It was time to say 'g'day' to Bruce and 'ows it gowin' to Sheila. Time to get down the bottle-o to grab me enough tinnies to make me chunder. But time most importantly time to re-Christian myself Sammo!*
Yes, I was in Victorian Australia; yet, without all those unsightly factories. It was of course the state of Victoria and the city of Melbourne where I was reacquainted with teen chum and minor giant man Simon; or to use his formal title Simmo. Baptism over, I headed down to the river to attempt some semi extreme sports. The sport in mind: wake-boarding, where the events of the day most definitely woke me up. Having watched others show me how it's done, I followed (swim)suit and slipped my size elevens (that's right ladies!) into the board ready to ride. Unfortunately, with another boat also trying to use the water, my abilities were slowing us down and so shortly after starting we changed plan and decided that it may be better idea for me to be pulled along in a rubber ring instead. Later, falling off the tube at 90km/hour toward the bank and hitting my head harder than a suicidal woodpecker it was safe to say that this hadn't been a good idea. After my neck had stop being such a... well, pain in itself. I decided to watch the Melbourne race in the 2011 Formula One Championship. Watching the race with Simon's family, it turned out this was quite the event: with cars, planes, scantily clad women and celebrities as famous as Brian McFadden all involved! Although confusing following who was winning, losing, in, out or how that safety car with the flashing lights was ever going to sell ice creams on that side of the fence, it was great entertainment as the F1 cars whistled along the track loud enough to multiply my ear drums into the entire Notting Hill carnival. For the next few weeks I spent my days throwing limited numbers of shrimp but a fair few sausages on the barbie - Ken was not best pleased after her face melted. I also, played more football than Charlie Sheen has tantrums, went drinking a fair few nights in Eurotrash and relived 90s shopping in both Woolworths and Safeway. I also began doing as Victorians do (no not colonising everywhere I visited): watching AFL, a sport where the players stampede toward their opponents with enough intensity to make rhinos squirm. Specifically, I went to the Melbourne Cricket Ground to watch Richmond vs. St. Kilda. Many handballs (which in this version of football is apparently legal) later and the game was tied tighter than a pair of oversized swimming shorts. A great spectacle for the neutral, but not for the saints who vowed never to slay any dragons ever again. It was also Melbourne Comedy Festival season. So our choice in act was David O'Doherty, a man who rambles enough to ware Janet Street-Porter out. Yet his songs made me chuckle so much that had I not been wearing thongs my socks may well have blown off. In conclusion, my stay was a relaxing and homely break from backpacking life. I am now leaving Melbourne for Cairns to head back on the trail. Apparently there are crocs in the sea, but I've never been afraid of shoe-ware. *Technically, I've never been Christened and as such can not be re-Christened. However, as God lives in the sky and I'm currently situated down under I figure I am far enough away that he wont hear me. Is that how it works? And does God own the Internet as that might scupper my theory?
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
Samuel FryTraveller Archives
June 2011
Categories
All
|