Occasionally I have the wisdom to follow my little collection of “notes to self.” One of which has been: “When crossing oceans to give workshops, give yourself a whole day to recover from jet lag before teaching.”
I arrived in Brisbane, Australia around 1 pm yesterday after
some 18 hours of flying and decided to treat myself to a nap. A five-hour nap.
Got up for dinner, went to bed at 10 pm, awoke at 2:30 am and I was ready for the
day! So prepared my speech for the University, whittled my e-mails down to
zero, played some disappointing Solitaire and disappeared for awhile in the
novel I’m reading. Breakfast at 8:00 am and out the door with the day before
me, no appointments to keep, no one to answer to but the whims of my traveling
feet. I was relaxed about not sleeping through the night knowing the day to
follow was wholly mine.
After breakfast, I set off to find the bus at the nearby shopping mall. I belief the designer of Australian roundabouts and malls
must be named Daedalus and learned his craft from the ancient Greek who built
the labyrinth. I twisted and turned through one windy path after another before
finally landing in the brightly-lit mall of Everywhere, World, with mostly the
same old stores selling the same old things hardly anyone needs. Note that the
ancient Greek labyrinth was designed to house the monstrous Minotaur, a
half-man, half-bull who was the offspring of a King Minos’s wife and a bull.
Because of this unnatural mating of woman and beast, the Minotaur had no
natural source of nourishment and so devoured humans for sustenance. There’s a
moral in here somewhere for the insatiable consumption the Malls encourage,
some unnatural creature who is slowly devouring us with its masked benevolent
smile.
But I digress.
I did find the bus and had a pleasant 25-minute ride into
downtown Brisbane and Queen St. Got off at another mall, escaped to the outdoor
pedestrian mall, much more pleasant, and started my aimless wander in hot
summer heat, but the blessing of some cloud cover. Stumbled into the Botanical
Gardens, saw a few lizards and banyan trees and jacaranda mimosas and lots of
long-beaked herons and egrets feeding the way birds seem to perpetually do. I
sat and savored a garden quiet interrupted by the banging of nearby
construction. Trees grow quietly, but high-rise building is a noisy affair.
Still, I enjoyed just sitting and then reading my book until an exercise group
surrounded me and started jumping rope and doing push-ups on my very bench!
Time to move on.
The Gardens went right to the edge of the river and there was a
lovely inviting path filled with joggers and bicyclists and a few leisurely
strollers like myself. And so stroll I did for an hour or so back and forth,
with a short break on a bench to do a Crostic puzzle. I lunched on a mushroom
burger with sweet potato fries at a Garden Café and then crossed the footbridge
to the other side and South Bank. And here things began to look familiar from
my two previous trips to Brisbane in 1996 and 2002. The beach right in the
city, the art museum, the rainforest path and more. I thought about other
riverside walks I’ve done in other cities—Salzburg, Prague, Budapest, Paris,
London. San Antonio, Portland, Memphis, Tampa. Bangkok, Istanbul, Suzhou. The
people flowing down the path, the water flowing down the river, it’s a happy
combination.
And so I passed a delightful day down by the riverside doing
nothing in particular and loving it all. Another half-an-hour after the return
bus lost in the maze of my own confusion before finally finding the hotel and
just in time, as the late afternoon rains began pouring down. Now in my
spacious studio apartment ready to plan tomorrow’s University classes and keep
myself up until 10, happy to have laid down my sword and shield down by the
riverside and passed a peaceful day in blissful jet-lagged solitude.
Just wanted to say what an amazing workshop we had with you this afternoon at Griffith. Was so eye opening to how something so simple as the months of the year can involve so many senses and learning outcomes.
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