November 9
Melbourne
My room is very comfortable. It is definitely a business hotel with no frills. It contains the things that you need for a good night’s sleep and all of them are clean and new.
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When I emerged, it was dull and breezy. Probably quite chilly by local standards. I joined the crowds walking down Spencer St and fought my way into the station - everyone else was coming out of it. I had a look at the trains but didn't take photos of them - train stations are a bit sensitive about photography. In the days of yore, I would have been taken for a geriatric anorak. Now I could easily be mistaken for a terrorist, not a happy fate.
I searched for a cafe that wasn't following the local predilection for toasting everything. In a dingy one, up a dark alley, I found a huge, inch-thick, salad and salami sandwich. The quantity of salad stuff was so great that it should satisfy my healthy eating requirements for the day. They also made a very good coffee. Outside the alley, it had been raining. I joined the tram queue, fought my way on and then off again five minutes later. The drizzle had re-appeared and the first umbrellas were in evidence.
I wandered up Elizabeth St in order to have a look at the camera shop where I bought a second hand lens six months ago. This time, the second hand window didn't contain anything to interest me, which saved me from having to decide whether or not to buy it.
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Bourke St contains the flagships of Melbourne retailing, Myers and David Jones. Myers is the more elegant. Just like Selfridges, people queue to view the Christmas decorations. Inside, it was bright and airy and I walked the length (height?) of the store seeking a small alarm clock.
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The search failed but I enjoyed chats with a couple of the staff and obtained breath taking views from the top floor of the building next door being demolished. Watching the diggers balancing on the upper floors as they demolished them was great fun. The JCB ballet team was never as good as this.
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David Jones has low ceilings and a real trap to confuse young players. Next door to the Myers building is the 'Ladies shop'. The 'Men's shop' is across the road. Neither sex, however, could provide the alarm clock that I wanted.
It being 11 am and time for a smackerell of something, I entered another cafe, down another alley, and had a freshly squeezed orange juice. I drank it whilst watching the rain start to fall outside with considerable vigour.
Right: An alley full of cafes |
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With the rain increasing in intensity, the National Gallery of Victoria seemed a good idea. From the outside, in the gloom, it is not an attractive building. Even the flowers didn't do much to soften the brutalist aspect of the structure.
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There were lots of water features with which to experiment and I particularly liked the "wet paint" sign peering up from under an inch of water.
The much advertised exhibition of 18th & 19th century English water colours remained stubbornly hidden - even to the staff. I later spoke to a man working in the shop who had also tried but failed to find it.
I did find the European Gallery, which was a magnificent collection. There were several Sisleys (a particular favourite of mine), Monets, Manets, Constables and even a Turner.
Then, in the last room, which I nearly didn't enter, I found myself standing in front of the Battle of Quatre Bras, the original version, about 6 foot by 3 foot and in glorious technicolour.
I was aware that it was in Melbourne but didn't know where and hadn't even thought about it when I decided to visit the gallery. I stared at it for ages, took lots of photos (very strange light) and felt a little emotional. It seemed appropriate that I should find it on the last full day of the trip.
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After that, everything was an anti-climax. I never found the English watercolours and emerged from the building to find that in an hour, the world had changed and there was blue sky and blazing sunshine.
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In March, I had a lovely salad in Federation Square. I did the same now. Whilst I don't think the salad was quite as good, the seafood linguine I had with it was excellent. Every so often, the wind got up and scattered papers and napkins across the square.
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Deciding to continue my quest for a clock, I took a tram then meandered around Bourke St, then entered a watch shop I had passed in the morning near to the camera shop on Elizabeth St. They had one that was a little larger than I would have liked but very light so I bought it.
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Opposite Parliament is the Imperial, a very grand building. I tried to have a beer here in March but there was a fault so that none of the beer pumps was working.
This time, all was well and I had a very nice pale ale from NSW with an impossible Polish name, which I drank at a pavement table.
The free circular tram took me back to the hotel door - or about 20 metres away - where I had a much needed rest. As is often the case at the end of a holiday, my hip was telling me that it wanted to go home.
After an hour or so, I roused myself, changed and showered and walked down the hill to the train. It was hot but there were clouds on the horizon and the forecast heavy rain looked quite likely.
Catching the train was a fun idea - except that doing it in the middle of the rush hour made the whole experience just about as pleasant as it would have been in London. The station was packed and the train was packed. I managed to catch the right one and we went underground across the city, emerging near to the MCG.
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I disembarked at Richmond, found Swan St and walked along it. The amazing
mix of old buildings was similar to some areas of London and there was
an obvious mix of the tatty and the upwardly mobile. There was even a scruffy
shop selling Riedel glasses cheap. Luckily, it was closed for the night
so that I wasn’t tempted.
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Having arrived early, I stopped for another Fat Yak in a rather fine corner pub. The problem was that in the heat, the beer entered my system at one end and rapidly emerged through all of the pores in my skin.
I waited at the posh restaurant up the road for Tony to arrive. He and Nick, soon to be married to a Korean girl, joined me and we sat over beers and nibbles and discussed food, the world and all sorts of things. A very pleasant interlude. They then had to depart to another appointment and the party broke up. Much to my chagrin, Tony paid the whole bill.
By now, the forecast storm had arrived and there was rain and lightning. I walked a short distance to a small Vietnamese restaurant which I had visited on my last trip here.
The spring rolls were structurally excellent but I'm sure mine taste better! The beef pho was good, with lots of fresh herbs. While I was there, the rain poured down outside but it had eased by the time that I emerged. A tram appeared almost immediately and I arrived at Spencer St quite rapidly. I then waited ten minutes for a second tram to carry me up the hill to the hotel, taking the opportunity to try a few night shots.
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