Sometimes I wish I had bought the bigger backpack, but then again, there are a few things I’m sending home with mom, and a bigger bag would just mean more crap I don’t really need on my back. All I know is that packing up your entire life twice a week is becoming a pain in the podex. But, once that was done, we were on merry way to the airport shuttle and then on our way to Porsperpine, which, a month of practice later, I still can’t pronounce properly.
We were to be picked up by our sister/daughter from another mother’s older brother (chart this one out), a young man named Martin. We had never met him before, and while he had sent a photo of whom to expect in response to me sending him a terrifying photo of what he was to expect, I didn’t receive it in time, so we were going blind. By the luggage carousel stood a lovely young man holding up a sheet of paper with our names and our flags (Hungarian, Canadian, and Romanian I think). We assumed that was him and after a round of handshakes and then hugs, we followed him out of the terminal and back into city life.
Martin lives in a suburb of Brisbane (or Brissie as he refers to it and I prefer to the general Brisvegas), where the buildings are mid-rise and friendly, and transport to the city centre only a few minutes away. I finally managed to go get myself a new chip for the phone, courtesy of Telstra. I’ve been sucking the data on that thing like it’s going out of style though, and I’m just now realizing how connected I was back home – either on the home WiFi or Starbucks or wherever. Instagram is an especially large culprit when it comes to data drain. Here, Starbucks gives you a password for their network that’s valid for an hour – then your butt better go get another coffee or treat because it kicks you off the network. In Toronto that would cause a revolution of all freelancers, artists, bums and kids everywhere. I do think other shops though are a little more generous with their interwebs. Anyway.
We weren’t sure how long we were going to stay -2 days? 3 days? – but after we sampled Martin’s wonderful hospitality, (and the barbeque dinner he had prepared for us) we made it 3 days. Brisbane is a lovely city – modern and bustling but without feeling overwhelming or too pressurized. It kind of reminds me of Boston. And clean. Maybe Australia is a nation of cleanfreaks, or there is just a really enthusiastic force of garbagemen (and women) employed by every town and city we’ve been to, but you could practically eat off the floor. Or maybe it’s all the Ibises that strut about, picking things up off the floor and from garbage cans with their long curved beaks.
Speaking of birds in the city – hardly any pigeons around here, though you do see them here and there, but a plethora of crows, ravens and Ibises. Apparently, ravens are native to Australia. And the obligatory odd parrot here and there. Now, to be perfectly honest, they’re beautiful birds, but when they start squawking away, I’d cheerfully wring their pretty little necks and fry them up for dinner. Mom loves their sound but it just grates on my nerves. It’s like having trees full of that guy who played Iago in Disney’s Aladdin yelling at you. Who wouldn’t want to grab a shotgun?
We had a wonderful day exploring the CBD (Central Business District, or Downtown Core to us Torontonians). The Queen Street Mall (which means that the stretch of road had no cars allowed) was buzzing with people having a drink after work or shopping at the trendy boutiques and high-end brand stores. The façade to the shopping mall on Queen Street is practically a work of art. I discovered a paper-and-paper related store named Typo, which has all sorts of funky calendars, wrapping paper, art supplies, and hipster knick-knacks, so the girls left me to my Eden and they went browsing the rest of the mall. Eventually I had to be hauled out of there because we were going to meet the Garry Boys (sounds like a gang from that musical with the dancing gangs…what’s that called again?).
We ate dinner at a German restaurant, quenching mom’s thirst for wheat beer, and scarfing enough sausage, schnitzel, and knuckle to last us for a good long time. We slightly over-ordered, but we bagged the leftovers and had us a mighty fine breakfast the next day. The views of the nighttime city were also lovely, a bridge spanning a river, the city all aglitter, and good friends all around us. Sadly I couldn’t keep the camera steady enough so all my night-time shots here are blurry and bleh. The Garry family were so friendly and open, and made a trip from the suburbs to meet us, so we felt really very special.
The next day was our last full day in Brisbane, which we merrily filled up with exploring a farmer’s market that we stumbled on (which apparently happens every Wednesday at the foot of Queen Street), wandering the South Bank, and traipsing through the Botanical Gardens. The farmer’s market was small but vibrant, and very, very busy. Nom Nom really stood out on account of the fetching logo and the kind gentleman who chatted with me about his business and looked like he would know how to have a good time. We couldn’t get over how flavourful and juicy the fruits were at every stall (they had apples and pears and such cut up and available for tasting at most stalls).
Our last night we spent in, and were loath to pack up, as we felt really at home with Martin and were doing a pretty good job of taking over his house. But alas, move forward we had to, especially as we had spent a few hours in a Starbucks, courting diabetes every hour on the hour with all the sugary stuff we had to buy in order to keep on accessing their WiFi so we could book tickets and accommodation in Byron Bay. With a sad tug at our hearts we hugged Martin in the morning as he was going off to work, packed our bags and got ready to turn into beach bums again.
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Other photos of things in and around Brissie:
