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Year View| Summary| Highlights| Month View| Sunday 10 August 2003 (Day View)

10.08.2003Sunday 10 August – Free ABC Classic FM Concert

I braved my way to the ABC’s Ferry Road Music Centre again to watch (and hear) Guitarist Karin Schaupp playing York’s Evocation, I Albéniz’s Torre Bermeja, Granados’ Dedication Op 1 No 1 and Spanish Dance Op 37 No 5, Richard Charlton’s Threnody for Chernobyl and Kingfisher Dances, Mertz’s Hungarian Fantasy Op 65 No 1, Barrios’ Contemplation, Dyens’ Tango en skai and finally Sainz de la Maza’s Zapateado. She was magnificent, truly awesome in fact. When someone’s been playing since they’re five and performing since they’re six, you know it’s going to be good. While classical music isn’t always my favourite style (I’d have preferred a more modernistic flamenco influence), I was impressed. It was very good, or at least I thought so. Such fast finger picking is amazing to watch and hear. Unfortunately, though, the journey there wasn’t so amazing. I should have realised by now that in my present mental state I need to triple check everything, but of course, I didn’t. Instead, I simply told Queensland Transport’s online TransInfo site where I wanted to go and that I needed to be there by three o’clock. That was my first mistake. I should have said ten to three, or even earlier.
Second Mistake
My second mistake was showering for too long. By the time I got out of the shower I had thirteen minutes until the train left. So here’s me, wet, naked, sick and with thirteen minutes to get onto the train, slowly shuffling around in circles wondering what to do. Two minutes later and I’ve formulated the only viable plan in situations such as these – panic. I usually try to allow fifteen minutes to get to the station, and I’m nearly always late and end up jogging part of the way – that’s when I’m healthy. Today, by the time I’d got ready (which in retrospect was probably a world record), I think I had three minutes to get to the station. I jogged as fast as I thought I safely could without collapsing, which wasn’t particularly fast considering this is the first time I’ve been further than the carport since Thursday, and managed to catch the train. I guess I should add the standard disclaimer here: Do not try this at home. These foolish acts were performed by a highly experienced psychotic idiopath under controlled conditions. Trying this at home will certainly lead to near death when you arrive at the train, and you will have to lie on the seat, wondering why you are so stupid. Of course, being highly experienced as I am, I survived and was quite proud of myself for making it. My legs did feel as though they were about to have severe cramps though, and I had a strange feeling that getting out of the train at the other end wasn’t a good idea.
Third Mistake
The third mistake flows on from the second. I forgot to write down or memorise where to get off the train station and where to catch the ferry. Needless to say, I was supposed to get off at the other station – South Brisbane Station, but seeing as I didn’t and I knew the ferry was in South Bank somewhere, I got off at South Bank Station. This didn’t really matter. It was probably good. I had been lazy on the train anyway – hadn’t done any neck rolls or ankle wiggles. I was probably about to get blood clots. So I guess the best thing that could have happened to me was that I got off at the wrong station with ten minutes to catch a ferry that was about ten minutes away. Not a problem.
Fourth Mistake
Well, there was one problem. I went to the wrong ferry terminal. Not that this was a problem in itself, rather the fact that the ferry was a CityCat, that it was going upriver right now, that they travel at speeds up to 50 kilometres an hour and that I had to race it to its terminal. Shades of “Run Lola, Run”.
First Mistake
This brings me back to the first mistake, having successfully caught the train and then the CityCat, and successfully got off at the right terminal, I now had less than ten minutes to get somewhere – emphasis on the “somewhere”. I knew what street it’s in, I knew its name, I even knew I was in the right suburb – but when rapidly hobbling down a riverbank none of that is much use. However, all good stories must end happily, so I got there in time, panted into the centre, bought a drink, and had to throw it away because they wouldn’t let me take it into the theatre. It was one of those expensive sports drinks that make you come alive again too. The place was packed – a good few hundred people I’d estimate. I had to sit on a stool thing as they’d run out of chairs and I think I was the last person to turn up. Raymond was already there, along with a few friends that he’d managed to enthuse enough to come along – and they even let him keep his water bottle.
After the superb performance, we all caught another CityCat to uni, and from there Raymond, his friend Alison, and I caught a bus towards Indooroopilly, although Raymond got off at his college. I had the smallest available Pakistanis meal, which was very yum although I couldn’t finish it all and it nearly killed me, and made my way down to the train.
The Train
Brisbane trains are normally good, but today I sensed something was different. I’m not sure if it was the Gold Coast train going down the Ipswich line, the flashing orange lights, or the huge crowds that gave it away – but something was wrong. The Brisbane Show is on, which accounts for the crowds, and rather obviously something was broken, which accounts for all the signals flashing orange – which isn’t at all handy as it takes ages to get anywhere. Exactly why the Gold Coast train was going down the Ipswich line is beyond me though, but they were redirecting Gold Coast passengers onto out train to meet up with it again at Beenleigh. Perhaps it can fly.

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