Monday 21st feb 2011 – Melbs.
I had previously been warned about the weather in this funny city, and it has not failed to comply.
An overcast gloomy morning awoke me with an icy wind that whistled thru my bones making both my nose run, and my hair insanely greasy upon impact.
After checking out, collecting my $30 deposit and filling out the feedback form with a true honest grit, I stumbled out of “Hotel Disappointment” with my bulging suitcase, royal blue holdall, mould colored back pack and navy velvet jacket clutched around my midriff to try and block some of the arctic tundra that assaulted me at every step.
I toddled up the road and clattered, sheepishly, back into the ‘Space’ reception area. The receptionist checked me in straight away, no waiting until 2pm for me….see, I always knew they were lovely there…..and I was surprised to find I had been booked into exactly the same room as a few days ago.
So I headed for the lift, this time chuckling to myself as I left track marks in the brick dust, and up to level 1.
I opened my door to find the room occupied by two Italian girls who had quite made themselves at home by stealing the pillows from all 6 beds, and were having a good ol gossip. I felt I had interrupted something as they sort of jumped as I launched thru the door. They quickly ran around replacing all the bedding and moving their bags so I could squeeze past. This time I headed to the last bed in the row, under the window (I say window, tho it is actually covered completely by scaffolding, there for, eradicating any light what so ever) one of the Italians had taken my bed from last time in the middle row, I was glad as I felt a little more nest like, in the corner.
I bundled my case and bag into the lockable cupboard, and revelled in the cleanliness of the room for a minute, before grabbing my backpack, water bottle, jacket umbrella and gloves (yes gloves!!) and headed to the library.
Now I shall digress slightly to yesterday.
So after my horrific night listening to the soundtrack of ‘Foreign Fornication and the Irish Boys’, I headed straight out of the door at around 8am.
I immediately burst into tears and reached for the phone to call my dear friend Oliver, who always manages to make the right noises in theses situations. He met the brief with gusto, cooing calming words down the line, which eventually dried up my leaky bulbs and even managed to raise the corners of my mouth into a vague, puffy eyed, smile.
We chatted for a while before I had to head to catch the train to Thornbury to check out a potential house.
I slumped back into the train seat and closed my eyes, repeating my daily manta of “it wont be like this forever, it wont be like this forever, just roll with it Sally.”
As the carriages clattered on I viewed each stop thru he window, imagining what it would be like to live there and surveying the ‘grimyness/sallyness’ of each potential suburb.
Eventually we arrived at Thornbury and I departed to find the house. After an hour chatting with Sam, the potential housemate, I had decided that this house wasn’t for me. Altho it was lovely and she was great, it just wasn’t right. I bid her adieu clutching the umbrella she generously donated and clasping a bin liner over my backpack to prevent soggy laptop syndrome.
I had, however, been totally convinced that Thornbury was a great area to live. Quiet, running tracks and park land near by, 30 min bike to the city, farmers market, and close to Northcote and Fitzroy….sold to the lady with the puffy eyes.
So the search continues….
Once again, food becomes immaterial somehow whenever I am stressed and poor, so, aware that I had been living on Ryvitas for the past 3days, I treated myself to a rather sizeable bento box of sushi which I then drooled over whilst staring out of the restaurant window, over to Flinders street train track. I then walked along the river bank as the sun set, chatting, for the second time that day, to my dear friend from Byron about the days events, it was almost like he was there with me……...almost.