LOOKING at the waitress as she tried to explain where our food was, I started to wonder what my fork would look like lodged firmly in her right eyeball.

In the 10 metres between our table and the cafe`s kitchen, the order we had placed with her an hour ago had vanished into thin air.

We had come to the CBD for Sunday morning breakfast and by the time 11am rolled around we were so hungry we could've eaten the you-know-whats off a low flying duck.

When the waitress eventually discovered the kitchen hadn't received the order at all, we walked out to find another cafe.

Once there, we sat down and waited and drank our coffee by the time the food arrived. But at least it actually arrived.

Only trouble was I ordered bacon with my eggs but the bacon was missing from the plate.

The waitress offered to bring some over. I took a deep breath and pointed out that my already lukewarm eggs and toast would be stone cold by the time it arrived.

She shrugged her shoulders and went off to mess up someone else's order. I ate the breakfast through gritted teeth and paid the exorbitant bill.

Then we went for a walk in a bid to calm the rising red tide of bile and loathing.

That didn't help, of course. A few metres into the walk I stepped in a lump of moist chewing gum the size of a football. 

The whole morning was an unmitigated nightmare and it`s reaffirmed my belief that service in this town is often a sad joke.

The only positive to come out of our attempt to spend a pleasant morning in the CBD was the revelation that the CBD is actually a grubby and lifeless pit of nothingness. 

Don't get me wrong. I'm not looking for New York or Paris. 

This really is paradise, and there is little doubt that The Esplanade is a jewel any city would be envious of. 

But when was the last time you enjoyed a stroll from the Esplanade through the city to Cairns Central? 

The contrast between the foreshore and the rest of the CBD is stupefyingly stark. 

It's like putting the head of Jennifer Hawkins on the body of Amanda Vanstone. 

I realise the CBD is the domain of private enterprise, where foreign owners of buildings don't give two stuffs about the appearance of the place so long as their rent returns remain high and paid on time. 

But what about City Place? If there is a more depressing and unwelcoming CBD hub in the entire free world I haven't seen or heard about it. What about Grafton St? Would it hurt to close a section of it to cars on weekends? 

Why aren't there market stalls and live music on the street to capitalise on the foot traffic visiting Rustys Markets? 

As we walked past Abbott and Lake Sts on this fateful Sunday morning, I had to stop and wonder why we live in God's own country but put up with a tired and grotty and boring old CBD. 

Former Cairns Chamber of Commerce president Bob Norman has raised hell about the deteriorating state of the CBD many times, to no avail. 

With the final two weeks of the council election campaign upon us, I urge candidates and mayoral aspirants to think seriously about the future of our city's barely beating heart. 

I know it's too much to ask for some kind of amendment to the town plan that requires cafes to hire competent staff. 

But something must be done to spruce this place up before we all decide it's best to stay at home to cook our own bloody breakfasts, with bounties of bacon and appealing ambience and absolutely no chewing gum.

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