Sometimes a place can sneak up on you. When you're least expecting it, you get drawn in, enticed down a chattering, meandering path where one thing just keeps following another, welcomed with feasts for the senses, the intellect and the heart, and before you know it, a month has passed! Which is a rather convoluted way of saying 'I like Brisbane' and of apologising for the prolonged silence on the blogging front.
How delicious it is to have the time and the freedom to stay long enough to get a real sense of a place. To make friends and move spontaneously through my days, taking up opportunities and invitations as they arise. I feel that my time in Brisbane can be summarised as being in the right place at the right time (or perhaps it is more that I have moved into a relaxed and open way of being where the right place is Here and the right time is Now). That place has not involved sitting in front of a computer, which is nice, but leaves me with a dauntingly large bag of stories to share. So as not to overwhelm (whoever happens to read this, or myself), I will tackle it in nuggets, returning to my letter-writing strategy of 'short but frequent' (far more productive than long but never-completed in my experience).
Every city has many faces. Each person experiences it in their own way, which may say as much about them as it does about the city itself. So I have no delusions of being able to describe Brisbane accurately or capture its spirit. Yet of all the travellers and residents I have spoken to about this city, two simple words seem to repeatedly emerge: friendly and relaxed. It may sound a cliche, but the Brisbane I have discovered is a place where people have the time and willingness to get waylaid by conversations with strangers. I suspect that the slowly pulsing river running through the heart of the city has a powerful influence here, encouraging slow meandering over linear haste, and providing abundant locations for lazy picnics in the sun (if we gave our cities and index of picnickability Brisbane would rate highly). Speaking of sun, the weather here must also surely contribute to this atmosphere. As much as I have defended the joy of a crisp winter day and real seasons, I have been revelling in this concept of t-shirt weather in July (although don't get too jealous people- Brisbane recorded it's lowest maximum in a decade last week, it hasn't been sunshine all round).
One of my favourite conversations with a stranger occurred while reading a book waiting for a friend. A man approached me saying 'I see you are reading, are you a reader?' and proceeded to introduce himself as the complete James Joyce Appreciation Society of Brisbane, explaining that it was in fact Bloomsday. After speaking for a while I said that I would keep an eye out for a copy of Ulysses in my travels and give it a go.
'Oh no, I wouldn't do that if I were you.'
Confused face (if not even the James Joyce Appreciation Society appreciates James Joyce then what hope is there for the rest of us?).
Turns out this fellow is a playwright, and while reading Ulysses decided he hated it so much he was going to write a play called Death by Ulysses. Only when rereading the book to get material for the play did he decided it was actually rather good. Good luck to you, wherever you are JJASB, and thanks for making me feel like I myself was in a book.
Other ways that Brisbane has endeared itself to me include friendly and helpful railway staff (imagine! pay attention STA), extensive and easily navigable bike paths, with friendly drivers to boot, and abundance of free live music and open-mic nights, and a lovely quirky sprinkling of street art and knit graffiti.
Not that I have spent this whole month in Brisbane- I have been on a number of adventures into the surrounds, both solo and with company. In my first week I caught the ferry across to North Stradbroke Island for some beach wandering, bird and dolphin watching (alas no whales, 'tho 'tis the season) and a dip in the serene tea-tree stained Brown Lake. My next foray was a combined train-cycle trip to Woodford for the Dreaming festival (more on this later). Last week I returned to the same area in order to explore the spectacular Glasshouse Mountains (Spangled drongo! possibly my favourite bird name ever), climbing Mt Tibrogargan, the father mountain of the family of volcanic plugs scattered across the landscape. It felt good to use my legs for something other than going round and round, clambering up the steep rocky side of the mountain, and the reward was soaring views in all directions (see picture below), including to Brisbane and the coast. My friend James has also been a willing co-conspirator for day trips: up Mt Coot-tha for views over Brisbane at sunrise, and yesterday to Boondall Wetlands for mangrove meandering and time with the birds (mangrove gerygone). All this within a stone's throw of Brisbane- not only has this city been easy to slot into but also easy to get out of.
At that, I pronounce this nugget big enough.
In the next few days I hope to share stories of the Dreaming Festival, Food food food, and a bunch of exciting community projects happening here in Brisbane, as well as eventually some information about cycle-touring gear (information I wish I had when starting out).
Mail can be sent Post Restante c/o Eudlo Post Office.
cant wait for the next installment!
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