So, on Wednesday my main job was to book the Dolphin swim. Ho yes. On the fourth of March, Geoff Wendy and I shall get on a boat at the Mornington Peninsula, and shall go out to sea. Wendy will stay on the boat, but Geoff and I shall don some wetsuits, and go swimming with dolphins!
That's the plan at any rate. There's a 98% chance that they shall turn up, but being wild creatures, there's that little 2% that means they wont. And with my bad luck combined with Geoff's apparent bad luck, it could very well be the case that they won't. So, watch this space.
After that was booked, I didn't have much to do during the day. I carried on reading John Marsden's series of books on Wendy's kindle. Kindles are called irivers in Australia. Little bit of trivia for you.
The day before I started the second book, and Wednesday I started the third book. It's pretty tense stuff, and when Wendy got home from work and we took the dogs on a walk around the Retarding Basin (lol) I had a nice chat about it, going something like this...
Me - "This place is nice. Very lush. My friend Maddy would love it here."
Wendy - "Oh, is she a friend of yours?"
Me - "Yeah, we're very close. She loves nature and green stuff, so this place would be great. Hmm, how can I describe her? Oh! You know Robyn, from the Tomorrow series? She's like her. Petite but fiery, and is in touch with religion and the Earth. Just like Robyn."
Wendy - "Ah then she must be lovely. What book are you on now?"
Me - "The third one."
Wendy - "Oh, I cried at that book."
Me - "Oh God, someone dies don't they..."
I'm so sorry Maddy, I had no idea. At the end of the third book, Robyn sacrifices herself to save her friends. She blows herself up. So imagine for me reading that, when I'd knowingly compared the two of you. I felt awful.
Well anyway, Wendy and I went for a lovely long walk around a small lake with the dogs, just chatting and chilling and generally hanging out, which was great. It was a very scenic route, and very beautiful.
When we got back, Geoff was home from work, and we headed to Knox again, to a restaurant called Hog's Breath. Had a nice meal of parmagiana, though it wasn't as tasty as the one I'd had in the pub in Newstead. There were some very noisy guys in the corner of the room, and played a game of who could shout 'penis' the loudest. Then came a round of happy birthday, with one guy screaming at an astonishingly loud scream after every line. We were pretty disgusted that they didn't get kicked out, and filled out a 'Did we impress you?' card with a great fat NO.
I did add afterwards that the waitress had been lovely, because I didn't want her to feel bad. Not too sure what Geoff thought of that.
Thursday was another slow day. I read the fourth Tomorrow book, Darkness be my friend, but compared to the third it felt pretty slow, like a filler episode or a TV show. Nevertheless, it kept me occupied during the day and I did enjoy it. Wendy's iriver is a glorious thing. Makes me think about buying one myself - then at least I wouldn't have to cart around heavy paperbacks with me. But I'd only want it for travelling, like I'm doing now. I relish the feel of a page between my fingers, and the smell of a real book far too much to forgo them forever.
I then started the fifth one, Burning for revenge, but didn't get too far because the battery died. I have found the major flaw in irivers and kindles. Real books don't need batteries. So I entertained myself by writing some of this blog until Wendy got home.
Wendy and Geoff went on a long walk at the Retarding Basin (hee), and I stayed back so that they could enjoy some quality time. Don't want to impede on their together-time too much. Not that I'd be treated like a third wheel (far from it, actually), but I think couples should be allowed to do couply-things. And since my presence sort of means they don't, I should give them times to themselves.
Anyway, after they got back, we had dinner, and Wendy and I then went to a nearby shopping centre so that I could buy some pumps from K-Mart. A super good value shop, rather like Matalan. We were going to meet Wendy's friend in a bar in the city the next day, and I didn't have any nice shoes with me. So, off to K-mart!
I always like sitting in the passenger seat of someone else's car. If I were driving my own car, and they were in the passenger seat, they may not feel relaxed enough to sing along to the radio. But when they are in control of their own vehicle, they do. And I'm very glad that people do, because I love it when they start singing softly (or loudly) to tunes. You can just sink back into your chair a little and listen to your friends creating a little harmony. And lucky me, because I'm in the car with Wendy quite a bit, so have heard her sing a bit too. And she has a really really lovely singing voice.
So it was a nice ride to K-mart, with Wendy singing along every now and then, and I was treated to it again on the way home after buying my $12 pumps. Lucky me indeed.
Friday was a good day, because I was getting super excited about my Brony meetup the next day. So I was listening to feel-good music to help my happy mood extend for as long as possible, and I stumbled across this little gem on youtube. Don't pass over it just because it has a picture of a pony on it. It's drum-and-bass pure awesomeness. Crank your speakers up and try it out. You'll get an eargasm.
In addition to electro-music, I also got my ukulele out again. Since the iriver was out of fuel, and I forgot to ask where the charger was, I didn't have too many options on Friday. So I tuned up my uke, and figured out some more notes to the Pony theme song, played some You've got the Love, and Axel F. The uke is so much fun, it's a shame we don't see more of them available in the UK.
It turned out that the shoes I bought the day before were too small, despite the fact that I'd tried them on in the shop and they were fine. So on the way to the City, all dressed up nice-like in my 60's jumpsuit, Wendy and I stopped back in K-Mart and swapped the shoes. The shoes I replaced them with are exactly the same size, but they fit. How crazy that in the same shop, the same sized shoe, one pair fits and another doesn't. Describes the world we live in perfectly. Messed up. However, the new pumps were only $8 so I got a $4 refund. Woo!
Anyway, Wendy and I got to the Royal Saxon Hotel in Richmond, where we met her friend Linda and a bunch of her colleagues for drinks. It was a tad awkward because I felt especially young around these 27-50year olds, and as such I didn't say much. Just sipped my drinks quietly but looked interested in what people were saying. If they finished a sentence and had an expectant smile on their face, I'd grin and laugh a little. Otherwise, I'd smile and nod, and then have another sip of drink.
It was awkward when Wendy left to get us drinks, because I don't know Linda, and silence reigned for 90% of the time Wendy was gone. I think I felt like a bit of a tagalong, as Wendy was Linda's friend, and I was 'Wendy's cousin'. I'm extremely proud to be, of course, but it still was a bit of an awkward night.
Seeing as it was also the first 'night out' in Australia that I'd had, I was missing my friends terribly. I kept looking at my phone and wondering what Maddy and Bestie were up to - most probably lectures and the journey to college. Then maybe they were on a break between lectures, or just settling down for the first art session of the day. I was reminiscing about the times when we'd been on nights out, and their absence hit me pretty hard that night.
Eventually, because we'd missed dinner, our hunger made itself known, and we said our goodbye's and found a Domino's. My quiet mood had also been noticed by Wendy (I'd be surprised if anyone missed it), and we chatted about things over pizza. In our chats I discovered that a reason I'd been feeling a bit blue lately was because I was tired of making my own decisions. Since I came to Oz, even though I've not had the pressure of accommodation because I've been generously housed by lovely people, I've been handed lots of decisions.
"What do you want to do? Where would you like to go? Do you want to buy a car? Are you going to get a job?"
They're not questions with enormous amounts of pressure on them, but I just wanted someone to make them for me for a while. Then I could just cruise along doing whatever the other person wanted, and not have to worry about anything.
Well, Wendy gave me a huge big pep talk, and I felt much better. I just have to man up and take things in my stride. Making decisions is a part of life, and one I just have to deal with. And that's all there is to it. Welcome to the real world, Merlin.
On Saturday I had an awesome day planned. I found that there was a Melbourne Brony meetup at the beach, and decided to casually tag along. So I packed myself up a lunch, and Wendy and Geoff drove me to Chelsea.
I trekked towards a large group of people, and to my luck spotted pony tents, so I knew I was in the right place. I'd missed the group photo, but was in time to do the ice-breaker, where we all stood in a circle and said our name, and our favourite pony. There were around twenty-two people there, and if your fave pony was the same as someone else's, they'd give a cheer. I got two cheers - one for my pony, and one for saying 'I'm an English Brony', which was nice get get a 'woo!' for.
No one really remembered peoples' names, from the ice-breaker, but that was okay. If we were talking to someone we'd just ask them again. They're all such a friendly bunch, and being a Brony is just like being part of a community.
First things first though - you can't not go swimming as soon as you get to the beach. So I slapped some sunny on and raced to the water. Some bronies were already swimming, so I just drifted over and joined in their conversations. Got talking to two guys whilst out in the sea,and we pretty much stuck together for the rest of the day. We walked and got chips, then went and chilled with the others for a bit. We observed the start of the sand-castle building competition, in which all of three people competed, and then went swimming again.
I'd say I spent 90% of my time in the water, which was excellent. It was a picture postcard type beach - beautiful stretches of golden sand, water so blue that you could see your feet even when you were out to sea. It was tres cool.
Thinking about the beach, and beachy-type things, I have never seen so many legs until I came to Aus. Literally everyone has their legs out most of the time - I even saw an 80-year old in a bikini when I was in Brissy, which was incredible but very unsettling. I was impressed with that woman's self-confidence. I don't know if I could get my nan in a bikini at the beach. But then again, England really isn't the best place for beaches so that decreases my chances anyway.
Well we had a frisbee in the sea, and to start with about five of us were in a big circle. It was quite windy that day, so if we were throwing it to the right we never had a chance of catching it, which made it fun. We'd race each other to the disc, and take dives to claim our plastic prize. It got even funnerer when the rest of the bronies came and joined in, and there was around twenty or so all fighting for this frisbee.
And then out of nowhere, there appeared another frisbee. When the guy produced it, there were cries of Huzzah! The fun has been doubled! which had me in hysterics. I mean, all along I've known that the brony population is probably 70% guys (proven by the fact that out of twenty-five people, four of us were female) but to see them so happily saying stuff like 'Come on, everypony! Sand-castle building competition!' just gives me an incredulous giggle phase.
Some pool noodles also came about, and guys were having sword fights with them. I nearly got my head walloped by one. I felt the wind rush past my cheek as the guy swung and I was like 'Dude! Dude! Watch where you aim that thing!'.
At one point, me and my new mates went for ice cream. There's a flavour called Rainbow, which was perfect for us. Being the nerds we are, we asked for the Rainbow Dash ice cream, and I also had a scoop of white chocolate. The rainbow flavour is just vanilla dyed different colours, but for some reason tasted better than just your average everyday run-of-the-mill non-pony-related vanilla. Huh.
After much swimming, photos, tanning and fun, five o'clock rolled around and it was time for me to go. I said goodbye to my new friends, and Wendy and Geoff picked me up and took me home. Once there, it was just a quick half-hour pack-your-things, because we then started the two-hour drive to Phillip Island for the night.
Phillip island is a bit of land at the end of a great big bay. On it, there is a beach which wild penguins travel up every night to reach their burrows in the sand dunes, and for a fee you can go and watch them come up from the ocean. I still don't think they should make you pay for a natural occurance such as this, but there we go.
We rocked up at about twenty to eight and got a good spot on the benches in the viewing stand. There were so many tourists there, it was quite surprising. Lots of Asian people, of all ages and sizes. They made up the majority of the audience, I'd say.
As it got darker, the warden person came and did a little speech, saying 'Okay folks, stay in your seats the entire time please so that everyone can see. If you decide to go back up the walkway please do so quickly so you don't disturb other people's views.' And a spiel about the Little Penguins that would be coming up. They'd been going up to that beach for many many years, apparently. Their original species name was Fairy Penguins, but apparently that offended the gay community, so it was changed to Little Penguins. How ridiculous is that? The reason they were called Fairy Penguins is because they're so small, like fairies, not because they went around kissing penguins of the same gender. And by the gay community getting antsy about it, it just proves that they think of themselves as fairies. I had never correlated 'fairy' to 'a gay person' before. Never once have I been speaking to someone that's gay and thought 'Oh my God, what a fairy.'
But now, fairy has forever changed it's connotations. R.I.P little pixies with transluscent wings. You shall be sorely missed.
At one point we saw a seal darting around in the waves, and he was great to watch. Very graceful and elegant as he rolled in the surf. Part of me wondered if he'd figured out that there would be snacks soon. Fast food; a conveyer belt of penguins defenceless on the shoreline. It wouldn't have surprised me if he did work it out for himself - seals are a smart bunch.
But I think he thought he'd missed the show that night, as he was gone long before the penguins came up. But it was lovely to see him whilst he was darting all about.
Then eventually after darkness had descended, small white blobs appeared on the beach. Just a few, huddled in a group, waiting... checking that their paths were safe to get to a lump of rock halfway down the beach. When the coast was clear (haha, coast, on the beach, you get it?), they waited for one brave penguin to take the first step towards freedom... or their beds, in this case.
When one pengy took a tentative step, they all started hurridly waddling to the next spot of safety - the rock formation. Once there, they'd wait and check their safety proceedings again (Okay, fellas, this is it. Once we clear this bit, we're home free. So. Helmets on? Clips fastened? Flippers flexy? Feet webbed? Okay, boys, this is it. Let's make it count!) and they'd dart out in their little group and waddle/run for the hills. It was very cute to watch. Especially when a particularly chubby one took about five minutes to do the last stretch. We'd turn to look at another group for a few minutes, and then when we looked back this chubby-chubs was still going. Bless him. He was my favourite.
But undoubtedly, my favourite part of the evening was Wendy getting irate at the Asian tourists. Because despite the speech about staying in our seats, which was repeated in Chinese, Japanese, Indian, Maltese and 'Whatever language you speak-ese', they all stood up to get a better look. Kids ran down the steps to the front, parents ran down the steps after the kids, and we couldn't see a darned thing.
It started off with a quiet 'Excuse me, could you move please?'. Nothing happened. It then progressed to a louder 'Sorry, could you move?'. Nothing happened. Then came a 'Please, move' with added hand guestures (because everyone speaks Hand). Nothing happened.
I could see bubbles of frustration in Wendy's eyes. Her posture got more rigid, her guestures wider and her words sharper. I knew that this volcano was about to burst.
'You! *points finger* Yeah, you! In the green shirt! MOVE! Get out of the way!'
People eventually started moving, much to my disappointment. I'd never seen Wendy so worked up, and it was just hilarious to watch. Definitely one of the highlights of my trip.
So on Sunday, we drove back home, and from there Wendy and I went into the city. Our destination was the National Gallery, where all the art is. It's an impressive building with fountains outside, and one wall which perpetually has water running down it, like a waterfall.
We sped through the artwork, stopping only to admire a painting of the Greek god Pan, where my inner geek came out I went into a little speech about him. It was a very good painting though, depicting him as a satyr. I love all of the Greek-related stuff, and also stopped to look at some Greek vases like the ones in Disney's Hercules. It was very cool :)
We didn't hang around the paintings too much because we were looking for one in particular. And after twenty minutes of searching and getting lost, we found it. John Constable's The Quarters, which is a painting of a house in Alresford, my village. My nan had asked that I go see it for myself because it was in Melbourne, and I jest that as far as she's concerned, the only reason I have to be in Melly is to see this painting. Well Nan, mission accomplished! It's not as big as you'd expect, but it's beautifully done.
One of the steward-people kept giving Wendy and I funny looks because we were taking quite a few photos of it, so eventually I called him over and explained that I lived in the village where it was. He was quite interested, and let me ramble on about how the black criss-crosses in the bottom right corner were in fact part of a bridge that leads to a secluded island hidden behind the green foliage, and how there's a waterfall with stepping stones, and what the building behind the tree houses. When I mentioned that they'd repainted the dome of the house he asked me if I had repainted it. I mean, seriously? No I did not. Stupid man.
But I told him who the house was owned by, and that my grandparents used to polish the owner's silver, and that I went down there for bonfires for many years when I was small. I felt very important, telling this art-guy stuff about a painting. I felt like I should have been the steward. But then I acknowledge the fact that I nothing about every single other bit of work in the Gallery, and remind myself not to get too big-headed ;)
Oh, and Wendy has a Marilyn moment, as when walking over an air vent the wind sent her skirt a-flutter. She wanted me to write that in my blog. Rest assured that nothing was on show, and if it was on TV it would be under the U-viewing.
After we discovered the painting, our job was done. We left the Gallery, and seeing as it was still light, decided to do something else in the city. So we made our way to the tallest building in Australia, paid a fee, and ascended to the 88th floor. There are panoramic views of Melborne there, it's absolutely stunning. You can see for miles and miles, and Wendy showed me where many things were. I was able to see St Kilda, where Nic and I got our tattoos; Fitzroy, where we sat in the park and I tried out my new ukulele; Flinders St, the main train station, and many other things.
On the floor, there is a special section called 'The Edge', which is a glass box that extends three metres from the side of the building whilst you're in it. The floor is all icy-white, and there's tensional music playing as the box moves from the edge. It builds and builds, then hits a crescendo and the 'ice' shatters, leaving the floor and walls transparent, and you standing on nothing but four centimetres of glass 300+metres above the ground. Cool.
No comments:
Post a Comment