Saturday, 16 March 2013
A scan of the incoming emails yesterday afternoon had revealed a nasty development as far as the evening's logistics were concerned, but it wasn't the sort of thing you could do too much about.
The long and short of it was that Queensland Rail were doing major work on the Shorncliffe line, and that passengers headed for stations after Eagle Junction would be bussed from Bowen Hills to wherever they were going. Considering the numbers on Thursday night, they're going to need a great wing of buses, and the return journey's going to be very interesting indeed.
Having been advised to allow an extra hour for the journey, I'm planning on heading out around three-thirty though the deity only knows when I'm likely to be returning to base.
With Madam headed off to the Tai Chi workshop around eight-twenty a leisurely morning was followed by a stroll down to Central and a quest for something reasonable in the lunch department.
Research had indicated the presence of a couple of Italian places that allegedly opened for lunch on Saturdays between the hotel and the riverside restaurant precinct, but the only one I managed to locate without heading right down to the water was closed, and I'd wandered along Queen Street as far as the mall in search of the others without success, so I figured I'd head through to Albert Street, check out a couple of options there and if all else failed there was always Pane e Vino, which I'd been to before and thoroughly enjoyed.
From time to time Madam has been known to comment on Hughesy's apparent aversion to heading for new pastures and grazing facilities, and I had made what I regarded as a bona fide attempt...
Pane e Vino had plenty of empty seats, so it seemed like the logical option. Garlic bread, pasta al funghi (ravioli in a creamy mushroom sauce) and a couple of glasses of red (Scarpatoni School Block SCM and Schild Estate Old Bush Vine GSM) went down very well and I made my back to The Rothbury a rather happy camper.
That happiness didn't extend as far as the logistical arrangements for the afternoon and evening, and I hung around in the hotel watching the ball by ball feed from Mohali, waiting to see if Starc could come up with what would have been a remarkable century. When he departed on 99 about eight minutes before the next train I did likewise, arriving at the appropriate platform as a train bound for Bowen Hills arrived.
Since there was a Shorncliffe service due to depart a minute later I watched most of the would be passengers climb aboard, then became suspicious when the Shorncliffe service failed to arrive. Shortly thereafter the PA advised passengers heading in that direction could take any train passing through Bowen Hills and the buses would take them on from there. It would have been nice to know that ten minutes earlier...
Still, once a Bowen Hills bound train arrived I was on my way, and the Bowen Hills end of affairs ran with a well oiled almost precision hat suggested most of those involved in running the show had plenty of experience in dealing with thee matters.
I found a seat on the relevant bus, and was joined just before departure by a youngish female wearing. Bruce shirt who was obviously very tired. The bus made its way around the couple of stations you come across before Boondall, with the driver evidently unsure of the navigational details. That provided an excuse to chat to the neighbours, who seemed to be Irish, had seen Bruce in the Emerald Isle and London, and had tried, unsuccessfully, to get tickets for Sydney on Monday, had got them for Brisbane and then been advised of the second and third Sydney shows.
She was rather enthusiastic about the whole Bruce experience, less impressed by the logistics and keen to get things rolling with an on-board singalong. those who have head Hughesy's tuneless attempts at vocalizing will Understand why I didn't rate this as a viable concept. We didn't really want passengers attempting to escape through the windows, did we?