My in-laws have been struggling with the names of places we have been taking them. And, to be honest, we struggled with some when we arrived, too. We took them to Mooloolaba for some swimming, beach time, walking along the esplanade, and lunch at the fish market. They loved it, but who doesn’t love a beach?
The weather was warm, the waves were manageable, the breeze was the right combination of not too strong and not too weak, and the prawns we had for lunch were HUGE, as usual.
But in the morning, my mother-in-law asked if we were going to Moolalooba or Moobalooba or something to that effect. Dan corrected her, “It’s pronounced Ma-Loo-La-Ba.”
Later, while making tee times for the morning, my father-in-law suggested making one at, “Coobalooba or whatever.” I replied by saying, “It’s pronounced Ca-Bull-Tchure (Caboolture).”
It’s Briz-bin not Briz-bane.
It’s Ka-lang-ur not Ka-lan-gur.
It’s Sell not Sill.
It’s Beer-wah – not Beergarden (that one is an obvious butchering).
It’s Aus-trayl-ya not Austray-lee-a.