Brisbane

“Oh, don’t worry about paying. The machine isn’t working today. It’s free.”

We’ve just stepped onto a riverboat in Brisbane. Last night, we arrived in Australia after a gruelling journey from Sheffield via Manchester and Doha.

We are jet-lagged, of course, but this is the start of our five months or so of continuous travel. It begins here, on the other side of the world. A place that once felt like a dream has become a reality.

The city botanical gardens are carefully maintained, hidden at the foot of Brisbane’s glistening modern skyline. The dream takes a slightly nightmarish turn when we see a bin chicken for the first time. Part turkey, part something otherworldly. Not giving a fuck, just rampaging through the bushes and onto the decking of the park cafe where we are having some much-needed caffeine.

At Lone Pine, we meet a koala who’s just as sleepy as we are and discover just how small a platypus is.

It’s all so surreal, yet there’s a familiarity to Brisbane that’ll be a constant theme of our time in Australia.

Beers at sunset by the river at Felons, eating fish and chips. The bridge above looking a bit like the Tyne Bridge between Newcastle and Gateshead. Familiar, friendly service in cafes and restaurants. A slightly run-down local high street that wouldn’t seem so out of place in my native South Yorkshire, lined with cheap late-night bars. Their names are different, but you can tell it’s just Yates, Wetherspoons and Slug & Lettuce, down under.

We’re still jet-lagged, still not entirely sure what time it is. But over fish and chips and a beer by the river, Brisbane already feels strangely familiar.

Five months of travel ahead of us. This feels like a good place to start.