Wonderful World (Chapter Two: Thrifty Driving)

Isn't this a cool building.  Downtown Brisbane was beautiful--very clean, very pretty, very crowded and very hilly too.  The streets were nearly impossible to navigate, but we tried.

I rented a car, because I had the romantic notion that if there wasn't enough to do in Brisbane, we could drive up the coast to the Great Barrier Reef--the fact that it takes two hours by plane to get there should have clued me in that driving there would be highly improbable (30 hours minimum--it was only a 10 hour drive to Sydney, but I digress).  But wait, let me start at the beginning.

After I found Adam and gave him a good, long hug (kind of leaning on him, so that I wouldn't fall down), he pointed a few feet away and said, "do you want to meet one of my roommates, Wayne?"  Wayne works at the Coffee Club right at the airport directly outside the customs room.  How handy was that.  And it is a real restaurant, which Adam attests has really good breakfasts.  I've just been on a plane for 14 hours with nothing to eat or drink, so the plan is perfect.  They had eggs on the menu and crapes and stuff that sounded like breakfast, but I was leary.  It was awfully upscale for my taste.  Then I saw Bacon and Tomato on Toast--well that's my all time favorite thing to eat--no bothersome lettuce.  They had an actual bottle of diet coke with my specially requested glass of ice (I had to explain exactly what I wanted for a glass of ice to Wayne--no, not that tiny juice glass, a big glass--I almost took out my burger king cup, but I didn't want to get it dirty).  Wayne took our order and I paid $17 for breakfast on my credit card, since I hadn't exchanged any cash and they really didn't take my american money.  My credit card, sure.   Credit or debit?  Pin or Signature?  Can I see your id?  I heard that a lot over the next week, but I digress.

The amount for breakfast seemed kind of high, but I was so happy to get to sit down and eat something, I was happy to pay it.  AND a lady on the plane had told the people sitting next to me not to tip in Australia.  She said that everyone makes a living wage, so there's no tipping.  Adam had told me that the wages are really good--something like the minimum wage is $11 an hour and it goes up even for lower level jobs.  So I was happy to pay $17 (now that I think about it, Wayne probably gave us an employee discount or something).  We took our number and sat down in really comfortable chairs--they were like lounge chairs that you would curl up and read a book in at a table that was just the right height for the chairs.  And I got my diet coke over ice right away.  I was sooooo happy.  I was sooooo stupidly looking forward to my bacon and tomato on toast.  I don't know why I was completely unprepared for what I was served.  Did I not just fly for many, many thousands of miles to a different continent, a different hemisphere???  The bacon was rather lightly cooked pork--kind of like canadian bacon, with a lot of fat.  The tomatoes were cooked--hot even.  The toast was very thickly sliced and only toasted on one side.  I tentatively tried the bacon and it was not altogether unedible, so I ate it all.  Did I mention I was just off a 14 hour flight with nothing to eat or drink for 14 hours?  I also ate two pieces of toast, though a bit less enthousiastically than I usually eat bread (hands down my favorite food in the whole wide world--I often say that bread and butter are my dessert, but I digress).  I was very hungry and a little distracted, so that, yes I bit into a cooked tomato.  I'll never do that again.  Adam had some kind of breakfast wrap thing and he quickly cleaned his plate.  I was not done just sitting and relaxing, so I offered him the end of my bread and he cleaned my plate too.  I've so missed that.  Twenty-One years old and still a bottemless pit of a boy, but I digress.

When we couldn't justify hogging a perfectly good table with no food left on it any longer, we made our way over to the car rental stalls.  It was only about 7:30 a.m., so I was a little concerned that they might not be open.  I was renting from Thrifty.  There were five stalls and tucked in the middle was the sign for Thrify.  It appeared to be unmanned, but as we approached we could make out the blond head of a young guy sitting behind the high counter.  He was really quite hidden until you were right up to the counter.  He did not get up from his seat that was too low for the counter, but I gave him my name and confirmation number and he typed a few things in the computer and handed me a form to sign to say that there were no dents on the car.  But I haven't seen the car, I told him.  That's ok, he says, just a formality.  If I find anything, I should come right back and let him know.  Now I know what you are thinking--I'm a lawyer--no way am I signing a statement that there are no dents until I see for myself that there are no dents.  I'm just about ready to argue with the guy, when I realize--he's a kid.  He looks like a bored teenager, who'd rather be out surfing.  If I find a dent, I can take this kid in a fight (tired as I was) and get the form back from him.   Or maybe it was his accent.  He had just the slightest accent that sounded like (and looked a very little like) Lleyton Hewitt, my favorite Australian Tennis player.  You're on vacation, I told myself and I signed the form.  Do you have a map of the city, I asked that little kid.  Where do you want to go?  I said, well, we'll want to go all over the City, so if you just have a City map....  He handed me the equivilent of a Thomas Guide (though not quite so logical) for all of Australia--a very large, heavy book and said, just leave it in the car when you come back.  After I picked my jaw off the floor, I took the keys, confirmed the parking spot number and let the kid point me in the direction of the lot (right outside the terminal doors) to get the car.

As we were walking away, Adam said, you know the steering wheel is on the other side and you drive on the left, right.  There was a disbelief in his voice as if to say, do you actually realize what you are doing, renting a car in Australia.  Yes, I know.  Then he said, are you sure you got an automatic?  Yes, I paid more for a midsize automatic.  Ok.  Then I looked down at the very large book that was supposed to be a map.  Oh my.  Lions and tigers and bears.

Adam and I went back to say good-bye to Wayne (and all his co-workers called out to say good-bye to Adam--he later told me he just met them at a party a few weeks before, so their adulation was a bit over the top and Adam seemed a bit embarrassed by it.  My theory is that Adam is just such a nice person, he makes others feel comfortable right away, so that they feel a lot closer than they are in reality.  That's happened to me.  Did I mention the lady on the plane who told "me" that I didn't have to tip in Australia--she's my best friend in Australia, except for Adam, Wayne and their other roommate Jade and the jolly customs guy.  I'm very fond of the Thrifty rent a car kid, but I'm sure he forgot me right away--he's just a kid, but I digress.)

The car was exactly where we were directed to go and even though we were just talking about it, I went to the wrong door to drive.  Adam very politely offered to drive, but I declined--no, no--I can do it.  We switched sides and I got into the drivers side (Australian driver's side).  It took a little while, but I started the car and pulled out.  Adam reminded me to drive on the other side.  I had already forgotten and I was just starting.  So I got over, but I was convinced I was going to hit something, so I kind of stayed in the middle of the road.  Somehow--I don't know how, because I've blocked it out of my mind, I made it into the City.  We had to drive around and around trying to find my hotel.  We could see it, but you were not allowed to turn on the street from the street we were on, so we had to try to go around the block.  Except that it wasn't a block, it was a large park and then a hospital and we were right back on the street that we couldn't turn from onto the street.  After the second time around, I was starting to wonder if that is why I got the room so cheap. 

Eventually, we were able to drive past it, but there was no entrance for parking.  Eventually, back around we were able to find the entrance for parking--a very skinny alleyway.  The parking for the hotel was in a car elevator.  You backed into a spot and then they elevated your car to a different level so that someone else could park too.  You would have to get the attendent to get your car.  It was the weirdest thing and I was not comfortable driving on the wrong side, backing into an elevator in a rental car.  And I was still very tired (and not completely not hungry).  Still, I did it.  But I didn't do it very well, because the attendant wanted me to repark it.  I think that is the point that I handed Adam the keys and I never had to drive again.  That is not to say that Adam was not a bit timid--you try driving with a hysterical crazy aunt tuting her tongue and staring at you like you are about to crash and gripping the dashboard in a death grip.  Poor guy.  He did great.  I tried to tell him that even though none of my body language or actual language reflected it, I thought he was an excellent driver and I was very lucky that he was willing to drive, but I don't think he believed me.  It was not the first or the last time of the trip that he looked completely exasperated with me.

So we went into my hotel to check in, except I was four hours early for check in.  After waiting and waiting and waiting for my very rude check in clerk to talk to me (he is not anywhere on the list of my friends in Australia), we stowed my bags and set out to walk to Adam's apartment which he said was about three blocks away.  Now let me stop right here to explain that Adam's idea of a block and my idea of a block are not the same.  If you have to walk around three sides of a block, to Adam that is one block, to me that is three blocks.  So Adam was really nine blocks away, up hill.  I know that is not logical, but you try walking around Brisbane and then we'll talk.  At one point, after we'd been walking and walking and walking (or should I say, climbing and climbing and climbing--it was really all up hill), Adam said see that building over there (it was about two blocks away in my blocks), that is our grocery store and we live one block away from there.  I don't think so Jacko.  It was very clear to me that wrong side of the road or not, it was a darn good thing I rented a car even if we never left the City at all.

Stay tuned.  Next I visit Adam's apartment after having walked up hill for miles and miles (and don't forget I'm exhausted and not entirely not hungry), I get to walk up three floors (five flights of stairs) and then he has no furniture.  I am not a sit on the floor kind of girl (old woman).