A good meeting, a strange meeting and a WTF!!!

Just prior to arriving in Brisbane Norman and I stopped over for a night with a fellow cyclist in the suburb of Beenleigh. We had met Stephen in a park a few days earlier in the town of Lismore. I was supposed to be watching the bikes while Norman went into the information centre but like a bad soldier had fell asleep at my post. I had lay down on the bench and drifted off with the soothing wind blowing and a full belly of food. A kind of sixth sense of someone standing near by had woken me from my slumber and I sat up quickly startling the nearby person. It took a few seconds to get my bearings and still half asleep noticed a gentleman standing a couple of meters away looking at Norman’s bicycle. Can I help you I asked? The man, who looked as startled as myself said “sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up, I was just admiring the set ups you are using”. He introduced himself as Stephen from Brisbane, a fellow cycle tourist currently not riding but in town with work. Norman had seen all this as he was coming back and he joined the conversation. To be honest he actually led the conversation as I was still half dozing. Stephen has been on a few tours and had a house south of Brisbane and gave us his details to use when we would be passing through. A couple of days later we arrived at his house and were made to feel very welcome. Hot showers, dinner, deserts, good conversations and comfortable sleeping areas. It never fails to amaze me the hospitality shown by strangers in foreign countries just through an interest in why we cycle. When we arrived in Brisbane city after leaving Stephen’s we had the always difficult task of negotiating the city centre to our next destination. However long it should take you to ride a certain distance you can add two hours on to it for a downtown ride. Heat, traffic, lights, noise and directions just get more intense and make what is maybe easy for a local incredibly hard for a tourist. We were doing a decent job of negotiating the CBD and once we hit the amazing bicycle paths the route towards the edge of the city became quite enjoyable. 

We found a good route towards the river and headed along a long straight road when I looked to my left and saw a young lady waving her arms at me and asking for help. I had to do a quick check behind for a gap in the traffic as we were still on a busy road but soon I was cycling over to see what was wrong. The girl was on crutches with one leg in a big hospital boot standing over a disability scooter that was lying on its side. Lying on the floor was an elderly lady stuck with one leg wedged underneath. Her dress was up and her bag was scattered on the ground beside her. I realised quickly that she had been trying to get up a drop in the curb but had overshot it and done a two wheel Dukes of Hazard trick but gone all the way over. I dropped my bike, knelt down and asked if she could move. She screamed back “The f£&king floor is burning me”. Shocked at her comment but still trying to ascertain if she had broken anything I noticed her hand was twisted and her fingers were all crumpled together. Have you broken your wrist? I asked. “No, it’s always like that now get me off the pavement”. At this point Norman had come over and his work as a firefighter led him to comment that he was going to call an ambulance. “I don’t need a F()king ambulance just get me off the ground I’m burning”. We turned the scooter back onto it’s wheels, helped the lady back into it collected her bag and belongings and moved her into the shade so we could check her without her cooking to death. The girl on the crutches passed me a big plastic bag that also belonged to the lady. Inside was a box about 2ft square and quite heavy. Once she was back on the scooter she put her handbag on the foot area, hooked the plastic bag over the handlebar with the box wedged between her legs, pulled away and drove off along the footpath. Left behind were three confused people. An Englishman, an American and a Australian with a broken leg. Norman returned home to the USA a couple of days ago after being with me for 3 weeks. We had stayed with my friends Andrew and Paul which gave him a perfect chance to sort his return flights to Sydney then San Francisco. It had been a pleasure to cycle with him. No stress, good banter and new tips for both of us. I’ll miss the mealtime conversation, the relaxed cycling attitude and his stories. I’ll even miss the language barrier which meant I had to say most things twice. (Joke). At Andrew and Paul’s bungalow I took the front bedroom with it’s amazing bed, ceiling fan and big window facing out to the driveway and next to the front door. Last night I had been reading my book and had dozed off after a beautiful dinner. The blinds and window were open but the insect guard was shut. This means I can see out, people can see in, the bugs can’t get in the room but I can hear everything outside. Around 4am I was woken by a light. Not a street light but a camera phone light flash right outside the window aimed at me. As the light flashed again I could see the silhouette of a person holding up a phone. I shot forward and said, hey, the fuck you doing? The person almost jumped out of their skin. I heard back, “I’m sorry mate I have just delivered a package for Mr Gills (my host). Sorry I woke you I didn’t notice the window. The photo is too prove the parcel has been dropped and the condition it is in when left”. Dropped off I said, it’s 4am. I heard back as he walked off.....shit hours eh.