Gladstone Visit

It's been a really long week in my world. It started off slow, with Monday being a holiday - the queen's birthday. Funny holiday. I'd do it if I were queen, I guess.

The weather was really nice over the long weekend and there was a strange little festival going on in neighboring Coolangatta. It was a "Rock N Roll" festival. I wish I would have gotten some photos, because I was amazed at the coming together of social groups. First there were the 50's baby boomer rockers dressed in poodle skirts and black jackets, who came to see 50's cover bands and Elvis lookalikes. Then there were the 50's car aficionados who came to show off their mint condition '57 Chevys and the like. That was kind of cool. But then there were also the '50s goth subset that (I don't know the proper term for them), the type who like to look like Betty Page and probably have a roller derby team. One of these types even had a hair styling booth, so you could get your very own '50s updo. There were also the Harley biker types, who caused a ruckus one night, I heard, resulting in a shooting or stabbing or something. I found it a really interesting mix of personality types.

The week really ramped up fast for a 2nd interview-type chat up in Gladstone on Wednesday. They booked my one-hour flight out of Brisbane at 9am and back at 4:30 the same day. I was nervous about missing my outgoing flight because you never know what the traffic is going to do here, so we spent the night in Brisbane Tuesday, so Wednesday wouldn't be as hellish. It was a good call, I think, since I had never been inside the Brisbane airport before, and was utterly confused by it. It would have been completely simple if I knew that:

A: the number listed on your boarding pass under "Gate" really isn't your gate number and
B: each airline has its own gate numbering system.

This confusion meant that I would end up walking the entire length of the Brisbane airport trying to find a non-existent Gate 60. At one point, I thought I'd never see the inside of an airplane. But with the help of random airport workers, I figured it out and made it on to the little plane on time.

The other odd thing about Australian airports is the security. I'm so used to flying in the US or internationally, that I didn't think it was possible to get on airplanes without showing ID to someone, but alas, it is. I wasn't checking baggage and I used the self service kiosk, so that makes some difference. But there is no ID check at the security gate, either. On the flight back, I didn't even go through a security gate at all, which I thought was completely unsettling, even though Gladstone (pronounced GLADstun, if you want to fit in) is a tiny town (around 30,000 population, I hear), with a grand total of 3 gates in the entire airport. At least pretend you're concerned about security... please!?

So it was a long day of talking (er... chatting) to people... this was not an interview I was told. I got a little tour of the area and the facilities that this regulatory agency regulates. Everyone seemed really lovely and friendly and I could definitely see myself working there, despite the small town environment... I've lived in Rolla, remember... I can do this! The next step for them is to double check my visa status with immigration. So that is great news.

I returned pretty exhausted, but had to keep up the momentum for a dinner date we had with Theo's Auntie and her partner. It was really good to get some hot sake into me after a long long day.

Since then, it's pretty much been recovery time and hopeful planning :) I'll keep you updated :)