Sunday Session #6 | The Adventures of Mt. Coot-tha’s Botanical Garden

Tucked away in the city of Brisbane and the ever-expanding state of Queensland, two single gals find themselves gathering for a dinner or brunch date. Like an episode of Sex And The City, their conversations often revolves around the ever spinning glass doors of sushi, cocktails and the highly humorous stories of cocks, dildos and epic dating fails.

Like any adventure that consists of Lady Blacksnot III, a crazy idea and myself, it often comes about when we find ourselves every few weeks with an available weekend tucked away and up our sleeves. As to whether these bad boys have been stored for a rainy day or a weekend of vodka induced exploration and food babies; these babies come about when one finds themselves being lectured about how “he’s not good for you” over dinner and cocktails.

Whether our healthy eating and Paleo loving diet gets thrown to the wind without a side of caution for a weekend of indulging the senses and taste buds, we find ourselves ducking off for another adventure and location that we can add to our list of accomplishments.

Also its an excuse to pretend we’re Indiana Jones for the day.

Although the idea of khaki, a Stetson and knife sounds like a fashion faux pas and I should come with a ‘dangerous goods aboard’ tag, I often forget one critical and somewhat tiny detail when it comes to planning these weekend adventures. Said critical and somewhat tiny detail doesn’t come to mind until I found myself in a dress with flats, trudging up a mountain and then it suddenly hits me: Lady Blacksnot considers resting for the weak.


Unlike capturing the picturesque moment of Lady Blacksnot being swaddled be a gigantic tree one Sunday morning, there’s been plenty of these moments over the years where I’ve captured them after having trailed after LBS like a forgotten and ill-equipped five-year old.

Who in my mind, I happen to represent the worst brat of a child you could be forced to baby sit for the day as I spend the majority of the time retracing Lady Blacksnot’s footsteps, complaining about having sore feet or being out of breath. Stemming from lack of exercise and incorrect footwear or walking off the beaten track and getting lost.

Only to find that I have left the country and am now on route to Timbuktu, Mali, Africa.

So you can only imagine my delight when Lady Blacksnot III and I found ourselves one Sunday morning, discovering the ins and outs of what Brisbane had to offer. Or rather, what the Botanical Gardens at the bottom of Mount Coot-tha had hidden amongst the winding pathways, heavily shrubbed walkways and over a couple of bridges that weren’t guarded by trolls.

We even came across a beautifully stunning waterfall that trickled past before plunging to a rushing drop, only to race off into the trees in the distance. Unfortunately, there were no beautiful or glorious mermaids swimming in and out of the falls.


After having both survived a crazy week of college and storm trooping through Queensland’s Supreme Court, Lady Blacksnot suggested we start our weekend off with a bang. With Friday’s evening spent surrounded by empty cups that once contained an excellent, cringe worthy punch and Saturday spent succumbed to the regretful hangover on the couch while dealing with a food baby, we decided Sunday would be the cherry to the sundae.

Or in our case, chocolate vodka cake and pina coladas.

Before we found ourselves skulking around the Botanical Gardens at the bottom of Mount Coot-tha hill in the hopes of finding a few fairies or mermaids, we decided we’d start the morning off with a to-die-for brunch that consisted of Mr. Hunk and Maggie, a close girlfriend of ours who decided to fly in on the spur of the moment.

Having discovered that Mr. Hunk came with a wife and 2 children, LBS and I decided we would climb into her bitching Ferrari before making the small and entertaining trip down the hill. There amongst the trees and winding branches that spanned across the sky before ducking into a tropical oasis in the glass building to spy on fish in their natural habitat, I managed to capture some incredible moment of Lady Blacksnot and I’s adventure of the day.


With the only acceptable and slightly less cringe worthy photo of me sitting like Queen Elizabeth I on her throne and in all of her glory, I told Lady Blacksnot III to take my seat on the carved, stone seat.

After fussing around and moving her shoulder back and forth until I was comfortable with her position, I gave Lady Blacksnot clear reign and managed to capture the essence of who Lady Blacksnot, part-time lawyer and full-time Bitch, is.


As a couple strolled past with hands linked as the other hand pointed off into the distance, I turned back to LBS and managed to capture my favourite photo of her for the day.

There surrounded by fragrant pine tree that remind us both of Christmas and winter was a not so “emotionally suppressed or stunted” LBS. Having spoken of Lady Blacksnot III as a cold-hearted bitch over the last 4 years, who isn’t capable of cracking a smile or being around those who appeared like they were happy; I caught one of two photo of Lady Blacksnot laughing.

I think its safe to say Dearest Reader, that Lady Blacksnot III looks relatively human like while moving a lot of facial muscles I didn’t know she possessed.


It was only after capturing LBS laughing that we both decided to trail through the garden to see what else was available for us to poke, prod, touch and capture in a 1000 word photo. After stumbling through the tropical rainforest that had more sounds than visible sight, we came out unscathed at the end of the tunnel.

Lifting hands to ward off the sun that was streaming into our eyes and allowing said eyes to adjust, we found the quaintest little entry into the Japanese Garden. As LBS and I strolled the garden like we were back in England and retracing the steps of those who used to stroll through Hyde Park to be seen, we left the garden behind for a little lesson on Discovering The Art Of Bonsai.

After becoming professionals of bonsai after discovering the art and what it takes for a bonsai to be created, we followed the trail ahead and came to a stop at a metal and glass building. As I swept my gaze from the white pavement up the grey walls that appeared to be weathered after years of seasonal changes, my eyes latched onto the beautifully shaped dome roof.

As my love for architecture seemed to kick into overdrive that could have seen me stand there for quite a few hours, just simply staring at the structure and how it all moulds together, LBS called out my name and effectively cut my attention to her.


Waving a pale hand in a ‘come on’ motion that I see mothers use with their children when they aren’t doing what they’re meant to be doing, I glanced up at the roof once again and walked towards an exasperated looking Lady Blacksnot III.

While holding open the door for a Dad who had his son on his shoulders, I saw Lady Blacksnot ahead of me and as I took a step into the building, I left the cool air conditioner for the humid, tropical warmth of North Queensland.

As I sucked in a warm breath that reminded me heavily of the dry and humid summers in Redneck County, it was funny how easily my body adjusted to the difference in temperatures after so many years of not living on the land.

Forging ahead, I found LBS trailing her way up the curved walk way and I couldn’t help but laugh at how tiny she looked in height and body width as compared to the trees, ferns and other greenery that surrounded the sides of the building.


With LBS taking the lead and me trailing happily behind as I sneaked a few touches of the different leave textures and stopping every now and then to think about the ferns that used to live in my bathroom as a child, we eventually came to the end of the curved and dirty concreted pathway.

At the end of the curved pathway that lead you to the epicenter of the building, I was secretly hoping for a tree with branches that swept down and around like a pair of arms or a fern the size of Goliath. Instead, Lady Blacksnot and I were greeted with a family of four peering over and through a glass wall and a podium.

As we ignored the family while finding a spot big enough to fit both LBS and I on our sides, as LBS peered over the glass wall into what lay beyond, I glanced over at the podium. There on the steel plated information bar contained the wording that alerted the reader as to what particular breed of fish lay in the murky, green water.

Looking away from the information stand that spoke of said fish being North Queensland Barracuda, I watched as they swam in packs with the lone one trailing at a large distance behind. But the thing that proceeded to capture my attention wasn’t the lone fish, swimming to its own drum or content.

Rather the silver, tarnished and burnt cooper coins that littered the bottom of the tank caught my attention instead.


We lingered for a few more minutes, soaking in the humid warmth of the glass building while watching the barracuda swim to their content. Not before long, we glided down the concrete pathway that would see us leave the domed building and fish to the next swarm of people to watch them in their finest.

Only stopping every few moments to adjust a shoe or touch a leaf or frond, LBS and I decided that our next stop of calling would be the ever-expanding garden of succulents. As I strolled past cacti that were well and truly over six feet tall and as wide as you can possibly imagine, I found a nest of small little succulents with the prettiest of flowers.

But do you think for the life of me and my sister-in-law, I could take a pretty decent photo?

Having grown frustrated with each photo that was taken as it was either blurry, a shadow was cast over the flowers or I wasn’t simply feeling the photo, I decided that it was best to live in the moment and stop trying to take photos. As this quote floated through my head, I remembered a time I once said the same sentence to someone and with that, burst out loud with laughter.


Over the next few minutes that I spent chuckling on a private moment of the past, Lady Blacksnot III suggested we follow the path ahead of us. When I finally able to stop snickering like a naughty child who wouldn’t give up the secret, we found ourselves talking about the past, present and future as we strolled along the newest and most recently added path.

With a pause or two to take a couple of photos before safely putting away my phone for another day, I listened as any girlfriend would do about the deepest and darkest concerns that LBS had. Unlike my concerns of becoming barren as a result of losing one or both ovaries due to a rather large and uncomfortable cyst that had taken up residency or moving into a spinster pad at twenty something,  Lady Blacksnot’s fears and deepest secrets were equally concerning as well.

But like any girlfriend in this circumstance Dearest Reader, I shan’t be giving out those secrets as they are simply that, secrets.

As we wrapped up a few hours of visiting yet another exotic destination that lay amongst the ever bustling city of Brisbane, Lady Blacksnot III and I found ourselves farewelling yet an amazing weekend spent laughing, being reduced to food comas and the ever fabulous discussion of dick sizes and micro-peens.

However in any true Scarlett fashion and style, I couldn’t help but capture this last picture that simply says everything about the adventures awaiting in Mt. Coot-tha’s Botanical Garden.


Until next time,

~S xo


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