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...
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