Welcome to Melbourne - We Want to eat your Brains!

I arrived this morning - bright and early, after what can only be described as the most incredible flight of all time.  Qantas really knows how to make you fall in love with their service, starting with the fact they always address you by your name, the seats are luxurious and to top it off, they feed you really yummy meals.  The gift bags full of goodies to make your trip easier don't hurt either.  

I have to admit, I didn't even notice the length of the flight; I barely had a chance to consider the time spent cooped up, thanks to all the entertainment they offer with their "Q on Demand" stations, and the feedings (they really were full on meals, complete with dessert, alcoholic beverages of your choosing, and some sort of yummy pastry that I really shouldn't have eaten!)  I did manage to get a fair bit of sleep too, which is rather uncommon for me.  I tend to have a 'performance' anxiety issue when it comes to sleeping in public places, but I managed a solid 6 hours none the less.  Fabulous. 

When I deplaned this morning, I felt completely awake (shocking) and ready to take on the world.  That feeling dissipated slightly when, come the time for the security check, there was a billboard posting saying that Channel 7 was filming their customs/security tv reality show.  Now, if you've ever seen it, you will understand when I say that I was horrified.  Those people - the ones they yank aside unceremoniously - are the most absurd and frustrating cases of deviants ever to try and smuggle fish/seeds/animals/poultry, etc into Australia.  So, granted, they're idiots, but ... I somehow had a moment's panic that I would be caught smuggling in a pack of breath mints and a mini-sized pack of M&M's, and then face the wrath of the smarmy Channel 7 bloke as security carried me off to fine me A$20,000 and throw me in jail.  Seriously.  Thankfully, that did not happen, but I held my breath through the entire experience and only released it when clear of the 'secure' area.  

Now, after so many hours sitting, I took it upon myself to haul my luggage for the walk to the hotel, and drop it off.  A half hour later (mostly walking in circles as there were numerous pedestrian closings due to construction), I managed to be free of my massive amount of stuff.  I didn't check in because Jayne won't be here until tonight, and feeling as great as I did, I saw no reason to - why pay for another day when we don't have to.  Mind you, I look like death (pictures to follow) but I did manage a quick wash and change while at the hotel lobby washroom.  From there I hauled my cookies BACK to the airport (avoiding the secure areas and potential hell from Channel 7) and grabbed the SkyBus to take the twenty minute ride from the airport back into Melbourne city center.

The SkyBus dropped me off at the Spencer Street Station, at which point I walked out and randomly turend myself in any direction, and set off.  Jayne doesn't arrive until almost 8pm, and I don't need to head back to the airport until 7-ish, so having an itinerary is pointless. 

I've been walking for hours - since 9 am, actually, and it's been a good adventure.  I have managed to cover a lot of ground, because it seems like the thing I should do when I have nothing stopping me, and no sense of where I want to be.  Museums, parks, bridges, and even now a public library... I'm making the most of my day! 

I spent a good chunk of my morning walking along the Yarra River, taking pictures and marveling at the mish-mash of architecture, as well as the random ways that people manage to yell things across the river.  At any given time, a conversation is being held, very loudly, at a very great distance.  For a while I sat on a bench and applied sunscreen - it's a balmy 18 degrees here, sunny and moderately windy, but lovely none-the-less - and listened to birds. 

After my park-lounging, I wandered back into civilization, and went in search of food.  This was much harder than I would have anticipated. 

Walking up Swanston, after leaving the cafe where I finally had lunch, what did I walk into?  Thousands of zombies.  Seriously.  They were everywhere, blood dripping from their mouths, detached limbs dragging behind them, and dozens of broken down, decrepit bodies being hauled up the street in true 'Night of the Living Dead' fashion.  It was enough to make Shannon proud! 

The chants were hard to miss... "What do we want?" and "Brains," were called out feverishly in the background.  "We want to eat your brains!"  Lovely!  Actually, it was quite the fun mob scene, and everywhere you looked there were people hanging off of each other, running into traffic to accost motorists, and just generally create chaos.  I spent a half hour walking and talking with the zombies, occasionally being accosted myself, and just generally enjoying the atmosphere. 

I did, however, miss the zombies versus humans yesterday.  I am saddened by this, but at least am pleased that I got to see the million zombie march. 

So far my general impression of Australia is that it is expensive, extremely difficult to order coffee, and so expansive that even with several days I'll never see a tenth of this city.  And I love it.  The people are kind, the coffee is incredible, and there are pastry and chocolate shops on nearly ever corner, giving me a good head start on picking up sweets for Jayne tonight. 

The expense of things - which I suppose is caused by everything having to be shipped so very far to get here - is understandable, but still hard to swallow.  I paid A$3 for a bottle of water that would cost me 69 cents Canadian.  I looked at books in a shop and there were none for less than A$20 (soft covers, no less!) and a very meager lunch (that was yummy, though nothing fancy) cost me almost A$15 when at home it would have probably cost closer to C$8. 

Still, regardless of the expense or of the zombies who are roaming free, I do love Melbourne.  So far it's been a lovely day, and this casual swing-in to the public library has given me a chance to rest my aching feet a while. 

Next up I'm headed to the park, and possibly for another coffee.  I might still be able to catch up with the zombies too, and find out what all the cool un-dead are doing tonight.  Who knows, maybe I'll want to participate after we get Jayne and Squidge to bed! 

Right now, I'm just so thankful to be alert and feeling well, and here.  Finally!  It still feels unreal! 

Ready, Set...

Go!

So the day before the great adventure has finally arrived, complete with last minute anxiety over a haircut that is ... possibly far too lesbian for my preferred heterosexual look... but all in all I think I'm well prepared.

Weighing the luggage, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I have 13 pounds to 'play' with in terms of souvenir shopping on my way back, and that will likely be flexible, since I'm very good at strategizing my carry-on luggage to smuggle all the extra bits that would otherwise herniate the backs of the luggage handlers.  

As I type I'm comfortably propped on a chair in Jo's livingroom, watching French hockey commentary, and all the while running through the list of things I need to remember to do tomorrow.  Oh yes, me and my lists.  There's no way to deny that I live for my lists.

The normal anxiety that was stressing me out earlier in the week has since passed, and a sense of peace has finally settled; there's something to be said for fantasizing about a life full of Xanax - what a miracle drug it is that without even taking any, I feel completely at peace!  This is one of those times when I definitely appreciate the placebo effect.

Today's huge anxiety, as previously eluded to, was the hair-cutting event of this evening.

Ever walk into a salon, expecting to see your favourite stylist, only to find out that the 95 pounds of tattooed goth has now moved on, presumably to a gig with the Suicide Girls?  That's pretty much what happened to me - and instead, the replacement was a strange cross between my grandmother, and a girl I used to know in school.

I had hesitations - I confess, I had many, many hesitations.  I liked my edgy goth tattooed freak who was so hysterically funny that I feared decapitation as her scissors navigated the area around my neck.  Alas, no bliss - she's gone, and I'm not about to go stalking after a random mystery stylist so, I settled into the chair and said the words I thought summed up my request:  'just cut it to shoulder length'...  She could do anything else she could ever want, but that was the length I wanted.  Bangs?  If she thought it best.  Layers?  Ok.  My only request was shoulder length...

I may not have adequately relayed my requests.

Instead, the result is strangely short hair that terrifies me.  I have NEVER had short hair - in fact, the shortest my hair had been (before this) was  - wait for it - shoulder length.  Give or take one bad accident in highschool when I'm convinced I took leave of my senses and did a harsh jaw-line cut, that is.

If this hair debacle is the worst that comes of my pre-trip jitters, than I figure all is well.  I have actually received a couple of compliments on it, and I can roll with it otherwise (I've considered a wig, extensions, and big-ass hats, all of which have both upsides and downs...)  I had initial angst that I might be looking far too Rosie O'Donnell like, but I have been reassured numerous times that I still have a ways to go before reaching that point - *whew*  I really was worried there...

My first flight leaves Ottawa tomorrow just before ten am.  I arrive in Australia Saturday morning just before eight am, and at every point in between I have a various adventures laid out.  My fabulous parents are venturing from London to come visit me in Toronto and we'll have lunch (and possibly find alternative hair-solutions...) and a visit before we all take off for parts unknown.  It's funny: only in my family can we routinely be on three different continents at once, and never think anything of it.

Love it.

So, it might be a few days before I get to swing back in, but certainly I will be looking forward to hearing from you, and updating very soon!

Adios!

Getting Ready...

I've been negligent with updating. As of late my view has been limited to the commute to and from work, as well as the windowless closet I call my lab. 

The good news is that the view is about to change - pretty drastically even! There are only four more days until I leave for Australia. These are, I'm convinced, the hardest; those days leading up to a trip are always anxiety filled.  
 

First there is that dreadful anxiety of what to pack so as to not overpack, and assessing the little things that can I buy there instead of taking it all with me. I hate obsessing over what to pack but for three and a half weeks on the road there's a definite pressure. 

My second great anxiety is in regard to what's left behind. My girls - my two darling cats - are being left to a friend to care for and as wonderful as they are I do stress that they'll grow anxious with limited human contact. At best, they would be described as neurotic, and at least a little bit needy.  Lucie is brilliant with them, but there's nothing quite like being at home to cuddle with them at night.  Stressful! 

It's funny because the journey is rarely what stresses me out. I'm not the kind to panic over delays or rough landings/take offs; morbid as it may seem, there's not much I can do to control the plane and it's happenings... I'd rather the voyage be flawless but I don't dwell on the process as long as I eventually touch down in my destination.   

It seems a little absurd to stress over the last few days. Ultimately I'm always ready on time and I rarely forget things of consequence (except for those few times where I have had to improvise pajamas - they're always my last thought and seem of such little consequence until you're sharing a room with other people!). I have on occasion forgotten small toiletries, and once - one harried time - my passport. Ops. Thankfully that was before the days of manditory on-hand 
passports; a very long time ago you could travel with a birth certificate and a driver's license. 

And yet, as the trip approaches, I once again find myself writing lists of things to pack, feverishly underlining the things I'm apt to forget: socks, pajamas, the travel guides, laptop adapter... I compare lists studiously and check to see what I've forgotten from sheet to sheet, and ammending as necessary.  A list is tucked in my purse, in my shoulder bag, as well as sticky-taped to my laptop lest I might lose one or six of the lists, and I virtually memorize it by this point after so many reviews.  

Tonight I'll iron the few things which I already am sure I don't need, empty my camera flash cards to be certain I have 11G of mobile memory (in addition to the 16G mobile flash stick I have should I need even more memory...)  and quite likely I'll go through my stash of teeny tiny toiletries to be certain that I have what I need to keep my case underweight (and with plenty of room for souvenirs)  

So, the anxiety has hit, as it always does, but the good news is that as always I know it will pass, and when I touch down on Saturday morning, I will be entirely ready for whatever adventure might come.  I have one day in Melbourne before Jayne and Squidge arrive, and at that point I will hit the ground running and discover whatever the 11 hours of waiting will provide - I anticipate a little shopping, a little hapless wandering, and more than a few pictures.