brisbane forest park part I

The lady was middle aged, with neat gray hair and sensible shoes. Equipped with a map, pen and a plethora of brochures, she was clearly a woman used to dealing with hapless tourists.

She doled out advice as she outlined a suggested travel route on my disposable visitor's map. Like most of the Australians I'd run in to during my journey, she was direct and to the point.

"Don't go past overlook 11," she sagely advised. The particular spot in question was then duly circled on the map. "Here." She tapped the pencil against the paper, as if to underscore her point. "There's no petrol after this stop. It's very easy to break down and get stranded up there. You could get yourself in a bit of trouble if you don't have spare petrol."

She paused in her speech, and I took a moment to try and process this information. Okay, I told myself. No petrol, could get stranded. Two important points to keep in mind. Don't get stuck. Could get in to a 'bit' of trouble. Alllllrighty.

After I filed those tidbits of information away, the lady helpfully added another piece of rather vital information. "The road is very twisty, and gets especially bad after overlook 11. I don't recommend it for drivers who aren't used to mountain roads or are driving in large cars."

Another pause followed this statement. When she spoke again, it was if she was commenting on the weather or some other completely mundane aspect of life. "Oh. And there's quite a bit of bush out there. Not many people."

Point taken, lady.

I suppose I should have known that my day at Brisbane Forest Park was going to be quite the adventure when I first got there and stumbled across a sign that noted the presence of brown snakes in the area. There's nothing quite like reading a sign that bluntly states there's a possibility of getting a fatal snake bite while walking in the area. Not exactly the most comforting thing in the world to read.

Winding roads, fatal snake bites, no petrol and zero people aside, Brisbane Forest Park seemed like a relaxing place. From what I read, it was a breathtaking and vast tract of land that flanked the great city of Brisbane. Although only a short drive from the city limits, the forest was a national park, and an important one at that.

The drive from Ipswich to the Brisbane Forest Park itself was a nice one. The road skirts the edge of the city, taking you through an assortment of colorful suburbs. You eventually wind up on a mountain road, and begin a slow and stately climb towards the park entrance, which happens to be located in an idyllic and, appropriately enough, forested setting.

The entrance to the park is home to a parking lot, visitor's building and a series of walking trails. The visitor's building is well equipped with brochures, maps and sprightly middle aged ladies who are used to warning hapless tourists about the perils of Aussie travel. (No petrol, no people, lots of bush, lots of winding road ...)

Having quickly studied the visitor's map, I decided that I needed to go further in to the park. The visitor's center was nice and all, but walking trials advertising the evils of brown snakes were not quite my thing. I wanted something a little more scenic, and perhaps a little further from a parking lot. Plus, the twisting roads on the map looked oddly compelling, and I wanted to see what the scenic overlooks and 'expanses of subtropical rain forest' were all about.

And man, was I in for a surprise.

driving in queensland

Distance takes on an all together new meaning when driving around the roads of Queensland. Maps are deceiving; two points could look like they're next to each other, but an actual drive will prove them to be anything but close together. What seems like it should be a five minute trip turns in to a rather epic journey that spans three-quarters of an hour.

This seems to be the case no matter what. In this respect, Queensland is for all the world like California, a state which should be nicknamed something like 'Land of The Sprawl.' According to the fine citizens of California (and Queensland, for that matter), things should be built far apart rather than close together. In other words, make everyone drive stupidly long distances, for the hell of it! Why put a shopping center down the road when you can make it really down the road?

In the defense of Australia's sunny state, part of the reason everything is so spread out is that the bush is very much part of the landscape. 'Bush', in Australian slang, refers to anything that hasn't been tamed by the hands of humankind. Any wild, woolly, overgrown, or sparsely populated area is referred to as the bush. And make no mistake about it -- the bush is ever present in Queensland. People don't seem to encroach on the bush so much as the bush creeps up on people. It's kind of the paradoxical inverse of most places.

A fine example of this is the lovely city of Brisbane. A bustling metropolis with a population of over a million people, a skyline studded with sky scrapers and a rowdy and fun reputation, Brisbane seems completely urban. There's a wonderful transit system, sprawling suburbs, and enough gawking tourists to clog up pedestrian traffic during the summer months.

However, take about a ten minute drive out of the city in certain directions, and you'll see plenty of eucalyptus forests and kangaroo crossing signs ... but not too many houses. Park rangers at the Brisbane National Forest, which is on the outskirts of the city limits, actually warn visitors to drive carefully on the road ahead, and not to proceed without sufficient fuel. Why? Oh, because it's so remote, there's no petrol stations for over an hour and a half. And this is within a national park that is on the edge of a major city!

The day Joe and I went driving in the Brisbane National Forest, we were mildly amused to learn that there were exactly two spots on the road where we could grab some lunch. Naturally, one of these places was closed, which left one quaint place as our only choice. This little cafe was located in a tiny (albeit adorable) town of about one hundred people.

Amazing, the bush. Simply amazing. And everywhere.

Another reason everything is so spread out is that Australia is so damn big. I mean, yeah, we all known from geography lessons that it's the world's sixth largest nation, yadda yadda. However, I don't think a tourist can appreciate this fact until they're actually in the country. Then it starts to dawn on you. Oh wait, this place is huge and rather sparsely populated. A sign in western Queensland made this point clear to me when I read that the next town wasn't for 200 kilometers.

So, we have the bush and the sheer size of the place. That's two factors in explaining why every stop at the grocery store seems to morph into an epic road trip. But then there's a third reason why everything takes forever to get to.

Queensland has a system where there's a main town for a given area, and then lots of little towns associated with it. These little towns may be thirty kilometers away, but no matter. They are somehow linked to the one major town in a given area. Of course, lots of these little towns lack what the main town has, namely access to the railway system, a decent grocery store, and commercial center. So, if you want to buy 'nice' groceries or catch a ride on the train, you're going to have to truck in a fairly long distance to get to the one major town in the region that has these exciting features.

Luckily, driving in Queensland is generally a scenic experience. There are some stunning landscapes. A lot of the region's beautiful scenery is relatively untouched by people, as well, making it an even lovelier experience. You can drive for kilometers and not see a single house in many places. (Cows, maybe, or pasture land, but not houses.) It's a refreshing -- and freeing -- feeling.

journal entry: the great wheel of brisbane

September 14, 2008

... A giant ferris wheel, The Great Wheel of Brisbane (like 'The Eye' in London, England) dominates the South Bank skyline. In fact, you can see it from the waterfront sections of Brisbane's downtown area. It's that huge and imposing.

Joe [editorial note: my friend] and I went for a ride. The ticket lady in charge of collecting the admission fee asked if I was American or Canadian. Apparently they keep a tally of where tourists are from -- for book keeping purposes, perhaps? I always find that a bit odd, but the woman was genuinely friendly about it. She said she couldn't tell the difference between Canadian and American accents, but knew I had to be one of the two. I politely informed her I was 'merican, through and through.

I was so nervous getting into the Great Wheel car. The Wheel itself is over 200 feet high! You enter in to a climate controlled 'car' that swings whenever you move. There's an emergency call button to press if you panic, which I appreciated. (I do hate heights, after all.) I joked that I might need to use it.

A big boned Maori girl got me and Joe in to the car, and she seemed amused by nervousness. Joe sat across from me, and everytime he turned to take a picture, the car would swing slightly. I was jumpy about that aspect of the ride, but the views were glorious and well worth the moments of swaying terror.

It was almost sunset when we went up for our ride. It was rather romantic really, riding up in the sky as the sun was lowering in the horizon. I couldn't help but think it would be a wonderful spot to be proposed to, or something of the sort, with all of Brisbane at your feet and the sun casting a golden sheen on everything, river and glass high rises alike.

The ride stopped once while we were near the top. That made me very nervous. I remember saying to my friend, "Okay, we can move any day now." I was more than a bit anxious floating up above the known world, but I was also exhilerated by it. Like I said, the views of Brisbane were incomparable.

The entire ride was about ten minutes, or three full rotations. The admission price was steep, but entirely worth it.

The Great Wheel of Brisbane was definately a high light of my visit to the South Bank, and I would recommend it to any tourist visiting the area. It won't be here forever, as it is a temporary monument, and it ofers unparalleled views of the Brisbane metro area.

photos: brisbane

me, at the Streets Beach, South Bank

the beautiful arbor walk

skyline of downtown Brisbane, view from the boardwalk, South Bank

downtown Brisbane

the great Wheel of Brisbane, South Bank

brisbane's south bank

Brisbane, oh Brisbane. What a beautiful city you are! Out of all the hundreds of towns and cities I have seen, you are by far one of my favorites.

I can't begin to list all the reasons that make you so wonderful. I do know your location, along the banks of a grand river, certainly help. So does your architecture, which is full of sleek and modern high rises. There are the cultural gems that dot your expanse, such as the Queensland Museum and the numerous art galleries that line your streets. Your shopping is wonderful. There are enough malls and boutiques in Brisbane to keep a Paris Hilton style socialite content for months. Even some of your more famous suburbs are equally gorgeous, with million dollar homes rising up on lush green hilltops that overlook the grand view below.

I had quite a love affair with you while I was visiting Australia. And no wonder -- you're the country's fastest growing city. It seems everyone has the same opinion of you as I do!

***

My introduction to Brisbane began my second night in Australia. I happened to stay one night in an incredible luxury hotel, The Emporium. Located in a once seedy neighborhood (Fortitude Valley), the area has now gentrified in to an area of Maserati dealers and upscale shopping. A wonderfully decorated and sporty spot, The Emporium was a great way to get introduced to the decidedly casual-but-wealthy Brisbane lifestyle.

The hotel alone was an awesome experience, but my god! Brisbane herself!

My formal introduction to Brisbane began on the South Bank, the city's beating heart of culture. This is the area in which the performing arts center, State Library of Queensland, Queensland Museum of Modern Art, Queensland Art Gallery, Queensland Museum and the famous landmark the Brisbane Wheel are all located. Other must-see sites include the South Bank Parklands and Streets Beach.

The Queensland Museum is home to a wonderful (and touchable!) assortment of exhibits, all focusing in on Queensland history and her native fauna. Kids will especially get a kick out of the place, which was evidenced by the fact that hordes of well mannered children were swarming several of the more hands-on exhibits. Wonderful old dinosaur bones, an Aboriginal exhibit, and the chance to crawl around inside a native Queensland tree are all to be found here. The free admission charge makes it quite a deal, and the museum is funded by the State of Queensland. I had a blast here, taking photos, fondling the exhibits, and taking photos of myself fondling the exhibits. I also learned quite a bit.

The Queensland Art Gallery is virtually next door to the Queensland Museum, and also boasts a free admission fee. There are some truly lovely works here, and heavily showcases Australian artists. I especially enjoyed the Aboriginal Art section. The Aboriginal pieces were intricately made with thousands of dots painted on to canvasses of all sizes, in designs that held symbolic and religious meaning. There are some lovely sculptures as well, and an interesting pool that is often part of an ever-changing art installment.

The Whale Mall is a little walk-way that showcases life-sized models of whales hanging from the ceiling. Recordings of whale calls play in the background. Benches are arranged for those who want to sit, listen and watch the startled faces of people walking past. Of course, I loved it.

While I did not actually enter the State Library of Queensland, I found it was a nice spot to grab some lunch. Although pricey (like everything is on the South Bank), it's a nice place to sit, relax and enjoy surprisingly tasty sandwiches. There's a decidedly intellectual and upscale feel to the folks who patronize the restaurant there, which I liked.

The South Bank Parklands are a lovely spot. A big, glorified park in the middle of a bustling city, the South Bank Parklands is a wonderful spot for to grab dinner, have a leisurely stroll, or get one of the best views of Brisbane on the massive Wheel of Brisbane. Perhaps most striking is the South Bank Arbor, which extends for much of the park lands. A steel support curved in a soothing design is draped with beautiful purple bougainvillea. It's absolutely stunning, especially when one stops, smells the flowers, and takes a moment to absorb the scene. It is truly lovely.

My favorite part of the park lands was the amazing Streets Beach. It is a mix of a pool and a lagoon, artfully surrounded by palm trees, a gazebo, rocks and beautiful plantings of trees and flowers. You can actually swim in the lagoon, and it feels exactly like swimming at the beach, minus the pesky waves and sharks.

According to wikipedia.org, the Streets beach " comprises a lagoon with enough water to fill five Olympic swimming pools, with sand beaches, palm trees, rocky creeks and subtropical trees and exotic plantings. The beach is patrolled seven days a week by lifeguards."

Another spot I loved was the Nepal Peace Pagoda, a gift from the Nepalese government. It's an intricately carved wooden pagoda that visitors are welcome to sit and meditate in. It has an aura of peace and love to it, and reminded me of Nepal and my visits in the East. Naturally, I loved it.

There is a lovely Boardwalk as well, which runs along the river. It's a nice place to stroll, and frequented by a wide assortment of Brisbanites and tourists alike. There are spots on the boardwalk that have great views of downtown Brisbane across the river. It's close to the city but still removed from all the heavy action.

The Great Wheel of Brisbane is exactly as the name states -- a giant wheel that takes riders in little enclosed capsules to great heights and lets them take in one of the best views the city has to offer. You get a 360 degree view, and it is very high at the top.

Although I'm afraid of heights, I was determined to take a ride on the great wheel. It's only there for a few years, and I didn't want to miss a chance while I had one. A very nice Maori woman got me situated in my capsule, assuring me it wasn't scary and that hey, it was even climate controlled. She then showed me how to work the air conditioning, which was a nice touch. And then, bam! I was off, up, up, up in to the clouds. The capsule would shake precariously anytime I moved, so I tried to keep as still as possible, rotating my head around with a stiff neck and taut torso. However, my fear soon dissipated, and I was filled with the heady rush of seeing an incredible sight: Brisbane, at sunset, in all her glittering glory.

photos: brisbane river festival '08

brisbane river festival '08

The noise, the crowd, the expectations and excitement. Conversations, at a loud volume, swelling and diminishing as people walk past, laughing, cheering, holding hands and slapping sweaty palms. Me, rooted in one spot, trying not to get pushed or stepped on, perched on the edge of a tiny iron railing, a seat made of metal and the fabric of my jeans. I can't fall, I'm safe, there's only concrete and crowds around me, but still I sit, precarious on my metallic throne.

Cameras are flashing all around, little glittering globes of light that pop for a second with blinding brilliance. Bright white orbs, dancing in air, going off in my face, making me blink, shake my head, blink some more. My friend standing next to me is doing the same thing, my camera in his hands. It gives off little pops of white light every two minutes or so. My friend is making lightning white flashes of his own. Recording posterity. Recording the crowds. Recording a specific moment in time.

This, I think, is expectation.

Everywhere I look there are people. Hundreds and thousands and hundreds of thousands of people. Babies, toddlers, children, teenagers, young adults, the middle aged, seniors. Drunk people, sober people, stony faced people, joking people. A thousand different accents, and me caught in the cradle of their voices, listening but not understanding a word.

I'm here, at the heart of this massive event, almost by accident. Luck and chance brought me to this place, and now I'm standing in the middle of Brisbane, Australia, waiting for one of the nation's biggest shows to begin. Brisbane River Fest is an annual event celebrating an amazing city, and the RiverFire is perhaps the greatest extravaganza during the festival, a sweeping show of fireworks and burning jet fuel along a great expanse of the Brisbane River.

It seems the whole world has come to witness the event, and it's a great feeling. All of us, pale faces, Asian faces, dark faces, have come to be a part of this moment. It's communal. It's all of us in it together. It's children and old people coming together.

Expectation and tension mounts as we wait for show time. Finally, when it feels like we can't stand another moment of craning our necks heavenward, it begins. A jet flies low over the crowd, and then zips upward, letting loose a stream of fuel that is then set alight. A streak of fire fills the sky, a stunning sight that makes the crowd gasp.

And then -- the fireworks. Oh, the fireworks! Hundreds of them, shooting up into the sky, beautifully timed to music. They glitter and glisten and gleam, just like pyrotechnics should, and all of Brisbane stands there watching, gasping, oohing. Every two minutes I turn to my friend in awe and ask, "did you see that?!" or "how much money did all of this cost?"

There's a lull in the fireworks, a little trick to make the crowd think the show is over. And then boom! The show begins again in earnest.

It lasts for a long time. The technicolor glitter, the show in the sky, the burning jet fuel and impressive fireworks. I haven't been this enchanted by anything in a long time, and it's a good feeling.

My second night in Australia, and this happens. What a beautiful experience. I want to open my arms wide and say thank you to this wonderful country for arranging this event specially for me. Of course I know it isn't really in my honor, but I can't help but feel like that.

This is the moment when I realize that I love this place. Australia is welcoming me with open arms, and I am doing the same to her. We love each other. It's a love affair that has begun with literal fireworks.

I smile to myself at this thought. I don't tell my friend what I am thinking, but he can see it in my face. "Happy?" he asks.

I nod and then start to laugh from pure happiness.

"Very," I tell him.






(clip from the opening of the River Festival ... fast forward to 3 minutes to see the actual start of the show -- it's high quality footage!)