So this is Brisbane, my transfer to Byron Bay. The second I land, I realise I have made a mistake by sacrificing all my plans in Queensland to save a few bucks and a week of my time. In reality there is no need to rush, but always I feel the pressure.
It grates on my soul.
Immediately, I miss the bus to Byron Bay. Naturally. The next one isn’t for 3.5 hours. Already my heart is heavy with the seedlings of regret, which only the Guild Rules prevent from germination; there is no way I am sitting in this airport all day.
I catch a bus to the city bus station. A quick check reveals that all the buses to Byron Bay have departed. Naturally. A plethora of phone calls later, I track down a single bus that departs from here at 20:30. It will get me into Byron late…but it gives me a day to explore Brisbane.
The first lady I see tells me Byron Bay is a shit hole. Naturally. “There’s nothing there” she advises, “Except fighting and the sea”.
Both these things are mighty. I conclude that this lady is weak of both mind and body, so I bid her farewell before she poisons me with her nay-saying and I am forced to kill her.
Quickly, I find lockers in which I can store my bag whilst I explore the city. Wonderful! They are all full…naturally. I rage quietly to myself.
But wait, what’s this? A trick! The lockers only open AFTER you have already paid for them. A mental note – trust nothing.
I lose $8 to the machine and start storing my stuff. Midway through, the locker locks me out. Naturally. Another dollar is sacrfised to the Gods of convenicnce. Finally, I am free of this burden.