When I was younger, I had an intense fear of the QVB (Queen Victoria Building – an elite shopping centre in the centre of Sydney). I wasn’t afraid of the shops, it was more the building. There’s three or four levels to it, and each level has a cut out bit in the centre so you can see people on the other floors. I always felt as if I was going to fall onto the other levels, or that the floor wasn’t strong enough and it was going to collapse around me. Weird, I know. I also have this thing about stairs. Especially stairs with big gaps on the side, or gaps between the steps. The stairs at the QVB are really big and pretty, but not so much fun to walk on. And now just to make you think I’m a complete loony, I’m also going to say I hate escalators. I always think I’m going to fall off the edge, or get sucked into it or something. The other day at the footy, I stepped onto the escalator (going down) and I must have stepped onto two bits at once because I completely slipped. I would have fallen all the way down if my darling daddy hadn’t been there to grab my arm. But yes, escalators at the QVB are in the middle of building, and if you look over the side you can see all the way down to the bottom floor, even if you’re going to the top. Scary stuff, I’m telling you.
Anyway, on Monday after Jack swam, mum decided it would be fun for us to go into the city. I’m not one to pass up on the city or shopping, so although the boys declined the trip I jumped at it. After a quick train ride (and being very close to missing a connection) we arrived at Town Hall station. At this point I realised mum had tricked me. I had assumed we were going to DJs or Myer, but walk out of Town Hall station and you’re in the QVB. You don’t even have to go outside. I took a deep breath and realised it wasn’t as bad as my eight year old mind remembered. There were new safety barriers so you couldn’t fall off the side. Some escalators were out of order. There were cute shops (although most were out of my currently saving price range) and we had lunch at a gorgeous little French style cafe. We met up with my aunty who is in wedding planning mode (three weeks tomorrow and I still haven’t had my dress taken in) and just generally had a good time. After three hours, when mum decided we should head back if we wanted to go to the netball, I was ready for more shopping.
So yeah, the moral of this story is no matter how scary a shopping centre seems in your memory, it’s a shopping centre. It can’t be scary, so go and have fun!
frangipani princess xoxo