Brisbane was a five night stay. This was due to getting here early and leaving later. Anna had found an apartment about half a mile from the centre of Brisbane. It accommodated four people, quite some space after the tent! Sadly it was up a very steep hill, however, I’d got used to steep hills by now! Everyday was usually a 15,000 step affair, hardly a rest.

The first task was to get a bike box. On the face of it this might appear a challenge but all bike shops that sell new bikes have to dispose of the boxes they come in and as they have to pay to have them taken away they’re usually happy to give you one for free. In fairness they’re often cyclists in the store and are happy to help fellow cyclists. The bike shop wasn’t far away but carrying a 1.5 x 1.0 metre box in a bit of a breeze can be similar to sailing! I got a Uber back to the apartment.

In Auckland I’d found my aunt’s grave as well as met Carole, my cousin, and in Brisbane by a catching a couple of buses south out of the city and then employing Shank’s pony I found George’s gravestone. He had a long life and checked out when he was 99 years old.

I was pleased with my discovery. I promise you that if you have to track down a specific grave in a large cemetery despite references etc. it is not a quick or easy job. However, my main job whilst in Brisbane was to look up my eldest cousin, George’s son, Malcolm. This was my third visit to Brisbane but the first to meet Malcolm. We’d only just discovered he lived here! Anna had tracked him down through an email address given to her on Ancestry.com by Malcolm and Diana’s daughter’s former husband’s father. He’d created a family tree and her mention enabled us to pick up a trail. Fortunately folk of a certain vintage keep their email addresses and phone numbers for decades and when my hopeful and speculative email went out to her mother she answered.

Malcolm and Diana had been residents in Brisbane for a long time but had variously lived in England and Ireland in the past. It’s in the 1980s, in Yorkshire, that I last met Malcolm. Clearly there was a lot of history to catch up on. So we met in central Brisbane for a coffee and then adjourned to the suburbs to meet his son, daughter-in-law and children along with Diana. I originally thought we were meeting on the Monday and then Malcolm moved it to Sunday. I really wasn’t over my cycling weariness when we met also, as I’ll cover in another blog, I’d been awake since 3.30am thanks to some inconsiderate Irish neighbours. Malcolm is an unbelievably fit 89 years old. Truly inspirational in his continuing energy and faculties. I really hope some of those genes have come my way. I learned a lot including that his relationship with NZ and Australia started in 1953 when he first came out here.

I had a number of chores to do on my stay including buying food, buying some luggage and also buying a few more clothes. My wardrobe was limited and I was tired of wearing the same clothes over 5 weeks. My outfitter of choice is Uniqlo.

The walking tour or general sightseeing had been done on earlier visits and I mainly spent time in the centre.

The major cities, Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, Adelaide and Perth are the major population centres and such a contrast to the rural settlements. You can see that it’s here that Australia has its commercial centres.

At the very centre of the city these historic buildings are landmarks. Brisbane will be a fine place for the future Summer Olympics to take place.

Eventually it was time to go. Discussing Premier League football with another Somali Uber driver as we made our way to my destination (Liverpool fan…) I started the long journey home at the Delta check-in. The Delta marketing department has christened ‘Economy’ as ‘Main Cabin’. Bless them.

Fortunately the flight was not very full and I had space beside me on the first leg to Los Angeles. Some of the help I got from Delta with queries and arrangements was customer service at the highest level. I will elaborate on that in my next blog. It’ll cover off how contacting Air France was impossible, the exhausting detour to get home of 40 hours, how a peach got me in to trouble with US Border Control…’follow me this way sir”, the joys despite the cost of the Airport lounge, fishing for halibut in Alaska and a troublesome, drunk passenger in the row in front.