ITALIAN INVASION... “ON A LIGHTER NOTE”...Pre-.PREQUEL

 

All Aboard the "Reef Venture" Happy guests and staff...

Me Acting the Clown at a Tourism Event

Hinchinbrook Poolside Fun with Skipper Bob in the middle!

Me relaxing at the resort bar after bidding the "Reef Venture" goodbye for the day!

Beautiful Ruska and me at my little abode at Cape Richards Resort on Hinchinbrook Island

Kewarra Beach Resort

Kewarra Beach Resort

Pool at Kewarra Beach Resort

 

A Cabin at the Resort

Kewarra Beach in all its natural glory

The Grumman Mallard settling on the waters of Missionary Bay, Hinchinbrook Island

After Andrea, to my surprise, had set foot on the island, he joined the other new arrivals at the poolside table to enjoy a refreshing drink while they listened to my “greet and meet” introduction to the resort and all it had to offer – things to be wary of etc.  The "greet and meet" was something I did each time newcomers came to the island to holiday...those who arrived by boat or seaplane.  Questions were asked and answered...it was always a relaxed introduction to the resort.

While I was socialising with the new guests, members of my staff deposited the guests’ luggage into their respective cabins.  When the guests were ready to venture forth, a staff member, or two, would escort them to their holiday abodes.  They were then left to their own devices, and I, to mine...to get on with the rest of my job of managing the resort.

Wasting no more time, Andrea headed off to spend his day investigating every inch – every nook and cranny - of the area surrounding the resort, and nearby secluded, uninhabited beaches.  He was like a kid in a candy store.

Dinner out on the deck that first evening...Saturday night...was high-spirited, to say the least.

As I did every evening, I mingled among my dinner guests...going from table to table, chatting, laughing, making sure all was well, being the hostess, which was something I very much enjoyed being.

After spending time with my dinner guests, some of whom were seated around tables in the restaurant’s interior, and the balance at tables outside around the resort’s swimming pool, I joined Jan, her husband and Andrea at one of the outdoor tables, to dine with them under the stars.

Andrea aka Andrew’s was awed by the expanse of the island’s beaches: also by the lack of bodies on those beaches...live bodies, that is...there were no dead ones, either.

Being used to the over-crowded beaches in Italy where neck-to-neck, toes to head beach-goers packed onto the sand, leaving not a spare inch, what Andrew had experienced during his first day on Hinchinbrook Island was foreign to him in every way.  Everything was new and thrilling to him.  Immediately, the beauty of the surrounds, the solitude; the peaceful sense of freedom of having a beach and the ocean to himself alone gripped him.  Without putting up a fight, he fell under the island’s spell.

He could barely contain his excitement.  Actually, he didn’t succeed in containing it.  Free spirits in their own right, his sparkling, dancing brown eyes unashamedly revealed his feelings.  Andrea’s enthusiasm was contagious.  It was intoxicating. When someone displays honest, unbridled emotions like he did during his first evening on the island, it’s difficult not to succumb to their fervour.  Their exuberance makes you take a look around through their eyes, causing you to come to the realisation, to an extent... no matter how small...unconsciously, not purposely, you’ve been taking some things for granted.

Not wearied by his energetic, adventure-filled day, Andrea stayed on long after Jan and her husband retired to their cabin.  We sat and talked well into the night...into the early hours of the following morning...under the stars, serenaded by the sound of the ocean gently lapping the shore below on Orchid Beach.

The attraction between us couldn’t be denied.   I had no desire to deny it, nor did he. 

Though a million years younger than me, any concern about an age gap was soon cast to the wayside to be considered at another time!  Who cared?  Definitely not me, nor did it worry Andrea.  I was a “free agent”, as was he.  We were doing no harm to anyone else.  In fact, it was no one else’s business.

I could very well have been the first ever “cougar”!  Eat your heart out, Demi Moore...we might share the same birth date (not the same year)...but I beat you on the cougar score!

As planned, Jan and her husband left the island on the Sunday afternoon around 4 pm.  They disembarked from the “Reef Venture” at the Cardwell jetty.  From there they drove back to Cairns, 182ks north.

Andrea chose to remain behind on the island, having asked me if he could extend his visit.  I wasn’t displeased by his request...by his decision.  Of course, I said, "Yes!" Our relationship intensified. 

Another thing in his favour was...he loved cats. Immediately, he'd befriended and fell in love with my ginger cat, "Ruska".

During the following week I needed to attend a pre-planned tourism conference at the beachside Kewarra Beach Resort, 200kms north of Cardwell.  Kewarra Beach is a northern beach suburb of Cairns. It is 20ks north of Cairns.

My car, a Cortina Ghia, was stored in the Cardwell booking office’s garage when not required by me.  The booking office, as I’ve previously mentioned, was run by husband and wife team....Bob and Bonnie.  Bob was the skipper of the “Reef Venture”.  No vehicles were required on the island.  There were/are no roads. It was and still is a wild, natural wilderness.  The resort did have one well-worn Toyota ute (utility) that rumbled up the track to the cabins.  It was used to carry guests' luggage, provisions, gas bottles etc., along the jetty, up to the main area, cabins, and to the generator-work shed.

I asked Andrea to accompany me to Kewarra Beach.  

We couldn’t lose sight of the fact he was visiting Australia as a representative of his father’s tour operator business.  Beppe, himself, was a well-travelled man, having visited many corners of the world.  Before Andrea became an employee of his father, the condition was he would learn to speak English.  Beppe sent his son to London, to live there for a while, primarily to learn to speak, and understand the English language. 

Following his London educational sojourn, Andrea was placed on his father’s payroll. 

Shortly thereafter, he was dispatched to distant shores to learn as much as he could about Australia, and Tropical North Queensland , in particular, which was an area considered to be a huge drawcard for Italian tourists.  

Therefore, not everything was fun and games.  And, of course, I still had a resort to manage; staff to guide, and guests to please.

  

When on and off the island, Andrea was a sponge, eager to learn as much as he could about tourism, and the area of Australia that had him under its spell.  

While I attended the conference during the daylight hours, Andrea roamed freely as he explored Kewarra Beach and its surrounding areas. At night he was my partner at the various dinners shared with the conference participants. An interested party, he listened intently to the conversations – asking pertinent questions where and when necessary.  Others immediately took to him. His personality was bright, cheerful, and intelligent. It was fun to be in his company.

After the two-day conference at Kewarra Beach ended, Andrea and I continued further north to Palm Cove.  Not once did he ask...”Are we there yet?”  Enthralled by everything he saw, I had a captive audience at my side.

We booked into a small beachfront resort/motel in Palm Cove. There we spent a couple of idyllic days, relishing blue skies, sand, the ocean, moonlit nights. During one of the days, we broke our tranquility, and travelled a little further north again...to Port Douglas...43kms north.

However, all good things must come to an end...and for our “good thing”...that time had arrived.

It was an emotional farewell at Cairns Airport when Andrea boarded a Qantas jet to fly him south to link to his flight to Italy. Tears were shed...not only by me. Promises were made to return to Australia as soon as it was possible for him to do so.  After a lonely, sad, solo trip back to Cardwell, I returned to my life on the island. 

Promises are often made that one feels will never be fulfilled. In this instance, I forced myself to face the reality of the situation.  Andrea and I had shared a vignette in time...in life...an unexpected, pleasant, passionate interlude.  I refused to let my heart expect more.

Watching him pass through the exit door onto the tarmac of the Cairns airport, I wiped away my tears, telling myself, “That’s that! I’ve had my ‘Italian Love Affair’…and it had been wonderful. It will be embedded in my mind and heart forever.” Another chapter in my life had come to an end.

For a fortnight, the world had stopped for Andrew and me. We’d become so engrossed in each other most of the outside world...outside our private section of it, anyway...had fallen into oblivion.  Nothing else existed. No one else existed except the two of us. 

As I watched, through tear-filled (overflowing) eyes, the jet soar aloft, and then turn southward, I felt a full stop, not a comma, had arrived at the end of a sentence...of a paragraph in my life’s story.

It was time to store in my mind’s vault, the stolen moments, the fun we’d shared...it was time to face the world once more.  Life goes on...as does one’s responsibility to one’s job!

The images of Andrew’s flashing eyes, his mischievous smile, his lithe, brown body and his lively personality continued to tease and taunt me. Together we had fitted like fingers into finely-crafted gloves. I missed his conversation, his joyful innocence when confronted by the wonderment of his new surroundings.

Through his eyes, I learned to look around me and see anew.  Our time spent together had been exciting...exhilarating...passionate, in all forms of the word.  I missed him. I missed him terribly, but I buried myself in work; and there was much to do, as always.  

It was fruitless pining for him, I told myself. We would never meet again.  For me to think otherwise would be living in a fantasy world.

I must point out, too...this all occurred in 1986, a long time before personal computers and the easy availability of the internet existed in my life...personal and business.  On the island I still used an old two-way radio system to be in contact with the boat operators and seaplane operators.

Andrea telephoned me immediately upon his return home to Italy.  To my surprise, and thorough joy...he continued to do so every couple of days.  Via telephone, Andrea even introduced me to his father, Beppe.  Without missing a beat, Beppe and I talked like we were old friends.  He was a most pleasant man.

Four weeks had transpired since Andrea’s departure from Australia when, one busy morning I reached for the ringing telephone in my island office. Andrea’s lyrical, cheerful voice greeted me. My heart leapt.  A broad smile creased my face as was the uncontrollable habit each time I heard his voice.

As I listened to his words coming through the phone, I was speechless. He was returning to Australia…to me! Was I still sleeping? Was this a dream?

To be continued...

***Andrea and I chatted at length two nights ago. Out of the blue, he contacted me to let me know Beppe (Guiseppe), his father had passed away a couple of weeks ago.  Oddly, I’d been thinking a lot about Beppe, for whatever reason, over the past few days....