Australia - Brisbane

The most important ingredient of a good close shave is water, a lot of water.  Hot water.  Splashing and soaking the face for a couple of minutes with hot water softens the beard and allows shaving cream to set properly for a clean bracing shave.  A lot of men bemoan the chore of shaving every day, but I’ve always liked it, and I enjoy this aspect of grooming immensely as part of my morning routine.  Once every year or so, I’ll let my beard grow out for a couple of weeks just to prove to myself that I can still do it, but the females in my house can’t stand it, and truthfully, I can’t either.  I haven’t had a proper shave with hot water for three months, and after two days in Australia, I’ve had two of the best shaves of my life, or so it seems.  We’re back in the first world, and the things we now have at our fingertips make it seem like we’re living in some kind of dreamscape.  We’re not home, but it feels a lot like home even though people talk funny here and drive on the wrong side of the road.  

The differences between first and third world countries are mostly political and have to do with who lined up with the Allies after World War II and stayed loyal during the Cold War and all kinds of other boring stuff that makes my eyes glaze over.  These countries are also defined by their state of development, income levels, strength of economy, and other things that are slightly less dull but still difficult for a simpleton like me to grasp; so I’ve come up with my own set of criteria for determining the world in which a country belongs that the average mouth breather can understand:

1.  Water - drinkable from the tap?  First world.  Smells like acid from the tap, and there’s bottled water for sale on every street corner.  Third world.

2.  Toilet paper - flushable?  First World.  Small trash can next to the commode and a strict warning on the wall in ten languages.  Third world.

3.  Sidewalks - people walking on them leisurely while window shopping. First world.  People sleeping on them between five rows of parked motor scooters.  Third World.

4.  Traffic laws - in place with scary consequences if disobeyed so citizens obey.  First world.  In place with scary consequences if disobeyed and citizens couldn't care less.  Third world.

5.  Chickens - kept in expertly constructed coops in the backyard mainly as a hobby for fresh eggs.  First world.  Scrawny, running all over the place, nesting on roadsides, rooster chorus in the early morning.  Thirld world.

6.  Cattle and other livestock - kept in pastures or barns, fun to look at while driving through the countryside.  First world.  Shares the road with scooters and tuk tuks.  Third world.

7.  Rats - never seen one?  First world.  Saw a couple under the table at lunch.  Third world.

8.  Dogs and cats - spayed, neutered, current with shots and tags, kept in homes behind fences.  First world.  Roaming the streets, pregnant, unclaimed, fed by benevolent restaurateurs with a small surplus.  Third world.

9.  Cash - seen as suspect and sketchy, credit and debit cards preferred.  First world.  Only form of payment; credit and debit cards not accepted even though their logos are displayed on shop windows.  Third world.

10.  Restaurants - doors, windows, climate control, no bugs, no dogs, no cats.  First world.  No doors, no windows, fans (second world), bug spray on the table (second world), dogs and cats begging under the table.  Third world.

11.  Ferry boats - captain says, “Sorry folks, we’re at capacity!”  First world.  Captain blows a whistle and screams, “Move to back of boat!” until the number of passengers on board forces the boat down to where the rail is at water level.  Third world.

12.  Safety rules and regulations - government doesn’t trust citizens and foreigners to act wisely, so signs and labels are places everywhere to save people from themselves.  First world.  Citizens and foreigners are left to flounder in their own stupidity.  Third world.

Those examples should help most folks determine whether the country in which they’re currently residing is first world or third world, and even though it helps a little to be informed, moving from one to the other can be traumatic.

We landed in Brisbane, Australia, two days ago after a thirty-hour odyssey that included travel in two taxis, one ferry, two buses, and two planes.  The flight from Bangkok to Brisbane took nine hours alone, but we flew on Thai Airlines, which was very comfortable and accommodating with luggage, and we hope we’re finished with trying to beat baggage restrictions.  The music selection was top drawer, and I had Traveling Riverside Blues coursing through my headphones as we took off from Thailand, which my fellow Zep heads will appreciate, and the new release movie selection was pretty good too.  I ate a dinner of chicken and rice, watched Passengers with Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Pratt, slept three hours with the aid of modern medicine, watched The Accountant with Ben Affleck, ate breakfast, and knocked back a cup of coffee right before landing in Brisbane.  The rest of my crew had similar experiences, and all agreed that for a long flight, it wasn’t that bad.

Travel day

Now we’re in Brisbane, Australia on the east coast of the country/continent along with the other heavily-populated cities partially because it was easy to schedule the free flight from Thailand to this city.  It’s also home to the one of the few wildlife sanctuaries in Australia where visitors can cuddle with koala bears— the main selling point.  Most experts on ancient indigenous populations, besides having amazing parties, also agree that tribes of people had lived on the continent of Australia for fifty-thousand years when the Dutch reached the shores in the early 1600s. The British claimed and settled most of it almost two-hundred years later.  The aborigines are still here, but the majority of the population lives in the big cities and speaks with that peculiar nasal clipped accent that’s kinda British.  On a visit to the Outback steakhouse years ago, I learned from the menu that “Cheese fries, please” translates to “Chaze froiz, plaze” in Australian.

There are four celebrities whose deaths left me feeling disturbed and sad for a long time:  John Bonham, Dale Earnhardt, Princess Diana, and Steve Irwin.  Along with Paul Hogan, Steve Irwin was a great ambassador for Australia, and as the enthusiastic Crocodile Hunter, he was loved by millions including me, and it’s hard to believe that it’s been eleven years since he died.  I think it’s great that my little family is finally in the southern hemisphere in the Land Down Under which became more fascinating to me with each episode of the Crocodile Hunter.  The wildlife in Australia is unusual, and the majority of the mammals, reptiles, and birds here are found nowhere else in the world, and we’ve already witnessed a good bit of it.

Our home for five days in Brisbane is a mother-in-law suite on the first floor of a large house in the Kangaroo Point district just south of the river and the downtown area.  The house is in a neighborhood that reminds me of Jacksonville, Florida, with colorful houses built on stilts or over large garages and stands of palms mixed in with deciduous trees and tropical flowers lining the wide streets bleached white by the hot sun.  The five-meter-tall variegated hedge surrounding the property where our house is located gives the yard total seclusion, and our host family keeps mostly to themselves, so we feel like we own the place.  

The walls in our apartment are white painted paneling, and the trim and doors are painted with a full-gloss oil coating—the whole place has a fresh, clean look.  The floors in the kitchen and entry area are finished with richly colored terracotta tile resembling Mexican Saltillo.  The corner of the kitchen is home to a gas cooktop and oven and an espresso machine with a generous supply of coffee to keep me in crema for the week.  There’s a big bathroom with a washer AND dryer, and the shower is a glorious torrent of never-ending hot water that also cascades from the taps as well.  In many ways, it feels like we’ve just come home from a three-month camping trip, and we’re in a bit of shock as the world to which we’ve returned seems almost too good to be true.  We took a two-hour nap after arriving from the airport then walked down wide sidewalks past clipped lawns with flowers planted at the borders to the Vietnamese restaurant (yes, Vietnamese) where we once again enjoyed strong drip coffee.  From there, we took a quick stroll to the IGA grocery store to load up on supplies for a couple days, and we were set.

Next day we were up early feeling refreshed, and after a quick breakfast, summoned an Uber ride, and headed toward west Brisbane to the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary.  The sun was bright, and the lack of humidity allowed for a cloudless, deep blue sky.  The folks in the southern hemisphere are preparing for autumn, so the temperatures during the day in Brisbane stay in the upper seventies this time of year, which feels quite nice after months in the damp ninety-degree tropics and rainforests of southeast Asia.  Zoos are usually not my thing, but Lone Pine had a different feel altogether with almost total shade from tall, graceful eucalyptus trees and easy access to the animals living there.  For the next few hours we wandered lazily along the paths through the trees and fed kangaroos, saw flying foxes, watched slinky dingos prowl their territory, and took in a raptor show.  We watched platypuses swim, kookaburras hopped from branch to branch, and saw some of the most venomous snakes in the world coiled up on desert rocks.  There were wombats and creatures they claimed were Tasmanian devils, but after seeing every Looney Tunes cartoon multiple times, I think Lone Pine might not have the right creatures in captivity.  

Tasmanian devil?  I think not

Oops, ran one over

The real highlight at Lone Pine is the hundreds of koala bears living there that cling peacefully to low branches and munch eucalyptus leaves while visitors snap photos of these irresistibly cute critters.  We paid a little extra so Joseph and Deveny could hold a koala, and they loved it—what a fun thing to do.  We had a picnic lunch on the patio behind the general store where brush turkeys and water dragon lizards roamed freely, and I enjoyed watching the children and elderly ladies scream when they realized a two-foot dinosaur-looking lizard was at the foot of the table waiting for a dropped potato chip.  We visited with the koalas again after lunch and headed back home talking about the intriguing animals we saw that day at Lone Pine, a very special zoo.  We had left chicken breasts marinating in Italian dressing all day, so I threw them on the barbie out back and served them grilled and steaming hot with baked potatoes and broiled asparagus for a supper unlike any we’ve had for a long time.  

Brisbane was mostly shut down for Good Friday, but the weather was perfect, so we decided to walk down to the riverfront and check out the skyline of the city.  The City Hopper ferry sails the Brisbane River stopping at most major piers for several kilometers, and it’s free, so we jumped on board at the Maritime Museum and spent a couple of hours on a water tour of the city.  The downtown business area is on the north bank with impressive skyscrapers and the south bank has the rust-colored Kangaroo Cliffs with residential districts extending beyond.  Brisbane is a beautiful and well-planned city, and we enjoyed our time on the wide river on a cool, breezy afternoon.  

In fact, we enjoyed the river so much that we went back for a longer hike along the boardwalk the next day with Streets Beach as our destination.  We had another bright blue sky with warmer temperatures, but the cool breeze coming off the river was refreshing, and there were a lot of families out walking enjoying the holiday weekend.  Streets beach is a huge man-made lagoon located on the south bank of the Brisbane river that’s part sandy beach and part swimming pool, and its size and beauty is captivating especially with the skyscrapers of the city soaring in the background.  

The area surrounding the beach is a park landscaped with tall palms and tropical plants. Huge steel arbors lining the walkways support the weight of thick bougainvillea vines full of bright purple flowers.  There were a lot of people in the park on a sunny Easter weekend, but it didn’t feel crowded due to the size of the park.  The water in the pool was cold, so Deena, Deveny, and I sat on the steps soaking our tired feet and ankles, while only Joseph was brave enough to take the plunge.  His bravery was fueled by the need to retrieve our house keys which I threw into the middle of the pool just for fun.  I love being a dad.

We sat in the thick zoysia grass on a sloping bank in the shade of a stand of bottle brush trees and munched some juicy bratwurst along with roasted corn and cinnamon-coated churros and talked about how we hadn’t seen that kind of food in a long time.  The atmosphere at Streets Beach was so lively and fun that we stayed for several hours and took our time hiking back home along the river. We stopped for a while to listen to a youth choir singing praise songs on a small stage in the park.  When we reached our neighborhood beyond the Kangaroo Point cliffs, Joseph and Deveny continued on home while Deena and I stopped at a hair salon in the hopes that someone could cut my hair on short notice.  Within five minutes, I was in the chair sporting a black smock while a delightful girl from South Korea mowed my scalp close with clippers set for a crew cut, and she told us how much she loved living in Brisbane.  She met an Australian guy who traveled to South Korea frequently on business, fell in love, and moved to Oz after they were married.  It was fun listening to her stories while my grey hair flew from the tip of her clippers, and I’m now sporting a fresh buzz ready for church on Easter.

Grace Bible Church in the New Holland district of Brisbane was the fellowship with which we chose to worship on Easter Sunday, and it was the first time we didn’t have to Google, “English speaking churches” in over seven months.  The church was six kilometers away, so we summoned an Uber driver, who showed up a few minutes later sporting a suit and tie as he was on his way to church too.  Ten minutes later we were walking into a small, bright sanctuary with white walls and a sloped tongue-and-groove ceiling stained a rich honey brown.  The wall behind the altar was painted a dusty blue with a big rough-sawn pine cross standing in the corner. The lectern had a simple silver cross affixed to the front.  We sat in comfy pews, and many people came over to greet us including pastor Craig who was brimming with joy and purpose on a sunny Easter morning.  

My crew had a motley appearance with our pieced-together and worn travel clothes, and we were a bit concerned that we would stand out among pastel dresses and brightly-colored ties, but just about everyone at Grace was wearing jeans, and they couldn’t have cared less about how we were attired.  I’ve read that people who have traveled for a long time in countries where their native language isn’t spoken are overwhelmed with noise when they return home.  After months of tuning out conversations they can’t understand, they can all of a sudden hear everything around them clearly, and conversations are artificially amplified by understanding.  I can attest that this phenomenon is true because I experienced it at Grace Bible Church. Since Australians are generally friendly and enthusiastic, the sensory onslaught was tremendous, but the fact that our new friends were proclaiming the resurrection of our Savior along with their warm welcome to my little family made for an exhilarating time of worship.

The praise band was loaded with talent, and the congregation sang accompanied by guitars, fiddles, and piano:

Man of sorrows Lamb of God

By His own betrayed

The sin of man and wrath of God

Has been on Jesus laid

Silent as He stood accused

Beaten mocked and scorned

Bowing to the Father's will

He took a crown of thorns

Oh that rugged cross

My salvation

Where Your love poured out over me

Now my soul cries out

Hallelujah

Praise and honour unto Thee

Pastor Craig preached about the result of the Resurrection from the eighth chapter of Romans while the rays of the sun moved up the walls of the sanctuary highlighting the joy of the Good News as the hour progressed.

After the service, we spent a long time with a set of three brothers who loved to talk about travel, and it turns out their family was originally from Cairns, our next stop, so we got some good advice for our stay there.  Another Uber driver dropped us off at the grocery store near our house, and we walked home with bags of supplies to last the remainder of our time in Brisbane which has flown by much too quickly.  We missed our family and friends on this Easter, but the believers at Grace Bible Church welcomed us warmly into their family for a short time, and we were thankful for the opportunity to celebrate the greatest event in human history with our friends Down Under.

Our five days at number ten Grace Street in Kangaroo Point have been relaxed and revitalizing, and we’ve come to envy the folks that call Brisbane home.  The beautiful Brisbane River winds past cliffs, parks, skyscrapers, and bridges, and every time we head out for a hike along the banks, there are families everywhere enjoying their city.  We started our last day in the city with more school work and planning followed by a hike back to the river bank where we hopped the ferry for one more trip upstream to the North Quay dock and the Queen Street Mall in the center of the business district.  The majority of the mall is outdoors in a beautiful shady setting with large public art pieces on display and quirky shops interspersed among the global chains.  We strolled around for a couple of hours and enjoyed people watching on another sunny and cool afternoon. After the boat ride back to Kangaroo Point, we realized we were taking our last hike from the river to our neighborhood.  We loved our time in Brisbane, and after months of travel, it was refreshing to spend time with such friendly people speaking our language in a beautiful world-class city.