Those of you who see my status updates on Facebook and Twitter will know that our sea freight delivery wasn't without it's hiccups. We had a missing box - which was found and delivered, however when it was delivered it didn't include all the items I expected. Most importantly it didn't include the best of my yarn stash, some books and software I wanted, and from Nick's perspective the home theatre and projector remote controls.
We had left 5 smaller boxes, all labelled Christmas decorations, in storage. As they were the last to be packed and were fragile it seemed possible that the yarn and remotes had been packed with them. So I arranged with Crown to go and pick them up when I was out that way. This took two attempts as the first time I headed that way, when I had picked up Ana from the airport, we had a call to say there was a gas leak down the street and they had been evacuated. So the next available time was last Monday heading home from our trip to NZ.
Lo and behold what should happen when we got there, but they had found an extra large box that had apparently been missed in the first delivery. They were a little embarrassed about this (not surprisingly) so were very helpful about letting me open the boxes and check for what we were looking for. The large box had several of the things I anticipated arriving several weeks ago including yarn, software, jewellary and nail polish - but sadly -no remotes! Nor does it appear that they are in the smaller boxes either. While I am going to appeal to my children for them to check I am beginning to wonder if I have inadvertently thrown them out with all the packing materials. I don't think I did as I was looking for them from quite early on.
Anyway back to the mystery box which came home with us. It was almost the straw that broke the camel's back of my finding places for everything! It sat half full most of the week while I tried to work out where I would put everything. It probably didn't help that there was an element of
"not sure I really needed this" for a number of items. If I wasn't working full time I'd have been delighted at the extra sewing materials and patterns but as it is they seemed a touch superfluous. Today I sat down with the quilting magazines and extracted only the pages I wanted which reduced the pile substantially. I also sorted through a couple of boxes I'd already put away (again checking for the elusive remotes) and discovered they could be consolidated a bit.
And on a humorous note - Jon was fretting about his Nintendo DS being in the boxes we were going to collect. However when we mentioned this in his elder brother's presence on Friday night while we were in New Zealand, Toby promptly told us that no in wasn't in the boxes it was in his room at the flat; he'd "rescued" it when he saw we'd left it behind. I'm obviously now hoping he may have rescued the remotes as well :)
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Stop the clocks
The first image of the Christchurch earthquake that scored a direct hit to the heart for me was the Victoria St clock which had stopped at 4.35 a.m. when the earthquake hit. Largely because it was instantly recognisable, unlike the early images of devastation which just didn't seem to compute.
Most of my friends know that, if asked, I'm a Canterbury girl. I went to school and university in Christchurch, was married there, had my first baby there. The majority of my extended family live there or within it's environs. So on the morning of September 4, when I woke to a text from a friend in Sydney to say she hoped my family were OK after the earthquake, never mind the clocks - my heart stopped. All my family were OK, as were the many friends old and new. But it has been really hard being in Brisbane and so far away.
Which is another part of the reason the clocks (I've now seen a similar photo of a the Railway Station clock) seem so symbolic. That poem used in Four Weddings and a Funeral "Stop all the clocks" is evocative of living somewhere where life goes on when at heart you are in a different place. While I live with the nagging concerns of what the next round of aftershocks might bring and the magnitude of what has happened in a city I love, here everyone goes on oblivious. Certainly I have met with concern from people I work with but for them it is all so far away - and while we are incredibly thankful nobody died...well...nobody died.
But as another friend from Canterbury commented - our memories are interwoven with the urban landscape they took place in. I had seen the pictures of the Rep Theatre several times before someone on Facebook said to me "that's the Rep Theatre" and I was overwhelmed that the damage was such I hadn't even recognised somewhere I had many memories of. And the Railway Clock - how many times did I look up at that while lugging a heavy suitcase down the road to catch the train home from boarding school!
Many of the older buildings, particularly the churches, around where we live were built at a similar time to central Christchurch. Last night, when I was out getting takeaways for dinner, I found myself irrationally annoyed that the church I went past was totally undamaged and untouched by what had happened an ocean away. It was so totally unwarranted but also symbolic of how worried many of us are not just for our friends and family but for the heart of our city that represents the generations that built it.
So to everyone in Christchurch - we are with you in spirit - we can't begin to imagine the ongoing stress of the aftershocks, and the tediousness of the days ahead as the time required for proper repairs eats away at your patience. But we hold you in our hearts, we are proud of what you are achieving, and share your sorrow over what the earth has done to our beautiful city.
Most of my friends know that, if asked, I'm a Canterbury girl. I went to school and university in Christchurch, was married there, had my first baby there. The majority of my extended family live there or within it's environs. So on the morning of September 4, when I woke to a text from a friend in Sydney to say she hoped my family were OK after the earthquake, never mind the clocks - my heart stopped. All my family were OK, as were the many friends old and new. But it has been really hard being in Brisbane and so far away.
Which is another part of the reason the clocks (I've now seen a similar photo of a the Railway Station clock) seem so symbolic. That poem used in Four Weddings and a Funeral "Stop all the clocks" is evocative of living somewhere where life goes on when at heart you are in a different place. While I live with the nagging concerns of what the next round of aftershocks might bring and the magnitude of what has happened in a city I love, here everyone goes on oblivious. Certainly I have met with concern from people I work with but for them it is all so far away - and while we are incredibly thankful nobody died...well...nobody died.
But as another friend from Canterbury commented - our memories are interwoven with the urban landscape they took place in. I had seen the pictures of the Rep Theatre several times before someone on Facebook said to me "that's the Rep Theatre" and I was overwhelmed that the damage was such I hadn't even recognised somewhere I had many memories of. And the Railway Clock - how many times did I look up at that while lugging a heavy suitcase down the road to catch the train home from boarding school!
Many of the older buildings, particularly the churches, around where we live were built at a similar time to central Christchurch. Last night, when I was out getting takeaways for dinner, I found myself irrationally annoyed that the church I went past was totally undamaged and untouched by what had happened an ocean away. It was so totally unwarranted but also symbolic of how worried many of us are not just for our friends and family but for the heart of our city that represents the generations that built it.
So to everyone in Christchurch - we are with you in spirit - we can't begin to imagine the ongoing stress of the aftershocks, and the tediousness of the days ahead as the time required for proper repairs eats away at your patience. But we hold you in our hearts, we are proud of what you are achieving, and share your sorrow over what the earth has done to our beautiful city.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
My first Australian employment experience
It's the end of day three of my Australian working life and it seems timely to share (tactfully) some first impressions. I'll probably come back tomorrow and add in some pics because they will be worth a thousand words in this case.
Most of my Wellington readers will instantly get a totally false impression when I tell you I am on a three month contract at Queensland State Archives. They will instantly think of National Archives and coffee meetings in the cafe which is the polar opposite of State Archives here.
The two buildings are huge and surrounded by - parkland isn't quite the word - as while it is lovely, probably regenerating, bushland (none of the trees are very big) it isn't cultivated in the way the word parkland implies. You feel like you are miles from anywhere though. There are 96 linear kilometres of storage in the buildings and just under half of that is full. When you come in the staff entrance the first door is to the staff room and that is the ONLY place on site you can have food and drinks other than bottled water. They are obsessive about preventing pests. So you drop off your lunch etc before you go anywhere.
That was probably the first major culture shock - unlike the NZ public service, and most other employers, here tea, coffee, milk and sugar etc are not provided - you have to bring your own. Did I mention that Archives is in the middle of nowhere? The second shock which may be unique to this context are work hours, you aren't allowed to start before 8 a.m and if you are still in the building by 6 p.m. security will escort you out. There are two standard working days 8.30 - 4.15 and 9.15 - 5.00 with two ten minute tea breaks and 30 minutes for lunch. It gets drummed into contractors that you are not to work more than 8 hours in a day as you get time and a half!
Back in NZ I had heard it said that hours aside, the NZ public service works harder than most countries and Education's expectations in terms of projects managed per staff member is higher than most. After three days I'm already going a bit stir crazy because I have one piece of a project to progress. There is the equivalent of two senior policy analysts, and two senior advisors working pretty much full time on implementing a single initiative. They are behind because of staff turn over and related issues, which is where I've come in, but to be honest I'm kind of wondering what I'm going to do next week.
It helps that the Senior Archivist likes the "short story" but I've already whipped out the overdue comms plan to final draft stage, tested and content reviewed a new website subsection (and yes I think the vendor was a little startled to get full test feedback, web standards compliance requests and technical challenges) and drafted a submission to the Director General. And gone through a full induction process and been trained in the electronic document management system. The degree of surprise at what I've already produced wasn't entirely unexpected, but today I realised that the luxury of only having to get my head around ONE initiative had a huge part to play. But lets face it - it could well have a huge part to play in my being bored to tears inside another week!
Last but not least I've realised how much making a hot drink is a ritual when I'm settling into a piece of work. Having to get up and go and have coffee and FINISH it before I go back to my desk is really difficult. The HR person who did the induction commented she drinks far more water than she ever did and I've noticed I'm doing the same. I am a bit concerned though about how I'll do with the email announcements I have to write tomorrow which would normally require a decent latte to mull over as I write. I may end up talking to my manager about taking my laptop down to the staff room when I need to write creatively!
Most of my Wellington readers will instantly get a totally false impression when I tell you I am on a three month contract at Queensland State Archives. They will instantly think of National Archives and coffee meetings in the cafe which is the polar opposite of State Archives here.
The two buildings are huge and surrounded by - parkland isn't quite the word - as while it is lovely, probably regenerating, bushland (none of the trees are very big) it isn't cultivated in the way the word parkland implies. You feel like you are miles from anywhere though. There are 96 linear kilometres of storage in the buildings and just under half of that is full. When you come in the staff entrance the first door is to the staff room and that is the ONLY place on site you can have food and drinks other than bottled water. They are obsessive about preventing pests. So you drop off your lunch etc before you go anywhere.
That was probably the first major culture shock - unlike the NZ public service, and most other employers, here tea, coffee, milk and sugar etc are not provided - you have to bring your own. Did I mention that Archives is in the middle of nowhere? The second shock which may be unique to this context are work hours, you aren't allowed to start before 8 a.m and if you are still in the building by 6 p.m. security will escort you out. There are two standard working days 8.30 - 4.15 and 9.15 - 5.00 with two ten minute tea breaks and 30 minutes for lunch. It gets drummed into contractors that you are not to work more than 8 hours in a day as you get time and a half!
Back in NZ I had heard it said that hours aside, the NZ public service works harder than most countries and Education's expectations in terms of projects managed per staff member is higher than most. After three days I'm already going a bit stir crazy because I have one piece of a project to progress. There is the equivalent of two senior policy analysts, and two senior advisors working pretty much full time on implementing a single initiative. They are behind because of staff turn over and related issues, which is where I've come in, but to be honest I'm kind of wondering what I'm going to do next week.
It helps that the Senior Archivist likes the "short story" but I've already whipped out the overdue comms plan to final draft stage, tested and content reviewed a new website subsection (and yes I think the vendor was a little startled to get full test feedback, web standards compliance requests and technical challenges) and drafted a submission to the Director General. And gone through a full induction process and been trained in the electronic document management system. The degree of surprise at what I've already produced wasn't entirely unexpected, but today I realised that the luxury of only having to get my head around ONE initiative had a huge part to play. But lets face it - it could well have a huge part to play in my being bored to tears inside another week!
Last but not least I've realised how much making a hot drink is a ritual when I'm settling into a piece of work. Having to get up and go and have coffee and FINISH it before I go back to my desk is really difficult. The HR person who did the induction commented she drinks far more water than she ever did and I've noticed I'm doing the same. I am a bit concerned though about how I'll do with the email announcements I have to write tomorrow which would normally require a decent latte to mull over as I write. I may end up talking to my manager about taking my laptop down to the staff room when I need to write creatively!
Friday, August 20, 2010
Anticipation is everything
On Friday we finally got confirmation that our sea freight would be delivered on Monday. It had taken a bit of pleading for that to happen as I start work Tuesday and had already informed my new employer I'd be working some four day weeks due to prior commitments. I really didn't want to add another half day for the freight delivery, especially as it was already heading for five weeks late.
Anyway I've noticed that in the last 24 hours I've had a constant low buzz of excitement over all our things arriving. It probably helps that Nick flew out to New Zealand yesterday and wont be back until next Friday. He's very anxious about where we are going to put everything, and while the number of boxes concerns me (40 odd) I know what I packed and am pretty sure it should be OK. For instance I know that my one box of Christmas decorations took four boxes to pack in tissue etc (they are going into storage) I also know as the Sallies, Vinnies and my children's flat can attest that there was a serious cull of our kitchen and linen cupboards as well as the bookcases.
Today I've been sorting through the cupboards moving excess and extras to a couple of high inaccessible shelves and a cupboard that is so difficult to open, Nick didn't even realise it existed! When the movers packed I'd reduced our kitchen to one of the double cupboards under the wooden bench plus a shelf of storage containers in the pantry. I've easily cleared that much space in the kitchen already. The plan is to have it all sorted and put away before he gets back Friday, with the exception of his projector and home theatre system. And in the meantime I'm anticipating the pleasure of not having to make do.
We have already developed a bit of routine on Saturday mornings - housework and changing beds, laundry and then off to the market. This morning as I was about to strip the bed, I realised I could wait until Monday when my high count cotton sheets arrived, I couldn't find a clean tea towel (we only have three and Jon had used two to wipe up a spill) and remembered that the I had packed some (including the cool NZ themed ones from the Blendy boxes). I was making breakfast thinking only two more days and I'll have my coffee machine and grinder - need I say more?
Then as I walked through the market I went to stop at a couple of places to look for a vintage tablecloth and a couple of pieces of cheap jewelry, and remembered "my stuff will be here Monday!" All my jewelry, all my shoes, all my nail polish (well except for the ones my daughters sneaked off with) my full size skin care products, the rest of my work clothes, the flower vases, the decorative things made or gifted by good friends. The fabric of a living space that will move our black and white apartment from a hotel to home.
As for Jon - he keeps asking when his takahe cushion will arrive, and his DS, and his books, and the rest of his DVD's and games. He's also looking forward to having his bike. He wanted to have a friend stay the night and I could suggest next weekend when he will have all his things including sleeping bags etc.
And last but not least - there's the expectation of opening boxes and finding things I'd missed without even being fully aware of it and knowing we are one step closer to "settling in".
Anyway I've noticed that in the last 24 hours I've had a constant low buzz of excitement over all our things arriving. It probably helps that Nick flew out to New Zealand yesterday and wont be back until next Friday. He's very anxious about where we are going to put everything, and while the number of boxes concerns me (40 odd) I know what I packed and am pretty sure it should be OK. For instance I know that my one box of Christmas decorations took four boxes to pack in tissue etc (they are going into storage) I also know as the Sallies, Vinnies and my children's flat can attest that there was a serious cull of our kitchen and linen cupboards as well as the bookcases.
Today I've been sorting through the cupboards moving excess and extras to a couple of high inaccessible shelves and a cupboard that is so difficult to open, Nick didn't even realise it existed! When the movers packed I'd reduced our kitchen to one of the double cupboards under the wooden bench plus a shelf of storage containers in the pantry. I've easily cleared that much space in the kitchen already. The plan is to have it all sorted and put away before he gets back Friday, with the exception of his projector and home theatre system. And in the meantime I'm anticipating the pleasure of not having to make do.
We have already developed a bit of routine on Saturday mornings - housework and changing beds, laundry and then off to the market. This morning as I was about to strip the bed, I realised I could wait until Monday when my high count cotton sheets arrived, I couldn't find a clean tea towel (we only have three and Jon had used two to wipe up a spill) and remembered that the I had packed some (including the cool NZ themed ones from the Blendy boxes). I was making breakfast thinking only two more days and I'll have my coffee machine and grinder - need I say more?
Then as I walked through the market I went to stop at a couple of places to look for a vintage tablecloth and a couple of pieces of cheap jewelry, and remembered "my stuff will be here Monday!" All my jewelry, all my shoes, all my nail polish (well except for the ones my daughters sneaked off with) my full size skin care products, the rest of my work clothes, the flower vases, the decorative things made or gifted by good friends. The fabric of a living space that will move our black and white apartment from a hotel to home.
As for Jon - he keeps asking when his takahe cushion will arrive, and his DS, and his books, and the rest of his DVD's and games. He's also looking forward to having his bike. He wanted to have a friend stay the night and I could suggest next weekend when he will have all his things including sleeping bags etc.
And last but not least - there's the expectation of opening boxes and finding things I'd missed without even being fully aware of it and knowing we are one step closer to "settling in".
Monday, August 9, 2010
And then I turned out the lights
So I'm just coming to the end of a really quick trip to NZ - it was a trip that wasn't absolutely essential, but I'm very glad I made. The back story was that our house was finally rented and there was a list of minor tasks that would be more easily completed on the ground than by remote.
So with the a bit of juggling to make sure I had a full business day in NZ that was unlikely to be used for job interviews (Tuesday and Wednesday are holidays for the Queensland public service - Tuesday is the equivalent of show/anniversary day) and that I was back for the public holidays cos Nick wanted to do some trips - I booked some cheap flights on Tuesday and was here Saturday at midnight.
As a couple of friends I visited with commented - most of the tasks were about closure. It was about seeing the doors were painted, the carpet cleaned, the tiling and plastering finished - but it was also about catching up with good friends who'd been away when I left, taking my mother in law out for the afternoon tea I had to bail on my last day in NZ, and closing off some final bits and pieces that had been preying on my mind.
Probably the funniest detail was the little bit of plastic that slots into the freezer door and connects it to the cupboard door (it's built in). I had broken it away from the screws on the Monday I left Wellington and had been unable to track down a replacement (and not for lack of trying in Christchurch) It was still lying on the floor of the car and when I reached over to pick it up to put in my bag, it suddenly occurred to me that all I needed to do was turn it around and drill new holes on the other end. I actually didn't do the drilling - that was Ana's new BF (a builder) who was putting the door handles back onto the door they'd painted for me - it took all of five minutes to resolve an issue I'd been fretting about for almost seven weeks!
I was pleased when I walked into the house yesterday afternoon that it still "felt" (and smelled) OK. This morning it was freezing and the first thing I did was turn on the heaters for fifteen minutes. It was lovely to walk in from checking something outside to a heater warmed room - the weird things you miss in the land of perpetual summer. This evening it was getting dark and I decided to do the thing Nick hates and turned on EVERY light in the house. Then as I did a final cupboard check, dust and vacuum I turned off each light, and so our house gradually went dark. I'm not convinced we are quite finished with this house yet but even so, as I turned off each light I had a moment to remember the memories for each room and say goodbye. The kitchen took three goes - and one of the very last things I did was polish the bench.
And when the last light was turned out and I shut the outside door - there was a sudden squall of heavy rain which kind of matched my mood.
Over pizzas at their place the girls commented that it must have been sad given how perfect it all was - the new paint, the new curtains, the door etc, and we didn't get to enjoy it. As you can imagine that hadn't even crossed my mind - the sadness was about leaving a space where people had lived and closing the door on over seven years of memories being made.
I had to stop by again on the way to the supermarket with Toby, as I had needed a torch for the final gas reading. And already a couple of hours later - the closure of a task completed had set in and I was focusing on my trip back tomorrow to a place I already can begin to think of as home.
So with the a bit of juggling to make sure I had a full business day in NZ that was unlikely to be used for job interviews (Tuesday and Wednesday are holidays for the Queensland public service - Tuesday is the equivalent of show/anniversary day) and that I was back for the public holidays cos Nick wanted to do some trips - I booked some cheap flights on Tuesday and was here Saturday at midnight.
As a couple of friends I visited with commented - most of the tasks were about closure. It was about seeing the doors were painted, the carpet cleaned, the tiling and plastering finished - but it was also about catching up with good friends who'd been away when I left, taking my mother in law out for the afternoon tea I had to bail on my last day in NZ, and closing off some final bits and pieces that had been preying on my mind.
Probably the funniest detail was the little bit of plastic that slots into the freezer door and connects it to the cupboard door (it's built in). I had broken it away from the screws on the Monday I left Wellington and had been unable to track down a replacement (and not for lack of trying in Christchurch) It was still lying on the floor of the car and when I reached over to pick it up to put in my bag, it suddenly occurred to me that all I needed to do was turn it around and drill new holes on the other end. I actually didn't do the drilling - that was Ana's new BF (a builder) who was putting the door handles back onto the door they'd painted for me - it took all of five minutes to resolve an issue I'd been fretting about for almost seven weeks!
I was pleased when I walked into the house yesterday afternoon that it still "felt" (and smelled) OK. This morning it was freezing and the first thing I did was turn on the heaters for fifteen minutes. It was lovely to walk in from checking something outside to a heater warmed room - the weird things you miss in the land of perpetual summer. This evening it was getting dark and I decided to do the thing Nick hates and turned on EVERY light in the house. Then as I did a final cupboard check, dust and vacuum I turned off each light, and so our house gradually went dark. I'm not convinced we are quite finished with this house yet but even so, as I turned off each light I had a moment to remember the memories for each room and say goodbye. The kitchen took three goes - and one of the very last things I did was polish the bench.
And when the last light was turned out and I shut the outside door - there was a sudden squall of heavy rain which kind of matched my mood.
Over pizzas at their place the girls commented that it must have been sad given how perfect it all was - the new paint, the new curtains, the door etc, and we didn't get to enjoy it. As you can imagine that hadn't even crossed my mind - the sadness was about leaving a space where people had lived and closing the door on over seven years of memories being made.
I had to stop by again on the way to the supermarket with Toby, as I had needed a torch for the final gas reading. And already a couple of hours later - the closure of a task completed had set in and I was focusing on my trip back tomorrow to a place I already can begin to think of as home.
Monday, July 26, 2010
The shopping antidote for homesickness
I need to start exploring further afield but one of my favorite places is Indooropilly Shopping Centre. To imagine Indooropilly you need to think Westfield Queensgate or Riccarton on steriods. Jon refuses to admit it but it's about three times the size! I think one of the reasons he disagrees, is the same reason I like it - we might be in Brisbane but there is so much that is familiar here. Pumpkin Patch, Portmans, Esprit, Just Jeans, Dymocks, Kikki K. - the list goes on. Yes there are three massive floors of Myers instead of Farmers, and there is Target and KMart rather than the Warehouse - but fundamentally it feels so similar that the "I'm totally new and lost" feeling fades away to "hey I know how this place works" The first time I walked in and saw the recognisable line up something unwound in me and I began to relax. The task of acclimatising to a new city and a new country suddenly seemed manageable.
Central city shopping areas tend to have their own character, and while I enjoy shopping there they are not always that effective for the typical parental/home management tasks. Today I needed a whole selection of useful things e.g. a couple of wicker baskets, a circuit board, some document boxes - a shopping centre with a substantial car park just is so much easier for that stuff.
Nick finds it extraordinary that he can walk into one of his favorite menswear shops and it is "exactly like it is at home"- I find it a relief! I also realised today that I could figure out the shops new to me by relating their pricing to the shops I know e.g. which is high end women's clothing and which is on the lower end of the scale. So while one could be concerned about the homogenisation of trans-tasman shopping and the economic impact the major Australian brands have on New Zealand ones (interestingly enough, here they are getting really worried about some of the big American brands encroaching) as an antidote for Kiwi homesickness ...it has unexpected dividends.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
How about an N plate?
Standing at the Post Office recently I noticed the three different learner plates you use in Queensland to go the different licensing stages. It has regularly occurred to me while driving in a new car, a new city, or even with a very new driver that it would be useful if there was a plate that indicated to the world at large that this person might not be totally smooth and sure.
The other day as I navigated my way through central Brisbane, I decided maybe N for new would be an option. It wasn't that I was driving badly but that I occasionally slowed down while I looked for a street sign, or got caught out by lane markings. I know I will manage that particular trip fine next time - because now I know that rather than a left exit to go over the road to get to the new bridge, its a right exit. This means I wont have to get across three lanes of traffic to get where I'm supposed to be. I also know that the new bridge exits before the older bridge (in my head they were the other way around). Likewise I now know when driving to the really big shopping centre on the other side of the river that there are two lanes that go straight ahead and two lanes that veer right - so next time I'll be in the left lane that veers right rather than the right lane that goes straight ahead.
Several people suggested that we get a GPS to help us find our way around. Nick has duly done this and relies on it. After it tried taking me a VERY long way round to get Jon's school uniform on Friday I have taken to using Google Maps on my iphone to give me a visual start and then let the GPS re-calculate the route once I am well started. I also think it tends to stop you paying attention to the landmarks etc as you are listening to it rather than thinking about where you are. The GPS has some other significant failings as well - it navigated us into a tunnel and lost the signal so couldn't tell us to take the first tunnel exit (it was several km long) and worst of all - why cant someone invent one that responds to voice. It would make so much more sense if you could simply say an address and it calculated the route. Or you could say "roadworks" and it would find an alternate route.
In the meantime - I grabbed a copy of the Queensland road code so we could double check all the things we thought we knew and make sense of some strange signs. That way when we apply for a Queensland drivers license in the next couple of weeks it will feel honest :)
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