Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not much of a city person. I’m partial to a day trip to London or a weekend break in Europe, but it’s rare that I find a city that I consider to be truly special. Brisbane, sadly, failed to make it onto my rather fastidious list of exceptions.
That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy my time there, I had a lovely couple of days, but I felt like the city was seriously lacking in a character that could distinguish it from all the other metropolises of the world. My first day was spent walking through the centre, consisting of all the major high street names, and riding the ferry up and down the river, taking in the skyline; with a few exceptions, like the impressive Story Bridge and the old Treasury Building, there is nothing particularly exciting to spot. That night myself and a few friends sampled one of the hundreds of ‘asian fusion’ restaurants in the city, then headed on a night out in Brisbane’s answer to Soho. I think it was primarily this first day that had me believing Brisbane was all style and no substance. I was struggling to find a personality amongst the suits and the skyscrapers.
The following day, I crossed the river to soak up some sun by the lagoon - the riverside pool and man-made beach which attempts to compensate for the city being set away from the coast (not Brisbane’s fault, of course, but disappointing for a beach bum like me). Here in south bank, I started to notice a little more charm than I had in the centre: tourists were seamlessly blending in with locals; the sound of buskers nearby broke through the chatter of friends hanging out in cafes and on the beach; and lines of market stalls were selling unique souvenirs and local produce. Finally, a real atmosphere! A sense of life, not just humdrum busyness.
The evening quickly came around again, and some friends and I travelled across town to the Powerhouse, a performing arts centre, to watch a comedy show. The show, annoyingly, turned out to be an old listing that hadn’t been taken off the website, so no laughs for us. However, we were determined to do anything but head back to the hostel, so we decided on a BBQ by the river. We swung by a supermarket to grab some sausages and got back on the ferry to Kangaroo Point. We set up in a really beautiful spot, right beside Story Bridge, which was adorned in red lights. By the time we’d arrived and set up the sun had long gone, and none of us had anticipated the drop in temperature, nor prepared for alfresco dining. Pardon my Aussie, but it was bloody freezing! It must have seemed pretty funny to onlookers, a bunch of tourists in t shirts and shorts, huddling around a BBQ that barely had enough heat to cook some sausages, let alone warm up four bodies.
However, standing there, admiring the lights shining in the cityscape, I began to realise why Brisbanites are so fond of their city. A local we got chatting with on the ferry summed it up perfectly: Brisbane is a wonderful place to live, but a boring place to visit. For a home, it’s got everything you could want and need to lead a fun, comfortable life. For a holiday, it fails to provide anything especially thrilling. I felt like I was finally warming up to it (metaphorically, I mean. Physically I was shivering and definitely turning blue), and started to regret that I had to leave the following morning. I guess first impressions aren’t everything after all, and some places just grow on you. It still hasn’t made it onto the list, though.
Stay tuned, next stop: Byron Bay.