Thurs 23rd Nov - Wed 29th Nov
My first impression of Brisbane (or Brissy) were not particularly great. Due to the hostel, which would be home for all but one of the nights here, well no, technically it was two; it would become apparent that Brisbane is a pretty cool place. A late pick pickup from the transit centre by a doze employee, who later turned out to be the hostels entire work staff, should have sent alarm bells ringing. It wasn't until a cock-up on the hostels part that caused Adam and I to spend a night on the street that the true nature of this abomination of a hostel was truly shown. A park bench became our bench for the night with a night of alcohol before to help ease us to sleep. It actually wasn't as bad as it may appear and I got at least 5 hrs sleep, better than that in some of the hostels I had experienced so far.
After day one here we'd pretty much got to know the city inside out. Not a particularly big place, the error of leaving my mobile at the transit/shopping centre (thankfully found by management) led Adam and I from one side of the city to another. Yes, a little annoyance to the day, but it actually turned out to justify itself due to three hot Aussie ladies in the management office. Chatting away, conversation seemed easy. The English ascent seems to certainly work wonders out here. We left heading for the cities centre again, this time to socialise with Ben and Kerry.
The Pig and Whistle, queens St is one of the official waterholes for the Barmy army, and for Ad's and I would later that day become the location where we would have tickets for the Gabba, celebrating the possibility if not in-probable chance of reclaiming the ashes. With Steveo and Mark joining the 4 of us and the rest of the Barmy Army, the atmosphere was electric, the smell of beer floating in the air. How I love that smell, brings back so many memories of days and nights at home. It's also so alluring that it practically forces you to get up and buy a pint.
Soon the banter and chatting with random fans bean, and it was through acquaintances of Steveo and Mark that miracle of getting Ashes tickets started. They informed us that tickets had been re-released and were on general sale just up the road in Rebel Sports. I was up like a shot and before anyone could realise it I was half way down the street. We couldn't believe it, days 2,3 and 4 for $65 (27 pounds). The shock and realisation that we had them didn't set in until the day we made the Gabba, but for now we could properly join in with the celebrations back at the pub. We were going to the Ashes, the Gabba, and would have the pleasure of seeing one of cricket’s biggest sporting occasions. 1 more sleep till the Ashes, 2 until the Gabba. "Come on the England!" pub chants began......
" Aussie where-ever you will be,
your cricket team is history,
your spinners to fat, the rest are old men,
you'll never get your hand on the urn again. "
and
"We've got $3 to the pound, we've got $3 to the pound, we've got......."
"we're so rich it's unbelievable, we're so rich........"
What a day, what a nigh!!!
Unfortunately with every good thing that happens, there is always a downside. On the day in which the Ashes started Adam and I need to start job hunting if we were going to stay in Brisbane for a while. Agency after agency after agency. My hatred for them has grown since getting here, and I will be glad of the day when I never have to use one again. This though is some way off with Melbourne in the pipeline, and more than likely the prospects of home when I get around to coming back. As things turned out we'd needn’t have bothered, it turned out work in Brisbane would prove impossible to get, something to do with the season (or so they said), and as a result we ended cutting our stay in Brisbane shorter than previously planned heading for Sydney. This though would have to wait for the Ashes experience for us had just begun, and nothing was going to ruin this, well apart from England's performance.
With free public transport, getting there was easy. The herds of Barmy Army and Ozzie fans taking full advantage of the facilities available. With green, gold (canary yellow really!), blue, blue red and white sea of colour everywhere, the smell of fast food and pints, and good natured banter between rival fans, it was an awesome spectacle equal to any other sporting event. And then there was the view. I've seen some great sights while travelling down the east coast, all natural, but it was good to see a man made one can give the same sense of impressiveness and wonder.
Seated on the upper tier on the West Side of the stadium, the view of the Gabba was priceless. Smack side on with the wicket, we had the perfect view of any run outs that may happen. The pitch was an immaculate green (you would never guessed they have serve drought problems) with the wicket sat in centre stage ready for battle. We arrived early enough to see the likes of Botham and Mark Nicholas on the wicket no doubt giving their views of the days play ahead and how the wicket would fair to the channel 9 views across Aus.
Then it happened at 10am, the umpires came out to a tremendous cheer, play was moments away. The teams the followed, and with the first appearance the surge in the atmosphere was electric. It sent shivers back, hairs all over standing on end as the 40,000 capacity starting cheering and singing swing low.
Play commenced and everyone settled down as the game reached a less frantic pace, especially after the disastrous first ball of Harmy. From here on it’s appropriate for me to cut the story short as England’s performance was nothing to write home about. At times it was mentally draining on both of us, walking home after the 2nd game feeling mentally exhausted and massively depressed. Add to this the physical tiredness of sleeping on a park bench and I’m amazed we managed to stay awake for all of play.
It wasn’t until our final day at the Gabba that England actually started to show a hint of class, with KP unleashing hell on earth. It was pure viewing pleasure and even some of the Aussie fans were complementing his play. They were probably being nice as a white wash was imminent. Overall though the Gabba was an amazing experience, and over a month on I still can’t believe we got tickets to the ashes. With beach balls and Mexican waves bad, the place atmosphere and an overwhelming police presence, some might have thought the experienced could have been ruined. The cricket overcame typical Aussie over policing, and with the aid of the Barmy Army, some inflatable paraphernalia including sex dolls, and a few people brave enough to try and start Mexican waves, one word, "quality!"
This wasn’t the end of Brisbane though, Adam and I had the small matter of celebrating his 23rd b’day. The 28th of November 2006 will be remembered for:
Moving from a hellish to high tech hostel
Over indulging in Thai cuisine
And starting far too early the celebrations
We arrived at Tinbilly’s that morning, finding ourselves directly opposite the transit centre ready to leave early the next day. No news of work had come from the agencies and to this very day, the start of 2007, we still haven’t heard anything. Obviously we cast a really good impression in the short time of signing up and handing in our CV’s. Nether the less no work forcing us to head south was probably a good thing, looking in hindsight there would have been no chance of getting any accommodation in Sydney if we left any later.
Tinbilly’s was an ultra modern hostel that was clean, well ran with high tech security leaving it in a class of its own when compared to that of Valley Veranda. Although more expensive it was only for one night, and considering the money saved at the cheap valley, it was well within our reach.
With a drink down us at the hostel we were ready for the night a head. Now I think the lack of "big" nights out for both of us may have gad a huge influence on us leaving base at 6pm, and it was no doubt this over eagerness that ultimately ended up making the night certainly shorter than was planned. We met with Kerry at her accommodation and basically went at it very hard. Drink after drink after shot after drink, well that’s what it seemed like. Beer and shots are fairly lethal on their own, through in a bottle of wine over dinner at a Thai restaurant and basically you’ve got a recipe for disaster. Before we knew it (shamefully around 10) we were back at the hostel ready to collapse. Luckily this wasn’t the case as there were two Irish women sharing our dorm with which we stay up with until the early hours of the following day.
At this point I should make a little apology to Nadja and Lena, especially as they made the effort to come to Brisbane City centre as we "kinder" made an arrangement to meet up. We had predicted our lack of practice in the art of alcohol consumption and were slightly drunk.
The following morning with strangely no hangover we left Brisbane heading for Surfers and Byron. With schoolies on it was sure to be lively.
No comments:
Post a Comment