Fate Has Yet to Reveal Her Hand, So Play On

The footpath on our side of the Story Bridge was closed for maintenance so we diverted down to the riverside, riding up the boardwalk until we found that too was undergoing repairs. We had to ascend to Eagle Street and found ourselves in the cut and thrust of the city traffic, where cars impatiently overtake your little bike only for you to catch up with them again at the next traffic lights. All very Urban Jungle and survival of the fittest I'm sure, and I could probably make crude references to the forest of steel and long straight roads and how they might reinforce the self-impotentimportant gentleman's propensities for alpha-male displays of "prowess" and uncompromise, and it's true that when you're among the towers you can feel like you've suddenly arrived in the cut-and-thrust, with a little squirt from just above the kidneys turning into a suffusing flush, a slight widening of the eyes perhaps and maybe this is a race and it is important to get away from the traffic lights first but oh.... here we are at the Botanic Gardens

and... Relax.

A week or so ago we'd been a little river trip with my buddy Claire and her daughter Georgia and ended up at the newly renovated playgrounds here at the Botty Gardens. Unfortunately Lyra had fallen asleep and remained asleep until after time dictated that we leave, so I was glad to have coincidentally turned up here again to stop for a play and a snack.

The playground was good and Lyra enjoyed being awake in it; so much so that she didn't really want to get back onto the bike. But remaining at the playground, even one of unimpeachable quality such as this, was not an option and press on we must. We weaved/wove (you decide and let me know) our way among the pedestrians and the joggers up onto the Goodwill Bridge and onto South Bank where we briefly saw Janelle hosing her spray over the new formal gardens before stopping off at the Gallery of Modern Art to play on the escalators.

Then more snacks outside where I found a very nice Nokia phone, unlocked and open for use, which of course being the honest, morally upright and frankly good person that I am, I handed into the restaurant.

And on, over the Kurilpa Bridge, back to the North Side, each pedal bringing us a little closer to our doom.