// Australian travel blog
When you fly into a city by plane not 12 hours earlier and promptly find yourself bathed in blue light, flanked by one each of a face-painted clown, and an elfin-like early-twenties hipster with a multi-coloured glittered beard and nose piercing, one would suspect you’ve fallen well off the trodden tourist path.
Indeed there was no path. Rather we’d followed an intriguing looking couple down the rabbit hole, so to speak, taking our chances that they were going somewhere interesting and not simply walking to collect their car from the dingy looking parking complex. The internet had delivered a name, but finding it was another story. Thankfully on this night we had picked the right couple.
It was rather serendipitous that (only later were we to find out), a bi-monthly no-holds-barred, theme-less dress up or come-what-may party fell on this very evening, and we had walked straight in. As we walked through, the bartender served up a smooth G&T with bitey fresh lemon – Australian-made, in fact by the guys two doors down who ran a little nook of a cocktail bar.
We quickly settled into a spot on the lounge, and people-watched. The outfits were mismatched and looked like a stripper and her boyfriend, a couple of furries, and some off-duty clowns had all walked into the wrong party, but had decided to just roll with it and stay anyway.
Across the lounge, a furry had removed their head, and was sitting with a friend, who was fanning them. It looked like a case of furry-head overheating. They were in a bit of distress, and it's friend was trying to fan them to help cool them down.