The long weekend.

I woke up really early on Friday morning in order to have a good shower and doublt check and triple check that I hadn't left anything laying under the bed or behind the drawers or inside the lamp shade. I'd hoped to bump into somebody to help me with my suitcase but I didn't. The maids just watched as my wrists twisted and my feet tripped up, but I dragged it albeit slowly, all the way to the bottom. I checked out and headed to the tram stop, although I was a little sad about leaving, seeing as this had been my home for the past few days. Getting the case up the tram steps was more humorous than getting it down the three flights of stairs. Because of the incline of the steps, and because of the way that the steps were segregated down the middle with a handle, and the fact that it was all on the clock before the tram driver decided he'd had enough and was ready to drive on. I threw the case up the first step but then had to run around the railing to the top to heave the case up by it's handle. Of course, many people watched intently yet nobody even gestured to offer me a hand. Because of this, I decided not to pay for my tram ticket... A three dollar saving!

I got a little nervous whilst approaching the hostel. There were lots of people laughing and shouting outside and it was quite a contrast from the quiet hotel with nobody inside. Nevertheless, I went inside to pay my money for my room, but was informed that I couldn't check in for another three and a half hours. This upset me greatly, because although I could store my suitcase, I wasn't prepared to let my rucksack containing money, documents, portable electronics and basically all of my 'life' that I'd managed to bring out to Australia with me. As I left the hostel in search of some food and possibly some free wifi (McDonalds), the sun decided to rear it's large, hot head, which under normal circumstance would have been devine, but carrying the weight I had on my back around the streets toasting in the sun was just making me very hot and very sweaty.

I managed to find a McDonalds and ordered my food but I couldn't get my netbook to connect to the internet which was frustrating. There was little I could do to keep myself busy and the lunch time rush were giving me noticeable stares because I was taking up a whole table to myself with just a Coke to drink. I left and headed back to the hostel hoping that seeing how an hour had passed, they might be able to bend the rules and let me get into my room. As I entered the hostel reception, I heard them tell some other couple the exact same thing that they would tell me if I were to ask. "Not before two o clock! No exceptions!", so I went into the sheltered courtyard area and began reading a book on my kindle.

Come two o clock, the guy at reception looked at me like I'd insulted him when I asked if it was okay to go to my room now. He gave me my key and told me that it was on the first floor and left me to my own devices. Very luckily, there was a lift so I didn't have to make the arduous trek back up another staircase. The rooms on my floor are all in their own contained area that you needed your key to get into. Inside, there was a big square corridor layout, with rooms all round the outside and the separate boys and girls bathrooms in the middle. Everything seemed very clean and well lit. Room 205 is in one of the four corners of the floor. I slid my key into the door quite nervously in anticipation of the room itself and who might be inside waiting. There was a girl inside poking around in her belongings, so I said hello to her. She looked up and she was a very friendly bright and immediately told me her name was Claire and explained all about herself and how she was travelling alone and made me promise her that we'd have some drinks that night. I gladly agreed to having some instant company in the evening and she left to go and go clothes shopping.

Room 205 is rectangular and quite small, with enough room for two bunk beds on one side of the room and you put your belongings along the opposite wall with room to walk down the middle. It was lovely that the AC was gushing ice cold air into the room. My bed had already been made up and it was the bottom bunk, which I was happy about until I tried to sit upright on the bed and banged my head. But that beats climbing up and down a ladder (especially after a little something to drink). The bathrooms are almost opposite the room and they are all open with a set of sinks with mirrors on one wall, with a row of toilet cubicles on one length of the wall and a row of shower cubicles running on the opposite wall. But they were all very clean and I believe that they get cleaned three times a day which is good news.

After I'd finished eating, Claire arrived on cue with alcohol and we began chatting and drinking. She introduced me to a couple of guys she'd met called Chris and Sven and we headed out into the courtyard and spent the evening drinking and laughing and sharing stories. It was really nice to fit in straight away and feel like part of a group after so long. Our group ended up amalgamating with one of the other groups who were also out drinking (it seems to be very much a common theme in the hostel. The universal language) and we headed out to a club together, managing to get separated and me ending up with a whole new group of people. But I quickly made friends with a girl called Sarah in stuck by her so that I wouldn't get drunkenly lost trying to find my way back to the hostel. We ended up leaving the club at four and managing to get back to the hostel okay. I'm not sure my room mates enjoyed my drunken fumbling with a torch trying to get ready for bed though!!

Saturday was spent very much feeling the after effects of the night before. I had a shower and went to the McDonalds I'd found the day before because I was in desperate need of something greasy and a huge drink. After that little adventure, I went back to the room and found nobody inside and saw this as a perfect opportunity to sleep. And sleep I did. The whole afternoon practically. Sabina came back at some point and asked if I wanted to go and get some food and a glass of wine so that we did. We also had a wonderful plan of going to the beach to watch the sunset and see the penguins that come onto the beach at dusk, but by the time we'd finished talking we realised we'd missed it. We had a glass of wine each in the communal area but when Sabina said she was going to bed before her early trip the next day, I realised how good an idea it was and went to bed too.

Sunday, I woke up nice and refreshed which stood out amongst all the Saturday night hangovers that were wandering around the hostel. I thought it would be an opportune time to try and catch up on my blog writing but as soon I started Lydia surfaced with a beastly hangover, followed by Chris and Claire and we decided that an afternoon pint in the sunshine was in order. We went to a bar called the Local where they only served local ales beers and ciders and they had a really gorgeous secluded rooftop garden which was a lovely spot to while away the afternoon with an ice cold pint of cider. From there, we went to meet some of Claire's friends who were drinking in a bar on Fitzroy Street (bearing in mind, at this point, it was only 3:30pm). We took the long walk to the bar and met them but I felt very uncomfortable. The new group were horrifically drunk and jeering at passers by. One of the girls was swearing at strangers like she had tourettes (she didn't... she was just THAT horrible), and so after a glass of wine, I made my apologises and headed back to the hostel.

I made an effort to cook myself some pasta in the kitchen, although I had to use a huge frying pan to boil the pasta because I didn't want to wait for a saucepan to become available. Some people in the kitchen really go to town with their cooking, stir frys and baked salmon and roast chicken. It's a shame that I am just by myself because it obviously makes spending all that money on real ingredients and having so many left overs to throw away not viable. I made pasta and melted cheese and cooked mushrooms and mixed it all up. I managed to steal some pepper whilst nobody was looking and this made all the difference. From here, I grabbed my wine and sat in the court yard for a good two hours sipping it and reading a book. I realised that I didn't know any one out there that night due to the high turn over of people coming and leaving every single day. You don't really get to make too many long term friends. Chris spotted me at one point and introduced me to another group of people and we sat talking. Unfortunately, even in my jeans hoodie and scarf, the weather had taken such a nasty turn that I couldn't bare the cold outside, and all of the spaces to hang out inside were all pretty much occupied, so I retired to my bed.
Points of Interest;

A "milk bar" is like a newsagents.
The smallest coin denomination over here is 5 cents, so even if your good cost 56 or 58 cents, they just round it down or up respectively. I can't work out if this is a good idea or not...

The long weekend.

Friday
I woke up really early on Friday morning in order to have a good shower and doublt check and triple check that I hadn't left anything laying under the bed or behind the drawers or inside the lamp shade. I'd hoped to bump into somebody to help me with my suitcase but I didn't. The maids just watched as my wrists twisted and my feet tripped up, but I dragged it albeit slowly, all the way to the bottom. I checked out and headed to the tram stop, although I was a little sad about leaving, seeing as this had been my home for the past few days. Getting the case up the tram steps was more humorous than getting it down the three flights of stairs. Because of the incline of the steps, and because of the way that the steps were segregated down the middle with a handle, and the fact that it was all on the clock before the tram driver decided he'd had enough and was ready to drive on. I threw the case up the first step but then had to run around the railing to the top to heave the case up by it's handle. Of course, many people watched intently yet nobody even gestured to offer me a hand. Because of this, I decided not to pay for my tram ticket... A three dollar saving!

I got a little nervous whilst approaching the hostel. There were lots of people laughing and shouting outside and it was quite a contrast from the quiet hotel with nobody inside. Nevertheless, I went inside to pay my money for my room, but was informed that I couldn't check in for another three and a half hours. This upset me greatly, because although I could store my suitcase, I wasn't prepared to let my rucksack containing money, documents, portable electronics and basically all of my 'life' that I'd managed to bring out to Australia with me. As I left the hostel in search of some food and possibly some free wifi (McDonalds), the sun decided to rear it's large, hot head, which under normal circumstance would have been devine, but carrying the weight I had on my back around the streets toasting in the sun was just making me very hot and very sweaty.

I managed to find a McDonalds and ordered my food but I couldn't get my netbook to connect to the internet which was frustrating. There was little I could do to keep myself busy and the lunch time rush were giving me noticeable stares because I was taking up a whole table to myself with just a Coke to drink. I left and headed back to the hostel hoping that seeing how an hour had passed, they might be able to bend the rules and let me get into my room. As I entered the hostel reception, I heard them tell some other couple the exact same thing that they would tell me if I were to ask. "Not before two o clock! No exceptions!", so I went into the sheltered courtyard area and began reading a book on my kindle.

Come two o clock, the guy at reception looked at me like I'd insulted him when I asked if it was okay to go to my room now. He gave me my key and told me that it was on the first floor and left me to my own devices. Very luckily, there was a lift so I didn't have to make the arduous trek back up another staircase. The rooms on my floor are all in their own contained area that you needed your key to get into. Inside, there was a big square corridor layout, with rooms all round the outside and the separate boys and girls bathrooms in the middle. Everything seemed very clean and well lit. Room 205 is in one of the four corners of the floor. I slid my key into the door quite nervously in anticipation of the room itself and who might be inside waiting. There was a girl inside poking around in her belongings, so I said hello to her. She looked up and she was a very friendly bright and immediately told me her name was Claire and explained all about herself and how she was travelling alone and made me promise her that we'd have some drinks that night. I gladly agreed to having some instant company in the evening and she left to go and go clothes shopping.

Room 205 is rectangular and quite small, with enough room for two bunk beds on one side of the room and you put your belongings along the opposite wall with room to walk down the middle. It was lovely that the AC was gushing ice cold air into the room. My bed had already been made up and it was the bottom bunk, which I was happy about until I tried to sit upright on the bed and banged my head. But that beats climbing up and down a ladder (especially after a little something to drink). The bathrooms are almost opposite the room and they are all open with a set of sinks with mirrors on one wall, with a row of toilet cubicles on one length of the wall and a row of shower cubicles running on the opposite wall. But they were all very clean and I believe that they get cleaned three times a day which is good news.



After I'd finished eating, Claire arrived on cue with alcohol and we began chatting and drinking. She introduced me to a couple of guys she'd met called Chris and Sven and we headed out into the courtyard and spent the evening drinking and laughing and sharing stories. It was really nice to fit in straight away and feel like part of a group after so long. Our group ended up amalgamating with one of the other groups who were also out drinking (it seems to be very much a common theme in the hostel. The universal language) and we headed out to a club together, managing to get separated and me ending up with a whole new group of people. But I quickly made friends with a girl called Sarah in stuck by her so that I wouldn't get drunkenly lost trying to find my way back to the hostel. We ended up leaving the club at four and managing to get back to the hostel okay. I'm not sure my room mates enjoyed my drunken fumbling with a torch trying to get ready for bed though!!

Saturday was spent very much feeling the after effects of the night before. I had a shower and went to the McDonalds I'd found the day before because I was in desperate need of something greasy and a huge drink. After that little adventure, I went back to the room and found nobody inside and saw this as a perfect opportunity to sleep. And sleep I did. The whole afternoon practically. Sabina came back at some point and asked if I wanted to go and get some food and a glass of wine so that we did. We also had a wonderful plan of going to the beach to watch the sunset and see the penguins that come onto the beach at dusk, but by the time we'd finished talking we realised we'd missed it. We had a glass of wine each in the communal area but when Sabina said she was going to bed before her early trip the next day, I realised how good an idea it was and went to bed too.

Sunday, I woke up nice and refreshed which stood out amongst all the Saturday night hangovers that were wandering around the hostel. I thought it would be an opportune time to try and catch up on my blog writing but as soon I started Lydia surfaced with a beastly hangover, followed by Chris and Claire and we decided that an afternoon pint in the sunshine was in order. We went to a bar called the Local where they only served local ales beers and ciders and they had a really gorgeous secluded rooftop garden which was a lovely spot to while away the afternoon with an ice cold pint of cider. From there, we went to meet some of Claire's friends who were drinking in a bar on Fitzroy Street (bearing in mind, at this point, it was only 3:30pm). We took the long walk to the bar and met them but I felt very uncomfortable. The new group were horrifically drunk and jeering at passers by. One of the girls was swearing at strangers like she had tourettes (she didn't... she was just THAT horrible), and so after a glass of wine, I made my apologises and headed back to the hostel.

I made an effort to cook myself some pasta in the kitchen, although I had to use a huge frying pan to boil the pasta because I didn't want to wait for a saucepan to become available. Some people in the kitchen really go to town with their cooking, stir frys and baked salmon and roast chicken. It's a shame that I am just by myself because it obviously makes spending all that money on real ingredients and having so many left overs to throw away not viable. I made pasta and melted cheese and cooked mushrooms and mixed it all up. I managed to steal some pepper whilst nobody was looking and this made all the difference. From here, I grabbed my wine and sat in the court yard for a good two hours sipping it and reading a book. I realised that I didn't know any one out there that night due to the high turn over of people coming and leaving every single day. You don't really get to make too many long term friends. Chris spotted me at one point and introduced me to another group of people and we sat talking. Unfortunately, even in my jeans hoodie and scarf, the weather had taken such a nasty turn that I couldn't bare the cold outside, and all of the spaces to hang out inside were all pretty much occupied, so I retired to my bed.
Points of Interest;

A "milk bar" is like a newsagents.
The smallest coin denomination over here is 5 cents, so even if your good cost 56 or 58 cents, they just round it down or up respectively. I can't work out if this is a good idea or not...

Three days of fun, rolled into one!

I haven't forgotten about my blog! I overheard somebody saying that while you're out travelling, everybody at home expects you to be out on adventures every day. And this is not the case!

On Tuesday, I got down to some business. And this started with me tackling the washing machine! My clothes are all beginning to build up a wonderful musty smell, even the ones that are still wrapped up nice and fresh from when I washed them back home in England, so I dumped every last one of them in the washing machine. At the very least, I was going to get my three dollars worth. My next problem was the immense amount of sand that had gotten into my walking trainers from where the sea had unexpectedly rushed my feet on the trip down the GOR. Sand everywhere and white salt stains and as much as I washed them and bashed them around in the sink, they just seemed to be getting saturated through with all of the gritty sand still safely nestled inside ready to rub against my feet.

The rest of the day was spent in bed watching things on my netbook and sheltering from the spontaneous Melbourne heat outside.

I had to visit the city in order to pick up my debit card from Westpac. I wondered about whether or not I could get away with not paying the tram fare, especially as every time I spend my hard earned seven dollars to ride the tram, there's not once been an inspector to check that I had a ticket. Knowing my luck though, the one time I didn't pay, would be the time I'd get issued with the $200 fine, so I figured I better not chance it.

Of course, there was no one to check my ticket on any of the trams I rode.

After I'd picked up my shiny new debit card and had a head filled with useless Australian bank jargon that I didn't understand and would do nothing other than confuse me (something about my debit card also being able to be used as a credit card that was linked to the account), I decided it was time to visit my old McDonalds Bourke Street. The one that had the birds flapping around inside. It was nice to see that those critters were still having the time of their lives. I had a soda and then went to the Priceline store, which is basically a Superdrug or a Walgreens depending which country you are in. On my way, ha, my left ankle completely gave way as it does from time to time, and the whole of my weight on the right hand side forced my ankle down and my foot at a sort of right angle configuration and my God, it was disgusting. And boy did it hurt! Luckily though, it was a busy street and so there were lots of people to stare and walk by as I winced in pain. People in Melbourne are so rude. I know that you'll say it's a city thing, but I thought that over here with their carefree and jolly nature that they'd be different. One thing I notice is that nobody will ever be the first to move, for instance if two people in opposite directions are walking directly at one another, the other party will almost always stay on course and wait for you to move. And they're not bothered about belongings on their backs or in their hands bashing into you.

Oh and on the trams, they swing from the hand rails like monkeys banging into everyone and and have no spacial awareness for those around them. It's frustrating.

After my little incident, I limped to Priceline with the intent of buying myself some hair dye to make myself feel better, but I couldn't find the type that I was looking for and after a few minutes wandering around inside, was obviously branded a potential thief and I got 'tailed'. So I left, intrigued by a shop I'd seen earlier called, 'The Reject Shop'. My kinda place! It was sort of like a Home Bargains with rubbish sweets and tack that you don't really need but might feel inclined to buy just because it's cheap and you're there and it's like a mis-matched fate. I bought some body spray and some bobby pins and thought about getting socks and sweets and tags for my suitcase and deodorant and a cowboy hat... From here I went to the Woolworths that I'd found a few days before to see if I could find anything reasonable for my tea. That and after seeing the advert on the television fifty time and being the impressionable young traveller that I am, I really REALLY want some Babybell. Of course, like everything, the Babybell were out of my price rang and with regards to my dinner that night, I came out with a discount small quiche lorraine and a strawberry yoghurt. The unpredictable Melbourne weather was on form, so once it started raining, I gave up and went back to the hotel.

Virtually as soon as I'd gotten in, Lydia sent me a text to say she'd finished work. I sort of wanted to watch Peep Show though, so I said I'd go over to her hostel in a couple hours and I sat and ate my greasy, somehow a little frozen, 90% pastry content quiche. By the time I was ready to leave, the heaven's had opened outside, but that was okay because I'd had a couple of glasses of wine from a tumbler with my dinner and I was feeling a little invincible. I caught the right tram and ended up opposite the hostel. I was intrigued to go and check it out seeing as this would also be my hostel come Friday.
And within minutes, somebody suggested a drinking game, the ultimate bonding exercise out here. So we began playing a game called Ring Of Fire, which I'd only played once but already despised just because it's a generic first time drinking game. It was good fun though, even though I blagged the whole thing and had no idea in hell what I was actually doing. I realised that I'd gotten quite drunk, quite soon, so made a conscious effort to slow down, just because unlike these guys, I had to get a tram back to my hotel! Lydia had been given a certificate for a $50 bar tab at a bar down the road, so we started to head down, before I realised that it was approaching 12 and I had no idea when the last tram home was. I reluctantly said my goodbyes before hopping the tram (after being approached twice by weirdos asking if I needed a lift. Yeah, I did need a life, but not from you...). I figured a Subway couldn't hurt to help soak up the alcohol before bed, so I went next door and got chatting to the girl who was working the late shift before dragging my bum up all those stairs and curling up in bed for the night.

Thursday was my last day in the hotel and so I figured I'd just stay in all day. I've set myself a little project of making a music video of sorts whilst I'm out here, so I spent a lot of the day researching ideas and software. A lot of stress incurred when I had to repack my suitcase. I don't understand how I managed to get everything here so neatly, but it sure hasn't got back in the case the same way! I'm looking forward to my five weeks living in the same place in Sydney just because there wont be any more packing or living out of a case. I took an early night just knowing that I had to be up and moving a lot of weight the next morning and I had an excellent dream about a zombie apocalypse where pretty much everyone I know made some sort of cameo appearance at one point or another.

G.O.R (Time for a jumbled up history lesson!)

When the alarm stared going with it's familiar and offensive noise, I grabbed it and for a fleeting second wondered if I could pospone the trip until another day. But I got up and showered. The room was absolutely freezing, but I guess that was my fresh out the shower skin mixed together with being tired. I fumbled about for five minutes trying to put the heater on in my room. Thermostat set to thirty...

The coach picked me up right on time. We drove all around St Kilda picking other people up before heading into the city and stopping outside a McDonalds where everyone filed off and got onto their designated trip coaches (some people were going to other places). I was one of the last to arrive and sat on a little single seat towards the back of the twenty four seater coach, and off we went!

The driver and tour guide for the day was Gary. He started talking almost immediately and drew my attention to the microphone hanging down from the ceiling just in front of me. He instructed us all to go around, one by one and introduce ourselves and talk about what we were looking forward to. I let the microphone get passed to everyone else around the coach, and when it finally arrived back with me, I sank down as low as I could into the chair and put the microphone back where it had come from, prompting some school like giggles from some of the people behind me. I'd even thought up a bit about "Hi I'm Kim, and I'm an alcoholic" or to say that I was looking forward to seeing London Bridge to see what the comparison was, but this required effort. And the best part is, I got away with it.

Gary filled us with trivia the whole way there and some of the way back. We started out of Melbourne completely headed for a place called Geelong (pronounced g'long, the idiots), which was sort of the next place outside of Melbourne. The commuter area like Stevenage or somewhere like that. We were told about the timber extraction and how a lot of places in Geelong chipped wood to be sent to Japan to be sent back as paper. We drove over the West Gate bridge to get there, which was just a long bridge, your bogstandard bridge, but the third longest in Australia and the two flags that they'd put on the top of the bridge cost just under $400,000 which is stupid... In Geelong, we were driven around the town, down by the bay and the marina and shown the houses that cost upwards of two million each. The driver was particularly passionate about this place because it's where he grew up and lives now and works. Apparently this place also was the birth place of the Westfield shopping centre, and I'm sure there's one of those in Nottingham?

We headed to a place called Torquay which is the start of the Great Ocean Road. The road itself was built by all the solders who came back from WW1 as a tribute to the fallen. Which doesn't seem fair to me. You've spent a few years risking your life every day during battle and you've survived! NOW BUILD A ROAD.

I could go into every detail about where we went and what happened next, but I believe the trip can only really be summed up in pictures;

A quick stop was made on the roadside to have tea and biscuits and a bathroom break. The wind had really picked up and the sky was overcast and there were a lot of seagulls who obviously were not afraid of humans.

We went to Bells beach, which is a great place for surfing and mentioned in the film Point Break. There are a lot of contests held here, and it is very rocky and the sea quite rough, so no good for sunbathing, but great for surfing.

We went to a township called Lorne which apparently is home to a lot of artists and musicians and there is a fabulous market every Sunday in which they showcase all of their work. There's also a really good music festival which happens everywhere and Interpol headlined this Summer.

The roads were very very windy and bendy and climbed steeper and steeper upwards.

We stopped off somewhere (I'm not quite sure where exactly it was), but it was small. There was just a camping area and a small shop, yet lots of other coaches full of people on tours. This is where we walked around for a little bit and saw the koalas at the very top of the eucalyptus trees. Some were eating and picking leaves and some of them were all balled up and clinging onto the tree having a sleep. One little guy was quite active and jumping the branches, but he wasn't cute because he had a pee. Apparently koalas have no nerves in their bums, just bone which is why they can sit on a branch all day and not be bothered. They sleep during the day and move around at night stripping trees of their leaves and pretty much trying to get themselves extinct by eating their food source quicker than it can regenerate.

There was a field we passed that had kangaroos in it. They were quite far away and stupid looking. Just laying in the grass sleeping. Apparently the roos and the koalas here are fluffier than the ones further up the country because they've adapted to the slightly cooler temperature. Kangaroos again sleep all day and then hop about at night and are prone to hopping in front of cars and writing your car off completely.
We stopped in a township called Apollo Bay for our lunch, which was one of the last big ports of call before the big drive to Adelaide. I had the souvlaki and it was good!!

Next, we stopped at a rainforest, Maits Rest rainforest walk, which was a tiny chunk of the rainforest that had been set up for tourists to walk around safely. Lots of mud and steep hills and buzzing things and the temperature was so very cool inside underneath all the canopies. We learned about the different trees and how they reproduce and how so many of the species were brought over from other countries.

In Port Campbell, The Twelve Apostles was the highlight of the tour for most people. It's basically a big long walkway out towards the sea where you can marvel at the huge stacks of limestone rock that have been separated from the land. There were twelve of them, but some of them have fallen down due to the same eroding that carved them there in the first place. Seeing as the sea never stops though, it will continue to make more.

Gary explained about Lord Ard Gorge, (which is where I'm standing on the beach), and about a ship that was sunk there. This boy Tom Pearce escaped unscathed and rescued and Irish passenger called Eva Carmicheal and stayed with her for days and nights until he could find help. They both survived, but predictably, didn't end up getting married. She went back to Island and he became the Captain of his own ship.

The last stop was to see the London Bridge, or the London Arch as it's now called. Two arches together that look like London Bridge. Apart from one of the arches fell into the see. In 1990, a couple taking a romantic stroll right to the edge of the 'bridge' felt the ground shake beneath them. When they turned around, that arch had crumbled away, leaving them stranded with nobody around. They waited and waited and waited and eventually, somebody saw them and raised the alarm and they were rescued. The couple didn't want either of their identities to be published along with the story, because the man had phoned in sick to work that day, and the woman was not his wife! I assume this is why there were lots of 'look out' points near the points of attraction on the beach, but no way down to the sand. The elements are taking their toll on the cliffs and making them too unstable to stand near.

From here, we started on our way back to Melbourne, not on the scenic country roads that we'd came on, but on the Princes Highway through towns and fields and eventually onto a motorway, stopping briefly for a Chinese noodle supper. The towns I saw whilst driving through the countryside were so unbelievably cute and exactly how I imagine the town is in the book that I'm reading (Nicholas Sparks, The Choice). Once stuck in my mind, Winchealsea. We drove through the high street and it had a tiny general store and a tiny veterinarians office, and a doctor stroke dentist office and the smallest library I've ever seen and the school and there was a few streets that lead off the high street which contained the houses and homes of Winchelsea. It was so far away from the next town, it reminded me of middle America and I really wanted to get off and have a nosey around. We got home at nine, after travelling just over 300kms. The whole day was so much fun and it was so nice to get out of the city and see the REAL Australia, even though it was still Australia made for tourists. I only wish that I could go and see more of it.

The second Sunday in February

"The St Kilda Festival is a popular community festival held in the Melbourne (Australia) suburb of St Kilda. Traditionally held on the second Sunday in February, the festival is about showcasing live Australian music, family and children's entertainment, beach activities and much more all presented in a carnival atmosphere. The festival has run since 1980. In 2010, it attracted around 400,000 people."

I woke up relatively late. I was going to the St Kilda Festival that day and the thing started at 10am, so I was already two hours late. But I figured I wouldn't be able to manage a whole twelve hours outside anyway. I grabbed a shower and checked out the window. It was murky outside so I put on some jeans and a t-shirt and packed my bag with a hoody and a bottle of water. I phoned my Mom quickly just to let her know how I was and then I set off to the trams to head down to St Kilda.

About three trams on their way to St Kilda pulled up but they were all absolutely rammed full of people, so I waited and got on a tram going to 'St Kilda Grey Street' which was empty, which of course made me question whether or not I was on the correct tram! There was a slight breeze outside which gave me goosebumps, which isn't supposed to happen in the Australian Summer surely?!?! I rode the tram until the driver said that it was the last stop [due to the festival] and hopped off.

The street I got off was a long, wide street with shops and cafes either side and the tram track running straight down the middle. And the place was absolutely swarming with people. The whole town of St Kilda basically had shut down and was now over run with people in the streets and groups packed into the small outside areas of the cafes smoking and cheering at one another whilst they drank pitchers (or jugs, sorry) of beer. The feeling around with very electrifying and full of excitement and energy. And just as I started my walk down the long wide street, the sun appeared. And it was hot. And I was in a t-shirt and jeans...

The first act that I encountered in the street was a guy with his shirt off and a microphone connected to a little amp that was playing a beat. I walked up to the crowd to see what was going on but immediately stayed at the back once I realised. He was freestyle rapping about the day and the people in his audience and the unsuspecting people walking by. I snuck off after a couple of minutes very quietly before he could notice and rap about me walking away.

The next guy I saw had a small audience encircled around him. He was stood on a box that had a Canadian flag on it and had a couple of step ladders around him and was entertaining a little girl. I stopped to have a look at his act. He was very enthusiastic and kept making the audience clap and cheer for doing "such a great job". He pulled out three other adults from the audience and gave them props, a garden fork, a wooden oar and an umbrella. He stood on his box with two drumstick sized sticks and pointed to each one in turn asking them to throw their item. When they did, and he caught it, he started spinning them around with his drumsticks, never dropping them. He went on to juggle a hand grenade, chainsaw and knife and his finale was him lying on a bed of nails whilst asking another member of the audience to stand and put their full weight on him. It was all very circus orientated and I enjoyed it, up until just before the finale, where he gave a five minute speech about his poor life and that we must give him twenty dollars for what we'd seen because even that, was conning him. As the crowd dispersed to give him their donations, I left, feeling a little insulted. If he hadn't have begged and tried to force, well, then maybe I would have helped him out...

The sun was really blazing down on me now and my jeans were feeling very heavy. I debated on whether to get a tram back to the hotel and change, but seeing how unpredictable the weather can be over here, I left it as I'd probably change, come back and get cold. I carried on walking down the street and passed some clothing stalls and then I entered a food area. It was about 3pm by this point and I was hungry! Down on the beach level off the street, I spotted a souvlaki (basically, a kebab) stand that was surrounded by grass for me to sit on, so I made my way down to it. They were charging extortionate rates for everything, so I just had a hot dog, fries and a coke which came out at fourteen bucks and I managed to get yellow mustard all over my jeans which annoyed my thoroughly. I lazed around in the sun a while before getting up to carry on my exploration.

I went down the side of a building which lead me quite easily to the beach, at which point, like a dog, all I wanted to do was bound onto the sand and make my way to the sea. But I didn't. I walked along the beach passed all the bars with their huge queues to get in and their rooftop areas (which I bet are amazing as the sun sets. I think I'll try and go to one for some photo opportunities once I move to the new hostel). There was a Zumba class going on too.

I carried on walking up to a drum workshop for kids, and then around the back to a fun fare area that had motorbikes and bmxs doing stunts along ramps and big arches. Beyond this area, was another separate enclosed area with a stage and lots of ethnic and hippy reconstructed clothes and recycling information and curry stands and a stage with some psychedelic 60's throw back band, but the people up here were dancing a little crazy and obviously on some sort of hallucinogen, so I left. I took a stroll down the pier right to the very end, passed the obligatory pier restaurant. Right down the end, a man kept throwing an empty bottle right out as far as he could and making his dog jump off the pier into the water, fetch the bottle, swim quite a way back up the pier to some steps and run back to him only to repeat the whole thing again. Stupid dog... (a cat obviously would never do that). There were some steps at the end of the pier that I went down, and down there close to the sea level, there were penguins! Maybe I was one of those stupid people that thought penguins only lived in cold places, but I saw them in their little nests in the rocks. They were a special sort of penguin and that small area off the end of the St Kilda pier was their breeding ground and a protected area.

I took a walk in a completely separate direction, passed another children's fun fare area and entered another sort of ethnic zone, with some flamboyant carnival float. It was only when I saw on the back of one of the guys jackets 'Hare Krishna Security' that I had a chuckle. They were giving out free watermelon and books and had a small stage where a group chanted whilst the audience swayed around in the breeze. I visited a tent that held 'all the secrets to vegetarian cooking' where two guys were cooking live and sharing their advice and recipes. I was only after some food..

I went back down to the beach and sat there for around an hour until my Dad called. The beaches themselves aren't much to shout about. And for that matter, neither is St Kilda. The beaches have brown water and trampled orangey sand. And St Kilda has been described as the 'Benidorm' of Melbourne which says it all really. The people are all very superficial and arrogant and walk around in their groups of identical friends. Realising this, I got up, hungry and ready to go back and sort out my things for Monday, but as I started walking, Lydia sent me a text saying that she had finished work now and was heading down if I still wanted to meet up. We met by the pier and wandered around all the sights that Lydia had missed out on by being at work, but then we decided to go and get a drink, which turned out to be a mission in itself. We walked all down St Kilda high street where all the bars and restaurants were and couldn't find anywhere that wasn't bursting at it's seams with people. We realised that it would have to be one of these full to capacity places that we went to, but when we tried to enter one, the bouncer outside told us immediately that there were too many people inside already. Even though two people directly in front of us walked straight in without batting an eye lid. I still think that it was because we were both wearing t-shirts and jeans...

We found another place that was slightly quieter outside but as soon as we set food inside it was buzzing. Tired of walking around though, we took a table and ordered our drinks. Lydia moved out of Northampton three years ago, did some travelling and went to Queenstown on the South Island of New Zealand and I think she was living and working there until recently when she decided that she wanted a change of life and moved over to Oz, starting in the Gold Coast and then coming to Melbourne. She's just sorting herself out and working for her keep in the next hostel that I'm going to which is a spot of luck. (I believe this all to be correct, like I said it was loud). We had another drink whilst we were chatting before the bill was rudely slammed down on our table (we didn't ask), and whilst we were continuing our conversation and finishing our drinks (yeah, we still had drinks), one of the waitresses came over and picked up the bill and opened it, before slamming it back down because we hadn't put our money in yet (no tip for you!).

She got me back to the hostel so I could where it was. There was a tram stop outside so we said goodbye, arranging to meet up for drinks on Wednesday because she wants to celebrate not being poorly anymore and I want to celebrate Goldsmiths. The tram took around twenty minutes to come, what with it being the festival and a Sunday night, so I didn't get back to the hotel until half eleven. I popped next door into McDonalds because I was still hungry, and as there was a queue, I had time to study the menu. I notice that they do salads and snackwraps, so I had the cheapest version of both of those and then snuck them back into my room like a hamster to munch on them before falling asleep to wake up at 5am.

Lazy Bones

I thought it best to combine today (Saturday's) post and yesterday (Friday's) post simply because both days have been very uneventful. Yesterday morning I really couldn't get out of bed for just feeling exhausted. My mom thinks it's the jet lag, I think it's the lack of a proper meal and dehydration, but anyway. I crawled out of bed at around 2 o clock and with heavy eye lids went downstairs to call America to check in. Even though I didn't have the energy, I had a nice hot shower but preceded to go back to bed afterwards and just sleep. In the evening, I popped a couple doors up to an Italian restaurant to have myself a nice meal, which is the reason that I hadn't bothered with any lunch that day (Oh dear, it is a sad state of affairs isn't it!?). I'm so unsure about etiquette over here, so I didn't book a table for fear of sounding like a fool, but I was seated straight away. Pretty much everything on the menu was making me salivate at the thought, but when I clocked the penne puttenesca with anchovies and delicious salty olives, I couldn't resist. So I ordered that, and thought I'd treat myself to something other than the tap water I'd been given (I know you can drink the water from the tap but I just don't like the taste of tap water!). Dinner came, piping hot and huge so I sat and ate very slowly, probably to the waiters disgust that I was taking up a table for myself and not ordering much, but I ate and savoured every delicious bite. After dinner I went home, got back into my PJ's and put on a really poor film about a computer that gained the power of free will until I fell asleep.
I during the space of the last couple days, some people have moved into the top floor here, whereas before, it was just me and two bathrooms to myself. This leaves me ill amused, just because this morning, one of the guests thought it was a fabulous idea to just keep opening and closing the door to their room almost constantly. Either that or they were severely mentally retarded...

And today was the same really. I woke up and watched the news for a few hours from the dark confines of my room. I still felt ever so tired. I had a shower and after calling my mom, went to the McDonalds for a Happy Meal. A $6.50 happy meal. I didn't even get it in a box and the girl phrased the question about the toy 'you don't want the toy do you' in such a way that I couldn't really say 'yes I do in fact' without sounding like a chump. After lunch, I debated on seeing if I could make the journey into the city on foot, but it was really cold out today. Hoody weather. And the sun was popping in and out of the clouds. Plus, I was still feeling tired, so I opted out and went upstairs to watch a few films on my netbook. By evening time, I went and bought my Subway for tea and toyed with the idea of going out to a bar tonight. But seeing as I'm going to the St Kilda festival tomorrow, I thought it best if I saved my money for that rather than just go out tonight for the sake of it.

The good news is that I've managed to make contact with Lydia, one of Tamar's friends who happens to be in St Kilda at the minute. The three of us went out in Northampton, Christ, about three years ago. But Tamar had said to me 'if you're in Melbourne', which of course I wasn't going to be, so I thought it would be cool to see if she wanted to go for a drink or something. I'd really like to celebrate my Goldsmiths news after all! We've added one another on Facebook and swapped cell phone numbers. She said she's working a lot for the next few days because she's working for her keep in a hostel, but she'll be in touch when she gets some time off. So fingers crossed, because from what I remember of our night out in Northampton all those years ago, we had a good time!

So this is it. I'm going to watch some TV on my netbook for a little bit and call it a night. I'm looking forward to going to the festival tomorrow. It might be on the beach which would be very cool indeed. After all, I'm STILL yet to see the sea...

Rain, rain, go away.

The weather was supposed to be good. 29 degrees and sunshine, but when I awoke in the morning, this was obviously not the case. It sure was hot, but there was no sunshine. I'd planned to take the tram the opposite way from normal, out of the city and towards St Kilda to wile away my hours on the beach. But I shelved this and headed into the city instead. One of the things on my to do list was to head back to the street where Jessica and I had had dinner that evening as she said it was very bohemian and there were lots of vintage shops.

I caught the tram from St Kilda Road to Swanston and from there I got on a tram heading to somewhere but via "Smith Street", which I remembered was what the street was called. Heading back into the city, I noticed how busy it was which was something that hadn't struck me before when I was one of the ants crawling about. Lots of Japanese people filled the tram, but they got off around the "China Town" district. I got to Smith Street and decided to walk right to the end on one side of the street, then cross over and come back on myself.

I'm afraid to say that I was heavily disappointed. I suppose I had dreams of the edginess of Camden Market, but the street just didn't live up. It was dirty, Bronx style. The cafes and pubs all looked quite dingy and everything was black, I guess that was supposed to help represent the "alternative" feel that everybody was trying to get across. The only nice thing was that the smell of incense was making it's way down the breeze, but I think that it was emanating from one of the 'Bob Marley Rasta Smoke Shops' that seemed to be quite popular. I popped into a few of the vintage shops in hopes of finding a cute 'one of a kind' dress that I could bring home, but I was horrified. All of the clothes, in all of the shops, had obviously been pulled straight from the racks of the local Salvation Army. Clothes that you wouldn't dream of putting on, but of course, once something is labelled 'vintage', it instantly becomes desirable (I have a pair of big chunky Kickers boots from my first year in secondary school laying around somewhere that stink. I wonder if I could pawn them off on some poor impressionable soul if I just say that they're genuine vintage). $50 was the minimum price for one of these horrible ill fitting, garish garments. I decided I'd pass...

As I wandered along trying to find a tram stop, I walked passed a strings shops. I stood and pawed at the window for a while looking at the Cellos and the Violas, but I didn't dare go in. After all, what can I say about a years playing? First position doesn't get you very far in the world of the string... I rode back to the CBD and decided it was time that I found a supermarket. I'd seen a Coles Express somewhere but hadn't been able to find my way INTO wherever it was. I thought I'd try and reinvestiage this. Unfortunately, when I got off on Swanston, I realised that I had no idea where I'd seen this Coles, so I walked through the Chineesey part of town until I happened upon a "Woolworths" sign. Don't get excited. It's not like our Woolworths. It's like a Publix in America, really like a Publix. I suppose it's nearest British cousin would be Morrisons. I took my time walking around even though it was only little. I stopped to look at all the brands and products. Again, very America. Easy Mac and my nice Campbell's soups in the red jar. I bought five smart priced pot noodles, a box of cup a soups, some 'Scottish biscuits' which I supposed were like shortbread, a big bag of crisps, a bottle of water and a bottle of flavoured water all for under ten bucks and this made me very pleased. Pleased enough that I went next door to the liquor section (like America, it's usually a separate part of the shop altogether) and I bought a four litre box of wine for ten bucks. Which completely rains on all of those $8 drinks I've had in the bars...

I was loaded up like a mule by this point. The bags were flimsy and it was very quickly becoming rush hour, so time was running out for me to get back to the hotel. I managed it though, with red marks on my hands from holding the plastic bags. Time was getting on, so after I'd spoken to my Dad, I got my Subway tea, threw on a dress and had myself a glass of wine from the comfort of my bed, whilst I watched a couple of episodes of Friends. I figured that since I didn't make it to the beach in St Kilda, I might as well check out the night life, after all the next hostel I'll be going to is in St Kilda. A couple of trams came to the stop but I waited for the one that said 'Kew, via St Kilda', knowing full well that the one I needed was 'St Kilda Beach'. When I saw the words St Kilda on a tram stop further down the line, I panicked and jumped off. Just to realise I was at a weird tram and highway intersection with not a lot going for it and no tram connection to the beach. I asked a girl who was smiling at me for directions but it turned out she was Scottish and just travelling like I was. I walked down an underpass and headed along the straight tram line that I was following, and eventually found Alberts Park, which I recognised from one of my Map Quests. It seemed I was at the end of a long street (I believe it was Fitzroy Street, possibly the main one), with a Park on one side and cafes and bars all along the other. I walked for a fair while and decided that I'd see if Henry was up as I'm trying to just say Hi to everyone these next few days. He was, so we had a good chat while I walked around squinting without my glasses for a nice establishment to have a drink in.

I found this pub. Black. The Rolling Stones blaring out and lots of people hanging around outside with cigarettes and small glasses of beer (a pot? I think).  I figured here was as good as any and it had a tram stop outside, so I walked up the side of the street next to it whilst I finished my conversation. The Heavens literally opened whilst I was talking to Henry. It was a good job that where I was standing, I was under and awning, but it was on a hill, so all the water eventually came running down the street and all over my good sandals. Water was gushing upward out of all of the storm drains and people were running and screaming for their lives. I believe the news said that 2cms fell in twenty five minutes. Still, I didn't mind because I had shelter. It stopped as quickly as it had started and I headed into the bar. It reminded me of an American bar. One big space with pool tables and high bar stools and people sitting at the bar. There was a band playing in the upstairs area, but it was $30 to get in and that made it not worth my time. I had a vodka lemonade and a glass of white wine but could feel myself getting tired and the rest of the crowd was beginning to filter out. I headed to the tram stop and got on a tram to East Brunswick, but panicked when I didn't recognise anything from outside of the window. I asked the driver who laughed at me, but then told me to ride the tram all through the city to Swanston Street and then pick up a tram from there, so I did that. I really don't like having to rely on the kindness and knowledge of others to get me around places. I like to be able to rely entirely on myself and this is a new feeling. I made it back to the hotel at around midnight and watched Elton John talking to some American chat show host about his baby before drifting off to dream of hunstmans.

Pub Classic

I woke up in my lovely big bed this morning with the sunshine pouring through the cracks in the curtains and the trams and cars buzzing by outside. The first thing I did was check my email, just to see if Goldsmiths had sent me another email (they had, but only inviting me to another open day), and my Facebook notifications. It was around 9am which was really good for me! I was still tired, but couldn't sleep, so I just watched the morning news programmes. More detailed stories about the lady in Northampton and a scandalous story about a politician over here who when speaking about a solider who'd died in Afghanistan, said "tough shit" about the death. It seems the world is just fraught with scandal and governments making fools of themselves.

When I say I had a lazy day today, I had a REALLY lazy day. I stayed in bed 'til lunchtime watching the news and scouring the internet for information on Goldsmiths. I had a quick shower and phoned my mom before heading out for, you guessed it, a Subway (please, I don't ever want a Subway ever again once I put foot on British soil). I think I've totalled nine Subway sandwiches since I got here. I brought that back up to the comfort of my room. But I'd noticed what I lovely day it was outside. Blue skies, glorious Australian sunshine with a light breeze. I think it was 28 degrees out today. I'd earlier booked a tour of the Great Ocean Road for Valentines Day, which wasn't cheap, and I'm becoming ever more conscious of money. I didn't want to pay the 6.80 for the tram, especially when I didn't really have anywhere to go.

I checked on Google maps to see what was in the area and found that there's a big park right around the corner from the hotel, so this was my destination. Ipod and Kindle in tow, I set off. The park was big and beautiful and peaceful and green. There were lots of people walking and a few couples chatting in the grass. I became very aware that in grass lurks spiders, and so I walked around a little before I had the courage to actually sit down. I found a nice tree that was getting a lot of sun, and very cautiously bed down with my things. Like anything, five minutes of adjustment and I was fine. I laid on my bag and listened to some cheery Summer music, letting my pale in comparison to the native skin slowly sizzle under the hot sunshine. I hung out here for a couple of hours alternating between sunning myself like a cat, and getting deeply involved with the book I'm reading; The Choice, by Nicholas Sparks. I'd neglected to take any water out with me and so this meant that I had to head back to the hotel.

I was a little lost as to what to do in the evening. Again, I didn't want to pay for tram fare and again, still, I didn't have anywhere to go. I googled for a 'rock' pub in the CBD that I might be able to find my way to and got all dressed up. I decided to get a discounted tram ticket which lasted for two hours, and headed into the city, with a lot of misplaced anxiety on 'tram ettiquet', i.e. how to hail them, where to stand (the trams around here run in the middle of the street with a tiny, tiny walkway area for you to stand in that's in between the two trams going in the opposite direction from one another). I ummed and ahhed about said anxiety, but figured if I didn't go now then I'd be stuck in my room scared to use the trams for the rest of my day here.
I suppose again, it's like any city, but all the weirdos seemed to be out on my tram ride into the city. A man started sat next to me and started ranting on about how everybody kept to themselves and how rude it was, so when he directed his verbal diarrhoea at me, I told them that they probably had a good reason for not talking to him. My blunt comment seemed to go over his head, and he pointed to my tattoo and asked me if I realised that the symbol on my arm was an ohm. I got off at the next stop...

I found the place, off Flinders Lane down a back alley called "AC DC road". The street was covered with band posters and graffiti and there were lots of people outside being lairy holding pints and smoking cigarettes. I went in and headed to the bar. Again, I panicked when I was asked what I wanted, and so just replied vodka and lemonade. I saw a couple of girls on a long rounded sofa and asked if I could sit on the edge. There was a documentary about a band playing very loudly, and little chance of conversation, so I sat and nursed my drink very slowly. An old lady came around with some sort of hors d'oeuvre that she kept trying to feed me, but I didn't want to get anything on my dress so I declined. The other thing I noticed was that there was a carafe of iced table water on the bar with glasses that you could just help yourself to, and I think that this is a common thing in a lot of bars and restaurants.



I left after a few songs. My tram ticket had nearly expired anyway, plus my two drinks had come to $18 and I wasn't having any more of that. At least I know of somewhere I can go in the future. I managed to get my way back the hotel and into my pjs before tucking in to a carefully stashed sandwich in my mini fridge. To my horror, Embarrassing Bodies and all of it's rubbish affiliations with common working class fame hungry Britons was on the television, so I thought at 11:15pm, it was time to call it a day, listening quietly to the man who was sobbing over the size of his breasts until I fell asleep.

The TV, AC, mini fridge and the double bed.

I woke up yesterday morning predictably early. I'd had a bit of a panic the previous day because I'd forgotten the pin for my credit card and I was awaiting a text message during the night from my Dad because I was so sure I'd written it in a notebook. Alas, there was no message so after I text him to make sure, he called which threw my brain straight into gear.

After checking the message I'd received when I first connected to Vodafone Australia to make sure that you paid 75p for the connection charge but then used up your back home minutes, I gave Sam a ring for a natter. I didn't fancy having a shower if I could help it, so I tried to make the best of a bad face sat on and smacked my suitcase and rucksack about until I could jam everything in and set off.

Now, the hotel my Dad booked me. I knew it was on St Kilda Road, however, that didn't tell me how to get to St Kilda Road!! I set off down the main street and ended up calling the hotel who gave me clear and concise directions about which tram I should take. It wasn't a lot of fun walking through the high rise buildings, weaving through suits dragging 25 kilos with another 5 on my back. I just tried to not get in anybodies way and made it to the tram stop on Swanston. I struggled to get the case up the steep step onto the tram but I managed and checked with the driver that we were going to the corner of St Kilda and Toorak Road. He said he'd give me a shout when we got there. I tried to manoeuvre my suitcase to the ticket machine in the centre of the tram with great difficulty. I had a little fall, but luckily it was onto the soft landing of my case. I could see people getting a little aggravated with me and my burly things being in the way of their closed off, busy and important selves, but it was funny.

I got off the tram once prompted and was virtually on the doorstep of the hotel. It's on quite a busy intersection, but it was surrounded by a Subway (yes!), a Maccas, a convienience store, a Seven Eleven and a couple of Japenese cafes, the flavour of the month apparently. The building itself was tall and cute and very out of place in the street with a couple of big trees right out the front. I hopped over and up the stairs and the lady receptionist was there to greet me almost immediately. She was very kind and asked a big hefty Australian man to take my suitcase up to the third level for me, and she showed me around the room before leaving me to it.

The hotel is very Fawlty Towers (which will be my TV show of the trip. I watch them over and over. There's something very comforting about them). It's clean. Very grand staircases and a very dated reception desk. There's lots of posh chairs littered about and large vases with fake plants and regal looking pictures on the wall and patterned wallpaper and navy blue carpets. The room is small but well appointed, with a mini fridge, heater and air conditioning unit, lots of cupboard and drawer space, cable TV, a double bed and of course, the most important thing, the Wifi! Which unfortunately doesn't have a very strong connection being at the top of the house here, but it's just enough to get me on FB and enables me to do a little browsing. The only downside honestly is that my room is adjacent to that busy intersection, but I have my ear plugs for night and to be honest, I'd rather listen to roaring cars than booming male laughter and little girls giggles all night long.

I made the place my own immediately, flooding the dressing table with makeup and hair accessories and threw my clothes and electronics all over the bed. I settled down and got out my netbook to see if I'd had any emails during the night. And I had An email from a Jonathan Fletcher which I glanced over amongst the clutter of my facebook notifications. And then I noticed [Goldsmiths] in brackets but again, it didn't strike me as odd as they've been emailing me for a while to go and visit the campus on an open day. And then I noticed 'offer notice attached' and my heart started beating so fast that it was almost certainly going to burst through my chest. When I opened it and saw the words "I am delighted (to offer you a place)" I screamed! Jesus Christ in heavens above! Tears built up immediately. It's just amazing. I didn't have a cat in hells chance of getting into Goldsmiths. I can remember telling Adam two years ago that I was going to apply and he laughed at me. And quite rightly so, after all, I'm 100 points off the entry requirements with no prior knowledge of the subject. It's still very humbling that somebody read my personal statement, which was very personal considering the last two years of my life, and they read that and they saw a spark of potential in me and were willing to give me that chance I so desperately need. Maybe I don't have very high standards but I think such an artistic school in London is so very prestigious indeed and somewhere that I would be proud to study at.
I'm smiling again =)

After that wonderful news I freaked out and managed to Skype my mom successfully to tell her the good news. I had a good chat to her, and Kaley. I kicked my shoes off, had a shower and then made my way to the Victoria Market again to try and find myself some walking shoes, for the city and especially for when I get to NZ. I was very proud of myself that I navigated the trams, guessed the stop, walked down a street that I thought was in the right direction and I found the market no problem. I even found the shoe stall that I'd clocked whilst walking around the other day. I saw some shoes that I liked because even though they've got to be practical and comfortable, I also had a picture of what they must look like, brown, trainer like with a black sole that were shaped like boots without the high cuff around the top. The ones I liked were $119 so I tried on some others but they just didn't look right. I went in for a haggle. HA. Kim haggling. I don't even talk to people on a normal day. I told him I didn't have much money and I got them to $75, but like a pro, I explained I'd only brought $60 out and got up to leave. But he gave me a good price at $60 only because he "wanted to look after me". I left very pleased with myself and hit up Melbourne Central Mall for a little wander just to kill some time before heading back to the hotel.

I stayed in the hotel all afternoon. Writing, emailing, googling, and just having a rest in my own personal space. It was nice to relax again without fear of some man and his girlfriend coming in, getting stark naked in front of you to change their clothes and then leaving again. The only time I left was to get myself a Subway sandwich and arrange to stay an extra three nights courtesy of my kind Father. By eight o clock I was in my PJ's trying desperately not to get tuna all in the bed and I just watched some rubbish on TV until I drifted off into the land of nod.

HOWEVER.
This room with it's high ceilings and big white walls lets my imagination run wild with mental projected scribblings of large eight legs. I'm quite sure one will appear during the night, lit up by the flickered glow of the television, and it will stare at me. This thought and it's lacking plan of action did keep me up a little longer than it should have last night. No eight legs. At least, not when I'm in a room by myself and completely defenseless. I don't want to have to go and sleep in the hallway...

WHAT THE HELL IS CAPSICUM??

Monday?

I started off my Monday with another horrific shower. The other people in the hostel were doing their best to bark like dogs at one another from quite early on, so I got up and went out. I had to go and sort my bank bits out and visit the Maccas to check my email. From there, I decided to go for a wander. I wanted to see if I could make it back to Fitzroy on foot. I've included a little map of how far I walked just because I'm impressed with myself that I didn't end up whinging and turning back halfway through.

I went to the station and managed to find my way across the bridge. Not that it was hard enough at all, just a case of crossing a road and walking onwards... The Yarra is brown and yucky. I walked for a while and took a stroll through Alexandra Park and the Queen Victoria gardens which were beautiful. Apart from the distant road noise, I really felt like I was in Australia and stopped on a couple of benches to kill time and have a ponder about things. There were lots of people running and sunbathing and doing generic city centre green space activities. From there I carried on walking towards the right (My compass consists of left or right, up and down), and reached all the sporting places like the Tennis Centre and the cricket ground although there wasn't really much to see apart of Japanese tourists taking pictures and construction workers.

I must tell you about the schizophrenic bridge. Connecting one of the parks to the Melbourne cricket ground, you had to cross a bridge over the railway tracks. It had speakers on each side of the walkway, every three or so panels along. As you walked past each one, a recording started playing, but every speaker had a different recording and you set them all off as you go. A man talking, children laughing, some lady singing in a different language. It was very weird, especially when it was only I alone on the bridge. I did have to stop and wonder if it was all in my head and that I was about to have a break down in the middle of Melbourne with my fingers in my ears shouting 'LA LA LA LA' to drown the voices out. If only for a second...
I walked on down Jolimont Road and entered a residential area of tall Edwardian buildings with tropical gardens and wrought iron fencing which reminded me of Queens or somewhere in New York. I wondered if these houses which I found so pretty to look at were actually 'rough' houses that natives from around here steered clear of. Still, I liked the quiet and the pretty white wooden detailing on the homes. I got as far as Fitzroy gardens which again, was just a big piece of greenery (apparently captain cooks house is there somewhere but I didn't stop long enough to have a look) and I walked towards Richmond before deciding that it wasn't too smart to walk far enough away from the trams that I'd have no way of finding my way back into the city.

I saw St Patrick's cathedral which was a beautiful and surprising sight. The architecture was quite British, gothic and almost medieval. It just seemed odd to see it in a city that resembles America so much with all of it's bland modern buildings. I walked right along Albert Street before finding myself at Parliament. From there, you just walk down to Bourke Street, follow that and bob's your uncle. Home skank home.

I dropped my things and needed to reapply my makeup. The climate here swings from a chilly wind to scorching sun very very quickly, and all of my makeup had come off in the heat. I was also beginning to notice that my impractical Gladiator sandals had given me some impressive blisters and my calves ached like I'd been in a brawl. But I think the latter was more to do with the floppy mattress back at the hostel. I set off in search of somewhere to have a drink, like a grown up. I walked all around the usual areas that I tend to go to but couldn't find any bars so to speak. Just lots of fashionable cafes and global cuisine. I got to the City Square next to Melbourne town hall and saw a collection of big commercial versions of continental cafes and just went up to one and asked the waiter if I had to eat there or if I could just have a glass of wine. He said something quintessentially Aussie and let me sit. So I sat there for a little while nursing a glass of shiraz with tiny sips and reading a book on my kindle.

jimnies before my roomies got back, which they did, pretty much on cue, and I got into bed with several episodes of Friends cued up. Around nine o clock, sleep o and boringo decided it was time to watch a film in their bed. I was a little unnerved by falling asleep whilst they were still up in the room, but was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open. I turned to face away from them with my headphone and my netbook and drifted off. With netbook and headphones still roaring away when I woke up again in the middle of the night.

(If you're wondering what the title of this entry is about, capsicum is what these stupid people call pepper, specifically, regular green yellow and red pepper...)

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Sunday.

Sunday began with my Dad ringing both of my phones at around 9:30am. Of course the Borings were asleep and the ring tone on my Aussie phone is the Animal Hospital theme tune.
Once I properly awoke, I started off the morning washing my dress in the sink with Radox body wash. One of the guys from the night before had knocked a full pint of beer all down me, which in normal circumstances could possibly be forgiven. However I'm playing a game of going as long as I can without doing a load of washing. I'd rather throw $3 down a rat hole, and possibly smell a little too. The bathroom dance is tedious, but perfected. Making sure that NOTHING touches the floor, hanging everything I can from the hooks on the back of the door and ever so carefully stepping out of my shoes, balancing like a stork to remove garments of clothing and then carefully putting my foot straight back in the shoe.

I went to Maccas (they actually call it Maccas over here. Safe), for some lunch to help soak up the alcohol from the night before and to dun dun dun, leech the wireless. The heavens opened so I ended up stranded in there for a couple hours or so. Then I set out to look for a Coles, which is your basic Asda supermarket. I've come to understand that being in the CBD means that the price of everything is jacked up through the roof, and so I had to stpo using the Seven Eleven and shop like a Melbournian. Yep. I read somewhere that that's what they're called. I set off not knowing where I was going. I'm recognising a few of the street names like Lonsdale and Queens and Elizabeth, so I just walked, I think pretty much to the edge of the main city to no avail. I began to follow a rectangle through the streets to find my way back to the hostel, when I happened upon the Queen Elizabeth Market, a big covered market with lots of predictable stalls, surrounded by little tea rooms and doughnut shops. I weaved my way up and down very slowly, looking at the Chinese bracelets and hippie clothing and Australia tack. The thing that really hit me was the feeling of surprise I got every time I saw a little stuffed koala or a cork hat. I'm quite sure that my brain still doesn't know that I'm here. It all feels very natural.

Now Jessica. She is friends with one of the lawyers who works with my mom. My mom had emailed her explaining my complete lost puppy predicament and asked if Jessica could just email me with some tips about the city and advice on the best way to look for accommodation. I ended up meeting with her last night for dinner. She met me at the hostel and we took the tram to Fitzroy and Smith street and she was definitely right! It's really cool around there. Lots of vintage shops and tattoo parlours and cute looking restaurants and cafes that spill onto the street.

One of the most remarkable points of last night was I saw my first Australian cat, and boy did I want to pet it.

She was lovely. We went to this sort of, King Billy exterior looking rock pub that had a really cute and clean restaurant at the back of it. I had the lobster linguine, opting out of the wild boar burger, only because I'm tired of burgers and sandwiches! Jessica brought me lots of maps and a book and talked about her experience when she first moved to Melbourne and it was nice to just have an intellectual conversation with somebody! She got me back to the hostel again, and hopefully I can meet up for lunch again at some point. Although I need to be careful not to pester. I do pester.

I'm realising that there's not a lot to do when you don't have much money or a clue what's going on. There's a zoo I'd like to visit and an aquarium, but I realise everything costs money. I might treat myself to going up the Eureka Sky Deck at some point to have a look at the city from the sky. And everyone loves a glass floor in a high building. The weather sucks. If the weather was nice I'd totally pay the 6.80 to ride the tram down to the beach. Last night I was so cold I was shivering in bed. Australia has a hell of a lot to answer for. I think I'm going to go to Federation Square today after I visit the bank and use the Wifi. I need to make it over the bridge GTA style, or rather, I need to find the bridge to make it over to the other side and get my five stars.
I'm feeling a little like a Sim, with my "Sim" meter. Hunger, bladder, energy, social, hygiene, fun. At the minute they're all getting a little low haha.

Time to make a friend.

So yesterday.

I woke up at silly o clock again.

I started having all these weird ideas about the hostel. It's blatently the type of place that'd have two way mirrors, people that steal from you, and a high probability of being drugged in the night and carted off to the basement to be butchered by some rich Japanese man in a suit.
After getting ready yesterday in hair shower, the nice Canadian girls left. I used this opportunity to have a nice uninterrupted nap. But then, bored, I decided I'd set off on a little walking mission. I walked the entirety of Bourke Street, took a left and wandered the streets down as far as Flinders Station and the Yarra (I know this means nothing to you, but it'll serve as a reminder when I get home and all of this is a distant memory!). Bourke Street is a long wide street that stretches on forever, and the trams run down the middle. There's lots of clothing shops and departments stores and arcades (sort of, mini malls that you walk through with shops inside). I went into Quiksilver and purchased myself a handbag (I need it to carry all of excess weight in on the plane! You're allowed a carry on and a hand bag you see). Of course it had to be Roxy. I had a couple of people ask me for directions which felt good. I don't want to be seen as a tourist because that makes you vulnerable. I walked past Gucci and Louis Vuitton and down towards the river and through this amazing street, I think called the Living Wall. The Living Wall was just a long alley way with beautiful intricate murals all the way down (I don't want to call it graffiti, it was far too artistic and thought out for that) and there was a door open to a grotty building that had some persons art studio inside. I visited a couple of vintage boutiquey clothing stores too, but they were far too overpriced and quite frankly, ugly too.

By the time I got back to the hostel in the evening, my new roomies had moved in, Johnny Foreigner and Mrs Sleep. They were sleeping to I had to teeter about with a torch in the bloody day time. (This annoyed me. I understand you have to be respectful to the other people in the room, but it works both ways and I shouldn't have to feel like my things are restricted during the day because people are sleeping). After this, I decided to try the unthinkable and make a friend, because it was my first Saturday night in Melbourne and I wanted to go out that night and I'm far too fearful to do such a thing on my own. There were a few people hanging out in the kitchen on the patio furniture so I thought I'd try my luck there and sat reading. I tried watching whatever stupid skiing video everyone found so damn funny but still, nobody would engage me at all. This got disheartening very quickly, so I nipped across the road to an exceptionally overpriced liquor store and got myself some a bottle of white to help take the edge off such a crappy circumstance. Another girl appeared in the room, with a floral dress just like mine, a forlorn look just like mine, and started reading too. Once she began talking to another girl I quickly just butted in the conversation and that was how I made some friends. Unfortunately they both had separate plans for the late evening, but I'd managed to get talking to a couple of guys taking a break from university in Perth and I went for a quick drink with them.

Melbourne on a Saturday night is just like every other place in the world ever on a Saturday night. The streets were teaming with people, all drunk and lairy with far too much aftershave wafting down the streets and skirts pulled up just a little too high. We walked around for a bit until we found an Irish pub, which again, might as well have been the Globe (okay I exaggerate for effect, but it's still a pub). At around midnight I headed back to the hostel and into my room to see Johnny Foreigner and Mrs Sleep. Who were sleeping.

I don't feel as unsafe here as I thought I might. In the city that is. Maybe it's because the areas I frequent aren't 'rough' so to speak, but I don't feel like I stick out by being on my own, my greatest fear. The streets are all grid like with just a few alleyways and I'm finding it easy enough to navigate my way back to the hostel like a homing backpacker. One thing I'm really missing is the sun. I need to get my tan on and there's just no sun! It's not even that warm today. I'm going to dump my netbook back in my locked suitcase under my bed (God, they're taking up the entire room, another thing that's annoying me. Whilst I was having a shower this morning they decided to hang a load of clothes off my bed. As soon as they left the room, my response was "nope" and I put them all on their beds). Locked suitcase under my bed and then go for a walkies to find a tram map. There is a circle line (I think) that's a free tram that just takes you around the city. Not a lot will be open today but I want to venture a little further afield tomorrow. My mom's contact in Melbourne who emailed me with some ideas of things to do said that Fitzroy and Collingwood are very bohemian suburbs so I need to check them out. I also need to get to St Kilda. I've been here for four  days and not even seen the sea yet. Kim needs to get her beach on.

Victoria

I woke up yesterday morning at silly o clock again. I figured that I might as well get up and sort my things out and play Tetris with my bag again trying to fit everything back in (the bag weighed 23.7 kgs at the airport, up from 20 when I left Heathrow. Answers on a post card). I sat outside hotel forumle 1 for a little while cuz I had a while after check out 'til my flight and I met a couple of people whilst waiting for the shuttle bus, Toby and Victor. We made small talk for a while, but what really hit me was the fact that I hadn't had a real conversation with anyone since I'd left London, and I did miss it.

The flight was again, textbook. Small twenty seven row plane that got battered with turbulence (I figure some kickback wind from Yasi is heading down the East coast?). I was very good though and only clawed the headrest of the seat in front once. God forbid I say, I'm actually getting used to this 'flying'. I fumbled around the airport once I'd picked up my case and found my way to a bus that took me into Melbourne centre. Upon arriving, I realised that I hadn't got the damnest clue as to where the hell I was going. I found a map and trotted back and forth on the same street for a little while before giving up and asking for directions.

Now this is the fun part.

My first sight of Melbourne Connections Travellers Hostel, was exactly as I feared. And to add salt to the wound, this dump was framed perfectly by the hotel Ibis right behind it. I went in. The owner was particularly rude. I suppose I am just another grotty backpacker whom he can rinse for all my last cents (are they called cents? I know it's dollars, but is it cents too? I must ask someone). I could feel the immense heat from the lack of air conditioning as soon as I walked in. I think the temperature was around thirty four degrees too yesterday afternoon. I was led down some dingy corridors to room 9 whilst being barked orders about curfew and bed linen and a back door for 'after hours' that I was assured, wouldn't open with my key. The room room itself was tiny, very odd shaped. Two bunk beds, one bunk without a mattress. There were two Canadian girls sharing the room with me who seemed friendly enough, but they left shortly after a quick chat to go and find a flat to rent (I wanted to beg them to take me with them...), and so I was left on my own.

(God, I've gone to the communal area to write this and there's loads of cretins walking about. It's 0630 AM and you were shouting all night long, go AWAY!!!!). I feel like the Sky 3 +1 version of Carrie Bradshaw here.

But yes. MCTH. I decided to watch an episode of Faulty Towers with my tea from the safety (ha!) of my room, of course not realising the irony until after. There's a part where Basil lunges himself at a closed door in the hotel and the whole set shakes with all the fragility of paper. Well, that's what it's like here! You can hear everything. Everything shakes. When I was tyring to sleep, the cars on the road were so loud and so clear that I might as well have been sleeping on the street. There's many crevices for a huntsman to come out and say hello from, which is part of the reason that I couldn't sleep. Oh how I long for a bathroom for which you don't have to wear sandals to enter. (Hair central. Hair and urine central). And the communal kitchen from where I'm sat right now. It's quite nice if you like 15 dining chairs (all different) abandoned around mis matching lawn furniture tables. The kitchen looks immense from here too haha. Immense like a death trap with cables hanging everywhere and wonky plug sockets on the wall and a fridge that has obviously been stolen from a bar. I need to sanitize ALL the time.

On a brighter note.

I'd set off in search for a McDonalds because I'm fat. No, I set off for a McDonalds because I needed some of that illusive WiFi. Seeing as I didn't know where the hell I was, I put my head up high so I didn't stick out as the retarded headless tourist chicken that I am. And I walked. And I walked. And I walked until I saw the beautiful glow of that Big M. Melbourne is a gorgeous city. I'm right in the CBD (Central Business District). The perfectly straight grids of roads are all surrounded by high rise buildings containing offices and shops. There's a tram that roams the city which was straight from Nottingham with it's identical "get out of my way" ding as it sets off. There are big beautiful green trees planted into the sidewalk with the arches of branches leaning out over the roads. I can't wait to have somewhere comfortable to sleep so I can really get out there and enjoy without this feeling of complete dread at the thought of returning to my things. The odd thing that I notice is that the crossing lights click at you when it's safe to cross a road. Kinda annoying really. Seeing as it's a city, you have to walk fast and act like you know where you going, surrounded in a sea of suits.

haha, of course fatty wants everything" way. I'll deck him later.

I decided in the early hours of this morning, that this experience is just like a festival. Dirty, uncomfortable, loud people all around, and I never go and listen to the music anyway. I think I would be okay with that if I just had somebody with me. I know that it doesn't help that I am a bit of a princess and I like to be clean and comfortable and connected. I am completely out of my comfort zone here. For everyone who's thinking "shut up and enjoy it", I will, when I get to NZ.  From there on, everything is going to be planned and run smoothly.

Today, I've got to go to Westpac to try and sort out my debit card. And that's my schedule, which is why I'm up bright and early of course! I need to start having a look for places to live too, explore the private sector a little more. I'm desperate for a cup of tea too, I have been for days. And I want some noodles! Such a simple mind huh?

Right. I'm going for a shower. If anything touches me I'll scream and go to the Ibis...

First past the post

From the sanctum of my little grotty bright yellow air conditioned hotel room over looking the DHL warehouse and a busy main road. (When a plane came past the window on it's way to land in at the airport, it was so low and so close that I did have a momentary bout of panic and listened carefully for the BANG).
Welcome to Sydney!

Even though I have no internet access (I have taken FULL advantage of the near by McDonalds wifi, managing to make my breakfast last an hour and my coffee two), I thought I would begin writing this so that I can backdate it when I arrive back into the land of the living. I assume Melbourne will have wifi?!?
My journey here. Quite textbook. My Dad asked me what the new airbus A380 was like when I was boarding yesterday. I replied "big". The journey itself should be mentioned though. I should praise Qantas. In this world of jacking up airfares whilst cutting back on anything considered unnecessary, or even necessary... Qantas put on a good show. It reminded me of a flight with Virgin in the good old days. A menu, with a choice of meals, cheese and biscuits, mars ice cream, a snack bag with cookies and crisps, choice of breakfast (questionable breakfast, but still), an unlimited supply of little fruit salad pots, lots of bottles of water and you could ask for as many soft drinks or alcohol as you like. The service was very good. The plane was in fact big, but it was easy to forget about the fact that there was a whole other deck on top of you. I managed to get put in one of those extra leg room seats you're supposed to pay for due to a big screw up at the airport. Total worthwhile compensation. I slept for a little while until the plane got bumpy over the mountains in between Afghanistan and Iraq (I think?), at which point my eyes couldn't have been more open and I began digging my fingers into the arm rest. I watched four films and twelve and a bit hours later ended up in Singapore, only to repeat the experience again for another eight hours shortly after (as we took off from Singapore, I was watching that wing like a hawk to see if it fancied setting on fire again. It didn't).

I arrived in Sydney about twenty one hours after setting off from Heathrow, tired, sweaty, and hungry. The lady at immigration sort of sniggered when I said I was getting a connection flight to Cairns. I picked up my bag and went to a Qantas desk to enquire about my options. Who sent me to the Jetstar desk in the other terminal (I had to catch a damn train, a really REALLY weird subway train that instead of having the second deck above the level you board, it was underneath it, so the track must have been really deep). Jetstar told me that I actually had to find another QANTAS desk because they couldn't help me. It was around nine o clock by now and the airport was virtually dead due to the lack of flights 'til the morning. I was traipsing around and nearly in tears. The man at the next desk told me there was nothing HE could do, but let me use his phone to call Qantas sales and I was on the phone to them for half an hour, but my new itenery is sorted.
So whilst I was sorting flights, my Dad was on the internet back in England trying to arrange me a hotel to stay for a couple of nights whilst I sorted myself out. Hotel Forumle 1. Ha, it's alright. It has AC. The beds are clean and there's a TV in the room. I would have slept anywhere that had a bed last night. I woke up at around 5am very scared and disorientated. I kept seeing spiders last night (there weren't any, my anxiety is just getting the better of me). I'm waiting for their debut. I don't know what I'll do apart from cry, but I'm waiting. I've spent the day worrying about where to stay in Melbourne. Obviously my place in Cairns was all set up good to go, but I can't go there anymore due to good old Yasi. Hours have been spent scouring the internet and on the phone, but I've found a three share room until Tuesday to tide me over.

It's thirty eight degrees outside. The only real conclusion that I've been able to draw from my limited time here hauled up in my hotel room is that Sydney really reminds me of Florida. Besides ABC and CBS and "Fox"tel and their line up of trashy news formats and continuous broadcasts of Seinfeld and Wife Swap, it's just the feeling I get. The roads are designed the same, the people are just as friendly, the climate is almost identical. I think that this fact is what's making me feel quite at ease here. I don't feel half as far from home as I actually am.

In fact, I still have to pinch myself (yes, cliche) to actually remember that I'm in Sydney! Jesus Christ I'm in Sydney!