Working @ NRA Fashion Awards

Saturday morning..

I meet Paul. He comes up to Surfers. The rest is personal :-)

Matt and Oisin finally make it down to the coast as well, and we meet them on the beach in Surfers. Matt’s wearing a Canadian flag to protect himself against the super strong UV rays of midday. He obviously forgot his sunscreen :-) Oisin tells he had a big night out. So big that he didn’t make it back to the hostel room but ended up sleeping in their camper van parked in front of the house. No comments, you party animals! We also have a few gossips about the wonderful jobs in hospitality, the last payroll, and some plans for the near future, including Christmas. They are moving down to Sydney, whereas we are staying here on Gold Coast. You meet, you have fun, and you depart again. And again, and again. That’s the tough part of traveling, the sad side of backpacking. But the moments of continuous fun, memories of shared laughs, hard partying and getting to know each other are priceless. Definitely worth of doing it again, and again.

The day continues at the Gold Coast Convention and Exhibition Center where we are working @ NRA Fashion Awards. It’s probably one of the hardest nights on duty so far, although only five hours long from 5:30 to 10:30 pm. Fashion Awards is a big night broadcast on the national television, and everything has to run perfect. The briefing is quick as usual, but more serious and demanding. It’s made pretty clear that nothing has to go wrong, nobody is supposed to sit or wait, but run and work. ‘You have 7 minutes to clear 5 tables with 11 seats each, you do it in pairs as the entrée plates are super heavy. You’ll see. It makes less than 1.5 minutes per table which we admit is impossible. But you make it happen, guys and girls!’ Sure! ‘Some of the tables are of high priority as we have some important guests tonight. They can order whatever tickles their fancy, and we deliver them whatever is requested.’ Hmm, not sure. The whiteboard set up to explain who does this and who does that says I’m spare. Hey, what does that mean? They’ve got nothing for me? Hmm. Dream on K, you’ve got plenty of things, exactly like everybody else tonight. I end up working backhouse (almost like backstage :-)) and gotta keep things rolling on the hidden side of the big night, behind the curtains. Hello, backache, hello, little tired feet! And we walk back home to Chevron which is no more, no less than 45-minute walk away, at the usual high speed.. I love you, my bed, I love you, pyjamas! :-)