AUSTRALIA, Brisbane/Queensland 11th July
I do wonder who it was who 1st looked out over the untamed mass of Australian bush, scorched by an unforgiving sun, ravished by bush fires, kangaroos bounding about in the foreground and thought to himself: "What I really feel like right now is a Devonshire Tea."
Well someone certainly thought it and it has caught on like, well,a bush fire. Picturesque view points around the Glasshouse mountains are, it would seem, incomplete without one and you just make damn sure that you sit nicely at the table and don't even think about trying to wander off in the direction of the wild kangaroos, to see them from a different perspective, you will get shouted at. And it is not just cream teas but Aunty Maureen's Fudge and Hot Meat Pies, their incongruity rendering them absurd but also rather endearing. Like wandering back into an Enid Blyton novel that's found itself in rather a surprising landscape.
All this I observed from the back seat of our hire car as we pootled up towards the fashionable beach town of Noosa, in a caravan of family-laden vehicles. In one car: my father driving, Jeannie, my oldest uncle Jamie's wife directing and me in the back with my 12 year old cousin Briony both plugged in and enjoying the ride. In the other car, leading the way is my uncle Jamie, my Grandfather, my mother and 14 year old cousin Jordie who is very certain which side of the back seat is his and will not be moved. In this merry manner we spent a happy day seeing some of the northern Queensland coastline. I glimpsed a few of the surviving 'Queenslanders' (fine wooden houses on stilts with beautiful wide verandas) and admired the gorgeous sweeping white-sanded Pacific beaches whilst struggling to ignore the concrete of the beach-side towns and villages looming over us which destroyed the effect somewhat. Surf culture has its draw-backs.
Back to Brisbane. My Sydney friends, a little dismissively, refer to Brisbane as "Bris-Vegas" due to its reputation for being tacky and full of, well, not much. My middle uncle Jonathan has done his damnedest to disprove this theory, displaying a patriotism that I found surprising for one who spends most of his time living in Valencia. After coffee at the 'bohemian West End' strolling around the pedestrianised shopping areas Down Town, tea in a beautiful old Queenslander, Saturday morning breakfast in the trendy Valley and a day exploring the Art Galleries of the smartly set out South Bank I am in a position to argue. To an extent.
The major downside, as far as I can see, to Brisbane is the manner in which it has been developed. Town planning failed tragically and the result is that the old and new live together awkwardly, unlike Sydney where the two have been married together nicely. Like an American town, Brisbane has sprawled, mile after mile of suburbs, wide, low rise concrete units, industrial estates, shopping centres and drive throughs. Amoungst this rubble beautiful streets containing surving Queenslanders cower, increasingly boxed in by the incessant development and throwing up of apartment blocks obscuring a once beautiful view of the river, the best view of which is from a highway which they have seen fit to build along its banks.
Having said all of that, however, I have been lucky enough to see some great parts of Brizzy too. The city centre has a nice buzz to it and the pleasing atmostphere of a city on the up. The South Bank has been very neatly put together and houses some good galleries. The Valley on a Saturday was heaving with young hungover folk catching up over eggs and bacon and perusing the markets in preparation for a night out at one of the many clubs and bars in the area. There is fun to be had, culture to be absorbed and to top it all off I am off to a Punk gig with Jonathan and his ageing rocker buddies in the campus of the Queensland University in a week. That will gather me some ammo for the Sydneyites... Perhaps.
Bisbane also has the huge advantage of being where my family are and there is a lot to be said for that. A family "barbie in the backyard" (for the real Ozzy 'experience') excursions with Jonathan, a good catch up with my now 90 year old Grandfather, and a chance to get to know my little cousins better. My parents and I have also been having some great evenings in in our little 'serviced apartment' eating much-missed home-cooked food and catching up properly before they head off to Japan (and typhoons... eek).
We had a family jaunt up to O'Rilies in the mountains along the south coast of Queensland over the weekend. Another spectacular drive through vast, sun-scorched plains, stunning views of golden valleys and into dense forest as we climbed.
An evening tree-top walk in the crisp, icy air on arrival and a beautiful sunset viewed from Jamie and Jeanie's jungle lodge sitting room with panoramic views (to be enjoyed inside sipping wine in warmth and comfort).
The following day I was straining at the leash to explore more jungle and find some waterfalls (can't resist them) so I set out with Jeanie, Jamie, Briony, Jordie, Jonathan and Dad as far as the 1st waterfall where a good-natured Jonathn and I split from the collective and embarked on an 18km hike. After Kao Sok the going was a doddle, clear paths, no leaches and waterfalls at every step, I counted 11 so even I couldn't miss them. We charged around and managed to be back in time for tea. All gathered again, Jonathan slunk off to catch his breath (discreetly, not one to outdone by his little niece) and the rest of us compared notes as we struggled to salvage cake and mini meat pies from the jaws of Jordie who gathers, devours and, if necessary, fights for food with the determination common to 14 year old boys mid growth-spurt.
Once again we huddled in front of the fire and enjoyed another sunset and cheerful baramundi dinner in celebration of Dad's exam results.
Then goodbye O'Rilies and off in different directions. One car to the airport to meet youngest uncle Tim off his flight from Beijing, the other home via Tamborine Mountain and the other car, including me, off to Dream World.
Briony was kind enough to include me in her birthday treat to the vast theme park so after a moderate breakfast (terrified about it reappearing) we drove off in the direction of an enormous tower which loomed over the motorway growing alarmly as we approached...
I now know how it feels to plummet 39 storeys and now understand the eerie silence in which its passengers ride the Giant Drop. you leave your scream at the top and are capable of not much more thn a whimper until you reach the bottom and get that gratifying rush of adrenline when you discover that you have survived after all. Most exhilerating. We had a great time being thrown around, turned upside down and being shot out of things at insane speeds and returned to the Family Fold full of excitment and gabbering about our adventures, to which our good natured family listend without comprehension.
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1 comment:
hey, that pie william stole was mine. and it was the last one too. Damn they looked nice. oh well.
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