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Melbourne: My New Home?

Ah Melbourne: Smokey from bush fires, home of the weirdest turning lane rules in the world, and a city whose weather changes more quickly and dramatically than any other to which I've ever been - and I'm from Calgary!

Arriving in Melbourne, I was psyched. I had a job interview the next day and was hopeful that I’d find accommodations very quickly in order to settle down for a while in this happening city. I had planned a travel move to hit New Zealand, Fiji and Tonga in January, but with pro-democracy crowds burning down 80% of the capital, a threatened coup in Fiji, and New Zealand under siege by an invading force of icebergs from the quickly shrinking Antarctic ice shelves, it looked like fate had decided that a January sojourn to the Pacific Islands was not a good idea. That, and my savings got punked by the surprisingly expensive Australian cost of living. They don’t advertise that bit when they’re saying come to Australia, no wonder they offer a working holiday.

Melbourne is an exciting and lively city with things going on in every neighbourhood near the city centre, and all are readily accessible by public transit, which is a boon for me. It also helps that I know people here, and on my first day, James, who you know from my Turkish cruise, had his sister Katrina show me around. There’s so much to do. In the Fitzroy area, for instance, I went on a gallery walk recommended by the Lonely Planet guide. It wasn’t a tour, but rather a self-guided stroll through the very trendy part of town. Down by the beach, St. Kilda is a happening little area full of restaurants, pubs, and a great little beers of the world store with a very knowledgeable store owner who is happy to recommend any beer to suit your palette. I’m hoping to convince him to bring in Big Rock Traditional and Anchor Steam. Those are killer beers.

My first week was a little uneventful as far as sight seeing is concerned because I was working. The interview was a slam dunk for me; although in fairness, I think they needed bodies so badly that a monkey could have gotten through to the training. It was a sales job to convert people to green energy in the form of biomass from sugar cane grown in Queensland. I was pleased with the product, it’s hard to go wrong helping to remove more than 12 tons of greenhouse gases per household from the system. But as I would find out, the way in which I was being encouraged to peddle the product was disingenuous at best. The key to sales, is telling people what they need to do, not bothering them with details like the fact that “your area is being converted to green energy,” without really being clear that they were changing energy companies…that was something you just kind of slid in there at the end or if they asked.

Now this brings up a genuine dilemma. Is it okay to pursue ethical ends by unethical means? In other words, is it okay for me to dupe people into taking on the cheapest green energy program in the country? It is good for them and the environment, but achieved through something akin to trickery. People don’t want what you’re offering even before they know what it is, so it’s kind of how things “have to” be done. The truth in the dilemma still stands, but it was not an acceptable balance for me, and I had to quit. So I've done a couple of odd jobs, one very odd indeed: I had to count underwear being shipped off somewhere overseas. I must have counted some 10000 pairs of underwear - but I got $80 bucks for 6 hours of work, so I can't complain too loudly. I do have to say, I can't believe parents buy some of that stuff for kids. I know kids don't have any care about fashions, and shouldn't but some of this stuff was ridiculous. This Tigger and Pooh underwear was pretty cool though, and if they wouldn't have been some seriously painful budgie smugglers I'd have gotten some myself.

I have some interviews coming up this week, which include working in a paint factory, calling parents who've expressed interest in a tutoring program, and doing neck massage at corporate events, which I have since bailed on in order to head west. I have a persistent and nagging desire to do it, and the universe has been good to me so far. I best not mess with it :) I got the one interview - from the paint factory - while eating at the Victoria Market. I was wearing my Calgary Flames Jersey and this guy walked up and asked if I was really from Calgary. We got to talking and it turned out that he was from Winnipeg but owned the factory down here and after chatting us up for 20 minutes mentioned that they were short staffed, so I asked if they were hiring casuals. He said he was just about to ask if we were interested in a little bit of work. So he gave me his card and set up the interview for me. Good deal! I got a job interview over a plate of Kangaroo, Emu, and Crocodile. Good times.

Phillip Island: The Tour

Since quitting my sunny job for shady people I've done some exploring. I took a tour out to Phillip Island to see the "fairy" penguins. That's only their common name, their proper name are the "little" penguins. Leave it to science to give something so fascinating the most mundane name imaginable. I would have called them mini-penguins "exacly the same, just one sixth the size." Or Merbirds...because they're birds, but also kinda fish-like. I have trouble trusting penguins for this reason...that and how can you trust anything that believes a tuxedo is always appropriate wear - like butlers...it's always the butler who did it! Penguin did redeem themselves a little in my eyes when they stuck it to all those religious folks who say gay marriage is an abomination against God, by being known to stay in same sex partnerships and even raise abandoned chicks together. It seems it's harder to be gay for people than penguins. Take The Only Gay Eskimo for instance. Leaving behind paranoia and bigotry (often at the root of the American psyche) They are tiny, and they come into shore slowly, cautiously, ever aware of the lurking dangers of the shoreline.

I feel the same way about the sea, mind you. The southern coast of Victoria looks surprisingly like the California coast. The only difference is that here, on the beaches you have to be mindful of rogue waves which attack at will, drag you in with the help of the rip tides and allow you to be devoured by great whites like some poor kid in Western Australia last week.

The penguins, however, are much more concerned about the eagles, and other things on the shore. It was a full moon that night, so they were extra cautious. They come onto the beach in a wave of 3-5 look around, wander onto the beach, stop and look some more. When one bravely wanders up, and the others don't follow, he looks back and takes back to the surf as if terrorized by an unseen horror. It takes them a long time to make the march up the beach. They're really cute, but man do they make a ruckus once they get back to their nests....bowhn chicka bowhn bowhn. The certainly don't keep any secrets.

Earlier that day we stopped at one of Victoria's premier wineries to sample some of the worst wine ever produced. Now I know I'm not a wine expert, but I'm pretty sure wine should not taste like hickory smoked barbeque sauce, nor red wine to be salty. It was really a vinyard known much the same as Pabst Blue Ribbon in the States for it's award winning brew in the 19th century....when it was not only the best, but perhaps the only available contestant. That being said, the tea they served was quite nice. The only beer worse, that I know of is Canada's own Labatt Blue - why in an age of great beer people still drink it on purpose is beyond me. As far as I'm concerned it should be relegated to the realm of prairie fires and cement mixers - dare drinks. It's that bad.

We also stopped at the Wara preserve which housed various animals from Australia. I got to feed a koala, but they make you pay $15 for a picture...Like wagwon? I'm feeding it, it should be paying me! Tshhhh! The kangaroos, however, are much more grateful and lazily munch away at whatever you'll give them. They're really docile there, especially in the midafternoon heat. I enjoyed that bit. You can also feed llamas, donkeys, emus, and kangaroo rats, but they suggest not feeding the Tasmanian devils, as they are more partial to the fingers that are supplying the feed. Strangely enough, they do run around in circles, not quite tornado style, but in a clear enough way to leave a track. I wonder if that's natural, or if that's simply a craziness like polar bears in a zoo. Check out "Gus: the Polar Bear from Central Park" by the Tragically Hip, one of my all time favorite bands. If you don't know the Hip, it's probably because you aren't Canadian. If you aren't Canadian and do know the Hip, you are qualified to receive an honorary citizenship, which may or may not be valid upon arrival, seeing as I have no actual authority. If, however, you are Canadian and don't know the hip, you are hereby stripped of your citizenship.

The Good Life, or Melbourne Part Deux

My pillow has become a focal point of my happiness here in Melbourne. This hostel has really crappy pillows for the most part, you wake up with terrible pains in your neck, so when the person in our room that had a real pillow checked out, I pilfered it for my own. I was on it like a fat kid on a smartie and am loathe to give it up. It's amazing what travelling does to a person it makes them both less materialistic (I bought a bunch of extra clothes since I'm going to be here for a while, but they've just cluttered my life and I find it such a stress that I'm having bad dreams about my extra possessions - they're being sent home with my aunt's friends Don and Amanda - at least the few articles I would be stupid to just dump). At the same time you become quite attached to very small things, like the above-mentioned pillow, or my hemorrhoid cream - sorry, couldn't resist the chance to gross people out.

Last week, on the day I got my pillow, this really smelly German guy (what is it with old smelly Germans being next to me all the time?) He came in and was complaining what a "shit hole" the place was for reasons like not having anymore breakfast after the well published free breakfast time, and how he couldn't spend another night....blah, blah, blah. I meanwhile was sinking into my real pillow and had just turned on my iPod which had jumped to "What a Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong, and all I could think was "Ah, life is sweet. Even the fact that I had mysteriously, and without feeling it, gashed my left ring finger open was not going to deter my mood, so Smelly German Man didn't stand a chance; I totally tuned him out but continued to throw in the odd "uh huh" and "yep" and "ja schtimt" in the appropriate places. It's a skill really with people who don't actually plan on having a conversation.

I've spent my days lazily wandering, without doing much of anything actually. I played Sim City on the Laptop I bought which I'm still not sure was a good idea (it's a pain to lug around, but I keep telling myself I'm actually going to do some writing with it - uh huh.) Melbourne is one of those great cities to walk around. You find the most interesting shops and restaurants tucked in remote and often dodgy alleyways. Me friend Eve, whom I met in Granada took me with some friends down this highly shady alley and into this cool bar I'd never find, and will never manage to find on my own again. We stuffed ourselves with Chinese food and beer, and one cider I sadly mistook for beer - that was a surprise! to say the least, Melbourne is full of such surprises. When I wandered down to the docklands, I almost, almost, joined a party of Anti-Whalers on the Farley Mowatt, a vigilante ship that hunts illegal whaling ships, cutting lines, ramming ships, etc. They're Eco-warriors "Pirates of Compassion" against "Pirates of Profit." The Sea Shepherd organization, is one whose courage and goals I applaud....me and the Dali Lama, who gave them the gift known as the Buddha's wrath to support them. I strongly encourage you to check them out, offer your support, spread the word. They're doing what the navies of the world should really be doing, stamping out pirates who ravage our world for the sake of profit.

They're tacitly supported by Australia and other law abiding countries - hated by Canada though, ironically enough. We're still intent on driving seal populations to extinction. What the hell's wrong with us? They're going to Antarctica to fend off the Japanese whaling fleet. I may do it next year when my visa expires. Oh man that would be cool. So when I took the tour and the woman said you don't need to be qualified to join, I perked up, but you need to be a member for a year first. Doh! If they weren't full, I didn't have to be a member, and she hadn't told me I could be shot to death by the Japanese, I'd have done it. I don't know if it's shameful or wise not to risk my life for the whales, my current opinion falls slightly to the former. If you don't fight to make the world better you're only fighting to exist.

I've spent a lot of time hanging out with a Spanish-French gal named Melanie, who's good fun. At first I thought she had to be quite young and then she mentioned little by little all the things she'd done, and I had to ask "How old are you?" 25 - not an obvious age to guess from my point of view, but there you go. She's one of those rare people that makes a friend out of everyone in an instant and for that among other qualities she's been a real treat to hang around with. Good talker too - which takes the pressure off me. It'll be a shame to part ways, as inevitably happens on these treks. But I succeeded in convincing her to drop her unsatisfying job, with the help of other backpackers who are of like mind to say - yeah ditch the job and go to Tassie. So we'll not have to part ways for another week.

Melanie and I spent some time hanging out with this "not-gay" fellow from Adelaide who was the epitome of the talker-not-listener. I say not-gay because when Melanie was talking about him I was like "you mean the gay guy?" and she told me "yes, but he's apparently not gay, so he says." But in the words of his Irish friend Yvonne "I don't know how he can say he's not; he's as gay as Christmas!" Really...but anyway it's not my business. At first I enjoyed hanging out with him because he reminded me of Camille, only a gay version of him - same facial expressions when he spoke. But after a while Melanie and I realized that we could have been deaf mutes and the conversation would have been the same, he didn't give a damn. We'd say something and he'd respond as if we'd asked the question he'd prepared for us to ask instead. He invited himself to join us at the beach the next day, and we dis-invited ourselves in response. He was exhausting...and nothing like Camille as it turns out.

The other night they had a wine tasting at Federation Square, they had every vintner from the Yarra Valley there. So for $12 dollars we got to wine taste the whole valley, and didn't have to pay to get there. I drank more than my money's worth. There were some really excellent wines, some very peppery, others with a caramel nose, still others with, well, I'm going to stop pretending I know anything about wine. There was also an ice wine, which I didn't know was produced outside of Canada. I am very surprised I didn't have a hangover the next day because I had a lot to drink....even in little sips. I suppose the water, and the huge plate of calamari that followed must have done the trick. Of course it might have been the little bit of cheek I managed to chew off my face. Another Pizza the Hut incident.

A Shift in Plans - Surprise!

With my decision to leave Melbourne, I've redoubled my efforts to see my friends who I've missed and have had some great experiences. I met up with Ellen (Around The World), who I met through Travelblog, and some friends of hers. They took me to St. George's Public Bar, famous for the fact, Mark Brandon Read, more commonly (and affectionately) known as Chopper, once worked at the place. Chopper is famous for his crimes which he committed, spending most of his early adult life behind bars. He has since turned to a life of crime... novel writing that is, and can still be seen from time to time around Melbourne. He's somewhat of a folk hero here. Only in Australia! But it was really cool to be there and her friends were good fun. Today I had lunch and caught up with Rivkah and Michelle, although separately since we couldn't find the time to meet all at once. I also met them In Granada, and it was excellent hanging out with them. Michelle walked me through a bunch of alleys and told me a bunch of places where I should go, making me question my decision to leave so early. But I'll be back this way in March...so it's okay, breathe. All in good time.

In my last couple of days, frantically trying to see things, buy camping gear, and meet up with people before I take off to Tasmania, I managed to see the Lees, friends from California for dinner and drinks. They were kind enough to take some things home for me. On Wednesday night Mel and I went to walk down to the beach which Ellen told me was only 20 minutes away - its further El! :) But then on the way back I proposed walking on the boardwalk, and figured it would go to the same place. After a long time we came across the bridge over the harbour, and I was like, "Hehehe ooops!" So after an EXTRA long walk, we had to cross major highway interchanges, and shady industrial areas. I said it was my fault, she said, I only proposed the idea, so I agreed - it was her fault.

My last ditch effort as tourist was to go see the Tezuka - Manga exhibit. He was the creator of Astroboy and Kimba the White Lion. I loved them, but I have never met anyone in the states who actually remembers them. I wonder if Canucks and Aussies snapped it up and the Americans poo-pooed it? All the same I loved them as a kid. Although, I vaguely remember loathing Astroboy at some point, but I've since forgotten why and he's now a part of my childhood reverie. My personal mythology. If no one else, my sister, Connie, will remember and if not, I hereby disown you. Just kidding, but seriously, don't let me down on this one!

Off to Tasmania my friends.

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