I THOUGHT it was the wage slaves living in our southern capitals who were supposed to be the workaholics?

Each day, I have been striving to drive into Cairns’ CBD earlier and earlier, in the vain attempt to grab an all-day free parking spot.

It just ain’t happening.

By my measure, there are probably about 100 free car parks spread through the city’s heart. But, my god, you have to work for them.

A colleague starts work every day at 6am. She had a dream spot about two blocks away from the office. But for months now not once has she arrived and found the spot vacant.

That must mean either one of two things: people are seriously waking up earlier than 6am in order to park in the CBD for free (I’m looking at you, black Jeep Wrangler), or they are simply leaving their cars in the same spots day after day and catching the bus home.

Do you have a strategy for finding a free park? How do you think Cairns' parking problems should be fixed? Post a comment.

To make matters worse, the city’s parking officers are damn good at their job – a little too good, if you ask me. I recently ducked into the city to pay a bill, whacked 50c into the meter, and rushed into the post office.

When I came out, I had that cheery bit of white paper tacked on to the windscreen waiting for me.

I checked the meter, it had only expired in the past 2.5 minutes. You have to admire and despise that kind of dedication and professionalism within the parking patrol industry.

You can understand why, though. After all, no one wants to drive into the city for eight hours of work only to find that every single car spot has been taken up by a Kombi van with a clothesline of smelly clothes strung out over a nearby signpost.

There’s always the bus, people will say. But it’s kind of defeatist. Especially if there are, as I’ve discovered, multiple ways of beating the system.

If you head into the council office and make a beeline to the counter where all the council brochures are kept, you’ll find a tidy little leaflet titled "Parking in Cairns: where to park in the CBD".

Inside is an incredibly handy map of the city’s heart, and various parking areas, colour coded for your pleasure, according to length of stay.

Forget the all-day ones opposite the Outback Bar and Grill, there’s no way in hell you’re gonna score those. Believe me, I’ve tried.

But if you’re not afraid to spend, say 20-30 minutes circling the block where spots can be found – circling them like a wedge-tailed eagle seeking out its prey – then you too may be just lucky enough to score some of this hallowed bitumen.

The other option is making for the block directly opposite the Abbott St library, which is strangely always devoid of vehicles, and there are as many all-day parks as far as the eye can see. Sure, there is a bit of squawk going on in the trees above you, and you may have to duck into the car wash on your way home but at least you won’t have to pay for a car spot. Just a new paint job one day.

And yes, there’s always cycling, walking and bussing to work but there’s no fun in that. Instead, some CBD workers like to play dirty.

You may or may not be aware of a little parking game that could only be described as Catch Me If You Can, Cairns Style (CMIYCCS).

One reliable source has informed me of a very cunning plan this particularly friendly group of workers carry out each day.

They synchronise their watches at regular three-hour smoko break intervals.

As soon as the alarm sounds, this group of professionals swamp Grafton and Lake streets, hop in their cars and switch spots with each other. Patting each other on the back when they jump out of their vehicles, they then set their watches for another three hours when the whole fandango starts again.

It may sound like a ridiculous waste of time and fuel but, as my source assures me, escaping work three times a day for 10 minutes and driving around in the air-conditioned comfort of a car sure beats the hell out of cycling to and from work in 30 degree plus temperatures.

Then there are these wannabe vigilantes who think of themselves as the Robin Hoods of the city, enacting revenge upon the parking police.

They will scrimp and save as many five cent coins as possible – watch for these people, they are the ones constantly looking down while they are walking around the city – in the vain hope that by pumping the meter full of nothing but five cent coins, it somehow causes much anguish to that same parking officer who gave them a $20 fine the day before: "Ha ha! Take that, parking inspector person! You’ve got to carry those coins around all day! I curse you with saggy pockets!"

Or then there are the silent few who have discovered their own secret spots, either down dark alleyways or in some unchecked corner of a hotel car park, which they guard with their lives.

You will see these skittish folk exiting their vehicles quickly wearing dark sunglasses. For fun, yell "hey you" and watch them scatter like roaches when the lights go on.

Overall, the council has done pretty well with what they’ve got in terms of parking.

We’re not likely to get a 500-car free parking lot next to the Lagoon any time soon but at least the free spots are out there if you’re prepared to work for them.

But if you are like me, you too may be close to giving in and catching the bus. Our weary mantra?

"The environment says thank you."

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