FREE!

Bobby the cab driver informed me that public transportation is free in Melbourne all of April (and it turns out, May too) to encourage people to use it more given higher gas prices in the wake of the war in Iran. I keep waiting for someone to hear my US accent and thank me, but alas, not yet. So far I have been walking everywhere. This is a very walkable city. It seems a shame to not take advantage of free trams. 

Speaking of which, last night I had a glass of the free wine they gave me in my hotel. 

It was ok. I'll continue to drink it. I have yet to use the free drink card they gave me to use in the hotel bar/restaurant, which is where I ate dinner Monday night. But I digress.

I was going to talk about Tuesday. 

If I had known it was going to be 70s everyday, I would have packed differently. 

Yesterday (Tuesday) I went to the cafe for coffee and breakfast and then hung out in my room until I met Melita at 12:30. Melita and I met some years ago at our mutual friends Stacey's home. Stacey has told me that Australians are very efficient and organized, but Melita and I had some contrary experiences. Still, it was a lovely day.

We went to a great Asian restaurant called Chin Chin (which was recommended in my guidebook) and then we walked to two NGV's (National Gallery of Victoria (there are three of them.)) Everything we saw was free. There are exhibits that charge, but we saw great art without paying. 

I have no idea what this is:

The first one, NVG International, had a gallery 13 which was impossible to find. Because one of the wings was closed we were told to go up, take a ramp, go to 20 and then 14 and then we'd find 13. Problem! The galleries were not numbered and none of the other gallery staff seemed to know where we wanted to go, or even, perhaps, that the galleries were numbered. Ok, we did not make it to 13, and if I'm being honest, I forgot why were were going there to be begin with. Still they had a Picasso and a Dali and this cool ceiling.

 

Then we walked to NGV Australia, in Federation Square, which is a gallery and performance space.

They had a great exhibit about motherhood. I might go back and spend more time there. 

It was great to spend time with Melita again! Thanks for showing me around!!!

I walked back to the hotel and passed some souvenirs shops (sorry Dad, no mug yet) and a yarn store. My friend Kelly had sent me a youtube video of a lovely, very talkative young woman reviewing Melbourne yarn stores. The biggest and closest one was on the way home. They had some great yarns but unfortunately (or maybe fortunate for my wallet) they didn't have enough skeins in the colors I liked to make a sweater. So I got this one lonely one which I will undoubtedly make an interesting hat with (after I am done with the current interesting hat... and the two sweaters.) 

So that was that. I read and knit and got room service like an adult.

I was in bed from 8pm to 7am. I am hoping my body has finally acclimated to the time change. There is a Queen Victoria Market here, which is kind of famous. I found out last night that for four weeks they have an Asian style night Market on Wednesdays. So I plan to go to that. I hope I can stay awake.

Fifth continent, longest flight

A friend of mine texted me while I was at SFO to ask how I was doing. My response was, "We're all down here, and then we're going to be up there." I am always somewhat incredulous that I am going to get in a big metal tube with a bunch of other people, like it's the thing to do. Everyone seems so calm, like it's normal. I freaked out a bit when they started looking for people to voluntarily take a later flight because the plane was too heavy (um... excuse me?) I popped some Ativan and boarded. It was one of the smoothest flights I have been on in years, which is great, because it was almost 16 hours long. 

I thought getting out of the airport was going to involve more human interaction. I was instructed to a kiosk to scan my passport and take my picture. Then I was instructed to leave, not wait on the long line that other people were waiting on, to talk to an airport official in a glass booth. Again, I was incredulous. I asked, "Don't I need to talk to someone, to ensure I'm not a criminal?" Apparently not. So I tried unsuccessfully to use the ATM, and then got a cab ride from a very friendly and informative cab driver named Bobby. 

I'm in Melbourne. Australia. Fifth continent.

My check-in time was 3pm. I got to the hotel before 10am so I was pleasantly surprised when I was informed they could get me in my room early. I am at the Hotel Windsor and it's exactly.... 

(I just got interrupted by a lovely woman who gave me a complimentary bottle of wine. )

... what it sounds like. It's old. It's pretty. It was not the most practical choice, nor was it too expensive.

I was excited by the high tea they have here everyday until I found out it's $89 Australian (almost $64 USD.) 

Well I had time to kill, I was hungry, and under-caffeinated. I got my first flat white at a cafe, along with a BLTA on focaccia. I walked around Fitzroy gardens.

I wandered into St. Patrick's Cathedral. They were having mass (go figure, it is Monday here.) I thought showing up in my adult self, I would relate to the content of the gospel more than I did when I was a child. NOPE! 

The church was pretty though.

I feel like I should not be in my hotel room right now. It's beautiful out- 70 and sunny. (I probably could have packed better.) I was kind of given an extra day because I got checked in so early, but I am also pretty tired. I didn't sleep on the flight so much as hallucinate through it (I don't know if benzodiazepine-induced hypnogogia is a thing, but I'm going to say it is.) I have been using this time in my hotel room to review the places I want to go, and write this blog. I am meeting up with a friend of a friend tomorrow, which will be lovely. At some point I will have to find dinner. I should NOT crack open that wine tonight. 

Big ass museum part deux

Ok, not as big as the one I went to yesterday, but big enough that I spent a couple of hours there. The Museo Nacional de Arte contains Mexican art from the 16th to 20th century. The building is as impressive. It's neoclassical (apparently) and people go nuts taking pictures. There was a couple on the stairs with a photographer lying on the steps taking a picture of their hands so they had the ceiling as the backdrop.

I had not realized that Sunday was their free day, so when I got there ten minutes after opening, there was a long line outside. It was crowded at first but thinned out after the first exhibit. I would been happy to pay the 95 Mexican pesos for more breathing room. Just as a point of reference, that is $5 and change. I just looked it up; admission to the De Young Museum is $20 and to the SF MOMA is $30. The most I have paid for any museum admission has been 100 Mexica Pesos. The tour to Teotihuacan was $44. 

They did ask you to pay 5 Mexican Pesos for permission to take pictures. They give you this stylish ring as proof.

The exhibition on the ground floor went from death, to the tarot, to astrology, to mediums. It got decidedly more churchy later.

Some of my favorite work here was by Adolfo Mexiac:

They had a room of sculpture, many with mythical themes:

And then things got super churchy. We know Delia is not churchy.

In that last one, Jesus seems super chill. 

There was an exhibition on German List Arzubide. He was Mexican, not German. I am saying these names like I've heard of them before; I haven't.

Just when I thought I had got to all of it, I noticed an exhibition on the telegraph.

That was about it. I promised myself no more running and looking at stuff. I came back to my hotel room, got a cappuccino and a pretzel shaped pastry. I went to dinner down the block. I ordered a sandwich and got this:

I felt a lot of pressure. If I wasn't leaving tomorrow I would have saved one. So instead I massacred it:

That's it. I fly to NY, via Atlanta tomorrow. Hopefully my luggage also arrives. I'm considering putting cloths in my backpack just in case. 

Thanks for reading.