From Canberra I flew to Melbourne. I flew drug free and so the plane was treated to me weeping and willing the plane to stay in the air. I was successful and we didn't die although it was turbulent.
I was staying on Flinders Street at the YHA there. The person who had been in the room before me was so extraordinarily messy that I assumed that they were still staying there so I left a light on for them for a couple of nights until I realised they weren't coming back. I then took the toothpaste they left behind. I went for dinner with a couple of guys I met and we all filled each other in on our travels. One of the recommendations was the youth hostel from hell I had previously fled. I said 'I had a bit of a bad experience with one of the long term guests'. I said her name and the guy started laughing. Turns out she had tried it on with him and the only way he was able to escape her attentions was to pretend to be German and not speak English. I once again cursed my GCSE French and Latin combo. He then amused himself by texting all his friends to tell them he had met someone who knew the strange lady and then spent a good few hours trying to convince me that the strange lady was in Melbourne for the Melbourne Cup.
I like Melbourne but although I've been there a few times I don't feel like I really know Melbourne. This is possibly because it's set on a grid and I can't work grid systems. I will always turn the wrong way and end up in a dodgy neighbourhood or on some train tracks or the local dump. In Melbourne I am constantly looking for the centre when in fact there is no centre and it is a warren on side streets and alleyways.
I do however love St Kilda. Not just because it's where 'The Secret Life of Us' was filmed but because it's beautiful, fun and full of excellent pubs.
The picture to the left is my attempt at recreating 'The Secret Life of Us' opening titles. I meant to pop to St Kilda for an afternoon, mooch around and come back. I ended up enjoying it so much that I walked along the front to Brighton and beyond. The views were beautiful and it was lovely to turn back and see the city behind you. Brighton is famed for it's multi-coloured beach huts.
I walked and walked. It wasn't a warm day and was quite overcast. Whenever I say this to people now they nod sagely and say 'Oh yes, you have to be careful when it's overcast. I was not careful. I had sun cream on but it had been applied in a slightly slapdash manner. Luckily I had also worn make-up (something which didn't happen a lot on this holiday). On arrival back in the city people looked at me strangely. I assumed I was glowing with health following my walk. In fact I was glowing with the power of a thousand suns. I had branded myself.
My chest has only recently got back to a normal colour. My face had luckily escaped the worst, with one exception. Dotted along the walk to Brighton are water fountains. I had drunk from a few of them and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. This meant that I had wiped the make up from my top lip and I now had an electric red moustache. Which makes a change from my usual ginger tash.
I was staying on Flinders Street at the YHA there. The person who had been in the room before me was so extraordinarily messy that I assumed that they were still staying there so I left a light on for them for a couple of nights until I realised they weren't coming back. I then took the toothpaste they left behind. I went for dinner with a couple of guys I met and we all filled each other in on our travels. One of the recommendations was the youth hostel from hell I had previously fled. I said 'I had a bit of a bad experience with one of the long term guests'. I said her name and the guy started laughing. Turns out she had tried it on with him and the only way he was able to escape her attentions was to pretend to be German and not speak English. I once again cursed my GCSE French and Latin combo. He then amused himself by texting all his friends to tell them he had met someone who knew the strange lady and then spent a good few hours trying to convince me that the strange lady was in Melbourne for the Melbourne Cup.
I like Melbourne but although I've been there a few times I don't feel like I really know Melbourne. This is possibly because it's set on a grid and I can't work grid systems. I will always turn the wrong way and end up in a dodgy neighbourhood or on some train tracks or the local dump. In Melbourne I am constantly looking for the centre when in fact there is no centre and it is a warren on side streets and alleyways. I do however love St Kilda. Not just because it's where 'The Secret Life of Us' was filmed but because it's beautiful, fun and full of excellent pubs.
The picture to the left is my attempt at recreating 'The Secret Life of Us' opening titles. I meant to pop to St Kilda for an afternoon, mooch around and come back. I ended up enjoying it so much that I walked along the front to Brighton and beyond. The views were beautiful and it was lovely to turn back and see the city behind you. Brighton is famed for it's multi-coloured beach huts. I walked and walked. It wasn't a warm day and was quite overcast. Whenever I say this to people now they nod sagely and say 'Oh yes, you have to be careful when it's overcast. I was not careful. I had sun cream on but it had been applied in a slightly slapdash manner. Luckily I had also worn make-up (something which didn't happen a lot on this holiday). On arrival back in the city people looked at me strangely. I assumed I was glowing with health following my walk. In fact I was glowing with the power of a thousand suns. I had branded myself.
My chest has only recently got back to a normal colour. My face had luckily escaped the worst, with one exception. Dotted along the walk to Brighton are water fountains. I had drunk from a few of them and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. This meant that I had wiped the make up from my top lip and I now had an electric red moustache. Which makes a change from my usual ginger tash.
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