Pasha Goes to Boola Bardip

 Pasha was very excited. It had been a while since he'd been anywhere. But this weekend, he was off to the Western Australian Museum. 

     "We're going to Boola Bardip, today," said his friend, Lily.   

    "I thought we were going to the museum," said Pasha, worriedly. "I hope I have everything we need."

    He had his hay fever pills ready, and his hat, and his bottle of water. Was that everything? 

   "Boola Bardip is the new name for the museum," said Lily. "I've got tickets to the Egyptian exhibition that's come all the way from the Netherlands." 

    "Shouldn't that be a Dutch exhibition, then?" asked Pasha.

    "No time to explain," said Lily, as they had to rush for the bus. 

    At the museum, in the city, there was a big queue to see the Egyptian exhibition. There was a "Mummify a Cat" game to play on the computer. 

    Yuck, thought Pasha.

    So cool, thought Lily. She was really good at it too. 

    There were scrolls and stone statues. There were pots and jewellery. And then there were lots of mummies wrapped up and lying in glass cases.

    "Why on earth are they called mummies?" wondered Pasha. "They don't look like anybody's mothers. In fact they all look the same."

    "It comes from the Persian word for "tar" or "mummiya"," said Lily, reading the info sheet. "People thought the mummies were covered in tar."

   There was lots to see and do at Boola Bardip. But Pasha's favourite part was running through the water fountains outside. They were so cool on a hot day!

    "You are a bit silly, Pasha," Lily said, with a giggle. She hated getting her hair wet, but Pasha was damp all over from the spray.

    It's a pity mummies can't do that, he thought, as he walked back to the bus station with Lily. They must get awfully hot, lying in their bandages.

Pasha Tries to Study

Pasha the elephant was working on his PhD. It was a fine sunny day, so he took his books out onto the balcony. He also took some pencils and paper, his sunnies, a large box of biscuits and a tall glass of lemonade. It's always best to be prepared when tackling your books.

He squeezed himself into a chair and wriggled a bit to get comfortable - as much as as it's possible for an elephant to wriggle anyway. He opened his book.

He took a sip of lemonade.

He tossed three biscuits into his mouth all at once - cottage cream, ginger and chocolate. Rather a nice combination, he thought.

Soon he was busy reading a chapter of some very complicated Russian philosophy.

Driiiiiiiiiiit....driiiiiiiiiiit....driiiiiiiiitt....click.

Pasha looked up at the oddly irritating noise. It seemed to be coming from the bushes below.

Drit...drrrit....driiiiiiit.

"Who's there?" asked Pasha crossly, for he hated to be disturbed when in the middle of complicated Russian philosophy.

A little black insect that looked a bit like a grasshopper hopped onto the balcony and rubbed its legs together CRRRRRRIIIICCK.

"It's just us, the Australian Cricket Association."

"Whatever is that dreadful noise?" asked Pasha. His ears were really large, and the tiniest sounds sounded, well, dreadfully loud.

"That's the cricket bush telegraph," explained the insect. "We're sending out messages in Morse code." And he went CCCCCCRRRRRRRRIIIIIIICK....DRRIT just to show Pasha what he meant.

Pasha flapped his ears in annoyance. "Well, can't you do it somewhere else?"

"Sorry, mate," said the cricket. "We've got to let the country know that summer's coming. Won't be long now..."

Saying that the cricket hopped down back into the bushes.

"Well, really!" said Pasha to no one in particular. Such interruptions called for a biscuit. Now which would it be...?

Pasha Clicks a Pic

Pasha’s brother had got him a digital camera for his birthday. It was a sleek, shiny little thing. The best part was Pasha could copy his photos onto Facebook for all his friends to see.

“There’s so much to click in Perth,” said Pasha delightedly. He took pictures of flowers and towers, trees and bees, bright lights and historic sites. His photo albums got lots of nice comments.

But Pasha wasn’t happy. “I’m not in any of my own pictures,” he said sadly, as he sat on a park bench trying to get a duck to pose for him.

“Quack!” said the duck. “You’ve got a long trunk. Just turn the camera around and take your own picture.”

Pasha thought this was an excellent idea. He stretched his trunk out as far as he could. Click! What a wonderful picture!

Pasha’s mum didn’t think much of his photo though.

“Very nice,” she wrote, on his Facebook page. “What’s happened to your trunk though? You look like you’re blowing your nose into the camera.”

Which, of course, was not a pretty sight.