Northerners of an antique vintage will recall a time when the fabled city centre of Brisneyland was but a dream, and none but the hardiest of fools ventured far from home and hearth. This was the era of making your own fun because any other kind was prohibited by criminal statute (as was any form of fun, to be honest).
To understand the dearth of diversions at that time, look at the local underground radio station 4ZZZ’s nightly What’s On segment, which mostly featured a couple of morbidly stoned anarchists riffling through the so-called entertainment pages of the Courier Mail with one asking the other: “So, uh, what’s happening?” To which the other would eventually, inevitably reply: “Uh, not much.”
…
Brisbane in those days was the sort of bizarro-world colonial backwater where you were required to dress in jodhpurs and a white tux for a sitdown breakfast at even the lower middling sort of gentleman’s club, but the maitre dude would not look twice if you fetched a rustically carved ironbark whisker brush from your saddle bags and commenced vigorously scrubbing your muttonchop dandruff into the fruit salad.
Good article, JB. The only thing I would have added was, in the early days, just about the whole of Brisbane was wandering around lost in the place. “ In shopping mall design, the Gruen Transfer is the moment when consumers enter a shopping mall or store and, surrounded by an intentionally confusing layout” lose all sense of orientation and direction. The Myer Centre over-achieved on this. There wasn’t a straight line in the place and it was hard to get a sense of its overall structure or, after a very short distance, what was the direction of the entrance you came in. The actual Myer store in the Myer Centre was particularly good at this. Fifteen innocuous paces in and your couldn’t look back and see the entrance. What direction was it? Hang on, I’m sure it was a wide entrance I walked thru. Why can’t I find it? The whole place was like a crab pot. Once you went in, it was very hard to find your way out. I remember talking to a construction worker while it was being built. He said, Wait till you see it. I’ve been working on it for months and I’m still getting lost.
Eventually, they improved the sight lines in the place. I guess they got sick of dealing with traumatised shoppers who had been wandering about in there for days.
Speaking of bizzaro-world: that (beautifully written) article hit me very odd. I actually lived in Brisbane at the time (1988), and I can confidently say that not only do I not remember a dragon roller-coaster, I don't recall having ever heard of it. I didn't go into town much: my entire world existed on a Toowong/St Lucia axis as I ground through the final couple of years of my double degree. When I went out it was to see a band in the Valley or smilar. I do vaguely remember the Myer Center as the thing that sat on top of the bus interchange. Never went there. Guess I missed quite a thing.
I loved the Myer centre when I moved to Brisbane in 94, the mall and the Embassy hotel, 4 floors of bands, DJs and bars. I couldn't believe how full the buses and trains were on Friday nights. Coming from Auckland brisvegas was great for a night out, peaceful and friendly. But the old Brisbane of yore could easily be found, sometimes it was the obnoxious lazy cops and other times it was people stopping on motorway on ramps waiting to get on, unable to learn how to merge.
Some of us grew up in a town so small, building a 4 storey building was a big deal.
Reminds me of Wagga Wagga back in the early 90s. At least Wagga didn't claim to be a major city.
Good article, JB. The only thing I would have added was, in the early days, just about the whole of Brisbane was wandering around lost in the place. “ In shopping mall design, the Gruen Transfer is the moment when consumers enter a shopping mall or store and, surrounded by an intentionally confusing layout” lose all sense of orientation and direction. The Myer Centre over-achieved on this. There wasn’t a straight line in the place and it was hard to get a sense of its overall structure or, after a very short distance, what was the direction of the entrance you came in. The actual Myer store in the Myer Centre was particularly good at this. Fifteen innocuous paces in and your couldn’t look back and see the entrance. What direction was it? Hang on, I’m sure it was a wide entrance I walked thru. Why can’t I find it? The whole place was like a crab pot. Once you went in, it was very hard to find your way out. I remember talking to a construction worker while it was being built. He said, Wait till you see it. I’ve been working on it for months and I’m still getting lost.
Eventually, they improved the sight lines in the place. I guess they got sick of dealing with traumatised shoppers who had been wandering about in there for days.
Speaking of bizzaro-world: that (beautifully written) article hit me very odd. I actually lived in Brisbane at the time (1988), and I can confidently say that not only do I not remember a dragon roller-coaster, I don't recall having ever heard of it. I didn't go into town much: my entire world existed on a Toowong/St Lucia axis as I ground through the final couple of years of my double degree. When I went out it was to see a band in the Valley or smilar. I do vaguely remember the Myer Center as the thing that sat on top of the bus interchange. Never went there. Guess I missed quite a thing.
I loved the Myer centre when I moved to Brisbane in 94, the mall and the Embassy hotel, 4 floors of bands, DJs and bars. I couldn't believe how full the buses and trains were on Friday nights. Coming from Auckland brisvegas was great for a night out, peaceful and friendly. But the old Brisbane of yore could easily be found, sometimes it was the obnoxious lazy cops and other times it was people stopping on motorway on ramps waiting to get on, unable to learn how to merge.
Forget about it Jake,
It's Brisvagus