Newcastle Adventure: Day 1

Well, I wasn’t sure if I was going to blog while I am here, but my adventure has been so excellent already, I just had to tell someone about it. Who better than the bloggeroos?

What is this wonderment? Read on...

I think I went into a bit of shock when I saw how tiny the plane was. It was tiny – not like a ‘4-seater, let’s just pop out to the island death trap’ tiny, but still… small. And the hostess didn’t even look at my ticket. I had this sudden panic that they were putting me on the wrong flight and I was going to end up somewhere bizarre and remote. It didn’t help that someone said the word “Charleville” right after I sat down. Who would want to go to Charleville I ask you? Oh that’s right, that’s where Boyfriend is going tomorrow for 7 weeks. I was pretty sad about that actually and when I got into my seat, I had a few little tears. But we then literally spent half an hour waiting to take off, and I didn’t want the lady next to me thinking I was crazy slash afraid of flying, so I dried my eyes and ate some candy. Good.

Upon arriving in Newcastle, I instantly struck up a friendship with my taxi driver, whose name is Kerry, and who has offered to be my personal driver for the week, should I need one. What? Is this real life? Does this happen? I have his mobile number, it’s so strange. And excellent.

Kerry didn’t know anything about TiNA, which was momentarily frightening, but every one else I’ve encountered so far has known instantly that I’m “here for the festival”. The guys who run the backpacker’s I’m at are awesome, and super chilled out. Which made me feel better when at first they couldn’t find my booking, and had also put someone else in my room. It’s ok, they kicked them out.

I went in search of the place I had to go for the volunteer induction. Couldn’t find it, asked someone: “oh, you’re here for the festival” – it wasn’t a question. Found it. Found out where I need to be tomorrow. Got a map and a *lanyard* (love a good lanyard) and went on my merry way. Busses are free on the main street until 6pm (fucking wow!) so I got one of those into the “city”. I’m not trying to be rude; I know what people from real cities think of Brisbane, but oh Newcastle, you so small!

I ate some Pad Thai and tossed up between my two options for the evening: drinking at the pub where I am staying, possibly meeting people, possibly drinking too many $3 drinks OR going to Avenue Q at the Civic Theatre. Tough choice, but I eventually decided on option 1 and began walking back, via the mall.

There were some people, and they were shouting. I briefly considered walking the other way in case they were youths who were going to harass me. But do you know who it was? Only the only person in Newcastle that I know, Alex and her brother, Fin. What is this? Some sort of fiction? Alex and I have never actually met before tonight, but why let such extraneous details get in the way?

There were other people, they led us to a red door beside a sign saying “construction site: do not enter”, we entered. Past a blowy vent, up a rickety stair and into this open, white walled, polished floored space. Suddenly, I was ripping pages from books, and making these:

I’m not really sure how that happened. We talked about Doctor Who and the festival and the relative merits of taping or stapling the cones.

It was the best introduction to TiNA and NYWF I could have hoped for.