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...