Punks, I’ve decided that Hobart is the place to be in summer.
Sure. There’s no humidity. The mercury doesn’t often hit 30. But, it’s bloody pleasant as all get out.
Tonight I went and met some of my ladies at a new food market that’s on each Friday at Franklin Square. It’s incredible. My dinner consisted of a fish taco, an arrancini ball and some delicious watermelon concoction. And, a delish strawberry dessert my Friend Who’s Also A Caterer jammed into my hand because I let her park in my front yard once.
Everyone sits on the grass in a square in the middle of the city and dances and chats and marvels at how nice the weather is. It’s super pleasant.
And, ladies, who are in the market for gentleman – might I say, I noticed loads of talent down there tonight. Healthy, Tasmanian, bushwalking talent.
It ended at 9pm, so about 8.45pm my pals and I headed to the carpark to get out car, in the middle of the city. And would you believe, it was closed.
This sounds like the beginning of a very boring story, but stay with me, it’s not, I promise.
You know how in Sydney, you’d ring the carpark button and they’d tell you to bugger off? The security dude buzzed us in. We were parked on the 9th floor, which meant almost 9 floors of singing amazing songs about being in the carpark.
When we finally got our car out to the exit, my pal and I are both losers slash our credit cards wouldn’t work, so we buzzed again.
Security dude: “Have you tried singing to it?”
What a champ. Out we went.
To this. This is Hobart, at 9.08pm. When are you moving here? xx