Adelaide has some work to do to live up to its title as one of 2017’s must-see destinations

IT’S often derided as a big country town and that’s because it is. How this Australian city has got on the list of must-see places in 2017 is anyone’s guess.

Adelaide CBD.

OPINION

I went to a wedding a few weeks back.

The bride’s big day was interstate so the ceremony was closer to the groom’s family.

When the speeches had died down and the cake was sliced, I had a chat to the bride.

“So how long are you staying in Adelaide for after the wedding?,” she asked.

“Four days,” I said. “We thought we’d make a long weekend of it.”

“Four days in Adelaide?” she replied, “Four days! We’re both getting out of Adelaide the day after tomorrow and we’re the ones getting married.”

Travel bible Lonely Planet guide has just listed South Australia as one of 2017’s must see destinations.

“South Australia offers the coolest mix of brilliant wine country, abundant produce festivals, stark and stunning tracts of picturesque Aussie outback and crowd-free beaches that could make even the Bahamas jealous,” states Lonely Planet.

Adelaide’s CBD surrounded by parkland.

I’m sorry, but have they been knocking back a few too many bottles of Barossa Valley Shiraz, delicious as it is?

While South Australia is a beautiful state, of undulating hills at one end and dramatic desert landscapes at the other, the city in its middle has to be kidding.

Adelaide, we have a problem.

To be fair, even Lonely Plant struggled to drum up a lot good to say about the state capital.

Apparently a cruise ship is docking there in 2017. And that’s about it.

And yet, the weekend of the wedding, it all started out so well.

Just metres from the hotel, down a side street, a dark and moody bar provided the perfect place for a post-flight beverage.

The Bibliotheca Bar and Book Exchange in Adelaide is one of the trendy new small bars that have opened in Adelaide. Picture: Simon Cross

Then to the South Australian Art Gallery which is surely one of the best art museums in the nation.

This was followed by the stunning McLaren Vale, where the wedding was held. Rolling green fields galloped away up a row of small hills to the distance.

And, did I mention this, there was some rather nice wine to guzzle?

But it was when I returned to the city that things began to fall into a heap.

Despite being one of the best designed city plans in Australia — the CBD is surrounded by a ring of parkland — for some reason everything is concentrated into one end.

North Terrace is as grand a civic boulevard as you are ever likely to see but within two or three blocks the city just seems to stop. No more shops and few places to drinks and eat.

It’s like Adelaide just gave up.

But that’s OK because of all the attractions right? Well, maybe, if you can get into them.

How about the Central Market? It’s website says it is “a thriving hub of food and culture … buzzing with life and colour all year round.”

Sunday, 6.30pm, Adelaide CBD. Not a soul.

Except if you visit on a Sunday that is when its doors are firmly closed. Because why would you open a foodie paradise beloved by tourists when tourists are actually in town?

In fact, Adelaide, we need to talk about opening hours in general.

Standing in the middle of the shopping strip of Rundle Mall at 4.58pm on Sunday, the citizens were deafened by the thunderous roar of shutters tumbling to the ground.

And not just department stores, supermarkets too. It was time to shut up shop.

Even, unforgivably, the bottle shops. And this in a state known for its reds.

Well, I thought, I’ll go to the pub then. Nope, most of the pubs are closed too.

In fact, nothing was open at all. All the trappings of civilisation rose around me, skyscrapers stretched to the sky, but all signs of life were absent.

Traffic lights flicked from red to green directing non-existent traffic, empty abandoned coffee cups spun in circles in the middle of the road untroubled by car tyres.

If the makers of 28 Days Later were looking to make another chapter, Adelaide CBD at 6.30pm on a Sunday would be a good place to film to get that post-apocalyptic, zombies have taken over the earth, kind of vibe.

Adelaide rush hour. Sorry, a still from the film 28 Days Later.

It was if the South Australian Government had instituted a curfew for all so on Monday morning they were bright eyed, bushy tailed and super productive.

Eventually, after a 30-minute trek, a pub was found so I could eat. It closed at 9 though so time was off the essence.

Maybe the city decided its tagline of the “city of churches” should be a literal description of what should be reliably open all week?

The next day I headed to the seaside resort of Glenelg, the Bondi of Adelaide. Glenelg is a palindrome — a word or sentence that is spelt the same even if you flip it back to front.

Here’s another palindrome — “dammit I’m mad” which is how I felt when the tram came to a screech at the seaside terminus.

Glenelg could do with some love. Picture Roger Wyman

The suburb’s main street is nothing more than a uninspiring stretch of budget chain fashion stores, coffee shops and banks. But that could be forgiven were it not for the horrors of the seafront.

At some point, in the deepest 80s probably, any charm the beachfront may have had was bulldozed so enormous unedifying and utterly soulless apartment blocks and hotels could be built in their place.

Extraordinarily, hanging from the wall of a hotel, are framed pictures of the previous historic hotel demolished to make way for the monstrosity now standing.

Good for families maybe, not good for me.

As the tram slid back into the city it dawned on me I still had three hours to kill before I had to leave for the airport.

Reluctantly, I headed to the State Library as everything else was shut. Maybe the cafe was open?

If all else fails, head to McLaren Vale, south of Adelaide.

Then, quite unexpectedly, I fell upon a glorious beautiful soaring chamber full of dusty tomes and a dark wood. Like a little slice of Hogwarts hiding away on Adelaide’s main drag.

And this was one of the oddities of Adelaide. It has much to commend it — characterful bars, a football stadium slap bang in the CBD, great food, hidden corners and even some up and coming areas like the city’s East End. And the wine regions are amazing.

But what Adelaide advertises as attractions are either somewhat lacking or they are simply closed. I have hope. With some tweaks, Adelaide can get there. But it probably has to actually be open for starters.

A work colleague did say there was one really good thing about Adelaide — you can always get a free park in the CBD.

It’s not enough to tempt me back anytime soon. Radelaide was far from rad.

The bride was right, it was time to get outta Adelaide.