I know yesterday’s blog was about spew, but today really has to be about poo, because we went to see MONA. And what would MONA be without the “Cloaca”?
For followers blissfully unaware of the Cloaca, it’s an art exhibit that replicates the digestive system. Museum staff “feed” it steak and veggies in the morning and it “poos” at 2pm every afternoon.
The kids were very excited to see the poo exhibit. It was number one on their list of Hobart must-sees.
Geez it was stinky. My stomach was doing little flip-flops during the 10 minutes we were forced to wait in close proximity to ensure a premium view of the big moment.
The youngest was very disappointed by the Cloaca’s final output. Her verdict to Nonna on her return to the ship: Not like poo at all. I must admit, the texture WAS a tad on the grainy side …
Pop accidentally saw MONA. He wasn’t keen, despite one of his Jazz buddies having cackled to him about the famous vagina wall: heaps of plaster casts of lady parts on prominent display.
But I’m the girl-with-a-mission type so, after hauling our butts to the Tasmania Devil animal reserve (nawww the five little tawny frogmouths huddled together on a branch were sooooo cute … And don’t get me started on the baby wombats) I power walked us straight to the MONA ferry wharf before he had a chance to process where he was going and booked tickets on the boat.
Pop really would have preferred a spot of mini golf on the Radiance of the Seas to staring at a bowl with two live goldfish and a giant carving knife in it … But he gritted his teeth and went with it.
The eldest, on the other hand, was mortified by the vagina display and insisted on being led through it with her eyes shut.
Me? I was FASCINATED by all the vajayjays. I could have spent waaaaay longer marvelling. I reckon it’s a must-see for women and men alike as a reminder that “normal” takes many forms.
But I’m stumped as to why anyone would want pay $35 for a vajayjay souvenir soap from the gift shop.
Today will be much more pedestrian … we’re at sea … Think napkin folding demonstrations, an ABBA tribute show and more wild Bass Strait waves.
Keep your fingers crossed for me that no more hapless teens spew during Zumba and I’ll catch you when I score a mobile signal again.
PS As usual, check my Instagram on the right hand side of the blog for happy snaps.