This Journey with Gina

This journey with Gina began 43 years ago as a child to finally reach today’s destination as a grandmother.
by Yasmin Allen-Robbins on Friday, April 1, 2011 at 8:45 pm

I left Townsville early on Monday morning with a perturbing feeling in the pit of my stomach I knew something was wrong, was it leaving this comfortable little city or leaving Michelle as she and I had rejuvenated a friendship that had not perished in the elapse of not seeing each other for over 30 years. Or was there something else, I couldn't place this uneasiness and I have learnt to respect and listen to my inner voice, but this day I couldn't hear, only feel anxious.

This next phase of my journey was to take me onto Ipswich via Brisbane Queensland to visit yet another school friend Virginia. I met Gina as I affectionately have always called her, at the end of grade 4 at the Leichhardt primary school. That first morning the teacher had informed the room that there was going to be a new girl in class she needed a volunteer to show her around. When I arrived Gina raised her hand to take me under her wing and the rest is history. We became inseparable until the beginning of grade 8 when Dad had again received military transfer orders for Exmouth on the other side of the continent in Western Australia. That story will be narrated another day.

Gina’s family was not in the military community so she lived a fair distance away for young legs at that time to walk or even bicycle. The school yard was a very large grassed area surrounded by a high wire fence, we would walk every day to a point and then split up, she ducking through an open space of wire at the far right corner and I through a gate on the opposite side of the yard to our separate roads home, then the next morning we’d meet up again. Lunch time was always a highlight as our Mums would fold our sandwiches in rainbow cellophane, that was a new thing back then and we felt trendy to have it. Now it didn't make the sandwich taste any better it did however show the red jam squeezed out as a ribbon all around the squashed bread. Gina’s Mum would sometimes put in the paper lunch bag an extra sandwich so that I could have the same or we would just swap to find the surprise that had been packed.

Saturdays was a big deal as I made sure all my chores were done so that I could spend the afternoon with my friend. There was no Mum or Dad taxi service supplied as you and I have given our children; to visit anyone or go anywhere I got there on my own two feet or peddled my bike, a bike that was continually painted to always look like new. So down a lengthy road to Gina’s house I trekked where we played in her famous Play House. Memories have arisen of her two brothers and a sister joining in and amusingly now I remember the younger brother swiping our snacks, the sleepovers in the big bed and playing with her two kangaroos, these graceful creatures could be pets back then, I also had two as pets in my younger years.

There were milestones such as a book called “Gina” a Christmas present Mum gave, hah! It was about a horse, Birthday parties and picking out the heart necklace I gave Gina for her 13th remarkably she still possesses it today, and there was my own 13th when Howard and our special friends went to see the Saturday matinee showing of “Jungle Boy” and upon our return home there was a surprise party waiting. These were the years of the giggles that pierced the air, first crushes on boys, my first Date "a boy and his father came and asked my parents - but they forgot to ask me if I wanted to go to the dance with the boy." The spell of that first enchanted kiss under a tree, mmm! That first class excursion to Queensland's Parliament House in Brisbane where we didn't have to wear our usual baby blue check school uniform, instead I proudly wore the pink gingham dress Mum lovingly handmade for that occasion. And those embarrassing moments only a Mum could pile on, such as being fitted for that new size-nothing cup bra when my body began to find curves and when my all my neighbors were told I had moved into “womanhood”. And reminiscence of the day I turned yellow, Gina was the one who caringly walked me home after morning recess because I had Hepatitis like so many others in my neighborhood at that time. I was put into quarantine straight away in the Ipswich hospital and Mum being all distraught needed to buy me some Pajamas you’ll easily guess what color she bought; one pair was pink and the other was a distasteful….. yes Yellow! What about the moment… I am sure you too can recall… sitting on the floor in front of the black and white television set with all the neighborhood children waiting impatiently for hours for that exact moment in time with no chance of a "rewind" when a man named Neil Armstrong was going to be the “first to step on the moon”. This was also the phase of my life when my twin wasn’t impressed that I grew a head and shoulders past him, this was my pivot in time when I began to compete against others, academically, socially and especially in sport… In sprinting I was my brothers match, so competitive were we, that one day I was on his heels when he thought he’d stop me by throwing back the garden gate, well it did stop me abruptly, when I impaled my right thigh onto the extended latch. It actually worked out fine as that was a perfect spot to gauge all my miniskirts to in the next few years.

Gina was my best friend who ambled along with me through those Growing years of the late 60’s.

Fast forward to when I returned back to Ipswich to continue my nursing studies at St Andrews Hospital in the mid ‘70s. My waist was tiny and to it fell my dark, ruler straight hair that quickly was cut to my shoulders because I couldn't keep it under my nurse’s starched white cap. It had nothing to do with getting in late from the previous night of partying and rushing out the door for my six a.m. shift. My uniform was as stiff as a board until you pried it open from the mega starch ironed into every thread. My red wool cape kept the bite of the Ipswich winter from touching my shoulders. This was an exciting stretch; work, classes and study during the day and amusement at night, it didn't matter that we were all Queens on our Thursday payday and Paupers the next Thursday.

Gina and I were still very close, even with our social and careers taking off in different directions we still made every effort to see each other, she would pop over to visit me at my little house I rented or we’d go do the usual girly past time activity – what else... but shop in Brisbane. She was with me when I revealed the truth to myself that I needed to follow up with an important trip to America which finally parted us in early 1977. We continued our correspondence only for a few more years as we took on roles as wife and motherhood, living and age filled in the years. Even though there was an ocean between us, Gina was never really far away, all I ever needed to do was close my eyes and I could see her with lit up eyes smiling back at me.

Again Facebook found another friend for me. One night while hiding away in my downstairs office, I found a familiar face, even after all these years apart it was the eyes that hadn’t changed. Quickly our friendship was renewed through late night instant messaging on Facebook. We tried to jam all our years into a few pages through back and forth emails until finally our IMs became current news of the day with five to ten word sentences, we planned and got excited about my trip home, we pawed over dates to find the best week for my visit, we had jolts down memory lane and cyber walks through Ipswich where Gina still calls home.

This journey began 43 years ago as a child to finally reach today’s destination as a grandmother.

Here I am back to my Monday morning; to arrive in Brisbane, Brissy as Queenslanders call it. I could easily be visiting one of the cities in America. Looking down onto the city I saw tile roof tops predominantly red and white. The green vegetation is densely fenced between the houses not leaving much open white space or room for a yard. To travel from the airport to downtown Brisbane I traveled the Air Train, surprisingly as the name implies, it had no usual rail clattering sound, it rode extraordinarily smooth with an occasional gentle sway as if instead I was on a ferry.

My flight had arrived earlier than scheduled and Gina was to meet me at 4:30 at the end of her work day under the clock of King George Square. So I decided to make my way towards that end of the city following Anne Street.

Upon hitting the sidewalk I was immediately struck with how the aesthetic of the modern architectural design of steel and glass skyscrapers teamed seamlessly with the classic design and traditions of Brisbane giving an eye appealing contrast that so far, only this city has easily embraced so well.

The street buzzed with the usual scattering of people going to and fro on their venture but with yet another defining difference only this city has that others do not, and it is the barrage of the rigid uniformed dress code that is all about. Men with their dark trousers in either white or light blue shirts void of a tie. The women are also strict in their business attire of black and white with only a few women sprinkled amongst them wearing assorted colors. Occasionally filtering throughout I saw groups of laborers wearing the two toned mandatory outfit of lime green or yellow top-half and dark blue lower-half long sleeved shirts. As you can imagine I stood out as a carefree tourist in jeans, only I was secretly smirking that I was not bound to their puritan work force uniform.

I spent the next few hours of the afternoon in a cozy internet café on Anne Street, the perfect location to people watch and write as I ate a delicious ham salad baguette, the arrangement of desserts of course enticed me to include a thick slice of banana bread lightly buttered with a few tufts escaping the warmth of being freshly baked, I topped it off with the smoothest cup of cappuccino. Near the corner of the café, in a comfortable cushioned arm chair I had all intentions in getting my new adventures written down while they were fresh in my thoughts but I will admit I didn't get too much done as I was easily entranced by the continuous procession of people walking along the sidewalk or footpath as also referred to, and by the steady flow of the surrounding workforce walking in. I noticed with their familiarity with the counter man that they were surely repeat customers enjoying a traditional afternoon tea, some gathered for a few minutes with workmates either on similar arm chairs as mine or outside around small bistro table sets all in quiet whispers and others had what sounded like habitual conversations with the man pouring their coffee. I even was fascinated by the clever designs that were delicately made in the froth of the steamed milk to a form of a leaf or attractive swirl atop of each java.

My calculated wait passed way too quickly but not quick enough as I watched a solid blackness travel across the sky in front of me and spitefully the cloud opened up in a downpour hitting the pavement at the exact time people were hastily leaving work. Most who are employed here rely on public transportation which has a precise time schedule. This untimely rain was stopping the pedestrians from going anywhere, even those with umbrellas had taken refuge as that meager covering was no match to the pelting drops that hit at a harsh force. The torrent was so heavy I couldn't see to cross the road so I stood with others huddled under the protection of a nearby skyscraper’s massive entry way. I frantically called Gina to tell her where I was, the storm was cruelly playing havoc on the phone connection we got parts of our conversation across but significant chunks were muffled, all I could do was hope that she got the base of my message that I could see the clock tower, and King George’s Square was right beneath it but could not reach it, I’d get there when I could. All about me people watched for that break, ladies beside me who heard my conversation became sympathetic and began to chat. Twenty more minutes passed and the drops only got angrier, ten more minutes and we could see the other side of the road, but the road was like a river with many inches of rain flowing down, a gentleman came to me and wanted to assist me with my suitcase across this short crossing to the other side, where did he materialize from dressed in his business attire he must also be trying to get home, was my immediate thought, his gentle voice was reassuring so I gratefully allowed him to take my case while we ran between the raindrops to the other side, there I thanked him... while he handed over my property, he told me he just wanted to help me, then he turned returned with his head down so not to further get wet to the waiting familiar faces I had just left. I stood there looking towards this stranger and his gallantry until I realized I was getting soaked.

Quickly I walked down the footpath towards the heart of the city of Brisbane to the 92 meter clock tower that crowns the City Hall, but the rain again stopped me short instead I took shelter under a long roofed walk that abuts the court along with a handful of others trying to stay dry. Thunder began to clap simultaneously with lightning bringing oohs and ahhs from voices around me, the rain was pushing in the sides of this cover spraying those at the outer edge, we tried to elongate our group more to the middle so as to bring those on the edge in. We also noticed at the top of the cover a rather large group getting corralled and seated by a handful of police, that didn't look at all good, and the way my luck was running I’d be put in that group with no clue of what for, more police came and began circling, I wasn't in the mood to explain I wasn’t part of that group so I made my way down to the footpath, amazingly the sky began to lighten the raindrops began to lessen, this was my chance to make my way over the brick court to that clock to wait for Gina… who was somewhere still on a bus. No one was under the cover of the city hall, people began to skirt across the court and go right past me, my mind was going in all directions, the storm had disrupted our entire well laid out plans, and this hic-cup with no cell phone connection was now beginning to wear me down. As I looked at my phone and began to dial Gina’s number willing it to work, I heard a very English toned voice say, “Excuse me, do you know a lady by the name of Yasmin?” I looked up and there was Gina, about 10 feet to the left of me, with her head cocked to one side, outstretched arms and a smile beaming right up to those familiar eyes, I actually looked at my phone and laughed as that was some strength in my willing. We both just hugged each other while I listened to Gina’s calming questioning on my well-being. The torrential rain had taken away any look of being dignified and our energy was frayed, Gina’s hair framed her face into tight wet curls as water droplets hung as beads to the ends, and my hair tackled my scalp not knowing which way to lay, my leather shoes were sopping and Gina’s were now ruined. We both needed a breather before we took on the train ride to Ipswich so she sat with a hot coffee and I a well-deserved ice cream.

Central train station was mobbed more so than usual, besides being the end of the day rush; people had missed their routine ride and now anxiously waited for the next available transport out, anticipation of the storm and flooding was also fresh on everyone’s minds. I stayed in eye distance of Gina, not wanting to get separated as it seemed to me a million plus a few more people waited for the train. I noticed an industrial fan up on the wall and followed the angle of its airflow, judging where it should hit on the ground I made my way to that point, ahh I was correct, the gust was a welcome I could feel my hair blowing, my clothes were producing a coolness to my muggy skin, then a man stepped beside me, amused he told me he thought I was brilliant as he watched me find this spot.

Our train soon approached and the doors opened and strangely enough the throng easily took me along as if I was in the surf. We found two seats facing each other which was perfect as it allowed my suitcase to be out of the way and we now had forty minutes to unwind until we arrived in Ipswich and then only a few more minutes to Gina’s home and out of these damp clothes.

As the cabin voices melded into a drone, Gina and I settled down and began our own conversation with our seat mates, only to be interrupted by news over the intercom that a tree had fallen over the rails up ahead, and that we were going to be transferred to buses at Darra. Do you remember me telling you at the beginning of this story that I had an uneasy feeling about today… well maybe I should have listened to it and pulled the covers over my head! This is where my adventure hits its highlights.

All the passengers on the entire crowded train got off at the next station no one directed the crowd to where they were supposed to go so we just looked at each other and looked for guidance from some of the more seasoned passengers. I think I had an advantage over others because I had all the trail marks of a disoriented tourist and my thought was to follow that wave of people. The rain was falling again, people offered to share corners of their umbrellas to those standing beside them. This is when I found out that Gina had begun her homeward bound trip a few hours ago with an umbrella, only when she slid to open the umbrella the wind took hold and ravishly raked the canopy off leaving her to hold only the handle. Now that would have been a site to see as Gina is a beautiful lady, dressed in her business attire and immaculately coiffed hair and then I could imagine her saying something under her breath. Here she was her usual poised self and in control, now soaked. I knew my stamina was wearing thin as I listened to people around me get in their own tither. I allowed Gina to give me directions, and followed her to one of the awaiting buses. She took my laptop bag and I lugged the suitcase to find a seat right in the middle of the row. Again we settled down, the chatter as I looked up and down the rows came from people with their cell (mobile) phones to their ears conveying the same message, and then informing those around them of the impending rain and flooding in the area. I could hear the uneasiness and feel their tension as not many weeks ago most of Queensland had gone through a 100 year flood that crippled this area; the scares of that extreme rain level were still too fresh.

I needed to find some inner strength and I suddenly I remembered that gentleman who helped me cross Anne Street. His considerate actions jolted me back to my own convictions and that was that there is no reason to allow the moment to get me down as the events are out of my control, just go with the flow, “Make lemons into lemonade

We began the drive down the highway, I got into a lively conversation with people around me, and Gina sat and listened. Then I heard the irritation of people when they realized the bus was going back in the direction of Brisbane, the driver had made a wrong turn at one of those roundabouts “Silly Circles”, a passenger went up and gave the driver some bearings to get back around. The bus was full of frustrated whispers then again a gasp was let out and voices of “You’re going the wrong way again” were being blurted out. In all fairness to the driver, the rain was so heavy and the road obscure he surely couldn’t see signs, I couldn't even see outside the window. But for some unknown reason I began to laugh at the thought of going around those Silly Circles, my laughter relaxed the air and others began to laugh with me. I noticed people settling down and the tension had broken, my conversation with those around me wanted to be heard from people further down the aisle. And all I was doing was talking about my travels and answering inquisitive minds about America.

We finally get to the Wacol train station and waited with other traffic for the rising of the Boon bar at the rail crossing only with the heavy rain the electricity went out keeping the bar down, so the driver decided to reverse the bus, but misjudged and went over some type of curbing, with repeated trying to go forward he got the back wheels bogged down, at that moment I could hear Gina tell the people around me that, “Here she is, she’s traveled America and Australia and I can’t get her from Brisbane to Ipswich in forty minutes.” Those words were hardly finished when we felt the back of the bus swivel to the right and abruptly stop with an unexpected bang I saw a pole come in where I was sitting, the bus had slammed into a light pole and dented right where I was sitting. Upon hearing Gina’s words and seeing this pole I began to laugh uncontrollably, it was a hysterical laugh, people who heard Gina’s words now looked at me and began to laugh with me, and more of the bus began to laugh until finally the bus was clapping. I will tell you I couldn't believe what had just transpired, my laughter had changed the aura of the bus from anger, stress and frustration back to composure and clapping.

We still had to take another train to Booval so we trouped up and over then down the stairs of the railroad's overpass, our exhaustion had finally caught up, my day had begun so early and now I was mentally and physically gone my suitcase was wet I still looked like a drowned rat and I still had a little way to go. I actually was wondering if anymore lemons were going to roll my way. That thought hadn’t been away from my thoughts very long when standing on the platform waiting for the next train I looked down the track, and saw the headlight of a train standing stationary, but there was something amiss with that train, I looked again and noticed the track had maybe ten inches of water across it, “was that the reason why it was stopped way down the track?” I thought. I looked around to find only a few people now catching this train, I don’t think they had noticed the water as no one had mentioned it I chose to ignore it, so I turned my back to the track and lifted my face to let the raindrops land, the drops were gentle it even seemed slower and the trickles were having a calming affect over me. Then breaking into my peace I heard the train start up, I didn't move but swiveled my head to the left and watched as the train built up speed, faster, faster it came, pelting through the flooded tracks, I watched in amazement as the water was sliced in the middle and swept to each side of the rail then cascaded out and up to embrace both sides of the train, what a magnificent sight, I was momentarily mesmerized with the sight and sound, I was immediately struck with a children's story character, Thomas the Train saying to himself, “I think I can, I think I can, I know I can!” Where was my camera? This was a fabulous camera shot and all I could do was stare and stand still. You would have said I looked like a deer looking into a vehicles headlight, only when the train stopped in front of where I was standing did I move to then board the last train for the night.

This last leg was lighthearted with Gina retelling stories of our nearly three hour trip. Funny this afternoon when I began this forty minute ride Gina was amazed at how easy it was for me to turn to a stranger and begin a conversation, now look at her she is chatting like she knows these people. I just listened and quietly pondered over the day, and wandered if when I finally got to write this down if you would have enjoyed drinking a glass of lemonade with me. Friends if you love life, life will love you back.

I need to finalize this trek with... Two days later while I was again in Brisbane men actually walked up to me and Thanked me for an interesting night... on the train, and that I could travel with them anytime!

Every day may not be good, but there's something good in every day.