I was standing over Mr NQN trying to organise his joint birthday party with his brother. And like a smaller version of my organisational hero Franck Eggelhoffer I was directing. As usual. I had done my research and I was keen to try a new vegetarian restaurant and I thought it would be perfect to go there for the combined birthday celebration-one where vegetarians, vegans, carnivores and just plain regular people would come.

“SMS your brother that I found a vegetarian restaurant. It will be about $30 a person and should keep the vegetarians and vegans happy as well as the meat eaters as they do all sorts of things with mock meat. It’s also central enough for everyone. Also they don’t mind us bringing a cake” I told him.

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Never smile at a crocodile…pie?

Mocka’s Pies

“It’s cold. I’ve brought my fur coats with me for tonight” Mia says to me and I look at her like she might have taken leave of her senses. To me, it’s a lovely 20 degrees but for the Port Douglasian the weather is best described as arctic. I’m quite lucky I live in Australia where we get a whole lot of natural light and I know that if I lived in Scandinavia I would probably fall victim to SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). So when the sun is shining and the weather is warm I almost feel like I could do anything. And by anything I don’t mean scale mountains of course, this is me, but I mean get up after only a few hours sleep the night before and make my own around Port Douglas.

Port Douglas’s main street is called McCrossin Street and if you’re after a breakfast with a difference you can join locals in having a crocodile pie for breakfast from local institution Mocka’s pies situated just off McCrossin street. It’s so well known that there’s a little street sign pointing people in that direction. If you do go, go early as the pies sell out quickly and we do mean quickly. If you go around 2pm all you’ll find is a couple of pies to choose from.

There are of course the usual suspects to choose from with steak and chicken pies but the signature pie is their crocodile pie. If you’ve never had crocodile before it’s a very mild tasting meat, much like chicken (and I know what a cliche it is saying that it tastes like chicken but it really does!).

I take my pie and a Bundaberg sarsparilla drink (yum!) and sit outside and smile at the little crocodile on the top. I lift the lid and inhale. It all smells wonderful and I cut the pastry with a knife and fork. There’s the crunch of the pastry, as electric as a fizzle and I raise a bite to my mouth. It’s a very good pie indeed the filling mild tasting and creamy like a chicken pie but the texture of the crocodile in the pie is like the dark meat of the chicken with a breast meat flavour if that makes any sense.

Mossman Markets

There’s no time to dawdle today we’re off to Mossman markets. It’s a cute market about 15-20 minutes drive outside of Port Douglas. It’s an outdoors market and there are fruit and vegetables stalls as well as home made goodies and crafts. It’s a bit hippie with a lot of tie dye as well as a bit country and it reminds Winsor of Bellingen markets.

There are all sort of home made goodies and I buy some macadamia, chocolate chip and chilli cookies for my mother (She Who Loves Butter) for a steal at $3 a bag as well as a little onion tart which smells heavenly and is the stallholder’s version of a pissaladiere (although as no meat or fish can be sold she drizzles over some anchovy oil instead).

Pineapple crush $2.50

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Sometimes you need your friends or partners to point out when you are doing something strange. Something that you’ve been doing for most of your adult life and thought was perfectly normal. This occured when Queen Viv and Miss America were in the car with Mr NQN and I. He was driving and I was in charge of the radio as it was a new car for us and we hadn’t brought our music with us.

Frustrated I was switching stations endlessly until I would settle on one that was playing a song that I liked.

“Aha! Here’s one!” I’d say and then when the song was over I’d be off searching for a new song.

“What are you doing?” Miss America asked.

“I’m trying to find a song that I know” I answered pushing the same buttons over and over again.

“You just want to listen to songs that you’ve heard before?” he asked sceptically.

“Well…yes pretty much” I responded weakly

“How curious” Queen Viv said.

Mr NQN piped in “She sometimes plays the same song 10 times over.”

“You’re mental. That is not normal.” said Miss America bluntly.

I plead guilty. On both counts. Of only wanting to hear some familiar to me and also of not knowing that that was not normal.  Several years ago we were at Miss America’s apartment and he put on some songs from the 50s and 60s and he and Queen Viv reminisced. As they grew up in that era they were rhapsodic over these songs and became lost in memories. I do the same with the music I listen to. For me, it’s the chance to quickly go back to a more innocent time before mortgages, jobs and paying bills.

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