Old man winter

It is 7 p.m. on the first day of winter in Australia.

And I am wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

The patio door to the balcony is wide open and other guests at the hostel are outside eating their dinner on picnic tables. This, my fellow Canadians, is simply not fair, is it?

At least it's almost summer in the northern hemisphere. That ought to be some consolation.

It's been good fun listening to certain Aussies chatter about the "cold" lately. Last week a girl I worked with told me she has been just freezing at night and always wears two jumpers (sweaters) at home. I told her I've still been sleeping with just a bedsheet and the window partly open.

Even funnier, the other day a radio announcer expressed concern when he saw a young woman walking down the street in the early morning with long, wet hair. She was sure to catch a terrible cold, he said. It was +15 degrees outside.

Everything, including what constitutes hot and cold weather, is truly relative.

Why the Aussies even bother with following traditional European seasons is a bit of a mystery to me. There are really only two seasons Down Under as far as I can tell: warm and hot. You'll notice that seasons don't start and end on the same day as they do in North America. The first day of autumn was on March 1. Winter (as mentioned) started today. I can only guess that spring will come on Sept. 1 and summer on Dec. 1. I haven't yet figured out why this is.

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I've happily finished a string of five shifts at the Brisbane Convention and Exhibition Centre today. It's not the worst place I've ever worked, but it's surely the most humongous. The centre's entire floor area is equal to the size of 462 full-sized tennis courts, according to its website.

This week's massive convention was the Australian Tourism Exchange, where tourism industry professionals from around the country and overseas descended on Brisbane to explore all manners of tourist activities in Oz. On Monday we did a cocktail party for 2,300 guests. On Tuesday and Wednesday we did sit-down lunches for 1,500-1,700 people. Yesterday and today we did buffet lunches for 1,200-1,400. If you think setting 170 tables of 10 with silverware, plates, glassware, wine and soft drinks is a good time, think again.

The sheer size of events at the convention centre makes it an impersonal, factory-like place to work (this despite the centre's motto: "Making Events Personal"). You are issued a uniform when you sign-in for work (amazing they don't also issue you a computer chip for tracking your identity and location). After you've changed, you are corralled into gigantic service elevators and taken up to the function rooms when work is to begin. You are "briefed" on the day's function and a roll-call is taken. Supervisors are called "captains" and they frequently shout out orders for the remainder of the shift. The best (only?) course of action is to submit obediently to their wishes and prepare to roll with the punches. It is the closest I've come to being in the military yet.

Perhaps that isn't a fair thing to say. The people in charge at the convention centre are actually quite nice, given the circumstances. Still, I simply cannot imagine working at these sort of massive functions for the rest of my life. It just isn't for me.

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News bulletin: I am soon to see real live koalas, kangaroos and platypuses. Brisbane's Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary is not too far from where I'm staying and it does seem worth a visit. I had hoped to see some cuddly critters in the wild (this is why I avoided going to Sydney's zoos). But the koala sanctuary is wilderness-like and lets you see all sorts of animals in one place. Plus, I simply can't wait any longer! Will take plenty of pics, to be sure.