PolioPlus Ride 2003

First Report

Brisbane is a city of roughly 1.6 million people, including the surrounds; more than the entire State of Maine. To me, its air feels subtropical at 70* and high humidity. I was thinking yesterday that last week it was 18* farenheight at home and then it was 18* centigrade when I got here. The City sits astride a river that winds in a serpentine-like fashion through its center. It is tidal… and runs tidal for 56 kilometers,

We arrived around 830 in the morning on the 26th. Already I’ve forgotten the day. My watch stays on Maine time just to keep me in perspective while I adjust, and advised of the civility of timing possible phone calls home. Of course we arrived at the hotel at 10am, hours before we could access our rooms, so, we went wandering. After 36 hours in transit, I wasn’t sure that’s what I wanted to do, but off we went.

We discovered that Brisbane has a tremendous public transit system. One ticket gets access to their busses, trains, and the great “City Cat” catamaran jet-boat ferry…. All of it, all day for one price (about $5 US). A short walk up river, or was it down? Under the freeway, with its brightly painted undercarriage, to the dock… On board, we zip up the river, zigzagging cross-stream from dock to dock, taking on and disembarking passengers. The pilot has the ability to land at the dock as if he’s maneuvering a VW Bug. The craft glides across the water like the wind with never a ripple. Conversation is easy and the only sounds we can hear is the breeze in our ears and the gentle hum of the twin engine jet drives. It is raining, but we stay on deck anyway… so warm and comforting to us, the nearly exhausted.

We decide to get off at the end point and look for a place to get a bite to eat before heading back We hadn’t met up until Auckland, and then only for about a half hour before boarding to Brisbane… wed did pose together for a photo, not sure if we could be called the four musketeers or the four stooges…. Pretty scruffy looking group…of course we didn’t sit together in flight either.

Bill - Bob - Jon - Walter at Auckland Airport

Bob sets the pace, leading the way, crutches and all. About 1/4 of a mile away we found a wonderful fish restaurant, Bretts Wharf, right on the river. Fish of all sorts… delicious Oysters and a taste of the local brew. I was amused by a flock of Pelicans fishing the river and to find out that the Aussies call the lobster “Bugs”… my fun nickname for our Maine Lobstah. Here’s it’s official: they ARE bugs! HA!! I am reprieved.

Back at the hotel, we get our rooms: I share with Jon Green; Bob shares with Walter Helm, 42 hours and 10,000 miles from home, I decide a nap is in order.

Two hours later we go exploring the downtown. It is now evening on a holiday weekend, not much is open, ‘Tis Anzac Day… remembering the battle of Gallipoli, Anzac Cove, Turkey, World War I, where they suffered terrible losses along with New Zealand and other British Forces. A remarkable patriotism is evident as is a tremendous respect for their armed forces… by and for both the young and the old.

Poking through the shops, I take mental inventory, having decided to buy nothing not absolutely necessary for the trip around the country. Souvenirs can be had when we’re
back in Brisbane on June 1st, helping rest our minds that we won’t get stuck in Darwin or someplace without sufficient funding to get gas or something just as necessary to get home. (We all agree that each of us will be posting things for sale on eBay when we get home… and maybe even have a yard sale or two) We have no true idea of what to expect from next week forward… except meeting with Rotarians and local press talking about driving Polio from this planet and the reason why this must be done. That is our goal and our only purpose, everything else is just details. The adventure has begun. Anything can happen.

It’s now 4AM here, 8PM on the day before at home in Maine, as I’m writing this, been up, wide awake for two hours… Today is Monday and we have loads to do including getting my 2-way radio permit from the Communications Authority, getting Bob’s motorcycle through customs and assembled, and finding a reasonable rental for the supply vehicle… for extra gas, water, & our luggage.

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