Discovering the world, one bite at a time!

Lube Your Cube

The first day of my next adventure. I don’t want to bandy that term “adventure” around as I am most likely overstating what will take place over the next two weeks and change. Chances are I will see a castle and gain weight. My adventure is somewhere on the spectrum between orienteering on a Grade 5 camp and Felix Baumgartner

but hopefully the result sits somewhere in the centre, most likely near some of Ferdinand Magellan’s early work.

With bags packed and air in my lungs, my parents did the traditional airport drop off. It’s cheaper than an Uber but not after you factor in the duty free goodies that are exchanged on the return. I think it is all part of their wily scheme to obtain perfume (Mum) and a tower of liquor (Dad).

Model of Wellcamp Airport near Toowoomba. Look how the grass had freshened up after the recent rain

The first flight from Toowoomba to Sydney went well and it was wholly due to the Attendant who put me in exit rows for each flight. A smile, manners and self-deprecating humour can go a long way people.

Next to me on the plane was a retired Army gent who was on his way to Canberra. We only got talking because he was sitting near a teenager who had taken my seat. We bonded over the shared dislike of the dumb kid who had now found his allotted seat. Talk ranged from his tours of Kuwait, the Adelaide Hills, his promiscuous teenage daughter and his son who is into Rubik’s Cube.

I know what you are thinking, “wasn’t that a fad in the 1980’s and it is now 2018?”. You are right, but there is a subculture of “Cubers” that eat, breathe and live these stickered toys of frustration. His son who carries his hobby everywhere with him is frustrated that he can’t solve it in sub 10 secs (his best is 10.something and the world record is 4.59 secs)

He gave me an insight into the inner sanctum of cubers so come close and I will whisper the secret to their success. Lube. Without it you might as well resort to ripping the stickers off. So go out, buy one, lube it up and you will have the time of your life.


I am the first to put my hand up and say that I butcher the Queen’s English but the middle aged lady waiting for transit between Terminals 1 and 2 took it to another level as only western Sydney people can. Her upcoming tour, tripping “Hung-gary and Greeesseee” was impossible to not hear as her phone was on speaker throughout – drowning out the boarding calls over the PA. Hung-gary? I couldn’t work out if she was also going to Budapest or whether she was travelling to the Greek Islands with a travelling companion who was won the genetic lottery (as she would say lotta-ree) and I wasn’t the only one that was confused judging by the sideways glances and blushes.

Time for food, music, a book and a laugh with a stranger. I have 7 hours to kill. Until next time…


0 Responses

  1. Here we go! Great start Brad. You’ve inspired me already. I’m off to the store to get some lube.

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