After leaving our boat, Eva and I continued our journey by electric tram through Melbourne to the St. Kilda Artisan Fair, where we met up with her brother and his girlfriend to enjoy the beach environs. I watched the varying sections of the city through the window as we passed, each with its own personality and character, but impossible to photograph through the badly scratched windows. Old and new come together in an eclectic mix of neighborhoods. We pass a kiosk, where someone has left behind a large bouquet of balloons, looking alone and forlorn, hoping to be reclaimed. And an older street person, who has no sign, but whom is given small bits of money as people walk by. Soon it’s time to disembark and as we do, we breath in the crisp salt air from the bay.
Up and over a bridge over the main highway and we are at the artisan fair. Much like our Saturday market in Portland, OR, there are a multitude of booths containing a wide variety of arts and crafts. From fine art to fine soaps, souvenirs to sculpture, I see for the first time, the amazing talent of the Australian artists. And in such a beautiful setting, with the bay in the background and the palms all around! I want one of everything!!! But knowing I have little room in my suitcases, I simply drink in the beauty and commit it to memory and settle for a few small things.
From the fair, we walk towards the nearby Luna Park and the Palais Theater. The art deco theater was built in 1927 and is situated just across the street from the eclectic Luna Park entrance: the gaping mouth of a neon clown. A peep inside takes you back to a Coney Island setting: terrified screams coming from the roller coaster, lovers walking hand-in-hand and kids, whose hands and face are decorated with the leftovers of sugary treats wearing wide grins and accompanied by worn-out parents. We go on to stroll the nearby stores of Acland Street, passing cake shops with windows full of tempting treats, so many I had a hard time deciding what to buy and went on Eva’s brother’s recommendation of a Brandy Snap.
I stop for a meat pie – a delicacy I immediately fell in love with. I had never had anything quite like it in the states (but have thankfully located a place in Portland and in Seattle so I can still have a treat now and again). A flaky crust with a creamy stuffing of meats, cheese, onions and roux, topped with “sauce” (ketchup in the US). We continue on down the sidewalk, passing open air bars and restaurants, funky store exteriors and even a backpacker’s hostel, labeled the Ritz.
As we head for the beach, we pass a combined community garden and art studios, just behind the amusement park, where artists have decorated the individual gardens with both fresh and recycled art. The art was whimsical and practical and ideas swirled in my head for my own garden at home. As Australia is just heading into their autumn, there were still tomatoes on the vines and scarecrows still worked hard to keep the birds away. The mosaic art that decorated the walls of the studios, the sidewalks and plant containers danced light in the air while a sign warned to cover the sandbox at night.
We head down the boardwalk towards the bay and a walk down the St. Kilda pier. Along the way, we are treated to the sights of jellies and octopi, starfish and shells in the clear water to the side of the pier. Two black swans are sunning in the grass and a multitude of seabirds fly overhead, before landing on the pier. At the end of the pier, is the St. Kilda kiosk where we finally stop for a much needed break, before heading back to dinner.
We have dinner at Soul Mama’s, a vegetarian restaurant where you are handed a bowl of rice of your choice (jasmine, basmati, white and brown, if I recall correctly) and then pick three entrees to go on top of your rice. Delicious! But so much to eat, I could not finish it all. A bean salad, a curried pumpkin dish and some pumpkin seed balls. We serve ourselves our water here, unlike the US and it does not come with ice, but is quenching all the same.
As the sun began to set, we wandered along the beach towards Steve and Pam’s car, for a last cup of coffee at Pam’s house. The beautiful sunset is our parting treat as we head back into the city.
We settle around the patio to sit and chat, when I realize that I have come to the attention of the local mosquito population and they are certainly enjoying the rare blood of a US visitor. I dash inside, but too late realize I have been “tasted” at least fifteen times by these hungry bugs, and the bites itch just as much here as in the states. As we leave and say our goodbyes, I look to the sky and the unfamiliar constellations above me and realize I am so very far from home. Yet, in my heart, I feel instantly at home in this wonderful country.
We board the train at Croyden station after buying a ticket that will cover all of our transportation for the day for $5.00 and head for Melbourne. I watch the passing scenery and marvel at how alike and yet, how different it looks from the US West Coast. There are tall, skinny Mary Poppins-like chimneys that would never pass earthquake code here and every one of them has character; alike and yet different in contrast to the ticky-tacky subdivision I live in, where all things are alike. Old facades speak of history past in older areas of town, yet downtown is an eclectic mix of sleak, newer buildings mixed in with historical buildings.
And everywhere there is graffiti. I am puzzled at first as I did not think Australia had the gang issues we have. And they don’t. The graffiti, I am told, is down by young people expressing themselves. It is graphic and beautiful and covers the walls and fences that border the train tracks. Eva takes me to an entire alley of graffiti across from the arts center and I could have spent a day taking photos of the graphic art painted across the building faces. Some of it disturbing in intensity, but amazing art, all the same.
After walking a bit to visit the area near the cathedral and arts complex, we board a riverboat on the Yarra River, to take a cruise through Melbourne. Our guide is from Ireland and narrates our journey along the river. There are numerous bridges across the river, connecting the city, much as there is in Portland. However, some bridges are old and staid and some are new and funky. There is a metal bridge with bands around it that are meant to look like an eel being caught in a cage and another with fun metal figures decorating the span.
The bridge above has pillars that are five feet higher than the highest bridge in Sydney. The pillars are detached from the bridge and serve no other purpose other than being higher than those in Sydney, according to the guide and it is apparent these two beautiful cities have a bit of a rivalry!
We pass a restaurant that serves people, cats and dogs that at one time was a public toilet in the richest part of town and public art that cost a fortune but look simply basic such as a row of 4 by 4 posts in a curving path through the grass, canted at different levels call “the falling down fence.” I learn that life preservers anre “life rings” and that when you cheer for your team, you “barrack” and that “routing” is another word for sex. Everything we see is so clean. We pass tugs, container loaders, ocean-going ships and the amazing architecture of the city. It’s almost too much to take in.
Then on to the 747 double decker. There is less leg room in couch on these huge planes than on the smaller planes that ply the skies of America. Thankfully I am short enough to fit behind the seat in front of me. I gather my blindfold and cover, put away the baggage and settle in for a long nap...with a flight time of 14 hours, and not much ability to move around, napping will pass the time more quickly. I am amazed to be fed three times on the flight...it's been awhile since I have had much more than the peanuts and pretzels on Southwest. And the food was good. Between sleep, a good book and a little journaling, the trip passed quickly and before I knew it, I was landing in Sydney, Australia. Looking out the window, I see quaint homes, red tiled roofs and gum trees everywhere and for a moment, I think I have flown to San Diego, CA instead. But then you see the beautiful bay and meandering river and the traffic on the wrong side of the road, and you know you have reached Oz...an hour late.....
Upon landing in Melbourne, I experience Australian customs. We get in line (queue up, they say) and wait to check through the initial stage of customs with our declaration slips. Large black labs with chocolate eyes sniff gently at bags and people alike for illegal drugs. Then off to pick up our check in luggage. Luggage carts are free here, unlike Portland where they are $4. Since I have almost 150 lbs. of luggage, this is a blessing. Then on to the next line, where we are told to put our handbags on the floor next to our luggage, where they are thoroughly inspected by cute little beagle dogs, to ensure no spare fruit, nut, vegetable or mineral slips through. Finally through the final passport check, I exit under the sign, "Way Out" to find my hostess, Eva. And there she is waving at me and off we go to her home in the hills.
As we chat and get to know each other, we realize we have much in common. Single, working girls with a mutual love for art, how could we not get along!!! After dropping off the luggage, I am determined to remain awake until proper bedtime to overcome my jet lag quickly. We head for the Dandenongs to have a look at the view from the top. More hills than mountains when compared with the Cascades, we stop at the top at the Lookout and see a view of distant, downtown Melbourne. The air is alive with strange bird sounds, the astringent fragrance of eucalyptus tree and a multitude of exotic flowers. After enjoying the view, we are off to a nearby picnic area, where I see black cockatoos, crimson rosellas and a kookaburra laughing at me from a distant tree. And as we leave to go home, we turn the corner to see a small wallaby sitting the the road. Who could ask for more on the first day?
I feel at home here. There are major differences, such as the wrong way driving (to us), sensible signs we could use such as "way out" instead of exit, "aged" signs to caution driver to slow for pedestrians near retirement homes, "give way", instead of yield and "take away" instead of take out food. But the people are friendly, the culture relaxed and common sense has a place here.
We slowly make it back down the mountain, where we stop for a Souvlaki at a local eatery, to take home and savor. After 20 hours of travel and the exhilarating trip up the mountain, it is finally time for bed.