9:49am
I've checked out of the hostel but am sitting in its kitchen eating bread and cheese and a
pear for breakfast. I always thought bread and cheese was what travellers were supposed to
eat. I think somebody taught me that once. When we bought these groceries, Aileen made
sure I had milk and
tomato sauce (my
staples), she was surprised when I said I could do without sauce for three days. (Turns out I
didn't as I had a great pool of it on my chips on Tues.) It's nice and comforting somehow that
the Gray's already recognize my eating habits and such. Steve says, "I've never seen anyone
drink so much milk in my life." I've been thinking about the frequency with which I've started
to think of the Gray's house as home. Most of them have really made it feel that way. Yet if
home is truly where the heart is, I can leave part of my heart here with these people for
safekeeping and feel like I am coming back to one of my homes someday. It will only be a
very small part since the rest of my heart belongs to my family, my lover, my city, province,
country, my house and my bed. Oh yeah, and my teddy bears. 9:53am
about 1:45pm says the guy in a suit beside me
I'm eating in Hungry
Jack's. I had to know how it compares to Burger King. They have veggie burgers here!
Do they have that sort of thing in Canada? I don't know cuz I only ever get fries at the drive
thru.
It's been a very successful day thus far. I've been shopping all day and managed to scratch 9 or 10 names off my Christmas list. Maggie is proving difficult to buy for and I know what I want for Amy, I just can't find it. I bought most of the things at the Queen Victoria Market which is a confusing, bustling place, basically an outdoor market that covers an entire block. I met a nice girl whose father makes dijeridoos and other aboriginal art and a pushy guy who very enthusiastically sold me a typical Australian souvenire t-shirt.
There is a tiny bird hopping across the floor of Hungry Jack's look for stray chips. I wish I hadn't just finished mine, I'd be happy to share.
I managed to navigate Melbourne's busy streets by both tram and foot with remarkably little difficulty. I'm starting to get oriented here and have begun to recognize street names. I almost always know which direction I'm going in. Now all I have to do is get back to Frankston on the train. No problem.
I'm pretty proud of myself today.
2:59pm (that's when the train's supposed to leave, but we're not moving yet. i broke
my watch so my time's are never definite.)
A remarkably good looking teenage boy (Amy would've really dug him) helped me buy
the right ticket and a sullen adolescent girl assured me that this train is going to Frankston.
Shaughn would be proud of my ability to handle public transit today.
I got a busking permit for the city of Melbourne. I don't know if I'm going to use it in the week I have left here, but it was free and only mildly inconvenient to get after a very friendly boy playing guitar on the street directed me to the right place.
My back hurts from shopping and my belly is super full of fast food, but I feel really healthy today regardless. And brave. Yup, that too. Melbourne is just a city, like any city.
7:50pm
I'm safe at "home" now. It wasn't that scary after all. I helped a blind lady off the train in
Frankston. That made me feel all warm and nice.
At the market, I came across a place selling those Mr. and Miss books (you know, like Mr. Messy or Mr. Mean) that all teach valuable life lessons. I found one that's awfully appropriate for my situation. It's called "Mr. Jelly" and it's all about a little guy who goes to jelly every time he gets scared (which is often) and says things like "Oh disaster! Oh calamity! It's the end of the world!" when really it's just an autumn leaf that has fallen on his head, until a nice tramp sleeping in the grass teaches him to count to ten and then he'll find that what's frightening him isn't quite so frightening after all. I bought it and will carry it with me on the airplane. You can learn a lot from children's books sometimes.
Speaking of which, Puffing Billy made me feel like a little girl. I sat up on the edge and dangled my feet over the side of the train, which is apparently, the thing to do. There was an entire train car full of primary school children in their uniforms doing the same thing behind me. Along the track there were a group of scruffy bearded people having a barbecue. My little girl liked to think they were outlaws hiding in the Dandenongs, but if that was the case I don't think they would've waved and smiled for the camera.
Shaughn says my voice is being influenced by the Australian accent. I hadn't noticed and neither had anyone here, but I guess he would be the one to know. 8:04pm
to Friday, December 8, 2000
to australian tour diary
oz = can
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