The embassy of animals

I'm usually not a fan of zoos - I'll say it straight up. In fact I can't even remember the last time I went to a zoo. (Probably in Canberra.) But, having thought about it with my ex-pat goggles on, I decided that if you thought about it hard enough a zoo could be seen to be the embassy of the animals. And maybe if the general public see and know animals, they're less likely to want to harm them.

OK, enough rationalising. I want to say I won't rave on about the architecture (even though I was struck by the very sturdy building which housed the penguins and other lives aquatic), but there was something about the feel of the place that made the adult in me feel nostalgic.

You see, my memories of being a child in the 1970s are occasionally back-lit by some of Canberra's then-'new' buildings like the National Gallery and the High Court - great thundering pieces of modernist architecture replete with yawning walls of concrete and shades of Frank Lloyd-Wright-ish-ness. (And brown.)

So it was a little disconcerting to be so very distracted by the building as we followed the children up and down wide atrium walk-ways and stair-ways, to a background screeching of monkeys and finches, and an unbelievably designer-looking collection of frogs.

Never mind the occasional zoo attendant with swarms of children 'patting' an orange snake. Yes, the Aussie Hausfrau in me was cringing: I guess I've always taught the children to steer well clear of snakes and spiders - a fundamental lesson which I doubt would cross our Dear Local Neighbours' minds. (Maybe they're more occupied with stories of bears and wolves.)

Even more surreal was the Zürich Masoala Rainforest. We had a bit of a walk to get there - the zoo is 'zoned', and we had to go through 'Africa', past an African-themed playground, past (read: on) a big slide, and into 'Madagascar'. (Note Swiss House behind African Hut in photo.)

The Zürich Masoala is inside a huge 'greenhouse' of sorts, and I confess it was more than strange: it was completely bizarre. We had to strip off puffy jackets and jumpers in order to cope with the 22-degree humidity after the 4-degree outside temperature.

DH and I of course gazed into each others' eyes across the chameleons and busy German chatter, wistfully mouthed, 'Queensland,' simultaneously, and made an instant pact to get to the Daintree Rainforest one day when we get back to Oz.

As we plunged back into the near-zero late afternoon, we realised of course that there had been one thing happily missing from the rainforest: mosquitoes.

So to celebrate we went to get some dinner at our favourite vegetarian restaurant in the city.

(Where DS flopped sideways on his stool with exhaustion and, despite lentils and cous-cous and other international yumminess, refused everything but a hot chocolate.)