The Archive

The Melbourne Identity

Sunday 8th Jan

Well I finally got out of my veal crate and into Melbourne airport (I love Cathay Pacific, but even the best airlines aren't the most comfortable places for a night's sleep in economy class).

I travelled through the (uncharacteristically friendly) immigration and customs people and emerged into the sunlight. Then I scurried back into the shade thinking 'Holy crap it's hot'.

Apparently it's going to be even hotter tomorrow though (38 degrees, they're threatening) so I suppose I should appreciate this cool weather while it's here.

Actually my hosts, Will and Jas Sailors, inform me that it's not hot because of the sun, but because of the direction of the wind. Apparently, if the wind is coming from the North, it's blowing across thousands of miles of hot bushland and heats up to alarming temperatures.

Then, when the wind changes and comes from the ocean, it can immediately (literally within minutes), drop several degrees. It's called the 'cool change' apparently. And I agree, it is cool.

So because I hadn't slept for a couple of days, we had a nice quiet one, going to the beach.

But not just any beach. Oh no. We went to a dog beach. And no, that doesn't mean they operate strict attractiveness controls on the people at other beaches and this is the area the rejects are allowed on.

It's literally a beach where people take their dogs. It was quite an amazing sight to see so many different dogs playing in one spot, but it was also the friendliest beach I've ever been to. You could talk to anyone, using the dog as a pretext. And by anyone, I do mean attractive women.

Note to self: rent a dog next time you go to the beach or park.

Anyway, after the beach it was home (a vast palace, purchased with the proceeds of the sale of their previous home... a shoebox in London divided into flats) for a cold beer, kept cold by what I called a beer caddy, much to my friends' hilarity. It's a stubby, apparently. Yeah, that's so much cooler a name right?

After beer, it was time for a barbeque (beach, beer and barbeque, not a bad Australian experience to begin eh?).

Naturally my friends have an enormous barbeque in their garden, powered by decomissioned jet engines, so the meat was popped on their for cooking. And when I say 'the meat' I don't mean a few sausages and a half-cooked chicken leg, I mean enough meat to stock a small family butchers. I think they may have just tossed a couple of whole carcasses on the barbie and cut it up once it was cooked.

It was quite a change from the noodley veggie meals I was tending to experience in Asia I can tell you.

Fortunately, having survived on airline meals for the previous fifteen hours (would you like the two grains of rice or the single noodle sir?) I was ready to eat a horse. At least I think it was a horse, they may have said lamb though, come to think of it.

After that, it was time to relax with a bit of telly. Now I know the Aussies are famous for their love of sport, but jeez, did you know on one channel there is a programme after the news every day which is a sports round up for an hour. That's like having grandstand on every single night of the week.

Consequently, I'm now more informed about the FA cup, the Superbowl and the Australian Open than I have ever been in my life.

Don't worry though, it won't last, after a decent night's sleep it will be back to the drinking and madness, I promise.

Oh, and finally, after informing me that we have an exciting surfing lesson booked for Saturday, Will turns to me with a big grin and says...

"Oh, did you hear about that woman who was eaten by sharks yesterday?"

Killer sharks on the prowl.

Bloody hell. Not only was the woman taken by three sharks in WAIST HIGH WATER!!! but the whole event took place in Amity Point. It's Jaws people, and it's real.

I've been to the movies, I know how this ends, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the one who survives to blow the killer shark up.

We're going to need a bigger change of swimming shorts.

And if that wasn't enough to scare me (and it is, I assure you) another woman was killed by jellyfish.

Jellyfish. That has to be worse than sharks doesn't it? I mean, at least there's a cool cred value to being eaten by a shark, but where's the menace of a jellyfish? That's like being killed by a teddy bear eel or something.

I shouldn't have said that should I? Now I 'm bound to come a cropper to some harmless-sounding creature (police say Peter was fatally bitten by a Placidfish).

Oh well, you've got to go sometime I guess. On which note, I'll bid you all goodbye until tomorrow.

See ya.

posted by Peter The Great @ 9:43 PM