(Credit Will Watt)
I’ve been in Melbourne for about six weeks now. When we first arrived we stayed a few nights at Jamie’s temporary place of residence – a lovely old colonial cottage in Brunswick that was completely refurbished on the inside. It was a one million dollar piece of property belonging to his former boss, who was on vacation in the Philippines until March 9th – serendipitously the same date Kristie and Susie’s rental in Essendon became available. Unfortunately, Jamie’s host said he wasn’t comfortable with us sleeping on his couches until then, so we had to find somewhere else to stay for the two weeks until we could freeload off Kristie and Susie. It was quite a blow – I can of course totally understand somone not being comfortable with strangers staying in their house for two weeks, but after just a few days, we’d grown quite accustomed to a certain standard of living, similar to our Beijing days.
(Credit Chaddles)
I jokingly pointed out to Chris that it would be cheaper for us to fly back to Perth on a budget airline for a few hundred dollars and stay with our families than it would be for us to stay in Melbourrne for that time. He promptly went ahead and did that. I, on the other hand, didn’t just make a big symbolic ride across the country only to fly right back for fiscal convenience.
Fortunately Kristie and Susie also needed to find short term accommodation, since they were arriving in a few days, and we ended up splitting a cheap triple room at a shitty hotel in the city centre. Even after backpacking across Asia this was probably the worst value place I have ever stayed, run by a couple of deadbeats who answered questions with surly grunts and half-replies. I wrote a bad review on Tripadvisor after we left, and a few days later realised I’d left behind my motocycle road atlas and rang up to see if they had it. After telling them my name and room number, the manager identified me as the writer of the review and reacted angrily. I hung up in surprise, and a few moments later my phone rang again. Kristie urged me to answer it, saying he probably just had my atlas, but I told her not to bother because thirty seconds of speaking to him had made it clear that he was not a reasonable man. She answered it instead, and I was right – he spent about twenty minutes raving about lies and defamation, claiming that one of the conditions of staying there was that you wouldn’t write a bad review, insulting me, threatening to take money out of my account with my credit card details etc. It boggles my mind how ill-equipped this man was to simply function in normal society and interact with other human beings, let alone run a fucking hotel. He was like Basil Fawlty mixed with Scrooge.
(Credit mfield)
Anyway, we’re in a nice two-bedroom place in Essendon now. I was only supposed to be here for a few days, since Jamie’s house was supposed to be available on the 13th of March. Instead it was delayed… and then delayed again… and then delayed again. Now, buying a house is a very complicated process involving a real estate agent, the former owner, and something called a “conveyancer.” I have no idea what a conveyancer does, but it is this figure that has been holding Jamie up at every turn, giving him wrong dates, avoiding his calls, and even lying to him and saying that the owner was in Europe when Jamie had in fact seen him at the house just yesterday. Eventually Jamie called him a cunt and got a new one, but it’s now March 30 and we’re still waiting to see when we can move in – two possible dates of April 15 or March 22.
Jamie feels like he’s overstaying his welcome at his former boss’ house and is keen to move in ASAP, and Chris is still stewing away in Perth with no job and no vehicle – which makes transport impossible on that wretched suburban steppe. I, meanwhile, am OK with hanging out in Essendon a while longer. Since my parents divorced I spent eight years living with my mothering Mum, then seven years living with my neat and tidy Dad, then when Chris and I were in Berlin we were living with two girls, and I’m now again living with two girls who keep a well-ordered house and cook dinner most nights. I expect moving into a pure bachelor pad to be a shock to the senses. Jamie seems to survive on beer and cigarettes alone.
(Credit mugley)
It’s also out in the suburb of Sunshine, which we might, if we were being very polite, call “socio-economically disadvantaged.” A few weeks ago I was on the phone to Jamie and he said “Hey, have you read the paper today?”
“No.”
I’m going to do what my father does and invest in a nice baseball bat to keep by the bed.
The other downfall of Sunshine is that it’s about as far away from the city centre as the place I was living in Perth was. Of course, I came to Melbourne because I wasn’t ready to move to London alone. I’d rather be living in suburbia with friends than in a city centre alone.
(Credit Toshihiro Oshima)
And Melbourne accomplishes suburban living slightly better than Perth does. I’m in Essendon right now, for example, which is about eight k’s out of the city centre, but still has shops and trams and nightlife and medium-density housing. In Perth, travelling eight k’s out of the city centre will very easily plant you in featureless dormitory suburbs with nothing but houses, and maybe a shopping centre or two. (Which, mind you, is probably what Sunshine is like.)
It is, of course, still quite suburban and still unmistakeably Australian. I was discussing cities with Jamie the other night, who said that Sydney is more like New York and Melbourne is more like a European city. “Yeah…” I said, “But Sydney isn’t quite as good as New York and Melbourne isn’t quite as good as a European city.”
(Credit Mugley)
I don’t think Australia is ultimately for me. Melbourne is a good place to be for a few years, I think, as I begin – um, I mean finish – the transition from helpless child to responsible adult, build up a resume, save my money again etc. But there’s still travelling I want to do, and I’d still like to live in the USA or Canada for a while, and I’m fairly resolved to live in Europe eventually.
None of which is to say that Melbourne is not a fine city. Despite being younger than Perth it’s retained far more of its heritage buildings, which Perth would prefer to bulldoze to make way for monstrous McMansions, and a walk around the city centre is very pleasing to the eye. There are more cathedrals, and parks, and old theatres, and so on. Trams are awesome, although not really that useful except for short journeys. There are cool places like Sydney Road or Brunswick Road that are lined from beginning to end with shops and bars and cafes. Bats flap around at night. The weather is colder, by which I mean “not brutally hot.” It’s overcast a lot of days, like in Europe, which makes you appreciate the days of fine weather so much more.
(Credit Dean-Melbourne)
Melbourne also has the best juxtaposition in the entire world between the best and the worst architecture humans are capable of. It takes place at the intersection of Flinders Street and St. Kilda Road, which could fairly be nominated as the very centre of Melbourne. On one side of St. Kilda Road, we have Flinders Street Station – a beautiful building in the French Renaissance style.
(Credit Michael Grant)
On the other side of St. Kilda Road, we have Federation Square, a horrific fractal nightmare. It looks like a photograph of a gigantic geometry set taken half a second after it started to explode.
(Credit Edwin Lee)
It’s hilarious. I challenge anybody to find me a single square kilometre of the planet’s surface which contains a greater architectural contrast than this one right here.
Melbourne also has somewhat confusing traffic, at least for a provincial lad like me. Near Kristie’s house is Essendon’s central roundabout, the bane of my existence: an utterly horrendous six-street valve which also features a tram stop, pedestrian crossings, and traffic lights. Even after escaping this deathtrap every morning on my way to work, I have to contend with the panoply of lines and lights and signs and markings that I simply don’t understand. On our first full day here Jamie took me and Chris for a bike ride through the CBD and I had no idea what the fuck was going on. I still get honked at a lot, and generally assume it’s my fault.
(Credit Toby Corkindale)
I have a job again, for the first time in nearly a year. After applying for several marketing and writing positions, I also applied for a bookstore job which I easily received. I already sort of feel like I’m wasting my time, still working in retail at 22, but I needed money and there are far worse jobs I could have during this transitionary period. I’ve always wanted to work in a bookstore, and it has proved to be pretty neat. Occasionally I get sent up to man the newsagency kiosk in the business lounge, where I can read TIME and the New Yorker and National Geographic cover to cover, and meet (read: serve) celebrities – so far Tom Gleeson, Andy Lee, Bert Newton and Chopper Read. I also walked past Charley Boorman, one of my personal idols, as he was exiting the terminal and I was entering. I wish I’d said something to him, but when you see a famous person it always takes at least five seconds for your brain to recover, and by then he was gone. Hopefully before long I’ll meet Sam Neill, which has become an obsession of mine since everyone else I know seems to have met him.
So on the whole this job is pretty neat, apart from the occasional 5 am starts. Which aren’t really that bad – getting up at 5.30 am is awful, but getting up at 3.30 am is so far beyond the pale that my brain can’t actually comprehend what’s going on, so it passes by fairly quickly and I have the afternoon off, even if I do feel like shit and fall asleep again when I get home. The worst part is riding down the Tullamarine Freeway before dawn when it’s 11 degrees – and it’s only autumn, and so far I haven’t even been rained on. Come winter I may have to invest in a cheap car.
(Credit Dean-Melbourne)
Speaking of transport and motorbikes, Chris’ was stolen about a week or two ago. He posted it online because he intended to sell it, and left it with Jamie when he flew back to Perth. Jamie rang me one evening after returning home from work and asked if I’d come and taken Chris’ bike, to which I replied, “No, why would I?” and he said “Shit.” He’s going to lose a thousand dollars on excess, which sucks. Also just the general frustration of having something stolen. I like my bike well enough – I wouldn’t say I love it – but it’s still my fucking bike and if someone stole it from me I’d be well pissed, insurance regardless. I was furious enough when I thought someone had nabbed $400 from my bank account last year.
I’ve hung out with my old work friend Alex a few times, who moved here last year after returning from Russia. She and all her friends are from Perth; when I went to a party she threw last week with Kristie and Jamie, one of her housemates turned out to know Jamie. All of Jamie’s other friends are from Perth, as are Kristie’s, which of course makes sense – it’s a snowball effect, and one of the reasons I’m here myself – but when even random people I flag down on the street for directions say they were originally from Perth, it starts to feel like I’m in a city full of Western Australian refugees.
Which reminds me that I should be appreciating Melbourne more. I wrote this up and adorned it with swiped Flickr photos after leafing through some Melbourne travel books at work today, and remembering that I have in fact moved to a new city, one far more vibrant than my last. I should get out and explore it some more.
(Credit Dean-Melbourne)
7 comments
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April 3, 2011 at 4:03 pm
Sunrise089
Thanks for the update, glad things are going more or less well.
I’m are taking your own pictures is tedious, and the ones you included are objectively good photographs, but for what it’s worth yours are more interesting.
“I challenge anybody to find me a single square kilometre of the planet’s surface which contains a greater architectural contrast than this one right here” – I nominate Las Vegas.
Does “on excess” mean the amount of losses you have to pay out of pocket before your insurance pays the rest? We call that a deductible here, but I assume it’s the same thing (and sucks to have to pay it, sorry).
Is your new job at a bookstore in an airport or train station? I’m trying to make sense of the celebrities and the business lounge.
Finally, not to make this a Hotel23 thread, but I’m pleased that of the shotgun guy ever tries to break into my house, and if he doesn’t get me first, I’m going to be able to rely on something a bit punchier than a bat.
April 3, 2011 at 8:30 pm
Mitch
It’s partly because I haven’t actually taken any of my own photographs – I hate looking like a tourist in a city where I’m a greenhorn.
I have no doubt that Las Vegas has some tacky shit, but does it have anything nice? The point is the contrast, if it was just a contest for awful architecture then Perth would win the Australian honours quite easily.
Job’s at the domestic airport – don’t know how I missed that. I thought it would be a huge pain in the ass but it’s really not that bad, only twenty minutes away and then another ten minutes to go through security and so on.
Re: firearms, you’re just as likely to shoot a family member etc. When I came back from London, which I didn’t mention on this blog so I could surprise family, Chris and Kristie and I broke into my house at 4 am and my Dad burst out of his bedroom wielding his baseball bat. Chris was terrified by it (because I’d ducked out of sight and it was him in the line of fire), and in his words “He was ready.”
Having said that, I am actually curious to see whether living in a very disadvantaged immigrant neighbourhood will affect my left-wing views.
April 7, 2011 at 1:34 am
sunrise089
I think Vegas has some decent examples of contrast. I admit even the stuff I think is pretty is a bit over the top, but I think for example the Luxor
looks pretty nice, and I’m told it won/was nominated for some architecture awards when it was built.
Right next door is the Excalibur, which I think exemplifies the kitschy side of Vegas in a bad way
Airport job seems interesting, I’d have also though it’s have been a huge hassle. Do employees have an expedited security process?
Re: the gun thing, I hope you’ll indulge me in a few of my thoughts. I won’t bring up any rights based argument because in fairness you didn’t say anything about whether guns should be allowed, just whether they made sense.
In the broad utilitarian sense I’m familiar with the “guns are just as/more likely to hurt a family member than a criminal” data. The usual pro-gun counter is that if we consider shooting a family member as Very Bad and shooting a robber as Good or Very Good, and they cancel out, we also need to note that BRANDISHING a gun at a family member (not that that should happen) causes little harm but brandishing at a robber is again Good or Very Good if it causes the criminal to retreat. Pro-gun groups argue that the numbers of aborted crimes due to the appearance of a gun is very high, obviously their opponents dispute the estimates.
On a personal level though, I’M not just as likely to shoot a family member. I personally didn’t buy guns on a whim or a lark, I’ve taken more than the necessary amount of safety and other training, I’ve practiced and continue to do so (not as often as I’d like), my wife knows rules about guns in our home, and I put my guns away when I have guests over that don’t know the rules.
Ultimately I’m suggesting that while guns cause good and bad the effects aren’t random. Taking certain steps, I think, can vastly raise the chances of a positive outcome. Now, whether we need to force those steps on people is a different discussion.
Re: breaking into your dad’s house, we could guess at whether your dad would be more or less careful if he owned a gun and whether he’d be more or less at risk, but ultimately the story is amusing but silly because you knew all along he had a bat but still broke in. I’m sure it was a fun way to reunite, but I’m pretty confident that you’d have just called first had he had a gun instead.
Finally, I don’t consider you to have left-wing views, at least not what I’d consider the views of the typical American progressive (which would be too mild on some margins). A joke over here at least says “the progressive will only be happy when everything which is not forbidden is mandatory” and that’s the attitude I perceive in Michael Moore type figures but not in your blog.
April 12, 2011 at 10:26 pm
Mitch
There is no way in hell I would break into my house if my Dad had a gun, which in a roundabout way is an argument against guns I guess? If I seriously thought he was going to smash my head against the wall I wouldn’t have done it either though.
The guy who was shot in Sunshine I can guarantee was linked to organised crime. Random shootings, or even the involvement of guns in muggings and home invasions, are extremely rare in Australia. We simply don’t have the gun culture that the US has, and has always had. Howard’s new bans in the wake of the Port Arthur massacre were a kneejerk reaction that I disagree with, but they affected very few people, because guns have never really been a major part of Australian society. The US, on the other hand, was born in a violent revolution and has always had a strong gun culture. I doubt gun control would work in the US, but I’m fairly ambivalent about it in Australia. (Again, though, check back with me after a year of living in a ghetto neighbourhood.)
There are two types of left-wingers: civil rights left-wingers, and “social engineering” left-wingers. In recent years I’ve more closely identified as the first type, and come to value freedom and liberty above most other things. That doesn’t mean I’m a full-on libertarian – for example, I generally value public services over low taxes, because that’s the whole point of having a nation-state – but it does mean that I disagree with “social engineering” left-wingers who propose government policies that would have an ultimately beneficial effect on society. Banning cigarettes, for example, would undoubtedly be healthy for society in the long run, but is an unacceptable infringement of individual rights.
The real political power struggle in human society is not left vs. right, but individual vs. institution.
May 5, 2011 at 7:47 pm
Toby C
I’m glad you liked my photo of Chinatown :)
April 12, 2013 at 7:29 pm
Mark Broadhead
Umm, please remove my image. I did not give you any authority to use it. Mark Broadhead.
April 12, 2013 at 10:31 pm
Mitch
Removed. Apologies.