Week 2

Ahh, the second week. I suppose I hadn’t been here a full week yet, but the start of the second calendar week would suffice. As part of my campaign of ‘not-being-a-burden-on-the-relatives’ I found my way to a nearby grocery store to pick up some provisions for myself and replenish the food I had already eaten. I hadn’t realized it, but there’s definitely a standardized format to Canadian grocery stores. When I would walk into a grocery store in Canada I always had somewhat of an idea where I needed to go, regardless of the store. I don’t think I realized how heavily I relied on this subconscious directing. As I walked into Coles (chain grocery store) I had the unfamiliar feeling of truly not having any idea where anything might be. No matter, this gave me the opportunity to roam the aisles and see what was available. Everything I was used to of course, but all in very unfamiliar packaging and made by companies I had never heard of. I did manage to find some good ol’ Staggs chili for $4 a can. Cereals, even something simple like Corn Flakes, was $6-7 for a small box.

I’ll make a slight pause here. I’m certainly coming across as very “Northamericacentric” with my incessant bitching about the price of everything and I’m sure other countries are far worse. But I *am* from North America, and *am* used to expecting bargain basement pricing on all the products I’m used to, and the price of goods elsewhere is of absolutely no concern to me because I’m *here*, not *there*. Besides, I’m a travelling student, so save me the comments on how it’s really not *that* bad. I know it’s not, that’s not the point…

To resume – I collected a few more items and proceeded to the check-out. I’ve become acutely aware that I sound extremely different than everyone around me and that everyone who hears me open my mouth knows that. I could tell my simple “hey” to the cashier betrayed my foreign origin as I got curious looks from those around me. It’s not that I’m embarrassed by the way I sound, quite the opposite. It’s more a heightened sense of feeling different – not used to that. Not a bad feeling, just novel.

Later in the day I walked to the Melbourne Zoo. I had discovered the zoo the past weekend during one of my exploratory walks around the neighbourhood. I had managed to waste away a good portion of the afternoon entranced with more BlackBerry poker and didn’t make it until 3:30 in the afternoon. Plenty of time I thought. Wrong! Apparently the administration saw no need to keep the zoo open past 5:00. I couldn’t figure out why this was. I appreciate that in the evening it starts to get dark, but why not stay open until at least 6:00? I was likely the only one complaining, however, as most people had come at more reasonable hours. I briefly contemplated returning the following day but I didn’t like the idea of having to walk all the way out here again. No, I thought, I’d rather not get my money’s worth than have to walk another 15 minutes to get out here again.

After paying I briefly stopped to examine the map. I had an hour and a half to see the entire zoo – something most families likely spent an entire day doing. In my mind I axed 50% of the exhibits that I really couldn’t have cared less to see anyway. This was going to work out well actually. Going to the zoo is always such an ordeal. One always ends up planning an entire day around the damn place. The packing or buying of lunches is involved; debates are had over whether to bring water, sweaters, umbrellas and snacks and what about sun-screen? My god, we could get burned walking around for 8 hours. After everything you leave bloody exhausted from so much slow walking and resolved not to return for many years. Did it have to be so? Was there no other way? There certainly was – arrive less than two hours before close and chose your exhibits carefully. Truth be told, I really never have any interest in seeing half the animals at the zoo. Sure, sure, every animal has its place and they’re all equally important and special in their own way bla bla bla… I want to see an elephant, some monkeys, some cute water animals, maybe some neat birds, a lion or tiger and maybe a giraffe. That’s it. I don’t give a damn about the water buffalo or porcupines, skunks and raccoons and all those other non-exotic animals. Why do we always have to see them when we go to the zoo then? All I knew was that it was just me and I could do whatever the hell I wanted this time – this was great!

I perused around some of the exhibits, slowly making my way to the Australia section. I suppose the Australia section was just about as interesting for the locals as the Americas section was for me back home. I never really understood why we bothered with exhibits on horses and deer and such, but I suppose it should have been obvious: tourists! It was of course just my luck that basically none of the animals in the Australia exhibit were even visible, let alone active and moving. I found a few lazy kangaroos, napping on their sides and an aggressive looking emu. No Koalas, no Wallabies, no Echidnas, no Didgeridoos or whatever other weird names the animals had… nothing. Bitter, I walked through the Australian bird aviary. At least the birds were still active. It was neat to have different types of parrots flying around you and I learned that Australia has a million different types of doves and pigeons. Now, some of these pigeons were actually fairly pretty, but I couldn’t get over them still being damn pigeons. They all still made that weird head movement when they walked and they all had those beatty little eyes that look at you ever so untrustingly. Somewhat disappointed, I left the zoo. It wasn’t a total failure; I had seen some cool animals, but not the animals I really had wanted to see. I dreaded the walk home. My hour and a half had been tiring enough, good thing I hadn’t decided to come earlier.

The following day I woke up to an itchy, runny nose and itchy, red eyes. This had been happening fairly frequently. I usually don’t suffer from bad allergies, but there was definitely something in the Australian air that was testing my system. It seemed to go away after I got up though, perhaps something in the bedding… I was sure Claritin had been packed somewhere but couldn’t find it. Never one to waste precious time looking for things when I could just go out and buy a replacement, I made a note to find the nearest pharmacy (the Aussies call them Chemists. To me, this sounds like someone you’d find in the dark ages: a “chemist”. Australians and they’re weird terms… I’d imagine it’s of English origin as so much of their language is)

Later in the week I made my way downtown and hit up some of the ‘not-as-touristy’ attractions. I knew enough to know which trams to get on, but knowing when to get off was an altogether different affair. I was hoping to be able to read the street signs as we passed and judge things that way. I was caught a bit off guard when the tram seemed to turn into a train and hurried down this express track leading from the downtown area to the southern suburbs. The tram would stop every now and then at a station but there were no indications of where the hell you were unless you knew what the station names meant. After going much too far, I got off and tried to re-orient myself. I was definitely not where I was supposed to be. I pointed out where I figured I must be on my map and walked around, hoping to see a street name so I could get back on track. I quickly figured out where I was – far off course, but I had a direction at least.

I made my way to a memorial built to commemorate Australia’s war-veterans. I found a theatre on the inside and, seeing it empty and a film about to begin, I sat down. A counter counted down the last minute until the film began. Much to my chagrin, a horde of school children were ushered in around me, just in time for the movie, boxing me in. The movie was not at all informative and was clearly just a lead-up to the ‘educational part’ which was human-directed and obviously tailored for school groups. Not exactly sure how I managed to get myself into this situation, I promptly got up and left before things got into full swing. All eyes were on me as I hurried out of the theatre. Outside, I checked my map and directed myself towards Melbourne’s Botanical Gardens.

The Gardens were just that: gardens. Being Australia though, the variation of plant-life found inside was quite amazing. I can’t say I’m much of a gardener and don’t really have an appreciation for plants, but it was if nothing else enjoyable to walk around and see such variation of flora that Australia was able to sustain. I spotted a bunch of black swans, quite numerous in Australia. Actually, Gail explained to me that Australia only has the black swan. White swans are all imported from elsewhere. By this time I was starting to get hungry and decided to leave. The mild concern of running into a horrible spider amidst all the plants further expedited my departure.

I didn’t have any money and needed to find a bank. My bank, ANZ, had finally sent me my bank card the previous day. They had also sent me another letter, advising me that another envelop with my PIN was only 3-5 business days away. How useless, a bank card with no PIN to use it – thanks ANZ. I had called up and was advised that I could make my way to a branch and manually set a PIN there. Fine. I emerged from the gardens again unsure of where I was. My legs were tired and I didn’t feel like doing much more walking but was left with little choice as I realized I was quite a ways away from the tram line I needed to get to the suburb of St. Kilda – the touristy area wherein lies Melbourne’s beaches and where I would find some food and rest.

Melbourne is not known for its beaches. There are of course beaches nearby, but nothing great right in the city as you might find in Sydney. Still, the beaches Melbourne does have are, in typical Australian fashion, very nice. The sand was beautiful but there was a strong southerly wind coming from the bay which made it quite cold. In the south obviously lies Antarctica and when the wind blows from that direction it brings with it some chilly air. Gail had described St. Kilda as a seedy suburb replete with tourists, students, bars, drugs and prostitution. Maybe it was the time of day but I couldn’t really see any of that.

I found an ANZ branch, took a ticket and waited. I spotted some clear, green candies in a box next to me. For some reason I was quite sure these candies must have been sour apple. I’m not sure why I thought a bank would stock sour apple flavoured candies, but I did. It was of course some gross mint flavor. Another disappointment. I would have even preferred lime or something. No dice. I spit out the candy and re-wrapped it. I was contemplating returning it to the box from whence it came when my number was called up. I explained to the teller what I wanted to do and within a few minutes I was on the hunt for food.

I ate and caught a tram back downtown where I was to meet Gail. We went and saw a movie – a very different experience from the “go big or go home” setups we have in North America. The theatre was quite small with an equally small screen, something Gail said was pretty typical in Australia. Gail said that here, you could pay a bit more and upgrade yourself to a ‘gold’ area where you had a private booth with large chairs, more leg-room and a table to put your things on. Afterwards, we had supper at an obscure restaurant, down some alleyway and up a set of stairs from a poorly marked door. This place had apparently been here for over 30 years and I had a hard time imaging that given the awful location. Melbourne is a city of side-streets and alleyways, however. In most cities I wouldn’t imagine venturing down an alley, but in Melbourne that is exactly where all the cool restaurants, bars, pubs and clubs were.

We took the tram home and I was kind of surprised to see Melbourne transit agents board the tram at one of the stops. They carried very official looking badges and went passenger to passenger, asking to see your ticket to verify you had stamped it. I wasn’t sure why they were still out at this hour (it was around 10:00 p.m. by this time) but here they were. I noticed one of the agents writing up a fellow who clearly had tried to get away with a free ride. Bummer! Exhausted again, I slept as soon as we got home. The following day we were off to Paynesville – a city 3-hours east of Melbourne where Gail lives when business didn’t bring her to the city.