Little fish are sweet.

On Monday I went walking with Sandy. This is part of a bigger plan to get myself "match fit" for 2013 and 14  when I am booked to go bush walking with my brother and his friends. We are doing the Great Ocean Road walk and Tasmania. This is one of my 5 year plans. I have several, walking Australia is one, followed closely by walking New Zealand. My other plans include winning the lottery and writing a best seller novel based on my grandfather's walk to the Somme. I am a woman of a great many plans.

Monday was a starting point. It was of course one of the hottest days in Brisbane. A right stinker of a day. Sandy had not long come off night shift. We met in the car park at the base of Mt Coot tha. There we discovered the coffee shop was open and air conditioned. A chai latte and a skinny flat white later we braved the heat of the day. Our first decision was we would explore the botanic gardens  and, once we found our way, we would look at taking a brisk walk. We found a map, struggled to find our glasses and read it. We began to wander away from the safety and comfort of the cafe.

We got as far as the desert garden overlooking the small lake in front of the cafe. It was hot. Damn hot. A compromise was struck. We decided to walk in the shady area, find the bonsai gardens and walk around the botanical garden rather than attempt a brisk walk up to the top of Mt Coot Tha. We would wisely stick to the shade. I would have sweated buckets except the heat sucked all moisture from me. I was hot and Sandy was tired. We chatted and took pictures and in moments we were both hot and tired.

There was no relief. We looked again at the map of the gardens and realised they  are quite big. Large and generous. Acres of gardens with roads and pathways aplenty. Miles of walking tracks. Best discovery of the day - a free bus ride.

We stood in the shade of the bus shelter. Sandy was in her element taking photos of plants and critters. She knew so much and could quote the Latin names of different plants. I realised that I know the names of very few flowers and even fewer herbs. Thankfully, we arrived at the rose garden. There I was able to recognise, red, yellow, white and a strange green rose. "A rose is a rose is a rose". Gertrude Stein knew as much about gardening as I did.

The bus ride (air conditioned) was cut short by a large pump placed in the centre of the road. The taped tour guide was turned off and the driver tried his best to make the drive interesting. Obviously he did not take in the recorded narration and he had to ad lib. Unfortunately, he was not a man of many words and the highlight of the trip, a series of totem poles were described as "some sort of art thing done by a lady". I think he was impressed by her ability to use a chainsaw.

Out of the blessedly cool bus and back into the harsh sunshine. Still too early for lunch, we wandered around until we stumbled like Burke and Wills into the bonsai garden. Japan is the place to see magnificent tortured trees. The Mt Coot Tha replicas were a little sad looking. To be fair, by then we, too, had run out of water.

The fern house and the dome provided some relief. It was like walking back in time or onto the set of "Terra Nova". I could have been in Cairns it was so humid. Sandy spied another lizard and began stalking the poor creature with her camera. Success, beast is captured and stored for future use.

Brisbane's botanic gardens are worth the visit. I would suggest a cooler day, and allow plenty of time and take an ipod or a book and a plan to just sit and enjoy the "serenity".

We had finally walked up an appetite and surrendered again to the coolness of the cafe. While one side of the cafe is indoors the larger part is a huge covered deck over looking the gardens. A lovely cool breeze enticed us to move out  to the deck. It stayed with us, making our meal all the more relaxing and enjoyable.

Beer Battered Barra

Special of the day was beer battered barramundi chips and salad. It included a free XXXX, to compliment the BBB, I suppose.  Sandy and I both went for the special, opting for soft drink rather than beer. We seriously began to rehydrate and appreciate our spot on the deck. We looked out over a lake with ducks ducking and birds skimming the surface. The whole place was having lunch with us.  This was the best part of the walk - no doubt about it.

The barra was moist and flaky, the batter almost a tempura, light and gentle. Thankfully, the plate was not overwhelmed with chips, and I was able to scoff the lot and still feel a little virtuous. The salad was standard fare with a sweet balsamic dressing. Finally, a small bowl of creamy mayonnaise/tartare/aoli like sauce, enough to dip the chips  and keep the kilos firmly on the hips.

As we ate our meal, critters and birds visited and gave us a certain look. Each eyed off  the remaining chips that Sandy (tall and thin) had obviously decided not eat. My plate looked like it had been scoured and hoovered.  Suddenly, Sandy darted off, chasing  another lizard down, her camera,  whirring and clicking in  the frenzy of a chase.

Bazza the Bold, a beautiful magpie flew up and tucked up his wings, business like. He eyeballed me, daring me to move and leave Sandy's chips unguarded. I looked in to the  ancient eye of the Cracticus tibicen , for a moment, an instance in the cosmos, I was one with nature. Softly, I warbled, one soul to another.

"Back off,  Bazza, as soon as Sandy ducks under the next table, the chips are mine".