Brisbane and Anzac Day

Monday was Anzac Day. Dawn procession of soldiers old and young, and lots of family members and others. We didn't attend; not our thing. Back in the late 70's and early 80's, I was part of a feminist protest group who attempted to march each year "in memory of women raped in war". We were, of course, not welcome, but we gathered quite a bit of media attention, especially if the authorities started arresting the protesters. We went to the airport in a taxi (no shuttle buses on weekends or holidays). Upon paying the fare (less than $20), I remarked to Eric that this confirmed my contention that the taxi driver who had taken us from the airport to the hotel the previous weekend had deliberately taken a roundabout route and thus overcharged us by quite a bit. I had failed to confront the driver at the time, and forgot completely to take his number so I could report him to the taxi authorities. Instead of going directly home, we were staying two nights in Brisbane. We couldn't get a cheap fare out of Canberra that would connect to a flight to our home airport, so we decided that rather than spending just one night in Brisbane, we'd make a shopping trip out of it as well. The weather that afternoon was most pleasant, so after checking in to our hotel (the Soho, on Wickham Terrace, Spring Hill), we strolled down the hill to the Queen Street Mall -- full of people enjoying the day, as we were -- and ate a huge meal at the Sizzler's restaurant, where I enjoyed not only the salad buffet, but this time the dessert bar. (Apple crumble with soft-serve ice cream is not recommended for low-carb diets any more than pancakes are.) On Wednesday we set out again, visiting Silk Road, the "adventure outfitters" where I buy my good hiking boots. Eric needed a lightweight jacket to replace his silk one, which is literally falling apart; he found one there on sale. Then we walked around downtown Brisbane a bit more before gorging ourselves once again at Sizzler's. Thursday we flew home.