Friday nights are usually family dinner night with my significant other’s family. We all gather at his aunt’s house at 6 pm sharp and feast on a large spread of meats, fish and vegetables. (Well, they do. I stick to the veggies). This is followed by fruit, which is then followed by coffee and cake — homemade, of course. It’s essentially Christmas dinner every Friday. No wonder I can’t seem to shed that little bit of extra weight I’ve gained since moving here.
This week his aunt, along with his dad and one of his cousins, went to Sydney to visit relatives so we were left to our own devices. Keeping the family dinner tradition alive, we made plans to meet up with his other cousin and his wife (who I’m going to refer to as D and Y from now on) for dinner in the city. We decided we’d meet up at Flinders Station and figure out where to go from there.
It’s been seven months since I moved to Melbourne (seven months already!) and I’m fairly settled now. In some ways, it was easy as Melbourne and Toronto are pretty similar cities. But there were some things I had to learn and adjust to along the way. Here’s my run-down of some of the thing I discovered that no one told me and that never gets written about in travel books.
Australia’s most underrated city also happens to be my new favourite. A victim of its nickname, perhaps, the City of Churches is often dismissed by Aussies as boring. But after a weekend getaway with my significant other to celebrate our three year anniversary, I beg to differ.
It’s no secret to both tourists and locals alike — the best parts of Melbourne are tucked away in the city’s many laneways. They can be picturesque and Instagram-worthy or downright dodgy looking, those in the know will venture down any alley to see what new hotspot might be hidden there.
It’s no surprise then that my significant other and I made our way to several laneway destinations while out celebrating a friend’s birthday last weekend. Our night began at The Whisky Den on Russell Street. Not located on a laneway, but worth mentioning because of their extensive selection of whiskies. (Note: I’ve never been sure if it’s ‘whisky’ or ‘whiskey’. After reading this guide from The Kitchn I’ll use ‘whisky’ going forward since neither Canada nor Australia have an ‘e’ in their name). Our friend, a whisky enthusiast, was thrilled to find 17 year old Springbank on the menu. An elusive Scotch whisky, he apparently hasn’t been able to find it since a trip to the United Kingdom ten years ago.
Just a week after raving about bullet journaling and the structure it provides me I took a break from it. But for good reason — my mom and sister came to visit.
This does not mean I gave up my planning tendencies though. I usually spend a great deal of time researching a city’s sights, attractions and restaurants when I travel. I’ll devise detailed daily itineraries, plotting out the most logical walking routes to fit in everything I want to see that also takes me to pre-determined restaurants for meals or snacks along the way. I find the walking routes helpful as they optimize the experience of a city by ensuring I’m always traveling between attractions on vibrant, main roads rather than side streets. I also get lost easily. Not all cities cater to vegetarians as well as others, so researching restaurants is also crucial — for both me and my travel partner — to avoid hunger-induced grumpiness.
“Nostalgia is denial. Denial of the painful present. The name for this denial is Golden Age thinking — the erroneous notion that a different time period is better than the one one’s living in — it’s a flaw in the romantic imagination of those people who find it difficult to cope with the present.”
This comment comes from my favourite, newer Woody Allen flick, “Midnight in Paris”.Insufferable, know-it-all Paul offers it as an indirect criticism of Gil, who is working on a novel about a character who owns a nostalgia shop. Gil shares in his character’s penchant for the past and as an aspiring novelist, idealizes F. Scott Fitzgerald, Earnest Hemingway and other creative figures of the 1920’s.
My significant other loves South Park. I mean loves it. Having seen Matt Stone and Trey Parker’s other creation, The Book of Mormon, in New York a few years ago, I was convinced he would love that too. And so, it has always been at the back of my mind that at some point I needed to take him to see it.
As luck would have it, Melbourne was covered in advertisements announcing the arrival of the play when we first moved here. I looked into purchasing tickets as a Valentine’s gift, but they were out of my budget, so I was delighted when I learned $20 tickets were going to be released for a special preview performance. I woke up bright and early the morning tickets went on sale and made my way to the Princess Theatre box office to join what I assumed would be a modest sized line.
What follows is a run down of events and my rationale for staying as each hour went by: