Surfer's Paradise

Some almost-travel writing about a land down under

‘Miles ahead of us, blurred in the milky air, I see a dream city: its cream, its silver, its turquoise towers thrust in a cluster from a distant spit.
“What - is that Brisbane?”
“No,” says my mother. "That's Surfers.”’ - Helen Garner, Postcards from Surfers

Lo’ and I are met by our closest and oldest friends at Brisbane airport, holding a scribbled sign an…