Australia Zoo – Where a Quiet Yank Found His Roar (and Got Free Local Intel)

Today it’s just Westonka High.

Back then, same hallways, same science class.

Teacher wheeled in the TV cart, popped in the Crocodile Hunter VHS.

Steve Irwin dove into the river, wrestled a croc, grinned like the world was his playground.

Eleven-year-old me—shy, quiet, the kid no one noticed—sat up straight.

In my heart, I knew:

If I ever get to Australia, first stop is Australia Zoo.

Steve’s gone now, but the promise didn’t die.

Years later, I boarded The Canadian—VIA Rail’s legendary 4-night, 3,000-mile train from Toronto to Vancouver.

Glass-dome lounge cars, endless prairies, mountain views that make you forget your name.

Parents did their own thing in the sleeper.

I snuck back to the lounge car, coffee in hand.

There, two lovely Aussie couples—Cliff from near Brisbane and Bruce from near Sydney.

They were touring Canada, I was heading their way.

We swapped stories.

Cliff said, “When you get there, go get a meat pie and a vanilla slice. Trust me.”

Bruce nodded: “Hold the python. Don’t think twice.”

Sunday in Brisbane: streets quiet, everything closed.

I hunted down one open bakery.

Pie.

Slice.

Heaven.

Then rode the Ferris wheel downtown—pure joy.

Monday: my plan.

Train from Brisbane to Beerwah.

Got off at the station.

Walked the 2 kilometers up Steve Irwin Way to the zoo.

Shoulder of the road, heart pounding, but excited like a kid again.

They saw me coming, sweaty and grinning.

“Dude, you should have called—we would’ve picked you up!”

I laughed: “I was too excited. I’ve been waiting since science class.”

Platinum Zoo Adventure.

Full day, 9am to 5pm.

Dedicated guide—Jules, originally from England, her accent still soft with home.

You could hear it in every word.

She brought me into every exhibit, personal caddie, no crowds.

VIP all the way.

We started with the Crocoseum—the world-famous arena Steve Irwin built himself, the same building that launched his legend with the Krakatoa volcano show.

VIP reserved seats for the Wildlife Warriors Show—pure energy, conservation message hitting hard.

Then the encounters:

• Private Animal Extravaganza—animals brought right to me.

• Held an echidna—spiky, curious, like holding a living hedgehog.

• Fed a giraffe—those long lashes, gentle tongue, surreal.

• Pet a huge tortoise—slow, ancient, grounding.

• Held a koala—docile, soft, eucalyptus breath, eyes half-closed like it was high and happy. Seeing one up close for the first time? Moving. They sleep 18–22 hours, eat leaves that make them mellow.

• Python—wrapped around me, cool and calm.

• Fed kangaroos—hops, eyes, pure joy.

• Pet a rhino—thick skin, quiet power.

Jules made it feel personal.

No rush.

Just us and the animals.

Lunch at Warrior Restaurant and Bar.

I ordered the burger when I walked in—thought I’d nailed the entree.

Then they asked what I wanted for my entree.

I froze: “Wait, I already ordered it?”

They laughed: “In Australia, entree means appetizer—like starter. Your main’s the burger.”

Classic culture flip.

I laughed too.

Ended with VIP tour of the Wildlife Hospital—conservation in action.

Photography package captured every moment.

VIP gift pack at the close.

But I didn’t leave it at Beerwah.

I chased every inch of you—coast to coast to coast.

Perth poured pink into the Indian Ocean.

Darwin rained sideways like it was glad I came.

Alice Springs burned red under my soles.

Adelaide let me sip the hills.

Melbourne whispered “stay.”

Brisbane laughed first.

Sydney said last.

One month.

When the plane lifted off I didn’t wave—

I cried.

Not homesick.

Australia-sick.

And the song that played while I walked those miles—

that song still feels like home.

Even now, even here, I hear it in the wind.

So if you’re out there—

reading this—

the one who’s quiet,

who’s kept a promise to a kid who was too small—

know this:

Travel cracks you open.

And I’m still open.

Tuesday’s still open.

And somewhere in this wide world,

the next heartbeat

is already walking. 🇦🇺🇺🇸