Day 8 - Welcome To Flavor Country

Day 8 - Stolen Breakfast and

A spunky triathlete, a tinfoil swan and mass quantities of Bundaberg Rum. But that's a tale for further down the page. Let's start with breakfast.

Yesterday, so as to make the most of my one full day in Brisbane, I woke up at 6:30am. I threw on my Palm Cove t-shirt, a pair of shorts and my favorite flip-flops (aka: thongs to my Aussie friends) and headed down to the Ponycat Cafe recommended by my iPad's Yelp app. "Why is everyone so dressed up at this time in the morning?", I thought. Then I stepped out of vacation mode for a moment and realized people where heading to work, it was Tuesday.

Read my glowing review of Ponycat, if you wish, ( http://www.yelp.ca/biz/the-ponycat-cafe-brisbane ) but to sum up:
The Banana Bread French Toast was, no word of a lie, the best french toast I've ever had. And the service was excellent. So good in fact that two hours later, when I remembered that I walked out and didn't pay bill, they were so "no worries" during my apologetic phone call. So, when I did stop back to pay I gave them a healthy tip. You aren't required to tip in Australia, but this was one of those times when tipping actually made sense. Do me a favor, if you're ever in the New Farm neighborhood of Brisbane, stop by the Ponycat Cafe for a bite. It won't disappoint.

I spent the rest of the morning discovering Brisbane's CBD (Central Business District). Downtown Brissy reminds me of the hustle and bustle of Toronto with the laid back attitude and beautiful scenery of Vancouver, Canada. Oh yeah, but its warm ALL year round Queen street is the place if you want to shop or grab a bite to eat. I got lost in one of their many shopping centres searching for a restroom (Australians are prone to use the word 'toilet', I find it so in your face. It's like saying, "Excuse me where do I poop?", that's why I'll stick with restroom).

During my jaunt back to New Farm to pay for my dine & dash, I did a walk by Chinatown (if you've seen one city's Chinatown, you've seen every Chinatown), then headed back into New Farm via James St. It's similar to Brunswick street, where I'm staying, just a little more upscale. My flip-flopped feet where starting to kill me at this point so I decided to go to a movie. I spotted an Event Cinema when scouting the restroom, so I took the scenic 20 minute walk under the Story Bridge.
Unlike in Cairns where I spent $21 for a a cinematic experience, movie prices here are similar to Canada. What is different is the assigned seating. No extra charge but they ask if you want front, middle or back. Your ticket has your designated seat printed on it. For a guy who likes to get to movies early, I love this idea. It pretty much guarantees I'll get a good seat, and won't have to pander to some shmuck who is reserving a whole row for friends. Go see the second Sherlock Holmes movie. An excellent watch.

After the movie I had just enough time for a quick nap before being picked up by Christina. She's a good friend of Bridget, of whom I introduced to you in my earlier Rockhampton escapade.
I wasn't sure what Bridget had in mind when she asked Christina to take me out for the night. Perhaps Chris was her slutty friend with whom I was supposed have a wild night of passion, and then wake up in a dumpster with bite marks on my nipples? Or perhaps Chris would introduce me to her local church group and initiate me into some "Save the Gays from Their Sinful Ways" campaign. Neither scenario I wanted, nor needed at this point.
Here's Christina in a nutshell (not a slut or a religious fanatic): a beautiful, vivacious and easy going urban professional, who just happens to be a triathlete (although she'll understate her accomplishment in that area, I believe anyone who can run, swim and bike for kilometers, go out for drinks that night, and then do it all over again the next day is kinda my hero). Nothing happened between us, so stop reading ahead. Although at one point after my fifth drink I did want to lean over and kiss her. But that was mainly do to the alcohol, mixed with her beauty, and a dash of newly separated guy syndrome. But believe me boys, this girls a catch.

We started out in at a restaurant in the beautiful South Bank. This area was originally built for Brisbane's Expo way back when, and was victim to a torrent of water during last year's floods. Chris introduced me to Little Creatures beer. Yum!


We ate squid, skirt steak and deep friend asparagus. All delightful. I jokingly asked the waitress to wrap up the steak's dipping sauce to take home. I don't think Chris quite got my humor at this point, but when the waitress returned with a tiny, tinfoil swan, I think she started buying into my charm. Or dorky humor. (ps: Chris, you are the holder of the swan, I expect my little foily friend back at our next encounter)

Next stop, the Sling Bar in the West End. A tiny little joint with overpriced drinks. The reason we stopped by is because I got word that they were supposed to serve a Caesar. Unfortunately they did not. Chris may never know the deliciousness of vodka and Clamato (yes, that's clam juice) mixed together in one of Canada's premier drinks. We stayed to enjoy a French Martini in honor of our mutual, kick ass, friend Bridget.

We then headed over to a tavern frequented by university students. The beer was good, and the company was fun.
Christina and I noticed that a lot of twenty something Aussie blokes where wearing pink shorts. We weren't a fan. There was a table full of guys, with one girl in a cleopatra necklace, sitting next to us. I decided to go over and ask one of these pink shorted fashion victims what the deal was. After a few laughs, and a debate over the difference between what is considered salmon and pink, they invited Chris and I over to their table O'Fun. I wish I could remember at least one of their names, because these guys where quality good times. They reminded me of my friends and I in university (minus the accents and pink shorts - although my one friend, Geoff, used to wear aqua socks {surf shoes} and cutoff jean shorts). One guy (the intellectual of the group) kept saying "Welcome to flavor country".

It was 10pm and Fun Table started buying Chris and I drinks. She held out like a trooper until this point. But finally had to cut the cord, jump in a cab, and try to sleep off her intoxication so she could be sharp at her 8am meeting. I stuck around with Fun Table for a couple more hours. They started buying me Bundaberg rum and Cokes, foreshadowing today's hangover. We headed upstairs to a nightclub called Über. I had a couple more rum and cokes, bought a round for the crew, took a couple blurry photos, danced around like a maniac with the guys and the lone female, Cleopatra, then snuck out of there. One of they guys from Fun Table grabbed my number, hopefully our paths will cross again.

Today is day nine. Pretty much the last day of my journey. Am I over the collapse of my marriage? Definitely not. Do I miss my wife? Yes, but only the good memories of her. Was this journey worth it? So far, so good. I'll sum it all up tomorrow after heading to the Gold Coast to spend time with my good friend Elliot and his brother in their beach front property.

Welcome to Flavor Country,
Jimmy