The Downs Not Quite So Darling, Actually

Another prolonged absence – sorry! This time I was on holiday.

I hear you exclaim “How exciting, Jasper! Was it a travelling holiday? Did you visit faraway lands? Meet strange people whose customs are foreign to you? Marvel at the primitive cultures that differ so much from your own? Was it the exotic thrill of a lifetime?”

The answers to these questions, in order, are: Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. No.

You see, I went to Toowoomba.

Toowoomba is known by many names. The Garden City, The Birthplace of Geoffrey Rush, T-Bar, or even The Volcano (because to get to it you have to drive up a mountain; but when you get to the top it’s a hole).

It’s also the only place I know of where time hasn’t only stood still, it has actually gone backwards.

Seriously, when it comes to time travel, it doesn’t get any more convenient than Toowoomba. You could faff about with Marty McFly’s DeLorian, the T.A.R.D.I.S., or even H.G. Wells’ sled-with-a-dangerous-looking-fan-attached; but you might struggle because a) they’re all fictional, and b) they generally end in disaster for one or more people. It’s much easier to just go to Brisbane, get in a regular car, and drive (at a regular speed) 119 kilometres west. Voila! It’s 1983.

Toowoomba is actually much bigger than its culture would suggest. It is a town of approximately 95,000 people; and yet it still operates like a tiny country town. It has about as much ethnic tolerance as an episode of Kingswood Country. Old people in Toowoomba will not even attempt to hide the fact that they are crossing the street to avoid a dark skinned person (which is why spray-tanning salons always go bankrupt in Toowoomba – they can’t get sustainable foot traffic). Many Asian restaurants in Toowoomba have deceptively non-Asian names, like Ocean Breeze, August Moon, or even Jonathan’s Cafe (for the record, Jonathan’s Cafe specialises in Indian curries. You’d never guess). I haven’t eaten in any of those places, but I’m guessing the spring rolls are called “snack tubes”.

Toowoomba also struggles to keep up with the times. The last time I was in Toowoomba, in May 2008, the third leading news story in the local bulletin was all about the current debate on whether or not to introduce Sunday trading. Something that has been a staple of the retail landscape since at least the early 1990s; still the topic of fiery discussion within the Toowoomba Chamber of Commerce.

And why is it the subject of debate? Why is it still necessary to spend every Friday afternoon pretending like it’s the apocalypse – stocking up on perishables and canned goods and toilet paper to ensure you can make it through the weekend? Because there’s some kind of Quaintness Preservation Society in Toowoomba that is afraid that Sunday trading will single-handedly eliminate the Olde Worlde Charme of the towne. And the Quaintness Preservation Society is made up of a bunch or hardnosed old bastards who have managed to keep Sunday trading – the apparent blight on baroque townships – at bay for the past twenty years. Not even Coles-Myer can break through their impenetrable, rustic shield.

Now obviously the name of the society is fake – I can’t remember the real one – but the reason behind this raging debate is real. I shit you not. And I don’t even know if the ban on Sunday trading still stands – this time around I had the good sense to go to Toowoomba mid-week. I’ve been living in the heady metropolis that is Canberra for four years, I need my shops OPEN, dammit.

And it’s at this moment you realise how bad the situation really is in Toowoomba. When someone who lives in Canberra – CANBERRA – says “Ugh, things are SO much better back home”, what hope is there?

PS: In the interest of fairness, and of not having a hit taken out on me by the one remaining friend I have in Toowoomba – if you do end up in The Volcano, and want to see a live gig, or just want a decent feed – go to Bon Amici. It’s run by the delightful Shannon Cook and her husband Cookie. (Logic dictates that his name is Cookie Cook? AND he cooks at Bon Amici! You can get cookies at Bon Amici, but I don’t know if the Cookie Cook cooks those cookies. He has cookies enabled on his computer, though. I’m going to try to convince them to move to Cooktown, purely for my own amusement.)