Australia, Part 2

Breanna and I spent the last week of our trip in Melbourne. I must say that I'm really proud of us for spending exactly the appropriate amount of time at each destination. There was so much to do in Melbourne that I never regretted our decision to spend a week there. Melbourne was one of the few cities that I would actually consider living in that is not Philadelphia. Philadelphia, besides being the world's best city, also happens to have a majority of the people I love in it, though, so it always wins out.

Somehow we managed to lead a charmed life while in Melbourne. 

The first night that we arrived, we successfully navigated the short walk from our hostel to the "hen party" in Chinatown. That's British Commonwealth for "bachelorette party." (My more un-gentle readers are hereby invited to stop for a minute and consider what the male equivalent would be. Hint: I don't mean "Rooster Parties.") We met some old friends of the bride, our college friend Stephanie, and finally got to meet her charming twin sister, Petra, the leader of the hens. After a delicious Chinese dinner, we headed to a hip bowling alley that served drinks in mason jars for some hip bowling. Here's my confession (and my confusion) kids: As much as I complain about hipsters, I have really missed them during my time in Asia. The bowling alley reminded me of North Bowl in No Libs, where I went on a great date once before I became a Malaysian school marm. After that, we did some bar hopping. One of the hens got us into a super hip bar called Fad Bar in a little alley in Melbourne. Now there's something I love about Melbourne. Whereas Philly has creepy alleys filled with dumpsters and certain doom, Melbourne is full of charming little "laneways" that reveal nice bars and restaurants and galleries. Something about laneways really appeals to my sense of discovery and adventure, as poor Breanna can attest. I dragged her around looking for them and looking at them for quite a while in the cold later in our trip. Anyway, the bar  played oldies and John Farnham, whom Steph described as the Australian Bruce Springsteen, only better. There was dancing and hard cider--yes, I said it! now I'll never get a job!--and I didn't have to wear a baju kurung and there was no bad karaoke at all. After that, we went to a grungy punk bar in a graffiti (ahem, "street art") filled alley for a little while, then Breanna and I called it a night. I would definitely count my first bachelorette party experience as a success, thanks to some awesome Australians and, of course, Breanna. 

A laneway. Philadelphians may be asking themselves, "Where is the trash? What of the armed highwaymen?" I wondered the same, yet neither appeared. 

Laneway with some nice graffiti. Look, readers, I don't know when you're supposed to say graffiti vs. street art.  I would always just say graffiti. Is it street art if you think it's nicer? Or (getting edgy now, get ready) do people say "street art" when the artiste is some sort of hipster who's not from the neighborhood and graffiti if it's some young kid tagging someplace down the block from him? I say, potato potato and let's not get snobby about it. 

We dedicated our next day to walking around and exploring Melbourne. The exploration started at the Queen Victoria Market, Melbourne's indoor/outdoor answer to Philly's Reading Terminal Market. We waited in line for the most heavenly jelly-donuts (see below) and I had a sausage sandwich with cheese and onions that is inexplicably called a kransky. Hold the phone, readers: IT WAS ON A DECENT ROLL. The roll had backbone, attitude, something to say. It wasn't any old flimsy hot dog roll or soggy piece of whinging white sandwich bread. No, it was an honest-to-goodness Italian roll, and I say God bless it. 

You can tell from the long line (it continues way outside the frame) and the excellent van decor that the $1 donuts were a win.

Later in our walking around day, we checked out Federation Square and took a walk along the Yarra River. 

Federation Square

You've got some crazy public art, Melbourne. Keep at it. 

That night, after a penny-pinching grocery store dinner, we decided to check out some more Melbourne night life. Breanna's resourceful googling ("Melbourne lesbian") turned up a lesbian event at a bar with a heated outdoor balcony. Of course, we went. The bar was packed, and Breanna smiled the whole night like the cat that ate the canary. We both agreed that we had never seen so many lesbians in one place. I increased my lifetime count of "times being mistaken for a lesbian" by a whole lot and had a lot of fun dancing (you can dance a lot less self-consciously when you're not around any possible romantic prospects, as everyone knows) and people watching.

We ended the  night with a stop for some late-night meat pie (in Bre's case, vegetarian spinach pie), a frequent snack for us on our trip. Important question that we kept asking ourselves: Why are meat pies not popular, nay, practically nonexistent, in the US? Steph and Petra, who moved from Australia to the US when they were preteens, both lamented this apparent casualty of the American Revolution. My theory is that if you don't keep the queen on your coins, they take away your meat pies. 

At the end of our trip, we spent another day and a half doing some walking around in Melbourne. I might as well mention it now and save our outings outside the city for another verbose post. One day, Breanna and I followed a walking tour route that our hostel provided. Of course, it included lots of lovely laneways. Melbourne is just chock a block with cheap bookstores, yet another reason for me to love it, and it makes good use of its waterfront space. (I'm looking at you again, Philly, you big lovable failure.) We also took the tram out to the alternative beachfront suburb of St. Kilda for some beachside reading and coffee shop sitting. We had tea and scones at the lovely botanical gardens in Melbourne. I got to see the cottage where Captain Cook grew up, which has been transplanted to a public garden in Melbourne. Weird, right? It's awfully tiny, which inspired lots of thoughts about how you never know what direction your life will take based on where it starts out. (Yes, yes, I'm a terrible history major and person for still having some real admiration for explorers--do I have to put explorers in scare quotes? do I have to put everything in scare quotes?--despite the horrid consequences of their explorations.) Oh, and I went to a really nice art museum and saw an exhibit about Australian impressionists in France. 

Oh oh, and we spent an afternoon thrifting with the bride and groom and their sisters on Chapel Street. I was giddily happy to be doing normal activities like thrift shopping and going to Target and stopping for Mexican food and later $4 pizza at this intriguingly-decorated bar. I couldn't get over the fun Western things I was getting to do, all the while enjoying pleasant, cool weather. No one stared at me on the street, because I didn't stick out like a sore thumb. I had a frozen margarita with no fear of running into a student. I wore a sweater and a jacket, and not because I was trying to dress as modestly as humanly possible so no one would whistle at me on the street or follow me on their motorbike. (Hint: It doesn't matter how you dress, expect to encounter this behavior in Malaysia.) Oh, and the Salvation Army in Melbourne looks like a gosh darn upscale boutique. What is this wonderland? (Of course, the prices are higher, too, but still.) There were so many interesting, offbeat, pleasant neighborhoods in Melbourne. I thought they would never end, and there are many more we didn't get to see. Sigh. 

Anyway, I'm rambling. One more thing: Melbourne has excellent infrastructure for tourists. Both Sydney and Melbourne have well-staffed and well-organized public transit systems that put Philly to shame. Any time we had a question in a train station, it was easy to find a helpful transit employee who was ready to answer our question. Try doing that in Philly. Melbourne also has a free shuttle bus and a free tram for tourists, with extensive routes, frequent running times, and helpful announcements of Melbourne history and attractions near each stop. (Ok, Philly kind of has that, too, in that we have the Phlash bus, but that costs money and doesn't go as many places.) I am ashamed to think about what a first-time visitor to Philly would think while trying to navigate our shabby, understaffed, underdeveloped, and downright bewildering public transit system. For shame, Philadelphia, get your act together. (I know, I know, if Philly was a wealthier city with higher taxes like Melbourne, blah blah.) If you ever want to read this blog again, please stay tuned for some great pictures from the Great Ocean Road and an animal sanctuary as well as a description of an extremely touching wedding.