THE BRISBANE GRAND TOUR

Jason Volker Contributor Brisbane, Australia

"There's no such thing as a numbat," says my disbelieving foreign friend.

"Sure there is. He's a cute little critter too ... though a trifle dull."

"You're kidding, right?" responds my friend.

"Then of course there's always the bilby."

"The what?"

"The bilby. Native to Wagga Wagga. Sometimes found in Woolloomooloo."

"Who? Where?"

"And quokkas are common west of Whoop-Whoop."

"Whoop-Whoop?"

I can see I'm going to enjoy this.

It's Tom's first trip to the land down under, so I've volunteered to play tour guide for a few days and show him the varied charms of my hometown, Brisbane, capital of "beautiful one day, perfect the next" Queensland.

Local folklore states that all Brisbane tours should begin with a visit to the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary, just 15 minutes from downtown Bris Vegas (yes, that's what we like to call our city, though some of us, mainly marketing guys, call Brisbane the "City of Sun Days").

Established in 1927, Lone Pine is the world's first and largest koala sanctuary. This pioneering shelter and research center is home to more than 100 species of native wildlife, from sinister red-bellied black snakes to saccharine-sweet sugargliders, pademelons and wallaroos.

A stroll through the sanctuary's 20 hectares of natural bushland provides the rare opportunity to hand-feed kangaroos, wallabies and (if you're brave) emus, while simultaneously stomping random deposits of authentic marsupial poop. But the highest joy on offer at Lone Pine is the chance to cuddle one of 130 outrageously cute koalas.

Though Australia's native animals are unquestionably endearing, they're also irrefutable proof that Mother Nature has a sublime sense of humor. The cartoon character Taz is based on the Tasmanian devil, a few minutes with a laughing kookaburra will put anybody in a good mood, it's virtually impossible to look at a pug-nosed wombat without guffawing and have you ever seen a frilled-neck lizard run? Now that's comedy!

As we break for lunch, I fulfill my tour leader responsibilities by informing Tom of some other true-blue Aussie creatures.

"You know, each year Brisbane holds very well attended cockroach races," I idly mention over a sandwich and soda.

"No way, cockroach races?" says incredulous Tom.

"Yep, Brisbane is home to the annual World Championship Cockroach Races ... they even run the steeplechase!"

Tom falls silent as he computes the idea of high-hurdling cockroaches.

"Get out of here, nobody races roaches!" he quips on emerging from his reverie.

"It's a leisurely life here in Brisbane. Also, we drink a lot of beer."

In the past decade Brisbane has sloughed its reputation as a sleepy country town (roach racing aside) to become Australia's fastest growing city, with a cosmopolitan population of 1.6 million laid-back souls.

The Queensland capital has always been handsome, with its abundance of inner-city greenery, its prime riverside location and its 19th century grandiose public buildings. But with modern Brisbane's buzzing Queen Street Mall, its assortment of trendy alfresco cafes, its freshly burgeoning nightlife and its compulsively affable residents, the city is that rarity in today's frenzied world: a truly people-friendly metropolis.

Brisbane is both easygoing and ambitious, uncrowded yet lively, chic without being pretentious, smallish but big on attractions. On average the city basks in 243 sunny days a year; its winters are brisk enough to rose the cheeks, but balmy enough to picnic in the park. And the cultural calendar includes classy events like the Brisbane International Film Festival and the Brisbane Festival of Theater, Art and Music.

Little wonder Brisbane is widely regarded as Australia's most livable city.

Of course, Brisbane's indigenous population has known this for some 40,000 years. Before the Britons arrived in 1825, the region was home to the Jagera and Turrbal aboriginal tribes. They knew the area as Mian-jin, the "place shaped like a spike".

Life in Mian-jin was free and bountiful. The clans spent their days hunting and gathering food, but time was also set aside for social and spiritual activities. It was an uncomplicated existence; harmony with nature the simple yet profound purpose.

But when the English (mogwi -- perhaps an onomatopoeic term) needed a penal colony "for the worst class of offender", the place shaped like a spike soon saw a smattering of strange- speaking landlords moving in.

The new management decided a name change was in order. Following much debate, the colonialists eventually agreed to name their young town after then governor of New South Wales, Sir Thomas Makdougall Brisbane (thus sparing future generations from living in Edinglassie, which came in a close second).

To improve the neighborhood and raise real estate prices, the town of Brisbane was declared open to free settlers in 1842, and from the 1860s onward an immigration rush established the multicultural foundation that to this day gives Brisbane its unique and colorful character.

Evidence of that unique and colorful character: under state constitutional law, all Brisbane pubs are still required to have a railing out front to tie up a horse!

Next up on Tom's grand tour is a downtown Brisbane walkabout. We get things rolling with a cool ale and quick flutter in the Romanesque Conrad Treasury Casino, then redeem ourselves by popping into not-quite-finished St. John's Cathedral. This already 100-year-old project is currently in a go-slow race with Barcelona's Sagrada Familia to be the last Gothic cathedral in the world to finish construction.

We mosey over to the neo-classical-cum-art-deco City Hall and scale the clock tower for a panoramic view of the city, then jump a CityCat river ferry and cruise to historic New Farm Park to marvel at the famous jacaranda trees in full lilac bloom.

Though I really do like the park, I love the South Bank Parklands.

Spanning 17 hectares of riverbank property directly opposite the central business district, this relatively recent addition to the inner-city landscape is located on the former site of World Expo '88, aka Brisbane's "coming of age" megaparty.

With time at a premium, Tom and I reverently bypass the Queensland Art Gallery, Museum, State Library and Performing Arts Complex and make a beeline for Breaka Beach -- Australia's only inland city beach, but more importantly, potential meeting place of bronzed bikini babes (hey, we're guys). And while Elle Macpherson isn't on hand, Tom still shoots some richly artistic, muse-inspired scenes for his holiday home video.

We crown this fruitful day with a short drive to the high point of Brisbane: Mt. Coot-tha Lookout. With twilight and the "gobble-gobble" of wild bush turkeys in the air, we approvingly gaze over the twinkling vista of Brisbane, just a mighty stone's throw below. The scenic beauty moves my inner poet to capture the moment in words ...

"Struth buggalugs, wouldya take a Captain Cook at that bonzer view."

"Say again!" blurts Tom, slightly alarmed.

"Oh, sorry mate. Forgot you don't speak Strine."

"Strine?" echoes Tom.

"Australian slang. Dinky-di Aussie-speak, cobber."

"Surely you Aussies don't speak like that," says Tom.

"Four words: Steve Irwin, Crocodile Hunter," says I.

"Crikey," mumbles Tom, poignantly.

Sunday in the City of Sun Days, and that means happily rambling through the Riverside Art and Craft Market, a vibrant weekly gathering in the heart of the city that's now an established "must-do" while in Brisbane.

Extravagantly arty folk staff hundreds of stalls proffering an earthy and eclectic array of wares, much of it lovingly crafted by hand. It's as though the powers that be have decreed: "And on each seventh day, Brisbane shall have an upmarket bazaar, a 21st century village fair, a mini-craft carnival."

We cha-cha-cha past the live jazz band, Tom almost buys a genuine leather jacket, I pore over stunning shots by a local shutterbug, we bliss out with a soothing shiatsu massage, we pause for a punnet of farm-fresh strawberries, Tom gets lost, Tom gets found, Tom buys bagfuls of plush toy koalas, kookaburras and kangaroos.

Monday dawns with the realization that I can't let Tom leave Oz without seeing one of the world's finest beaches, just an hour's drive from downtown Brisbane. At the heart of a 70- kilometer stretch of celebrated Pacific coastline, the hedonistic haven of Surfers Paradise awaits.

Here I introduce Tom to the ancient Aussie tradition of bodysurfing, and in no time Tom introduces himself to the ancient Aussie tradition of getting wave-whopped in the back of the head. Unfazed, slightly euphoric even, we shake the sand from between our ears and join the international mix of holidaymakers scouring the souvenir shops and clothing boutiques of supercool Cavill Mall.

Confirmation we are in paradise comes when we bump into two angelic "Metermaids" (superheroines in gold bikini costumes who insert coins into expired parking meters out of the goodness of their voluptuous hearts).

Naturally the Gold Coast's most photographed attraction, the iconic Surfers Paradise Metermaids have been saving absentminded motorists and brushing aside corny pickup lines since 1965 (To wit: "How much does a polar bear weigh? I don't know either, but it's enough to break the ice.")

Tom's Down Under adventure concludes on a high -- a 37-meter high, to be exact. The "Fly Coaster" is a gigantic swing contraption that lifts diehard adrenalin junkies 12-stories above Surfers Paradise, then releases them into a 130-kilometer per hour free fall that combines the dazzling lunacy of skydiving with the cornea-bulging insanity of bungee jumping -- otherwise known as "sensational footage for Tom's home video".

"Hope that emu jerky doesn't come back to haunt you," I say to Tom as he's winched beyond the point of no return.

"Did you say something?" shouts Tom.

"I say, if anything happens can I have your video camera?"

"My what?"

"Your video camera, if you don't make it can I have your Handycam?" I yell skywards.

A dramatic hush hangs in the air as Tom psyches himself up to pull the rip cord. Then a defiant voice from above booms forth ...

"You may take my Handycam, but you can't take my FREEDOM ... AAAAHHHH!"

Touche.

IF YOU GO

Where: Brisbane is located in the southeast corner of Queensland (Australia's Sunshine State), just 25 kilometers inland from the South Pacific Ocean.

Getting there: Of all the airlines, Qantas (phone 21-230 0277, www.qantas.com) flies the most direct route between Jakarta and Brisbane, with just the one stop in Perth.

When to go: Anytime, really. But if you're extra fussy when it comes to your traveling weather, pop in between May and September.

Lodging: Budgeteers should head for City Backpackers (380 Upper Roma St, phone 617-3211 3221, email info@citybackpackers.com, www.citybackpackers.com) where nightly rates start at A$16.

A more luxurious option is the Metro Inn Tower Mill (239 Wickham Terrace, phone 617-3832 1421, email reservations@metrohg.com, www.metroinns.com.au) where very comfortable rooms start at A$85 a night.

Dining: Cheap eats can be found in the Myer Center or Wintergarden food courts located in the Queen Street Mall. Cafe connoisseurs should try local favorite Bar Merlo Cafe at 344 Queen St (phone 7-3221 4561) for fine food and excellent espresso. The award-winning Il Centro Restaurant (phone 7-3221 6090) at Eagle St Pier is arguably Brisbane's finest eatery.

Getting around: An efficient and affordable public transportation system crisscrosses the city and surrounding suburbs. If it's a riverside destination, jump on a ferry, if not, choose between speedy electric trains and air-conditioned buses.

Currency: A$1 is equal to Rp 5,023.

More information: Lonely Planet Australia makes life on the road easier.

In cyberspace check out www.brisbanetourism.com.au, www.destinationqueensland.com, www.australia.com, www.koala.net and www.flycoaster.com.