The Tale of Story Bridge

Having landed what I can only assume was yesterday, as I barely know my own name anymore, Jackie and I were feeling refreshed and ready to bask in the glow of Southern Hemisphere rays.

With an evening flight to Los Angeles on which I watched several flight worthy flicks as to avoid sleeping on the first leg, and then a midnight transfer over to the Brisbane bound 2 story Qantas jet liner it seemed to good to be true. The seats were comfortable, the movies were free and the snacks were actually tasty- we for sure were not in Kansas anymore.

I can really only speak to the first round of snacks, as my Duane Reade brand Tylenol PM, that I likely purchased for a trip many moons ago, kept me open mouthed and drooling for the majority of the 14 hour flight. I awoke for breakfast tea and the second half of The Beasts of Southern Wild, which I must be too dim or un-evolved to fully appreciate.

When we disembarked it was rainy and a bit overcast, but no biggie. A couple layers of flight attire were discarded and we went in search of our rental car. Interestingly enough the company with which we had booked the car was some sort of secret as no one, including the information booth attendant with frosted lip gloss and frosted hair, had ever heard of it.

Turns out Sixt car is a subsidiary of Red Button Car Rental and once Scooby and the kids cracked that case we were well on our way. All we had to do was sit in the airport for another hour until they located said vehicle. Either the lengthy flight or over the counter meds had left me in a tranquil state and we headed out in our new ride to explore a city that I am certain has a lot to offer when it has not just been hit by a category 1 cyclone.

That's right, mother nature has a sense of humor down under and although this 'never' happens in Australia, hurricane Sandy part II hit the same day Jackie and I arrived and, if radio news reports can be believed, swollen creeks were taking people out left and right!

We drove around for a while in the hopes of absorbing some of the downtown scene, but the streets were dead, and the rain torrential, so we plotted out path to Bunk Backpackers on Gipps street. The thing about Bunk is, if you miss the turnoff you head straight over Story bridge, leading you to the south side of the city. The first time this happened it was no big deal. The second time this happened was slightly more frustrating, as the police had begun to close down lanes to control traffic. We figured now that we had located the compound the third go-round would be smooth sailing. We were wrong. When in possession of a vehicle you must also locate parking and when we missed the garage entrance yet again, we had become far too familiar with the tale of Story bridge.

By this time the police had shut down the bridge completely and not even the bubbly radio personalities could tell us why. This resulted in hours of attempting to circumnavigate the blockage like healthy blood pushing its way through a McDonald's infused vein - it was painful and exhausting.

Finally reaching our destination we dropped our things in room J-201, filled with fellow travelers, and drying clothes. Despite one of our roomies' advice, we headed out for sustenance around 2:30 pm, only to realize all of Chinatown shuts down between lunch and dinner. Luckily China Haven was open an offered vegetable soup and sizzling chicken for NYC comparable prices, meaning ridiculously overpriced, but expected. It felt good to eat food that had not been hermetically sealed before take off. It was while polishing off the spicy chicken that the lag officially set in. Back to the hostel and, in the same clothes I'd put on two days before, boots included, it was time to sleep - at 4pm. Which led me here, awake and restless at 2 am in my lower bunk, fully dressed and fully awake.

Let's hope tomorrow is slightly more eventful, if not smoother - weather permitting!