Travelling to the Brisbane Ghetto5 min read

G’day mates!

As most of you know, I practiced speed skating at a high level for a just about a decade and the sport and what it has taught me, whether I choose to acknowledge it or not, will stay with me till I exuberantly take my final breath, I’m sure. I did not skate last year and was planning on taking it up again this year. It just so coincides that I’m in Australia… Now, I know what you’re thinking and I have to admit it was also a serious concern of mine. I was told that there were ice rinks in Brisbane and a speed skating club so that was good enough for me to pack my equipment and bring it overseas with me! It’s important to note that once here, I found out there were two skating rinks in the whole city! So with this information in mind, I give you: my trip to the rink!

It all started with a phone call last week. I found a number on one of the rink’s websites and talked to a vibrant woman on the other end who did not hesitate to give me the information I needed. I was all set: I was going to get to meet everyone at a barbecue that same week! Great! I was to meet up with the club at the glorious Iceworld Rink in Acacia Ridge! “Seems easy enough! Iceworld! Wow! This place must be huge!”, I pondered. The only downside to this trip was that there was no actual skating session because of a figure skating competition. Those girls always ruin everything with their skin tight… colourful… shape revealing… suits… Oh sorry… We’re getting off topic here…

Anyways, a couple hours before going I looked at the transit system map and it was supposed to take me around 45 minutes to get there. This was more than reasonable to practice a sport I love in what had to be one of the biggest ice rinks on the planet I’m sure! With a name like that, there must be 6-7 ice sheets in that place! I got my stuff together and was headed for acacia ridge! On my way out, my roommates Lauren and Katie asked what I was up to. “I’m off to Acacia Ridge for a barbecue”, I said. This comment prompted Katie: “Why is your barbecue in the ghetto?”. Let me tell you that I had already made up my mind on how this night was going to go, and how everything was going to look along the way! So I most definitely went through the 7 stages of grief when Katie killed my vision of things…

Shock & Denial – After those comments, I didn’t have much time to discuss it, I was going to be late! Walking towards the bus stop, I told myself: “Pfff… There’s no way Ghetto means the same thing here as it does in Canada. We’re way more hardcore over there, no doubt! What? Am I going to stumble across Kangaroos with bandanas… Please. I take your fact based reality, Katie, and substitute it with my fictional one!”

Pain & Guilt – This started to set in when I was waiting at the cultural centre for my second and final bus. As I looked at the time table to find the pickup time, I noticed that this bus only passed by this stop every hour… I instantly clued in that I wasn’t going to the most popular part of town… As I sat on the bus, the district names were becoming weirder and longer… Woolloongabba, Coorparoo, Moorooka… Oh, Katie, you were right!!

Anger & Bargaining – WHERE AM I GOING?! I passed the industrial part of town, what looked like an abandoned airport, open fields… Where is Acacia Ridge? Why am I even going to this?! I contemplate offering everything I have in my pocket to the bus driver for him to bring me back to town. A transfer ticket, a house key, 7.34$ in change and a pen… That will not cut it. I guess i’m commited. Hopefully I can get home after this… It’s already dark out! (It’s dark by 5:30!).

Depression & Loneliness – I asked the bus driver to tell me when we were near the rink. I resigned to my fate. As I get off the bus, I realize that this is in fact a ghetto in comparison to Brisbane… The houses have no driveways; everyone is parked on the grass. Some of the houses are falling apart and in serious need of a paint job. I’m here! Wherever that is… I mope to the nearest gas station to ask for directions while practicing how to write blood with my fingers, just in case I need it (Link). “Ice world is about 1km that way!” There is hope!

The Upward Turn – I can see the iceworld sign! It’s a neon one! I could most likely win the gold medal for speed walking at this point.

Reconstruction – As I come up on the arena, I realize I’ve been fooled by the dark powers of marketing… Iceworld… This isn’t even Ice Continent, nor could it pass as Ice Country. At best, I would give it a grade of Ice City. My bearings getting back to me, I realize why I was coming to skate in the first place! Not for the glory, but simply to reconcile with the sport.

Acceptance & Hope – As I approached the rink, where the barbecue was happening, I saw a bunch of kids running around laughing, parents socializing… They gave me the warmest of welcomes’ once I got there and even fed me… These people are too nice! I can’t wait to be on the ice with these guys Thursday! THIS is what sport is about. Things are looking up!

BONUS – A couple and their daughter offer me a ride back home. I LOVE YOU!

Super duper BONUS – Their daughter, Monique, talks to me about Australian politics on the way home. She’s 12. Impressive.

Until next time, I’m Australianly yours and greatly appreciate your messages.

Joël

Last Updated on December 22, 2020 by Joël Collin-Demers