The kids really wanted to make history, so this weekend we joined, oh, about 175,000 others, to walk the second Gateway Bridge.
Despite arriving early, we had a huge walk to the bus station, and then to the bridge itself. Turns out we would have been better off NOT paying for parking, and parking in a nearby street and walking.
Anyway, by the time we reached the bridge, Mr 9 was flagging.
Now this is a fit and healthy young man, who runs on the smell of a lunchbox from morning 'till night. But clearly, the long walk and the density of the crowds, had done his head, or at least his body, in.
I felt sure there would be a first aid station close by, but the very first ambulance tent was actually on the bridge, and we needed to ask directions to find it first.
There, Mr 9 was assessed as suffering very low blood pressure and heart rate. Since he'd had a huge meal and drinks, they could only attribute it to the long walk, the crowds, and excitement.
Once his blood pressure had returned to normal, we were released. But by then, the (foot) traffic had been stopped to allow for the opening. And people, as in the crowds, were just being awful, pushing past and jumping queues.
And in the interests of Mr 9's health, and his conflicting desire to walk the bridge, we made it a small way up the bridge before he announced he Just Couldn't Do It Anymore. And commenced to shake quite convincingly.
And so it was, that we left the bridge, and I tried to console Mr 9 and Miss 7 that at least they had made it part-way across, and had still qualified for the history-making label.
I'm not sure it worked.
Worst of all, was that the only way home was via another long walk, a bus ride, and yet another long walk, and then a car ride.
Mr 9 almost passed out before I could get him to the car, and I had to physically support him for much of the journey. (He's almost as big as me, and I have arthritis, so this is hugely painful for me, and I'm still paying for it today.)
And the hordes of people pushing past as we tried to emerge from the ambo tent was incredible. Not one person stopped to allow us access; and no one seemed to be available to allow it to happen. How did people get so selfish and uncaring? Seriously, we could barely move, let alone breathe. No wonder Mr 9's blood pressure was low!
But still, we made it - kind of - and the kids are thrilled to have been a part of Queensland History.
I'm just glad the little man is okay.
But please authorities, next time be a little more prepared.
Of course people are going to want to walk the bridge for the first and possibly only time in history. (Did you learn nothing from the Clem 7 debacle)? And what about the elderly, the very small, and the sick? How about making days like this, easier for them?
Surely, history-making should be available to all ... or is that asking too much?
Little Miss Riding Hood makes the trek to the bridge
Enjoying a sausage in bread, despite the attitude of the older men selling the said sizzle. First they ignored him, then accused him of not paying, then refused to let him have mustard on his sausage because 'he wouldn't like it'. Honestly ... I did step in, don't worry, but I like the kids practise their own skills, and you would think a Rotary organisation would be a bit kinder to young 'uns.
Outside B105 (Sadly, I didn't win the $1000_
One of the fish and chips lunches on the bridge. It was honestly pretty crap, with the inside of the fish still cold, so I won't name the establishment responsible. (Mum always said if you can't say something nice...)
I'm a writer, author, journalist, blogger, and mum. I love my kids, hate housework, and would rather chew my arm off than supervise homework. Picker-upper of toys and pet poo; finder of lost things; and curser of the Sock Monster. When I grow up, I want a pony.