The Pilgrimage

There aren’t words.

How can you even begin to describe what it’s like realizing a dream? You can’t. I’ve tried; believe me, in the past twenty four hours I’ve tried my damndest to comprehend a means of conveying to you, or even to myself, what yesterday was truly like. And believe me, as someone who considers herself to be relatively good with words… I’ve hit a wall on this one. But, I’ll try. I owe it to you. After all, having the opportunity to visit the Australia Zoo is the definitive reason why I’m on this continent to begin with.

The events began at 8:oo yesterday morning. Rach woke me up from my top bunk at Brisbane Backpackers, and I donned my pre-planned outfit of “He Changed Our World” Steve Irwin Memorial T-Shirt, brown skirt, green tank top, and orange flippers. We were downstairs by 8:3o, and within ten minutes, our transportation had arrived. Chris (of Croc Connections) was our guide—a gentleman who had worked for the Zoo for about two years before branching off and starting his own Zoo-related business. He knew Steve personally, so when we hopped into his bus (complete with a big picture of Steve and a snake on the side), I made sure to sit up front and drill him with questions. We drove through Brisbane to pick up some more Zoo patrons, and Chris and I went back and forth talking about Steve and the Zoo. He had some new insight for me, such as the fact that Steve didn’t drink because he was crazy enough without any outside stimulants, as well as some other bits of information I’d already known through my years of Croc Hunter devotion. Chris was impressed with my repertoire of Steve knowledge, as well as my awesome shirt and response to his question “So, are you excited for the zoo?,” which was (appropriately), “I’ve waited six years for this day.” Well, it’s true.

After we had a full busload of people, we departed north from Brisbane city towards the Glasshouse Mountains. Chris put on the “Steve’s Story” biography special for the bulk of the ride. I’d seen it already, of course, but it was a nice way to pass the drive. My excitement level jumped from “six year old in a candy store” to “inmate about to leave prison after a thirty year sentence” when we turned on to “Steve Irwin Way,” the road housing the Australia Zoo. My forehead was plastered to the glass as we drove passed signs indicating “10 km to the Australia Zoo” and billboards featuring Bindi and the Zoo’s latest attractions. As we turned into the parking lot at 1o:2o, I couldn’t hold back an ever-growing grin, knowing I was about to experience my hero’s life’s work first hand.

I was in a state of shock when the time came to exit the bus. I remember walking through the main gate, into the zoo, and just feeling numb. I’m relatively sure my mouth was gaping open, and when Janis and Rachel asked me where we should go first, I think I squeaked out some sort of answer about following Chris’s suggestion and heading towards the morning elephant feeding. I had no idea what to expect going into the Zoo. I know I’d seen it more times than I can count on television, but part of the allure was not knowing how everything would look in person. As we stood amidst the ever-growing crowd waiting for the elephants to arrive, I stared around, completely in awe that I was finally at Steve Irwin’s Australia Zoo. The three girls arrived while I was still in my stupor, and the crowd continued to grow in turn. We didn’t get the chance to feed the elephants first-hand because of the mob of Zoo patrons, but with the entrance of Steve’s favorite ellies came the reemergence of my ability to produce any sort of cognitive thought. I suggested to Janis and Rach that we head further into the Zoo to ensure we had good seats for the 11:oo Wildlife Warriors show. So, off we went, further into the depths of the Zoo. After walking past innumerable tempting souvenir opportunities, I turned the corner to find what was arguably Steve’s greatest project at the Zoo—the Crocoseum.

Entering the Crocoseum was like a religious experience for me. I’m completely serious… the emotions I felt walking into the 5,ooo seat arena can only be compared to how devout Catholics must feel when they visit the Vatican, or the sensation that overwhelms Muslims when they finally reach Mecca. Chills ran through my body as I wandered, open-mouthed through the Crocoseum, finally realizing Steve’s dream in person. I sat down just above where the crocs came out and silently watched the various Animal Planet clips playing on the jumbotron, doing my best to take everything in. The show started soon enough, with a silly opening act featuring a dancing gorilla. The two hosts of the show came out next; I was only minorly dismayed to not recognize either of them from television. The first portion of the three-act show featured snakes. They pulled a guy out of the crowd, asked him a few questions, wrapped a snake around him, then simulated a snake bite. They finished off by tossing him in the water, which got a laugh from everyone. Birds were the main feature of the second act. The level of training those birds had was amazing. The Crocoseum, for those who don’t know, is an open arena, structured much like Rome’s Colliseum. The Zoo Crew had the birds flying all around the Crocoseum, perfectly obeying every command. A few flew so close to my face that I felt the wind from their flapping wings. The bird show was all fine and lovely, I promise, but the part that followed was probably the highlight of my completely stunning day: the croc feeding demonstration. When they introduced the morning’s star croc, I was pretty excited to find that I knew him—it was none other than Mean Murry! Seeing the Zoo Crew mimic Steve’s trademark moves, feeding the crocs while teaching the audience messages of conservation was unbelievable. For someone who has followed the Crocodile Hunter for over six years now, it was so redeeming to finally have the opportunity to experience it live in the park he created.

After the show ended, we headed out the back exit to watch Murry return to his enclosure. His neighbors were the likes of Graham and Bindi—true Crocodile Hunter stars. The whole set up was brilliant… I made sure to thoroughly document it thoroughly, check facebook sometime in the next week to see for yourself. At this point, my inner five-year-old took over, and I lost Janis and Rachel in the crowd while trying to catch a glimpse at the behind-the-scenes Crocoseum crew. Following the swell of the post-show crowd, I left the Crocoseum to continue my adventure and exploration. I first came across the Crocodile Hunter Museum, a work in progress. It was chock-a-block full of Steve pictures, newspaper and magazine articles, and memorabilia. They even had a sturdier version of my life-sized cut out of Steve, and a replica Croc Car that visitors could hop in. My initial predictions on my reaction to the Zoo manifested themselves when I came across the memorial area. The long line of khaki shirts signed by friends and fans hanging beside poems, hand-crafted items and pictures was overwhelming. I’d seen it on television, but again, it doesn’t do it justice. I started to cry as I walked through, reading the tributes and coming to the realization that, although I had made it over ten thousand miles, I would never have the opportunity to meet the man himself and thank him for everything he’d done for me and the world. But although his memorial was a pretty prominent aspect of the Zoo, the atmosphere was not at all one of mourning or loss. It was as if he was still alive, still out catching crocs, wrangling snakes, and teaching kids across the world about the importance of conservation. I suppose, in a sense, he still is through the Zoo itself. His legacy will survive as long as the Australia Zoo is up and running. I know that’s how I felt walking through… it was like I was a part of Steve’s life in simply being there. It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

I managed to compose myself after touring the memorial, and embarked on a full-on walk about the Zoo. I saw koalas, cassowaries, dingoes, Tazzy devils, tortoises, wombats (I even got to pet one!), and of course, crocs. The croc enclosures themselves were another completely surreal experience. I can’t count the amount of times I’d seen Steve hop the fence of an enclosure and muck around with Agro, Acco, Charlie, or any of the other crocs. Seeing them first hand was fantastic. I managed to find Janis and Rach again while walking through the venomous snake house. Australia’s top venomous snakes were well-represented, from the incredibly dangerous Fierce to the gorgeous Red-Bellied Black Snake. We headed to the far corner of the park after that, walking through a beautiful rainforest bird enclosure, and stopping along the way to pet a few kangaroos. When we reached “East Asia,” I was reminded why the Australia Zoo is highly regarded as one of the best zoos in the world. The décor surrounding the area was unbelievably ornate, with Hindu statues and enormous fountains in and around the elephant and tiger enclosures. We walked about the wetlands after that, checking out the emus (still scary), swans, and other birds. Having finished that section, we had seen basically everything the Zoo had to offer. So, we spent some more time examining the Croc Hunter Museum in more depth, taking lots of pictures, and hanging out by the big crocs. I contemplated sacrificing myself to Agro, but decided it’s not what Steve would have wanted. That, and I wanted to be able to document this all before any impending apex predator-related death.

At this point, time was beginning to wind down, so I began my quest for the ultimate Australia Zoo souvenir… okay, souvenirS. I started off by getting my picture with Steve at Ayres Rock. Sure, it’s not exactly real par say… but it is completely amazing, and authentic! I can’t wait to go home, frame it, and hang it up next to my autographed picture of Steve from Collision Course. I wandered around a bit more by myself before purchasing anything else, spending a decent amount of time just sitting in the Crocoseum, taking it all in. I couldn’t get enough of it. Being there was truly like being a part of Steve’s dream. I got the chills every time I thought about the fact that I was actually at Steve Irwin’s Australia Zoo, and my late hero had somehow touched everything I was experiencing. Time was truly dwindling at this point, so I made a bee-line back to the gift shop and started my purchasing. I ended up spending about $175 on Australia Zoo apparel, altogether. I say that without any nuance of regret, either, because I know every cent I give to the Zoo goes right back into helping conservation and improving their facilities. My keepsakes range from Crocodile Hunter postcards to a DVD to a mug to patches and a magnet and even an authentic Australia Zoo crocodile, among others. I was already a few minutes late for the bus in insisting on squeezing every last second of Australia Zoo greatness out of my day, but I waited a bit longer to sign the Visitor’s Log. After thanking the Zoo for allowing me to fulfill one of my greatest life’s dreams, I ran outside and grabbed one more quick picture in front of the giant Australia Zoo sign. I jumped back on the idling Croc Connections bus, with two bags of souvenirs, an unshakable smile plastered on my face, and a head full of irreplaceable memories. Chris gave us one last mini-tour of some more behind-the-scenes Zoo things that most people wouldn’t get, and the time came for me to bid adieu to the Australia Zoo. It was a day I’ll never, ever forget.

And now, a day after it’s happened, I’m still riding on the high of my inaugural visit to the Australia Zoo. I cannot emphasize enough how amazing it was to finally pay homage to my hero, and visit the place that he dedicated his life to. In a sense, it was like I was visiting Steve himself. Either way, 25 September 2oo7 will forever go down in the Kirstin Schoeninger Record Books as epic.

I think there’s only one thing left to say… “CROCS RULE!”

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