Initial reactions:
1. ZOMG I am back in Australia.
2. Everybody is really loud and rude.
3. Customer service is pretty awful.
4. Is it just me, or have things gotten more expensive?
5. *switch on tv* Why is Kyle Sandilands still a thing?
The next day I caught the bus and train to Brisbane. The bus arrived about 3 minutes before the train was due to leave from Robina station, so I rushed to the service counter, paid for a full-fare ticket to Fortitude Valley. The guy gave me a ticket, and told me to run because the train was about to leave and there wouldn't be another for half an hour.
So I ran, with backpack, suitcase, satchel and laptop bag in town, and just made it. Then I looked at the ticket. Although I'd paid full price, the guy had given me a concession ticket. The hour trip that ensued consisted of me thinking "ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap I hope no inspectors board the train..."
And then the inspectors boarded the train. They fined some people but never got around to checking my ticket. Then they got off at Roma Street. Then I anxiously awaited the possibility of being checked when leaving the station, but the attendant just gave it a casual glance and waved me through at Fortitude Valley.
Fortunately, the next few days were more relaxing. They consisted of:
1. Coffee and brunch at trendy hipster cafes in garages and warehouses.
2. Craft markets with all manner of cringeworthy t-shirts, fudge, and handmade ornaments.
3. Sunshine and long walks along the Brisbane River.
4. Wholemeal bread, vegemite, and vegetarian food.
5. A weekend of social swing dancing at the Brisbane Lindy Exchange.
And then, on Monday, I was back in Melbourne...
To be continued...
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