Thursday, February 9, 2012

Ten and a half travellers do Mooloolaba

I woke up to the Littlest Hobo coughing and crying in her makeshift bed of sun lounger cushions on the floor beside me. In a sleepy daze, I scooped her up in my arms and cuddled her next to me in my bed, and she soon drifted back off to sleep. I started on my journey back to the land of nod too, but somewhere through the sleep-induced fog I managed to piece together the fact that Mr Traveller wasn't in the bed, no light was shining under the door, and the sounds of laughter from the card game down the hall that had formed the background for my night time slumber were nowhere to be heard. I started to drift back off to sleep myself, but then decided I'd better go and investigate. I gently lifted the Littlest Hobo back into her bed, glanced at my watch - 3.10am, and then tiptoed to the door.


I pulled the door open and peered along the dark corridor.

Still nothing.

The apartment was still. In the living room, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law were sound asleep. I turned back towards the bedroom, but on a whim changed my mind and headed up the stairs to the rooftop and the pool area. I peered through the glass out past the still and empty swimming pool into the milky darkness beyond, where I could hear the waves crashing, 16 floors below, but everything else remained stupefyingly calm and still.

I opened the door, walked through it, and just as it was a couple of millimetres from clicking closed behind me, I grabbed a cushion and wedged it in the gap; earlier in the afternoon, before we had first arrived, a couple of our group had been locked on the roof when the door closed behind them and they couldn't open it again from the outside. I was surrounded by eerie silent stillness, and a chill ran down my spine.Not a soul to be seen. I turned on my heal and hotfooted it to the door. Just as I grabbed the handle, I sensed a slight movement barely within my vision over my left shoulder. The handle slipped through my fingers as I heard my name hissed in a hoarse rasp. Oh what had I got myself into?

Then I heard my name again, and the voice was a little clearer and more familiar. My eyes were gradually adjusting to the darkness, and the flapping that had appeared over my shoulder became a knee, and at the end of that knee my husband. 'We're locked out' he exclaimed. 'We're locked on the roof!' I turned to the door and glanced down at the precariously wedged cushion, glad to see that the door was still open.

'What are you doing up here? Are you on your own?' I asked. He repeated that he was locked out, then pointed to the others (our nephew and our niece's husband) lying further along the deck. As Mr. T hobbled to a standing position, ready to wake the two sleeping beauties, he promptly fell back onto the sun lounger, declaring his foot completely unusable (somewhat dramatic given that he was just experiencing pins and needles, having been lying with his other leg resting across the foot). My nephew jumped to his feet as the sweet smell of freedom invaded his dreams.He was visibly shivering and repeatedly informing me that he only had 'this tiny towel' to cover him. The third member of this unlucky and somewhat alcohol fuelled trio was shaken into wakefulness and I could complete my rescue operation without so much as a cross word (much to their surprise!).

The pool was great for building the Littlest Hobo's confidence in the water

Reacquainting with the pool the next day

But the dodgy pool area door had to be the only downside to this apartment. All we knew was that we were being treated to a weekend away by my brother-in-law and family and niece and her husband. On the day, we were told to drive to Mooloolaba and all would be revealed. Once we arrived in Mooloolaba we were directed on the phone into the Mantra apartment block, then we parked the car and headed for the lifts. When we stepped through the door of our holiday apartment, we weren't prepared for the amazing accommodation that was to welcome us. The roof top deck with private pool and spa was the first treat, looking out over the ocean below, and ours to enjoy all weekend.
Loving the pool!

So many remote controls for one room!
The panic button by the bed
Then we headed back downstairs and checked out the movie room, complete with mural painted ceiling and lots of overly technical looking Sony audio equipment. We checked out our bedroom, with a walk in wardrobe the size of another bedroom, speakers dotted the ceiling throughout and a marble-clad en-suite with views along the coast up to Noosa and beyond. I'm guessing this place belongs to someone important, given the panic button that was mounted near the bed.

The mural on the ceiling in the movie room

Our en-suite with views up the coast

We looked around the rest of the apartment then regrouped in the living room. Then we noticed a couple of doors off to the side of the room... the first one was locked. The second one opened, to reveal.... another door! Feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland, we opened the next door to find a large empty room with a hung ceiling, several cut off wires hanging out the walls and ceiling and a large one way mirror on one of the walls. Standing right up against the mirror we could see into the locked room - nothing much to see there, but we were fairly confident that this strange area we had found was a recording studio.

We think it's a recording studio

With all the musical evidence around and the panic button too, plus the sheer opulence of the place, it felt likely that someone famous may own it - I would love to know who! Between flashy penthouses, long-haul upgrades to business class, and the Intercontinental in Singapore, we've been having a jolly old time for long-term travellers the last few weeks. I'm sure we're going to come back down to earth with a thump in a couple of weeks time when we arrive in New Zealand with out budget leading our decisions! Still, I am sure that the wonder of the beautiful area we will be visiting will make up for any home comforts or little luxuries that we suddenly find are missing.

The view from the balcony off our bedroom


  1. Don't worry about hitting with that thump...just will make you want to reach that height again:)