roycemleev3.50

Putting my fantastic alliteration in the title to one side, we were in Brisbane to celebrate my friend Mirko's 32nd birthday. Sue had organised a surprise party at their home in the Sunshine Coast, so we borrowed Laura's mum's car and headed up the Bruce Highway. It was a really gloomy, threatening day, though as the picture of the Ettamogah Pub (taken as Laura drove past at 110km/h with me hanging out the window) it did lighten a bit as we got closer.

I'd had a bit of fun with Mirko on the drive up, by calling him to wish him a happy birthday. When he asked about the driving noises he could hear in the background I told him we were on the bus on our way to the shops in Sydney - which he believed (mustn't have heard too many Sydney buses). But the joke was looking like it might be on me - we were running fairly late and I was having visions of wrecking everything that Susan had planned.

As it turned out we got there in plenty of time, it was pretty shocked at how many people were there. I knew a few people, but there were a lot of others I'd never met.

One of the more interesting things of the day was the behaviour of Mirko's Dad. Mirko's Dad is usually a straight talking, no bullshit kind of guy but today he was a doting, baby-talking regular granddad. Definitely a side of him I've never seen before.

Despite the rain it was a great BBQ and as best as I could tell everyone had a good time.

The part got smaller and smaller until the only people left were us and a few old uni mates. Once Matt received his mysterious phone call and rode his motorbike into the night, the party was officially over. We stayed up for a bit to chat and catch up, and Mirko introduced me to his take on latte art. Fuggeddabout fancy pouring techniques and microbubbles - Mirko's technique involves adding the chocolate to the top by flicking his wrist holding the shaker in an "artistic" manner, then naming the creation what he thinks it most resembles. Here are the masterpieces from that night - I think most of them are called "sandstorm":

Laura and I headed up to Brisbane for Mirko's surprise 32nd bithday (he was OS for his 30th, and Angelina was born a few days before his 31st).

Dave picked us up in his Audi (man I love that car), and after taking care of some odds and ends, we ended up at the Breakky Creek Hotel, famous for its premium steaks. I've been know to eat a steak or two in my time, so I was always going to be well satisfied.

The food was fabulous and the renos looked pretty good, but a minor complaint nevertheless; - why oh why would they scream out over the PA the names of punters whose dinner was ready? Haven't they heard of those vibating tags that most every other similar restaurant uses?

Our friends John and Colleen had moved to a spectacular apartment in Point Piper (as you do) and hosted a lavish dinner with a group of their friends (as you do).

The view from their apartment was spectacular, the food and wine was great, and the company matched. Highlight was John's new trainset (well if you ask him it was anyway).

Dave (my brother) was in town for the races and we caught up with him and a couple of his mates at The Royal in Randwick then went onto dinner at Thai-riffic.

The Royal was a great pub, made all the more so by the lack of smoke. After a couple of drinks at the pub we walked down and ordered a feast of Thai food.

The restaurant was stacking up the chairs behind us when we had managed to finished all of the wine and food. Royce and I headed home while the boys went off to sample some of the Sydney nightlife. Arriving at the races before midday was never going to happen anyway.

Walking through the 'Cross on a Saturday arvo is usually quite interesting, but was made even more interesting because of the chalk art on the footpaths. Ok, so there were no Julian Beever's amongst the artists, but it was a stinking hot day and they were giving it a shot.