Jarrod would you parade there? Phillip Island and the penguins!

Once again, Jarrod, I kick off by saying that I have been to this place once before, many, many years ago  a few short years ago, as a high school student. At that time, the Phillip Island Penguin Parade wasn’t the huge song and dance attraction that it is now. I vaguely remember that we sat on blankets on the beach, but beyond that my recollections are sketchy, and I fear I can’t tell where my actual memories end and my nightmares about the evil penguin from Wallace And Gromit begin…

Chills. Actual chills.

People warned me that the penguin parade had sadly become ‘too massive’ and ‘really touristy’ but nonetheless I packed an overnight bag with wildly insufficient clothing for sitting on a beach, at night, in winter, and drove the trusty red Barina down to the coast. Being the navigationally impaired individual I am, I painstakingly typed my destination into Google Maps before departing. Truly, the navigation lady on Google maps could have said at this point ‘sweetheart really, there’s no point chewing up your phone battery, the signage to the island is literally idiot proof. Turn off the nav. Unless you want to just chat and kill the time?’

A little over an hour and twenty minutes later, I arrived at  my first destination: the Maru Animal Park which is about 15 minutes before you get to Phillip Island. I had two items on my agenda: 1) pat a koala and 2) cuddle a little joey. The park runs similarly to the Ballarat Wildlife Park, which I visited a few years ago with my English friend Immy. They have containers of food for you to buy and you can get up and close to all sorts of animals including kangaroos that will eat out of your hand (perfect ‘evidence’ to have on your iphone when dealing with Americans who believe we ALL have a Roo in our backyards…), and emus who frankly look like they will gouge the very flesh out of your hands…and leave the food.

I’m telling the next person from overseas who asks that yes, this is my kangaroo, I call him ‘Leapy’

They also have a rare albino kangaroo there (bless). They don’t usually survive too long in the wild because of their poor eyesight and propensity to sunburn. I hovered near it for a bit murmuring “I know, little buddy…” and showed it my tube of Clinique City Block SPF 30+. And while it didn’t acknowledge me AT ALL I think it knew there was a kindred spirit nearby.

*high pitched mewing noises*

But back to the agenda items. It was soon time to meet Diesl, the male koala (ahem, and the STUD of the park ohmygodIhopehethinksI’mcool!) He was brought out and assumed the position in a small tree, at which point the Rangers dutifully plied him with sweet eucalyptus tips to maximise cooperation.

LOOK AT HIM – JUST LOOK AT HIM, NO REALLY, LOOK AT HIM!!!!

The close up koala experience costs $20 and they take your photo on the ‘official camera’ but the Rangers there are also really good about taking pictures on your own cameras and iphones for you. (Even if it does mean some tourists are trying the patience of everybody else in line… It’s not America’s Next Top Model, people, move it along! No you DON’T need another shot with your hip cocked inwards, we can’t even see your damn legs the photos are waist up!)

Agenda Item One: Tick.

Then it was onto the adorable little wallaby joey. Oh. My. Sweet. Lord. I had brought with me a decent sized leather tote , but sadly I’d failed to bring along a partner in crime for vital purpose of creating a diversion so I could smuggle that little bundle out of there.

I didn’t have time for a baby shower, guys, so just gift vouchers from Gorman will be fine. Really.

Back to the vehicle, another fifteen minutes drive and I was on The Island and checking into the YHA, quick late lunch then  fifteen minutes drive to the far end of the island in readiness for the Penguin Parade. Oh. My. They’d warned me it was massive industry now and it turns out they weren’t exaggerating nearly enough.

I’m torn here, because the park is a not for profit organisation, and every $ that is spent there is put back into preservation of the species. And you can’t begrudge people wanting to go and see it… but I did find myself wishing that it could be on a smaller scale and more low key, even if that meant more was charged per person. Because when you cram hundreds of people into stadium seating for something like this, well, the sad truth is that you can’t weed out the inconsiderate dickheads effectively enough.

Intimate gathering of a couple of hundred.

The seated area opens about an hour before the penguins make their way into shore, and the Rangers were EXCEPTIONALLY generous, letting people taking photos of the sunset and one another while we all waited. It distracted you from the freezing cold quite nicely and stopped your hands from seizing. But they explained at length, IN MULTIPLE LANGUAGES that the penguins coming in from diving all day will be exhausted, barely able to make it up the sand in some cases, and that they have very sensitive eyes which they need for diving, and the flash from cameras hurts their eyes and frightens them so strictly NO photography. None.

Did I mention that this was delivered in multiple languages?

The park also has a free app that you can download with gallery photos to use willy nilly. My pictures here on the blog are from that site because I am nothing if not obedient.

Penguin Tracks. In case you ever need to frame a penguin for a crime.

Interestingly, this time of the year is apparently ‘practice mating season’ for penguins, and when they come up to the burrow area they’ll practice their flirting behaviour with the opposite sex. Which involves, but is thankfully not limited to singing.

I stayed in the seating area for about half an hour watching the little things come bodysurfing in and a) scuttle straight up the sand, or b) fail to get their footing quickly enough and get washed back out to sea to start all over again. After that, the cold got the better of me so I made my way onto the boardwalk, from where you can see the penguins at close range, walking alongside the human gangplanks and doing their practice flirting outside their burrows. (I may have imagined it, but I swear one of the penguins engaged in some opposite sex banter gave me a withering look that said “do you MIND? I’m trying to lay some groundwork here!”)

Peak hour on the sand

I like to think that the penguins are doing their darnedest to channel Reservoir Dogs as they meander up the sand, being in little black suits with white shirts and all. Sadly they’re so knackered that the effect is more ‘marathon runner who’s losing control of their limbs and slowly collapsing from that muscle melting disease as they cross the finish line.’ They are staggering. Adorably staggering.

All wishing it was socially appropriate to ask one of the others for a piggy back.

Unfortunately, the aforementioned dickheads simply can’t cope with not taking photos to mark an experience. What–LOOK AT IT WITH MY OWN EYES AND REMEMBER IT??

I hope the penguins understand that, sure, while they need their eyesight for like, survival and all, these twats have an Instagram feed that isn’t going to populate itself!!!! Sigh. Look, I did what I could with scathing put downs and narrowed eyes but it’s not enough. I’d be in full support of a motion to arm Rangers with the right to eye gouge offenders.

Before you leave they ask you to check under your car to make sure penguins haven’t wandered underneath. I’m not sure I see the point, Jarrod. I mean, I’ve seen Cape Fear. I know that if a tattooed ex con penguin is going to conceal himself under your vehicle for the ride back to Melbourne Max Cady style, you won’t know he’s there…

An evil penguin could totally do this.

Checked out the Penguin app over some restorative fish and chips back in San Remo and realised that one poor penguin hasn’t yet twigged that the teddy bear in the corner of his burrow has a blinking red eye. That’s right. Burrow cam. Mildly disturbing and not sure how ‘practice’ the practice flirting is tbh…

Thankfully no sound feed. Because I heard the singing and that was bad enough.

I’ve more to tell you about Phillip Island but that will have to wait for another blog entry because this one is already a behemoth edition! So, Maru Park and the Penguin Parade: Jarrod, would you go there?