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Being woken by an alarm is rudest when it's unexpected. When it's a fire alarm blaring out on an otherwise lovely early Saturday morning there's no thought to wanting to try and sleep.
As Sabrina, fellow staff member of Inn the Tropics, went off to the offending room to investigate the cause, Paddy and I pressed whatever buttons were needed to silence the blaring alarm.
Sabrina returned quickly enough to reassure the guests who'd spontaneously mustered in the courtyard that an evacuation wasn't required. Only the cheeks of the smoker in Room 21 were flushed.
Now we were up, Paddy and I took on the task of cleaning the kitchen of 'the flat' for the staff that work a few shifts in exchange for accommodation. As part of the tourist industry and especially at this time of year, travellers willing to work like the old Roger Miller song 'King of the Road' where "two hours of pushing broom buys and eight by ten four bit room" are especially transient. In the past week we had farewelled some long-term staff members who are moving on to celebrate Christmas and New Year in other parts of Australia. Our communal living space needed some clearing up and sterilization.
Outside, the sun was blazing yet the heat was kept at bay as the wind tempered the summer heat by blowing from the southeast across the Barrier Reef and the Pacific. Inside, it was time for me to sit at hotel reception from 2pm to 9pm.
Much of my time on the expedition has been spent alone and independent. Now I'm actually receiving mail at a street address and sharing my living space with people milling about at all hours to and from all over Australia and the world It's like flatting again; watching TV with conversations going on around and great cooking smells drifting from the communal kitchen.
I didn't quite act the typical receptionist as I did a few days ago (when I made personal international phone calls (with a discount call card, of course), read magazines, sent emails and trimmed my nails), yet the time slipped by almost uneventfully to the end of my shift. Almost.
A blood-curdling series of screams echoed down the concrete walls scaring and upsetting more than just guests. Brave and capable Matt, just about to start his graveyard 9pm to 7am night duties ran ahead to see what was going on. Jumping up from reception I came upon the scene. A drunken 'domestic' had erupted in a room where the woman was screaming to drive home a point. Order was restored with the ejection of a guest.
The setting was just right to watch a DVD of 'Bowling for Columbine', Michael Moore's latest documentary about "why the American pursuit of happiness is riddled with such massive amounts of violence". Provocative, it's as funny as it is pitiable.
There are so many contrasts to come to terms with now as I prepare to stay in Cairns over the Christmas and New Years period and into 2004 until I can sort out more work. This is as good as any place I can think of to spend the 'holiday period', as part of the hospitality industry there's the 'free' accommodation, free food, free drinks a few nights a week, free tours, free wake up calls
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