Run

Ah, the bliss of an actual bed! We awoke refreshed and happy to be horizontal and not propped up in a seat near a screaming infant. We grabbed our stuff, checked-out of the hotel and wandered into town for breakfast. After fruit smoothies and a shopping diversion (I could not help myself. Things were literally leaping out of shops at me, it would have been dangerous to ignore that sort of behaviour from inanimous objects), we bought monorail tickets with the intent of swooping about the first floor level of the city, sightseeing as we went in a fantastic two-birds-one-stone manaeovre.
However, we instantly became absorbed into Darling Harbour. Bizarrely, having written off the National Maritime Museum as unworthy of our illustrious presences, we were humbled into buying tickets for the immensely exciting opportunity to scramble, aft and fore, over a tallship, the exact replica in fact of the Endeavor - the ship Capt. Cook arrived in both Oz and Nz in for the first time! After some quality time pretending to be a pirate (to great acclaim from other watching tourists) and harrassing the volunteer guides with question after question, we moved onto the HMAS Vampire, an Australian Naval ship. We played around the gundecks and the engine rooms and thouroughly explored the many rooms, emerging finally feeling hungry. We hunted out a food court (our new skill, we can find one anywhere. Why, oh why, does England not believe in the magic of the food court?) had sandwiches on the steps overlooking the Harbour ships and a floating model of a seadragon. This is turn led us to the Maritime Museum proper, which was hosting a 'Mythical Creatures' exhibition for free and that sucked us inside with nary a say. Before long we were posing with giant dragons and watching mini movies about the making of mythical creatures in 3D. We saw fake mermaids, heard legends about unicorns and were just admiring a giant golden griffin when...eeek! The time!
We had completely lost track of the time. We had exactly 40 minutes until our train left - and we had to catch the one-way moving monorail on the rest of our planned tour of the city, walk sharpish back to the hotel, get our lugguage, trump off down to the station, check-in the bags and board the train!
We hopped on the monorail, stuffed ourselves into the crowded compartment and gazed out of the windows in an effort to see the remaining precincts of the city and also to stem the flow of rising panic. We swooped above Chinatown, with green tiled bamboo-style roofs and calligraphic signs. We moved on through the Haymarket, passing intricate and ornate Victorian era windows and curlicues on the sides of the buildings. As we arrived back in the City Centre, we flew off the platform and zoomed through to the other side of the precinct to our hotel like birds with their tails on fire. We grabbed our lugguge, and with 20 minutes until our train left, caved and ordered a taxi. This time, we were not swindled by the driver, partly because we obviously had that harried, city-liver vibe and partly because Alex maintained a constant glare at him through the passenger window, which probably unnerved the poor guy into wanting to get rid of us as fast as possible. At the station, we located our platform in super-quick time and boarded the train (no time left to check the bags, they would have to ocme with us!)
Phew! We made it! With the bags safely stowed in overhead compartments, we were ready to embark. The beginning few hours of the journey were in light and Alex actually sighted a kangaroo from the window. We admired the beautful scenery, lagoons surrounded by rich mangrove and eucalyptus forest, with houses snuggled into the roots near the water (obviously the locals are not as petrified of crocadiles as I am). As it grew dark, the hyperactive Italian kids sitting in front of us went almost ballistic with surpressed energy and grew louder and louder. Grr. Finally, they were smothered in sleeping bags and after the initial excitment wore off (two hours later) they passed out. To Alex's great amusement, I made good on my promise from the previous train and crawled down into the footwell with the full intention of sleeping on the floor. This I did, reasonably successfully for a good few hours, but eventually the jarring floor started to cause me pain, and the enforced curled up position was no longer comfy - so we swapped. It obviously proved more comfy for Alex, as when the lights came on at 5am this morning, and the announcement came over the PA that we were coming into the station, I could not wake him up at all. I was starting to have visions of having to ask for assitance to drag him off the train when he finally awoke and we disembarked, off to find my Uncle Richard in the rabbit warren of Roma St. station, Brisbane.