OZ5: Port Douglas (first bit)

This is the biggest chapter in our story so far, which means I will have to break it down into segments.  We would live in Port Douglas for over 6 months, working our guts out, but enjoying the place.

The view on Four Mile Beach

Life seemed super idyllic when we first moved into the house.  We had air-conditioning if it ever got too hot, we had a pool to cool down in, we had lovely sunshine and we were within a block of the beach.  Not too shabby.

Oh you know, just hanging out poolside in my spare time

Drew was kind enough to let us use his room while he was on vacation, which was very nice of him.  He certainly didn’t have to do that, but it would have cost us at least $40 per night at the backpacker’s hostel in town, and that was just to pitch a tent!  Drew’s room was nothing fancy—very small, no air-conditioning, mattress directly on the floor—but it was really nice to have it as a home-base.

We spent the first few days before I started work enjoying the place and getting to know the town.  There was an extra green bike hanging around the place, so we put Joe on pedals and handlebars and me on the little shelf behind the seat.  It wasn’t exactly comfortable for me, but it was the easiest way to get into town.

We also devoted some hours to really hitting the job-search for Joe.  The first day I followed him around a bit, doing my best to not pressure him, but I think still having a bit too much to say for his taste.  On the second day he was a bit touchier about this and I sat guarding the bike for a while as he walked around unimpeded by my advice.  :)

At one point, Joe came back to where I was and said he had sort of found a job!  It was a strange arrangement, however, and not long-term.  He had been walking around the strip where most of the bars are.  That weekend was the “Melbourne Cup,” which was Australia’s biggest horse-racing tournament, a public holiday, and a chance for every Aussie woman to wear their best hats.  The bars were full of people socializing and “watching” the race, though I am fairly certain not many of them cared that much about the horses.

Anyway, so Joe was walking up and down this strip and a man from inside one of the bars called out to him.  He said, “You look sober; how would you like to drive me and my friends back to my hotel later?”  He then handed Joe a $20 bill as a ‘retainer,’ and asked him to check back in with him later to see if they were ready.  They exchanged phone numbers.

Joe walked away from this confused.  It doesn’t often happen that a drunk person asks you to drive him home in his own rental car, and offering to pay not only a $20 retainer, but then another $100 as promised for taking them home.  He came and told me about this still confused and wondering if it were a scam.

He went back to check on them, but asked that I stay behind in case it was dangerous.  I rolled my eyes at this, but honestly it was very good of him to think of my safety like that.  The guy was ready to go, but his friends were hesitant to join him, which seemed to hurt the guy’s feelings.  Joe said he could drive the guy home anytime he wanted, but that he would have to let me know so I could meet him at home.  The man (his name was Jye) said, “Oh! Bring her with us!”  Joe protested, thinking that there wouldn’t be enough room in the SUV, but drunk Jye knew that it would, so Joe came to get me reluctantly.

Right off the bat it was obvious that Jye was both gay and wealthy.  He opened the back hatch of his rental and shoved the bike in it, without really seeming to care that it scratched the interior a bit.  We all got in and Jye proceeded to talk and talk and talk.  He was a very interesting man, but it was also obvious that he was very self-conscious.  He seemed angry that his friends didn’t want to come back to his hotel, which we think was why he was ready to go so much sooner than Joe had thought—he was hurt.

Jye told us about the seven companies that he was CEO of, his newest surgeon love-interest back in Sydney, and his family and friends.  He also said that we need not worry about being too careful with the car, as it was a rental and he had already broken two things in it and his company would pay for the damage anyway.  What?

As we pulled up to his resort, our mouths dropped.  It was gorgeous—well above the likes of us.  He invited us in, gave us a bottle of wine as a thank you (completely unnecessary because he was already letting us borrow the car and paying us handsomely for the 30 minutes of easy work, but we accepted the wine very gratefully anyway), and showed us the place.  It was very, very nice.  His back patio opened right out into the pool, which was a massive thing that stretched all along the property in between all of the different buildings.  It was impressive.

He thanked us and gave us the money and seemed like he was going to sulk for a while on his own.  He had us take the car for the night and said that we could drive it anywhere we wanted, as long as we brought it back for him the next day.  How strange.

We drove away—in his rental car and as strangers to him—completely perplexed, but it felt like a reminder that good karma is everything in the game of travel.  We try to be good so that we attract good things.  Who knows if it works, but we do feel very lucky sometimes.

A total stranger's car

We had just managed to get our groceries home on bikes earlier that day, so we didn’t need the car for groceries.  We also thought it would be weird if we took it out to see any sights because what if he had reported it to the police or something?  We didn’t even really want to take it around town because the shops were closing and we didn’t really know anybody yet.  We finally had the freedom of a car, but what were we doing with that freedom?  We opened the gate at the house and parked the car inside the gate so it was safe.  We are real adventurous.

Within a couple of days Lizzy the Frenchie moved away to travel with her friends for a few months, leaving us with our own room.  She also offered her bike to me for as long as she was gone, complete with a bike lock and everything.  That was very generous, especially considering I didn’t really know her and she didn’t seem to like talking to me either.  I found it hard to talk to her because she was so quiet.  I’m pretty sure she was high most of the time too, which may have accounted for the quietness.

On our third or fourth day in Port (locals drop the “Douglas” and just say “Port” instead), we were walking around and Joe saw a help-wanted sign on the window of a sushi restaurant.  Bravely and without prompting from me, he straightened up, smoothed his hair, and marched straight into the restaurant.  He came back out five minutes later with a trial period set up to start the next day.  It was super impressive.

The trial period went well and Port Douglas Sushi hired Joe as their only male waiter, but to be fair, they really only had two other waitresses, so it was a small operation.  He was stoked but nervous because there was a lot to learn.  It sounded like the girls at work were a little impatient, but not so bad, which is nice.  Waitresses tend to get catty when someone new starts.  It’s understandable because you often feel like you’re only holding things together by a thread, so if someone new comes along, it frequently means you have to pick up the slack.  Having said that, I also think waitresses should take a chill pill, because they were new and horrible once as well.

Suited up in our silly uniforms

During these first few weeks as well, he continued searching for other jobs, intending to do a set-up like me with a job during the day, and another at night.  While it was difficult for him to find, he did drum up some interest in management at a resort called Paradise Links, who were looking for maintenance and groundskeeper help.  With Joe’s background doing cabin maintenance and lawn-care, he was able to talk himself up.  So they took him on as well for three days per week.

Joe at the sushi restaurant, with Freja behind the counter

Almost immediately the two jobs couldn’t work well in conjunction with one another because the grounds keeping work needed to be on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, which were the days that the other groundskeeper had off each week.  But sushi needed him especially on those days because the weekends were always the busiest.  He was able to get them to work out, however, with a little schedule play.  It ran pretty smoothly.

He stuck with the sushi restaurant for a month or two, and learned a lot there.  Every day was interesting to come home to him, because he would have new stories about how horrible one of the waitresses were.  She was a 17-year-old who was acting as though she were the manager, which made everyone uneasy.  I watched in amusement as Joe got caught up in the little dramas that guys sometimes complain we get caught up in.  It’s nice to know that he’s not impervious to annoying people.

This waitress, Kayla, would act like the boss, move stuff around, plan the work schedules, do stock-take and assert dominance where there was no need to assert it.  She was vying for the assistant manager position that it was rumored the big boss-man was considering filling.  He had already told her that he thought she was too young, but she was putting on authoritarian airs in order to convince him she was old enough.  But on top of all of that, she would try to manipulate everyone else to pit them against one another.  Early on Joe had said, “Listen, Kayla, I won’t get in your way, but you’ve got to realize that I’m not going to be your bitch in the restaurant.”  This shook her up and made Joe a target.  She was having little chats with the other waitress (Freja, a lovely Swede who we became very good friends with), trying to turn her against Joe.  At first people listened to her, but after a while everyone caught on and turned against her.  Joe felt vindicated when he realized everyone was beginning to loathe her.

In the meantime I was getting settled into my jobs pretty well as well.  Both were a little intimidating, as new jobs always are, but I felt like I knew what I was doing in theory, even if I had to learn new things that were property specific, like how to arrange towels or what needed to be asked of the kitchen when taking a special request.

Sometimes I enjoyed work at Ramada

There were a few gems that I got to work with at Ramada.  First was Christian, who was the supervisor I liked the most.  He was very relaxed about our working and would let you get away with a few things if you did the same for him.  At the end of a particularly ugly 7:00 seating rush, he would say he was going for a quick smoke break.  This of course meant a half hour wandering and smoking somewhere between the restaurant and the F&B office.  I didn’t mind because cutting him some slack meant he would do the same for you.  I also really enjoyed Christian because he liked to take us fishing, and was one of the only people who would suggest hanging out outside of work.

My buddy and supervisor, Christian

The fish I caught on one of the fishing trips off the rocky beach.
I turned it into feast, I'd like to think.

The first couple of months at Ramada I also got to work with Dean, a spirited Irishman behind the bar who took zero crap from anyone.  He was super fast and efficient and he was funny and kind as well.  If you screwed up on someone’s order, one word to him and he would make free coffees for the table to make up for the mistake.  Dean would leave after Christmas to go home to Ireland.

At the beginning there was also Heather, a tiny and quirky little Brit who was a total airhead about things.  She would start randomly running around your section, sniping your tables, meaning that you would have to cover hers.  She was so fun and spirited though.  She loved to dance randomly and she was always willing to lend a hand when you needed help.

To replace the hole that Heather left in the quirky department, Oonagh started partway through my tenure and she was very fun to work with.  She was very helpful, but also very solid.  She just took care of things and handled customers like a champ.  There was one night when there were a bunch of firemen staying in the hotel as part of the on-call flood relief crew.  They had come down for drinks and I asked Oonagh if she had met the firemen.  She got all excited and jittery and every time she would walk past their table, she would look at me and giggle, then come over all flushed in the face and say, I do love firemen!  Christian and Oonagh and I had a great time working together.  We thought of ourselves as the dream team.  :)

There was another girl named Sam who started part way through my time there, but she typically only worked one night per week.  She seemed to really like me for some reason (she almost seemed to think I was COOL, bless her little heart).  I invited her over one night when we both had time off and we had a nice talk, but I think I got too nervous about her.  I must have been in a lull where I thought everyone was boring.  I didn’t repeat the experience again, which I regret now.  At the time I felt like all she wanted to talk about was drinking and popularity, but looking back on it later I think I realize that she was maybe just trying to make conversation and win me over, because she was always genuine to me.  I felt bad in the last couple of weeks that I had not explored that friendship more, because she was actually really nice.

There were also a couple of lesbian bartenders, Lindsay and Alex.  Not lesbian together mind you.  Lindsay had a slightly overweight, loud, and quite obnoxious-when-drunk girlfriend.  And her girlfriend seemed to be drunk a lot.  It was a weird pairing because by herself Lindsay was sweet and soft-spoken (but for the one time she lashed out at Christian for fairly good reason).  This loud girlfriend seemed to overpower Lindsay’s charm.  Then again, I am an introvert and Joe is an extrovert.  I suppose it’s a thing.

Alex was tall and pretty and started in the last couple of months of my being at Ramada.  She found out early on how much I liked maraschino cherries and she kept a glass full of them hidden near the place we picked up drink orders, just so I could have one here and there.  Her girlfriend was VERY attractive and worked at the bar downtown called Rattle & Hum, where the uniform was short shorts and low-cut tank-tops.  The biggest struggle in their relationship was that her girlfriend was too hot and got hit on all the time by guys at work.  Funny that they were barking up the wildly wrong tree.

There was also the other Emily, who started in the last couple months of my working there and she was VERY good at waitressing, or so we felt after having had a string of really quite awful ones come through.  She was amazing with customers and frequently would wish them at the end of the night to have a great wedding or to have fun seeing their grandchildren.  It was something to aspire to, building that good of a relationship in such a short time.  And while this quality was really great many times, in our busiest hours it was so awful we could have killed her.  There was a night where Emily was locked in conversation with one of her tables for like a half hour, right in the middle of the 7:00 rush.  We were flat out trying to cover our own sections, but then we were expected to pick up her slack too!  Then, minutes after she finally got back to work, Tjaart went and did the same thing.  I nearly cried in frustration.  Emily was so personable with her tables, but often at the wrong times.  It made for very difficult work.

In the kitchen I had a good friend in Laura, the Argentinian.  She was fun to work for because she didn’t take her job too seriously like almost every other chef I have ever encountered.  I looked forward to nights working with her and the other female chef because everything just ran so much smoother.  She didn’t yell at us for mistakes and she had the same weird sense of humor I do.  It was really sad when she left.

I was on Laura’s case about one day making me a super special chili crab linguine from the menu and she promised she would.  One of her last days Joe and I went in and made sure to tell Christian that Laura needed to know the linguine was for me so that she could make it special.  In the end of course it came out not looking unlike all the other chili crab linguines that I have served to customers.  When we talked to her later, she immediately apologized.  Since the night had been so busy (when we arrived I asked Christian if we should come back on a less busy night because it looked crazy in there), she had lost track of my chili crab linguine and sent it out to someone else.  So a customer that night got a linguine with extra crab and butter and lots of love.  I was sad, but tried not to show it too much.

There were the occasional bad customers, who almost always made me cry.  Locals were the worst; they felt like they deserved the world.  There were a couple of times where “Grin and bear it,” were the modus operandum while shit was hitting the fan.

Luckily there were also the great customers.  There were a lot of customers that were just sort of there and didn’t cause me any harm and were nice enough, but there seemed to be more great customers than bad ones.  There was the occasional stink-bomb, but usually they were outnumbered.

More to come!  Thanks for reading!