Saturday
We woke up sad, not ready to leave our little tropical paradise. We went for another long walk, cleaned all our stuff, took advantage of the hotel’s laundry facilities, checked out, took the bus back into Cairns and—we must have had lunch, but I don’t remember it.
I do remember, though, walking around the Cairns Library to see the flying foxes. Thousands of them were in the trees above, screeching and skittering and flexing their webby brown wings with the little claws on the end, and there was even a sad little dead bundle of baby flying fox on the pavement. We were back in time to catch our bus to the airport.
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