Things that sneak up on you

I met my first unfriendly Aussie the other morning. A Huntsman spider stalked me from the corner of the ceiling in the kitchen. It was black and all legs, as big as the average Avondale arachnid.

“Ah, there's a big black thing in the kitchen. Do something,” I commanded Roger.

“Like what? It's a spider,” he answered inexplicably nonchalantly.

Yes, that's right, it is a spider and that should be enough don't you think? He was showing a distinct lack of seriousness for the situation I thought so I reluctantly spelled it out.

“Like get rid of it. I don't care how, I don't like spiders.”

The unspoken look on his face indicated that he thought I was in the wrong country then but humouring me he went into the kitchen to check it out.

“Oh it's only a baby,” I heard his disembodied voice announce and considered his joke to be in very poor taste.

“Well it's bigger than I've ever seen. I'm from New Zealand, we don't have beasts that can eat you in one swallow.”

What happened next made me squeal like a girl's blouse. He picked it up in his hand and let it sit on his arm while walking the thing to the door. Eee-yew.

“No seriously it's just a baby,” he said as cool as a cucumber icy pole. “Wait till you see what it grows up to be.”

“Ah, yeah, I'm good with not thank you.”

A few days later I spotted a book in the library called 'Melbourne's Wildlife'. Melbourne mind, not Victoria, not Australia's wildlife – just Melbourne and it was still the size and thickness of the complete Oxford dictionary! I look up Huntsman because I had a ghoulish curiosity. Yep, pretty frigging huge, Roger was not joking.

“Of course,” remarked my Queensland colleague. “They get bigger than that in Brisbane.”

Placing her fingers and thumbs together to make a circle she showed me a shape the size of, oh – I'm thinking a hamster! Remembering the comment of the old guy on Brighton Beach about it being too cold in Melbourne for most beasts, I knew there was a reason I chose Victoria over Queensland, the most deadliest place on the planet it would seem. Queensland boasts one of the only two animals in the world to hunt humans for fun. That would be the 'Salty' or saltwater crocodile. The other is a polar bear but thankfully Melbourne is not quite cold enough to attract them either.

Anyway back to my friend the Huntsman spider because the story doesn't end there. Saturday morning, bleary-eyed, grumbling about having to get up at 7.00am, I stagger into the toilet. It's a gloomy day so I turn on the light and as I look up – Ah! Harry the Huntsman's big brother Everett (as in Peter 'Spider' Everett the local sportsman) is looking down at me. Little Harry was more like Dirty Harry setting his older, hairier sibling on to me. Well I was not feeling very lucky punk so yet again Rog the disposal expert is called in only this time I'm not prepared to watch him bare-hand the beermat sized creature. I retreat to the bathroom to shower away my shattered nerves, making sure of course that I check every ceiling crevice first.

Far out, I'm still having palpitations thinking about the thing. The good news – they are apparently friendly spiders by comparison. Comparison to what!?! Black Widows? Darth Vadar? But yes it's true, the Huntsman is not a venomous arachnid and they don't nest, hunt in packs or curl up in shoes, clothes or bedding, unlike the White Tail, Funnel Web or Red Back. Except that they are all Australian crawlies too! Huntsmen, or so I am reassured and I hope that they're not just being kind, only like to hang out in ceiling corners so while they can be pretty much the size of small rodents, they don't come near humans much.

In fact Harry and Everett were as scared of me as I was of them - apparently. So while I'm screaming at Harry, Harry was not taking any of his eight beady eyes off me in terrified fear that he might lose track of the human and not know which part of the house I might be lurking in. “Ah, a girl,” would no doubt have been the shaky words on his fangs if a spider's mandibles had the ability to form words. Okay look I'm trying but Roger's advice to shake my irrational fear by thinking of the poor spider and giving is a name to become it's friend is just not working when every time I close my eyes I see an image of it having four times as many eyes and legs as me. I don't think Harry, Everett and I will ever be enjoying tea together unfortunately but if this beast meeting carries on, I might have to see a therapist.

Oh and by the way, book on 'Melbourne's Wildlife'. I don't care if you decide to call it a 'legless lizard', I'm afraid it's still a goddam snake.