As predicted in my last blog I've not really done anything earth-shattering in Brisbane so far, so to repeat my earlier recomendation, if it's high octane tales of thrill seeking your after then It's best to stop reading now. Oh, and to the person who criticised the far from perfect spelling in my last entry and enquired whether they have spell checkers in Australia, actually No as far as I can tell this blog doesn't have a spell checker no. And whilst I did do a swift proof read I found my motivation taxed by the counter in the top right hand corner of the screen steadily rolling up the cost of my internet usage. Correct spelling and coherant grammar, clearly neither are worth 20 cents to me.

Tsk fine, I'll try more this time.

After my shock attempt to get some culture the previous day I decided for something less intellectual and set out to explore the Valley, which is a region just north of the CBD that is meant (according to my ever helpful airport guidebook) to be the more 'alternative' side of Brisbane. It's a fair description and Brumswick Street Mall especially comes across as a minture version of Camden town though probably has the same ammount of products on sale as every stall and shop isn't repeated three dozen times.

Closeby was Duncan Street, which is home to the Chinatown Mall. It would have been more impressive had it not been undergoing excessive restoration work which left 90% of the street cordoned off, clouds of grey soot in the air and there to be a constant backdrop of drilling and assorted clunking. It'll most likely be impressive once it's finished. As it was some traders were still cramped up on the very edge of the street but the overall effect was lost really. Plus, the b****** smog made me cough for a long five minutes.

Not wanting to spend any money I forced myself not to linger.

I started out walking to New Farm Park but as I came to Story Bridge a little way into my journey I spotted on my map that there was a small park called Captain Burkes just over the other side so, reasoning it wouldn't be too great a detour, I set out across the bridge. When I was still on the bridge ten minutes later I really should just have cut my losses and turned around. There's a lesson in there somewhere.

The bridge didn't stop immediatly when it came to the other side of the river but instead continued over the land for some time, meaning I had to backtrack under it once I had finally reached it's end. The area under the bridge, the in no way Australian sounding Kangaroo point, was quite up market and not really the sort of place I'd have sought out of my own accord, beyond expensive looking hotels and the occasional cafe there didn't seem to be much about. I reached the park and it was just that, a small park with some benchs and a childrens play area. I wondered why I'd bothered to be perfectly honest. And by 'I' I mean my feet.

I now had to retrace my steps all the way back under the bridge, then back over the bridge, at which point I'd be back where I started and then walk on to New Farm Park. Don't ever say I'm lazy.

The pedestrian road crossing light noises are odd here, they sound like they're from retro computer games, kind of an excited zap/pow sound. It does motivate you to move, like the whisle at the start of a race but that can prove problamatic when there are two close together and you react to the wrong one and launch yourself into oncoming traffic. I'm not dead yet.

The walk to New Farm Park took about an hour and a half and I rewarded myself for such bloodymindedness with a sit down and an ice cream that almost melted within two minutes. I'm glad to report I rose to the challenge however. New Farm Park is massive and, as I've noticed everywhere in Brisbane, unceasingly free of litter. I'm not sure how they manage this, or maybe it's just British people who automatically drop their rubbish wherever they're standing. You can hire out little chunks of the park, and there's several birthday parties in progress, some balloons from one came bowling past me and into some ducks which paniced and veered off in all directions. I thought they could have taken them myself. The ducks, and wildlife in general, seems very used to humans and one duck walked onto my bag (which was on the floor right in front of me) and sat down on the bloody thing. I was torn whether to shoo it away or not but in the end decided it could probably brush off such rejection.

Not wanting to walk back I instead hopped aboard a CityCat ferry that helpfully left right from the park and took me to the South Bank, just across a bridge from the CBD and where I'd been getting some culture the previous day. Although most of its passengers clearly see it as nothing more than convinient public transport and sit inside there was also a healthy crowd outside on the front of the boat and so I didn't look too much like a gormless tourist, True, a lot of them were children but why split hairs? The brief journey was a good way to see a large chunk of the city centre and I reflected that I really had been getting around the place as most of it was familiar. There were a fair few non public transport vehicles in the water, as you'd expect really. They were all going much faster than the ferry but we still moved at such a pace for me to get a cliche wind in the hair feeling. Ha, public transport as entertainment, obviously I'm far too easy to please.

A very British reflection on weather closes this entry. You have been warned.

The weather here is extreem, whilst British hot/cold falls within a relatively small spectrum when they say it's hot here they mean your gonna sweat walking down one street, gonna hear your skin sizzling, they mean it's hot. They also have rain here, that's rain with a capital R repent your sins as the apocalypse is here rain. It rained for about a minute on Saturday morning and in that brief time more fell than in a day of 'severe storm' UK weather. It was very odd, like somebody turning off and on a tap, it simply stopped and started without any gradual transition between no rain and all you can see is rain. In the eveing I got stuck outside in just a shirt during a longer downpour, I did undercover for a time whilst I ate a sandwich (it would be unhuman to drench a perfectly innocent sandwich after all) but eventually just had to man up and walk back to the hostel. It was still hot so was pleasently like taking a shower, a point especially brought home in contrast to the uber fast less than 2 minutes remember there's a drought showers I've been having since I got here.

I was less impressed when it rained all night and it sounded like the hostel was being shelled as I tryed to sleep. Though to be fair I jumped in my dorm and the place shook so maybe it's not that hard. I then jumped again, just to be sure you understand.