Welcome to Brizzie! The Queensland capital where the future looks Olympic. What you see here is what you get- which means informal, direct, relaxed. In seven years’ time the world will log on, sit back and bask as Brisbane plays host to the Games of 2032. It’ll be some party. Right now I’m here in pursuit of a Story - the Story Bridge, named after a Scot - and its Adventure Climb - not to mention the Scottish legacy (still found in district names like Morningside, Balmoral, Kelvin Grove, MacGregor, Robertson) and street names such as Armstrong Street or Edinburgh Castle Road. From my lofty room in the Crystalbrook Vincent, a modern art hotel overlooking the tortuous twists of the Brisbane River, at 6am, I see far below the Rivercat ferries like tiny toys, carving arcs from bank to bank while along the serpentine strip of Riverwalk runners and joggers, power-walkers, cyclists, a purposeful existential stream of human endeavour is up and running - evading death or speeding towards it. The city’s dream to host the Olympics is now a reality, and Brisbane’s latest fame-grab is - to quote the man responsible for bringing those games to life - “to make Brisbane recognised by the world as a Tier-One city.” No small aspiration. The Crystalbrook Vincent sits under the bridge in the cultural riverside hub now known as Howard Smith Wharves - a re-purposed zone of recreational and performance spaces, new restaurants and a micro-brewery. I recall it as almost moribund and derelict on my last visit. Back then, 14 years ago, Brisbane seemed somehow adolescent in its swagger. Today it possesses the grown-up resolve to live out its dream. And I’m here to live mine - to climb the imposing Story Bridge, named after Scottish pioneer, John Douglas Story, one of the 19th-century founders of this city which stands on the lands of First Nations peoples, the Turrbal and Yuggera. The bridge is heritage listed, spanning the twisting restless river from Kangaroo Point to Fortitude Valley, (casting its shadow each afternoon across my bedroom), it stands 243 feet above the river and is the longest cantilever bridge anywhere in Australia. More to the point, the Adventure Bridge Climb, second only to BridgeClimb Sydney, promises windswept, “stunning views… and the thrill of history”. I’m sold. Latched to the rail as we ascend, (health and safety to the fore), zipped into our jump suits, five rookie climbers, (two clinging newly-wed Americans, two Japanese, myself and climb-leader, Sam, from Devon, attempt the first-ascent of the day, Sam spraying facts about the history of settlement: the Scots, the Irish, the English, while directing us to cast our gaze towards the silhouette of the skyline’s chrome and glass totems. Kelsi and Justin, (as newly-weds ought), are holding tight, not looking down. Reader - we survived. I head to Tai Tai for lunch, in the vibrant riverside ‘Cultural Quarter’, (the Gallery of Modern Art, Brisbane Museum), where I dine al fresco beside the ‘Brown Snake’, (the locals’ nickname for the river), enjoying a flavour burst of South East Asian soup and spicy pork. My server, (Malaysian), calls himself Stewart, while manager, Ian, is a Robertson from Dunfermline boasting a granny from Portree. “I’m well assimilated,” he grins, pointing out the pontoon where I catch the Citycat, (a free ferry ride), to my digs on the other side. The winding river grants Brisbane a grandeur unmatched by Australia’s other state capitals. Graced at intervals by gardens of oleander, jacaranda, figs, and swathes of sub-tropical bush it invites recreation. Bisbaners love it for the man-made striking Streets Beach - a simulated tropical paradise with palm trees, a blue lagoon, white sandy beaches and chill-out vibe. While the river feels open, the city hoards secrets within its high rise. I seek to unlock them with Local Sauce Tours, whose city guide, Saskia, mentions her bagpipe playing granddad as she strides me into the looming smoked glass labyrinth of buildings, finding gems from a century past: St Stephen’s Cathedral, and older still, the great domed Customs House, floodlit at night, and the super opulent Regent Theatre, ornately magnificent. Round two corners lies City Hall in King George’s Square, a public space where citizens rally in times of crisis and celebration. Its dominant statue - the Petrie Tableau - lauds the importance of the city’s founding family. The Presbyterian, Andrew Petrie settled in 1842. He nurtured relations with the Turrbal, and became the first mayor of the settlement which had been named for Thomas Brisbane, the New South Wales Governor, originally from Largs. Inside City Hall, the most prized exhibit is the “Largs Door” removed from the entrance to Thomas Brisbane’s Ayrshire home and presented in 1958 by the Provost of Largs to the city of Brisbane. By way of contrast, Saskia leads me to the ultra-modernist ‘Star’, a sky-piercing casino that Andrew Petrie might have considered a den of iniquity. “Smells of America,” I tell her, unimpressed. “Time for a drink,” she says, “I’m buying.” And thus we repair to Frogs Hollow Saloon. The drinks list is mighty - a who’s who of all the world’s great distilleries. Alas, since we’re each ‘on duty’ we order soft drinks - to toast Andrew Petrie and Thomas Brisbane, the men, the place, and the Scots who followed. That night I indulge in fancy dining at the swish but relaxed SK Steak and Oyster, where beef is grilled to juicy perfection and wine sings in harmony. Milton, my promised date next morning, would have hated it. And besides, I was pretty sure he’d be sleeping already - he goes to bed early and kips like a log 20 hours a day. We meet by arrangement after breakfast at Lone Pines Sanctuary up river. It houses, crocodile, platypus, dingoes, snakes and roo. But mostly Koala - and Milton’s the poster boy. While I stroke his back and shoulders he simply blanks me, munching juicy eucalyptus. A passing water dragon hustles us. Milton’s indifferent. Another fistful appears in his paw. Caillin, his keeper says he’s “a very good boy indeed,” adding “he’s bit me only once.” I notice the water dragon take cover. “Mosquitoes love him” she adds. On cue he begins to scratch. Tom Adair was a guest of Tourism Australia (www.australia.com)