On the Road: Monday

Monday 23 January 2017.

Sitting down to the familiar task of Travelogue tapping I'm glad I played it safe as far as the new laptop is concerned.

Having made my way safely to and through Brisbane Airport with almost enough time to catch the 5:37 AirTrain I did my best to adjust the body clock to a new concert-based paradigm and was only partly successful.

It was six-forty-five when, showered, refreshed and ready for action, I sat down to resume the Travelogue duties.

That's around two hours before regular operations start on a weekday in the Little House of Concrete, so the attempt, after a reasonable night's sleep, was at least partly successful.

A change in the flight time from Brisbane to Perth means I'll be up, about and headed to the airport around the same time tomorrow morning,. If I play things right I'll handle the late night post-concert bedtime and the time difference through the rest of the week after that.

But that remains to be seen.

What has become glaringly obvious is that the preceding exercises in dictation have spoiled The Author, whose hunt and peck keyboarding skills lag behind the thought processes by a considerable margin.

As far as speed of entry goes, it's Dictation first, daylight second, with Hunt and Peck not even on camera as the winner crosses the line. I reckon that last sentence took a good twenty seconds longer to complete than would have been the case otherwise.

And while there was nothing obvious that would have prevented a laptop purchased on Wednesday arriving on the doorstep in Bowen around lunchtime on Friday, there's no total guarantee that it would have panned out that way.

Given an alternative of around twenty-five days of hunt and peck, I'll take the safe option of collecting the new machine in Perth, thank you very much.

Even though I could have hit the road yesterday morning with the new machine all set up and ready to rock and roll.

After the concerns earlier in the week, once I'd stopped off at the auto teller to fill up the wallet, the run through to the airport, via Bunnings and The Fat Frog in Cannonvale was almost completely uneventful.

After a slight delay while we debated whether a thirty-metre hose was necessary (Madam prevailed, and we went for fifteen), my fish and chips at the Corpulent Amphibian meant I wouldn't be needing anything substantial in the evening.

Madam's fish taco would probably have left her indulging in a very light snack while she enjoyed quality Hughesy-free time with the tennis, LikLik and Ninja last night.

The only excitement came when I attempted to pair Madam's iPad to the car's communication system. My iPad, with its selection of Hughesy's Top 5000 most played, usually provides the soundtrack when we hit the road, but it was going south and Madam had acquired some Japanese ska that she thought would be good driving music.

But it helps to make sure that the musical content is on the device before you set about pairing the device to the car's Bluetooth.

I think I got the pairing right, anyway.

I was at the airport comfortably before check-in opened, which meant I was through security behind about half a dozen fellow travellers, well and truly in time to track down any available power points in the Departure Lounge.

Unfortunately, the only one in evidence was right outside the entrance to the Female toilet. Still, with a good hour and a quarter before boarding was scheduled to begin, I figured I could get both iPhone and iPad fully charged before we headed off.

According to TransLink, I was looking at around five hours with no way to recharge either device en route, so I figured I'd better get it done wherever the opportunity arose.

And if that opportunity involved sitting beside the door to the Ladies' convenience, that was tough luck.

But the aircraft had landed and the iPhone was showing itself at 97% when I unplugged the device. Plugging it back in revealed it was actually 100%, and, of course, may have been for some time.

Running the iPad through the car's USB meant it had suffered minimal rundown, so it remained untapped up as I removed myself to the regular seating to await the boarding call.

My place was immediately taken by a young girl of apparent Indian extraction, who joined the attractive possibly English lass who'd arrived to claim the other power point about half an hour earlier.

As I sat in the regular seating I resolved to investigate devices that will recharge three devices from a single power source, and an appointment with OfficeWorks has been added to the morning's To Do list.

And, at seven-forty, with breakfast atop the aforementioned list, one casts the eye back over fifty minutes of Hunt and Peck and wonders how much further one might have got with dictation.

Having temporarily discarded the cafe at the foot of the unit complex as a breakfast option,  I took an extended wander around downtown Southport to scope out the options.

When nothing succeeded in catching the eye or capturing the fancy, I ended up more or less back where I started, having covered a tad over half a kilometre in the meantime (according to the iPhone's Health app). I'm sure it was more than that, though the discrepancy might  be almost entirely illusionary.

And, as I sat down to await my coffee and breakfast wrap, I turned my attention to the news for the first time today.

The Astute Reader, will no doubt, have noticed the elephant in the room present throughout the foregoing account.

It's presence registered again as I opened the morning bulletin from the ABC News website.

There was, of course, a Springsteen concert in Perth last night, and I'd spent most of yesterday trying not to remind myself of the fact.

There's always a danger in seeing reviews and reports on concerts one could have attended.

That, actually, was the point of references to Neil Young shows in 2013. I'd opted not to go to Perth and Adelaide, caught Brisbane and Sydney, and then headed back to start on the Bruce shows when I could have gone on to Melbourne for the Plenary.

Wouldn't have got to Rod Laver, though.

The Springsteen-related logistics ruled that out, and there would probably have been a can't be in two places (Brisbane and Melbourne) factor as well.

The first four shows on the Neil tour, however, shared pretty close to the same set list (at least that's the way I recall it), and I'd caught that one twice.

I was sitting in Brisbane (IIRC) one or two nights out from Bruce, seeing the set list and thinking that I really could have been there for that one, and could still made it back for the show on the horizon.

So, yesterday, there were imponderables I didn't want to ponder.

Overnight, a FaceBook comment from the inimitable Staggster inquiring whether my itinerary included Canberra, had brought a regretful Not this time, which was produced an I understand.

Which was the reminder I needed to finally turn the attention to Springsteen-elated matters.

The BRUCEFanatic app is not completely up to date, but a glance at the official website revealed a twenty-four number show, with six more in the encore.

Started with New York Serenade, included Rosalita and Candy's Room, and skipped Waitin' on a Sunny Day with the seemingly obligatory haul a kid up out of the audience to sing a verse and chorus bit.

That has been a part of six out of seven shows to date. With luck, the absence will continue, though it does go down well with the audience.

But after a brief look, there's nothing there to cause regret at being too smart by half.

Because, having decided I was going, and going included Perth, things were, I thought, straightforward.

Arrive in Perth the day before the first show, stay there until the day before Adelaide, and then move on to Sydney and Melbourne the day before the first shows there.

In hindsight there's a gap in that logic you could drive a substantial vehicle through.

It works on the assumption that additional shows in each centre will come after the one announced in the original announcement.

That's the way it usually pans out.

So it seemed logical to get in early and book flights to Perth and Adelaide before tickets went on sale. Those cheap fares aren't refundable, so that part of things is reasonably close to set in concrete.

Accommodation is all no cancellation fee, provided it's more than twenty-four hours in advance.

And, with the sole exception of Perth, where you might not expect a third show to be added, that's the way it turned out.

So, with two shows in Perth selling out, adding a third meant it had to go earlier rather than later.

There's an awful lot of gear that needs to be shipped across the Nullarbor before Adelaide.

But, at the same time, on initial appearances, it looks like I haven't missed anything significant.

Assuming, that is, you can describe what was probably a rousing and stellar three-hour performance that included Candy's Room as insignificant.

And, at that point, with another three-quarters of an hour's tapping under the belt, one turns the attention to the day's important business.

Which includes that visit to OfficeWorks or its cousin brother.

As it turned out, the cousin brother got the nod. I'd noticed a new electronics store on the premises formerly occupied by Dick Smiths in my earlier wander through Australia Fair scoping out the breakfast options, and promptly found exactly what I was looking for.

The Critical Reader might suggest there was no need for four USB slots, but Madam is looking at an iPhone, and already has an iPad.

On that basis I reckon we can charge all the devices from one hub in one fell swoop.

From there, I took myself off to the Library, renewed the borrowing card that gives family members access to the in house broadband as well as reading matter (very important: they have significant Japanese language holdings) and headed back to sort out the details of a long dormant financial account.

After that, the original game plan involved the USB charger, but since that was already attended to I headed back to base. Once the packing (or, rather, repacking was complete, I killed time before lunch with a spot of reading.

A trip out to the Asian Supermarket delivered a tasty chicken curry, half a bottle of Crabtree Riesling washed it down, and once the washing up was done, I killed time till two, then manoeuvred the Coppertone Container around to the bus stop for an uneventful run through to Roma Street and the Hotel Jen.

Something along the way suggested that the night's accommodation was, at one stage, a Holiday Inn, and it may well have been. It has, however, been refurbished, and with a location right beside the Roma Street transit hub it's an ideal stopover for people in my situation.

A 9:15 flight and an inclination to be early means I'll be looking at the 6:27 AirTrain from Roma Street, which would have left Helensvale at five.

That, obviously, was not an option.

So the Hotel Jen slotted in ideally.

There's not much in the neighbourhood as far as eating and drinking options are concerned, but it's not that far to the CBD, and Nest, the onsite bar and restaurant fitted the bill very nicely.

By the time I was downstairs to check out the options, the only takeaways open were the ones I go out of my way to avoid. If there'd been somewhere doing pizza, I may well have grabbed a takeaway and a bottle of something from the Cellarbrations on the ground level.

Since I hadn't established the finer details of the takeaway options I took a look in there, found some interesting possibilities (both red and white) and headed on with plenty of options open.

If only they had been.

Since they weren't, I ventured into Nest, downed a schooner, ordered a pad Thai and washed it down with a quite acceptable St Helga Riesling.

While it wasn't the best pad Thai I've ever had, it certainly wasn't the worst, and the combination of Thai and Riesling worked charmingly, the way it usually does.

And, with. No thoughts of bottle shops and takeaways I was back upstairs shortly afterwards, pushing up Zs by a quarter to eight.