I used to work in Ipswich. Twice. For the same employer — the Queensland Times newspaper. It’s not a newspaper any more, it’s a website under the umbrella of The Courier-Mail, and the building that housed it for decades is now a dance studio. I hate to say it, but I drove through the centre of Ipswich the other day and I felt no desire to even get out of the car. It’s full of beautiful and historic buildings, but what ought to be the hub of a thriving community might as well have had tumbleweeds late on Monday morning last week. I saw maybe half a dozen people as I did the loop back from Limestone Street to Brisbane Street and headed home again.
This has been the story of Ipswich for as long as I’ve been going there. Despite several expensive attempts to revitalise the CBD, it just hasn’t caught on. Businesses have come and gone, and shopfronts are empty. And many Ipswich residents have always looked east — towards Brisbane and the great suburban shopping malls and now, increasingly, the thriving hub of Springfield, which seems — to me, at least — more and more like the commercial and cultural heart of the city. The opening of the Riverlink centre, with its shopping options, was probably the final nail in the coffin for the Ipswich “high street”.
My trip was just a few days after the launch of a campaign to get office staff who’d been working from home due to the pandemic to return to the centre of Brisbane. Incentives such as free breakfast boxes and coffee and are being offered to those who choose to work in town on a Friday. Somebody — I can’t find the reference — noted that Brisbane was at risk of becoming like the deserted downtown areas of some big American cities.
This concerns me, because I love the bustle and hustle of city life, and I always try to stay in the heart of town when I travel interstate or overseas. (Do you remember unimpeded travel?) Has the suburban spread reached its logical conclusion? With the internet making it possible to work, shop and play from home, are we at risk of being permanently holed up in our suburban fortresses? What’s needed to get people to return to the city? As always, your thoughts are welcome …
P.S. Most of Brisbane’s Regent theatre was demolished, ostensibly to make way for a commercial office tower. The Elizabeth Street site has been vacant for a decade, waiting for demand for office space to pick up. Of course, if people are not keen on working in the CBD any more, it’s unlikely that a new office tower would be viable. Ironically, an active live theatre might have provided a reason for people to come in to the city, and prevented those who worked there from disappearing back into the suburbs as soon as their shifts finished.
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SUPER VISION
Were photographs of the recent Super Moon better than the real thing? I don’t mean my photographs (see above), but the ones taken by professionals. It seems to me that real life often disappoints. As seen from my Brisbane back yard, the eclipse was far from impressive. When I saw the brilliant pictures online — especially those taken by my old newspaper photographer mates — I had to wonder whether I’d even seen the same thing as them.
CRUISE BLUES
I’m unhappy to report that my planned October getaway has gone out the window. Or the porthole to be more exact. I was going to take a short cruise up to the Whitsundays on the Carnival Spirit, but last week I got the email that I half expected — that cruise had been cancelled because, of course, of COVID. I could’ve had my money back, but I chosen instead to reschedule the cruise for another time — who knows when? — with the added bonus of a $450 onboard spending voucher. That might just take care of my bar bill.
Now I have to either cancel my holiday time or find something else to do in late October/ early November. It was to be my birthday treat — the idea being that I would be around other people, but not “with” them as such, so I could choose to be sociable or not. Can anybody suggest something else I could do that gives me that flexibility?
LUNCH DATE
I floated the idea on social media of conducting a semi-regular late, long Sunday lunch among friends and acquaintances. I’m thinking of the kind of the thing we used to call “brunch” when I lived in the UAE, even though it occurred in the afternoon and on a Friday. The thing is that, as much as I like this idea, I don’t want to be the one who has to organise it. Any takers?
Oh, and the idea of having it on a Sunday is purely selfish, because my “weekend” doesn’t start until 1pm on Sunday. Others suggest it’s dangerous to do such a thing on the eve of a “school day”. But, hey, go ahead and do it on a Saturday without me …
FEEDBACK
On the dilemma of the true name of Brisbane’s northern seaside jetty, as discussed here and on Weekends with Spencer Howson on Radio 4BC, Vanessa says: “It’s definitely called the Shorncliffe Pier now, but I believe it used be the Sandgate Pier.”
Jane says: “Shorncliffe Pier, of course! I’m in Brighton but I reckon anything further South of Sandgate belongs to the beautiful Shorncliffe community.”
Cr Jared Cassidy, the council opposition leader, notes the pier is “informally known as the Shorncliffe Pier by locals certainly (I grew up in Shorncliffe and always called it as such as a kid). But was officially Sandgate Pier until its reopening in 2016. The golf course in Shorncliffe is called the ‘Sandgate Golf Club’ for similar reasons.”
Cr Victoria Newton adds: “Shorncliffe used to be called Sandgate - so when the original Pier was built it was the Sandgate Pier. Indeed Shorncliffe train station was Sandgate station - and Sandgate was Sandgate Central.”
Peter notes that the “most important reason the pier exists is it’s the starting point of the Brisbane to Gladstone Yacht Race”.
And Barry says: “I don’t see any cliff.”
On the topic of changing your mailing address, Nick writes: “I do remember getting mail when I was living in Toowoomba for one person from one particular business, and no matter how many time we RTS and NATA (Return to Sender and Not at this Address) on the envelope, they kept sending him mail. Finally I wrote to the return address, not knowing if it would actually get to a human at all, and said ‘X no longer lives at this address. If fact, we don’t even know who the hell he is. Please stop sending us his mail.’ And that did the trick!”