In the Cheetah's Den (June '10)

There's not much that draws me to Canberra these days, mostly because I've reached the stage of my life were I can't take another museum, and certainly not one I have to drive round in circles to find. In the most part that just leaves things that only look good-to-do on glossy brochure pages, or the "nightlife". I hope you see the problem.

It was June 2010 when I used up my last good excuse to travel to Canberra - to visit the National Zoo. Or more importantly, a specific enclosure at the National Zoo.

We arrived late on a Friday night after a post-work drive from Sydney. The Quest apartment suite that Lyndall had scored cheaply on a last minute website was more than accommodating, and located on the second floor of the old Melbourne building. With its cafes and bars opened late below, it would have been an oasis of activity for the weary-but-not-quick-to-head-to-bed traveler - if only we weren't both battling a sniffle. One drink at PJ O'Brians and we were cowering under the covers of our comfortable temporary bed.

After randomly finding ourselves deposited down a dead end road outside the Kenyan embassy - as only you can in Canberra - we finally arrived at the zoo. Zoos usually depress me, and the National Zoo didn't exactly have a new song to sing. There's only so long you can watch a tiger stalk the same path of its enclosure before you realise your enjoyment is paid for by the miserable insanity of some of the less-suited animals within. For me, that realisation was long before this day. It's a small zoo, but we checked in at the front desk early so we could have a look around before finding a seat in the small pergola outside the cheetah enclosure at about two o'clock.

Over the last few years, animal experiences have been popping up at almost every zoo that can't attract a large slice of the world population and would otherwise have trouble cutting the budget. They're not cheap, and at $150 per fifteen minutes, this one was no exception. About ten people per day visit the cheetah enclosure, so it doesn't overly exert the animals, but a few thousand dollars a week doesn't go astray in further developing their care. But it felt like it would be a high value experience, and as good a reason as any to get away for the weekend.

Two keepers passed us through the double-gated entry and we stepped up through the low scrub, ushered towards a small copse of trees shading the ground occupied by three lazy cats. They regarded us indifferently.

The most common response I receive from people when I tell them I'm doing something like this is "you're crazy". But there really is nothing too crazy about the things I do as a general rule. In particular, walking towards a group of cheetahs isn't so crazy, not only because they're more or less domesticated cheetahs, but because your average human adult is just too big to be considered easy prey. Sure, they can run fast - but tell me, have you ever seen any cat do something that didn't require the minimum effort for a result? And really, I shouldn't just pick on cats - because that's the trick to getting close to any carnivorous animal. Never fall on the wrong side of the effort-to-reward equation.

Still, these are animals with sharp claws and pointy teeth, so best to be on the safe side. Foot placement is always geared towards backing up quickly should the keepers feel the cats aren't so impressed with what you've done to their fur. Running your hand back along a cheetah doesn't reveal much substance; even these cheetahs of pleasure are built very lean and slim-lined. A deep purring reminiscent of a diesel engine is a sure bet that you've hit the right spot, and that you can keep doing what you're doing.

Kneeling there under the trees minutes passed quickly. The matriarch of these three girls was sitting furthest from us and had a reputation for her grumpy temperament. I could detect nothing of it, even when she decided to move off it wasn't anything to do with us so much that we weren't sitting in the sun when she decided she'd like to work on her tan. The remaining two stood and yawned right beside our position, begrudgingly passing up further grooming and deciding that sun was a good idea. We let them settle again, and I retrieved my camera from the keeper.

Its an amazing opportunity to photograph any exotic animal so close, and me being who I am, snapped a hundred or so exposures in the next few minutes. I only stopped because the keepers were beckoning us over for one last pat before it was time to leave. The cats sensing their source of affection was gone, moved off down the enclosure as we disappeared back behind the fence.

I often find it amazing how quickly you can be pulled away from normality when you step outside its usual bounds. Fifteen minutes is all it took on this occasion to find myself back on a path I'd been on only moments earlier, not knowing where or what I was going to do next. Or that could have just been Canberra exerting its force. But I already felt like my batteries had been charged with the power of a week's holiday. And if you ask me, that's 150 big ones well spent.