Queensland Museum and Gravity

Queensland Museum and Gravity
Brisbane Roma Street, Australia

Brisbane Roma Street, Australia

I went to the museum. The Queensland museum; I didn’t make it to the art museum which is next door. It’s a free museum but with paid-for exhibits. At $25, that jars against the free entry for the Queensland bit, so I left the Treasures of Afghanistan exhibits alone.

The rest of the museum is a nice introduction to the state. I learned why the type of house I am in is unusual; Queensland houses have a space underneath, largely fenced in, which is used for storage of objects and cars, and often for kids to play in. Certainly the case here, there is all sorts of stuff down there, and a couple of cars gently rotting by the side. Exhibitions of flora and fauna show just how big a turtle can get, with a collectors’ exhibition giving some local colour.

They also talk about the economics; plenty of sheep and coal, it seems. Meanwhile, I was listening to the BBC’s Science Hour podcast. “The Germans are quite weird actually,” it said in my ear – commenting, in fact, on the prosaic subject of their changed attitude to nuclear energy, removing their own reactors, importing from France and switching to coal and gas instead. Which is nuts, of course. The next thing I saw in the museum was a timeline of Australian settlement; 25% of those shepherding in Queensland by 1856 were Germans. Their weirdness was uncommented upon.

I headed out into the sunshine and rode the riverboat back to Hawthorne, where my local cinema is, to be one of three people catching the 4.30 showing of Gravity. The first film I’ve seen that makes really good use of the 3d, it’s mesmerising and life-affirming.

The Moustache and Cricketers

The Moustache and Cricketers
Brisbane, Australia

Brisbane, Australia

That’s the name of my pub. I’m not sure where it’ll be opened, even to which country it’s most suited, but it will be magnificent, the ice sculptures legendary. I had a feverish night and woke up feeling better, if not fixed. I took some time to do my admin – which in the absence of anything harder to deal with means toenails and washing – and made my way to the South bank park area for mid afternoon.

Beach by the river, with cricketers posing behind a sand moustache
Aussie trio, with sand ‘tache.

Sat minding my own business I was content, interrupted only by a drunk Irishman checking everyone was alright – quietly, mind, no rampage. A flurry of activity on my left made me sit up, and there were (Australian cricketers) Johnson, Warner and Lehmann. I figured it for a charity shoot, realising belatedly that the sand sculpture I’d written off as arty was actually a large moustache – November is grow a moustache for the same charity every year month.


Interest was… muted. I’m far from having a representative sample, but people are not overly optimistic about their team’s chances. Thinking about it, though, no one has said England are good, just that Australia are “**** now, mate”. Warne and McGrath are a recent enough phenomenon that memories take precedence over rating the current team. Although, equally, the problem “isn’t the bowlers, mate”. Back at the beach, it was great to see the respect given to the trio, no one interfering beyond the occasional handshake and ‘good luck’, but with only 1s of people making their way over to take a picture, it would be fair to say the beach wasn’t stirred beyond a factor of 1.

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