tourist brochures, let's put it that way. But a town like this couldn't work without its ilk.
On the lookout for the information office, I turned north into Sixth Avenue after about 600 metres. It was, unfortunately, closed, but a little further on is the public library. Outside, what should I see but a table covered with books for sale, with more such treasure-laden furniture inside. I picked up two books for another $4:
The Volcano, Venero Armanno (2001)
The Samson Option, Seymore M. Hersh (1991)
Unlike Aerodrome Road, Sixth Avenue is lined with apartment blocks painted in a rainbow assortment of pastel shades. Here is a typical example.

Beyond these east-facing blocks of apartments lies the beach and the Pacific Ocean.
I went to the dentist today, so tomorrow I will be climbing Mount Coolum.
3 comments:
That last photo looks like a Jeffrey Smart painting.
oh man!
I need a holiday after that.
Meredith: I love Geoffrey Smart to bits.
Post a Comment