Rizz goes round the world

No clever title for this one: Oz, Chapter 2 (Melbourne, St. Kilda, Adelaide, Aus)

My first overnight bus trip during this journey was not a happy one. I was sad to leave Sydney, for one. Also, my Queenie cold was still with me, and a tickle in my throat combined with the air blasting from the AC guaranteed a sleepless night. As I pulled into Melbourne, it was cold and drizzling. The rain fell more quickly upon me as I trudged down the street, one backpack on the front, one on the back, and a shoulder bag slung on top of that. I studied my Lonely Planet and realized I was on the complete opposite side of the city as I thought I had been and my journey to St. Kilda, a beach suburb of Melbourne where I was staying, would be more of a pain in the ass than I had anticipated. Sighing, I found the closest tram stop and negotiated my way to the ticket purchase machine. After studying the machine for a bit, puzzled, I finally purchased a 2-hour ticket, which I ended up not needing. They never check for tickets on the tram. I still bought a ticket everytime, though--not about to play with my karma. Everytime I have, it's wreaked havoc. You'll see an example of this soon.

Anyway, after changing trams, I finally made it into St. Kilda, and then to base Backpackers, my home for the next few days. I dropped off my bags and went in search of food, coffee, and a movie theater. I was desperately yearning for a nap, but I know the ways of travel: best to stick to a normal schedule or everything gets thrown out of whack. So instead I treated myself to a marvelous breakfast at a great cafe. St. Kilda proved full of great cafes, and I was thankful for that. Next was the movie theater. It had been a long night and it was raining, so I felt I deserved a low-key day. The movie proved exorbitantly expensive, though, and the sun came out, so I spent the afternoon wandering through little St. Kilda instead, and checking out a few of those cafes.

I had come to St. Kilda on the 25th to meet up with Pete, a friend from the Kiwi Experience: he'd be there for a night before flying out to Bali. As I sat behind a computer at base, wondering how I'd find him, in he walked. Problem solved. We went to grab some dinner and beer. We took a while eating and drinking and catching up, and the shift changed as we sat there. They didn't realize we hadn't paid... We sat for a bit, arguing over whether to leave or not. Our light pockets won, and I made my biggest karmic mistake thus far by walking out. I was paid back big time though: the next night my whole wallet was stolen, complete with 200 bucks, my ATM card, my credit card, my license, a phone card, my backpacker's card, my "youth" id card, my teacher id card... I think I paid back more than my share. Anyway, I resolve to never play games with my karma ever again.

But, I digress. Before the whole wallet debaucle went down, I spent the night hanging out with Pete and 2 friends he'd made a few months ago in Fiji (there's travel for you... We also worked it out that Pete and Ric had been on Beachcomber Island in Fiji the same night I'd been there. If I hadn't had a migraine, I probably would have met them then).

The next day (Pete left super early to Bali that morning) I fatefully spent the morning at the travel desk at base Backpackers. Fatefully? Well, I had stopped by the desk just to ask about prices on flights to Alice Springs when Paul, the agent, started telling me about this tour through the Outback called Heading Bush. I'm not normally swayed by salesmen, but this tour really did sound like exactly what I was looking for: a gritty, real, rough trip through the Outback, complete with bush camps and swags every night. The tour was pricey, but hey, what else am I here for? The money for this trip was hard-earned, and I deserve to spend it on what calls to me, and this trip was calling me. So I booked it. It was the best decison I've made to date.

After planning my future travels, I made my way into Melbourne proper. First I stopped by the Old Melbourne Gaol, an old prison that once housed Ned Kelly, a famous Australian outlaw of the same vein as our Western outlaw heroes. Then it through downtown and down to the river, where I happily stumbled upon an amazing (and free!) outdoor photographic exhibit by a man named Yann Arthus Bertrand. The exhibit was called Earth From Above, and Yann combined some magical aerial pictures of the Earth with commentary on its condition. It really spoke to me, and you should check it out here. That's his homepage, but navigate through until you find the exhibit. The images are wonderful and inspiring, and the reflections they provoke are strong. See for yourself, although you may not have the same experience I had, on the banks of a river near Federation Square in Melbourne, Australia. ;)

After spending time perusing the exhibit, I walked along the river, sitting for a bit to ponder as rowing crews made their way down the river, their coaches shouting through megaphones from bikes on the banks, and then through the highly modern and funky Federation Square. Then it was back to St. Kilda. I stopped at the ATM and then, on the way up to my room, the hostel bar, to say hello to some people I'd met the night before. I should have just gone to bed. My stupid decision of not dropping my important, non-necessary stuff back in my room, as I normally do, met dreadful consequences. I started chatting with a group of 3 local boys, who seemed nice enough. I was glad to talk to some Australians instead on your typical British backpacker. I had my bag firmly attached to my shoulder all night, with my wallet securely inside a zippered compartment. I put down my bag for literally 5 minutes, at which point one of the local boys dragged me out onto the dance floor. I assume that when he did that, one of his friends went into my bag and grabbed my wallet. Bastards.

Without realizing what had happened, I went up to bed fairly early, as I had a tour on the Great Ocean Road at 7:30 the next morning. When I woke up, I quickly organized my stuff and went through the list. Camera? Check. iPod? Check. Journal? Check. Wallet? Wallet? WALLET!!!??? Oh no. This was bad. I felt my blood rush to my head as I made my way downstairs. Maybe I left it at the bar? No, I hadn't even taken it from my wallet: it was free champagne for the ladies night last night. Well, maybe it fell out? When I went to inquire at the reception desk, the girl just smiled and said, as cheerfully as though she were informing me I'd won a free night at the hostel, that it was probably stolen. They'd had about 12 wallets stolen from the bar in the past few weeks. Thanks for that, love.

So, my bus down to the Great Ocean Road was leaving in 15 minutes, some random strangers had 2 of my credit cards, and I had not an Australian cent to my name. No way I was skipping out on the tour: I'd paid a pretty penny for it! Thank god the parents are so willing to help--they took care of the cards and arranged to wire me money, and off I went down the Great Ocean Road.

The Great Ocean Road was built to resemble the highway in California that runs down the coast. Route One is it? It was beautiful, but I must admit my road trip through New Zealand ruined it a bit for me. The Great Ocean Road is probably equally beautiful as the eastern coastline of New Zealand, but nothing can beat the isolation of NZ. After driving along the winding coast, passing through the 3 sections of the Road--the surfing section, the green section, and the shipwreck section, if I call correctly-- we made our way to the Twelve Apostles. The Twelve Apostles are sandstone (or is it limestone...?) formations shaped by time and the sea. Pancake rocks in New Zealand were again more remarkable in my mind, but my experience at the Twelve Apostles was heightened by the fact that I got to experience precisely what those piles of stone have for years. The weather at this point had turned quite menacing, and as I sat with the wind whipping sand against my skin and nearly blowing me away into the frantic sea, I understood first-hand the force of nature that has come to create such beautiful works of art.

By the way, there are now only 11 Apostles. One crumbled into the ocean last year.

Afterwards we made our way to London Bridge, a naturally formed sandstone bridge. London Bridge used to have 2 arches. Years ago, the arch connecting the structure to land crumbled into the sea. During the day. While people were walking out on it. After someone noticed a bit of the rock crumbling, everyone made a dash for solid ground. Most made it back to land, except for 2 unlucky souls. The others drove into town to notify someone to rescue the stranded couple. Unfortunately it took a little while; apparently, a few people have made the very clever joke in the past that "London Bridge is falling down!!", and it gave the whole situation a bit of a boy who cried wolf feel. Finally, the locals realized it wasn't all a joke, and called the proper authorities. And the press. As the press helicopters circled the now-island, zooming in on the alarmed faces of the stranded couple, people watching at home noticed something odd. Every time a camera zoomed in, the couple was hiding their faces. Apparently the couple was married. Just not to each other. They'd had the grand idea of skipping off from work and taking off to the Great Ocean Road, a fair distance from home, where surely no one would be around who recognized them... Don't you love karma?

During my tour, lunch was fortunately included. Dinner, however, was not. Mind you I had not a cent to my name. Fortunately, I had befriended a wonderful Dutch girl named Sandra, and she was kind enough to buy me dinner. :) Ah, the kindness of strangers who become new friends.

I got back to St. Kilda and took a lovely 10 PM stroll down to the police station to file a report, then it was off to bed. The next morning, after a HUGE test of wills and a few tears, all thanks to the LOVELY workers at the St. Kilda post office, I finally procured some money from Western Union, paid for my flight (that was leaving the next day) and my Heading Bush tour, and got the hell out of St. Kilda to stay at the YHA in Melbourne proper.

Spent the morning at the markets on Victoria street, wished I had someone to share a picnic lunch with, and then headed to the museum, where I was too uninspired and tired to put effort into the whole museum thing, so I went to the IMAX instead. And I'm glad I did. Watched a film called Mystic India, a dramatization of a historical story about a young 11-year-old boy who set off walking across India as the youngest swami ever. It combined elements of history and culture, and scenes of the country, its people, its temples and its festivals. Anyway, the film helped me dust off some of my travel weariness and I became newly excited to be out in the world again. At least I had shoes, unlike the boy in the film.

That night I met up with Sandra and we together reminded ourselves of how amazing spontaneity is, after wandering into a bar called Transit and meeting some blokes who renewed my faith in Melbourne locals. We had a grand time playing a bit of a game, for lack of a better label, the boys called Shake-a-Face. Relax your face completely, shake it, then take a picture. The results are riotous. We proceeded to coax tables of strangers to join in on our fun, and as a result, I have lovely photos of random strangers looking like a bunch of weirdos to remember the night by.

Came back home at 2 AM. It was daylight savings time. So it was really 3 AM. My flight to Adelaide was 7 AM. Meaning I had to catch the 5:30 AM shuttle to the airport. Lovely.

No bother, I figured I'd sleep the day away in Adelaide--I'd been told there's not much there. Me being me, though, I of course couldn't do that. I spent the majority of the day in Glenelg, a beach suburb that I would've had no idea existed if I hadn't crossed paths for 5 minutes on the tram in Melbourne with an American girl who'd just spent a week there. I love travelling. I dipped my toes in the Southern Ocean and had an ice cream. Then I headed over to the Wine Centre of Australia, where I enjoyed a glass of shiraz out on the patio, located within the gates of the botanical gardens. Life was good. I had no inkling of how much better still it would soon get. As I had some dinner and went to bed that night, I felt a bit lonely, hoping my Outback adventure, starting the next day, would be fun and that I'd meet nice people. I had no idea what I was in for: an experience that would change my life and friends that will stay a part of me for all the days to come.

posted by La Rizz @ 7:23 PM