Melbourne revisited

After three weeks in Apollo bay, I felt it was time to move on. I had a great time, learned a great deal, and enjoyed a much needed respite from the uncertainty of where to stay each night. It is expremely liberating to move about in that way, but after months of this, a regular place and a familiar face to come home to are priceless.

I headed back to Melbourne cluching the bag of cookies my generous host had provided for the journey taking time to visit the Twelve, now nine apostles on a trip back to Melbourne.

While taking photographs of those amazing natural sculptures I fell into conversation with George, another ex-IT person who had recently been in New Zealand and began a facinating conversation that lasted almost 2 days.

We shared the train ride with a rather fearful lady who told me all about how terrible the Vietnamese were (I asked her when she was last in Vietnam?) Ditto for Indians, how nice Surfers Paradise was ?!!!!!! (A more soulless place I could barely imagine, though the beach was nice.) She told me how Austrailia was becoming overcrowded with immigrants.

Until this point I had maintained British reserve, content to try and immerse myself in her world, and imagine what that would be like.I burst out laughing and dropped in the stat that more people live in Mumbai than the whole of Austrailia.

It was a terrible shock to discover she was a highschool teacher Thankfully most others are better informed.

George was a fascinating guy to talk to, and we agreed to meet the next day to carry on our conversation which lasted long into the night. Solo travel gives the opportunity to see the world on ones own terms. For me the tourist sights can be seen on documentaries or in picture books, but the opportunity to spend time with people is what makes travel such a broadening experience.

Well aware that that one may never see that person again allows a refreshing frankness. There is no need for the usual facades.

The next day caught up with Fletch, an inspirational young man who I met in Cambodia while he was teaching at a school for street kids. At just 18 he had a grasp of media and world issues most of us do not reach till much older, and some like our school teacher may never know.

Since Cambodia, I was releaved to see he had regained some weight having been very sick, though in the meantime managed to injure his knee, and his wrist while getting used to the crutches. His spirit was not damped though, and he showed me round some parts of town I would have totally missed.

On my way back to the hostel I had another of those moments which are becoming so familiar I'm not even surprised. Walking along with my $1.50 pizza slice I came across a familiar face, a girl from Nimbin who had shared her goon with me at the very straight edged hostel, one of the few Austrailians I had met staying in them. Aussie nationals are unable to stay in many hostels, they are for foreigners only.

She and her friend were going to see Reg D Barker a black comic in town for the Melbourne Comedy festival,with a friend and invited me along for a hilarious show, which opened with a piss take of British understatement and class conciousness. Though its true the funnier the show the harder to remember the gags, and you had to be there.

Back at the hostel some kids from the homecounties were point scoring over where they went to school, how tough it was in the city, I had really forgotten what tiresome social games that demogaphic still plays – brought into sharp comedy relief by the show I had just seen.

Thankfully there were some older folks, including my favourite drinking companions the sharp witted Scots and self effacing Irish whose banter is as gritty as it is honest.

An Aboriginal, who at first seemed drunk was making an arse of himself, asking people their names and where thay were from over and over, hassling women, demanding cigarettes and food from those too meek to refuse. His behaviour would not have been accepted from a white man. He was aware that he could get away with his intimidation because people were so afraid of appearing predudiced.

Common with some black fellers, I belive the land owns me not the other way around. As Alan Watts my favouite spiritual entertainer says - “The earth people's in the same was as an apple tree apples”, I feel I have the right to camp anywhere I please, and I'll stand up to anyone who is being an arse, whatever their colour. The middle class kids had left the foyer where I had been typing away and retreated out back.

Suprisingly when I looked him in firmly in the eye and told him to he was embarrasing himself and upsetting others, he apologised and went off to bed saying in parting “You're alright Jim! You Welsh are the black fellas of Europe I reckon”, and winked!

The next day Fletch invited me to his folks place, to stay and see their ecologically inspired house, self sufficient in power and water and a garden with peacherines, a cross between a peach and a nectarine, though unfortunatly they were not in season to taste.

His mum, an environmental consultant to Government on litter was a fascinating person to talk to, and kindly did some laudry and gave Flech and I some vouchers to use the hot springs. We drove to them in her Prius and stayed in the sulphorous springs till we were quite pruned.

That night I caught an overnight bus to Sydney, sitting next to an IT worker originally from Chennai, and chatted until we fell asleep.

The maritime museum in Sydney is amazing and thankfully free. When I explained my interest in scrimshaw on of the staff suggested I visit the government archives. One phone call and fifteen minutes later I was sat at a desk with six books the librarian had picked out for me on sailors crafts and survival at sea.

That night I met up with Janelle from Cambodia who had recommended the place Chris and I stayed while in Campot. While we caught up, she showed me the sights including the Harbour bridge and took me for half and half pumpkin and duck pizza in the Australia, a grand old pub above the harbour.

Back at the hostel a Korean fellow who was sat on his bunk drinking beer while typing on his laptop fell off, I laughed at his clumsiness but was shocked when he started fitting, his eyes rolling back in his head. I cleared the space around him and had reception call an ambulance. I could not believe the man on the desk continued with processing new arrivals instead of making the call straight away, I would like to think they were too shocked to realise what was going on. The paramedics were there within minutes – by which time he had stopped fitting and was in and out of consciousness. They gave him oxygen and looked in his bag for drugs or medication, finding nothing, and with the driest of humour remarked “Thank fuck he's Asian, he's neat!”