Snapshots: A Weekend With Mr. Flynn

Today was one of those perfect winter days in Brisbane. The sky was clear, the temperature was warm and the light that covered the green hills of Paddington was simply magic. It was the type of day that implores you to go outside.

And today we had the perfect reason to do just that.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

It's been raining here in Southeast Queensland for nearly two days straight. A mix of heavy downpours and gentle but steady dripping have resulted in floods, road closures, and even some home evacuations in a few pockets of the region. And while I enjoy the tranquil sound of rain (especially last night as I watched Nadal in the Australian Open), I wish it would just stop already. 

I realize rain is good, especially in a region that, up until recently, has been in a severe drought. But it was only a year ago that this city was submerged underwater from one of the worst floods ever, and those who experienced the devastation are a little on edge. 

Of course a repeat of what happened last year is highly unlikely, given the situation is different now than it was then. (Last year it rained heavily in the months leading up to the floods. Plus, the dams were so full that water was released from them just days prior, causing water levels to rise around Brisbane. Management of the dams is still under scrutiny and has become an election issue.) 

But even though the scale of this week's drenching won't come close to last year's, friends whose houses were damaged by the 2011 floods would probably like to have at least a year off of worrying if they should pack up again. So please rain, lay off. 

Here are a few snapshots of last year's floods, taken by my dear friend Shae. 

I believe this was taken in Graceville, which was one of the hardest hit areas.

Cleaning up in Rosalie. I live just 2kms from here.

I was lucky enough to be stateside during this disaster, however I wish I had been around to help my friends during the aftermath. It sure was a mess. 

So rain, rain, please go away, come again another day. (Preferably for just a brief shower or two.)

Simple Acts of Kindness: Benevolent Baristas

For me, coffee in Paddington usually means heading to one of three places: Anouk (where I can also chow down on some fresh and flavorsome food); Merlo (one of Brisbane's most recognized roasting houses); or Hamptons Home Living (a homewares shop/cafe with a gorgeous deck out back where you can sip lattes and take in the views over leafy Brisbane.)

But, yesterday, when I needed a refill of coffee beans and an afternoon energy boost, I took the advice of a friend and strolled on over to Urban Grind. 

With our grinder on the fritz, I ordered 400 grams of beans and asked the lovely 30-something barista to grind it up for me to use in my plunger. I asked about cold coffees, which I don't normally drink, but having just walked up the hill from my house to Latrobe Terrace in 30 degree heat, I was in the mood for something icy cold. After getting a sense of the kind of coffee I like (and don't like), he recommended the house-brewed iced coffee with a dash of milk. Yes thank you, I'll have one of those. 

Another barista rang me up. "That comes to seventeen dollars eighty," she told me. I asked if she took debit cards to which she replied, "Sorry, cash only." Uh oh, I thought to myself, looking over at the mustached and goateed barista already at the grinder with my beans. I counted out my coins. Fourteen dollars and ten cents was all I had. (Change in Australia includes $1 and $2 dollar coins; it adds up fast.) But before I could even tell her how much I had she said, "Don't worry about it, just bring it in next time." 

What? 

This wasn't just 20 cents she was talking about, this was $17.80! That's not chump change. And for all she knew there may never be a "next time." After all, with my accent, most people assume I'm just visiting. 

"Oh no," I said, a bit stunned. "I have fourteen dollars in change," I assured her, thinking we would just take the coffee off. "Great, well just drop us the rest next time you're by," she replied, smiling. I told her I'd duck down to the ATM. There was one a few blocks down. "Don't worry about it," she said. 

"Wow, thanks," I said, surprised but happy to know I'd still get my iced coffee.

I  took a seat on a low stool in front of a large open window that looked out to the street. A couple minutes later he delivered my tin of coffee and she delivered my chilled drink—both with a sincere smile.

As I left I promised to return soon with the money I owed. "Really, don't even worry about it," she called out.

I walked out of Urban Grind with delicious coffee in my belly and a huge smile smeared across my face. Pardon my cheesiness but People are awesome, and I'm loving my new neighborhood every day.