I’d been backpacking for two weeks all up and down the East Coast of Australia. I spent the entire day on a boat going out to the Great Barrier Reef, snorkeling, and then coming back to this little island near the mainland. It was a day in the sun all day long, a lot of physical activity, and no real food. I didn’t really eat the day before because I was too hungover from my last night in Cairns – Australia’s answer to Daytona Beach during Spring Break.
I was knackered on the ride back from the Reef. On the way up I was all over the place. I spent most of the journey on the sun deck with my CDs, watching the boat travel over the endless miles of water. On the way back though, I sat inside and watched the movie they were playing on the television monitors. By the time Meet the Parents was over, we were almost at Magnetic Island, my stop for the night. With this reef deal I booked, I also got three nights on Magnetic Island in a hostel. The whole dive/hostel package was only seventy dollars American. Unbelievable!
Because of my less than filling express lunch, I was starved when I got to the hostel. The island is small, but the one and only grocery store is on the other side of it and it’s too far to go by foot. Most people here hire Mokies, these little supercharged golf carts that you can go off-roading with. The Mokie rental place is closed at this evening hour so they’re not an option. The Mokies are stick anyways and I’ve never driven stick. I guess this is the best place to learn, but not right now.
I walk along the little ten-store boardwalk promenade by the ocean and see an Italian restaurant. I’m starving at this point. The countless meals of macaroni and grilled cheese sandwiches are taking their toll. The special of the day is spaghetti with marinara sauce. That sounds good to me and it looks like it’s about the only vegetarian choice. The food doesn’t come out quick enough and when it does, I’m in horror. I look up at the Specials of the Day sign and reread it. Okay, I didn’t notice that “Seafood Medley” is written in small print under “marinara sauce.” The spaghetti is doused with shrimp, little clams or something and then these things that I don’t even know what. They have tentacles and they look like the creatures that hang out in that seedy cantina bar at the beginning of Star Wars.
I don’t like chicken or beef, but I do like the smell. However I hate everything about seafood, especially if it isn’t fried, especially if it’s in-between my mouth and my only real meal of the week. I scrape all the sauce over to the side and just eat the noodles. The smell is bad enough. I have to concentrate real hard not to gag, or worse. I chew the bite slowly and the only thing I can taste is tentacle. I shower the spaghetti with salt and pepper and try again. It tastes like crap, but at least it doesn’t taste like seafood. I turn my nose off and eat the bites as quickly as possible, washing each bite down with Coke. Normally I’d just not eat the dish, but I’m seriously cramping because of malnutrition. This plate of salt and pepper should help.
I pick at the spaghetti furthest from the mound of sauce but not too close to the bottom where the smelly clam water had collected. As I twirl my fork, I watch the individual pieces of spaghetti getting dragged across the shrimp and over the suction cups of the mystery animal. This is the second time I’ve had to eat around meat on this trip. When we were at the Sail Club in Surfers Paradise, my penne with pesto came with chicken chunks in it. I ate around those with little problem. This, however, is a completely different deal. I eat as much as I can which is just enough to stop the cramps in my stomach. First thing tomorrow I’m finding that damn grocery store and I’m buying three days worth of food. If any of my friends back home could see this, they’d be laughing their asses off.
Signed- Brian Easley
My blog: Straight Guy in the Queer Skies
Tagged as:
food & beverage issues,
menu,
odor
