Canberra Trip Part 1 - Night journey through frost

Plans fretted over for weeks were finally in place. Bus booked, an itinerary of sorts planned. The Hellenic Club of Canberra informed of our needing 40 odd seats for lunch. A date with Eamonn of Football In The Capital set up. No turning back now. Skipped the Altona City-Altona East derby game in order to rest up a bit for the overnight coach ride. There's meant to be a small gathering at a pub beforehand, which turns out to be just that; three of us, a bowl of fries, and drinks. Somehow this is where I get roped in initially to helping a mate do his dodgy betting syndicate work. But more on that later.

After having a drink at the Water Rat, we rock up to Lakeside a little early, and see only a few recognised faces there, and a bus which may or may not be ours. About 10 metres away another group of people stand around, like us, waiting, but I'm not sure what for. They're probably thinking the same thing about us. Slowly more people start to arrive, and then we figure out that, yes, that is our bus. Moving across we greet those already there. The last one to arrive is of course a boardmember. Parking permits handed out, names checked off, banners and eskies are loaded onto the bus, finally on our way, Australian banner with South logo draped over the back seat.

I take a spot right at the back, with space next to me, and away from the majority of those intending to drink. The climate control chucked it in early. Frost blocked whatever view one could have seen, on a dark and overcast night. Not sure if anyone can see the flag out the back, but not sure that it matters anyway, more symbolic than anything perhaps. The first part of the official in-flight entertainment are highlights of South's early 90s years. From the back of the bus, it's hard to make out if people are appreciating what's being shown; while there's no pressure of course to make people watch, I wonder what all the complaining is about. If football didn't start in this country in 2005, did it start in 1996? Perhaps I'm too harsh. Perhaps I have too much reverence for that era. Perhaps people were busy enjoying themselves in other ways.

We stop at places with names and others, like Avenel, where it doesn't seem to matter either way. Like my trip by bus to the Gold Coast back in 1999, with so much of it night, it's hard to tell whether there's any civilisation connected to the petrol stations. And hard to tell what's on the other side the embankments, apart from shadowy black hills. The highlight of the stops was a McDonalds somewhere still in Victoria, possibly outside Wangaratta where one cook and one worker on the register were suddenly faced with the prospect of feeding 30 hungry South fans on what was probably meant to be quiet night at work. People patiently lined up, ordered, stood to the side while their meal was prepared, ate. It all went rather smoothly.

At every stop, getting off means getting the blood flowing again, staving off a sleep that won't come anyway for a little while longer, waiting until morning. It also means dodging cigarette smoke and toxic and noisy bursts of flatus. While the early part of the trip is lively enough, with the highlight being the necessary 2am phonecall to a supporter who pulled out to due to illness, and HFC chants while travelling through their Northcote heartland, eventually most people end up getting some sleep. I'm hoping to see at least some of the sunrise, but the frost, the mountains and the constantly shifting direction of the bus as it winds through looking for an entry point to Canberra defeat me. All in all, the journey was a blast, even this review may not seem indicate it was. How can you communicate the already forgotten conversations, the in-jokes, the hilarity of the moment which can't be transcribed, only experienced. Oh, and the multiple renditions of Frozen Tears' 'South Melbourne', which everyone gets thoroughly sick of by the end of the trip, but will treasure in their hearts regardless.